Traditions of Lancashire (Volume 2) online

his voice grew tremulous and convulsed. " The stricken
one shall fall. — Hark ! The hounds are again upon my
track ! " The well-practised ear of the hunted fugitive could
discern the approach of footsteps long before they were
audible to an ordinary listener : — his eye and ear seemed
on the stretch; — his head bent forward in the same
direction ; — he breathed not. Even Constance seemed
to suspend the current of her own thoughts at this inter-
ruption.

" They are approaching. In all likelihood 'tis a posse
from the sheriff." Again he listened. " They are armed.
Nay, then, Tyrone thou must to cover : thou canst not



THE EARL OF TYRONE. 67

flee. Point not to the hiding-place I have left. If, as I
suspect, they bring a warrant of search, thy father's life
may be in jeopardy."

" Where, — oh, where ?" said Constance, forgetful of all
consequences, in her anxiety for her father's fate and that
of the illustrious stranger.

" In thy chamber, lady."

She drew back in dismay.

" Nay," continued he, guessing at the cause of her
alarm, " they will not care to scrutinise for me there
with much exactness ; and, by the faith of my fathers, I
will not wrong thee ! "

There was a frankness, an open and undisguised free-
dom of manner in this address, which assured her. Her
confidence returned, and she committed herself promptly
to the issue. She felt her soul expand with the desire
of contributing to his ultimate escape. All the ardour of
her nature was concentrated in this generous and self-
devoted feeling. Too innocent for suspicion, she seemed
to rise above its influence.

Silently, and with due caution, she led the unfortunate
Earl to her own chamber, where, in a recess opening
through the bed's head into the arras, he seemed secure
from discovery.

Scarcely was this arrangement completed, ere a thun-
dering knock announced the visitor. It was an officer of
justice, attended by some half dozen followers, who
watched every avenue to the house whilst his message
was delivered within.

This official delivered into the hands of Holt a warrant
for the apprehension of O'Neale, Earl of Tyrone, a traitor,
then suspected of being harboured in the mansion of
F 2



68 THE EARL OF TYRONE.

Grislehurst, whom the occupier was commanded, on pain
of being treated as an accomplice, to deliver into the
hands of justice, for the due administering of those pains
and penalties which were attached to his crime.

The loyal owner, fired with indignation at this foul
charge, rebutting the accusation with contempt :

" However loth," said the messenger, " I must exe-
cute mine office ; and, seeing this first mission hath failed
in its purpose, I have here a warrant of search. Mine
orders are imperative."

" I tell thee I have no plotters lurking here. Search
and welcome; — but if thou findest aught in this house that
smells of treason, the Queen may blot out my escutcheon.
I'll dismount the pheon. The arrow-head shall return to
its quiver. 'Twas honestly won, and, by our lady's grace,
it shall be honestly worn ! "

" We must obey," said the officer : — " it shall be done
with all courtesy and despatch."

Holt bit his lips with rage and vexation. From the
suspicion of harbouring and aiding the traitor Tyrone, his
known loyalty and good faith should have protected him.
He hoped, however, to throw back on the author of this
foul slander the disgrace attached to it. Smothering his
wrath, and brooding over its gratification, he accom-
panied the messenger, who, placing an additional guard
at the main entrance, proceeded with a wary eye to the
search. He carefully scrutinised the shape of the rooms,
striking the walls and wainscots, measuring the capacity
of the chambers, that no space might be left unaccounted
for either in one way or another. The concealed apart-
ment in the chimney-range did not escape his examin-
ation. Closets, cupboards, folding-doors, — even the family



THE EARL OF TYRONE. 69

pictures were turned aside, lest some stratagem should
lurk behind.

Holt with a look of malicious satisfaction beheld every
fresh disappointment, which he followed with undisguised
expressions of ill-will.

" Now for the women's apartments," said the officer.

" I have but one daughter : — Dost fancy that treason
may be stitched in her petticoat ? — Thinkest thou she
would hide this invisible gallant in her bedchamber ?
'Sdeath, that it should ha' come to this ! — But I'll have
my revenge."

" I would fain spare thee from this contumely, —
but "

" But what?"

" I must search the house through ; and though I doubt
not now that our information is false, yet I may not dis-
obey the mandate I have received."

" Is this thy courtesy ?"

" My courtesy must yet consist with the true and
honest discharge of mine office — I wait not further parley."

A short gallery communicated from the stairhead to
the private chamber of Constance. They met her outside
the door ; and the timid girl grew pale, as she beheld the
official led on by her father.

" Constance," cried he, " thy chamber smacks of trea-
son : it must be purged from this suspicion. This mous-
intr owl will search the crannies even of a woman's wits
ere he sate his appetite for discovery. Hast' aught
plotting in the hem of thy purfle, or in thy holiday ruff
and fardingale ? Come with us, wench : — the gallant Earl
of Tyrone would sport himself bravely in thy bed-
chamber, pretty innocent ! "

F 3



70 THE EARL OE TYKONE.

" If ray gallantry were akin to mine office, — then, lady,
would I spare thy bosom and mine own nature this ex-
tremity. Believe me, thou shalt suffer no rudeness at my
hands."

The officer bowed low, observing her confusion and
distress.

" Go with us," said her fether, " and leave not until
our search is over. Mayhap he may find a lover in thy
shoe, or in the wrinkles of thy rose-tie." He entered the
chamber as he said this. It was a little room, tricked out
with great elegance and beauty. Indian cabinets were
there, and other costly ornaments, inlaid with ivory and
pearl, in the arrangement of which, and of the other fur-
niture, considerable taste was displayed. A lute lay in
one corner ; — tambour-work and embroidery occupied a
recess near the window ; — the clothes' presses showed
their contents neatly folded, and carefully set out to the
best advantage.

" I'faith, wench, thy chamber seems well fitted for so
goodly a brace of guests — not a thread awry. Every
thing in trim order for thy gallants, mayhap. Thou hast
not been at thy studies of late. — I have seen its interior
in somewhat less orderly fashion. I marvel if it might not
be pranked out for our coming. Now, to work, Sir : —
where does thy grubbing begin ?"

Constance posted herself in a gloomy corner, where
she could watch their proceedings almost unperceived.
She hoped that in her chamber the search would not be
so strict as in situations of more likelihood and probability
for concealment. At any rate, the common feelings of deli-
cacy and respect, — not quite extinct, she observed, even
in this purveyor of justice, — would prevent any very ex-
act and dangerous scrutiny. Nor was she deceived. He



THE EARL OF TYRONE. 71

merely felt round the walls, opened the presses and
closets, but did not disturb the bed-furniture. He was
retiring from the search, when her father scornfully
taunted him with the ill success of his mission.

" I wonder thou hast not tumbled the bed topsy turvy.
I am glad to see thou hast yet some grace and manners in
thy vocation. Now, Sir Messenger, to requite thee for this
thy courtesy and forbearance, 1 will show thee a secret
tabernacle, which all thy prying has not been able to dis-
cover."

Saying this, he approached the bed : a spring was
concealed in one of the posts communicating with the
secret door behind which Tyrone was hidden. As he
turned aside the drapery to ascertain precisely its situ-
ation, Constance, no longer able to control her appre-
hension of discovery, rushed before him. Her terror, for
the time, threw her completely from her guard.

" Do not, my father : — he must not look there. For
ray sake, oh, spare this "

She was silent : — her lips grew deadly pale ; and she
leaned against the pillar for support. The officer's sus-
picions were awakened, and he gave a shrewd guess at
the truth.

" Now, fair dame," he cried : " it is but an ungracious
office to thwart a lady of her will, but I must see what lurks
in that same secret recess. Master Holt, I prythee help
me to a peep behind the curtain."

But Holt was too much astonished to comply. What
could exist there, to excite his daughter's apprehensions
so powerfully, puzzled him greatly. He had not a thought,
the most remote, that could affiect her fidelity ; — yet he
hesitated. The officer, in a more peremptory tone, de-
F 4



72 TIIK EAltL OF TYRONE.

manded admission. Rousing from his stupour, and morti-
fied at the folly of these girlish fancies, he struck the
spring : in a trice, a portion of the bed's head flew open,
displaying a dark chasm beyond. Swift as thought, the
officer darted through the aperture; but the door was
immediately shut, and with great violence. A scuffle was
heard within, but not a word was spoken. Holt, in doubt
and consternation, gazed with a wild and terrific aspect
on the devoted Constance, who, covering her face, sought
to avoid seeing the expected result of her imprudence.
Her father now listened. There was a dread suspense in
his look, more fearful than even the most violent outburst
of his wrath. He seemed every moment to expect some
irrefragable proof, — some visible and overwhelming con-
viction of his daughter's infamy. The door was still
closed. Groans were plainly audible, telling of some ter-
rible strife within. Suddenly these indications ceased.
Holt shuddered. He fancied some foul act was perpe-
trating — perhaps even now consummated — under his own
roof; and swift would be the vengeance required at his
hands. Constance, too, seemed to apprehend the com-
mission of some deadly crime, as she threw herself im-
ploringly before her father.

" Save them, — oh, save them ! — their strife is mortal!"
He shook her from him with a glance of abhorrence, and
the maiden fell heavily ob the floor. He was preparing
to enter, when the door flew open, and a form rushed
through in the gaudy apparel of the officer. He leaped
on the floor, and, ere Holt could utter a word, he heard
him descending the stairs with great precipitation.

"Whom hast thou concealed in thy bedchamber?"
enquired the almost frantic father. Constance sat on the



THE EARL OF TYRONE. 73

ground, her head resting on the chair beside which she
had fallen. She wept not, but her heart was full, even to
bursting.

" What is the name of thy paramour ? — Thou hast been
somewhat eager, methinks, to accomplish thine own and a
father's disgrace ! "

This cutting address roused her. She replied, but in a
firm tone, —

" A stranger, — an exile. Misfortune appeals not to
woman's heart unalleviated. He threw himself on my
protection ; and where the feelings own no taint, their
purity is not sullied, — even in a lady's bedchamber ! "

A glance of insulted pride passed over her beautifully-
formed features. It was but for a moment. The agony
of her spirit soon drank up the slender rill her feelings
had gushed forth ; and she stood, withered and drooping
before the angry fi'own of her father.

" Surely, 'tis not the rebel Tyrone that my daughter
harbours in the privacy of her chamber ? Speak ! — Nay,
then hast thou indeed brought an old man's grey hairs to
the grave in sorrow ! Treason ! — Oh, that I have lived
for this, — and my own flesh and blood hath done it. Out
of my sight, unnatural monster. Dare not to crawl again
across my path, lest I kill thee ! "

" Oh ! my father, I am indeed innocent." She again
threw herself at his feet, but he spurned her from him as
though he loathed her beyond endurance. Boiling, and
maddened with rage at the presumption of this daring
rebel, Holt, forgetful of his own danger, seized the light.
He burst open the secret door ; but what was his astonish-
ment on beholding, not the hated form of Tyrone, but
the officer of justice himself, gagged, pinioned, and de~



74- THE EARL OF TYRONE.

prived of his outer dress. The cap and mantle of Tyrone,
by his side, told too plainly of the daring and dangerous
exploit by which his escape had been effected.

The outlaw, soon after his enlargement, finding that the
cause he had espoused was hopeless, and that matters
were at the last extremity in his own fate, and that of his
unhappy country, — fearful, too, of drawing the innocent
Constance and her father into the deep vortex of his own
ruin, — made all haste to the capital, where, through the
powerful interest excited in his behalf, aided by his well-
known valour, and the influence he was known to possess
amongst his countrymen, he received a free pardon from
the queen.

Yet his thoughts lingered on the remembrance of her
to whose heroic and confiding spirit he owed his safety.
Never had his proud bosom been so enthralled. Though
nurtured in camps, amid the din of arms and the shout of
the battle, yet his knowledge of the female heart was
almost intuitive. He had loved more than once, but in
every case the attachment ended unhappily, terminating
either by the death of the object, or by some calamity his
own evil fate had unavoidably brought upon its victim.
Though fearful the same operation of his destiny would
ensue, and that misery and misfortune would still follow
the current of his affections, yet he resolved to behold
once more the maiden lie loved, with an ardour almost
surpassing his own belief.

One cold dull morning, towards the wane of the year,
when the heavy drops lay long on the rank herbage ; no
sunbeam yet loitering through the damp chiU atmosphere,
but the sky one wide and unvarying expanse — a sea of
cloud : — here and there a black scud passing over, like a



THE EARL OF TYRONE. 75

dim bark sweeping across the bosom of that " wave-
less deep," a stranger stood by a low wicket near the
mansion of Grislehurst He looked wistfully at the
gloomy wmdows, unlighted by a single reflection from
without, like the rayless night of his own soul : — they
were mostly closed. A mysterious and unusual stillness
prevailed. The brown leaves fluttered about, unswept from
the dreary avenues. Decayed branches obstructed the
paths ; and every object wore a look of wretchedness and
dilapidation. The only sign of occupancy and life was
one grey wreath of smoke, curling heavily from its vent,
as if oppressed with the gloom by which it was surrounded.
The melancholy note of the redbreast was the only living
sound, as the bird came hopping towards him with its
usual air of familiarity and respect. Enveloped in a
military cloak, and in his cap a dark feather drooping
gently over his proud features, the stranger slowly ap-
proached the house : a side-door stood partly open. He
entered. A narrow passage led into the hall. No embers
brightened the huge chimney. The table showed no
relics of the feast, — no tokens of the past night's revel.
The deer's antlers still hung over the master's place at
the board, but the oaken chair was gone. Dust and de-
sertion had played strange antics in these " high places."
The busy spider had wreathed her dingy festoons in
mockery over the pomp she degraded.

He listened, but there was no sound, save the last
faint echo of his footstep. Turning towards the stair-
case, a beautiful spaniel, a sort of privileged favourite of
Constance, came, with a deep growl, as if to warn away
the intruder. But the sagacious animal suddenly fawned



76 THE EARL OF TYRONE.

upon him, and witli a low whine ascended the stairs,
looking back wistfully, as though inviting him to follow.

Scarcely knowing why, or bestowing one thought on
the nature of his intrusion, he ascended. The place
seemed familiar to him. He entered a narrow gallery,
where he paused, overcome by some sudden and over-
whelming emotion. The dog stood, too, looking back
with a low and sorrowful whine. With a sudden effort
he grappled with and shook off the dark spirit that threat-
ened to overpower him. A low murmur was heard, ap-
parently from a chamber at no great distance. Without
reflecting a moment on the impropriety of his situation,
he hastily approached the door. His guide, with a look
of almost irresistible persuasion, implored him to enter.

It was the chamber of Constance. A female was kneel-
ing by the bed, too much absorbed to be conscious of his
approach: she was in the attitude of prayer. He re-
cognised the old nurse, — her eye glistening in the fervour
of devotion, whilst pouring forth, to her Father in secret,
the agony of soul that words are too feeble to express.

Bending over the bed, as if for the support of some
frail victim of disease, he beheld the lord of the mansion.
His look was wild and haggard ; — no moisture floated
over his eyeballs : they were glazed and motionless ;
arid as the hot desert, — no refreshing rain, dropped from
their burning orbs, dimmed with the shadows of despair.

Stretched on the bed, her pale cheek resting on the
bosom of her father, lay the yet beauteous form of Con-
stance Holt. A hectic flush at times passed across her
features. Her lip, shrunk and parched with the fever
that consumed her, was moistened by an attendant with
unremitting and unwearied assiduity ; — her eye often



THE EARL OF TYRONE. 77

rose in tenderness on her parent, as if anxious to impart
to him the consolation she enjoyed.

" Oh, I am happy, my father ! " Here a sudden change
was visible, — some chord of sorrow was touched, and it
vibrated to her soul.

Her father spoke not.

" I have loved ! — Oh, faithfully. But, now — let me die
without a murmur to Thee, or one wish but Thy will, and
I am happy !" She raised her soft and streaming eyes
towards the throne of that Mercy she addressed. The
cloud passed, but she sunk back on her pillow, exhausted
with the conflict. Her father bent over her in silent
terror, anticipating the last struggle. Suddenly he ex-
claimed, as if to call back the yet lingering spirit : —

" Live, my Constance ! Could I save thee, thou blighted

bud — blighted by my " His lip grew pale ; he

struck his forehead, and a groan like the last expiring
throe of nature escaped him.

" Would the destroyer of my peace were here ! — 'Tis
too late — or I would not now forbid thy love. But he was
a traitor, a rebel — else — "

Constance gradually revived from her insensibility. A
sudden flash from the departing spirit seemed to have
animated her — a new and vehement energy, which
strangely contrasted with her weak and debilitated frame.

" I have seen him," she cried. " Oh, methought his
form passed before me; — but it is gone!" She looked
eagerly round the apartment ; other eyes involuntarily
followed, — but no living object could be distinguished
through the chill and oppressive gloom that brooded over
that chamber of death.



78 THE EARL OF TYRONE.

" It was a vision — a shadowy messenger from the
tomb. Yet, once more if I might see him — ere I die."
A deep sob, succeeded by a rapid gush of tears, relieved
her ; but it told of the powerful and all-pervading passion
not yet extinguished in her breast.

" We shall meet ! " again she raised her eyes towards
that throne to which the sigh of the sufferer never as-
cended in vain.

" Yes, my own — my loved Constance, now ! " cried
the stranger, rushing from his concealment. He clasped
her in his arms. A gleam, like sun-light across the wave,
shot athwart the shadow that was gathering on her eye.
It seemed the forerunner of a change. The anxious
father forbore to speak, but he looked on his daughter
with an agony that seemed to threaten either reason or
existence. Constance gazed on her lover, but her eye
gradually became more dim. Her hand relaxed in his
grasp, yet her features wore a look of serenity and
happiness.

" Oh, most merciful Father ! thou hast heard my prayer,
through Him whose merits have found me a place in
that glory to which I come. Be merciful to him whose
love is true as mine own, and faithful unto death. Ty-
rone, we meet again ! — Oh, how have I prayed for thee ! "
Her eyes seemed to brighten even in this world with the
glories of another.

" Farewell ! — I hear the hymns of yon ransomed ones
around the throne. They beckon my spirit from these
dark places of sorrow. Now — farewell ! "

She cast one look towards her lover : it was the last
glimpse of earth. The next moment her gaze was on the



THE EARL OF TYRONE. 79

brightness of that world whence sorrow and sighing flee
away. So sudden was the transition, that the first smile
of the disembodied spirit seemed to hnger on the abode
she had left, like the evening cloud, reflecting the glories
of another sky, ere it fades for ever into the darkness and
solitude of night.



HOGHTON TOWER.



VOL. 11.



" Pastime with good company
I love, and shall until I die ;
Grudge so will, but none deny ;
So God be pleased, so live will I.

For my pastance,

Hunt, sing, and dance,

My heart is set ;

All godly sport,

To my comfort.

Who shall me let ? "

The Kinges Balade.

" God gives not kings the stile of gods in vain.
For on his throne his sceptre do they sway :
And, as their subjects ought them to obey.
So kings should feare and serve their God againe. "

King James to his Sok Prince Henry.



HOGHTON TOWER,



" JL HE ancient castle denominated Hoghton Tower stands
on the summit of a hill, formerly shrouded with trees, four
miles and a half west of Blackburn. It was erected by Sir
Thomas Hoghton, in the beginning of Elizabeth's reign. It
remained for several generations the principal seat of the
Hoghton family ; and after part of it had been blown up
by accident, when garrisoned for Charles the First, the
injury was repaired. The family have now removed to
Walton Hall : and Hoghton Tower is left to decay, two
poor families inhabiting the south wing only. A pon-
derous gateway, immediately vmder the centre tower, leads
to the quadrangular court-yard, capable of holding six
hundred men. The noble embattled tower, forming the
west front, with its two minor square towers, serve as
appendages to the north and south wing, and are united
by low walls. Within the court-yard, a noble flight of
steps leads to the middle quadripartite, similar in aspect to
Stonyhurst College, the ancient residence of the Sher-
bornes. This middle pile contains large staircases,
branching out to long galleries, into which the several
chambers open. One chamber, still called James the
First's room, is considered ' most Avorthy of notice ; ' it
has two square windows in, both north and south, is
c: '2



84 HOGIITON TOWER.

beautifully wainscoted, and contains some old furniture.
A fine prospect is gained from this ancient and seques-
tered abode; the pretty village of Walton-le-dale, de-
lightfully situate in a valley, the improving town of
Preston, and the single-coned Nase Point presenting itself
majestically in the distance. The gentle river Darwen
pursues its placid course among the enclosures at the base
of the hill."

The above description, extracted from " Nichols's
Royal Progresses of James the First," and likewise the
particulars scattered through the following tale, will, we
hope, convey to the reader a pretty accurate idea of
this noble but deserted mansion.

A petition, which was presented here (some say at
Myerscough) to King James, by a great number of
Lancashire peasants, tradesmen, and servants, requesting
that they might be allowed to take their diversions (as of
old accustomed) after divine service on Sundays, is said
to have been the origin of the " Book of Sports," soon
after promulgated by royal authority. James being per-
suaded those were Puritans who forbade such diversions,
and that they were Jewishly inclined, because they affected
to call Sunday the Sabbath, recommended that diverting
exercises should be used after evening prayer, and ordered
the book to be read publicly in all churches ; and such
ministers as refused to obey the injunction were threat-
ened with severe punishment in the High Commission
Court. This legal violation of the day which is unequivo-
cally the Christian Sabbath, roused at the time the in-
dignation of the seriously disposed, and has been fre-
quently reprobated by historians. Foremost of its opposers,