No extra precaution seemed to be taken by the jailers, except that the entrance to the Hall Tower from the inner ward was fastened, but this mattered little, since the fugitive proposed to descend from the window looking towards the outer ward.
No sooner had the jailer paid his last visit for the night than the earl removed the bars from the window, tied a couple of sheets together and fastened them, and then listened intently for the sound of the sentinel’s footsteps, who was pacing to and fro beneath.
So dark was it that Lord Wintoun could not see the man, but he could hear him, and when he judged by the sound that the sentinel was at the greatest distance, he let himself down as quickly and noiselessly as he could.
A sound reached the man’s ear, for he suddenly halted, and called out, “Who goes there?”
But receiving no answer, and hearing no further noise, he did not think it needful to give the alarm.
Meanwhile, the Earl of Wintoun, who had remained perfectly quiet at this critical juncture, now stole to the further side of the ward, and crept along the edge of the wall till he got within a short distance of the Gate Tower.
Here fortune favoured him.
At the very moment of his arrival, a warder who had just come from the guard-room was opening the wicket to let out some half-dozen persons.
Without hesitation, the earl mixed with the party, and though a link was brought, he escaped without attracting the warder’s attention.
But another portal had still to be passed at the opposite side of the bridge, and as Lord Wintoun was marching towards it with his companions, he felt his arm grasped, while a voice whispered in his ear:
“You are one of the rebel lords. Your life is worth a thousand pounds. I must have that sum, or I will prevent your escape.”
“You shall have the money,” replied the earl, in the same tone.
“Enough,” said the man. “I know you will fulfil your promise. Take that letter. It will tell you who I am.”
But for this timely aid the earl might have been stopped by the guard at the Middle Tower.
However, he soon got clear of the fortress, and passing through the Bulwark Gate, plunged into the fog that enveloped Tower Hill.
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V
General Forster’s Escape from Newgate
A VERY jovial time the prisoners in Newgate had of it.
Supplied with plenty of money by their friends, they could obtain whatever they wanted; and better wine and better punch were drunk in Newgate than at any tavern in town.
The prison, indeed, resembled nothing so much as a large inn, where the numerous guests were feasting and carousing from morning till night.
The majority of the prisoners persuaded themselves that in consequence of their surrender they should be very leniently treated, but come what might, they resolved to make the most of the present moment.
Ordinarily a sort of barrack, called the King’s Bench Ward, was occupied by debtors, but in consequence of the excessively crowded state of the jail, this large chamber, which was partitioned off for beds, served as a dormitory for a portion of the rebels, while they dined, supped, drank punch, smoked pipes, played cards, dice, and draughts, in the Debtor’s Hall.
Driven from their quarters, the luckless debtors took refuge on the felons’ side or in the cellar.
Private bed-chambers, and small private apartments, for which enormous fees were demanded by the governor, Mr. Pitts, were provided for some of the insurgent leaders.
The best bedroom in the prison, which had formerly been occupied by Lord Russell and Count Koningsmark, and more recently by Count Guiscard, was let to General Forster. Charles Radclyffe, and Colonel Oxburgh, were each furnished with a good room, but Brigadier Mackintosh did not care how he was accommodated.
The chief officers had their own mess-table, at which they were very well served, and friends constantly dined with them. The prison, indeed, was as full of visitors as inmates, and the prisoners were just as cheerful as their guests.
A great deal of sympathy was felt for the unfortunate Jacobite gentlemen by the fair sex, who flocked to Newgate to express it.