The Castles of Athlin and Dunbayne | Page 6

where the rock
appeared most accessible, and which was contiguous to the principal
gate, and gave signal to the clan. They approached in silence, and
gently throwing down the bundles of faggot, which they had brought
for the purpose, into the ditch, made themselves a bridge over which
they passed in safety, and prepared to ascend the heights. It had been
resolved that a party, of which Alleyn was one, should scale the walls,
surprize the centinels, and open the gates to the rest of the clan, which,
with the Earl, were to remain without. Alleyn was the first who fixed
his ladder and mounted; he was instantly followed by the rest of his
party, and with much difficulty, and some hazard, they gained the
ramparts in safety. They traversed a part of the platform without
hearing the sound of a voice or a step; profound sleep seemed to bury
all. A number of the party approached some centinels who were asleep
on their post; them they seized; while Alleyn, with a few others, flew to
open the nearest gate, and to let down the draw-bridge. This they
accomplished; but in the mean time the signal of surprize was given,
and instantly the alarm bell rang out, and the castle resounded with the
clang of arms. All was tumult and confusion. The Earl, with part of his

people, entered the gate; the rest were following, when suddenly the
portcullis was dropped, the bridge drawn up, and the Earl and his
people found themselves surrounded by an armed multitude, which
poured in torrents from every recess of the castle. Surprized, but not
daunted, the Earl rushed forward sword in hand, and fought with a
desperate valour. The soul of Alleyn seemed to acquire new vigour
from the conflict; he fought like a man panting for honour, and certain
of victory; wherever he rushed, conquest flew before him. He, with the
Earl, forced his way into the inner courts, in search of the Baron, and
hoped to have satisfied a just revenge, and to have concluded the
conflict with the death of the murderer; but the moment in which they
entered the courts, the gates were closed upon them; they were
environed by a band of guards; and, after a short resistance, in which
Alleyn received a slight wound, they were seized as prisoners of war.
The slaughter without was great and dreadful: the people of the Baron
inspired with fury, were insatiate for death: many of the Earl's
followers were killed in the courts and on the platform; many, in
attempting to escape, were thrown from the ramparts, and many were
destroyed by the sudden raising of the bridge. A small part, only of the
brave and adventurous band who had engaged in the cause of justice,
and who were driven back from the walls, survived to carry the
dreadful tidings to the Countess. The fate of the Earl remained
unknown. The consternation among the friends of the slain is not to be
described, and it was heightened by the unaccountable manner in which
the victory had been obtained; for it was well known that Malcolm had
never, but when war made it necessary, more soldiers in his garrison
than feudal pomp demanded; yet on this occasion, a number of armed
men rushed from the recesses of his castle, sufficient to overpower the
force of a whole clan. But they knew not the secret means of
intelligence which the Baron possessed; the jealousy of conscience had
armed him with apprehension for his safety; and for some years he had
planted spies near the castle of Athlin, to observe all that passed within
it, and to give him immediate intelligence of every war-like preparation.
A transaction so striking, and so public as that which had occurred on
the day of the festival, when the whole people swore to avenge the
murder of their Chief, it was not probable would escape the valiant eye
of his mercenaries: the circumstance had been communicated to him

with all the exaggerations of fear and wonder, and had given him the
signal for defence. The accounts sent him of the military preparations
which were forming, convinced him that this defence would soon be
called for; and, laughing at the idle tales which were told him of distant
wars, he hastened to store his garrison with arms and with men, and
held himself in readiness to receive the assailants. The Baron had
conducted his plans with all that power of contrivance which the
secrecy of the business demanded; and it was his design to suffer the
enemy to mount his walls, and to put them to the sword, when the
purpose of this deep-laid stratagem had been nearly defeated by the
drowsiness of the centinels who were posted to give