XXX
Of the First Siege of Pontefract Castle
Ben Tuckett, I think, was somewhat comforted when he heard that Captain Trevor had ridden away, but he had hardly recovered his peace of mind when a fresh matter came to trouble him. This time it was not his heart that was threatened, but his pocket, and though Ben was a true and honest lover, he had a trader’s liking for his broad pieces, and cared not to see his substance threatened, nor his trade likely to suffer injury.
It was Ben’s way to come to me with all his doubts and fears, and I felt sure that something had happened, or was about to happen, when I caught sight of him coming along the highway one morning about a week after Captain Trevor had left us. His head hung very low, and his face was so doleful that I wondered if there had been a fire in his shop, or if thieves had stolen his goods.
“Why, how now, Ben?” said I. “What fresh matter hath come to trouble thee? Thou lookest as if all the woes of the world were settling on thy shoulders.”
“Alas, Will!” said he, and sat him down on the low wall that shuts out our fold from the house. “Alas! I think there is naught but trouble in this world. One down, and t’other comes on before you have got your wind again. Alas! and I had just painted my shop—three pound did it cost, honest money, hardly earned. Yes, three pound did I pay to John Simpson for painting of it, and now I dare say shop and stock will be burnt up.”
“What, is there a fire in the town?”
“Nay,” said he, “but there will be fire–yea, and smoke and all.”
“It strikes me, Ben, that your wits are gone a-wool-gathering. What is all this talk of fire and smoke?”
“My wits are as sound as thine. What, man, have you not heard, then, that the Roundheads are going to besiege the Castle?”
“Yes, many a time during this last three years.”
“Ay, but the investment hath begun. Colonel Sands fell in with a foraging party from the Castle yesterday, and killed some, captured others, took all the cattle, and made forty horse prisoners.”
Now, this was news indeed, for though we had expected that Pontefract Castle would be besieged sooner or later, there had been such delay in the commencement of active operations that we had begun to think the enemy were never coming to decisive action in the matter. This Colonel Sands, indeed, had been sent by the Parliamentarians to invest Pontefract Castle soon after the great fight at Marston Moor, but his force was so small that he had done little more than keep an eye on the motions of the garrison.
“And now,” continued Ben, “they will be fighting and slaying night and day, and the soldiers will take what they please in the town without paying for it, and some of their bombs are sure to hit my shop, and perchance set it afire, and then where shall I be? Even if it is not set on fire, it will be dashed to pieces, which is just as bad.”
However, as things turned out, Ben’s sorrowful anticipations were not realized for another month or two, for Colonel Sands, getting no further reinforcement, was obliged to content himself by sitting down before the Castle, and waiting until such time as help came to him. After a time the castles of Helmsley and Knaresborough fell, and the troops that had besieged them being thus set free to pursue other service, they came to Pontefract under the command of Sir Thomas Fairfax, who early in December drove in the garrison, seized the town, and began a close investment of the Castle.
Now, at that time the Castle of Pontefract, which is now reduced to ruins, was one of the strongest fortresses in England, being almost impregnable on account of its situation It was built upon a great rock, from the summits of which are to be seen most diversified views of the surrounding country. Looking towards the northwest you will see the valley of the Aire, which winds in and out through meadow and sand until it is lost in the far distance amongst the hills of Craven. To the north and the northeast the land is flat, but extremely rich in woods, and beyond these rise the towers of York Minster. To the eastward, the Aire pursues its way towards the Humber, passing through a rolling country, and underneath the great hills of Brayton and Hambledon, which relieve the somewhat flat character of the land thereabouts. Southward the landscape presents a fine prospect of agricultural country, and to the southwest the hills of Derbyshire, in the neighbourhood of that great eminence which they call the Peak, rise up and shut out further prospect. How many villages and thorpes you may see from the height of this rock I cannot say; only I know that wherever you look you will catch sight of a gray spire peeping over the thick groves that shut in the red-roofed villages.
But if the prospect from the various towers and battlements was a fine one, the Castle itself was not less worth seeing. In my schooldays, indeed, I was never at a loss for something to look at and admire so long as I could run out of bounds to the great fortress built by the De Lacys, so many hundred years before. There I have spent many an hour in company with Jack Drumbleforth and Ben Tuckett, gazing at the towers and the drawbridges and the barbicans, where a watch was kept for the coming of an enemy. Once or twice, too, I had been admitted within the Castle, and had wandered about it, wondering at it more and more with every step I took. For there were so many curious nooks and corners in it that it was just the sort of place a lad likes to spend an afternoon in, especially if he be fond, as I was, of aught appertaining to war. Later on, when I had grown up nearly to a man’s estate, I became more closely acquainted with the Castle, and did often go there to see certain friends of mine who were attached to the garrison. Now, when I heard that General Fairfax had arrived in front of the Castle and intended besieging it, my first thought was that he would have naught but his pains for his gains, for the place was so exceedingly strong, and so favoured by its natural position, that I did not think any besieging force, however powerful, could dislodge a resolute garrison already in possession. I have told you that the Castle stood on a great rock, which, being raised to a considerable height, did tower high above the surrounding ground. Then there was a deep moat on the west side, and another on the east, and all round the battlements were towers from which active operations could be kept up against the enemy with great safety to the defenders. Round the great yard of the Castle stood seven larger towers, and beyond the western extremity of the yard was the keep, which was built of an extraordinary strength, as the thickness of the ruined walls will show you to this day. As there was no high ground in the immediate neighbourhood of the Castle, the highest being Baghill, some little distance away, the besieging force was naturally at a disadvantage, and likely to lose more men in carrying out its operations than were the besieged, who could keep up a steady fire upon their enemies without exposing themselves to much danger. Nevertheless, by making a close investment, it was possible to starve the garrison into a surrender, and this was what General Fairfax prepared to do rather than to seize the Castle by sheer force of arms.
The investment had no sooner begun than life was lost on either side, the Parliamentarians, however, suffering much more considerably than the Royalists. The siege having closely begun on Christmas Day, 1644, the first skirmishes took place around the ancient church of All Saints, which stands at the foot of the Castle on the west side. Now, the church was so valuable an outwork, both of security and defence, that certain of the besieged endeavoured to retain possession of it, and were soon resisted in that enterprise by the Parliamentarians, who came in strength and finally drove out the little garrison of the church, of whom they killed four men and wounded eleven. This victory, however, cost them dear, for the defence was kept up so gallantly that sixty of the attacking force were slain and forty more wounded.
After this preliminary engagement the siege went forward briskly enough, and at first the garrison had a distinct advantage and caused the Parliamentarians much annoyance by their steady fire from the towers of the Castle. Presently, however, Lord Fairfax, father of Sir Thomas, brought reinforcements to his son, and with him came the cannon which had been used at the sieges of Helmsley and Knaresborough, so that the attacking force became well equipped for their work. Before they began the erection of their batteries, however, Lord Fairfax despatched a message to Colonel Lowther, governor of the Castle, summoning him to surrender at once. To this epistle Colonel Lowther presently returned answer, that according to his allegiance he would defend the Castle to the utmost of his power, trusting to God and the virtue of his cause for assistance. After which there was no more to be said on either side, and the enemy, recognising this, began their cannonade from several quickly constructed batteries, built on the rising ground all round the Castle, and in the space of the next three days they poured over one thousand balls into the walls and towers which they were anxious to destroy. So well were their guns laid, that on the 19th of January the Pix Tower, which was one of the seven that surrounded the courtyard, fell down with a great noise and carried a portion of the Castle wall with it, whereby a breach was made and the besiegers’ hopes of a speedy victory considerably heightened. It was then expected by the garrison that an assault would be made upon them, and their fear of this was increased when they saw the enemy’s horse and foot drawn up as if in readiness to advance against them. The Governor, however, exhorted them with much confidence to the performance of their duty, and the whole garrison manned the towers and walls and made ready to defend their position with great cheerfulness. Lord Fairfax, however, thought it unwise to attempt an assault by way of the breach, and gave orders that the blockade should continue, so that the besieged might be starved into surrender. Shortly after this Lord Fairfax returned to York, leaving his son, Sir Thomas, in command, who in his turn was succeeded immediately afterwards by Colonel Lambert, under whom the further operations were carried out.
The garrison did not suffer the breach to be widened, but hastened to repair the damage already done, and so well did they work that presently the hole was filled up again, and all fear of a sudden surprise removed. The Parliamentarians, however, seemed not to favour an assault, and soon began to mine in the neighbourhood of the towers. One mine came from the hospital at the east end of the Castle, and was made in the direction of the King’s Tower. Another was begun in the house of one Ward, a burgess who lived near the Castle, and was directed towards the Round Tower. The besieged, however, speedily frustrated the designs of the enemy by sinking countermines, which ran from pits dug within the walls and proceeded in the direction of the besiegers’ works. Of these mines there were some hundred and thirty in and about the Castle, so that the ground in that quarter was like a honeycomb.
When February set in poor Ben Tuckett’s fears began to be realized, for the garrison commenced a regular fire against the besiegers and considerable damage was done in various parts of the town. Several houses in Micklegate were reduced to ruins, and there was none safe from receiving a cannon-shot through its walls. Fresh horrors were added to this state of things when certain houses in Northgate, which had been occupied by the Parliamentarians, were set on fire and left to destruction. Then, indeed, did Ben’s face grow long and sad, for he saw naught but ruin for him and his fellow-traders, who loved not the presence of the Parliamentarian troops in their midst and would have given a good deal to see them march away. This desire, however, was anything but gratified, for reinforcements kept coming into the town, so that the besieging force attained greater proportions.
Before the end of February the garrison were in dire straits for want of provisions, and the Governor, coming to the conclusion that he must soon be forced to capitulate unless help and supplies came, despatched messengers to the King, informing his Majesty of the condition they were in. This appeal was not in vain, for the King immediately despatched Sir Marmaduke Langdale with two thousand men to the assistance of the garrison at Pontefract. This army of succour came from Oxford by way of the Midlands and Doncaster, and passed our house at Dale’s Field about three o’clock in the afternoon of March 1st. They marched on to Darrington and there turned aside to Carleton, forming finally in the Chequer Field, immediately in sight of the Castle, where they gave battle to the enemy at six o’clock in the evening, the beleaguered garrison anxiously watching the progress of the fight. In this engagement the Royalists were victorious on every side, and the Parliamentarians were driven from the town and lost many men and a great quantity of arms. Sir Marmaduke Langdale, having pursued them as far as Ferrybridge, returned to the Castle at eleven o’clock that night, and was received with such gratitude as you may well conceive would be shown by a garrison which was already beginning to experience the pangs of hunger.
So, as Ben Tuckett joyfully said, the siege was over, having lasted little more than eight weeks, and the victory rested with the loyal garrison. No light victory was it either, for the Parliamentarians had lost five hundred killed and over one thousand prisoners, while the besieged had lost but a hundred men. The Royalists were overjoyed at the success of their cause at Pontefract, and Ben Tuckett had some thoughts of putting on a cheerful countenance once more, but the gladness of both was considerably damped before many days were passed by the appearance of a great Parliamentary force, which gathered round the Castle and set itself to carry out a second siege.