William Shakespeare as he lived Part 17

At this moment, and whilst all paused to consider the next move, the barrels of several calivers were thrust through as many holes which had been perforated through the ceiling, and a very lively discharge was kept up upon Sir Thomas and his party, which killing one of the men, quickly sent Grasp and the rest out of the doors; Grasp, who in his hurry and agitation being the last, closing the door behind him, and actually shutting Sir Thomas up alone amongst his foes.

"Heaven bless and preserve us all from conspirators," said the lawyer, jumping about and wringing his hands, as he hastily glanced amongst the scared domestics, "they have shot, killed, and destroyed the knight of Charlecote, as sure as I am a sinner! Sir Thomas Lucy is certainly murdered outright by this nest of vipers, for I see him not amongst us here?"

Confusion and dismay, indeed, sufficiently pervaded the attacking party.

They readily imagined their lord and master was slain, and to the horror of such a catastrophe was added their doubts as to what was next to be done; so that whilst some drew off from the near vicinity of tho house, others mounted their horses, and set off full cry to the town to get a.s.sistance.

In short, the a.s.saulters felt the want of a second in command. They were struck with dread at the supposed death of their leader, and the head falconer being killed also, there was no one to lead them, to the recovery even of the old knight's body, if he was indeed shot, or his rescue, if only wounded.

Grasp, however, did all he could to exhort some half-a-dozen who remained to make another attempt, to gain the interior. But the men very wisely demurred.

"Who think ye is to enter yonder dark place, to be killed like a fox in a hole?" said one.

"Nay," said another, "the matter is now none of ours to meddle with. If our master be killed by these villains, some one else must take it up, we have no further warranty to go forward; all we can do is to wait till a.s.sistance comes from the town."

In the midst of this colloquy, (and which had hardly taken as many moments as words used,) to the astonishment of the speakers, the sound of firing again commenced within the dwelling,--quick, short, and rapid, sounded the shots; whilst the old inn, as the gazers regarded it, although it seemed convulsed with internal discord, remained closed up, and its exterior undisturbed as if nothing extraordinary was going on. At the same moment, too, shouts and sounds from the town proclaimed that the townsfolk were coming to the scene of action.

"Gad he here," said Grasp, "what may this portend? The miscreants surely cannot be contending against each other, and cutting their own throats from sheer disappointment at being discovered in their villany!"

At this moment, and in the midst of these speculations upon the matter, the door opened, and enveloped in a volume of smoke, which burst out with him, begrimed too with soot and dirt, appeared Sir Thomas himself, who instantly closing the door after him, and coughing violently from the effects of the fumigation he had endured, waved his sword for his people again to advance.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE CAPTURE.

To account for this appearance we must return to the knight after he had been shut up within the hostel.

As he had never for a moment intended to give ground, he was in no wise daunted at being thus left alone, and as the closing of the door shut out the glare of light, it most probably was the means of saving his life, for could those above have distinctly seen and levelled their pieces at him, they would have shot him like a wolf in a trap. For the moment all was quiet, and casting his eyes round the gloomy kitchen Sir Thomas spied the remains of a fire in the grate, whilst fearful and hurried whispers, gradually growing louder and more vehement above his head, proclaimed that the conspirators were in earnest consultation.

Without a moment's delay, Sir Thomas (by aid of the fire on the hearth, and such combustibles as he could hastily collect) set to work with might and main, and lighted up a blazing bonfire in the very middle of the apartment.

The rushes with which the floor was partially strewed, materially a.s.sisted the blaze, and heaping chairs and other less c.u.mbrous articles upon it, whilst the astonished conspirators fired at him through the loop-holes, he soon effected a very alarming conflagration.

It was lucky for the knight that the construction of such a measure of defence, as that of perforating an upper floor to fire through, necessarily precludes any precision in taking aim, as it is almost impossible in a small opening of the sort, to get a good sight whilst levelling downwards, and consequently, although a continued discharge took place, whilst the knight busied himself in getting up the conflagration, although the b.a.l.l.s flew about his ears and buried themselves in the floor at his feet, not one struck him.

Under these circ.u.mstances, and whilst the conspirators were ignorant that the combustion which already became disagreeably apparent to them was being effected by one person, their persevering foe completed his arrangements, and jerking his powder flask into the flames, quickly opened the door, and as he could no longer remain safely within, coolly walked out.

Rea.s.sured by his appearance, those of his followers who were at hand hastened to the support of the knight, who instantly directed Grasp to proceed round to the door on the other side, with several of the men, and make instant capture of any of the conspirators who attempted to escape on that side.

"I have smoked the traitors in their den," said he, "and anon we shall have them swarming out. Make prisoners of all you can secure. Hurt none who yield, but suffer none to escape. If they resist, kill."

The anxiety of Grasp to see these mysterious plotters almost overcame his personal apprehensions. He therefore hastened round with the men under his charge, and in a few minutes the conflagration within forced the besieged to attempt a sortie. The door before which Sir Thomas had posted himself was thrown open, and (as smoke and flame gushed out) forth rushed half a dozen men so completely begrimed in soot that their features were scarcely distinguishable.

The conspirators evidently had made up their minds to a desperate effort at escape, for they dashed to the right and left sword in hand, cutting at all who opposed them.

"Yield thee, caitiff," cried Sir Thomas, flinging himself upon the foremost, and seizing him by the collar of his doublet with an iron grip, before he could strike a blow. "Yield thee, miscreant, in the Queen's name!"

The man accosted attempted to stab Sir Thomas with his dagger, but the knight dragged him headlong down, and stepping a pace or two back, at the same time absolutely flinging him to his men, rushed upon the next in the same manner, and, in this way, capturing three with his own hand, whilst his followers kept them in play.

The scene we have described fully exemplified the nature of a period in which deeds of violence and bloodshed, consequent upon the seditious and superst.i.tious bigotry of both religions, were by no means uncommon, breaking out too, as they oft-times did, in the midst of apparent tranquility.

Close upon the doors, in rear of the hostel, and at which the conspirators made their princ.i.p.al efforts at escape, stood Sir Thomas himself backed up by several of his men, conspicuous from his tall form and his activity in cutting down all who refused to yield. Somewhat removed, and at a safer distance, were to be seen a crowd of the townsfolk, with a portion of the town guard and the head bailiff, who had hastened to the scene upon the alarm of the encounter, accompanied by a legion of old women and idle boys. These, as they learned the nature of the business in hand, became proportionably excited against the conspirators, whom they seemed inclined to tear in pieces so soon as they could fairly get at them with safety to themselves.

"Oh! the miserable sinners," said Dame Patch. "I thought no good was going on down yonder, with all their silence, secret meetings, and keeping us women from amongst them."

"I always said there was a plot hatching to blow up the town and kill every Protestant in it," cried Doubletongue. "G.o.d save Sir Thomas. See, there's the last of the rogues down and being bound hand and foot!"

Such was indeed the case, and, except Somerville and another of the conspirators who escaped Grasp and his party, the whole (amounting to seven individuals) were down or captured, and, being bound, were delivered into the hands of the bailiff for safe custody.

No sooner was the business done, and the capture fairly effected, than the eccentric character of the knight of Charlecote again displayed itself. He had borne himself manfully during the fight, and as one worthy of his crusading ancestors, but his hauteur and reserve immediately succeeded to the violence of action.

Drawing together his people, he gave directions for the removal of the wounded into the town, where their hurts could be looked to. After which he mounted his horse, and calling for a cup of wine, he lifted his hat, and drank to the health of the Queen, the discomfit of the Spaniards, and the confusion of all Jesuits. After which he turned his horse's head from the Checquers, now filled with the idle and the curious, who had managed to extinguish the fire, and rode off towards Charlecote.

"Nay, but how am I to dispose of these prisoners, Sir Thomas?" said the head bailiff, stopping him as he pa.s.sed. "I should also like to learn the exact nature of the matter which hath led to this capture and the death of these people around us here."

"Of that you will better learn," said Sir Thomas, dryly, "by applying to your townsman there--Lawyer Grasp; and all further circ.u.mstances connected with them, I opine you will speedily be made acquainted with by the Queen's council, as I am myself led to believe by what Master Grasp hath informed me."

So saying, Sir Thomas bowed to the head bailiff, and rode away from the scene of his achievements.

CHAPTER XVIII.

A REVEL AT CLOPTON.

On the night which followed the action we have described, and which the inhabitants of Stratford long afterwards called the fray of the Checquers, Sir Hugh Clopton held an old accustomed feast at his house.

The entertainment was given in honour of his daughter's birthday, the maiden having just completed her seventeenth year; and on this interesting occasion most of the old knightly families of the county of Warwickshire graced the scene. There came the Astleys of Hill Moreton, the De la Wards of Newton, the Clintons of Badsley, the Walshes of Mereden, the Blenknaps of Knoll, the Wellesbourns of Hastang, the Comptons of Compton Winyate, the Sheldons of Beoley, the Attwoods, and many other n.o.bles, whose names now, like those once owning them, in all the pride of ancestral honours, are obliterated from the muster-roll of the living, and long forgotten in the very domains which owned them as lords; and last, though by no means least, came the knight of Charlecote and his lady, and their two lovely daughters.

It was indeed a goodly a.s.semblage of the rank, youth, and beauty of the county of Warwick of that period. The old folks stately in manner and formal in costume; the men, looking in their starch ruffs, short cloaks and trunks, quaint cut doublets and peaked beards; and the women, in their jewelled stomachers and farthingales, like so many old portraits stepping forth from their frames; whilst the youth of both s.e.xes, in all the bravery of that age of brave attire, glittered in silks and satins, gold and embroidery, bright jewels and richly mounted weapons. Nothing, indeed, could exceed the gallant look of the cavaliers who trod a measure in the dance, except it were the loveliness of their bright partners. Those youthful and fresh female buds of England, so celebrated for their native beauty; fair, and blooming, and swan-like in their graceful carriage--"earth-treading stars, that make dark heaven bright."

The music rang out from a sort of a temporary orchestra, formed at one end of the hall, arched over and festooned with sweet flowers and green shrubs. It consisted mostly of stringed instruments, which gave forth a silver sound, accompanied by the deep tones of the ba.s.soon and the occasional flourish of the horn, and whilst the dancers trod a measure, and the different guests, in all the freedom of unchecked enjoyment, wandered about, how sweetly the strains floated through those oak-panelled rooms, reverberating in the long corridors and pa.s.sages, and, mellowed by distance, thrummed in the upper rooms.

It mingled with the whispered softness of the lover's tongue, sounding doubly sweet by night. It added to the charm of beauty, as she listened to the flattering tale, till the coyness of the half-won maiden seemed to relax in music; and the glittering cavalier, with renewed hope, led her to the dance.

How inferior is the fussy and excited style of our own days compared with such a scene as this, where all was open-hearted gaiety and enjoyment, where, without effort, all was dignified, and brilliant, and picturesque.

The very serving-men and maids, ranged in a long row at the lower end of the hall, seemed to add to the effect of the picture. The men in their rich liveries with heraldic badge upon the sleeve; the maids, all in one sort of costume, fitting and becoming for their station in life; nay, the orchestra itself was a picture, composed as it was of respectable personages from the town of Stratford, grave-looking, bearded, and staid, working away at their different instruments, as if it was a matter of national pride and import,--the celebration of the fair Charlotte's natal day. Each in his quaint-cut doublet and scarlet hose.

How they clutched at the ba.s.s-viol, those fat citizens, and glowed with the strains they produced; how the fiddlers jerked and worked at their bows, with heads going, and feet keeping time: how the puffed cheek of the horn-blowers seemed to grow distended to the degree of exploding; and how the eyes of the whole party seemed to roll about in agony, and follow the dancers as their strains excited them to fresh efforts; and how resolutely, ever and anon, they paused to take a long pull at the huge flagons placed within their reach; returning to their instruments with renewed vigour, and stamping to keep time, as if sitting still was almost too great an effort, and they longed to jump up, and fling out amongst the best there; urging one another to quicker movements and louder strains as the liquor mounted and the evening wore on.

Amongst that gay and brilliant throng there was one whose whole soul seemed wrapped in melody. The soft tones of the floating minstrelsy seemed to steal upon his heart. He stood apart from all: aloof in person as in mind, leaning against one of the quaint-cut ornaments of the room.

As his eye wandered amongst the gay dancers, his countenance was at times lighted up by an expression which seemed divine. The greatness of his soul shone out in his glorious countenance, and yet, save by two persons, he was all unmarked.

It was the boy poet, the youthful Shakespeare.