Sir John, suspecting nothing, went on his way to Brighouse, and coming upon some armed men on the roadside whom he knew not, courteously "vail'd his bonnet," when Adam Beaumont stepped forward and said—
"Thy courtesy 'vails thee not, Sir Knight,
Thou slew my father dear,
Sometime Sir Robert Beaumont hight;
And slain thou shalt be here."
The others addressed him in like terms. "Whose fathers' blood," said they all, "we are now come to revenge upon thee and thine." They then attacked him, his followers drawing their weapons and rallying round him in his defence, and a general fight commenced between the two companies, several on both sides being wounded. At length the four young men, who kept together, succeeded in separating Sir John from his followers, and inflicting upon him numerous wounds, left him lying bleeding and dying upon the turf. Knowing that such a crime as the murder of the King's Sheriff could not pass unnoticed, as soon as they felt assured that they had accomplished their revenge they hastened back into Lancashire, but feeling that they would not be safe at Townley Hall, they went onward into Furness, then a wild unfrequented corner of the county, with few inhabitants excepting the monks of the abbey and a few peasants who were dependent upon it, and hid themselves in the recesses of the woods, among the caves and fells, depending upon their bows for the supply of their daily food. And thus ends the second act of the drama.
In the meanwhile, Sir John's son, a second Sir John, succeeded to Eland, who was married and had a son, then a young boy, who might also have succeeded but for the machinations of the allies in Furness. During the winter they had been laying their plots, and came to the determination of utterly extirpating the male line of the Elands, and arranged to attack Sir John on his way to or from church on Palm Sunday. Accordingly, in the spring, they came secretly to Crumblebottom Hall, where they lay perdu to watch events, and, on the eve of Palm Sunday, concealed themselves in Eland Mill. Their proceedings, however, were not so secret but that rumours of impending evil reached the ears of Sir John, and on Sunday morning he told his wife that he should not go out that day, but she rallied him on his fears, and urged that he must go to church on that specially holy day as an example to others, upon which he reluctantly assented, but took the precaution of putting on a coat of mail beneath his waistcoat.
The confederates and their followers saw the sun rise on the morning of Palm Sunday as they lay in the mill, and began to prepare for their meditated deed, when the door was suddenly opened, and the miller's wife entered for some corn which her husband had sent her for. They immediately seized her, bound her hand and foot, and told her that if she cried out they would knock her on the head. Not returning in due course, her husband grew wroth at her dalliance.
"The miller swore she should repent,
She tarried there so long;
A good cudgel in hand he went,
To chastise her with wrong."
But the miller, instead of amusing himself by thrashing his wife, met with the same fate that she had undergone, and was thrown, securely bound, on a heap of flour-sacks beside her.
Sir John, his wife, and little son, left Eland Hall for church, taking a short cut over the stones of the mill-dam which was nearly empty in consequence of a drought. As he was stepping over Beaumont shot an arrow at him which glanced off his coat of mail, as did Lockwood with a like effect. The villagers, who were going to church, seeing this, came running up, when Lockwood shot another arrow, which pierced Sir John's brain, whilst another from Quarmby, mortally wounded the boy.
They had now accomplished their vengeance; the male line of the Elands was extinct; but it behoved them to look to their own safety, as the villagers, armed with clubs and hatchets, were assembling in great force. They rushed out of the mill, fought their way along Whittlelane End to Old Earthgate, and hence to Anely Wood, hotly pursued by their foes. Willet, Smith, Remington, and Bunney, yeomanry officers, also summoned their men, who armed themselves with "pitchforks, long staves, knotted clubs, and rusty bills," and joined the hunt. As their foes neared them, they faced round and presented a bold, resolute front, as long as their arrows lasted, when they again took to flight; Lockwood carrying off Quarmby, who had fallen wounded. They gained the shelter of the wood, where they left Quarmby, dead, and each sought to shift for himself. Beaumont took refuge in Crosland Hall, and stood on his defence with the bridge drawn up; he afterwards escaped to France, fought against the Turks in Hungary, where he won great fame and honour, and eventually became a Knight of Rhodes. Lockwood sought shelter in Camel Hall, but was captured when incautiously visiting a village maiden with whom he had an amour, and was put to death there and then, and so ended the race of the Lockwoods. What became of Lacy is not known. Sir John Eland, the younger, left a daughter and heiress, who married Sir John Savile, of Tankersley, and conveyed the Eland and other estates to that family.