Meantime, Lord Derby had returned from the Isle of Man, and the Countess contrived to send him a dispatch, which found him at Chester, occupied in an endeavour to muster troops to march to her assistance; but as yet the Earl had a mere handful of men only, and three thousand soldiers surrounded Lathom.
Notwithstanding, the sorties from the house continued; cannon commenced to fire upon the walls, but thanks to the configuration of the ground, very ineffectually. The garrison was interested in watching the manipulation of a mortar which was planted on a little mound at the distance of half a musket range from the house. The first grenadoes from it passed over the roof of the house, to the great joy of the besieged, whom the Countess had supplied with the skins of the beasts slaughtered for the daily food of the soldiers, in order that they might extinguish the flames with these if the house should catch fire.
Four days of prayer and pious exercises interrupted the operations of the besiegers, four days of “sleep,” says the Royalist chronicler, profoundly incredulous in the matter of Colonel Rigby’s piety. At the expiration of this time the garrison determined to waken the besiegers by an angry sortie; they spiked several of their cannon, and took a number of men prisoners. The Countess, proud of having left hardly any of her own men in the hands of the enemy, would have surrendered these in exchange; and she offered to render up all the prisoners she had made, if the Parliamentarians would release some of the King’s friends detained at Manchester, Preston, and Lancaster. This Colonel Rigby promised to do; but he was wanting to his promise. “It was part of their religion,” says the narrator of the siege of Lathom, “to observe faith neither with God nor men; and there ensued a sad massacre of the prisoners at Lathom, whom the Countess could neither keep or release.”[[14]]
[14]. Halsall.
She was always engaged with her two daughters, Mary and Catherine, superintending everything, providing for the nourishment of the soldiers, seeing to the distribution of powder, tending the wounded, frequently upon the ramparts, always in chapel at prayer time, and smiling disdainfully when a bullet happened to fall into her sleeping-chamber. She did not even deign to change her apartment until she had received such a visit three or four times. “I will hold this house while there is a bit of wall to shelter me, and a corner of roof to cover my head,” she said, when she installed herself in the Eagle Tower in the middle of the building. A bomb had fallen and burst in the dining-hall during dinner, breaking all the casement panes, and smashing the furniture, but not wounding anyone. The children were beside their mother, but they had not stirred; scarcely had they changed colour. The Countess bestowed a glance of approval on them. That was all, and the repast was proceeded with.
Sir Thomas Fairfax, who from the beginning had never been heartily with his task, discovered towards the end of April that his presence was indispensable at York; and he delegated the command of the siege of Lathom House to Colonel Rigby. With the departure of Fairfax, the entire face of matters was changed. Lady Derby had no longer to do with “a gentleman, a sincere patriot, but a well-reared man, with a noble heart, and of pure hands. Her chief assailant now was an old attorney, a wretched lawyer, a pilferer, a thief, a hypocrite, determined not to be beaten by a woman.” He so little understood his new trade, that he allowed his plentiful supply of powder to be so flung about and wasted, that the besieged were able to renew their supplies of it from the trenches.[[15]]
[15]. De Witt.
There was no letting “I dare not wait upon I would” with this Roundhead warrior; and no sooner had he assumed the command than he announced his intention of attacking the house with mortar and cannon. The Countess was however, permitted the alternative of “giving up her house, garrison, arms and ammunition next day before two o’clock in the afternoon.” She was in the courtyard when the drummer who brought the summons presented himself at the gates. She took the letter, and, having glanced at it, said to the Parliamentarian: “You deserve to hang at these gates. But you are only the foolish tool of a traitor’s vanity. Therefore convey this answer to Rigby,” and she tore the paper in two. “Tell this insolent rebel that he will have neither our persons, goods, nor house. When our resources are exhausted, we shall find a fire more supportable than Rigby’s. If God’s providence does not come to the rescue, my house and my possessions shall burn before his eyes; and I, my children and my soldiers, sooner than fall into his hands, will seal our religion and our loyalty in the flames.”
She spoke in a loud, firm, and resonant voice. Her soldiers pressed round her. “We will die for his Majesty, and for our honour!” shouted they with one accord. The drummer departed from Lathom to cries of “Long live the King!”
The mortar to which the Parliamentarians pinned their faith was indeed a terrible engine of destruction. It was a monster which vomited forth flame and bombs with somewhat impartial energy to both besieged and besiegers. It was invaluable, of course, to the Parliamentarians; but it refused to be humoured, and while serving their turn upon their enemies, had done themselves no small damage. It might be, and was, the terror of the garrison; but it was a dangerous friend to those whom it served. It was capable of throwing stones thirteen inches in diameter and of eighty pounds’ weight, and also grenadoes, balls of iron filled with powder and lighted by fuses.