Six of the cannon were loaded with chain-shot and bars of iron, but happily did little mischief. They then tried their muskets for more than half an hour together, but with no better success. Not a single man on the walls was hit, nor could they provoke a reply.
Later on, they made another experiment with the great mortar, and this time a grenado was thrown at the mansion. It fell in a small court at the back of the chapel where it exploded, and with such violence that it shook down the walls near it. Again no one was injured, but infinite alarm was caused by the concussion.
The engineers feared that some new fireballs would next be tried, and men provided with wet hides stood ready to extinguish these combustibles if they fell near the mansion. Luckily the services of these assistants were not required. Only a second stone shot was launched against the stronghold, and did no harm.
But the mortar had now become a terrible engine, and frightened the brave men, who had hitherto derided all the attempts of the enemy.
The greater part of the mansion was built of oak, and though shot proof, it might be set on fire. This seemed now to be the aim of the enemy, and the possibility of such an occurrence filled the whole garrison with alarm. The staunchest musketeer turned pale when speaking of shells and grenadoes, and many of them asked permission to quit their lodgings in the upper part of the walls.
To shame them from their fears the officers removed to these rooms, but nothing could overcome the dread caused by the mortar, and when next day another grenado fell in the midst of the musketeers it scattered them like so many sheep.
Familiarity, however, with the danger gave them courage, and when they found that grenadoes were not so dangerous as they imagined—no one as yet having been hurt—they began to laugh at them—especially when a couple that were badly aimed, flew over the house.
Just at this time an incident occurred which, although it did not for a moment shake the fortitude of the countess, caused her great annoyance.
Despite all the firing and the danger to which she was exposed, she had mounted daily—sometimes more than once—to the summit of the Eagle Tower.
One day she was at her post, and surrounded by her usual attendants, when Major Farrington showed her that the engineers in a battery beneath were pointing a culverin against the tower on which she stood. The countess looked on undismayed, and smiled as the shot flew harmlessly past. Shortly afterwards a demi-cannon was fired from an adjacent battery, its mark being evidently the same as the culverin. Shot after shot from both pieces of ordnance followed at short intervals, but the tower remained untouched.
“I would counsel your ladyship to descend,” said Major Farrington, who had watched this display with anxiety. “Those cannoniers have evidently got orders to demolish this tower, and they will not desist from the attempt, unless we stop them. Shall I direct our engineers to fire upon them? They will not do so without orders.”
“Have we sufficient powder?” inquired the countess, in a low voice.
“Enough for this purpose,” he replied. “Not more.”
“Then let the enemy fire on,” said the brave lady. “We must reserve our scanty stock for a more important occasion.”
“I am certain Rigby is in the nearest battery with the culverin,” said Major Farrington. “I can see him now.”
“Say you so?” said the countess, almost fiercely. “Then, by Heaven, he shall not insult me thus. Give instant orders to return the fire. At any hazard we will silence them.”
“I am right glad your ladyship has so resolved,” said Major Farrington, as he departed on the errand.
Not till she had enjoyed the gratification of seeing the demi-cannon dismounted by her own engineers did the countess quit her post.
She then descended to the court, feeling perfectly satisfied with the answer she had given to Rigby’s insolent challenge.
But her triumph was of short duration. While she was talking to Major Farrington, who had come to meet her, a shot from the culverin struck an angle in the Eagle Tower, making a large breach in the wall, and demolishing part of the staircase.