The Fifth Part
Christopher Rudd’s Adventure in Ireland, and the Manner of His Winning a Wife
I
I hold it ill that a man should be under no constraint to labour for his bread. To have a competency is indeed a comfortable thing; but being so possessed, a man lacks a spur to high emprise, and his faculties are like to wither and decay.
It was my fortune to receive from my father a property sufficient to supply the needs of the body; and the gear I added thereto in divers enterprises and adventures gave me the wherewithal to maintain a decent port before the world, and even at the Court of the Queen’s Majesty, where a man had need be of some substance. But my ambition did not soar a high pitch: I was content to play a modest part on the world’s stage; and when I fell out of humour, as sometimes I did, with the fevered life at Court, I withdrew myself to my little estate in the country, and there lived rustically among the boors and the pigs.
Nevertheless, from having seen many men and cities in my time, I was not long of finding this rustical employment stale upon me. After some few months I would begin to yearn again for the stir and bustle of London, where I might at the least whet my wits that had grown dull and rusty among my simple country fellows. One such time, in the late autumn of the year 1601, my years then numbering thirty, I rode out of Hampshire to London, and took up my lodging in King Street, in Westminster, rejoicing to meet my old friends again, to hear the clash of wits, and feed my mind on the marvellous inventions of Will Shakespeare and Ben Jonson and other ornaments and luminaries of that glorious age.
I found that two great matters were in men’s mouths, whereof the one was the exceeding melancholy whereinto the Queen had sunk since the beheading of my Lord Essex; the other, the rising of the O’Neill (otherwise the Earl of Tyrone) in Ireland, and the descent of some thousands of Spaniards upon the harbour of Kinsale to enfurther that base ungrateful traitor. King Philip having failed in his endeavour to get a grip upon the throat of England, was seeking to annoy her extremities, like as a blister upon the heel or a corn upon the toe. I acknowledge that this news of his impudency made me itch and sweat to flesh my sword again on those enemies of my country; but I dallied somewhat, supposing that my Lord Mountjoy, who was now Lord Deputy in my Lord Essex his room, would speedily make his account with the Irish rebels and their Spanish consorts. Furthermore, Ireland had always shown me a forbidding aspect: I had heard much of its wildness, its thick woods and filthy bogs, its savage and uncouth people, from men that had served the Queen there and got thereby small thanks and less renown; and I had read of these matters also in the book of Master Spenser, whereof a written copy (for it was not put in print until many years after) had come into my hands. For these reasons, therefore, I was no ways in the mind to adventure myself across the Irish Sea.
But that winter, a day or two before Christmas, Sir Oliver St. John arrived in London out of that distressful country, bearing letters from the Lord Deputy and his council wherein they set down the exceeding hard straits in which they rested for want of provisions and men. They related how they had annoyed all parts of the town of Kinsale with the battery of their ordnance, so as the breach was almost assaultable, insomuch that they were not without hope of the enemy yielding, or of their being able to enter the town by force. But a thousand more Spaniards had lately sailed into Castlehaven with great store of munition and artillery; and moreover the Spanish commander had besought the O’Neill to haste to relieve him, who had accordingly come and encamped not far from the town with eight thousand men or more. The Lord Deputy therefore earnestly entreated the Lords of the Council in England to despatch to him without delay four thousand good footmen at the least, with victuals, munition, and money.
These urgent messages occasioned a notable stir among the Lords of the Council, and being laid before the Queen by master secretary Cecil, kindled her to an extremity of rage. Her Majesty had already been at great charges to sustain the Lord Deputy in his dealings with the rebels and their Spanish aids, and being ever loth to untie her purse-strings, she bemoaned exceedingly the ruinous expense which this demand of the Lord Mountjoy would cast upon her. Yet had she a proud spirit that ill brooked the thought of Spain planting a foot in any part whatsoever of her dominions, and she was torn betwixt her parsimony and her care for the common weal.
It chanced that, having gone to Greenwich, where the Queen then was, to bear my part in the revels that were performed at Christmas-time, I came in the eye of Her Majesty one day as she passed through the hall. She stayed her walk (alas! how tottering!), and as I rose up from bending my knee, my heart smote me to see how thin and frail her body was, albeit her eye still flashed and glittered with the fire of her unquenchable spirit.
“So, sirrah,” quoth she, “you are come again out of your pigsty to refresh your snout with more delectable odours.”
Her Majesty was ever hard of tongue, and she bore me a grudge for that I had demitted the humble office I had one time held at her Court.
“Madam,” I said, “I have come like Eurydice, out of Tartarus into the bounteous light of the sun.”
“Ods fish! dost think to win me by thy flattery?” she said; nevertheless methought she was not ill-pleased. But she went on, in a pitiful shrill voice: “What does a proper man here in idlesse, conning soft speeches and inditing silly verses to silly wenches, when my kingdom of Ireland lieth in peril for lack of swords! Go to, rascal; an thou wouldst pleasure me, show thyself a man, and vex me not with lip service and the antics of an ape.”
Then, wellnigh breaking in two with her churchyard cough, she passed on, leaving me a sorry spectacle of confusion.
Methought that now I could do no other thing than take up the challenge which my wrathful Mistress had flung at me. In two breaths she had called me swine and ape, and I grudged that in this her feeble old age she should hold me in low esteem. ’Twas too plain that she was not long for this world, and the desire to please her, together with my old longing for a bout with the Spaniards, prevailed upon me to join myself to those voluntaries that were proffering their service in Ireland. Accordingly I wrote a brief epistle to her Majesty, acquainting her of my design, and received for answer two lines in a quivering hand.
“Chris, thou’rt a good lad. God bless thee with perseverance. Thy loving sovereign, E.R.”
II
In such manner it came to pass that, one day about the middle of January, I found myself sailing into Kinsale harbour, my ship having aboard her many gentlemen that were voluntaries like myself, and some portion of the new levies for which the Lord Deputy had made petition. I stretched my ears for the sound of guns and the blast of war trumpets, but there was a great stillness and peace that smote me with dread of ill news. However, on coming to land, I discovered as much with disappointment as with joy that the Spaniards had yielded themselves by articles of capitulation a few days before, that the O’Neill had been beaten back from the English camp with sore discomfiture, and his men scattered to the four winds. Though I rejoiced in the good success of the Lord Deputy’s arms, I was vexed that I had come too late to deal a blow against the Spaniard, more especially as I foresaw a weary campaign against the native rebels.
It fell out according to my expectation. The Lord Deputy, furnished with new supplies of men and munition, marched through the land, burning, wasting, harrowing without ruth, and hanging such chief rebels as fell into his hands. As it ever is in war, they that suffered most were the poor peasantry of the country: and seeing daily their lamentable estate, finding everywhere men dead of famine, insomuch that in one day’s journey we saw upwards of a thousand men lying unburied, my heart sickened of this work, and I thought to return home. Could I but have looked into the future, I should have seen divers sorry experiences through which it was my destiny to pass; but that which is to come is mercifully hid from us. I foresaw neither what I was to suffer, nor that great blessing which Providence bestowed on me, whereby I have ever regarded my going to Ireland as the most fortunate and happy event of all that ever befell me.
That island is covered in every part with thick forest and vast swamps and bogs, from which arise exhalations exceeding noisome as well to the native people as to our English. From camping oft on the borders of such oozy fens I took an Irish ague, suffering sharp pains in all my limbs, with shivering and vomiting, my teeth chattering, my head oppressed with ringing noises intolerable. So sore was I beset by this most malignant distemper as that all my strength departed from me; I could neither sit my horse nor march afoot, and was afflicted with so desperate a languor and exhaustion that I believed myself nigh unto death. Being in so dreadful a case, I must needs be left behind in a small fort, that had lately been constructed to command a ford on the border of O’Neill’s country; and I am sure that when my companions shook my hand and bade me farewell, none expected ever to see me in life again. But by the mercy of God and the devotion of my servant (there was no physician in that place) I recovered of my fever; and within ten days or so I felt myself ready to make a push towards the army that had gone before.
We had learnt by scourers that our people were then distant some thirty miles across the hills, intending to advance further towards the north. By this it was plain that I must needs hasten if I would come up with them, and there was the more reason for this in that the hills were known to be the haunt and covert of rebels. But I had good hope that, being furnished with a noble horse, and accompanied with my stout and mettlesome servant, and three tall natives of the country, of proven loyalty, I might compass the journey of thirty miles in security. I acknowledge that, having been occupied of late in hunting a broken rabble, I held the enemy in lighter esteem than I ought; and when I look back upon the matter, I feel some scorn of my recklessness, and deem that in what befell me I had no more than my desert.
We set forth at daybreak one morning, one of the Irishmen leading us, and took our way into the hills. I knew somewhat of the trials and hardships of travel in Ireland, but they were as nought by comparison with that which I encountered that day. The country was covered with close and almost impassable woods, intersected with watercourses of depth sufficient to render hazardous their crossing; and we pierced the woods but to find ourselves in swamp or morass. I was by this time aware of the treacherous nature of these quaggy places; but in spite of all our heedfulness, and notwithstanding that three of us were natives well skilled in their country’s discommodities, we had ofttimes much ado to hold our course. Ever and anon we saw ourselves forced to go round about; and although our guide ordered our going with as diligent carefulness as he might, many times we had need to quit our saddles and lend aid to our horses, to draw them from the deceitful mire of the swamps, in such sort that we made but poor going, and by the middle part of the day had accomplished a mere trifle of our journey.
As we were picking our steps thus gingerly over an expanse of spongy ground, overhung by a low beetling cliff, there befell an accident upon which I cannot look back without a mortifying pang, seeing that I was, for all my thirty years, a veteran in war. In all our journey up to that moment we had seen neither man nor any living thing save only the small animals of the woods, and some few wild cattle that smelt us afar off, and vanished from our sight more quickly than eye could follow. On a sudden, before we were aware, there descended upon us from the midst of the bushes on the rock aforesaid a thick shower of spears and stones. A fragment of rock smote upon my headpiece with such violence as wellnigh to stun me; and my horse, made frantic by the sudden onset and the fierce cries of the men in ambush, swerved from the narrow track whereon we were riding, and carried me into the swamp. Dizzy with the shock, I lost my manage of the beast, which, plunging to regain his footing, cast me headlong from my saddle.
When I came to myself, I saw my horse in the hands of two kernes, as they are named in that country—rude and ragged fellows, barefoot, half-naked, and armed with light darts and a long and deadly knife which they call a skene. These two were hauling upon my horse’s bridle, to bring the scrambling beast upon the dry ground. One of my Irishmen lay like a senseless log, with a dart in his body; another and my servant were overthrown, and the kernes were standing over them; the third Irishman, as I saw, had wheeled his horse, and was spurring along the track, I supposed to bring help. I made no doubt but that the rascals, when they had finished their work upon my followers, would deal likewise with me, whom they had left hitherto, seeing me dazed and bewildered by my fall.
But I perceived, after a brief space, that these ragged and unkempt creatures took no step towards me, but stood at gaze, their fierce eyes glittering with I knew not what excitation of mind. I was still in my wonderment, bracing myself to withstand the assault which I supposed they intended against me, when I came to a sudden knowledge of my true situation. I lay upon a thin crust of earth overlying the yielding bog, and already I felt it sinking under my weight. I had not been so short a time in the country but I knew in what extremity of peril I lay, and this knowledge serving as a goad to my numbness, I strove to lift myself from the clammy embrace of the bog that was beginning to suck me down.
And now my mind was smitten with the fear of death, and I take no shame from the terror that beset me. A man may face his foes, and not quail, with a weapon in his hand; but to lie helpless in the clutch of an enemy against which neither weapon nor courage is of any avail is a condition to turn the stoutest heart to water. I cried aloud to those kernes that stood upon the bank, choosing rather to die swiftly by their knives than to choke and smother in that slow torment. They did but mock me with jeers and horrid execrations, uttered in their barbarous tongue,1 and their delight became doubly manifest when with every motion of my ineffectual limbs I did but assist the bog. The more desperately I strove to free myself, the more closely did the pitiless morass cling about me and clog me, like to that loathly creature of which mariners tell, that winds innumerable tentacles about its living prey and digests it to a jelly. Presently I could no more move my limbs, and when I sought to purchase succour from those that stood by, offering great rewards whereby every one of those paupers might have become a petty Croesus among his kind, they sat them down like spectators at a play, to feast their eyes upon my agony, even as in ancient days the Romans saw without compassion the holy martyrs yield up their lives beneath the claws of Nubian lions. And when I saw that neither promises nor entreaties would prevail with them, by reason mayhap that they knew not what I said, I wrapped myself in despair and silence, endeavouring, as a Christian ought, to contemplate the inevitable end with quiet mind.
I had sunk wellnigh to my shoulder-blades, and as it were a mist was hovering before my eyes, when the sound of a horse galloping awoke my slumbering senses, and I looked up, thinking to see my Irishman returning. The kernes had risen to their feet, and turned their backs upon me, and their vociferous clamour fell to a great silence. And gazing beyond them, I saw, not my Irishman, but a young maiden, upon a hobby of the country, riding with loose rein at the very brink of the cliff above. Distraught and speechless, I gazed in amaze and wonderment, as this radiant creature brought her hobby to a stand on the height over against me. She cast one glance at me, and I heard a voice like a silver bell rung sharply, and at her words the kernes were set in motion as they were puppets moved by invisible strings, and with one consent, yet sullenly, they hasted to obey her behests. Having loosed the bridles of my servant’s horse and of the maiden’s hobby, they knit them together, and one of the men cast this rope of leather upon the bog towards me. Mustering my remnant strength I caught it, and passed it over my head and beneath my armpits, whereupon some few of the kernes laid hold of it at the end, and with mighty hauling heaved me from my slimy bed. So strong was the embrace wherein I had been clasped that I came to the bank in my stocking feet, having left my boots in that ravenous maw.
In this sorry plight my aspect was as filthy and foul as Odysseus when he showed himself to the maiden Nausicaa. My Nausicaa smiled upon viewing me, and when I could find no words wherewith to utter the gratitude of my swelling spirit, her lips parted, and that silvery voice uttered words in my own tongue, which fell the more sweetly upon my ear by reason of their quaintness of accent.
“I am troubled, sir,” said she, “at this your incommodity, but no herald announced your coming, whereby we might furnish guides. Haply your messenger went astray?”
I perceived that she mocked me, but being too far spent to answer her in kind, I was content to relate briefly what had befallen me. She smiled again, and said lightly—
“My kernes did what seemed good to them, at no man’s bidding. I pray you accept our hospitality, so that we can repair in some measure the coldness of your welcome in this our country.”
Then she turned upon the kernes that stood glooming by, and spake a few words to them in their own tongue; and after she had assured me that they would do me no harm, and bid me accompany them, she sped back towards the quarter whence she had come, riding without bridle, a marvel to behold.
III
I would fain have had further speech with the damsel, to know more fully what was intended towards me; ’twas plain that she was of much consideration with these ragged ruffians, with whom her lightest word was law; and in truth I wondered not at their tame submission, for though her age was, as I guessed, not above twenty years, she had a most commanding and imperial mien, and a manner of speech that enforced obedience.
Having set me upon my horse, and likewise upon his my Irishman that was wounded, my servant and the other Irishman being compelled to remain afoot, the kernes led us along the path over the hillside, one of them bearing my pistol, another my sword, which he had taken from my belt. Thus as we marched, my mind was busy with these late accidents, and with my fair saviour, whose hair methought was of the hue of red gold, and her eyes of an incomparable blue. From such meditation I shook myself, to take note, as beseemed one in my case, of the nature of the country we were traversing. I perceived that the track, very rugged and narrow, wound steeply up the hillside, giving but few glimpses of any prospect. But on a sudden, coming to the summit, I beheld a very fair and delightful landscape, that put me in mind of the country in Devon. Betwixt the hill whereon I stood, and another like to it, above a mile distant, there lay a pleasant valley of emerald green, and in the midst thereof a lake or mere, and a silvery stream feeding it from the high ground above. But that which held the eye more especially in this delectable prospect was a castle in the midst of the lake—a fortress of stone built in the Norman style, of no great magnitude, but having a keep, a courtyard, and divers appurtenances. ’Twas a goodly spectacle, this hoary shape engoldened by the sunlight, girt about with blue water, and all encompassed by the living green.
At the end of the lake nearest to us, I perceived the semblance of a jetty framed of wood, whereto a vessel like unto our Thames wherries was moored; and both on the vessel and the jetty I saw sundry folk, and likewise a few assembled in the courtyard. In the castle wall was a water-gate, which now lay open, bounded above by the teeth of a portcullis.
We stayed not our march, but descended the hillside towards the lake. And as I drew nearer, I perceived that the castle was in ill repair, the stonework weatherworn and crumbling, and the iron of the portcullis exceeding rusty, so that I misdoubted whether it were possible to be raised. Methought the place was of very ancient date, perchance of the time when, for our woe, Strongbow set his foot upon this country—destined to be a continual nursery of trouble to her English governors.
When we were come to the waterside, a man met me from the jetty, and speaking in the English of a five-years’ bairn, invited me to enter the wherry. This I did, with my own men and some of those that were with us, and we were ferried over the lake, and into the castle by the water-gate, through a covered way that led from the lake into the courtyard.
Alighting from the wherry and ascending some few ragged stone steps, I found myself in the courtyard amid a strange medley of beasts and men. There were cattle, swine, and poultry enclosed in tumbledown pens, and set against the walls were rude cabins of wood overlaid with turfs, which I supposed to be the dwellings of serving men and retainers. Of mankind there were in the courtyard about a score, men, women and children, the men being for the greater part well stricken in years. All these folk gazed upon me as you see peasants gaze at quaint outlandish monsters in a country fair. My men were taken, by command already given, into one of the cabins aforesaid; but I myself was ushered through a postern into the keep, and up a winding stair to a chamber barely furnished with a stool and a truckle bed, whereon was laid in a heap a suit of woollen garments. These I donned with much contentment in exchange for my own sodden and miry raiment, a man standing at the door with his back to me all the time, a courtesy I little expected in such savages. When I was dry clad he conducted me down the stairs into a lofty and spacious hall, where food of the English sort was spread upon a table. With this I was mightily refreshed and strengthened, for hard fortune had not bereft me of appetite, though I acknowledge my satisfaction was tempered by the recollection that I who had fought in campaigns with the greatest captains of the age had fallen an inglorious victim to a handful of wild Irish kernes.
Some while after the remains of my repast had been removed, and I was drumming my heels alone and in idleness, the door opened, and the maiden entered, and with her an old and withered dame of forbidding aspect and mien. A smile flickered upon the maiden’s countenance as she beheld me, clad in coarse and ill-fitting garments, making my bow as courtly as to a queen.
“Our fare is poorer than I could wish,” she said, “but ’tis our necessity at fault, not our good will.”
“I thank you, mistress,” said I, “and would fain beg that the same fare may be provided for my men, one of whom, I fear, was somewhat incommoded in the late misadventure.”
“Their wants are supplied, sir,” quoth she coldly; “and as for you, I desire that you will rest in such comfort as our poor means and the straitness of our dwelling may afford.”
“In troth, mistress,” said I, “I have known worse quarters and leaner fare; but desiring that you be at no more pains or charges in my behoof, I purpose with your leave to get me hence with all commendable speed as soon as my garments are dried, not forgetting that I owe my life to you.”
At this she smiled again.
“Of what value your life may be to you or to your countrymen I know not,” she said, “but at this present time it is of some worth to me.”
“I am honoured, madam,” said I in some puzzlement.
And then, seeing my wonder writ on my face, she laughed outright.
“I fear me, good sir, we are scarcely of one mind,” she said. “Loth as I am to enforce you with any restraint, yet needs must I tell you that for a time you shall rest content to remain my guest.”
“Shall, madam?” said I, with a lift of the eyes.
“Shall, sir,” she repeated. “You shall be a hostage, a pledge for the fair treatment of my father.”
“What have I to do with your father?” I asked, in my bewilderment.
“This: that your general has sworn to hang my father so soon as he lays hands on him, wherefore I have despatched a letter to your general to let him know that I have you in ward, and will surely execute upon you any violence or indignity that my father may suffer.”
This she said with a firm voice, smiting the table with her little hand; and I knew in my heart that what she said, that the fair termagant would surely do.
“And may I presume to ask, madam,” said I, “the name of the gentleman upon whose safety my own salvation hangs?”
“His name, sir, is Kedagh O’Hagan: and yours?”
“A name of much less mark: Christopher Rudd, at your service.”
“A knight?”
“Nay, madam, a plain gentleman.”
She smiled a little at this, and continued—
“Well, Master Christopher Rudd, give me the word of a plain gentleman that you will use no endeavour to flee away, and I give you the freedom of this castle, such as it is.”
“I thank you, madam, for your good will,” said I, “but I have a larger notion of freedom. With your leave I will put no fetters on my discretion.”
“Nor I on your limbs, and yet you shall be confined,” said she; and after the exchange of sundry civil nothings between us, she departed with the ancient dame, who had stood by the while with arms folded upon her hips, and lips pressed together grimly.
The door was closed upon them, and by the voices that came to me through the timber I knew that two men had been set to guard me.
I had much to speculate upon in my solitude. This Kedagh O’Hagan, the damsel’s father, was a notorious rebel, and a doughty lieutenant of the O’Neill. I knew that my general, Sir Arthur Chichester, had vowed to hang him, as she had said; but seeing that the fellow was slippery as an eel and had escaped us not a few times, I saw myself doomed in all likelihood to a long imprisonment unless peradventure I could make my escape. Moreover, if by any foul chance he should lose his life, the gallows was my certain destination, an ignominious end which I could not contemplate with any comfort or serenity.
From meditating on this I came to think of my fair hostess. I had seen full many a glorious beauty at the Queen’s Court, and in France when I served King Henry, but none that so bewitched and teased me as this Irish maiden, with her red-gold hair, and her eyes of unsoundable blue, and her coral lips that curled the one above the other when she smiled. And the dulcet fluting of her voice, breathing out pure English with a faint smack of something outlandish and yet most pleasing, remained singing in my ears. Moreover her bold and mettlesome spirit, yet not a whit unmaidenly, liked me well, and I considered within myself that I could be well content to enjoy her society during the few days which I needed for the perfect recovery of my strength. Her converse, methought, would sweeten my confinement until I should make my escape, whereto I was resolved.
I remained in that chamber while daylight endured, now ruminating, now reading in the one or two books that my fair jailer had set there for me—some poems of Master Spenser, Tottel’s Miscellany, and sundry other volumes which I marvelled to find in that barbarous land; and it chancing that my supper was brought to me by that man that had some smattering of English, I fell on talk with him, to learn somewhat, if I might, of his fair mistress. Her name was Sheila, he told me—quaint and pretty to my ears; she was her father’s sole child, and the apple of his eye. She had dwelt some time in England, her father having been carried there a hostage, but loved Ireland, said the man. He told me also that she was vehemently besought in marriage by a young chieftain of that neighbourhood, one Rory Mac Shane, betwixt whose family and her own there was an ancient feud. ’Twas Mac Shane’s purpose to end the feud by this alliance, but he was looked upon with loathing both by the maiden and by her father, not only because of the inveterate enmity between the two houses, but also because they misliked the man himself, a robustious unlettered fellow, a foul liver, and one that constantly besotted himself with usquebagh, a vile drink of the country. Mac Shane had sworn, so it was told me, to wed the maiden, will she, nill she, for which reason had her father conveyed her to this castle in the lake, as being more easily defended than his greater seat a few miles distant. I had ofttimes heard of the raids made one upon another by these petty Irish chiefs, and my informant did not question but that some time, when occasion served, Mac Shane would seek to attain his end by violence. In this case I could not but marvel that O’Hagan had left his daughter, and withdrawn the main part of his people to assist O’Neill; but reflected that he must know his own business best, and so dismissed the matter.
IV
At fall of night I was led upstairs again to the small chamber wherein I had made my change of clothes. The door was locked and barred upon me, and by divers faint noises that I heard I knew that sentinels were set without to guard me. Being wondrous fatigued I slept very soundly, and was awakened only when a sunbeam falling athwart my bed struck upon my eyes. I rose up, and all being silent, made a more thorough survey of my room than I had done afore. ’Twas by measurement of my paces not above ten feet square, and had a single window, not closed with glass, looking upon the lake forty or fifty feet beneath. The wall was thick, and the window was splayed inwards, being upwards of an ell in breadth on the inner side, but no more than three spans on the outer; and here ’twas divided in twain from top to bottom by a bar of iron, set in the stonework.
This bar I perceived to be deeply rusted, like the iron of the portcullis above the water-gate, and methought I could with a vehement wrench or two force it from its sockets, and so leave a clear space and a way of escape. But when I leant upon the sill and contemplated the water beneath, of whose depth I was ignorant, I was somewhat mistrustful of my success if I should attempt so great a dive. My further meditation of this matter was hindered by the noise of unlocking and unbarring, and I was seated upon my bed when a man entered, to bid me descend to break my fast in the chamber below.
The second day of my imprisonment was like unto the first, save that my fair chatelaine did not deign to visit me, but sent me greetings by her servitor. At this, without any reason, I was somewhat vexed, having counted on seeing her comeliness and hearing the music of her speech. I took no pleasure in reading of Colin Clout or Astrophel, laying down my book, and striding about the room in dudgeon. But as I went I pondered that matter of escaping by the window, which, though narrow, would let me through, my body having been marvellously thinned by my late sickness. My splash into the water, if ’twere heard by one of my guards, would bring a boat in chase of me ere I could win to the bank, swam I never so strongly. And if by good luck I were neither heard nor seen, yet I misdoubted of my safety, for I was in poor health, unarmed, ignorant of the country, and in no case to adventure myself in a guideless journey over those rugged hills, the haunt and lair of maybe thousands of the wild Irish, ay, and with a hue and cry ringing behind me. What with these my doubts and fears, and the neglect (as I called it) of the mistress of the castle, the day lingered out very discomfortably, and I went to my bed at odds with myself and all men.
On the next day, after breakfast, my servant Stubbs was admitted to me. He told me that he and my Irishmen were treated very handsomely, the lady of the castle herself visiting them twice a day and inquiring of their welfare.
“She’s a beauty, sir,” said the man heartily.
“And my neck is in a noose,” said I, feeling a twinge of jealousy in that Stubbs had been favoured above me, and I told him of my being a hostage for the life of the maid’s father.
“Why, then, the general will have a care that he comes to no harm,” said Stubbs, “seeing that an English gentleman is of more value than many mere Irish.”
“In his own conceit,” said that sweet and tunable voice, and the lady came into the room, attended as before by her ancient dame of the sour visage. “Good morrow, Master Rudd.”
“Good morrow, Mistress Sheila,” said I, shooting a look at her as I made my bow.
A flush mantled her cheek at this hearing of her name.
“I brook no plots nor complots between you two,” said she. “I bade your servant attend you as a grace, Master Rudd.”
“For which you have my hearty thanks, madam,” said I. “The conversation of your servitor is a child’s babble, and the reading of your books breeds only discontent.”
“You have but to give your word, and you are free to range this castle, sir,” said she.
“’Twould be but to beat my wings against the bars of my cage,” said I.
“A bird, quotha!” said she, laughing. “His feathers are ruffled, and he stints his song.”
“He has no mate, madam,” said I; and after more bandying of words, she departed again.
So passed some few days, the while I nursed my strength for the attempt whereon I was resolved. The lady paid me fitful visits, and I looked for them ever more wistfully. Once, when I had not seen her for thirty hours or more, I dared to read aloud at her entrance, from the book of Master Spenser’s sonnets upon my knees, the concluding verses—
“Dark is my day, whiles her fair light I miss,
And dead my life that wants such lively bliss;”
whereupon she took the book from my hand, averring that such woebegone stuff would but addle my wits. She spoke as one chiding a froward child, and I acknowledged to myself that she had dealt tenderly with my presumption. One day when she came to me I perceived that all was not well with her. Her bright hue was faded, her eye was sad, and whereas she was wont to be merry with quips, answering me right saucily, her spirit was now leaden. She heard me in silence, and heaved many a sigh. I guessed that she had received ill news, and by little and little I got from her what it was that so much troubled her. She told me that the O’Neill had been signally worsted, and was withdrawing himself deeper into his mountain fastnesses. She feared for her father’s safety, and then, with a flash of her old spirit, she struck my table and declared right vehemently—
“If my father is taken, and suffers what is threatened against him, I vow, Master Rudd, that you shall dangle from the castle wall, a feast for kites and crows.”
And then she broke into a passion of weeping and fled out of the room.
This news came as a rude shock to the contentment into which I had let myself be lulled; and fearing lest in the heat of battle Kedagh O’Hagan should come to harm even against the commandment of my general, I saw that it behoved me, if I would put my neck beyond jeopardy, to slip the noose at once. I had no manner of doubt that the girl would do even as she had said, out of duty, though I believed that she held me in no disfavour in my proper person.
I determined therefore to put my plan in practice in the early part of that night, so that, if I should come safe to shore, I might have the hours of darkness to cover my flight. But my design was frustrated by much coming and going betwixt the shore and the castle. It was plain that some enterprise was afoot, and from my little window looking forth, I watched the daylight sink into night without any diminution of the busy movements below.
But when the small hours crept on, and all around was wrapt in an immense stillness, and a snoring in two several tones proclaimed that my guardians were asleep, I clambered up into the embrasure, and, employing one of the legs of my truckle bed as a lever, with as little noise as might be, I forced the rusty iron bar from its sockets; which done, I loosed part of my outer garments, and having made them into a bundle with my boots, I tore my coverlid into strips and knit them into a cord, and tied my bundle to one end of it. The other end I knotted about the bar, which I laid transversely across the window, and then let down the bundle into the depths towards the lake.
Upon hauling it up I discovered that it was dry, whereby I learnt that my rope was not of length sufficient to touch the water, though having used all my convenient bedding I knew that it could not fall far short. I deemed neither the rope nor the bar stout enough to bear my own weight, and saw that I must needs dive into the lake, and take my chance. Accordingly I turned myself sideways, and so contrived to squeeze my shoulders through the narrow opening, not without fear lest I should lose my balance, and topple down in a heap without the opportunity of poising for the clean dive that would best ensure my safety and cause the least noise.
Having let down my bundle again, I was now able to see (for the summer sky had some luminancy) that it came within a little of the water. As I crouched there upon the sill I was in no little tremor and dread, for if there should be a watchman upon the keep, as was most like, he would scarce but hear the splash I should make. I stretched my ears for sounds within and without, below and above, and when all was yet silent I gathered myself together, and without poising, for which there was no room, I lifted myself on a sudden, and extending my arms above me made the best shift I could for the dive.
’Twas as though I hurled myself upon stone, so mighty was the shock of my entering the water. Methought in my confusion of wits ’twas an age before I came to the surface, gasping for my breath. In a daze I trod water until my senses were some little restored; then, hearkening with all my ears, but hearing nought, I swam close beneath the wall, until I found my bundle dangling, and thereupon tugging upon the cord I snapped it, and set the bundle upon my head. There I held it with one hand, while with the other I struck out towards the shore; at which arriving I scrambled up the bank, and sped away as fleetly as I might to the shelter of a copse hard by. Here, all winded as I was with swift running after my dive and swim, I made short work of stripping off my wet clothes, and donning the dry raiment and the boots which I had brought in my bundle; which done, I wrung out my sodden things, tied them about my back with the cord, and making a cast as well as I could for the English fort I had lately left, I turned my back upon the lake and the castle, and issued forth from among the trees to plod over those unknown barren hills.
V
The sky, as I told you, rendered a pale light, it being high summer; and I was rather dismayed than pleasured when I saw the moon’s pale sphere stretching a bow beyond the further hills. The more light, the less chance of shunning an enemy. Truly, I could have been thankful for a lanthorn upon my path, for I had need to go slowly and heedfully, lest I should find myself embogged, of which my one experience was more than enough. I laboured over the ground, making small headway, for where ’twas not marshy ’twas rugged and bestrewn with loose stones, and where ’twas none of these, I was annoyed with pestering thorns or entangled underwood. And the short summer darkness was already dissolving with the dawn.
I looked back over the way I had come, and saw the lake not above two miles off, below me, and the castle rose-tinted in the sun’s ray. Even now, I thought, the nimble kernes, whose fleetness of foot exceeds that of a horse, might run me down, if my escape had become known. I considered whether to seek a hiding-place, in some bosky covert or some brier-clad hole in the hills; but bethought myself that I must then lie quiet all day without food, and maybe lose myself when I came forth in the night. It seemed to me best to keep right on, watching my steps, and shrouding myself with such brushwood and overhanging cliffs as I might encounter on my way.
Presently after I had thus resolved, I came unawares out of the trackless ground upon a beaten path, which methought led in the direction of my course. To follow this path stood me in some danger of meeting my foes; yet I should make speedier progress upon it, and have my eyes for scanning the country instead of for taking heed of bogs or pitfalls. Therefore I cast away all scruples of timidity and struck with assured gait into the path.
’Twas not long before I repented of my temerity. On a sudden I heard a patter of feet before me, and ere I could slip aside for hiding there came into my sight, round a bend in the path, a man of lofty stature, running as for a prize. At one and the same instant we halted upon our feet, the runner and I, being divided by no more than thirty paces. I had but just perceived by his garb that the man was an Irishman when he leapt from the path down a shelving grassy bank at his right hand, and bounded like a hunted stag towards a clump of woodland no great distance away.
Bethinking me in a flash that every Irishman hereabout was an enemy, and that this man, were he to escape, might fetch a horde of his wild fellows upon my track, I sprang after him, in my soul doubting whether with my utmost endeavour I could overtake him. For some little time the man outsped me, but coming to the skirts of the woodland he suddenly stumbled, sought desperately to recover his footing, and then sank upon the ground. Gathering my speed, in four leaps I was upon him, and closed with him, expecting that he would strive with me for the mastery; but he lay limp and lumpish in my hands, his eyes beseeching mercy. So stout of frame he was, I was no little amazed at my easy victory, until I saw by his laboured breathing, the quivering of his nostrils, and the pallor of his cheeks, that he was utterly spent. This put me in a quandary. I had a mind to leave him and go my way; but in a moment I saw that I might perchance make some profit of him. Taking a portion of the cord about my bundle, I bound his hands behind him, and when the heaving of his naked breast was somewhat stilled, I bade him arise and lead me to the English camp, fearing the while lest he should be of the wild barbarians that knew no tongue but their own. But at my words he looked me in the face, and told me that the English were many miles away, marching northward.
I asked him how he knew, whereupon he said that he had himself been among them. Questioning him further, by degrees I learnt that he was one of the band that had followed Kedagh O’Hagan into the field. Two days before a battle had been fought betwixt the rebels and the army of my general, and this man had been taken, but having escaped by night, he had fled for refuge to the cabin of his sister, whose husband was a henchman to Rory Mac Shane. The husband being absent, the man had learnt in talk with his sister that Mac Shane had gathered his men, with the intent to fall upon the lake-castle of O’Hagan while he was footing it with the rebels, and to carry away the maiden whom he had sworn to wed. At this news the man, in loyal service to his chief, brake from his sister, and ran all night over the hills to warn his mistress of the peril threatening her. Being not yet recovered of the fatigue of marching and the stress of battle; having, moreover, followed an indirect and winding course to avoid the raiders of Rory Mac Shane, who were already on foot; the man had overtaxed his strength in running, and so fallen helpless into my hands.
In my course through the world I had gained some skill in reading men, and was not easily deceived when those I had to do with were artless and simple, not versed in the tricks of courtiers, nor trained to mask their thoughts like the ambassadors of kings. The man’s bearing was honest; his story fitted both with his present sorry case and with what I had heard before; briefly, I did not doubt him. And when I inquired of him where these raiders might be, and he told me that they were not above three miles from the place where we then stood, and full in my path, I could not but look upon this encounter as a fortunate accident for me.
And now I had perforce to choose what I must do. I could not proceed in safety until Mac Shane and his raiders were no longer between me and my goal, and I considered whether I should hide myself a while, and let the man continue his journey, and so warn his mistress of what was to come; or, making assurance doubly sure, I might hold him in hiding with me until the danger of interception was past, then leave him well tied up, and go my way: in which case the lady must remain unwarned. And as I thought thereon, and my mind’s eye dwelt upon that piece of loveliness, forlorn in her ruinous castle, with few to help her, and remembered what I had been told of this Rory Mac Shane, a violent and besotted savage, on a sudden I felt the blood rush to my temples, and without more ado, scarce knowing what secret motive impelled me, I caught up my prisoner, unloosed his bonds, bade him pluck up heart, and, supporting his half-fainting form with my arm, set forth with hasty step towards the quarter whence I had come.
For all that I was cumbered with the poor wretch, I made better speed back than forth, because he knew the way, and avoided rough and quaggy places. The morning was yet young, wanting something of four o’ the clock when we came to the lake-side, and I felt a passion of wrath spring within me at what had formerly served me well—namely, the culpable neglect of watch and ward upon the castle. There was no lookout man posted upon the keep; not a soul stirring on battlements or in courtyard: a heinous lack of precaution which could not but set on edge the nerves of any man with the least experience of war. God-a-mercy, thought I, is this the Irish manner of guarding fair ladies? No eye had spied us as we descended the hillside; and when, at the water’s brink, we set up a loud halloo, we might have been wolves howling in a wilderness for all the stir we made.
Ofttimes as we came the Irishman had glanced back timorously along the path, and now he clutched me by the arm and stretching forth his hand, pointed to a regiment of dusky shapes moving against the sky behind us; which seeing, and being in no manner of doubt what they were, I made a trumpet of my hands and let forth a shout like to split my lungs. And then, above the broken parapet of the tower, a woman’s form appeared, and stood there a brief space at gaze, then vanished from my sight. Still bellowing my loudest, I saw men moving in the courtyard, and presently from the water-gate the wherry shot forth under the strokes of two oarsmen. The Irishman by my side called to them in their own tongue, and they made great haste, and we waded into the lake to meet them, and leapt into the vessel, which swung about and conveyed us with all speed over the water and through the gate. I perceived the countenances of these oarsmen how they were blank with stark amazement, their eyes resting upon me as upon one risen from the dead; and the women in the courtyard crossed themselves and fell back from me as I passed among them, and ’twas told me afterward they held me for a wizard.
And there at the postern leading into the keep stood my lady, very straight and still, a high colour in her cheeks and a fire in her eyes. I bent myself, saluting her, and said—
“I fear me, madam, I seem thankless in quitting the castle without paying my respects to its fair mistress, but you were, I trust, lapped in quiet slumber when your caged night-bird took wing. Yet am I soon come back to roost, for it chanced that in my flight I crossed a servitor of yours, and he——”
“And he snared the simple fowl, and brought him to be plucked,” she said, with a curling lip.
“Simple fool, in good sooth, I may be, madam,” said I, “yet ’twas not he carried me back, but rather that which he carried.”
She looked in puzzlement from me to the Irishman, and from him again to me, and I would very willingly have engaged further in tossing the ball but for the grave news I bore. Breaking off suddenly, I told her with seriousness than within the fourth part of an hour Rory Mac Shane with his posse of rascals would be at her gates.
“It behoves your folk to show,” I said, “that they can fight better than they watch; and with your leave, while your man here tells his tale in gross, I will make bold to set things in order for defence.”
I did not wait for an answer, but turned abruptly from her (noting how her wrath was kindled against me), and sought my servant and the Irishmen my comrades in captivity. Them I informed of what was toward, and gave commands for the Irishmen to convey to their fellow countrymen. My assured mien and peremptory speech carried it with them, and with Mistress Sheila too, who was so much taken aback by my masterfulness, as well as engrossed with the tale poured out in the Irish tongue by her man, as that she was in a manner fixed and immovable like a monument.
But this posture endured but a little. Being informed of all that had happened, she came flying to me in the midst of the courtyard, and a wondrous light shone upon her face, and she thrust out her hands towards me, and cried—
“Oh, sir, I crave your pardon, and I thank you.”
I took her hand and kissed it in the manner of a courtier, yet mayhap with something less formality.
“But haste, sir!” she cried again. “The wherry is yours. Get you, you and your men, to the other side, and escape while yet there is time.”
“Madam,” I said, “I and my men have no other wish than to serve you.”
“I beseech you, endanger not your life in a quarrel that is not your own,” she said.
“I trow I make it my own,” said I, with a forthright quick look. An instant our glances clung; then she veiled her enkindling eyes, and turning aside hastily, clasped hands with the sour-faced dame who had now come forth, a fearsome dragon, from the postern door.
VI
My heart sang as I went about the business of my assumed captaincy. She left all to me, and ever and anon as I was in the midst of my activities I saw her eyes fasten upon me and smile encouragement and sweet trust. I was in my element now that war’s alarm was sounding. Never in my life before had I addressed myself to fight so gaily as now. I had fought for treasure, for dear friends, for a noble king, for honour and truth and liberty; but never, as it chanced, had it fallen to my lot to battle for a lady. And when I thought of Rory Mac Shane—faugh! what a mouthful of ugliness his name!—I laughed within myself, and Io triumphe rang a joyous peal in my head.
But I must come back to my tale.
Leaving my good fellow Stubbs, who had catched fire from me, to muster all the serviceable varlets in the courtyard, I made haste to mount to the top of the keep, to judge how long a time for preparation I had before the enemy should come. They were, as I guessed, a good mile away. I descended, and as swiftly as might be I ranged through all the castle, now wholly open to me, and observed in my hasty survey those points where it was most vulnerable. Meantime I had commanded that all weapons of every sort should be carried into the courtyard, and coming there again, I parted them among the garrison, a pitiful poor rabble as was ever mustered to defend a fortress. There were not so many as I had seen when first I came to the place, and I began to suspect that some faint-hearted rascals had hidden themselves away in tenderness for their skins. But when I turned to the lady to ask of this matter—she stood queenly on the step of the postern—she told me that the night before she had dispatched sundry stout fellows with munition and victuals to her father, who had sent word that he was in dire straits, cooped up in a wild place by the English forces. By this I knew the meaning of that coming and going which had delayed my flight, yet for which I was now beyond measure thankful, seeing that otherwise I should have got clean away (so I flattered myself), and my lady had been lost.
Yet this diminishment of my forces was a grievous matter, as I saw very well when, going again to the battlemented roof, I descried the enemy pouring down the hillside, a rout of nigh two hundred men, but not marching in the ordered ranks of disciplined soldiers. They were all afoot, a rabble of half-naked kernes, equipped some with darts, some with bows and arrows, a mere few with matchlocks. I saw with great thankfulness that they had no artillery, so that we need fear no battering and breaching of the walls. And then, wondering how they purposed to come across the lake, I perceived that many of them bore massy bundles, the nature whereof I could not determine. And as I stood peering over the parapet, I was aware that Mistress Sheila was at my side, and turned to her, asking without preface what those bundles might be. She told me that they were boats, made of the hides of beasts strained over a framework of osiers.
“An armada, sooth!” I cried, feigning a cheerfulness I did not own. “King Rory apes King Philip, and comes a-wooing with a fleet.”
She flashed me a look, and her lips quivered.
“You are not afraid, mistress?” said I.
“Was your Queen afraid with her captains about her?” she said; and in a murmur, soft as a mavis’ evening note, she added: “I trust my captain too.”
And she laid in my hand my own sword, which had been taken from me when I was lugged from the slough.
“List to me, mistress,” I said, stilling my leaping pulse, for our peril was near. “Do you bring all the women and children to this place, and when I have descended, bolt the door upon me. You and they will be safe here, while we beat off the enemy below.”
She nodded her head, and fled away, coming back a while after with the beldam and the rest of the women, young and old, all huddling like silly sheep, moaning and crying, spite of the rebukes of their high-hearted mistress. I bade her good-bye and sped down the stairs, hearing the grating of the bolt behind me, and came to the courtyard, where the men were assembled expecting me.
I had already resolved upon my plan of defence. Our chiefest danger, as I saw, was that the enemy, when they had crossed the lake, would by some means mount the ruinous wall of the courtyard, that rose but three men’s height above the water, and so swarm upon us. This wall was upwards of two hundred ells in circuit, not of a perfect roundure, but irregular, according to the shape of the rock whereon the castle was built. With my few men it would go hard with us to hold so long a line, and I foresaw that if the enemy pushed us with any vigour, we must needs give way before them. But I had determined upon resisting them at the wall so long time as we might, and when we could no longer withstand them, we should withdraw ourselves into the keep, where even with a handful I deemed it possible to fend them off and endure if need be a long siege.
When I had posted my men at divers points along the wall, suddenly I bethought me of the water-gate, which gave entrance directly into the courtyard. I remembered that the portcullis was raised, and had the look of being immovable; but ’twas madness to leave the gate utterly without defence, and so I called Stubbs to my side, and bade him find tools wherewith we might endeavour to remedy this discommodity. While he was gone about this quest, I looked around, and beheld with no little indignation the Lady Sheila standing at the postern of the keep, watching me.
“Get you up to the roof, mistress,” I said peremptorily, hasting to her. “This is no place for you.”
“How now!” she cried. “Am I a maid-servant to be commanded hither and thither? Mistress of this castle I stay, sir, and go where I will.”
“Must I e’en carry you?” I said, very foolishly, not knowing thoroughly the quality of the maid.
“Sirrah, you were best not try,” she said, and when I, still in my folly (and yet ’twas for her good), stretched out my hands to do as I had said, she fetched me a buffet that sent me reeling.
“Virago!” I cried, my ear stinging with the blow.
“Upstart!” she made answer, and then with a swift change she said meekly: “I pray you, good Master Rudd, let me stay.”
Before I could answer, Stubbs came to me with the tools, and since time was precious I went at once with him to the gate, and by dint of hewing and hacking we contrived to drop the portcullis, and so shut up the entrance that might otherwise have been our undoing. Which was no sooner done than a loud cry summoned me to the wall, and mounting thereon I saw the rabblement gathered on the further shore, and in the forefront a man of vast stature with a head like a bull-calf, and fat red cheeks bulging out from a shaggy mane the colour of hay. He wore no cap, but his form was clad in a loose tunic of saffron hue, leather trews to his ankles, and great shoes of undressed hide. Flourishing a two-handed sword, he bellowed something in the execrable tongue of these savages, and my Irishman at my side said that he called upon the Lady Sheila to yield up the castle and make her humble submission.
“Methinks his name should be Roarer Mac Shane,” said I, and I went to inform the damsel of his demand. “What is your answer, mistress, to this windy swain? He is young and over-grown, which may excuse the tempestuous manner of his wooing.”
“Tell him I deny him and defy him,” she cried ringingly. “I am daughter of Kedagh O’Hagan!”
When this was repeated by my Irishman, Mac Shane vented another blast of foul breath, and at his command a company of his ruffians hied them to the woods towards the north side of the lake, and fell to cutting timber, which they proceeded to fashion into rafts, binding the logs together with ropes they had brought with them: manifestly Mac Shane had not expected the lady to spring into his arms. While this was doing, others of the ragged crew built light ladders, setting at the top iron hooks wherewith to catch the wall. These preparations were little to my liking, and I saw that there was rough work before us.
And now becoming aware of my emptiness, for I had neither eaten nor drunk since my supper overnight, I considered there was time to make a meal, without overhaste, for ’twould certainly be an hour or two ere the rafts and ladders were finished. My fair lady served me with her own hands, and paid me little heed when I said she must be sparing of victuals, but heaped upon my platter plenty of broiled flesh garnished with shamrock, a herb of the country, with fair white bread, butter (somewhat rancid), and a great horn of mead.
“Great warriors must needs be great eaters,” she said, sitting composedly over against the window near to the ancient gossip her companion, whom she had fetched from above, and who had never yet said a word in my hearing.
“But not great eaters great warriors,” said I, in her vein.
“No, or swine would be the most warlike of beasts,” she said. Then, resting her chin upon her hand: “Tell me, Master Captain Rudd, the manner of your escape. My women say you are a necromancer.”
“Why, mistress, then by my black art conjured myself into the shape of a simple fowl, and spread my wings, and hey!”
“Tush! Tell me true,” she said. “Such fables are for children.”
“Well then,” said I, “since I may not be a bird, what say you to a fish?”
“I cannot abide ’em, save broiled, and with sauce,” she said.
“Then may the broiling I shall suffer this day, and the sauce of good hard knocks, bring me to the top of your good favour,” said I. “But, indeed, I swim like a fish, and dive like a duck——”
“Or a goose?” she caught me up.
“But with no quackery,” said I, “I heaved myself up to my window-sill—
“Then you should have been trussed,” she said.
“Nay, madam, the trust is yours,” said I; “and from the sill I leapt into your lake, and so got myself, somewhat damp and muddied, to the further shore.”
“And without a wound?” she said, catching at her breath.
“Save in my heart,” I said in a low voice.
“What! hath any Englishman a heart?” she said; and then as I glanced at the frowning dame beside her, she cried right merrily—
“Oh, she knows no English!” and then with some confusion and haste she asked me of the Queen and the Court, and led me insensibly to relate to her some particulars of my past life, whereby the time sped away so fast, and I had so far forgotten the posture of our affairs, that I suffered a shock when Stubbs came running to me and said that the Irishmen were setting across. I called myself an ass, snatched my sword, and made to the door.
“God bless thee with perseverance!” said the maid softly, using the Queen’s words in that brief epistle, which I had shown to her in our discourse; and with those sweet tones making melody in my heart I went forth to try a bout with Rory Mac Shane.
VII
When I came to the wall I beheld a half-score of the hide-boats being propelled over the lake, and four or five of the new-made platforms, each one pressed down by the burthen of men upon it. The number of our assailants was, I suppose, above a hundred, and against them we had less than a score. These by my appointment had taken post along the wall, having, besides their weapons, fragments of rock gathered from the ruinous battlements, stink-pots of homely device, and such other missiles as the people had been able to prepare. Of firearms we had but two old rusty pieces, my own pistol and the guns of my men having been sent away the night before with the succours dispatched to Kedagh O’Hagan. But I observed joyfully that our assaulters were in little better case in that regard, for when their quaint, unsteady vessels had come within shot of us, they discharged upon us only two or three bullets, which did us no harm, so ill-directed were they. My man Stubbs and another fellow gave them a shot apiece in reply, or rather they would have done, had not Stubbs’ musket burst in his hand, one of the fragments striking his brow and stunning him for some time. He bore the mark of it to his dying day.
As for the other men, I had charged them to do nothing until the adversary should come directly beneath the wall. In their haste and eagerness they did not all obey my behest, but the most part did, so that the vessels, when they drew in under, were assailed by a tempest of missiles which did much execution, and sent one of the frail barks of hide topsy-turvy to the bottom. Our garrison suffered no hurt at this first onset, save that one foolish old man, forgetful of my warning to cover himself with the wall, peered over to see what had been done, and fell with a dart in his throat.
But we being so few, certain of the enemy’s vessels escaped hurt altogether; and were no sooner beneath the wall than their crews hoisted the ladders, and fixing the hooks in crevices and gaps of the stonework, began incontinently to swarm aloft. Even the ladders were more in number than all the men of the garrison, and had Rory Mac Shane possessed a jot of generalship, it would have gone hardly with us. But he had taken no care that all his men should begin to mount at the same instant. Every man did what seemed good in his own eyes, so that we were able to run from one ladder to another, and with push of pike, or knife-thrust, or indeed with bare fists, to hurl the climbers down into the water or upon their platforms, ere they could make good their footing on the wall. This was, moreover, the easier for us, inasmuch as only one man could ascend each ladder at one time.
Yet we were hard put to it, I assure you. I had posted Stubbs at one end of our spread line, holding myself at the other, both of us ready to hasten to any spot that might seem more desperately menaced. So nimble were the attackers that we had much ado to convey ourselves with speed enough from point to point, and I am sure that neither he nor I had ever in our lives before so vigorously bestirred ourselves. Not once nor twice did we come in the bare nick of time where the danger threatened, and it being midday, and hot, we were soon reeking with our sweat.
From the beginning I had marked Rory Mac Shane himself, and kept as close a watch upon him as in the press and hurry I could. Being, as I have said, a man of monstrous bulk, he was not so nimble in his motions as the leaner fry, nor did not essay to mount upon a ladder among the first. But as I turned from dealing with one hardy climber, I espied Mac Shane, a good way off, swing himself from the top of his ladder and throw one leg across the wall, plying a doughty sword against an ancient servitor that sought to stay him with his pike. At the very instant of my espying him, he cleft the pike shaft clean through with his blade, and dealt the old man so grievous a wound that he dropt to the ground, coughing out his life-blood. I had leapt towards him, and immediately afterwards came upon him a-tilt; and having the advantage of him, as being balanced insecurely on the wall, I doubt not I should have sped him but that the dying man lay heaped between us. Whereby my sweeping stroke failed somewhat of its full momentum, and Mac Shane turned my sword aside as it was in the very act of falling upon his head. But giving back before my onslaught, he was dislodged from his perch, and toppled with a lusty shout backward into the water.
I had not time to look what had become of him, even had it been prudent to show my head above the parapet, being drawn to another part of the wall on a like errand. But after a minute or two, when I noted a faltering in the attack, I supposed that he had at the least got some damage, and hoped that it was grievous enough to render him unable for further fighting. There came no more men up the ladders; which seeing, we clambered upon the wall, and beheld the whole rout setting their craft towards the shore, some few, who had lost their standing, swimming by their side. We sped them on their way with a shower of whatsoever missiles we could first lay hands upon, and discovered that in the hurry of their flight they had left two of their ladders still hooked upon the wall. These we took as trophies. I was nowise ill-pleased to see Rory Mac Shane in his boat bearing marks of his discomfiture, his yellow hair falling lank like seaweed over his cheeks, and his obese frame seeming somewhat shrunken by reason that his sodden clothing hung more closely upon him.
When I turned from observing him, the Lady Sheila met me, bearing a brimming cup of mead.
“’Tis nectar, from a hand fair as Hebe’s,” said I, quaffing deeply.
The lustre left her face, and she looked stonily upon me, whereat in some surprise I said—
“Why, mistress, have I said aught amiss?”
“Nay, sir, what you say is naught to me, but—but I like not to be equalled with some English wench.”
“Good now!” said I, and could not forbear smiling. “Know you, mistress, that Hebe was no English wench, but a fair maiden of most illustrious lineage, daughter of gods, herself a goddess, eternally young, and her office was to bear the wine-cup of the high Olympians, and I bethink me she was given as wife to Hercules himself.”
“Oh, mock me not with your Hebes and your Hercules!” she cried in a pet. “I wish I had not brought you drink.”
“Nay, madam, for that I thank you heartily; and I shall hope to give you a better opinion of those of whom the poets sing, after this business is concluded.”
“A long after, I fear me,” she said, with a look of trouble.
“Why no; I trow we have taught them a lesson,” I said.
“You English are puffed up with your own conceit,” she cried scornfully. “Think you an Irishman, and Rory Mac Shane, will be daunted by one failure? He is reputed the best fighter of all men hereabout. But indeed, Master Rudd”—and ’twas marvellous how sudden her mood would change—“indeed, we talk idly, when my poor servants lie wounded. Help me, good sir, to tend them.”
“Two are past help, madam,” I said gravely; “the rest have suffered little hurt.”
She flew from me to the old man slain by Rory Mac Shane, and I saw the fair maid drop upon her knees, and breathe a prayer with moist eyes for the poor soul departed.
There was peace and a great quietude all that afternoon, though I took it to be that ominous calm which oft precedes a storm. Ever and anon there came to my ears from the distant woodland the ringing of axes, and I guessed that more ladders were to be made, and my heart sank; for with twice the number the adversaries would be too many for us to deal with piecemeal. But the day wore to evening, and the sun went down, and yet there was nothing done. I had set watchmen upon the battlements, to inform me if they saw aught; but when the country was blanketed in darkness, and the silence was unbroken save by the croaking of frogs about the margin of the lake, I supposed that our foes were taking their rest, to fortify themselves against the labours of another day.
It wanted an hour or two of midnight when my man Stubbs came to me from his outpost on the walls, and told me that the fleet of rafts and hide-boats had put forth from the shore, and was approaching in a ghostly silence. Now I have never held it a part of valiancy in a true warrior to oppose himself to invincible odds. My men being so few and weak, ’twas against reason that they should withstand a more numerous foe, who, taught by precedent mishap, would without question avoid their former errors, and, covered by the darkness, set up their ladders more thickly than we could counter. I shrank from throwing lives away vainly, and saw that we must abandon our outer rampart, and shut ourselves within the keep, whereto there was but one entrance, from the courtyard, and behind whose massy door I thought we should be safe. Accordingly I gathered all my company and withdrew them into the keep, barring the door with my own hand, and I sent the men into the watch-house above the door, bidding them hurl their missiles upon the heads of the enemy when they should make to assault us.
My prescience was approved ere many minutes were past. Looking from a window in the keep, I saw the wall thick with dark shapes mounting from innumerable ladders, and leaping down into the courtyard with scarce a sound. Some of them turned about, and began to haul on ropes, and there came over the wall two or three of their rafts, whereat I wondered, not divining what purpose these could serve. But in a little I saw their cunning device, for the Irishmen hoisted the rafts upon their shoulders, and employing them in the manner of what the Romans called a testudo, advanced, thus defended, towards the door of the keep. The missiles launched on them from above bounded off from those broad shields, as I knew by hearing rather than sight, for being now come within the shadow of the keep they were no longer visible.
Expecting a vehement onset upon the door, I ran down and posted myself with Stubbs and two or three more at the foot of the stairway. Mistress O’Hagan, in defiance of my express charge, had not taken refuge upon the roof with her household women, but stayed in a little room hard by the first winding of the stair. As it fell out, this flat obstinacy turned to our advantage.
We waited there at the foot of the stair, holding our weapons in readiness; but when, after some time, no assault was made upon the door, I began to be uneasy, and wished I might contrive to see what was a-doing. We were in utter darkness, and such poor candles as were commonly used would not suffice to cast an effectual light a yard length beyond the wall; but a thought coming into my head, I bade Stubbs take command of the men, and running upstairs to the lady, asked her if she had any means of making torches or flares. Instantly she led me by a back stair to a lower room where was a quantity of tow, and while I shredded this and fashioned it to my purpose, she fetched me a pot of swine’s lard and two long and slender chains. Then returning to the upper room, we kindled these flares, and let them down over the window-sill into the courtyard, amid a great outcry from the enemy. By their light we saw the courtyard swarming with men, and our people were able to take surer aim with their missiles; but we had little good of them, as you shall see.
I observed that the penthouse of rafts was still about the door, and was much perplexed as to what was a-doing there. On a sudden the rafts fell with a clatter upon the ground, and the men whom they had sheltered ran swiftly towards the wall, whither their comrades had retreated so as they might be the farthest possible from our missiles. The meaning of their behaviour flashed upon my mind, and in my haste letting fall the chain I held, I caught Mistress Sheila about the waist, and carried her swiftly into her inner room. I had but just set her down, she still grasping her chain, when from below there burst a shattering din, and the keep seemed to rock upon its base. Springing down the stairs, I rushed into the bitter smother of gunpowder smoke, and saw by the light of my dropped flare, that shone through a rent in the door, the men I had left thrown down in a heap upon the floor. One of them was dead, but the rest, though bruised and shaken, recovered from their benumbment in time to stand with me upon the lowest stairs, before the enemy, leaping across the courtyard, came with fierce shouts to enter by the breach they had made.
Happily it was so narrow as that only two men could come through abreast, and the stair wound in such sort that we had free play for our right arms, while the enemy were impeded by the round of the wall. So close cramped were we that there was no place for the subtleties of fence, in which we might have had some superiority over our less skilled adversaries. Stubbs and I, standing the lowest, plied our swords, made for nicer work, with mere vehemency, beating aside the weapons of our assailants, and using our points whenever we could. Behind us were two Irishmen armed with pikes, which they thrust between us, with no small risk to ourselves; and yet higher, a man hurled stones over our heads upon the thickening crowd.
The stairway rang with the clash of steel, the shouts of the enemy, and the groans of such as fell to our weapons. So little light had we from the expiring flare, and so confused was the mellay, that for some little while I was unable to discern the form of him I especially sought; but at length I perceived Rory Mac Shane striding over the prone bodies at the foot of the stairs, and mounting among three or four of his men. I was thinking to hazard a swift descent upon him, but anon a musket shot from the door struck the pikeman behind me, and he lurched against me, so that I could barely keep my feet. Another of my good Irishmen stooped to lift the pike that had fallen from his comrade’s hand, and in defending him I crossed the guard of Rory Mac Shane, and gave him the point of my sword in the throat at the opening of his tunic. He skipped back in time to escape mortal hurt, and at that instant a man one step below him lunged fiercely, and thrust the point of his long spear through the calf of my right leg. Mac Shane was roaring with pain, and upon his stepping back to staunch his wound, his followers drew away, giving us some respite, whereby I was able to make a shift to bind my handkerchief about my hurt. As I bent down I staggered and would have fallen but for the sustaining arm of Stubbs. My faintness filled me with dread; I would have given a world for a cup of water; and I sickened with dismay as I thought of what the end might be if my draining blood left me no strength to endure the fight.
The intermission was brief. Mac Shane gathered a little group about him, and setting up before them a portion of one of their rafts, they charged with the utmost impetuosity up the stairs. We were driven before them, hacking vainly at their shield. I cried to the man above me to stand by the door at the first landing; then bidding Stubbs run for his life, I made one more desperate onslaught upon the raft, and limping up with what speed I might, I slammed the door in the face of the enemy, and fell in much pain and giddiness upon the floor.
There coming out of my swoon I found my lady kneeling beside me, holding a cup from which she had poured wine between my lips. By the light of a candle which Stubbs had kindled I saw her face, ashy pale, but bending upon me so sweetly compassionate a look as shed upon my spirit abundant solace for my pain. I asked if all was well, and heard with no little amazement that an hour had gone since I shut-to the door, which the enemy had refrained as yet from anyways assaulting. I conjectured that they were biding their time till morning illumined the scene, being in no dubiety of the ultimate act, since they had us caged like rats in a trap. Indeed, they might wait for famine to vanquish us, unless perchance they had some dread of the return of Kedagh O’Hagan. That we could resist them long had no hope at all, for the upper doors might be forced more easily than the great door below, and we should be pressed back to the roof, where, overpowered by their greater numbers, we must succumb. It seemed that my eyes were the index to my thoughts, for looking earnestly upon me, the lady said—
“Good sir, you shall suffer no more for me. ’Tis not meet that a stranger lose his life in so poor a cause.”
“Nay, madam,” said I, “the cause is good, and the stranger not so strange neither. Besides, what will you do?”
“I will purchase your safety by yielding of the castle,” said she.
“And Rory Mac Shane?” I hinted.
She winced a little, and a shudder ran through her.
“There is always the lake,” she said in a whisper.
“O that I had a troop of Hilary Rawdon’s men, or Toby Caulfeild’s, or any other my companions?” I groaned out, as the meaning of her words smote upon my perception. And then, to ease the time, she questioned me of those friends I had mentioned; and as we talked of matchless doings by land and sea, beguiling thus our anxious spirits, the dawn crept upon us, and the sweet descant of a lark’s song floated in at the open window.
“‘Hark, hark, the lark at heaven’s gate sings,’” I said, using Will Shakespeare’s words. “Methinks that warble is of good augury for us.”
And as I rose stiffly to my feet, I heard faintly through the door the clash and rumble of armed men stirring below.
“Get you upon the roof, mistress,” I said hastily, taking my sword, and though I spoke masterfully, in a manner that had angered her before, she made no opposition, but flitted away, turning at the bend of the stair to give me a last look, mute but eloquent.
I dispatched all the men but three to the roof, bidding them hold the trap open for the final retreat. Hardly were they gone when there resounded a shattering blow upon the door. With my three men I stood upon the stairway, commending myself to God, and presently the door fell in before the redoubled assaults of a ram which the enemy had contrived to make, and there burst upon us Rory Mac Shane and a cluster of his minions. They were beset by so fierce a hail of stones from above that they gave back, but returned directly, bearing the shield of wood which we had aforetime proved invulnerable. Little by little the vehemency of their onset drove us back from one step to another. One of my Irishmen gasped out his life as a musket shot channelled his lungs. I heard my good Stubbs groan, and knew by and by that a dart had transfixed his arm. In that extremity I looked for Sergeant Death to lay his peremptory arrest upon me; but on a sudden, from above, I heard my lady’s voice cry with a ringing gladness that help was at hand. Whether the adversary understood her words I know not, but their import was not to be mistaken. Their fierce shouts sank to a sudden stillness; their ascent was stayed; and from below there rose the cries of men stricken with astonishment and fear. And as our near opponents halted in the pause of irresolution, I took a leap, and lighting full upon their wooden shield, dashed it and the men beneath pell-mell to the landing. And Rory Mac Shane, casting up his arms when he found himself staggering backward, bared his great breast to the unchecked thrust of my sword, which passing clean through him bored a passage for his soul.
VIII
“How now, my bully rook!” sang a well-remembered bluff voice in my ear some while after, for my ill-bound wound had bled afresh, and I had lain as one dead. “What! hast cheated man’s last enemy yet once again?”
And lifting my eyes I beheld the round ruby countenance of my comrade Toby Caulfeild, that commanded a troop of horse in the army of the Lord Deputy.
“All’s well?” I asked him feebly.
“All’s well that ends well,” said he, “though I misdoubt the end’s not yet.”
“My Lady Sheila?” I said.
“Ah yes, I have heard the name,” said he drily. “For a good hour you have done nothing but prattle of Sheilas and Hebes, and Hercules and roarers, mingling Christian and heathen in such sort that my very ears blushed to hear you.”
“What is done?” said I.
“Sundry things that cannot be undone,” said he, “namely, many ruffians sent to their account, many more so slashed and carved that all the surgeons in Christendom could not make of them aught but patchwork. We came in time to finish your work, my Chris, but only just in time.”
“I heard the lark singing,” said I, wandering somewhat in my wits.
“And shall again,” said he; “but indeed I know a song worthy two of that, and that was carolled by the rosy lips of a most enchanting damsel. Hark! I hear it even now.”
And I too heard the low, sweet music of my lady’s voice, trolling a ditty in a chamber not far away. And there broke into it the loud, rough utterance of a man, speaking words in the Irish tongue, and the song ceased.
“What rude unmannerly lubber——” I was beginning, but Toby checked me.
“Tush! a father stands on no ceremony with his child,” he said.
“Her father!” said I.
“Ay, her father, Kedagh O’Hagan, the arrantest rebel and the jolliest old swasher that ever ’scaped hanging. Hark while I tell you. We were in full cry after the O’Neill when a tatterdemalion kerne came hot-foot after us, bearing a letter very fairly writ but somewhat indictable in the article of spelling, addressed to our general; the which perusing, he read a very painful threat to hang you up if O’Hagan should suffer so much as the clipping of a hair. He twitched his brows—you know his way—and said that having fallen into the hands of some apparent termagant or vixenish shrew you must e’en abide his leisure, swearing roundly that Christopher Rudd’s head was nought in comparison with the rascal O’Neill.
“Well, it chanced some days after that we snared this Kedagh O’Hagan in our toils, and our general, who loves you heartily, gave him into my hands and bade him bring me to his lair, charging me to hang him in his own courtyard if you had been diminished by the paring of a nail. Last night, as we rode over yond hills, we saw a great way off two red fires descend as from the sky, and kindle their image in a space of water beneath. The sight put O’Hagan into a fret and fume, he declaring the lights portended some menace to his castle. We made all the speed we could, but what with the rough pathless hills and the villainous reechy fens, we had to go so far about that ’twas morning ere we came to the place. And as we issued forth of the wood yonder we saw the roof filled with women, of whom one at sight of us waved a handkercher as if to say ‘Haste! haste!’ Coming to the water’s edge, and finding no craft to ferry us across, we swam our horses, and some of us mounted the wall by ladders we saw hooked there for our conveniency, and so fell upon the pack of howling Irishmen in the courtyard and about the door. And when we had done our work, and the old man rushed panting up the stairs, raging for his daughter, he found her here with your head in her lap, dropping salt tears of happiness.”
I pressed his hand and thanked him for the service he had done me.
“Well, lad, well, ’tis nought,” said he. “Come now, your tale. I must hear about this pickle you fell into, and all the process of your adventures.”
I told him how I had been embogged, and brought hither to the castle, and how I had borne my part in defending it against the desperadoes; but I said no whit of my escape by diving, nor of my return. When I came to the end of my brief relation, Toby regarded me very whimsically.
“So, so, my Chris,” he said, “you deem your old friend Toby to be unworthy of your confidence. Why, man, I knew all that, and a great deal more; for I took the pains, when the damsel had related all to her father in a torrent of Irishry—the which methinks hath its melodies—I took the pains, I say, to persuade her to rehearse the same in English, which she did with a pretty smack of her tongue that pleased me mightily. She showed me the window whence you made your monstrous dive, waxed eloquent upon your chivalry in coming back to defend her, called you her noble captain, and, in short, so worked upon my inflammable heart that it pricked and stung with jealousy, and I wished I had been in your room.”
Hereupon our converse was broken off by the entrance of the maiden herself, leading by the hand a tall old man of a majestical and warlike presence. She brought him to my bedside, and spoke softly for his ear alone; and he thanked me with a noble grace and courtesy, and offered me the hospitality of his castle until my wound should be thoroughly healed.
When they had departed, Toby Caulfeild heaved a windy sigh.
“Good lack, I envy thee, Chris!” he said. “Never a maiden looked on me with such adorable eyes.”
“I did not mark her eyes,” said I.
“No, you had eyes for the old man alone,” said he. “I warrant she will look on me otherwise when I go hence, for the general charged me, if all was well with you, to convey the prisoner straightly back to camp. What am I to tell him of you, Chris?”
“It needs not that you tell him anything,” I answered. “I shall come with you.”
“Tush, man, ’twill be a month ere you can sit a horse in any comfort,” said he. “I know that, though I am no leech. And something whispers me that your fighting days are over. Never again shall we outface the murderous cannon together, never again mount side by side into the deadly breach. Alack, old lad, and wellaway!”
“You talk a deal of nonsensical nothing, Toby,” said I. “My organs are sound enough; shall I cease to bear arms for a paltry poke i’ the leg?”
“Ah, lad, I doubt your organs be not so sound as you suppose;” and saying this he sighed again, and smiled whimsically when I asked him if I had unawares been wounded in another part. “Time will show,” said he. “Now I must get me to horse, though I dread the lady’s anger when I tell her I must take her father hence.”
But after some time he came back in great cheerfulness of spirit.
“She received me sweetly,” he said, “avowed ’twas hard for a daughter to part from her father, but I must do my duty; said she had confidence in the courtesy of English gentlemen and knew we should treat her father well; assured me that you should have all good care and tendance, and thanked Heaven that Master Rudd had so true a friend. Then she smiled bewitchingly upon me, gave me her hand, and looked as though the greatest pleasure in life I could do her was to turn my back and hie me away. What will the Queen say, Chris?”
He laughed heartily at my bewilderment upon this question, then sighed again, shook my hand mournfully, and so departed.
It needs not to tell of those few weeks I spent in sickness on my couch, yet weeks of bliss and unimaginable contentment. My lady spent the greater part of every day with me, bringing me confections made by her own fair hands, smoothing my pillow, tending me with kind ministrations, reading to me prettily out of her books, and hanging upon my lips when I related, as she bade me, somewhat of my adventures. One day, when reading out of Master Spenser’s book, she faltered at those lines—
“Where they do feed on Nectar heavenly-wise,
With Hercules and Hebe and the rest,”
and with a pretty blush she listened as I told her those enchanting fables of the antique world.
“And I was jealous of Hebe!” she said.
“‘That canker-worm, that monster, Jealousy!’” I quoted from the same poem. “But why jealous of Hebe, mistress?” I asked.
“Because I was a witless, silly child,” she said. “Jealous of a goddess, indeed! But I knew not then she was a goddess.”
“You thought she was a maiden like yourself?” I said.
“Not like myself,” she said, “but fairer.”
“Was there ever fairer?” said I, under my breath.
“Tell me, are there many pretty ladies at your Queen’s Court?” she said.
I feigned to consider deeply, and rehearsed the names of some known to me, praising this one and that, and marking how her breath came and went.
“But no one durst say a good word of any in the hearing of the Queen,” said I. “She must ever be the fairest, the wittiest, the best proportioned, the most nobly endowed both in body and mind. Do you know, mistress, the Queen hath banished and even cast into prison many a man that has dared to wed one of her ladies?”
“Is she so unkind?” she said.
“And when Toby Caulfeild was leaving me he said, ‘What will the Queen say, Chris?’ and my doltish pate did not understand him.”
“Why, that is simple,” she said. “He meant that the Queen would be sore grieved at hearing of your hurt. With her own hand she wrote, ‘Thy loving sovereign.’”
“She will love me no more when she knows that I love thee,” said I, laying my hand upon hers.
She let it rest so for a little, and her cheeks went from red to pale, and from pale to red again. Then her hand stole from mine, and clasped the other upon her lap.
“Ay, none but thee,” I said, seeking her eyes beneath the covert of their lids. I breathed her name. I reached out my hand and gently unclasped her twining fingers, and with a lift of the eyes she gave me my answer.
“Let the Queen say what she will!” I cried in my joy. “There is a little place in our south country, Sheila, within sound of the sea, in a fair forest, near soft-running brooks. I would not exchange it for a king’s palace. Good-bye the Camp, good-bye the pomp and glitter of the Court. There will we nest ourselves, my sweet, away from the noise and racket of the world.”
Toby Caulfeild was approved a true prophet. My fighting days were done. We took up our abode, Sheila and I, on my little manor, out of the current of war and intrigue, untouched by the discords that rent England asunder when the great Queen had gone to her rest. I never saw the Queen again after that Christmas when she goaded me to fight; what she would have said on hearing that I had wed an Irish maiden without her royal consent could only be guessed. When I returned with my bride from Ireland, the Queen was deep sunk in a lethargy, and the joys and sorrows of mortality were beyond her ken.
Notes
1 It must be remembered that Englishmen of Christopher Rudd’s time were ignorant of the Irish civilization and literature which their ancestors had destroyed, and were even more apt than their descendants to decry what they did not understand.—H.S.