The Lady of Blossholme eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 350 pages of information about The Lady of Blossholme.

“Clement Maldon, Abbot of Blossholme.”



A week had gone by.  For the first three days of that time little of note had happened at Cranwell Towers; that is, no assault was delivered.  Only Christopher and his dozen or so of house-servants and small tenants discovered that they were quite surrounded.  Once or twice some of them rode out a little way, to be hunted back again by a much superior force, which emerged from the copses near by or from cottages in the village, and even from the porch of the church.  With these men they never came to close quarters, so that no lives were lost.  In a fashion this was a disadvantage to them, since they lacked the excitement of actual fighting, the dread of which was ever present, but not its joy.

Meanwhile in other ways things went ill with them.  Thus, first of all their beer gave out, and then such other cordials as they had, so that they were reduced to water to drink.  Next their fuel became exhausted, for nearly all the stock of it was kept at the farmstead about a quarter of a mile away, and on the second day of the siege this stead was fired and burned with its contents, the cattle and horses being driven off, they knew not where.

So it came about at length they could keep only one fire, in the kitchen, and that but small, which in the end they were obliged to feed with the doors of the outhouses, and even with the floorings torn out of the attics, in order that they might cook their food.  Nor was there much of this; only a store of salt meat and some pickled pork and smoked bacon, together with a certain amount of oatmeal and flour, that they made into cakes and bread.

On the fourth day, however, these gave out, so that they were reduced to a scanty diet of hung flesh, with a few apples by way of vegetables, and hot water to drink to warm them.  At length, too, there was nothing more to burn, and therefore they must eat their meat raw, and grew sick on it.  Moreover, a cold thaw set in, and the house grew icy, so that they moved about it with chattering teeth, and at night, ill-nurtured as they were, could scarce keep the life in them beneath all the coverings which they had.

Ah! how long were those nights, with never a blaze upon the hearth or so much as a candle to light them.  At four o’clock the darkness came down, which did not lessen, for the moon grew low and the mists were thick, until day broke about seven on the following morning.  And all this time, fearing attack, they must keep watch and ward through the gloom, so that even sleep was denied them.

For a while they bore up bravely, even the tenants, though news was shouted to these that their steads had been harried, and their wives and children hunted off to seek shelter where they might.

Cicely and Emlyn never murmured.  Indeed, this new-made wife kept her dreadful honeymoon with a cheerful face, trudging through the black hours around the circle of the moat at her husband’s side, or from window-place to window-place in the empty rooms, till at length they cast themselves down upon some bed to sleep a while, giving over the watch to others.  Only Emlyn never seemed to sleep.  But at length their companions did begin to murmur.

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The Lady of Blossholme from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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