The Manchester Rebels of the Fatal '45

CHAPTER XVI.
THE JOURNEY

The old family coach, with four horses attached to it, was drawn up in the court-yard. The luggage was packed. The servants were assembled in the hall to bid their young mistress good-bye, when Constance and Monica came downstairs fully attired for the journey.

They were followed by Miss Rawcliffe's pretty maid, Lettice, who, with the man-servant, Gregory, had been chosen to accompany them to London. Lettice carried a great bundle of cloaks, and looked full of delight, forming a strong contrast to the young ladies. Monica, indeed, was dissolved in tears, and hurried on to bury herself in the furthest corner of the carriage.

Constance, though wearing a sad expression, was far more composed, and replied kindly to the valedictions of the household. She also bade adieu to Father Jerome, who attended her to the door, and gave her his benediction. To Markland she had a few words to say, and she then stepped into the carriage, followed by Lettice. After putting up the steps, and fastening the door, Gregory mounted to the box.

All being now ready, Markland bowed respectfully, and ordered the postillions to drive on. Next moment the large coach rolled over the drawbridge, and the old butler and the gate-keeper watched it as it took its way through the park. The drive was not very cheerful, but before they reached Macclesfield, Constance had recovered her spirits.

At the Old Angel they found Dr. Byrom and his daughter, who had posted from Manchester, waiting for them. The doctor's trunks were quickly transferred to the carriage, while he and Beppy took their seats inside. No inconvenience whatever was caused by this addition to the party, for the coach was capacious enough to hold half-a-dozen persons comfortably. That night they stopped at Ashbourne, and next day proceeded to Leicester.

It is not our intention to describe the journey to London, unmarked as it was by any incident worthy of note, but we must mention that, owing to the unfailing good humour of Dr. Byrom and his daughter, the three days spent on the road passed away very pleasantly.

No more agreeable companion could be found than the doctor, and if Beppy did not possess the remarkable conversational powers of her father, she was extremely lively and entertaining. She made every effort to cheer Monica, and to a certain extent succeeded.

Dr. Byrom had far less difficulty in dissipating Constance's gloom, and leading her to take a brighter view of the future. So confident did he seem that a pardon could be obtained for Atherton, that her uneasiness on that score, if not removed, was materially lightened.

With the exception of Dr. Byrom, not one of the travellers had previously visited London, and when they first caught sight of the vast city from Highgate Hill, and noted its numerous towers and spires, with the dome of St. Paul's rising in the midst of them, they were struck with admiration.

They were still gazing at the prospect, and Dr. Byrom was pointing out the Tower and other celebrated structures, when the clatter of hoofs reached their ears, and in another minute a well-mounted horseman presented himself at the carriage window. At first the young ladies thought it was a highwayman, and even Dr. Byrom shared the opinion, but a second glance showed them that the formidable equestrian was no other than Atherton Legh.

"My sudden appearance seems to alarm you," he cried smiling, as he bowed to the party. "I have been nearer to you than you imagined, and could at any time have overtaken you had I thought proper. But before you enter yonder mighty city I should like to know where I shall find you.

"We shall put up at the St. James's Hotel in Jermyn Street," replied Dr. Byrom, "but you had better not come there at first. I will give you a place of rendezvous. Be in the Mall in St. James's Park to-morrow afternoon, about four o'clock, and look out for me."

"I will not fail," replied Atherton. Again bowing round and glancing tenderly at Constance, he galloped off.

Gregory, the man-servant on the box, and the postillions, had seen his approach with dismay, being under the same impression as the gentlefolks inside, and fully expected the carriage would be stopped. Gregory, however, speedily recognised the young gentleman, and called to the postillions that it was all right.

Brief as it was, the unexpected rencounter was highly satisfactory to Constance, as it relieved her mind of any anxiety she had felt as to Atherton's safety.

Within half an hour after this little incident, which furnished them with abundant materials for conversation, they reached the outskirts of London, and were soon making their way through a variety of streets towards the west end of the town.

Prepared as they were for something extraordinary, our young country ladies were fairly bewildered by all they beheld. Oxford Street they thought wonderful, but it was quite eclipsed by Hanover Square, Bond Street, and Piccadilly.

At length they reached Jermyn-street, where they found very charming apartments at the St. James's Hotel.

End of the Fifth Book

BOOK VI.
KENNINGTON COMMON

CHAPTER I.
MONICA VISITS JEMMY IN NEWGATE

On the morning after the arrival of the party in town, Monica being all anxiety to see her lover, Dr. Byrom accompanied her in a hackney-coach to the prison in which poor Jemmy was confined. During the drive she supported herself tolerably well, but on reaching Newgate she well-nigh fainted.

The necessary arrangements for her admittance to the prisoner having been made by the doctor, he assisted her out of the coach.

On entering the lodge she was obliged to remove her hood. A gaoler then conducted them along a passage that skirted the refection-hall, after which they ascended a short stone staircase which brought them to a gallery containing several chambers.

Unlocking the door of one of these cells the gaoler disclosed Jemmy. He was seated at a small table reading, and on raising his head, and beholding Monica, he sprang to his feet, and with a cry of delight clasped her to his breast.

So tender was their meeting that even the hardened gaoler was touched by it.

For a minute or two Jemmy did not notice Dr. Byrom, but on becoming sensible of his presence he wrung his hand, and thanked him in heartfelt tones for bringing his mistress to him. The doctor then told Monica that he would wait for her in the hall below, and quitted the cell.

"And so this is your prison-chamber, dearest Jemmy!" said Monica, glancing round it. "'Tis just the room I pictured from your description."

"I thought it dismal at first," he rejoined; "but I have become quite content with it. I shall feel no longer miserable since you are come. You must never leave me more."

"I never will," she replied.

They then lapsed into silence. Words seemed unnecessary to express their thoughts, and it was quite happiness enough to them to be together.

Leaving them we shall follow Dr. Byrom to the hall ward, where he found several prisoners assembled. Amongst them were Theodore Deacon and Tom Syddall. Taking the former aside he acquainted him with the death of his brother Robert, of which the young man had not heard. Though deeply affected by the intelligence, Captain Deacon bore it firmly.

Shortly afterwards Colonel Townley entered the hall, and on seeing Dr. Byrom immediately came up to him, and shook hands with him very cordially.

"We meet again under rather melancholy circumstances, my dear doctor," he said. "But I am extremely glad to see you. Fortune has played me false, but I hope she has nothing worse in store for me. The Government must deliver me up. They cannot deny that I hold a commission from the King of France, and that I have been fifteen years in the French service. Still I know the hazard I run," he added, shrugging his shoulders. "But come with me to my room. I want to say a word to you in private."

With this, he led the doctor to a cell situated near the hall. It was somewhat larger than the chamber allotted to Captain Dawson, and better furnished.

"Pray take a seat," said the colonel, doing the honours of his room. "I want to learn something about Atherton Legh."

"He is safe and in London," replied Dr. Byrom. "I expect to see him to-day. I hope to procure him a pardon, and I will tell you how. You are aware that his mother was Miss Conway. She was sister to Colonel Conway, who is now aide-de-camp to the Duke of Cumberland, and a great favourite of his royal highness. If Colonel Conway will intercede for his nephew with the duke, no doubt he will be successful."

"I should think so," replied Townley. "But is Colonel Conway aware of his nephew's existence?"

"No," replied Dr. Byrom. "If he has heard of him at all, it must be as Captain Legh. He may have seen him at Carlisle."

"Yes, when the young man was captured during a sally," said Townley; "but he knew nothing of the relationship. However, unless the Colonel should be deeply offended with his nephew for joining the prince, he can obtain his pardon, that is certain. Was there any intercourse between Sir Richard Rawcliffe and the Conway family?"

"Not since the death of Sir Oswald's widow. They did not like him – and no wonder. But all this is favourable to our young friend. They will be glad to recognise him as Sir Conway."

"I don't doubt it," replied Townley. "I hope he may regain Rawcliffe Hall, and marry his fair cousin."

They then began to discuss political matters, and were talking together in a low tone when the gaoler entered the cell, and informed Dr. Byrom that the young lady he had brought to the prison was waiting for him. The doctor then took leave of his friend, promising to visit him again very shortly, and accompanied the gaoler to the lodge, where he found Monica. A coach was then called and took them to Jermyn Street.

CHAPTER II.
COLONEL CONWAY

They found Constance and Beppy prepared for a walk. Beppy had taken particular pains with her toilette, and being rather gaily attired, formed a contrast to Constance, who was still in deep mourning. They tried to persuade Monica to accompany them, but she declined, so they went out with Dr. Byrom, and walked down St. James's Street to the Park. The day was fine, and they were quite enchanted with the novelty and brilliancy of the scene. Both young ladies looked so well that they attracted considerable attention among the gaily-attired company. After walking about for some time they perceived Atherton, who immediately joined them. He was plainly but handsomely dressed, and looked exceedingly well.

"I have arranged matters for you," said Dr. Byrom. "A room is secured for you at the St. James's Hotel. You must pass as my son Edward. That will remove all suspicion."

"I shall be quite content to do so," replied the young man.

They then continued their walk, and had quitted the crowded part of the Mall, when an officer in full uniform, and followed by an orderly, was seen riding slowly down the avenue in the direction of the Horse Guards. He was a fine handsome man in the prime of life, and of very distinguished appearance. Atherton immediately recognised him as Colonel Conway, and, acting upon a sudden impulse, stepped forward to address him.

Colonel Conway reined in his steed, and returned the young man's salute.

"I forget your name," said the colonel. "But unless my eyes deceive me, I have seen you before."

"You saw me at Carlisle, colonel."

"Why, then, you were in Colonel Townley's Manchester Regiment – you are the rebel officer whom I myself captured. How is it that you act in this foolhardy manner? I shall be compelled to order your immediate arrest!"

"Not so, colonel. I am perfectly safe with you."

"How, sir!" cried Colonel Conway, sharply. "Dare you presume?"

"You will not arrest your sister's son," replied Atherton.

"Did I hear aright?" exclaimed the colonel, scanning him narrowly.

"Yes, I am your nephew, the son of Sir Oswald Rawcliffe," replied the young man.

Colonel Conway uttered an exclamation of surprise.

"I don't doubt what you say," he cried. "You certainly bear a remarkable resemblance to your father. Am I to conclude you are the missing heir?"

"Even so," replied Atherton. "I have sufficient proofs to support my claim whenever I choose to make it. But it is a long story, and cannot be told now. Dr. Byrom of Manchester will vouch for the truth of the statement."

And at a sign from the young man the doctor stepped forward.

"I did not expect to be called up at this moment, colonel," said the doctor. "But you may rest satisfied that this young gentleman is your nephew. He is the lost Sir Conway Rawcliffe."

"But you did not serve under that name at Carlisle?" cried the colonel, eagerly. "If I remember right, you were known as Atherton Legh?"

"Exactly," replied the young man. "I have not yet assumed my rightful name and title."

"I am glad of it," cried the colonel. "By heaven! I am fairly perplexed how to act."

"You will not act precipitately, colonel," said Dr. Byrom. "It was my intention to communicate with you on your nephew's behalf this very day."

"I wish I had not seen him," cried the colonel. "Why did he put himself in my way?"

"I had no such design, sir, I assure you," said Atherton.

"Will you allow us to wait on you, colonel?" asked Dr. Byrom.

"Wait on me! No! unless you want the young man to be arrested. Where are you staying?" he added to Atherton.

"You will find me at the St. James's Hotel at any hour you may please to appoint, colonel."

"I am staying there, colonel," said Dr. Byrom; "and so is Miss Rawcliffe – the late Sir Richard Rawcliffe's daughter."

Colonel Conway reflected for a moment. Then addressing Atherton, he said:

"On consideration, I will see you. Be with me at Cumberland House to-morrow morning at ten o'clock."

"I will be there," was the reply.

"Mind, I make no promises, but I will see what can be done. I should wish you to accompany the young man, Dr. Byrom."

The doctor bowed.

"You say Miss Rawcliffe is staying at the St. James's Hotel?"

"She is staying there with my daughter and myself, colonel. They are both yonder. May I present you to them?"

"Not now," replied the colonel. "Bring them with you to Cumberland House to-morrow. They may be of use." Then turning to Atherton, he added, "I shall expect you."

With a military salute, he then rode off towards the Horse Guards, followed by his orderly, leaving both his nephew and the doctor full of hope, which was shared by Constance and Beppy when they learnt what had occurred.

CHAPTER III.
CUMBERLAND HOUSE

Next morning, at the hour appointed, Constance and Beppy, accompanied by Dr. Byrom and Atherton, repaired to Cumberland House in Arlington Street. Sentinels were stationed at the gates, and in the court half-a-dozen officers were standing, who glanced at the party as they passed by. In the spacious vestibule stood a stout hall-porter and a couple of tall and consequential-looking footmen in royal liveries. One of the latter seemed to expect them, for, bowing deferentially, he conducted them into a handsome apartment looking towards the Park.

Here they remained for a few minutes, when a side door opened and an usher in plain attire came in, and addressing the two young ladies, begged them to follow him.

After consulting Dr. Byrom by a look they complied, and the usher led them into an adjoining apartment, which appeared to be a cabinet, and where they found a tall, well-proportioned man in military undress, whom they took to be Colonel Conway, though they thought he looked younger than they expected to find him.

This personage received them rather haughtily and distantly, and in a manner far from calculated to set them at their ease. He did not even beg them to be seated, but addressing Constance, said:

"Miss Rawcliffe, I presume?"

Constance answered in the affirmative, and presented Beppy, to whom the supposed colonel bowed.

"I have heard of your father," he said. "A clever man, but a Jacobite." Then turning to Constance, he remarked, "before you say anything to me understand that every word will reach the ears of the Duke of Cumberland. Now what have you to allege in behalf of your cousin? On what grounds does he merit clemency?"

"I am bound to intercede for him, sir," she replied; "since it was by my persuasion that he was induced to join the insurrection."

"You avow yourself a Jacobite, then?" said the colonel, gruffly. "But no wonder. Your father, Sir Richard, belonged to the disaffected party, and you naturally share his opinions."

"I have changed my opinions since then," said Constance; "but I was undoubtedly the cause of this rash young man joining the insurgent army. Pray use the influence you possess over the duke to obtain him a pardon."

"What am I to say to the duke?"

"Say to his royal highness that my cousin deeply regrets the rash step he has taken, and is sensible of the crime he has committed in rising in rebellion against the king. He is at large, as you know, but is ready to give himself up, and submit to his majesty's mercy."

"If grace be extended to him I am certain he will serve the king faithfully," said Beppy.

"I will tell you one thing, Miss Rawcliffe, and you too, Miss Byrom; the Duke of Cumberland feels that a severe example ought to be made of the officers of the Manchester Regiment. They are double-dyed rebels and traitors."

"But we trust his royal highness will make an exception in this case," said Beppy. "We would plead his youth and inexperience, and the influence brought to bear upon him."

"But all this might be urged in behalf of the other officers – notably in the case of Captain James Dawson."

"True," said Beppy. "But as I understand, they are not willing to submit themselves, whereas Sir Conway Rawcliffe has come to throw himself upon the king's mercy."

"But how can we be certain he will not take up arms again?"

"Such a thing would be impossible," cried Constance, earnestly. "I will answer for him with my life."

"And so will I," cried Beppy, with equal fervour.

"Once more I implore you to intercede for him with the duke," cried Constance. "Do not allow him to be sacrificed."

"Sacrificed! His life is justly forfeited. When he took this step he knew perfectly well what the consequences would be if he failed."

"I cannot deny it," replied Constance. "But he now bitterly repents."

"Surely, sir, you will answer for him," cried Beppy.

"I answer for him!" exclaimed the supposed colonel.

"Yes, for your nephew," said Beppy. "Had you been with him he would never have taken this false step."

"Well, I will hear what he has to say. But I must first make a memorandum."

He then sat down at a table on which writing materials were placed, and traced a few lines on a sheet of paper, attaching a seal to what he had written. This done he struck a small silver bell, and, in answer to the summons, the usher immediately appeared. Having received his instructions, which were delivered in a low tone, the usher bowed profoundly, and quitted the cabinet.

Scarcely was he gone when an officer entered – a fine commanding-looking person, but several years older than the other.

On the entrance of this individual a strange suspicion crossed the minds of both the young ladies. But they were left in no doubt when the new-comer said:

"I trust Miss Rawcliffe has prevailed?"

"I must talk with your nephew, Colonel Conway, before I can say more."

"Colonel Conway!" exclaimed Constance. "Have I been all this time in the presence of – "

"You have been conversing with the Duke of Cumberland," supplied Colonel Conway.

"Oh, I implore your royal highness to forgive me!" exclaimed Constance. "Had I known – "

"I shall die with shame!" cried Beppy.

At this moment Dr. Byrom and Atherton were ushered into the cabinet.

On beholding the Duke of Cumberland, whom both the new-comers recognised, they knew not what to think, but each made a profound obeisance.

"This is my nephew, Sir Conway Rawcliffe, your royal highness," said the colonel.

"Hitherto, I have only known him as Captain Legh, the rebel," observed the duke, rather sternly.

"Rebel no longer," said Colonel Conway. "He has come to deliver himself up to your royal highness, and to solicit your gracious forgiveness for his misdeeds."

"Does he acknowledge his errors?" demanded the duke.

"He heartily and sincerely abjures them. If a pardon be extended to him, your august sire will ever find him a loyal subject."

"Is this so?" demanded the duke.

"It is," replied the young man, bending lowly before the duke. "I here vow allegiance to the king, your father."

"Well, Sir Conway," replied the duke, "since you are sensible of your errors, I will promise you a pardon from his majesty. But you will understand that a point has been strained in your favour, and that you owe your life partly to the intercession of your uncle, whose great services I desire to reward, and partly to the solicitations of these your friends. It has been said of me, I know, that I am of a savage and inflexible disposition; but I should be savage, indeed, if I could resist such prayers as have been addressed to me – especially by your fair cousin," he added, glancing at Constance.

"Those who have termed your royal highness savage have done you a great injustice," she said.

"I must bear the remarks of my enemies," pursued the duke, "satisfied that I act for the best. Here is your protection," he continued, giving Sir Conway the document he had just drawn up and signed. "You will receive your pardon hereafter."

"I thank your royal highness from the bottom of my heart," said Sir Conway. "You will have no reason to regret your clemency."

"Serve the king as well as you have served his enemies, and I shall be content," said the duke. "'Tis lucky for you that your estates will not be forfeited. But I hope your fair cousin may still continue mistress of Rawcliffe."

"I would never deprive her of the property," said Sir Conway.

"Nay, you must share it with her. And take heed, my dear young lady, if you are united to Sir Conway, as I hope you may be, that you do not shake his loyalty. You must forswear all your Jacobite principles."

"They are forsworn already," she said.

"May I venture to put in a word?" observed Dr. Byrom. "Such faith had I in your royal highness's clemency, and in your known friendship for Colonel Conway, that I urged his nephew to take this step which has had so happy a result."

"You then are the author of the plot?" cried the duke.

"Perhaps I was at the bottom of it all," cried Beppy. "I don't like to lose my share of the credit. I had the most perfect confidence in your royal highness's good-nature."

"'Tis the first time I have been complimented on my good-nature," observed the duke, smiling – "especially by a Jacobite, as I believe you are, Miss Byrom."

"After what has just occurred I could not possibly remain a Jacobite," she said. "I shall trumpet forth your royal highness's magnanimity to all."

"And so shall I," said her father.

"When next I see Sir Conway Rawcliffe," said the duke, "I trust it will be at St. James's Palace, and I also hope he will bring Lady Rawcliffe to town with him. Meantime, I advise him to retire to his country seat till this storm has blown over. It may possibly fall on some heads."

"I shall not fail to profit by your royal highness's advice," replied Sir Conway, bowing deeply.

Profound obeisances were then made by all the party, and they were about to depart, when the duke said in a low tone to Constance:

"I depend upon you to maintain your cousin in his present disposition. Go back to Rawcliffe Hall."

"Alas!" she rejoined, "I would obey your royal highness, but I cannot leave just now. My cousin, Miss Butler, is betrothed to Captain Dawson, of the Manchester Regiment. I must remain with her."

"Better not," rejoined the duke, in an altered tone. "But as you will. 'Twill be vain to plead to me again. I can do nothing more."

Colonel Conway here interposed, and, taking her hand, led her towards the door.

"Say not a word more," he whispered; "or you will undo all the good that has been done."

The party then quitted Cumberland House, and returned to the St. James's Hotel.

Needless to say, they all felt happy – the happiest of all being Sir Conway.

The Duke of Cumberland's injunctions were strictly obeyed. Next day, the family coach was on its way back, containing the whole party, with the exception of poor Monica, who would not return, but was left behind with Lettice.

Three days afterwards the Duke of Cumberland, attended by Colonel Conway, proceeded to Scotland, where the decisive battle of Culloden was fought.