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 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 AT LOS ANGELES
 
 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 •' BRAMBI.KTYE HOUSE," "GAIETIES AND GRAVITIES,'"' 
 
 &C. &C. 
 
 " Oh! what was lovo maile for, if 'tis not the same 
 Thro' joy and thro' tormc nt<, thro' glory and shame ? 
 I know not, I ask nut, if guilt 's in that heart ; 
 1 but know that 1 Iovb ihef, whatpvfr thou art!"' 
 
 Thoa. Moore. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 » » ' 
 
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 ' • '.•.•, . •. ' • ' ••.,'•.« •" •. 
 
 '.• ••.'.••' .... .f", ' • c' 
 
 LONDON: '*' 
 
 HENRV COLBURN, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 
 
 1826.
 
 LONDON 
 PRINTED BY S. AND R. BENTLEY, DORSKT STREET.
 
 
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 V, 
 
 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 . CHAPTER I. 
 
 Pugnacious, stern, arm'd cap-a-pie, 
 The paragon of chivalry, 
 ^ His spirit dances 
 
 ^ To hear the trumpet's battling sound, 
 
 c And bid his steel-clad charger bound 
 
 Amid the lances. 
 
 The strenuous idleness which sometimes 
 persuades a man that by vigorous exertion of 
 the body he can dissipate the Hstlessness and 
 discontent of the mind, had induced Sir Giles 
 Hungerford of the Tor to call up his nephew, 
 Poyns Dudley, who had for some time past 
 
 rOL. 1. B 
 
 157411
 
 9 THE TOE HILL. 
 
 acted as his squire, and to desire him to ac- 
 company him in a morning's walk. When the 
 latter heard the tolhng of the matin bells, and 
 saw by a glance at the window that every ■ 
 object -without was enshrouded in a thick and 
 drizzling fog, he could not avoid shrugging his 
 shoulders ; but, as he knew that it was some- 
 what perilous to reason with the orders of so 
 stern a disciplinarian as his uncle, he threw a 
 cloak of Kirkby Kendal over his back, and pre- 
 pared to obey in silence. Forth they accord- 
 ingly issued into the streets of Calais, and 
 the sound of their footsteps reaching the guard 
 at the Lantern Gate ere their forms could be 
 recognized, they were roughly challenged as 
 they approached. Wrapped in his own me- 
 ditations. Sir Giles noticed not the voices of the 
 sentinels, or else disdained reply, for which per- 
 haps he might have been rewarded with a shot 
 from a cross-bow, had not his companion ex- 
 claimed — " Stand aside, soldiers, for the go- 
 vernor !" At these words the guard fell back 
 on either side, respectfully saluting him as he 
 passed beneath the gate, whose vaulted arch
 
 THE TOE HILl. 3 
 
 echoed to the clang of his massy boots. As he 
 proceeded towards the harbour, in his progress 
 to the pier, the density of the atmosphere in- 
 creased to such a degree, that he mistook his 
 way, and unexpectedly found himself up to his 
 knees in the salt water. Knowing that op- 
 position and difficulty of any sort did but in- 
 crease the obstinacy of bis purposes, Dudley 
 fully expected to see hira wade forward, and 
 endeavour to accomplish his design by swim- 
 ming, in spite of his heavy boots, and the loose 
 mantle which he had wound round his arms ; 
 but the knight fortunately resolved to conquer 
 the fog instead of the sea, and, turning about 
 v/ithout uttering a syllable, renewed his en- 
 deavours at groping out the- passage to the 
 pier. 
 
 Previously to this little incident, he had been 
 perfectly indifferent as to which way he should 
 walk ; but, now' that an attempt had been made 
 to thwart his original design, he would have 
 perilled his life ten times over, upon its final 
 accomplishment. Of a restless and fiery tem- 
 perament, whose native element seemed to be 
 
 b2
 
 3) THE TOR HILL. 
 
 amid the shivering of spears, the clashing of 
 swords, and all the uproar and turmoil of war, 
 he hated the honourable post that had been as- 
 signed to him as Governor of the Lantern Gate 
 of Calais, because it was deemed inconsistent 
 with his dignity that he should join those fre- 
 quent expeditions into the French pale, even 
 up to the walls of Boulogne, which, however 
 predatory in their object, were of so hazardous 
 a nature as seldom to be unaccompanied by 
 some of those adventures, ambushes, and sur- 
 prises, which are peculiarly stimulating to a 
 warlike and chivalrous mind. Even a state of 
 peace, the rough tilts and tournaments of which 
 afforded some compensation for the pleasures 
 of real hostilities, and allowed him at all events 
 to make war upon the beasts of the field, and 
 revel in his own halls, was held infinitely pre- 
 ferable to his present existence, in which he 
 was daily tantalized with the prospect of en- 
 terprises, marching out against the foe with 
 banner and trumpet, while he himself was con- 
 demned to remain ingloriously within the walls 
 of Calais. To a mind like his, thus fretting
 
 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 and corroding with inaction, opposition of any 
 description operated as a grateful stimulus; and 
 as, in the absence of a more worthy antagonist, 
 there was some little satisfaction, even in foiling 
 tlie fog, he pursued his way to the pier, with as 
 dogged a resolution as if he were preparing 
 to run a tilt against an adversary in the bar- 
 riers, or pressing forward to intercept a retreat- 
 ing foe. 
 
 Not without difficulty did he at last succeed ; 
 and we trust it will not be deemed derogatory 
 to his knightly dignity, considering the morbid 
 state of his mind, when we record that even this 
 petty triumph was enjoyed with a satisfaction 
 altogether disproportionate to the achievement. 
 With an erect figure, a firm footstep, and a 
 brisk pace, as if exulting in his victory, did Sir 
 Giles stalk along the wooden way, keeping, 
 however, close to the rampart, lest, in the den- 
 sity of the air, he might, by a single false foot- 
 step, enable the sea to triumph over the con- 
 queror of the fog. So humiliating was the 
 thought of such an ignoble conclusion to his 
 expedition, that when, by his own calculation of
 
 b THE TOU HILL. 
 
 f 
 
 the distance, he considered himself to be pretty 
 near the extremity of the pier, he seized the 
 excuse of a bench for terminating his walk, and 
 seated himself upon it ; while his squire leaned » 
 over the parapet at his side, endeavouring to 
 get a glimpse of the water beneath, since the 
 whole town was completely shrouded from his 
 view. 
 
 Invisible however as it v/as, there were vari- 
 ous sounds that sufficiently attested the imme- 
 diate vicinity of a populous city. The matin 
 bells of the different churches and convents had 
 not yet entirely ceased tolling ; the voices of sol- 
 diers calling to their companions, whom the fog 
 prevented them from seeing ; the shrill noise of 
 the muster-trumpet, the cheers of a party of 
 sailors in the harbour heaving a fishing vessel 
 down the beach, and the harsh grating of its 
 keel over the stones, were mingled with the 
 calm guggling and poppling of the 'waves as 
 they were parted by the piles, and floated on- 
 wards beneath the pier upon wliich Sir Giles 
 was seated. Though there was nothing very 
 harmonious in this combination of sounds, it
 
 THE TOR HILL. 7 
 
 seemed to have a soothing effect upon his mind, 
 for he sat for some time receiving them into his 
 ear rather than hstening to them, and musing 
 rather than thinking, in a species of complacent 
 abstraction, when a sentinel stationed at the 
 extremity of the pier began to cheer his ima- 
 ginary solitude — for the fog completely hid his 
 neighbours — by striking up in a hoarse voice 
 the first verse of a new ballad, which v/as at 
 that time very popular among the military ad- 
 venturers to France. 
 
 " The Rose will into France spring. 
 Almighty God him thither bring. 
 And save this Flower which is our King, 
 This Rose, this Rose, this royal Rose, 
 Which is called a noble thing. 
 The Flower of England, and Soldier King." 
 
 Either vexed at being thus aroused from a 
 inore placid mood than he had recently been 
 in tlie habit of enjoying, or indignant at the 
 seeming disrespect of the soldier in presuming 
 to sing before his commander, although the 
 man was utterly unconscious of being within 
 -ear-shot of so august a personage, Sir Giles 
 called out, in a stern voice — " Hollo, sirrah sen-
 
 8 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 tiiiel ! is this the silence vou are commanded to 
 observe upon duty ? 'Ware the gauntlope and 
 the little-ease, thou noisy brawler {" The 
 poor fellow, who probably recognized the voice 
 of the governor of the gate thus coming upon 
 him as if it were from the clouds, was appa- 
 rently not a little astounded at the circum- 
 stance, for he instantly ceased his song — nothing 
 but his footsteps being now heard as he paced 
 up and down upon his post with increased dili- 
 gence and energy. 
 
 By this time the sun, which had been slowly 
 wading upwards through the sea-mist, had 
 attained power enough to shoot his first ray 
 upon the top of the watch-tower of Calais, 
 where the guard of bill-men were seen moving 
 backwards and forwards, their arms glancing 
 in the light, and the alarum-bell, as well as the 
 curtail, or short piece of ordnance, which they 
 were to discharge upon discovery of an enemy, 
 becoming now distinctly visible ; while the 
 moistened banner, that surrounded the whole, 
 hung in the calm air, clinging to the flag-staff. 
 The churches of St. Nicholas and Notre Dame
 
 THE TOR HILL. U 
 
 next emerged to sight, and other of the loftier 
 buildings gradually and slowly developed them- 
 selves, while the rest of the town still remained 
 wrapped in a hovering cloud of fog, which 
 seemed loth to abandon the possession it had 
 obtained of the dwelling-houses, until a sudden 
 and smart breeze, setting in from the sea, rolled 
 it up like a curtain, and revealed the whole 
 cheerful town of Calais glittering in the sun, 
 and standintj out in brig-ht relief against the 
 blue sky. Sir Giles had gazed upon it for some 
 time without speaking, when his attention being 
 attracted by a flapping sound behind him, he 
 looked round, and beheld the new flag, which 
 had been planted at the extremity of the pier, 
 unfurling itself at full length upon the wind, 
 and disclosing the words " Henricus VIII.'''' 
 which were embroidered upon it in large let- 
 ters of gold. " Dudley," said tlie knight, 
 after he had attentively examined the anns 
 above this inscription, " I am no herald, no 
 blazoner of bearings; I know that tlie king''s 
 standard gives a red dragon ; I know the 
 quarterings and the cognizance of the Hun- 
 
 B 5
 
 10 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 gerfords, and that our present shield was as- 
 sumed when one of my ancestors took prisoner 
 the Duke of Orleans, and built Farleigh Castle 
 with his ransom-money ; but, as my heraldic 
 skill carries me no further, I would fain 
 know the meaning of yonder bearing in the 
 royal arms, which methinks they were not 
 wont to give." 
 
 " The red rose, Sir," replied Dudley, " is 
 the favourite symbol of our royal master ; it 
 was worn by the Emperor Maximilian, as his 
 volunteer soldier, at the siege of Teroucnne, 
 and it is here united with the white, to 
 prove " 
 
 " Tut, boy !" interrupted the knight tartly. 
 " Though no clerk in such matters, I am not 
 quite a dotterel. Had I not learnt as much 
 from the ballad of yonder hoarse knave, there 
 is scarce a butterwife in England but could 
 have taught me this gossip's lore." 
 
 " If you mean the device of the portcullis," 
 resumed Dudley, "it imports the descent of 
 his grace from the House of Lancaster, that 
 bearing having been originally assumed by
 
 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 11 
 
 John of Gaunt, when his concubine, Catharine 
 Swinford " 
 
 " Psha ! youngster,"" again interposed Sir 
 Giles, with increased petulance, — " you are 
 still wide of the mark^ so prythee spare your 
 speech. Have I not seen enough of this badge 
 in the late king's chapel at Westminster, to 
 know its import ?'^ 
 
 " Perhaps, then, you mean the bearing of the 
 falcon in the fetter-lock." 
 
 As the knight nodded his head in silence, 
 the squire continued : — " This is doubtless given 
 to prove his highnesses descent from lx)th 
 houses, as it was the cognizance of Edmund of 
 Langley, Duke of York. May I venture to 
 inquire. Sir Giles, why it seems so particularly 
 to arrest your attention .''" 
 
 " Because it is an emblem of my own fate," 
 replied the knight with some fierceness. " What 
 am I, chained down and imprisoned in this ac- 
 cursed gate of Calais, when I would fain be 
 tilting at full gallop to dash my spear into the 
 throats of the king's enemies, — what am I, 
 condemned to sit still when the trumpet sounds
 
 1^ THE TOR HILL. 
 
 to Stirrup and standard, while the blood boils 
 in my veins, and my very sword is ready to 
 leap from its scabbard as I lay my hand upon 
 its hilt, — what am I, I say, but a falcon in the 
 fetter-locks ?'' 
 
 " Your present inactivity,"" said the squire, 
 " is but the honourable penance imposed upon 
 you for your former exploits; for Sir Gilbert 
 Talbot, the king's deputy, knows too well the 
 value of the good town entrusted to him, to 
 send his best lance out of Calais upon such light 
 and freebooting expeditions as those that have 
 lately sallied from our gates. Charlemagne did 
 not draw his trusty sword Joyeuse, nor were 
 Morglay, Durindana, or Excalibar unsheathed 
 from their scabbards, unless when the dignity 
 of the enemy and the occasion warranted their 
 employment."" 
 
 " Buzz, boy ! tell not me, nor hope to wheedle 
 me with glosing flatteries as if thou wert talk- 
 ing to a popinjay. Little boots it the man-at- 
 arms to have a war-horse too precious to be 
 spurred among the spears ; and small need has 
 the king of knights and lances whom he fears to
 
 THE TOR HILL. 13 
 
 expose to the push of a Frenchman''s sword. I 
 tell thee, Poyns, it is no one who has set the 
 falcon in the fetter-locks but Sir Gilbert Tal- 
 bot : it is the paltry jealousy of the king's 
 deputy that makes my sword rust within its 
 scabbard ; and if I had but a fair excuse for 
 aiming it at his bosom, and washing it in his 
 
 blood " 
 
 " Not so loud, Sir, I beseech you," cried the 
 squire : " see you not that yonder sentinel has 
 grounded his caliver, and, while he seems to be 
 busied with his flake and touch-box, is evidently 
 listening to our speech ?" 
 
 " Foul fall the croaking knave !"" exclaimed 
 the knight in a still louder key ; " is it meet 
 that Sir Giles Hungerford of the Tor, who 
 has broken a lance upon the king's skull-cap, 
 should fear to wag his tongue before one of his 
 own followers and vassals. Between me and 
 God, Dudley, it makes my heart weep blood to 
 think thaf I should be thus hooded and mewed 
 up, when my very soul pants to be flying at the 
 game."" 
 
 " Under favour. Sir Giles, I venture to say
 
 14 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 that his grace's deputy would prove himself 
 but a wild and thriftless falconer, were he to fly 
 his most trusty bird at the carrion crows. Let 
 but the pheasant or the crane spread wing with- 
 in the march, and I warrant me Sir Gilbert 
 Talbot knows where to find the soar-falcon, 
 without looking at his vervails, that will strike 
 them presently to the ground." 
 
 " Now, marry then," quoth Sir Giles, " God 
 speed the good day, and amen to the back of 
 the saying !" 
 
 Seeing soldiers advancing along the pier to 
 relieve the guard, the knight arose and stalked 
 towards the harbour with his usual stately step; 
 still, however, in so ungracious a mood, or 
 more probably so absorbed in his own contem- 
 plations, as not to notice the archers who salu- 
 ted him as he passed, or to utter a single sylla- 
 ble to his companion, until they reached tlie 
 beach of the inner haven, when they were star- 
 tled by the shrill sound of a trumpet, which 
 although it was blown from the interior of the 
 town, reverberated sharply from the walls, and 
 the lantern-gate that fronted them. Sir Giles's
 
 THE TOR HILL. 15 
 
 countenance became animated at the warlike 
 summons, and he threw up his head, and infla- 
 ted his nostrils, and looked fiercely around, as 
 if to ascertain its meaning. 
 
 " That is black 13oughton''s trumpet of the 
 adventurers,"" said Dudley ; " nobody else has 
 so strong a breath : he is blowing to horse and 
 harness, and a merry morning will they have 
 for a gallop into the French pale." 
 
 " The adventurers are not such a rude 
 rabblement, as I have sometimes heard them 
 termed," rephed the knight. " They are stir- 
 ring and dauntless doers, either by day or by 
 night, in an ambush or an open field ; and 
 though they have neither nobleman's badge 
 upon their shoulder, nor king's cognisance upon 
 their flag, they have wrought as sore damage to 
 the French as many a belted knight with his 
 trained archers and harnessed men-at-arms." 
 
 As they approached, they observed men run- 
 ning, in a hurried manner, towards the interior 
 of the town, and heard loud and confused cries 
 in the direction of the market-place ; when, upon 
 reaching the gate, the sergeant of the guard
 
 16 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 informed Sir Giles, that one of the adventurers 
 had just ridden into the market-place, grievous- 
 ly wounded ; and had declared to the populace, 
 that the whole of his companions having fallen 
 into an ambush, and surrendered themselves 
 prisoners of war, were no sooner disarmed than 
 they had been set upon, and barbarously mas- 
 sacred by the common people and peasantry ; 
 he himself having accidentally escaped, and 
 being the sole survivor of the expedition which 
 had marched out of Calais on the previous 
 morning. 
 
 " Murdered in cold blood, and after being 
 disarmed !" exclaimed Sir Giles, colouring with 
 fiery indignation, and instinctively grasping the 
 pummel of his sword—" This is a wild and im- 
 pi*obable tale ; some gossip''s invention altogether, 
 or the exaggeration of this craven runaway, 
 frightened at the sight of his own blood. Fetch 
 me the fellow, Dudley, to the guard-room, 
 that I may question him myself; for if his 
 tidings be sooth, beshrew me if the falcon will 
 not rather burst his fetter-locks and fly, than 
 be cooped within the mew till he eat his heart.'*
 
 THE TOR HILL. 17 
 
 The adventurers are described by a contem- 
 porary historian as " a certain number of wild 
 persons,^ as men out of service, and apprentices 
 that ran from their masters, and other idle 
 persons, who desired the lord admiral (who 
 also commanded the army) that they might be 
 retained in the king's wages : to whom he an- 
 swered, that the king had appointed the number 
 of such as should have wages, which was fully 
 complete ; and advised them to return into Eng- 
 land, and not to loiter in Calais. Then said 
 a tall yeoman — ' INIy lord, there be many good 
 fellows that with your favour would jeopard to 
 get or lose, for their mind is to be revenged on 
 the Frenchmen, enemies to tlie king and his 
 realm.' ' Good fellow,' said the lord admiral, 
 ' their minds be" good, but if, for lack of con- 
 duct, they should be cast aAvay, it were a loss 
 to the king, and a great courage to the French- 
 men.' Then all the company cried, ' Let us 
 go, in the name of God and Saint George !' 
 Then, after counsel taken, he gave them a pen- 
 non of Saint George, and bade them adventure, 
 (of which they were called adventurers,) and
 
 38 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 further bade them, that if they got any booty, 
 they should ever bring it to the army, and they 
 should be paid to the uttermost ; and then he 
 gave them money, and commanded them wea- 
 pons, and so the said adventurers, four hundred 
 in number and more, set forward before the 
 host." 
 
 Although it is evident, from the above 
 description, that these desperadoes were little 
 better than robbers, reevers, and freebooters, 
 the adventurers had signalized themselves by 
 several most daring and successful exploits; 
 scouring the enemy's country, even up to the 
 walls of their fortified towns, and not seldom 
 enriching themselves while they were acting as 
 foragers or reconnoitering parties for the king's 
 army. According to the barbarous principles 
 upon which war was then conducted, the pri- 
 soners taken in battle were sold as slaves, if 
 they were too poor to ransom themselves ; and 
 although avarice was thus added to the ordi- 
 nary incentives to hostility, it is probable that 
 it rather mitigated than increased the evils of 
 warfare, by occasioning many captives to be
 
 THE TOR HILL, 19 
 
 spared in the hope of ransom, whose lives would 
 otherwise have been sacrificed to the angry 
 passions of the moment. 
 
 On the morning previous to that on which 
 our history commences, Captain Brearton, one of 
 the leaders of the adventurers, calling together 
 his own company, reminded them that as they 
 had no wages from the king, they were only 
 supported by the plunder or ransom of his 
 enemies ; and, as they had ever had good chance 
 in all their enterprises, proposed that they 
 should boldly sally forth by themselves to see 
 what God would send them, which he doubted 
 not would be sufficient to supply them with 
 merrymaking and good cheer for some months 
 to come. To this daring enterprise his little 
 band, as stout and hardy men as ever served 
 prince or captain, cheerfully yielded their assent, 
 and forth they accordingly sallied, crossing the 
 marshes, entering the French pale, and pressing 
 forward, without halt, till they came to the vil- 
 lage of Ouaste, where they took a large and 
 valuable booty of cattle that had been collected 
 for the supply of Boulogne. The villagers
 
 20 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 were too much accustomed to the incursions of 
 these active desperadoes, to think of offering 
 resistance, or to be unprovided with the means 
 of raising an alarm. The hue-and-cry was 
 soon spread, and two hundred horsemen of the 
 garrison of Boulogne, who were coming forward 
 to protect the convoy of cattle, galloping up to 
 the sound with great cries, presently environed 
 tlie little band of Englislimen, so that they 
 could neither escape to their own pale, nor fight 
 against such superior numbers and a mounted 
 enemy, Avith the smallest probability of success. 
 Seeing the futility of resistance, Captain Brear- 
 ton called out to the captain of the Frenchmen : 
 — " Sir, I am a gentleman, and this enterprise 
 is mine. I have brought these good fellows 
 into this jeopardy, wherefore I demand quarter 
 for them, and we yield us all your prisoners." 
 
 The French captain received the proposition 
 Avith great courtesy, desiring his troop to dis- 
 mount and disarm their prisoners. While they 
 were thus occupied, the peasants and churls of 
 the country, but mostly from the village of 
 Ouaste, gathered round them in considerable
 
 THE TOR HILL. 21 
 
 numbers, offering to buy the Englishmen that 
 were taken, who, as soon as the bargain was 
 concluded, were accordingly delivered to them, 
 and the men of war rode away. No sooner, 
 however, were they over the hills and out of 
 sigftt, than the villeins, as the country people 
 were then indiscriminately called, and who in 
 the present instance abundantly justified the 
 application of the word in its worst modern 
 acceptation, fell upon the defenceless English- 
 men with pikes, javelins and knives, " and cut 
 them in pieces," says the historian, " the most 
 shamefully that ever was seen :" — an enormity 
 to which they were probably impelled in order 
 to revenge the losses they had sustained from 
 the incessant attacks of these marauders ; or 
 perhaps, from arguing that as they were not 
 recognized soldiers, they were no more entitled 
 to the customary forbearances of war than 
 pirates and highway robbers. 
 
 Although grievously wounded, one of the 
 unfortunate adventurers had contrived to escape 
 in the midst of the affray, and conceal himself 
 in some bushes, where he lay perdu till night-
 
 22 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 fall, and then finding his way to Calais, had 
 entered it on the following morning, and re- 
 lating to the assembled populace of the market- 
 place the tragical fate of his companions, had 
 occasioned the clamour and disturbance, and the 
 sounding to harness of Black Boughton's ti'bm- 
 pet, which we have already described. This 
 solitary survivor of the v^hole party, that had 
 sallied forth on the preceding morning with 
 such confidence of success, was conducted by 
 Poyns Dudley, agreeably to the orders he had 
 received, to the guard-house, the infuriated 
 mob following tumultuously at his heels, the 
 women compassionately crying out for a sur- 
 geon to dress his wounds, and the men with 
 deep curses vowing vengeance against the vil- 
 leins who had inflicted them. In this manner 
 he was conducted into the presence of Sir Giles, 
 his grisly appearance sufficiently attesting the 
 veracity of his statement. The ghastliness oc- 
 casioned by his loss of blood, by the horror of 
 the scene he had witnessed, and by the suf- 
 ferings and terror of a sleepless night, was 
 rendered more conspicuously appalling by the
 
 THE TOJl HILL. 23 
 
 gore, v/ith which the greater part of his figure 
 was deeply dyed, and which contrasted hide- 
 ously with his wan and haggard countenance. 
 While under tlie hands of the surgeon of the 
 troops, he related the particulars of the mas- 
 sacfe exactly as they had occurred ; nor would 
 it, indeed, have been easy to exaggerate the 
 atrocity of the occurrence, had he been disposed 
 to outstrip the limits of truth. Even while he 
 was speaking, full confirmation of his statement 
 was brought by some of the scouts and spies 
 who were always retained within the French 
 pale, and who had actually seen and counted 
 the dead bodies of the victims. 
 
 Sympathizing with the fiery valour and en» 
 terprising spirit of the adventurers, so conge- 
 nial with his own character, Sir Giles had always 
 defended them against the animadversions of 
 his brother-knights and captains, some of whom 
 had been disposed to doubt the propriety of 
 their employment, though all admitted the bra- 
 very of their exploits. He was proportionabiy 
 exasperated at the cowardly and cruel vengeance 
 exercised by the peasants, and during the above-
 
 24 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 mentioned recital, had paced furiously up and 
 down the chamber, fuming with wrath, puffing 
 out his cheeks, grasping his beard with his right 
 hand, and grinding his teeth in an agony of 
 raare. No sooner had the wounded man com- 
 pleted his story, than he drew his sword, and 
 kissing its hilt, fervently exclaimed — " Now by 
 heaven and my holidame, and by the cross of 
 my sword that belongeth unto knighthood, I 
 swear that the blood of these brave men shall 
 not redden the grass, and smoke up to heaven 
 without an avenger. Give me my harness, 
 Dudley, and let Roan Runnymede be saddled ; 
 and if the remaining band of the adventurers 
 are for vengeance and the enemy's pale, and will 
 accept Sir Giles Hungerford of the Tor for the 
 captain of the day, I solemnly vow to leave my 
 bones on the soil of France, or to wreak a terri- 
 ble doom upon the doers of this foul shame to 
 manhood." 
 
 " Were it not well. Sir," inquired Dudley — 
 who, though by no means deficient in a generous 
 ardour, possessed much more discretion than his 
 impetuous and inflammable uncle — " were it not
 
 THE TOR HILL. 25 
 
 well, Sir, to have the sanction of Sir Gilbert 
 Talbot to your enterprise ?" 
 
 " You may ask it, boy, an' you like it, but I 
 have sworn an oath, and neither deputy nor 
 master, neither king nor kaiser, shall keep me 
 within the walls of Calais, if the surviving ad- 
 venturers sally forth to-day, and bid me to their 
 quarrel. Wherefore I say once more, bring me 
 my black armour of Almayne rivet, for there 
 shall be shrill whistling of arrow, and shrewd 
 blow of battle-axe, and lusty push of pike, and 
 perilous clashing of swords or ere these brave 
 men come back unaveng-ed."" 
 
 Dudley knew the knight too well to attempt 
 any resistance to his resolves, especially in so 
 chafing a mood, and accordingly bowed and 
 retired as if in acquiescence to his commands ; 
 but, instead of obeying them immediately, he 
 hurried with all diligence to Sir Gilbert Tal- 
 bot's quarters to solicit his consent to the enter- 
 prise. That commander, as Dudley had cor- 
 rectly stated to his uncle, had never been actu- 
 ated by jealousy in giving a denial to previous 
 apphcations of the same sort, but had been 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 26 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 solely anxious to preserve the services of so 
 approved a lance as Sir Giles, for occasions of 
 more pith and moment than any that had re- 
 cently occurred. " By the mass, Master Dud- 
 ley," he exclaimed to the squire, when he had 
 stated the purport of his visit—" it likes me not 
 that so trustworthy a knight as your uncle 
 should peril himself in the quarrel of these wild 
 rufflers and skyr-galliards, and jeopard heavy 
 loss to the King's service for the gain of such 
 swash-bucklers as these be. In the field he is as 
 buxom and brave a soldier as ever spurred to the 
 charge, but within stone walls he is ever will- 
 some and upon the fret; as if there were no 
 breathing but amid the spears. I know not 
 which is the greater marvel, that being so rest- 
 less a Hotspur he should ever have lived to be 
 fifty, or that being fifty he should still continue 
 so restless a Hotspur."" 
 
 " But my uncle, Sir, has sworn a deep oath 
 to lead forth the adventurers this morning, and 
 has kissed the cross of his sword upon it ; and as 
 you are yourself a true knight and an ornament 
 to chivalry, I beseech you force him not to prove
 
 THE TOR HILL. 27 
 
 a recreant to his vow. For himself I can safely 
 avouch that he would rather see the spurs strick- 
 en from his heels than be letted of his present 
 purpose." 
 
 " Let him forth then, o' God's name, and 
 lucky man be his dole ! But follow him close, 
 good Dudley, like a watchful squire as thou art ; 
 and take with thee fifty spears of the Lantern 
 guard : for spite of their swaggering and cracking, 
 I grudge to trust him to these Tom o' Bedlam 
 adventurers." 
 
 With hasty thanks for this compliance, how- 
 ever unwillingly granted, Dudley hurried back 
 to the gate, which he found surrounded by a 
 tumultuous assemblage of the adventurers, v/av- 
 ing their pennon of St. George, and shouting 
 with eager cries " Hungerford ! Hungerford !*" 
 The loud and angry tone in which Sir Giles 
 had signified his intention of leading them to ven- 
 geance, having occasioned his vow to be quickly 
 bruited abroad, they had flocked from all sides 
 to his quarters, not a little proud of having 
 obtained so distinguished a commander, and 
 signifying by their shouts their glad acceptance 
 
 c 2
 
 28 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 of his offer. Even the statement of the mis- 
 sion upon which he had been employed, and 
 the success with which it had been attended, 
 liardly succeeded in obtaining the squire"'s par- 
 don for havmg so long delayed executing the 
 orders he had first received from his wrathful 
 and impetuous uncle. He took good care to 
 add the condition upon which Sir Gilbert Tal- 
 bot had yielded his consent, and having com- 
 missioned a friend of his own to select fifty 
 able horsemen to accompany them, he gave 
 orders for the saddling and arming of Roan 
 Runnymcde, and proceeded forthwith to assist 
 in the equipment of his uncle. Upon this oc- 
 casion it pleased the knight, who had several 
 suits of steel and iron, to wear one of black 
 Almayne rivet, which, as its name declared, had 
 been manufactured abroad ; but being rather 
 a connoisseur in harness, as armour was then 
 called, he had procured a helmet to be made 
 upon an improved principle of his own, the 
 two beavers and the vizor being united after 
 a new fashion ; and to this scull-cap of sure 
 proof he confidently committed the guardian-
 
 THE TOR HILL. 29 
 
 ship of his head. After the completion of this 
 service, Dudley hastily trapped himself for the 
 field, the fifty horsemen were already ranged 
 in the street, the officers of the adventurers 
 had mustered and ranked their men in good 
 order, and the procession presently commenced 
 its march through the town, to pass out at the 
 Boulogne gate. 
 
 The knight, whose whole figure was cased in 
 iron, though his upraised beaver disclosed his 
 grim-looking face and beard ; his stately war- 
 horse, scarcely less carefully armed than his 
 master ; his handsome squire, glittering in 
 bright steel cuirass and cuisses ; and the fifty 
 well-appointed horsemen of the Lantern Guard, 
 who formed the advance of the party, offered 
 in the bravery of their equipment, a striking- 
 contrast to the adventurers that followed, whose 
 band consisted of twenty-five light horsemen 
 intended to act as scourers, and about two 
 hundred archers and pike-men. When Black 
 Boughton''s trumpet blew to harness, it pro- 
 duced very little literal obedience, for, in this 
 motley assemblage, few possessed more than
 
 so THE TOR HILL. 
 
 some disjointed portion of armour, while many 
 were totally unfurnished with any species of 
 defence. Their want of uniform, too, and the 
 various fashion of their war-gear, imparted to 
 theni a somewhat banditti-like appearance : but 
 on the other hand they marched in good order, 
 preceded by their pennon of Saint George, 
 and Black Boughton blowing a lusty blast upon 
 his trumpet. They were all tall and proper 
 men, their arms were in perfect plight for bat- 
 tle, and their lowering eyes, anger-inflamed 
 faces, and clenched teeth, showed that they 
 were desperate of purpose, that they wore their 
 armour within, and that their hearts were steel- 
 ed, although they did not beat against breast- 
 plate or cuirass. The mob of friends and 
 townspeople that followed them to the Boulogne 
 gate, gave them three cheers as they sallied 
 forth beneath the portal, and then running up 
 to the walls, continued for some time gazing 
 upon them as they passed over the outer draw- 
 bridges of the fortifications, and wound along 
 the dreary flats that bordered the sea in the 
 direction of Boulogne.
 
 THE TOR HILL. 31 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Summon'd to die, the hero must 
 Lay his plum'd hehnet in the dust, 
 
 Nor hope to tarry ; 
 For Death 's a stern antagonist. 
 Whose dart no armour can resist. 
 
 No prowess parry. 
 
 The tract of country over which the expe- 
 dition passed, both as it approached the fron- 
 tier, and after it had entered the French pale, 
 attested, by melancholy evidence, the frequency 
 of the inroads to which the inhabitants Avere 
 exposed from both nations, as well as the 
 unsparing and barbarous spirit of devastation 
 that marked their incursions. Ruined villages, 
 and the fire-blackened remains of towers and 
 churches, were frequently encountered; the 
 peasants who went out to till the ground inva-
 
 32 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 riably hung their arms upon the plough, and 
 planted scouts around them ; alarum-bells were 
 provided for every hamlet, beacons erected 
 upon every height ; and it might have afforded 
 a subject of wonder that people should be 
 found to cultivate a territory exposed to such 
 perpetual ravage, but that most of the inha- 
 bitants, like the Scottish borderers of the same 
 aera, were as often gainers as sufferers by this 
 predatory warfare. The near neighbourhood 
 of two such populous towns as Boulogne and 
 Calais occasioned a considerable traffic, and 
 as the necessity of supplying them with cattle 
 kept the intermediate pastures well stocked, 
 there was seldom any deficiency of plunder 
 when a marauding expedition was undertaken 
 by either party. Men as well as beasts were 
 considered good prey and honest rapine ; if 
 they were not ransomed, they might be sold 
 or used as slaves; and as tlie country people, 
 influenced by the hope of plunder, generally 
 joined the soldiery in these forays, and were, 
 in fact, little better than rustic freebooters, 
 with all the ferocity that such a mode of life
 
 THE TOR HILL. 33 
 
 must necessarily engender, they were scarcely 
 entitled to that commiseration which a super- 
 ficial observer might have been disposed to 
 bestow upon them. 
 
 Through this war-worn region did Sir Giles 
 Hungerford and his party of horsemen press 
 eagerly forward, leaving their foot at some 
 distance behind, in their anxiety to surprise 
 the doomed village of Ouaste. The hue and 
 cry, however, was as prompt as the invasion ^ 
 they saw the beacons blazing before them as 
 they advanced, while the wind came pealing 
 with the noise of the alarum-bells from villages 
 concealed in the hollows, or hidden behind 
 the hills. While thus speeding forwards, they 
 encountered a spectacle which inflamed the 
 passions of the whole party, and more espe- 
 cially of the mounted adventurers, to an un- 
 governable transport of rage. The bodies of 
 their companions, who had been massacred the 
 day before, were seen scattered about a field, 
 or thrown into the ditches, not only betraying 
 by their appearance the barbarous manner of 
 their death, but proving by the indignities 
 
 c 5
 
 S4 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 that had been subsequently inflicted upon 
 them, the brutahty of the miscreants who 
 had so wantonly sacrificed them. As this 
 harrowing sight showed that they were now 
 in the immediate vicinity of Ouaste, they 
 clapped spurs to their horses, and, upon gain- 
 ing the summit of a small eminence, beheld the 
 village close beneath them ; while the male 
 inhabitants, probably guessing the object of 
 this incursion, and anticipating their fate if 
 they were surprised, were seen at some dis- 
 tance flying up an opposite hill, with the 
 apparent intention of making for Boulogne. 
 The eyes of the adventurers kindled at the 
 sight ; they muttered deep curses through their 
 clenched teeth, grasped their weapons more 
 firmly, and urged forward their smoking horses 
 to full speed ; while Black Boughton blew a 
 blast upon his trumpet, which set the whole 
 welkin ringing, and by its ominous sound 
 seemed to make the hearts of the fugitives 
 quake within them, for they looked eagerly 
 back, and no sooner obtained a glimpse of 
 the horsemen, than they increased the rapi-
 
 THE TOR HILL. 35 
 
 dity of their flight with every symptom of 
 confusion and dismay. Maddened with rage, 
 and thirsting for revenge, their pursuers dashed 
 down the descent Avith loud cries, and a tu- 
 multuous speed, that resembled an eager fox- 
 chace rather than a military charge, a cloud 
 of dust enshrouding the whole squadron till 
 they reached the bottom of the valley, which 
 was intersected by a broad though shallow 
 stream, whose waters were seen to foam and 
 flash as they galloped through them with un- 
 diminished velocity. 
 
 Too generous to enjoy the infliction of even a 
 merited punishment upon unarmed peasants, 
 Dudley could not behold without some feelings 
 of compunction, the vehement struggles of the 
 terrified wretches to escape, efforts which he 
 knew would prove utterly unavailing, although 
 they might protract their fate for a short 
 period. No such scruples arose in the bosom of 
 the rig-orous Sir Giles. He recovered sufficient 
 command over the troop as they emerged from 
 the water, to lead them along a road that 
 wound under the hill, with the intention of
 
 36 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 heading and intercepting the fugitives, an ob- 
 ject in wliich they had no sooner succeeded 
 than he wheeled round, and, coming up the 
 ascent on the opposite side, gained its summit 
 almost at the same moment as tiie flying pea- 
 sants, who had now no alternative but to fall 
 upon their knees and implore mercy. The ad- 
 venturers were preparing to rush among them 
 and sacrifice them instantly to their wrath, when 
 Sir Giles, covering them with his horsemen, 
 declared that they should have full justice, vil- 
 leins though they were ; and that not a single 
 individual should be punished, until it had been 
 ascertained that he had actvially participated 
 in the massacre of the day before. From the 
 report of the scouts and spies who were sum- 
 moned to decide this point, the whole of the 
 prisoners, thirty-seven in number, were proved 
 to have been active agents in that atrocity, and 
 Sir Giles instantly decided that they should die 
 as soon as the remaining body of the adven- 
 turers came up to assist in this solemn act of 
 justice. In vain did Dudley petition that they 
 might be sold as slaves, or that their hvcs
 
 THE TOR HILL. 37 
 
 should be spared on any conditions that the 
 adventurers themselves might dictate : — the 
 knight, though courteous and urbane in hall or 
 bower, Avas stern and inexorable . in the field. 
 Had they been of gentle lineage indeed, some 
 feelings of humanity might perhaps have plead- 
 ed in their favour; but he had so far imbibed 
 the illiberal notions of the age, as to consider 
 the peasantry of little more account than the 
 beasts of the field ; and, in the present instance, 
 he felt rather as a righteous judge discharging 
 a necessary act of duty, and doing a good to 
 soclet}', by purging it of such a ruffianly crew, 
 than as directing any harsh or sanguinary act 
 of veno-eance. 
 
 When the foot-soldiers joined, he declared 
 that himself and the King"'s troops had no wish 
 to act as executioners, or deprive the aggrieved 
 l^arty of their just prerogative of retribution. 
 He accordingly withdrew to a little distance 
 Avith his horsemen, when the adventurers, having 
 surrounded their unfortunate victims, fell upon 
 them at a signal from Black Boughton's trum- 
 pet, and showing them no more mercy to-day
 
 38 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 than they liad themselves exercised on the pre- 
 vious morning, presently dispatched them with 
 loud cries. As one of their own party, however, 
 had escaped, though not from any intentional 
 lenity of his assailants, they resolved, from an 
 odd sense of justice, to spare an individual of 
 the peasants. This man they accordingly pre- 
 served unhurt, and having mounted him on 
 a fleet horse, they swore him to proceed forth- 
 with and deliver their message to the Com- 
 mander of Boulogne, which was, that, from tliat 
 day forAvard they would spare neither man, wo- 
 man, nor child that fell into their hands, on 
 account of the shameful cruelty that had been 
 inflicted upon Captain Brearton and his party. 
 No sooner -vvas he dismissed with this atrocious 
 resolve, than they set fire to the village of 
 Ouaste, which they burnt to the ground, and 
 then returning to Sir Giles and his horsemen, 
 demanded to be led upon some new enterprise 
 within the enemy's territory. 
 
 Seeing them in this fiery mood for action, gra- 
 tified by their daring spirit, and not without hope 
 that he might signalize his incursion by some
 
 THE TOR HILL. 39 
 
 bold and brilliant exploit, the knight willingly 
 acceded to their request, and set forward in the 
 direction of Montreuil. The scourers now took 
 the lead, looking vigilantly around them, as was 
 their wont, both to prevent surprize, and dis- 
 cover plunder ; in which latter object they were 
 so successful, and so well seconded by their 
 brethren of the adventurers, that they collected 
 a valuable booty of oxen, kine, and other cattle, 
 though not without making a considerable in- 
 road into the enemy's territory, and extending 
 themselves to a proportionate distance from 
 their own frontier. It had been Sir Giles's hope 
 that he might encounter some straggling band 
 of Frenchmen, headed, as they not unfrequently 
 were, by a person of distinction, with whom he 
 might honourably break a spear, and perhaps 
 carry him prisoner to Calais ; but as no such 
 antagonist presented himself, and he calculated 
 that he could hardly convey his booty into the 
 English march before nightfall, he at length 
 gave reluctant orders for the return. 
 
 Both men and horses were jaded with tlie 
 length of the march, and exhausted with the
 
 40 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 heat of the weather, and as the spot which they 
 then occupied, commanding the open country 
 towards Montreuil, sheltered by a wooded hill 
 behind them, which they had just descended, 
 and provided with a clear brook, seemed well 
 adapted for a place of refreshment. Sir Giles 
 commanded a halt. The cavalry accordingly 
 led their horses to the stream, the drovers and 
 scourers gathered their booty together, beside 
 the same water, while the soldiers and adventu- 
 rers putting oft* their helmets, and such heavier 
 portions of their armour as were found most gal- 
 ling, stretched themselves in the shade of some 
 aspens and black poplars that skirted the rivu- 
 let ; betaking themselves to their knapsacks for 
 their dinner, congratulating one another on the 
 signal revenge they had exercised upon the 
 peasants, or calculating the probable value of 
 their booty in the market-place of Calais. 
 ■ They had finished their meal, and Sir Giles 
 was about to give orders for resuming their 
 march, when, as he looked towards the hill in 
 the direction of Calais, he saw ten or twelve 
 knights, armed cap-a-pie, emerge from the wood
 
 THE TOR HILL. 41 
 
 upon its summit, who no sooner perceived the 
 party before them, than they halted, gave a 
 signal, as if to some troops behind, and imme- 
 diately afterwards a trumpet was blown, which 
 was answered by tAvo others, sounding from the 
 rearward. Sir Giles hastily pulled down his 
 vizor, and clasped it to the plackard, gathering 
 up his horse's reins, and grasping his lance 
 at the same moment, while he called aloud, 
 " Blow, trumpeters, blow, to horse and harness, 
 to stirrup and standard ! Up quickly, ye that 
 be good men and true, and each to his rank, for 
 there be Frenchmen and lances of note upon 
 the hill, that will require rougher handling than 
 yonder ribald knaves whom ye knocked upon 
 the head just now." 
 
 " Beshrew me, Sir," said Dudley ; " it would 
 like me better that Black Boughton were blow- 
 ing the (lesarmez, or sounding the lodging after 
 a goodly tournament ; for, by the peacock's 
 feather on his horse's forehead, and the same 
 bearing in the rider's casque, methinks yonder 
 knight in the blue armour should be the Duke 
 of Vendome ; and I warrant me he rides not
 
 4S THE TOR HILL. 
 
 thus far from Montreuil without such a heavy 
 force, both of horse and foot, as may befit his 
 dignity." 
 
 " Be it so," said the knight fiercely ; " we 
 are too old skirmishers to be frightened by a 
 few plumps of spears ; and, if we be but 
 staunch, Ave may perhaps pluck the feathers 
 from this same peacock-knight, and prevent 
 his return to Montreuil." 
 
 *' Unless he should happen to intercept our's 
 to Calais," said Dudley, though his uncle 
 heard it not, as he had galloped down the 
 ranks to put his troops in array, and prepare 
 them for the anticipated conflict. The squire's 
 conjecture as to the name and quality of the 
 splendid knight, who still retained his station 
 upon the hill, was perfectly correct. The 
 peasant dispatched by the adventurers with 
 such an insulting message to Boulogne, had 
 not ridden far before he encountered the Duke 
 of Vendome, accompanied by the Count Dam- 
 martin, the Governor of Montreuil, and a force 
 of fifteen hundred horsemen, and eight hun- 
 dred foot soldiers, making a reconnoisance
 
 THE TOR HILL. 43 
 
 towards the English border, with the Inten- 
 tion of proceeding afterwards to burn and de- 
 stroy the country in the neighbourhood of St. 
 Omer's. To these illustrious commanders, he 
 imparted the sad fate of his countrymen, as 
 well as the sanguinary notification with which 
 he was charged, both of which were received 
 with the fiercest indignation. Without at- 
 tempting to palliate the enormity committed 
 in the first instance by their own peasants, 
 they argued that the revenge of the English, 
 perpetrated in cold blood, and under the sanc- 
 tion of gentlemen and regular soldiers, was in- 
 finitely worse than the ferocity of the ignorant 
 boors ; and as the adventurers had now for- 
 mally signified their intention of continuing this 
 savage warfare, they learned with delight that 
 their corps was in the immediate neighbour- 
 hood, and that there was a prospect of surpri- 
 sing and exterminating a band of desperadoes, 
 who had long; rendered themselves obnoxious 
 to the whole French pale. Guided by the 
 peasant, they accordingly pushed forward for 
 Ouaste, and following in the rear of Sir Giles
 
 44 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 and his party, the Duke, and a few officers of 
 the advance, had, upon gaining the hill and 
 emerging from the wood, discovered the ob- 
 jects of their pursuit as already stated. 
 
 As the French cavalry gradually formed 
 themselves upon either side of the wood. Sir 
 Giles was enabled to ascertain that they 
 were by no means limited to a few plumps of 
 spears, as he had first conjectured ; and, foresee- 
 ing that the onslaught was likely to prove a 
 desperate one, he looked anxiously around for 
 the most advantageous position in which to 
 receive their attack. At a little distance in the 
 rear, the brook, impeded in its progress, spread 
 into a reedy swamp, which extended along one 
 side of the road, while the opposite was protec- 
 ted by a steep bank and a ditch. Upon this 
 spot, as better calculated to resist the attack of 
 cavalry, he took up his position ; when, having 
 formed his little troop, and placed himself amid 
 their ranks, he thus addressed them — " My good 
 soldiers and brethren, for such will I call ye, 
 since ye have chosen me your captain for the 
 day. I have led ye into this jeopardy, and be-
 
 THE TOR HILL. 45 
 
 fore God, I will perish with ye, or deliver ye out 
 of it. Ye are adventurers by name, and now is 
 the time of your adventure come ; for as your 
 hands and weapons be yet red with French blood, 
 yonder horsemen will have little ear for ransom 
 or quarter. If any thing save our lives, it must 
 be God and our own hardiness ; wherefore let 
 us swear to be true to one another ; and if I turn 
 horse's head, or offer to quit rank, I desire that 
 ye may slay me out of hand." At the conclu- 
 sion of this harangue the whole band, determi- 
 ned to cut their way through the enemy or pe- 
 rish in the attempt, cried God mercy for their 
 sins, and knelt down and kissed the earth, and 
 struck hands each with the other, in token and 
 pledge that every one would stand by his fellow 
 to the uttermost ; and then, having made them- 
 selves ready to receive the attack, they awaited 
 it with a fixed and desperate resolution. 
 
 But as the horsemen on the hill, although 
 they had now formed on either side the wood, 
 showed no disposition to give battle, Sir Giles 
 began to apprehend, that, in order to make sure 
 of their prey, they were waiting to be joined by
 
 46 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 their foot-soldiers, who were not yet come up ; 
 a conjecture that was strengthened when he re- 
 collected the trumpets which he had heard 
 sounding in their rear. In the hope, therefore, 
 of anticipating their arrival, he proposed to his 
 band that they should drive the cattle before 
 them, and under the cover of the dust, and the 
 shelter of their bodies, march up the hill and 
 make for the wood, where they would be safer 
 from the cavalry than in their present station ; 
 adding, that if they could maintain themselves 
 amid the trees till nightfall, they would have 
 good chance of escaping altogether, and making 
 their way in the dark to the gates of Calais. 
 This proposition being received with loud cries 
 of " Forward ! forward ! St. George and Hun- 
 gerford !" they goaded their cattle with spears 
 and arrows, and confusedly driving off the whole 
 mingled booty, followed at a brisk pace close 
 behind them. Scarcely, however, had they ad- 
 vanced a hundred yards, when Sir Giles, whose 
 tall horse gave him a more commanding view 
 than the others, saw a solid mass of spears, with 
 a pennon in its centre, gleaming above the dust
 
 THE TOR HILL. 47 
 
 on the summit of the hill, which they had no 
 sooner begun to descend, than he marked a 
 second array of bright spears and another pen- 
 non, advancing up to the crest of the eminence. 
 Although the' men of the first squadron were 
 rendered invisible by the dust, and the second 
 had not yet completely surmounted the height, 
 he knew by the motion of their arms, that they 
 were foot-soldiers in good force, and becoming 
 now more anxious than ever to gain the wood, 
 before his troops should be exposed to the charge 
 under such a fearful inequality of numbers, he 
 called out to his men to advance at double quick 
 time. 
 
 For some little distance this order was obeyed 
 with alacrity, but their progress was soon impe- 
 ded by an enemy they had not anticipated. 
 Terrified and driven back by spear-wounds and 
 a flight of arrows, the maddened and bleeding 
 cattle came rushing down the hill at full speed, 
 raising such fresh clouds of dust that they could 
 neither see nor be seen, and acquiring such a 
 momentum from the declivity, that they over- 
 threw every thing before them. Though most
 
 48 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 of the adventurers and soldiers who had been 
 thus borne down quickly recovered their legs, 
 they were thrown into a temporary confusion, at 
 which untoward moment they were charged in 
 front by the first body of the enemy'^s spearmen, 
 while the cavalry galloping up, attacked them 
 upon both flanks, which were now left unco- 
 vered; the whole party of the French setting 
 up at the same time a deafening shout of " St. 
 Denis ! Vendome !"" to which the English re- 
 plied by lusty cries of " St. George ! Hunger- 
 ford !" 
 
 The melee now became a scene of frightful 
 confusion and indiscriminate slaughter, French 
 and English, horse and foot, men and beasts, 
 being wildly intermingled, while,'in the density 
 of the dust, friend and foe were exposed to an 
 almost equal peril, especially as the roaring of 
 the animals, the whistling of arrows, the clamour 
 of the infuriated combatants, and the rival blasts 
 of the trumpets, rendered all appeal or explana- 
 tion utterly inaudible. Hopeless as they were of 
 fighting v/ith success iagainst such superior num- 
 bers, and under such manifold disadvantages.
 
 THE TOE HILL. 49 
 
 the adventurers yet held stoutly and undaunted- 
 ly together, doing good havoc among their ene- 
 mies, so long as their arrows lasted or they could 
 preserve any sort of order in their ranks ; but 
 after this period they began to fall "4thout inter- 
 mission beneath the blows of their assailants, and 
 their feebler and more scattered war-cry attest- 
 ed that their numbers were rapidly diminishing. 
 At this juncture the Duke of Vendome, riding 
 up with his guard of horsemen, called aloud 
 " Death to the adventurers, quarter to the gen- 
 tlemen and soldiers !"" an oider which quickly 
 completed the extermination of the former, while 
 such of the fiftv English horsemen as remained 
 alive, gladly surrendered themselves prisoners 
 of war. 
 
 The pugnacious Sir Giles, however, who 
 had no notion of any battle but of fighting 
 it out to the last, and who felt himself besides 
 bound in honour, as well as by his vow, to 
 stand or fall with the adventurers, dreamt 
 not of accepting the proffered quarter, but 
 continued to wield his weapon with a fell and 
 obstinate spirit of desperation. His good horse 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 had hitherto borne him up gallantly, snorting 
 with rage, fighting with his fore-feet, pushing 
 forwards, as if to bear down all opposition 
 with the long iron spike with which his chest 
 was armed, and at one time actually seizing 
 a French horse's ear with his teeth, and hold- 
 ino- it fast until Sir Giles had destroyed his 
 i-ider; exhausted, hov/ever, by the loss of 
 blood from numerous spear-wovmds in his 
 flanks, Roan Runnymede at length sunk to 
 the ground. Even in this extremity, the noble 
 animal raised himself upon his haunches, and, 
 as if conscious of his master''s danger, as he 
 saw him at some distance beset with assailants, 
 he made one more convulsive effort and re- 
 eovei*ed his legs, but, in the attempt to move 
 forward, fell heavily upon his side, and instantly 
 expired. 
 
 Cased in good armour of proof, dealing- 
 out blows on all sides with an vmdiminished 
 vigour, leaving an empty saddle wherever he 
 struck at a horseman, deaf to the voice of 
 Dudley, who followed close behind, and re- 
 peatedly called out to him that he was almost
 
 THE TOR HILL. 51 
 
 the only combatant in the field, Sir Giles 
 pressed forward towards the Duke of Ven- 
 dome, who was conspicuous, not less by the 
 splendour of his equipments, than by the 
 peacock's feathers that nodded on his horse's 
 head as well as on his own casque. Appa- 
 rently resolved to perish with the adventurers, 
 Sir Giles seemed anxious to signalize his end 
 by the death of the most distinguished among 
 his enemies : with incredible efforts, he had ac- 
 tually fought his way within sword-length of the 
 duke, and was raising his arm to attack him, 
 when a blow from a battle-axe occasioned his 
 vizor to start from its sockets and fly up, 
 and as he hastily grasped it for the purpose 
 of again covering his face, the whole beaver, 
 although constructed and secured upon an 
 improved principle of his own, came off in his 
 hand. Tn utter amazement at this inexplica- 
 ble occurrence, he lost for a moment his self- 
 possession, and ere he could recover himself, 
 he was desperately wounded in his defenceless 
 face by an arrow. Staggering backwards at 
 the blow, he fell to the ground, and would 
 
 D 2
 
 52 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 probably have been dispatched by his assailants, 
 since he was too stubborn to demand his life, 
 but that Dudley bestrode his body, calling out 
 aloud — •" Quarter and ransom for Sir Giles 
 Hungerford of The Tor !" The Duke of -Ven- 
 dome, although the knight's last efforts had 
 been aimed at his destruction, admired his reck- 
 less valour, and generously gave orders, not 
 only that his life should be spared, but that he 
 should be carried to Montreuil with all care, 
 and his wounds be dressed by his own surgeon. 
 A cart being procured for his conveyance, and 
 an escort appointed to accompany the prisoners, 
 they commenced their melancholy march, Dud- 
 ley, who had marvellously escaped with only a 
 slight spear-wound in the back of his arm, 
 walking by the side of his uncle ; while the 
 duke, and the remainder of the French force, 
 struck across the country, with the intention of 
 executing their original hostile purposes in the 
 neighbourhood of St. Omer's. 
 
 With a characteristic impetuosity, the knight, 
 in his first vehement eflPort to extract the arrow, 
 had broken it off at the iron head, which was
 
 THE TOR HILL. oS 
 
 left in his face ; but although the pain of his 
 wound must have been sufficiently acute, it 
 seemed entirely to escape his attention in his 
 eagerness to explain the cause of his receiving 
 it, and the wrath with which he vilipended the 
 armourer for the clumsy workmanship to which 
 alone he attributed the accident. Clear as was 
 the fact that his own fancied improvement was 
 utterly worthless in the hour of need, and heavy 
 as was the penalty that he was likely to pay for 
 his mistake, he clung to his invention with a te- 
 nacity increased by its failure; and had he been 
 required to renew the combat^ and again peril 
 his life upon the security of his helmet, he 
 would have disdained to make the smallest al- 
 teration in its construction. " Alas the while ! 
 Sir," said Dudley, as he walked by his side; " it 
 was an evil hour and an unlucky deed, when you 
 first altered the old gear of your armour. It 
 ever mistrusted me that a shrewd blow of a 
 mace or battle-axe would make the beaver start 
 from the sockets of the plackard, and doleful is 
 it to think that you should pay so dear for 
 being wrong in your principle."
 
 54 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 " God's precious, sirrah !" cried the knight, 
 starting up in his cart, " what mean you by 
 ' wrong in my principle ?' I tell thee, thou dod- 
 dy-pate, it is the rarest improvement in head- 
 pieces since the alteration of the bassnet-piece 
 and the barbet : and this would have been as' 
 staunch a morion as ever stood the brunt of 
 two-handed sword, had not the cozening ar- 
 movirer (for which may the hangman have the 
 twisting of his neck !) tackled it with treacherous 
 solder. ' Wrong in ray principle,' forsooth ! When 
 our brave king would assay a new harness of 
 his own, at tilt with the Duke of Suffolk, and 
 his vizor, sticking in the joint, left his face 
 clean naked, and the duke struck him on the 
 coif-scull with such force that his lance was 
 splintered by the counterbufF, to the great peril 
 of his highness's life, I showed him that, had 
 he worn one of my improved helmets, he could 
 never have been placed in such jeopardy, and 
 his grace's armourer forthwith borrowed this 
 very head-piece for a pattern." 
 
 " Would he had kept it," said Dudley — 
 " and hammered it into a cook's porringer, so
 
 THE TOR HILL, 55 
 
 you might have worn one of the old fashion, 
 and have 'scaped this ugly wound." 
 
 " Tut ! boy, 'tis but as a spur to the old war- 
 horse. I have had an arrow in my flesh before 
 to-day. 'Twill be the better for bleeding thus 
 freely: bat, sooth to say, it makes me an un- 
 seemly figure, and as my beard is sodden, I 
 would fain let it trickle over the cart-side." 
 
 Any one who had noticed the grisly counte- 
 nance of Sir Giles, with an iron arrow-head 
 sticking in his cheek, and the gore streaming- 
 down his beard into the road, as he propped 
 himself upon the edge of the vehicle, would 
 have deemed that he was travelling his last 
 journey, and that his thoughts would be of tlie 
 priest and the next world ; and yet to listen to 
 him it might seem that he was whole of body, 
 and hearty of cheer, and bound to some gallant 
 tournament ; for his talk was of nothing but feats 
 of arms in battle or at barrier, and of every 
 species of warrior's accoutrement; still, how- 
 ever, bringing round his discourse to his own 
 incomparable improvements of all sorts, but 
 particularly in the mode of uniting the vizor,
 
 56 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 the beavers, and the plackards. " Was it not 
 in the second year of his reign," he exclaimed 
 to Dudley, " that, in the feast of Pentecost, 
 being then at his royal manor of Greenwich, 
 our vahant King, with his two aids, challenged 
 all comers, being gentlemen, to fight with them at 
 the barriers with target, and casting the seven- 
 foot spear; and after to encounter together until 
 each should have abided twelve strokes of the 
 two-handed sword ? I was one of his encoun- 
 terers, and beshrew me if he did not deliver 
 himself so valiantly by his hardy prowess and 
 great strength, that he bore away the laud from 
 his assailants ; howbeit I then discovered the 
 defect in his pacegard and poldren, which he 
 ordered his armourer thenceforward to amend.'' 
 '' I was yet a boy, and had not come to the 
 use of the yew-bow at that period," replied 
 Dudley, " but I have heard you mention the 
 circumstance." If he had added " som.e scores of 
 times," he would not have been wide of the mark, 
 for the knight, though not generally garrulous, 
 loved to dissert upon the improvements he had 
 introduced in the construction of knightly har- 
 ness. "
 
 THE TOR HILL. 57 
 
 *' That was a pleasant joust and tournament,'" 
 continued Sir Giles, " which the good Queen 
 Katherine of Arragon proclaimed at her manor 
 of Havering in the Bower ; and great and gal- 
 lant was the company of fair ladies, when Lord 
 Umfreville brake his leg by the falling of his 
 liorse, and the Duke of Suffolk aimed his lance 
 so truly against Sir Francis Bryan, that it en- 
 tered the sight of his vizor, and thrust out his 
 eye; and by the report of the judges and 
 heralds of the jousts, there were broken five 
 hundred and six spears when the pastime was 
 concluded. Before Sir Francis's wound was 
 dressed, I submitted to the inspection of his 
 remaining eye my new sloping sight for the 
 vizor, when he exclaimed, — ' God\s pity ! Sir 
 Giles, I had rather than a hundred angels you 
 had shown me this an hour ago ; for so I might 
 have won the prize and saved mine eye, whereas 
 now I have lost both.'" 
 
 " Before heaven V cried Dudle}^, " I wish you 
 had worn to-day an old St. Crispin's helm that 
 had seen service at the battle of A-gincourt, rather 
 than this new head-piece with all its improve- 
 ments ; for methinks your wound runs fresher 
 
 D 5
 
 58 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 than before, and you are likely to leave your 
 best blood upon the road, ere we can cross the 
 drawbridge of Montreuil. Prythee, my good 
 fellow," he continued, addressing the driver in 
 French — " put your beasts to better speed, and 
 it shall be some silver livres in your pocket, for 
 your prisoner is a gentleman and a kniglit, and 
 has quick need of tlie Duke's surgeon." 
 
 " Tush, boy !" exclaimed the knight, some- 
 what testily ; " a little blood will soon turn a 
 man's beard into a red flag, and I tell thee once 
 more, my wound is nothing, though 'tis pity I 
 drew not out the head, and that the arrow 
 splintered in my hand : whence I conclude it 
 was not of yew, or ash, or hornbeam, but rather 
 of sallow or fir, as is the wont with these bun- 
 gling French, who can neither make fletcher's 
 gear properly, nor use it when they have it. 
 And, in sooth, there are no bowmen in the 
 world like our Englisli archers, with whom 
 even our neighbours of Scotland, though they 
 be stout rufflers, cannot venture to do battle. 
 Of this I was an eye-witness at the fight of 
 Fiodden Hill, where, after the great ordnance
 
 THE TOR HILL. 59 
 
 had shotten away all the stones provided foi- 
 them, our long and cross-bowmen advanced, 
 and did withall deliver their deadly arrows so 
 lively, so courageously, so grievously, that they 
 ran through the Scottish men-of-arms, bored 
 the helmets, pierced the very swords, beat their 
 lances to the ground, and easily shot those who 
 were more slightly armed through and tlirough. 
 Nay, mv good friend. Sir Lionel Fitzmaurice, 
 who saved my life in that onslaught with the 
 near loss of his own, assured me that he saw an 
 arrow pass clean through the throat of an un- 
 armed peasant, and still continue to cleave as 
 merrily through the air as if it had not left a 
 death behind it : all wliich doings I may, at 
 least partly, attribute to my new method of 
 pointing the arrows, wliich was then first 
 brought into use, the heads being boiled and 
 brazed, and then hardened v. ith steel."" 
 
 " I have heard,"" replied Dudley, willing to 
 amuse his uncle, by continuing to discourse 
 upon his favourite topic ; " or rather I remem- 
 ber to have read, an account of that great fight 
 of Flodden or Bramston Hill, wherein the hi.s-
 
 "^ THE TOU HILL. 
 
 torian says, *tliat no sooner did the bloody blast 
 of the terrible trumpet give signal of battle, 
 than out burst the ordnance on both sides, with 
 ^re, flame, and hideous noise, and the master 
 gunner of the English part slew the master 
 gunner of Scotland, and beat all his men from 
 their ordnance, so that the Scottish ordnance 
 did no harm to the English ; but the English- 
 men's artillery shot into the midst of the Kino-'s 
 battle, and slew many persons :' from wliich 
 account it would appear that the gunners of 
 the Earl of Surrey did as trusty service as his 
 archers upon that triumphant day." 
 
 " At a distance, I grant you," replied the 
 knight, " but at near quarters and handy 
 strokes, the bow and billmen of England were 
 ever the most terrible in the onslaught. These 
 gunpowder engines like me not, Dudley, and I 
 foresee that ere long they will bear down aU 
 knighthood and good chivalry. Foul fall the 
 shaven monk that invented this pestilent grain, 
 and evil hap to the smiths that are ever dis- 
 covering some new mischievous machine of 
 the sort ! Caliver, and harquebuse, and other
 
 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 61 
 
 hand-o-uns, were not enow, but we must have 
 heavy gear of every device, such as falcons, 
 chambers, serpentines, basilisks, curtails, cul- 
 verines, sacres, and God wot how many more, 
 besides the King's great gun of three yards long, 
 that shoots a stone as big as a penny loaf. 
 Dudley, Dudley ! it will never be well for the 
 crentle order of chivalry, whereof I profess my- 
 self a humble member, if bold hearts and stout 
 limbs are to go for nothing, and cowards may 
 win battles by thrusting pounded sulphur and 
 charcoal into an iron pipe."" 
 
 Hitherto, Sir Giles had been more than usu- 
 ally communicative, not only from the pleasure 
 he found in conversing of his improvements, 
 but from a spirit of opposition prompting him 
 to prove to his conductors that he was not 
 cast down by his misfortunes, as well as to 
 convince his own wounds that they had not 
 been able to silence him. The latter may ap- 
 pear a fooMsh and inexplicable feehng ; but he 
 looked upon the French arrow-head sticking in 
 his cheek, as a clinging enemy still suckiiig his 
 blood, who might be supposed to enjoy the tri-
 
 62 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 umpli if his victim flinched under the infliction. 
 For a long time, therefore, he had borne up 
 ao^ainst his suflerings with a stoical resolution, 
 but the powers of his body, rather than of his 
 mind, began at length to fail him ; he ceased 
 speaking, because he feared that his faltering 
 voice might betray his weakness ; the remain- 
 der of his painful journey was performed in 
 silence ; and when the escort arrived at Mon- 
 treuil, the exhausted Sir Gile's was found not 
 only unable to stand, but almost insensible to 
 every thing that was passing around him. 
 
 As it was known that he was a person of 
 consideration, and the Duke's orders as to his 
 treatment were faithfully reported by his con- 
 ductors, he received the most prompt and 
 humane attentions ; quarters were assigned 
 liim in the governor''s hovise, his squire was 
 permitted to wait upon him, and the most emi- 
 nent surgeon in the place was put in instant 
 requisition for his relief. Rest and restoratives 
 soon enabled him to recover some degree of 
 strength; but, upon disarming him, it had been 
 found that the blow of the battle-axe had left
 
 THE TOR HILL. 63 
 
 a perilous contusion upon his head, although 
 he had never complained of any inconvenience 
 from it ; while the arrow-point in his cheek 
 was ascertained to be barbed, and to be en- 
 tangled in the bone, a circumstance which suf- 
 ficiently explained the breaking of the shaft 
 in his forcible endeavours to extract it, and 
 left it doubtful whether siugical skill were 
 likely to prove more effectual than his own 
 first efforts. As delay was considered dan- 
 gerous, and he appeared on the following day 
 both able and anxious to undergo the opera- 
 tion, an attempt was made to withdraw the 
 iron from the wound ; but it had either so firmly 
 inserted itself by means of the barb, or, which 
 is perhaps the more probable supposition, the 
 professional apparatus and skill of that a^ra 
 were so little competent to its extraction, that, 
 after much torture had been inflicted upon him 
 in vain, it was pronounced dangerous to per- 
 severe. Nature, it was declared, must nov^ be 
 left to herself: instances were adduced in which 
 equally dangerous wounds had healed spon- 
 taneously, and the patients had borne iron with
 
 64 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 them to their graves, without suffering more 
 than occasional inconvenience ; and if the pre- 
 sent case were destined to take a fatal turn 
 from the nature of the internal injury, it was 
 at all events desirable to avoid giving any more 
 unnecessary pain to the patient. 
 
 So unfavourable had the symptoms become in 
 the course of three or four days, that Sir Giles 
 himself was the only one who felt confident 
 of his recovery. Having taken up a notion 
 that the French made bad arrows, and were 
 such unskilful archers, as seldom to inflict a 
 mortal wound, he could not consent to be con- 
 vinced of his mistake by any evidence, and 
 especially by one offered in his own person. 
 It seemed to be an act of insubordination that 
 his body should thus presume to set itself up 
 ao-ainst the firm conviction of his mind ; and 
 he took good care, therefore, whatever anguish 
 or inconvenience he might endure, to attinbute 
 it to the blow of the battle-axe, rather than 
 to the arrow-wound, which he always maintain- 
 ed to be trifling. Nature decided differently ; 
 his cheek grew hourly worse; fever and in-
 
 THE TOR HILL. 65 
 
 flammation made rapid progress; unequivocal 
 proofs of a fatal termination began to manifest 
 themselves, and the surgeon at last, after la- 
 menting his inability to extract the iron, felt 
 It his duty to ask Sir Giles whether he was pre- 
 pared to die of his wound ? 
 
 " No, Sir Leech," replied the knight with a 
 look that was much fiercer than his enfeebled 
 voice : " and I will not tell a lie to oblige you. 
 Fain would you have it said, that an English 
 knight has at length been killed by a French 
 archer ; but never shall Sir Giles Hungerford, 
 of The Tor, lend himself to any such false 
 averment. Of the blow from the battle-axe 
 if it so please Heaven, I am willing to die 
 within the hour; but had I no other harm 
 than this bodkin in my face, I would gao-e 
 within three days to encounter the best knio-ht 
 of France on horse or a-foot, in field or bar- 
 rier, with lance, sword, or pole-axe." 
 
 Arching up his eye-brows, shrugging his 
 shoulders, and turning out the palms of his 
 hands, the French surgeon protested that Sir 
 Giles was at liberty to attribute his death to 

 
 66 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 Avhatever cause he pleased, and that he was 
 only actuated by a sense of duty, when he 
 declared once more that his end was rapidly 
 approaching. 
 
 " Little need have I then for your further 
 company," said Sir Giles with a frown ; " but 
 hark ye, Sir Gaul, if I must e'en laiy my bones 
 in French ground, give it not out to your, 
 fellows that I was killed by a French archer, 
 for it is not, and shall not be, sooth ; and it 
 were grievous to me to be thus slandered."" 
 
 The surgeon laid both hands upon his breast, 
 made a profound bow, and quitted the apart- 
 ment, without reply ; again, however, shrugging 
 his shoulders when he had passed the threshold, 
 at the strange and stubborn fancy of his pa- 
 tient. 
 
 Dudley, who entered shortly afterwards, had 
 no sooner seated himself by his bedside, than the 
 knight, extending to him his fevered hand, thus 
 addressed him.- — " Poyns, my good companion 
 and trusty squire, for such have you well 
 proved yourself in this and every brunt of fate, 
 3'onder blood-letter stoutly avers that I must
 
 THE TOR HILL. 67 
 
 die, and of a verity I mistrusted, from the very 
 first, that blow of the battle-axe or pole-axe, 
 I know not which it was ; and I have doomful 
 feelings within me, that do indeed assure me 
 my tournament of life is well nigh run, and 
 that I shall shortly be dismissed to my last 
 lodging ; wherefore give good heed to what 
 I say, and fail not to see my dying orders and 
 request faithfully fulfilled. It is known to you 
 that my singular good friend, Sir Lionel Fitz- 
 maurice, saved my life at the battle of Flod- 
 den, for his hardy deeds on which day he Avas 
 knighted on the spot. You are well av/are 
 that my kinsman. Lord Hungerford, is of evil 
 fame, and a blot to our escutcheon, Avhom I 
 need not care to endow witli my fortune ; for 
 yourself, you are already sure of rich heritage, 
 and will moreover receive goodly portion with 
 the daughter of Sir Eustace Poyns, to whom 
 you are affianced. I have therefore provided 
 by my will, that if your cousin Cecil, my only 
 child, should die without issue, all my manors 
 and estates, lands, houses, and hereditaments, 
 should devolve upon Sir Lionel Fitzmaurice,
 
 68 
 
 THE TOa HILL. 
 
 in gratitude for my preservation at Flodden. 
 To him have I entrusted the management of 
 all my affairs in England, for which purpose 
 I gave him up my house of The Tor ; and know- 
 ing him by good warrant to be an approved 
 soldier, I have to him also confided the edu- 
 cation of my boy Cecil. From my long absence 
 in the wars, I have not for some years seen 
 either England or my son, and, by. Saint John 
 Baptist ! my good Dudley, it draws blood from 
 my very heart to tell thee what sorry tidings 
 I learn of him ; for Sir Lionel ever writes me 
 word that he is not only of feeble frame, a mis- 
 fortune which might liave been well endured, 
 but that he is of so dastard, craven, and wo- 
 manish a spirit, as to mislike the great horse 
 and the lance, the bow and the sword, and all 
 exercise of arms and knightly practice." 
 
 *' My cousin is yet young," said Dudley, 
 " and you state him to be sickly. Doubt not 
 that with better years and health, a more fiery 
 spirit will be kindled, and that he will yet prove 
 himself a true and valiant Hungerford." 
 
 " Alas the while ! my good Poyns, I have
 
 THE TOR HILL. 69 
 
 not told you all; for his guardian adds that 
 he is shy and sullen, shunning all accost, and 
 ever puling and moping in the mumps; and 
 moreover, that he fears his faculties to be so 
 frail that he will grow up to be little better 
 than a simple-vvitted innocent. Wherefore, as 
 I would not that he should be enrolled a knight, 
 only perchance to prove a recreant to the order, 
 and a dishonour to his lineage, it is my will 
 that he should never wear harness, but marry 
 so soon as he comes to man's estate, in the hope 
 that he may raise up an heir more able than 
 himself to sustain our honours and our escutch- 
 eon; and finally, as I wish not a race of gulls, 
 dotterels, and dunces, to descend from his loins, 
 and as Sir Lionel and his present tutor are 
 doubtful of his wits and hopeless of his scholar- 
 ship, I desire that he may be straightway placed 
 with the Abbot of Glastonbury, who is a good 
 and learned clerk, and moreover well skilled 
 in the breeding of youth. Now tell me, my 
 good Dudley, do you bear all this clearly in 
 your mind ? and will you promise to be as 
 faithful to me after death, as you have been
 
 70 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 in my life-time, by conveying these instruc- 
 tions to Sir Lionel, and caring that they be 
 carried into strict execution ?" 
 
 " Every particular is impressed deeply on 
 my mind," replied Dudley ; " and I pledge 
 myself to see your wishes fulfilled ; but were it 
 not well that you should record them in a let- 
 ter, that so I may have warrant to Sir Lionel ?"" 
 
 " Right, bo}', right ; and pry thee indite it 
 for my signature incontinently, for I was ever 
 more ready at handling a lance than a pen, and 
 now, when both head and hand are beginning 
 to fail me, I should make but a sorry scribe." 
 
 Dudley withdrew to prepare the letter, and 
 returning when he had completed it, presented 
 it to his uncle, who, as he signed it, uttered the 
 first sigh that had yet escaped his lips, and ex- 
 claimed, in a regretful tone, " Ah, Dudley, 
 Dudley ! I shall soon lie in the dark and deaf 
 o-rave, where 1 slmll neither see harnessed 
 knights, barbed steeds, and brandished lances ; 
 nor hear herald cry to the onset at tilt or tour- 
 nament. My heart shalh leap no more at the 
 loved sound of the trumpet ; I shall never 
 more spur Roan Runnymede among the
 
 THE TOR HILL. 71 
 
 spears, nor sit at gay banquet, nor listen to 
 minstrel's song, nor gaze upon the bright eyes 
 of beauty. Farewell, my goodly mansion of 
 The Tor, my parks and manors, my wide 
 chaces and pleasant woodlands ! I shall never 
 again make ye echo to the bugle horn, as I hunt 
 the. stag ; nor ride merrily amid your green 
 trees with hawk and falcon. Let me, at least, 
 have my helmet hung up in Glastonbury 
 Church, with a brass-inlayed stone beneath, 
 that it may be hereafter known there was once 
 such a knight as Sir Giles Hungerford, of The 
 Tor !" 
 
 " Truly, Sir," replied Dudley, who had not 
 expected to find his uncle in so desponding a 
 mood, " you must endeavour to forget the 
 pleasures of this world, and, if it like you to 
 have ghostly comfort and be shriven, I can 
 bring you a priest of the French King's Scot- 
 tish guard, who is now at Montreuil, and speaks 
 good English." 
 
 " I like not these Scotsmen's white coats, 
 guarded with silver bullion ; nor do they han- 
 dle their weapons so cleanly as our Kentish or 
 Somersetshire bowmen ; but as their priest may
 
 72 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 better understand his craft than his employers 
 their's, let him, o*' God's name ! do me his good 
 offices.'" 
 
 " I know not, good father," said the knight, 
 when the holy man entered his apartment, 
 " that I have done aught to incur the cen- 
 sure of holy mother church, or to need her 
 absolution and pardon. I have made two pil- 
 grimages to our Lady of Walsingham, and one 
 to Saint Thomas a Becket, giving annually a 
 silver chalice and six wax-Hghts to the former, 
 and to the latter, a green velvet altar-pall for 
 festivals, a Paschal taper, and a cope for the 
 quire, to be worn by the priest out of mass- 
 time. To the chantrey of Farleigh, I have 
 presented a grail, a psalter, and an antiphoncr, 
 all three being illuminated and bound with gold 
 clasps ; besides a font, with a lock and key, to 
 prevent the water from being stolen. I have 
 ever put an angel in the candlestick upon Can- 
 dlemas-day, besides giving alms to the poor at 
 Allhallow Mass, and the Feast of Pentecost ; 
 and by my will, I have not only provided eight 
 wax-lights for the chapel of St. Joseph of Ari-
 
 THE TOR HILL. 75 
 
 mathea, at Glastonbury, but have made endow- 
 ment for saying a special mass for the repose of 
 my soul for ever, after every tolling of the Ave 
 bell in the morning." 
 
 " These are good deeds, my son, which as- 
 suredly \^i\\ not be forgotten, but it rather be- 
 comes thee now to recal such peccadilloes or 
 graver offences as may need repentance and ab- 
 solution, than to vaunt thy righteous doings, 
 however seemly. Hast thou no sins with which 
 thou canst charge thy conscience ?'"' 
 
 " I do remind me, good father, that when his 
 Grace's troops lay be^'ond Bayonne, waiting the 
 supplies which the King of Arragon should 
 have sent us, myself and the Baron of Bur- 
 ford, with a party of demi-lances and custrils, 
 crossed the river of St. INIary, and attacked a 
 French squadron, then making an ascry ; pursu- 
 ing them so far that we fell into an ambush where 
 many of our best men A\'ere done to death, which 
 hath ever grieved me, seeing that I was reprov- 
 ed by the Lord Marquess for acting without 
 orders. And at the fight of Terouenne, I for- 
 bore to slay a part of my prisoners as I had 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 been counselled, whereby they rose and destroy- 
 ed their guard, and plundered our tents, which 
 hath since lain heavy at my heart." 
 
 " This were soon pardoned thee, my son, the 
 more readily as it arose from feelings of Chris- 
 tian clemency. Hast thou nought else to con- 
 fess?'' 
 
 " Nothing, save that I did once, out of a 
 grudge to the good Abbot of Glastonbury, 
 which has, however, been well reconciled, shoot 
 three of his fattest bucks with a cross-bow, but 
 I have provided by my will eight wax-lights, 
 as I told you, for the Chapel of St. Joseph of 
 Arimathea." 
 
 " Eight waxen sizes, my son, are but a sorry 
 retribution for so grave a misdeed." 
 
 "■ Why then, o' God's name,'"* cried the 
 knight, testily ; " let them, an' you will, be 
 whole quarrions" — (which were large square 
 pieces of wax, with a wick in them,) — " and 
 prythee keep no more coil about the Abbot's 
 bucks which cost him never a venison-pasty the 
 less; but do your shriving work gently and 
 quickly, for I feel that I am not long to live."
 
 THE TOR HILL. 75 
 
 The priest having prayed for some time by 
 his side, and administered the viaticum, with- 
 drew, and when Dudley re-entered the cham- 
 ber, his uncle declared that he felt more com- 
 forted in his mind, and was perfectly resigned 
 to his fate. "But tell mc, good Poyns," he 
 enquired, "• what paper have you yonder in your 
 hand?" 
 
 " A trumpeter has just arrived from Calais, 
 bringing a message to the governor of ]\Ion- 
 treuil," replied the squire ; " and this letter 
 for yourself, which bears the signet of Sir Gil- 
 bert Talbot." The knight took the paper, and 
 read aloud the superscription — " To my right 
 worshipful and especial good fiiend, Sir Giles 
 Hunoerford of The Tor : — give these with all 
 diligence. Haste ! haste ! haste ! post haste !" 
 when he returned the packet to the squire, 
 desiring him to cut the silk, and break the wax, 
 and read the contents, which he added could 
 be of little interest, since he had finally done 
 with all the affairs of this world. Sir Gilbert 
 stated in his letter that he had no sooner learnt 
 Sir Giles's unfortunate capture, than he dis- 
 
 E 2
 
 76 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 patched the present trumpeter to ascertain the 
 amount of his ransom-money, Avhich he un- 
 dertook to forward within twelve hours after 
 receiving a re|)ly ; adding, that as there was 
 httle stirring, he liad sent a challenge to the 
 captain of Montreuil, inviting him to select six 
 gentlemen of his garrison to meet six gentlemen 
 of the garrison of Calais, in the plain of Mar- 
 gesson, that they might fight together for the 
 love of their respective ladies. This singular 
 remnant of the practices of chivalry was not 
 unfrequently adopted, even so late as Henry 
 the Eighth's time, to relieve the wearisomeness 
 of a siege, or the languor of inactive hostilities : 
 and as Sir Gilhert, although he would not trust 
 the wild and rash valour of the knight to the 
 chance of war upon every foray into the French 
 pale, would confidently pit him against any 
 even numbers in the world, he concluded his 
 letter by stating, that the day of encounter 
 should be postponed until he was sufficiently 
 recovered to become one of the champions. 
 
 His communication was meant in all kind- 
 ness to the wounded knight, but its effect corre-
 
 THE TOR HILL. 77 
 
 sponded not with the intention, for he had no 
 sooner heard it than he started up in his bed, 
 exclaiming eagerly — " Now by heavens and my 
 hohdame ! I never thought till now that it 
 could be such bitterness to die. — Die ! By the 
 mass ! I must not and will not quit life, till I 
 have once more struck fire with my sword upon 
 a Frenchman's steel scull-cap. And see, boy, I 
 am already better^ — I am well. Reach me my 
 lance, good Dudle}'^, and hand me down my 
 harness, for I am stout of heart and limb, and 
 able to overset and dash to the ground both 
 horse and horsemen.'" — At these words he fell 
 back in his bed, utterly exhausted by the efforts 
 he had made, and after having remained some 
 time silent, sunk into uneasy slumber. On his 
 awaking he was light-headed, and his wander- 
 ing thoughts, compounded of his religious exer- 
 cises with the priest, and the projected en- 
 counter with the French knights, suggested to 
 him a beatific vision, in which Christianity and 
 chivalry were strangely blended. Imagining 
 himself to be again bestriding Koan Runny- 
 mede in some Elysium of departed knights, he
 
 78 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 declared that he saw priests, friars, and abbots, 
 armed cap-d-pie, mounted on stately war-horses, 
 and spurring against each other at tilt and 
 tournament ; the whole being so distinctly pic- 
 tured to his mental eye, that he described the 
 splendour of their several equipments with great 
 exactness. 
 
 Another sleep succeeded to this rhapsody, and 
 in the short lucid interval that was granted him 
 when he again awoke, he most earnestly exhorted 
 Dudley never to wear any other helmet in battle 
 than one constructed upon his improved princi- 
 ple ; and having finally intreated him to con- 
 vey his last blessing to his son Cecil, he gently 
 squeezed his hand, and almost immediately 
 expired.
 
 THE TOR HILL. 79 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Ye gossips, alewives, crones ! — with jugs. 
 Cans, cruises, pottles, cups, and mugs, 
 
 Each other greeting ; 
 Tell me, ye boozing beldames, why 
 Yon monk is of your company. 
 
 And what's your meeting ? 
 
 The Duke of Vendome having by this time 
 returned to Montreuil, and learnt the death of 
 his valiant prisoner, not only refused, with great 
 generosity, to take any ransom for his squire, 
 although it would have been readily found, as 
 his connections were affluent, but gave orders 
 that the body of Sir Giles should be escorted to 
 the frontiers of the English pale with all mili- 
 tary honours. Preceded by a trumpeter, and a 
 mounted whiffler with his horn, the procession 
 accordingly set forward on the following morn-
 
 80 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 ing, the corpse being borne upon a caravan, the 
 lance, sword, and harness, disposed around it, 
 Dudley following, and the escort of demi-lances 
 and archers on horseback bringing up the rear. 
 In this order they reached the English frontier, 
 when the French returned to their own c[uar- 
 ters, and Sir Gilbert Talbot, having dispatched 
 a guard of honour for the purpose, the body of 
 the deceased was accompanied back to Calais, 
 and carried under the archway of the Boulogne 
 gate, which he had passed through a few morn- 
 ings before, mounted on his stately war-horse, 
 cased in armour of proof, and in the confi- 
 dent valour of his heart, anticipating a pros- 
 perous issue to his enterprise. What added to 
 the melancholy feelings, which the present con- 
 trast was calculated to awaken in the breasts of 
 the townspeople, was the recollection, that of the 
 whole body of adventurers who had so gallantly 
 marched under his command, not a single indi- 
 vidual was now left alive, so desperate had been 
 the conflict, and so utter the destruction of the 
 band. With all due solemnity, and in pre- 
 sence of the whole assembled garrison, the body
 
 THE TOE HILL. _ Si 
 
 was coGimitted to the earth within the church of 
 St. Nicholas, Sir Gilbert Talbot charging him- 
 self with the office of erecting a monument, 
 with a suitable inscription, to commemorate his 
 various achievements, and their melancholy ter- 
 mination. 
 
 A truce having been concluded between the 
 two nations shortly after this ceremony, Dudley 
 availed himself of the interval to proceed to 
 England, for the purpose of accomplishing the 
 last wishes of Sir Giles, as well as of coming to 
 some decision in a matter wherein his own fu- 
 ture happiness and welfare were most deeply 
 concerned. It has been already intimated that 
 he was affianced to the daughter of Sir Eustace 
 Poyns, an engagement, how-ever, in which his 
 own wishes had never been consulted. In the 
 upper classes of life at this period, it was no 
 uncommon thing for parents to form contracts 
 for the intermarriage of their sons and daugh- 
 ters, even while they v/ere yet infants. Dud- 
 Iey''s father had not only named his son after 
 his friend Sir Eustace Poyns, but had entered 
 into a formal legal covenant for his marrying 
 
 E 5
 
 82 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 Miss Poyns upon her attaining the age of eigh- 
 teen, the portion to be advanced on either side 
 being exactly stipulated, and even the mansion 
 specified in which the new-married couple were 
 to reside. In engagements of this nature it 
 was sometimes customary, where there were 
 two or three daughters, to give the bridegroom 
 the choice of his bride ; but no such selection 
 had been allowed to Dudley, who was bound by 
 name to marry Bridget, the eldest daughter of 
 Sir Eustace Poyns, of Beckhampton Hall, in 
 the county of Wilts. 
 
 Subsequently to this agreement which, with 
 the due assistance of lawyers, had been signed, 
 sealed, and interchanged, while Dudley was a 
 child, many circumstances had occurred to render 
 its execution on his part extremely problematical. 
 Both his parents being now dead, he did not 
 consider himself any longer responsible for the 
 fulfilment of a contract to which he had never 
 been a party : he had not seen the young lady 
 thus chosen for him since she was an inmate of 
 the nursery ; he had a particular objection to 
 the name of Bridget ; and his recollections of
 
 THE TOii HILL. ' 83 
 
 Sir Eustace were by no means such as to render 
 him anxious to claim him as a father-in-law. 
 His own absence in the wars, where he had 
 been generally moving about with the army, 
 had prevented any frequent communication be- 
 tween them, but as the young lady's eighteenth 
 year was now approaching, and her father 
 would doubtless reckon upon the completion of 
 the contract, if he did not hear to the contrary, 
 it was absolutely necessary to come to some 
 immediate decision upon the subject. This he 
 could hardly do without an interview, and he 
 accordingly determined to avail liimself of his 
 present visit to England, for proceeding to 
 Beckhampton Hall, and judging for himself as 
 to the course he should pursue. If he found 
 the young lady adapted to his taste, and likely 
 to constitute a fitting wife for him, there was 
 no reason why he should deviate from the 
 arrangements made by his parents ; if other- 
 wise, he determined not to adhere to them ; 
 and in this latter alternative nothing w^ould 
 remain to him but the painful task of declining 
 the intended honour, and attributing it frankly
 
 84 THK TOR HILL. 
 
 to its real cause ; — a conviction that the fulfil- 
 ment of the contract would not tend to the hap- 
 piness of either party, where there was a want 
 of that reciprocal affection, on which so im- 
 ]5ortant a measure as marriage ought always to 
 be founded. 
 
 Laying down these resolutions for his future 
 conduct, he apprised Sir Eustace by letter of his 
 intended visit to England ; and taking with him 
 the ominous helmet which he had been instruct- 
 ed to suspend in the church of Glastonbury, 
 together with the letter for Sir Lionel Fitzmau- 
 rice, he commenced his journey, accompanied 
 by Pierre, an Anglo-Gaulish servant whom he 
 liad picked up at Calais. This personage had 
 so often alternated in liis residence between the 
 French and English pale, respectively serving 
 masters of each country, to whom he recom- 
 mended himself by his knowledge of both • lan- 
 guages, that he was himself often at a loss of 
 which government to consider himself a subject, 
 or to which to give the preference ; although at 
 the bottom of his heart, France, which was the 
 place of his nativity, possessed the greatest share
 
 THE TOR HILL. 85 
 
 of his affections. Had not his features, accent, 
 and gesticulation betrayed him to others to be of 
 Gaulish origin, his light-heartedness and consti- 
 tutional good-hiuTiour under every trial of tem- 
 per would have afforded strong presumption of 
 his having no English blood in his veins. He 
 was proud, however, of calling himself a British 
 subject when either profit or honour were attach- 
 ed to that title ; while in everything wherein the 
 French bore the palm, he took care to claim a 
 share of the distinction by assuming them for his 
 countrymen. With this attendant Dudley cross- 
 ed the Channel, when he purchased a horse for 
 himself, and another of sufficient strength to 
 carry the huge valise, which was strapped to its 
 back, in addition to Pierre ; and thus equipped, 
 they set forward upon their long journey to the 
 ancient seat of the Hunfjerfords of The Tor. 
 This expedition we shall for the present leave 
 them to prosecute in the lingering manner v/hich 
 was then rendered inevitable by the want of fresh 
 horses, by bad roads, worse accommodation, and 
 difficulties and obstructions of every sort ; while 
 by that pleasant and magical conveyance which a
 
 86 THE TOR HII-L. 
 
 writer can accomplish with a single flourish of his 
 pen, we transfer our readers to a straggling street, 
 or rather lane of houses, in the immediate vici- 
 nity of the then thriving town of Wells in So- 
 mersetshire. 
 
 At one extremity of this irregular street stood 
 an ancient tenement, which had for many years 
 acquired no inconsiderable celebrity as an inn, 
 although he who should associate it in his mind 
 with our modern hotels, which may justly be 
 termed the palaces of the public, would be grie- 
 vously mistaken in his estimate. The building in 
 question was a large, low, thatched house of two 
 stories, the walls of rubble covered with yellow 
 plaster, intersected and crossed with solid beams, 
 or rather rough-hewn trees of old willow, oak 
 being deemed too precious a wood when this 
 caravansera was constructed, to be appropriated 
 to any but churches, and monasteries, or the 
 palaces and mansions of the great. Chimney it 
 had none, for these were deemed luxuries even at 
 a later period, when there were seldom more than 
 two or three in each country town, besides those 
 of the manor-house and the religious edifices ;
 
 THE TOR HILL. 87 
 
 the fires being made in louver holes, or laid 
 against rere-dosses in the hall, and the smoke 
 being considered a salutary specific, not only for 
 hardening the timbers of the roof, but for secur- 
 ing the inmates agahist catarrhs and rheums. 
 The windows of our rural hostelry were of wood- 
 en lattice-work, some of them having the inter- 
 stices left open to the weather, or only screened 
 with canvas ; while two that probably belonged 
 to the best apartment, were filled with thin 
 shavings of horn instead of glass. One of the 
 door-posts was rudely checquered with red and 
 white squares, placed diamond-ways, to signify 
 that the game of tables or draughts might be 
 played within, and from this sign or symbol, as 
 well as from the frequent resort of way-farers, 
 for the purpose of enjoying this recreation while 
 they sipped their ale, the house was known in 
 those parts by the name of " The Tables."* 
 
 And well and widely known it was, for there 
 was no Somersetshire woman, between the Men- 
 
 * These squares being generally painted so as to re- 
 semble lattice-work, the term " red-lattice phrases" 
 came to be applied to such vulgar language as was only 
 worthy of the alehouse.
 
 88 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 dip Hills and Exmoor Forest, or from Filton 
 Hay to Crewkerne Abbey in such high repute 
 for brewing good ale, as the widow Sib Fawcett 
 of the Tables. She was supposed to have ob- 
 tained the secret of her art from a cunning 
 monk, who, according to the scandalous report 
 of the neighbourhood, freqviented her house for 
 other purposes than to hear her confession ; al- 
 though the real m3rstery of her superior brew- 
 age consisted simply in purchasing the ingre- 
 dients herself, and preparing the beverage with 
 her own hands, in her own house., Another cir- 
 cumstance which contributed to the fame of her 
 establishment was her practice, not uncommon 
 in those days, though now fortunately discon- 
 tinued, of advancing liquor upon pledge ; of 
 keeping in fact a pawnbroker's shop, and lend- 
 ing ale upon the security of goods, chattels, and 
 household stuff of all descriptions ; a custom 
 which at a period when pence were almost as 
 rare among the peasantry as pounds are now,* 
 must have been a prodigious accommodation to 
 
 * The wages of a field labourer in this reign, varied 
 frem a penny to tliree halfpence a day.
 
 THE TOR HILL. 89 
 
 the bellies of the thirsty, although it may have 
 probably occasioned their backs to go often 
 bare, and their cottages to be frequently disfur- 
 nished. The weather was unusually sultry, the 
 men were all harvesting in the fields, the wo- 
 men, who had been out gleaning, felt with more 
 than ordinary keenness the necessity of moisten- 
 ing their palates, the statute-fair had a few 
 days before completely exhausted their little 
 hoards of half-pence and farthings, and this 
 combination of circumstances occasioned a flock 
 of female villagers to betake themselves to Sib 
 Fawcett's, most of them provided with some 
 pledge or deposit which they were to leave in 
 pawn for the desiderated liquor, while some few 
 hoped to be equally successful by the more 
 simple expedient of the black board and the 
 chalk-score. 
 
 The public room of the Tables was a large 
 chamber, provided with forms and deal boards 
 upon tressels, the bare, plastered walls were 
 blackened with smoke, the windows were of 
 open wooden lattice, and the clay floor was 
 strewed with rushes, which, from an ancient col-
 
 90 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 lection of grease, beer, bones, the rinsings 
 of wooden trenchers, the filthiness occasioned 
 by the dogs of the guests, and other abomina- 
 tions', constituted a mass little better, either in 
 odour or appearance, than so much dung. Nor 
 should such sluttish housewifery entail any 
 peculiar disgrace upon Sib Fawcett, since it is 
 recorded by no less an authority than Erasmus, 
 that such was genei-ally the case in the houses 
 of the common people, to whose prevalent want 
 of cleanliness he attributes the frequency of the 
 plague in England. In one corner of this apart- 
 ment two old crones were playing at tables 
 beside the open casement, apparently too much 
 occupied in their game to be even annoyed by 
 the wrangling and jangling at the opposite 
 extremity of the room, where Sib Fawcett sate 
 installed behind a species of desk, on which was 
 lying the black score-board and a lump of 
 chalk, while beside her stood her son Dickon, 
 (a marvellously ill-favoured youth with an omi- 
 nous squint,) provided with pen, ink, and 
 paper, and acting as accountant ; an evidence 
 of clerkship which was sufficiently rare in that
 
 THE TOR HTLL. 91 
 
 sphere of life, to justify in some degree the 
 inordinate pride with which his mother contem- 
 plated his accomphshments. In front of this 
 couple was collected a bevy of women, who 
 attested the heat of the weather by their dis- 
 ordered dresses and red faces, not less unequi- 
 vocally than by the eagerness with which they 
 were seeking a supply of good ale to alleviate 
 their thirst, and carry home to their houses. 
 For this purpose each vaunted the value of her 
 proffered pledge as she put it forward, while 
 Sib Fawcett, with a voice and look that sa- 
 voured not a little of the shrew, was equally 
 anxious to depreciate the property, with the 
 obvious motive of limiting her liquid advances. 
 " Gramercy ! neighbour Hogmore," she exclaim- 
 ed, " why thrust ye this rosary in my face ? 
 Ods-precious ! would ye sell heaven for a pottle- 
 pot of malt liquor, and what will Father Bar- 
 nabas say when ye come to confession ? and 
 call ye this string of black marbles a rosary ? 
 Beshrew me, an I have not seen a better made 
 of bored hazle-nuts and oak-apples." 
 
 " Cogswounds, Sib !" replied the person thus
 
 92 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 addressed ; " leave your jeering and look again : 
 is not this paternoster a large false garnet as 
 bright as amber? — this ave-mary a real rock 
 chrystal, or glass that is as good? this credo 
 a true Bristol pebble, and all the rest as honest 
 black beads as ever were prayed to, and sure 
 ye will not boggle at filling the pottle-pot upon 
 the pledge, even an I asked it twice over." 
 
 " With lees and vat washings, perhaps," 
 quoth the hostess ; " but not with Sib Faw- 
 cett's ale at two-pence a gallon. Howbeit, give 
 me the baubles, the credo is a pretty pebble ; 
 so Dickon, set down a quart to Gammer Hog- 
 more, put her tally on the rosary, and lock it 
 up. — By my fackins. Gossip Delves, this is 
 rare ! what gear have we here, I marvel ? an 
 old iron ring to hang arras upon, or pulled, 
 mayhap, by some restive horse out of a barn 
 door ; and upon this blacksmith''s rubbish, I 
 am to fill yonder black-jack with good ale! 
 Marry ! what sort of a gull do ye take me 
 for ?" 
 
 " For a blind buzzard, Sib, rather than a 
 gull, for, by the rood, this ring is well worth
 
 THE TOR HILL. 93 
 
 golden royals of any man's money, ay, or wo- 
 man's either, seeing it is a true and genuine 
 cramp-ring, touched and hallowed by King 
 Henry on a Good Friday, after himself and 
 the queen, and the lords and ladies of the 
 court, had all crept to the cross ; and I wish 
 ye might be this instant drawn double by the 
 cramp that ye might see how clean and clever 
 it shall be driven away by a single touch of 
 this holy relic." 
 
 " And yet. Gossip Delves, thou would'st 
 rather trust to a pottle of Sib's malting : and 
 mass ! thou 'rt in the right, for no church-ale 
 that e'er was brewed, was more sovereign for 
 the quack, the pose, and the cholic ; though 
 the cramp, I grant ye, takes a stubborn grip, 
 and will not away with anything weaker than 
 rosa solis or aqua vita?, which is sixteen-pence 
 the quart. Is there sure warrant for this being 
 a real Good Friday and King Harry cramp 
 ring .P" 
 
 "Ay, marry is there. Sib; warrant of foot, 
 leg, and stomach, all of which have been well 
 indebted to it. Was it o' Saint Helen's day or
 
 94 THE TOE, HILL. 
 
 at Lammas that I was last seized with cramp, 
 as I was — " 
 
 " Slid, gossip, it matters not, for your black 
 Jack shall be filled, so Dickon write it down, 
 and put a label on the ring, and hang it in my 
 cupboard, for I am apt to be queasy and 
 qualmy o"* nights, and feel sometimes a strange 
 twitching in the calf of my left leg. — Why 
 how now. Goody Tapps, am I to fill your skil- 
 let with strong and nappy ale for this old 
 furred flocket and hood of Lincoln green, which 
 has been worn and turned till the threads show 
 themselves like so much withered hay. No, by 
 the mass ! I will not warm the stomach for 
 gear that will leave the back cold, so go thy 
 ways, goody, and keep thy skillet, that Gaffer 
 Tapps may have boiled porridge for his supper. 
 — What^ neighbour Stiles, pawn thy wedding- 
 ring to fill the twiggen-bottle ! here will be a 
 rare coil when the good man sees the white 
 mark on thy finger ! but gold 's gold : so, Dickon, 
 fill her pottle-pitcher, and set her name to the 
 yellow hoop, and away with it to the cupboard. 
 What's next, I wonder.? a spinning-wheel with
 
 THE TOE HILL. 95 
 
 flake and hackle. I' fackins ! neighbour mine, 
 not a drop upon this gear, for there 's so much 
 more drinking than spinning o' this hot weather 
 and gleaning time, that I might empty my vats 
 of good beer, and fill them, an I would, with 
 old rocks and distaffs." 
 
 " Sib, Sib, ye are in the right on't," said an 
 old woman bustling forward ; " for ye may 
 have that in pledge which is ready money, ay, 
 and better than money, all the world over." 
 So saying, she took a parcel from under her 
 arm, and unrolling a succession of wrappers, 
 in which it was carefully folded, exhibited a 
 little wooden box fashioned like a casket, which 
 she opened, and displayed its contents with an 
 air of great pride and confidence. " By cock 
 and pie ! Granny Stiles, this is rare foolery !" 
 cried Sib ; " Beshrew me an' I looked not for 
 jewels at the least, and here we have withered 
 camomile flowers, or dried senna, or some such 
 flummery, fit only for the doctor's shop. An 
 they were good hops now — " 
 
 " God pardon us all ! and amen !'' ejaculated 
 Granny Stiles, crossing herself and curtsying ;
 
 96 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 " are ye turned Pagan, that ye venture thus 
 profanely to jibe the real blossoms of the Glas- 
 tonbury thorn, with this holy certificate that 
 they are genuine ?"" 
 
 It was universally known in those days that 
 when Saint Joseph of Arimathea, during his 
 mission to England, arrived at Weary-all-hill, 
 near Glastonbury, he struck his travelling 
 staff into the earth, which immediately took 
 root, and ever after put forth its leaves and 
 blossoms on Christmas-day, being converted 
 into a miraculous thorn. This tree, which had 
 two distinct trunks, preserved its celebrity till 
 the time of Queen Elizabeth, when one of them 
 was destroyed by a Puritan, and the other met 
 the same fate during the great rebellion. At 
 the time of our history, its blossoms were es- 
 teemed, such great curiosities and sovereign 
 specifics, as to become an object of gain to the 
 merchants of Bristol, who not only disposed 
 of them to the inhabitants of their own city, 
 but exported them to different parts of Eu- 
 rope. This Sib well knew, and she liad there- 
 fore no sooner cast her eye upon the certificate,
 
 THE TOR HILL. 97 
 
 than she comphed with all Granny Stiles's 
 wishes, and carefully locked up the precious 
 deposit. 
 
 Besides these holy pawns, there were relics 
 for rain, for avoiding the evil eye, for rooting 
 out charlock, and all weeds in corn, with si- 
 milar specifics ; which, at this time, were con- 
 sidered the best of all property. Pledges, be- 
 sides, were offered in abundance, of a more 
 homely nature, such as grogram skirts, pole- 
 davy gowns, lockram aprons, and articles of 
 all sorts, some of whose owners she dispatched 
 well satisfied, sending others away thirsty and 
 grumbling, and having a ready and a sharp 
 word for all ; until her attention was arrested 
 by one of the old crones in the corner, who, 
 having lost her sole penny at tables, and pos- 
 sessing nothing pledgable, had recourse to an 
 expedient for satisfying her thirst, which she 
 had often practised upon former occasions, and 
 never without success. Lifting up her hands 
 with well-feigned amazement, and alternately 
 turning her eyes to heaven, and fixing them 
 upon the ugly urchin who was writing labels, 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 and making entries in an account-book, she 
 ejaculated with great fervour — "Oh the fathers ! 
 was there ever such another clever child ! Oh 
 the sweet imp ! Oh the pretty dandyprat ! Oh 
 the darhng, only look at him !" and then she 
 began singing in a tremulous cracked voice — 
 
 " By Saint Mary ouv lady, 
 
 Your mammy and your daddy, 
 Brought forth a goodly baby. 
 
 My dainty Dickon dear !" 
 
 Sib Fawcett's habitually sour and shrewish 
 features relaxed at these welcome sounds; she 
 eyed her boy with a doating expression, which 
 he returned with a sinister squint ; and then 
 filling a large horn by her side, and sending it 
 to the old crone in the corner, she exclaimed 
 with a smiling countenance — "Pledge you, Mo- 
 ther Trotman, pledge you. Isn't he a sweet 
 and clerkly youth ?'''' at this moment a younger 
 son made a hasty irruption into the room, bawl- 
 ing aloud, " Mother, mother ! there's the black 
 sow got into the mash-vat !" an intimation at 
 which Sib Fawcett started up in great wrath, 
 and seizing a staff, while she cried out "Pin-
 
 THE TOR HILL. 99 
 
 cher ! Pincher ! hey, dog, hey !" she hurried out 
 at the back-door, her shrill and angry exclama- 
 tions, which were presently mingled with the 
 loud barking of a dog, continuing audible long 
 after she was out of sight. Returning, however, 
 at length, she informed her guests that when 
 Father Barnabas had called at her door, last 
 Allhallowmass eve, for a half-pottle of ale, the 
 weather being sultry, he had placed it \ipon a 
 wooden bench while he wiped his forehead with 
 his cowl, when by evil hap, if not rather by the 
 instigation of the devil, the black sow came up, 
 and rubbing her back against the bench, upset 
 it upon the good father's tender foot, and spilt 
 the liquor : whereupon he cursed the beast, and 
 throwing the pottle at it, hit it upon the head. 
 From that moment she declared that the un- 
 lucky animal had done nothing but mischief; 
 having repeatedly thrown down her children, 
 broken a stone cruse of aqua vitas, killed the cat, 
 knocked the spigot out of a hogget of ale, grub- 
 bed up the fences, drunk up the milk, clambered 
 into the malt-tub, and now made her way into 
 the mashing-vat, so that if Father Barnabas did 
 
 F 2
 
 100 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 not speedily take off his curse, she verily believ- 
 ed she should be obliged to turn the beast into 
 bacon without further delay. 
 
 At this instant a loud, clear bass-voice chaunt- 
 ed from without, as if at mass-service — " Pax 
 vo-bis-cum !" when the remaining guests start- 
 ing up with pleased looks, exclaimed — " Here's 
 Friar Frank — here 's the merry friar — here 's the 
 good friar — we can swear to his noble voice, an 
 we heard it a mile off.'" And immediately after- 
 wards, in confirmation of these predictions, a 
 monk thrust his broad, heated, good-humoured 
 face through the casement, and looking round 
 him with a benevolent smile, again chaunted in 
 a tone that made the room ring — " Be-ne-di-ci- 
 te ! — How fare ye, gossips, housewives, ale- 
 wives, and toping tipplers all ?" he continued, 
 and was proceeding to address them severally by 
 name, when Sib Fawcett, with numerous curtsies, 
 invited him to enter, which he accordingly did, 
 apparently suffering from the heat, to which his 
 corpulent figure rendered him peculiarly sensi- 
 tive. *' By the cowl of St. Francis !"" quoth the
 
 THE TOR HILL. 101 
 
 friar, " a hotter day than this we have not had 
 since Perkyn Warbeck, the white-rose prince, as 
 he styled himself, fled from Taunton to Bewdley 
 Sanctuary, and his ribald soldiers, not consider- 
 ing what need we had of ale in such a smoking 
 season, plundered the abbey-cellar of its store. 
 Sib Fawcett, Sib Fawcett ! there is no quench- 
 ing this fever of the blood but by malt-liquor ; 
 but I come not now to claim my daily cannikin, 
 as you term it, though I may rather call it my 
 honorarium, for instructing my pupil Dickon in 
 spelling and scribbling ; I have silver pence in 
 my pouch, daughter. It pleased a certain Sir 
 Nicholas Hungerford, of the old time, (whose 
 soul God assoil !) to direct a mass to be said for 
 his repose after even-song on Teneber Wednes- 
 day by some godly and learned priest, which I, 
 (heaven help the mark !) being counted to be, 
 the mass was sung last night, the silver groat for 
 my fee was paid me this morning, we are all 
 parched in the palate this thirsty afternoon, and 
 thus, by pitcher and pottle-pot, I vow to dis- 
 burse the whole in ale, for the benefit of myself.
 
 102 THE TOll HILL. 
 
 and all other such good old women and gossips 
 as have not yet whetted whistle." 
 
 " Oh the blessed father ! Heaven speed the 
 merry monk ! Blessings on Friar Frank !" eja- 
 culated the women interested in the promised 
 benefaction ; while the others began to gather 
 round him in the hope of sharing his bounty, 
 though they were not included in his invitation. 
 
 " Sib Fawcett," continued the friar — " call 
 thy nimble tapster with the threadbare eye-lids, 
 bald brows, and sandy hair, and bid him draw 
 spigot from the best barrel; but let him not 
 hope to cheat us with frothy curtle-cans, nor 
 cruses, nor tragical black jacks, nor double- 
 dealing, hollow-hearted, false-bottomed, bom- 
 bastic jugs, for I will have nothing but the 
 honest six-hooped pot, full, and not foaming. 
 And harkee, daughter, no long ale, nor red ale, 
 nor ropy ale, but good and wholesome nappy 
 of Sib Fawcett's best brewage." As the hostess 
 bustled about with great alacrity, and an un- 
 usual pleasantness of visage, in execution of the 
 first ready-money order she had received dur-
 
 THE TOR HILL. 103 
 
 ing the whole afternoon, the six-hooped pot 
 was presently placed by the friar's side, when 
 calling around him those who had not been 
 previously recreated, he filled a lusty horn, and 
 presenting it to one of them, bade her empty it 
 at a draught, and then pronounce a benediction 
 for the founder of the mass-penny. " Mercv 
 for the soul of Sir Nicholas Hungerford !" 
 ejaculated the woman, smacking her lips when 
 she had done. " Amen !" quoth the friar, and 
 immediately crying out — " Super naculum !"" 
 the good gossip, who was accustomed to his 
 ways, turned up the edge of the horn upon her 
 thumb-nail to show that she had completely 
 emptied it ; when the deep voice of the friar 
 chaunted " Pla-ce-bo !"" — and the horn beinj; 
 replenished, was handed to another with the 
 same ceremonies, till the circle was completed, 
 after which he quaffed his own share with a 
 smack of evident enjoyment. Another round 
 exhausted the value of the silver groat, and 
 nearly brought the friar to the end of the 
 " Dirige,"" and the " De profundis,"" of which.
 
 104 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 with a levity that excited no irreverent emotions 
 in his auditors, however indecorous it might be 
 deemed at the present sera, he had chaunted 
 portions with great solemnity between every 
 fresh potation. 
 
 When this ceremony had been twice per- 
 formed, he tossed the silver groat to the hos- 
 tess, exclaiming — " By the five joys of our Lady ! 
 never was there a better exchange, than this 
 little dry dandyprat of modified earth, for half 
 a score moistened palates, happy faces, and 
 wagging tongues ; and if the good Sir Nicholas, 
 (whom Heaven assoilzie !) be the better for his 
 mass, by the mass ! so are we the better for his 
 groat, which we have put into Sib's crucible, 
 and melted into good ale. Ha ! it leaves a 
 pleasant flavour upon the lips ! But how now, 
 ye graceless gossips, as I will call ye, since ye 
 are tattling and sniggering before grace has 
 been said for your meal, will ye not hear the 
 priest return thanks for what ye have had ? 
 Silence then, ye ungrateful topers, while I pray 
 for future blessings of the same sort, since ye 
 are so reckless of the past." And then Avith
 
 THE TOU HILL. 105 
 
 deep melody of voice he struck up part of a 
 merry old monkish hymn : — 
 
 " O tu qui dans oracula, scindis cotem novacula/' &c. 
 
 exclaiming, when he had completed it — " My 
 scholar Dickon shall one of these days translate 
 the whole to you ; for he has a straitforward eye 
 to his book, although his strabismus, or squint, 
 occasioneth him to look askew upon the world. 
 Sib Fawcett, if thou hast a modicum of clarified 
 honey, or a globule of sugar-candy in the pew- 
 ter cup which thou keepest in the corner of 
 the locker, I pray thee give it me, for I have 
 trouled so lustily here, that I shall need it before 
 I reach the singing-desk of Glastonbury, to the 
 which I must presently pursue my journey." 
 
 At this intimation of his departure, the com- 
 pany crowded around him with a variety of 
 petitions and applications, that threatened to 
 detain him much longer in the neighbourhood 
 than he had first intended ; for the good friar, 
 as he was justly named, was not only the gene- 
 ral pacificator of the whole vicinity, and the 
 
 umpire in every rural dispute, but constituting 
 
 F 5
 
 106 THE TOR HTI.L. 
 
 himself the physician of the body, as well as the 
 soul, was consulted in all the ailments to which 
 the human frame is subject, from infancy to 
 age. To qualify him for these various offices, 
 he had ever at his side a wallet, in which, be- 
 sides the psalter and mass-book, he carried 
 divers pills, spasmadraps, cordials, and drops, 
 for his adult patients; as well as comfits, honey- 
 biscuits, saffron-cakes, and gingerbread-nuts, for 
 the recreation and mastication of children: to 
 say nothing of sundry lucky farthings and half- 
 pence, which, being distributed as he saw occa- 
 sion, were ever found to produce most salutary 
 effects. By these specifics, to which the large 
 crucifix appended to his rosary, and a few 
 relics hanging from his girdle were occasionally 
 brought in aid, he seldom failed to administer 
 relief to his patients, many of whom found his 
 scraps of Latin, although they did not under- 
 stand them, his cheerful looks and conversation, 
 and the melody of his fine voice, as he chaunted 
 a psalm or a hymn, at least as sovereign reme- 
 dies, as any of those that were contained in his 
 wallet. Nor was he less successful as a ghostly
 
 THK TOJi mix. 107 
 
 comforter ; for as it was one of his benevolent 
 maxims, that the poorer orders who generally 
 bear so much suffering, privation, and sorrow, 
 in this world, should at least be encouraged to 
 expect a better fate in the next, he took pains 
 to instil, into those whom he visited as a con- 
 fessor, such consolatory hopes and assurances, 
 as would smooth the bed of death, if they did 
 not, as was not unfrequently the case, materially 
 contribute to the restoration of health. 
 
 Such being the multiplicity of his avocations, 
 it will be no subject of wonder that the good 
 women, who had been so fortunate as to get 
 him in their neighbourhood, were in no hurry 
 to let him depart. Goody Tapps appealed to 
 him to visit with the wrath of the church a 
 foul-mouthed neighbour who had spoken scan- 
 dal concerning her, of which she was proceed- 
 ing to give a very angry and diffuse account, 
 when the friar interrupting her, exclaimed, — 
 " Tell the shrew, if she mend not her manners, 
 she shall sit in the ducking-stool, quia non 
 est bona conversatioms, neqiie bonce guberna- 
 
 tionis.''
 
 108 THE TOR HILL, 
 
 " There, my mistresses, there !" cried Goody 
 Tapps, striking her right fist upon the palm of 
 her left hand — "said I not so? By my fackins ! 
 I would call her every one of those names, an 
 I could but recollect them." 
 
 Neighbour Stiles implored him to visit her 
 sick son, if it were only to sing a psalm to him ; 
 declaring that the boy had an ear for music, 
 and had talked of nothing else since he had 
 heard the good father play upon the organ. 
 
 " Of a truth," said the friar, " I do value 
 myself for my skill in the instrument, (being 
 acquired,) more than for my voice, which is but 
 a natural gift ; although in my younger days of 
 vanity I remember to have composed my own 
 epitaph, which ran partly thus : — 
 
 ' Millibus in naille 
 Cantor fuit optimus ille^ 
 Praeter et haec ista, 
 Fuit optimus orgaquenista.' 
 
 But I am grown too old now to vaunt of my 
 poor powers, either vocal or manual, although I 
 may the sooner need an epitaph. Howbeit, the
 
 THE TOR HILL. 109 
 
 lad shall be visited, and I will sing him out of his 
 sick bed, as if he had been bitten by a tarantula ; 
 and if he has such a good ear as you aver, and 
 a voice thereunto, I may perchance pull him by 
 his auricle to Glastonbury, and assign him a 
 place in the quire.' 
 
 " Ah ! good friar Frank," quoth another of 
 the gossips — " there's my poor daughter Cicely 
 has been possessed and bcAvitched these three 
 days, and the devil that 's in her won't let her 
 pass the cross in the market-place, but ever she 
 turns up the lane in which young Wat Sta- 
 ples, the woolcoraber, sits singing at his work ; 
 and if I thought your good prayers might un- 
 bewitch her — " 
 
 " If !" interrupted the friar — " know ye not 
 that I have a special bull for this purpose, sub 
 plumbo of the Pope ?'''' Let her be at home on 
 the morrow after St. Simon and St, Jude, and 
 I will not fail to call and exorcise the spirit with 
 bell, book, and candle, and ejaculations of Kyrie 
 Eleison, and Christe Eleison, — and Saucte, 
 sancte, sancte, Domine deus Sabaoth !" 
 
 Such was the respect of the common people
 
 110 THE Toil HILL. 
 
 for the learning of those who understood Latin, 
 and their reverence for the language itself, 
 which was consecrated to all the offices of reli- 
 gion, that they were apt to think no extraor- 
 dinary change or cure of any sort could be 
 effected without its employment, and they felt 
 a proportionate confidence in the very sound of 
 the words, even where they did not understand 
 their import. It was not, therefore, from any 
 irreverent levity, nor for any purpose of delu-* 
 sion, that Friar Frank generally introduced 
 quotations of this nature, but that he might 
 avail himself of the popular weakness to inspire 
 a confidence, which was often m( re efficacions 
 than the measures, whatever they might be, 
 which he subsequently thought proper to adopt ; 
 althoug-h from lonf; habit he sometimes con- 
 tinued the practice almost unconsciously. In 
 the present instance, the good woman, whose 
 daughter was bewitched, departed in high spi- 
 rits, in the full assurance of a perfect cure for 
 her child, as soon as the morrow of St. Simon 
 and St. Jude should arrive. 
 
 The friar had entered minutes of all these
 
 THE TOR HILL. Ill 
 
 applications in a table-book which he had again 
 deposited in his comprehensive wallet, and was 
 about to take his departure, when, seeming sud- 
 denly to recollect himself, he exclaimed — " By 
 St. Joseph of Arimathea ! I had almost for- 
 gotten, good Sib, that though we have squared 
 accounts for the silver groat, I have not quaffed 
 my daily cannikin, or honorarium, for my little 
 scholar yonder ; and as it would not hke me 
 that so toward a lad should go backward in his 
 learning, I will for his sake discuss my cus- 
 tomary modicum of malt-liquor. Now tell me, 
 good Sib,*" he continued, with a lock of great 
 solemnity — " dost thou truly and conscien- 
 tiously believe that bonum additum bono facit 
 aliquid melius?" 
 
 " Ay, marry and amen, that do I," replied 
 the hostess — " and am ready to swear it upon 
 the book if you say it is sooth." " Why then, 
 good Sib," resumed the friar — " let this ale be 
 the same as the last, for it hath left a savoury 
 memory upon my lips. Didst thou not see, 
 my good hostess" — he continued when the li- 
 quor was brought him — " a conjuror at the
 
 11^ THE Ton HILL. 
 
 late fair who rendered things invisible by sleight 
 of hand ? Now shalt thou see how easily is the 
 same accomplished by sleight of mouth." — So 
 saying, he drank it off at a draught, girded his 
 belt and wallet, gathered up his gown, and was 
 about to take his departure, when the room 
 suddenly rang to the loud beating of a heavy 
 staff against the door, and the clamour of some 
 orte calling without, in an impatient voice — 
 " What ho, house ! house ! open door, ye deaf 
 and boozing bumpkins ! " 
 
 Uncourteous as were the terms of this man- 
 date, it was immediately obeyed by Sib Faw- 
 cett, when a heated and unbonneted man pre- 
 sented himself, whose figure and face, not less 
 than his imperious manner, gave intimation of 
 some personage of distinction, althougli the 
 quality of his habiliments was rendered utterly 
 undistinguishable by a casing of mud and clay, 
 which almost enveloped him from top to toe.
 
 THE TOR HILL. 113 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 'Tis an enclianted cave, by rare 
 Unseen musicians of the air. 
 
 Or syrens haunted ; — 
 This is no strain from lips of clay. 
 But some mellifluous roundelay. 
 
 By spirits chaunted. 
 
 Dudley, accompanied as we have already 
 stated by Pierre, bearing a whole wardrobe be- 
 hind him in a huge valise, had safely travelled 
 across the country in the direction of Somerset- 
 shire, until he found himself in the vicinity of 
 the Mendip hills, when remembering to have 
 heard from one of his kinsmen of the Tor, most 
 marvellous accounts of a formidable cavern 
 which they contained, known by the name of 
 Wokey-Hole, and finding that it would not occa- 
 sion a very material deviation from his road, he
 
 114 THE TOR HILL, 
 
 determined to take the present opportunity of 
 visiting it. For this purpose he turned his 
 horse's head towards the lofty range, consisting 
 of numerous heights, the sloping sides of which, 
 gradually shelving down to a point, approached 
 and receded in a most picturesqvie manner ; 
 disclosing the water in the valley between them, 
 which, being partially or totally intersected by 
 the bases of the hills, as they shot athwart it, 
 one behind another, gave it the appearance of a 
 succession of little lakes. In this quarter the 
 declivities were gentle and verdant, while the 
 i-ecently shorn sheep, being either gathered in 
 white chisters in the valley, or dotted about 
 upon the slopes, imparted to the whole a quiet, 
 pastoral, and pleasing air. No sooner, however, 
 had he gained the heiglits, and pursued the 
 ridge in another direction, than the character of 
 the scenery became totally altered; the whole 
 prospect before him was black, desolate, and 
 rugged ; the summits of the hills being covered 
 with large dark-looking knolls, and their sides 
 torn open by enormous fissures, which appear- 
 ing to have been produced by some convulsion
 
 THE TOR HILL. 115 
 
 of nature, and occasionally assuming the most 
 fantastic forms, bore altogether an appearance 
 at once whimsical and terrific. One of the 
 chasms that he encountered extended nearly a 
 mile in length, displaying to the eye a scene 
 truly awful and sublime. In many places its 
 rugged walls rose more than four hundred feet 
 in perpendicular height, and at others fell into 
 obliquities of double that elevation, whose sides 
 disclosed the yawning mouths of caverns, which 
 had acquired the reputation in the neighbour- 
 hood of being so many entrances to the infernal 
 regions. Above these portentous apertures 
 hung rocks of immense magnitude, blackening 
 by their shade the tremendous gulf below, into 
 which they appeared about to fall, and filling 
 the mind of the spectator with a mixed senti- 
 ment of horror and admiration. 
 
 Accustomed from his boyhood to military ex- 
 peditions into unknown districts, where he had 
 not only the localities to conquer, but to guard 
 against ambushes, and surprises of all sorts, 
 Dudley piqued himself not a little upon his 
 land-pilotage, and the skill with which he could
 
 116 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 reach any given point, the bearings of which had 
 been once made known to him. Instigated by 
 this vanity he had contented himself with ascer- 
 taining the direction of Wokey-Hole, and de- 
 cUned taking a guide, although he had been re- 
 peatedly assured that he Avas little likely to suc- 
 ceed without one. His knowledge of the quar- 
 ter in which the object of his visit was situated 
 availed him little, when, so far from his disco- 
 vering a single practical road that led to it, 
 he found himself repeatedly in situations of the 
 most imminent peril, by coming unexpectedly to 
 some impassable glen of swamp and rock, or 
 riding to the very edge of a precipice, down 
 Avhich he could not have been precipitated with- 
 out instant destruction. In such a dangerous 
 tract there was no advancing at beyond a foot- 
 pace, to Avhich, accordingly, their progress had 
 been for some time limited; and in this slow 
 manner they climbed up one height and down 
 another; winding, turning, and returning, till 
 their beasts began to get fatigued; and Dudley, 
 repeatedly baffled and disappointed in the con- 
 fident predictions, with which he commenced
 
 THE TOR HILL. 117 
 
 every new route, not only lost at length all 
 knowledge of the points of the compass, but, 
 what was much worse, began to lose his 
 temper. 
 
 To a man that is in the smallest degree irri- 
 table, and who thinks he has superabundant 
 excuse for being out of humour, there are few 
 things more provoking than the imperturbable 
 cheerfulness of a companion, who has precisely 
 the same cause as himself for being splenetic 
 and sulky. 
 
 In such a case, even his silent philosophy 
 is deemed a reproach, but if his gaiety be- 
 comes audible, it is a personal affront ; and it 
 was precisely in this latter piedicament, that 
 Dudley found himself placed with regard to 
 Pierre. Availing himself of the famiharity 
 between master and servant, which is allowed 
 by the customs of France, the latter, whose 
 countenance had been for some time evidently 
 getting saturated with suppressed laughter at 
 their repeated failures, had contented himself 
 with singing whenever they commenced a new 
 route —
 
 118 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 " Hanneton ! vole, vole, vole ! 
 Hanneton ! vole, vole, vole ! " 
 
 which old rural ditty he went through with 
 great animation, until, after many windings, 
 and as many assurances that they had at last 
 got into the right tract, they unexpectedly came 
 round to the very spot from which they had 
 taken their last departure. At this unexpected 
 consummation, the risibility which he had been 
 so long accumulating, exploded at once in a 
 peal that made the welkin resound ; and Dudley, 
 mortified at the man's superior good-humour, 
 though he chose to attribute his own anger to 
 the manifest want of respect in his servant, re- 
 buked him for his impertinence in no very mea- 
 sured terms. 
 
 " Pardi, monsieur,' exclaimed Pierre, ga- 
 thering up his risible muscles, which had been 
 stretched to their full dimension — " we always 
 laugh at these things in France.*" 
 
 " Then you are fools for your pains," said 
 Dudley, sternly — " surely our present predica- 
 ment suggests nothing to laugh at." 
 
 " Dame! monsieur — c'est pourquoi: any sim-
 
 THE TOR HILL. 119 
 
 pleton may snigger when there is a good cause; 
 mais rire quand on est an destspoir, ha, ha ! is to 
 make fortune look like a fool, and not our- 
 selves." 
 
 " Perhaps so," said Dudley, relaxing a little 
 from his wrath, " and there might be merit in 
 it, if it proceeded from philosophy, but where it 
 originates in mere constitutional gaiety — "^ 
 
 " We are always gay, nous autres,'''' inter- 
 rupted Pierre, — " Morgue, Piei^rot, morgue V^ 
 
 " Or where it proceeds from a stupid insen- 
 sibility," continued Dudley. 
 
 " Sans doute — there are such people among 
 the French," Pierre replied with a contemptuous 
 look, and a shrug that was meant to disclaim all 
 affinity with them, although it did but the more 
 incontestably establish his Gaulish origin. 
 
 " We must make another attempt to extri- 
 cate ourselves," said Dudley, striking spurs into 
 his beast — " or at least to encounter some living 
 being ; for we may chance otherwise to pass the 
 night here, and be fain to gnaw our spur-lea- 
 thers for dinner." 
 
 " J.^ la bonne heure — allonsT exclaimed Pierre,
 
 120 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 following his master, and commencing a new 
 song, which had apparently suggested itself to 
 hira by its jingling to the word gay. 
 
 " Morgu^, Pierrot, morgue, je suis en grand souci, 
 Catin me dit que j'aime tout a boire, 
 Qu'elle a bien de la peine a croire. 
 Que je puisse I'aimer aussi-" 
 
 The equanimity of Dudley's temper was by no 
 means sufficiently re-established to allow him to 
 enjoy, or even to tolerate this ditty, which he 
 had more than once endeavoured to suppress 
 by an authoritative exclamation of" silence!" 
 Pierre, however, had only lowered his tone, 
 without discontinuing the song, which seemed 
 to have such a charm in dispelling all unplea- 
 sant thoughts or associations, that he gazed 
 upon the wild and savage scenery around him 
 with as much complacency, as if he had been 
 riding up to the door of the best inn, and was 
 sure of the best cheer, that England could 
 afford. When Dudley, however, again stopped 
 his horse, on their arriving at the foot of a steep 
 and apparently inaccessible hill, his polite at- 
 tendant would not refuse to participate in his
 
 THE TOR HILL. 121 
 
 evident vexation, but exclaiming — " Peste ! we 
 have no such miserable country as this in 
 France," attempted for a few seconds to look as 
 unhappy as possible ; but immediately after, 
 relapsing as it were into himself, he burst out 
 into a new song — " Chantons V amour chantons!" 
 which he delivered with an energy that seemed 
 intended to bid defiance to fate. 
 
 Annoyed as he already was at being placed 
 by his own overweening confidence in a dilemma 
 that began to threaten very unpleasant conse- 
 quences, Dudley felt more than ever indignant 
 at the unseasonable and disrespectful merriment 
 of his companion, and was half-disposed to vent 
 some portion of his spleen by the instant exer- 
 cise of his horsewhip upon the shoulders of his 
 vocal varlet, when he was astonished at hearing 
 loud cries and wild peals of laughter, seeming to 
 proceed from a considerable body of men, and 
 sounding from the summit of the hill immedi- 
 ately before him. To this point he instantly 
 turned his eyes, but no human being, nor move- 
 ing object of any sort could he discover, and, as 
 a sudden silence had succeeded to the first rude 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 THE TOB HILL. 
 
 burst of merriment, he began to recal the legend 
 he had heard about the witch of Wokey Hole, 
 and her occasional visits to the Mendip hills, to 
 join in tlie fearful orgies, conjurations, and re- 
 velries of her sister hags, at their great annual 
 assemblage. Pierre, too, crossed himself de- 
 voutly upon the forehead and breast, and would 
 have repeated the whole of his paternoster, but 
 that he unconsciously broke off in the middle 
 into one of his rural ballads — " Colin mangeant 
 des artichaux!'* 
 
 A second loud shout of mingled cries and 
 laughter, echoing still more distinctly from the 
 summit of the hill, determined Dudley to climb 
 its rugged sides, and endeavour to discover 
 whence they proceeded. After two or three 
 vain attempts to find any practicable ascent for 
 his horse, he dismounted ; Pierre did the same ; 
 and having tied their jaded animals to some 
 bushes, they began to clamber up the precipitous 
 sides, which were not only broken into a thou- 
 sand inequalities, but crossed by deep and 
 dangerous fissures, and entangled with stunted 
 furze. With no little toil and risk they at
 
 THE TOR HILL, 123 
 
 length approached the top, the same wild up- 
 roar continuing and getting louder as they ad- 
 vanced, until at length, upon their gaining the 
 crest of the rocky height, a scene developed 
 itself which they were not less astonished to dis- 
 cover, than utterly at a loss to comprehend its 
 meaning. 
 
 Before them they beheld an abrupt and deep 
 incavation, whose rocky and rugged sides, ap- 
 parently blackened by the action of fire, might 
 have been well imagined to form the crater of a 
 volcano, but that upon a level plain at the bot- 
 tom of the hollow were seen a concourse of wild- 
 looking men, attired in dark dirty garments, and 
 forming a large circle round a low wooden hut 
 in the centre of the place. Anxious as Dudley 
 was to obtain some information that might ex- 
 tricate him from his present predicament, he so 
 little liked the ferocious looks of the band, that 
 he sate down behind a piece of rock, and desired 
 Pierre once more to cease his song, as he was 
 determined to watch the proceedings of this 
 banditti-like party, before he ventured to claim 
 their assistance. The little wooden hut was 
 
 G 2
 
 124 THE TOIl HILL. 
 
 surrounded with dry fern, furze, and other com- 
 bustibles ; a man, who appeared to be the leader 
 of the crew, was seen to wave a lighted torch 
 over his head ; and Dudley wondered what sort 
 of sacrifice was about to signalize these rites, 
 which seemed to be as savage as the region in 
 which they were celebrated. If such was the un- 
 favourable opinion he had formed from a mere 
 sight of the preparations, the purpose of these 
 rustic fanatics, (for such he suspected them to be,) 
 assumed a darker and atrocious character when 
 he marked their further proceedings. Their 
 chief ministrant had no sooner set fire to the 
 pile, than the whole party sent forth a yell, which 
 sounded the more horrible and incomprehensible, 
 from its being mixed with discordant laughter ; 
 while in the intervals of the uproar, he thought 
 he could distinguish the noise of blows that 
 seemed to be given with great violence by some 
 one imprisoned within the wooden hut ; sounds 
 which were received by the surrounding party 
 with increased shouts of merriment. 
 
 Is it possible, thought Dudley to himself, 
 that these villanous boors are ignorant and
 
 THE TOK HILL, 125 
 
 brutal enough to revive the horrid rites of the 
 ancient Druids; can they be so hardened as 
 not only to offer up human sacrifices, but tfj 
 contemplate the sufferings of their victims with 
 the heartless levity of demons ? Such was his 
 indignation at the very thought, that he was 
 balancing the propriety of interfering to pre- 
 vent the consummation of their diabolical pur- 
 pose, which could not now be much longer 
 delayed, as the whole circle of combustibles was 
 kindled and burning with much fury, when to 
 his horror and amazement the side of the little 
 hut was beaten down with a loud crash, and 
 out burst a man, habited like the rest of the 
 party, who dashed through the surrounding 
 flames, and ran with the wild speed of terror 
 up the rugged sides of the glen. A loud and 
 hideous yell resounded from the whole party, 
 as he broke from his wooden prison ; and, al- 
 though they showed no disposition to pursue 
 him, Dudley was still in doubt whether their 
 intended victim would be able to make his 
 escape, and ascend the height. He had, how- 
 ever, not only chosen a part that was more
 
 126 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 practicable than elsewhere, but leaping over 
 pits and fissures, and vaulting from crag to crag, 
 with the agility of a mountain-goat, had pre- 
 sently gained the summit, and approached the 
 rock, from behind which the travellers had 
 been watching his progress with the deepest 
 interest and amazement. Their astonishment, 
 however, as they marked his singed beard and 
 hair, and blackened clothes, which imparted to 
 his naturally gaunt and ferocious features a 
 character scarcely human, was almost equalled 
 b};^ that of the man at encountering two well- 
 dressed travellers in that wild and unfrequented 
 district. 
 
 " Fear nothing," said Dudley as he drew his 
 sword — " we are friends and Christians who 
 will defend you at peril of life against yonder 
 crew of miscreants and assassins. We have 
 horses under the hill, which may help you to 
 escape should the villains pursue you, provided 
 you can discover any road or practicable tract, 
 which we ourselves have been in vain seeking 
 for some hours past." In a rustic dialect that 
 rendered him at times scarcely intelligible, the
 
 THE TOR HILL. H7 
 
 object thus addressed, proceeded to state, in 
 answer to Dudley's inquiries, that he was now 
 in no apprehension of pursuit, that the hill 
 upon which they were standing was a celebrated 
 lead-mine, the deep and rugged excavation at 
 the top having been produced by extracting 
 the ore which was every where interspersed 
 with the rock ; and that the party from whom 
 he had just escaped were miners, or grovers, as 
 they called themselves, who, when they left 
 their work at night, deposited their tools in tlie 
 little wooden hut. By a rude law established 
 among themselves, they claim the right of en- 
 closing any person convicted of stealing these 
 implements, or any portion of them, in the little 
 tenement, which they surround with combusti- 
 bles, and setting fire to them, give the criminal 
 the chance of breaking out of his prison, forcing 
 his way through the flames to the ridge of the 
 excavation, and so making his escape, though 
 he is never allowed to resume work in that 
 mine. Through this fiery ordeal, which is 
 called the Burning of the Hill, it appeared that 
 the narrator had just passed, loudly protesting
 
 128 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 his innocence to his present auditors, and ad- 
 ducing his escape from any material injury as 
 an irrefragable confirmation of his assertions, 
 although his furtive physiognomy seemed 
 strongly to corroborate the charge. 
 
 Whatever might be his private opinion of 
 the man's guilt, Dudley expressed his indig- 
 nation at this lawless and barbarous mode of 
 punishment ; while Pierre, determined not to 
 acknowledge the perpetrators of such an out- 
 rage for his countrymen, exclaimed with a very 
 significant shrug — " Morbleu ! we have no 
 such savages in France." 
 
 Being invited to become their guide, for 
 which he was promised a suitable recompence, 
 their new acquaintance was now asked whether 
 they were at any great distance from the cele- 
 brated cavern of Wokey Hole, in reply to 
 which he informed them that its entrance was 
 at a very little distance, and that he was per- 
 fectly competent to direct them, as he was well 
 acquainted with all its passages, vaults, and 
 recesses. 
 
 " I thought I could not be much out in my
 
 THE TOR HILL. 129 
 
 reckoning," cried Dudley, "and that after all 
 we were in the right direction." 
 
 " Morbkur exclaimed Pierre, "Monsieur 
 was of the same opinion when we were going 
 the other way. jMais c'est egal. Hanneton ■' 
 vole, vole, vole f and so saying, he scudded down 
 the hill to get ready the horses, which they 
 presently remounted, and being enabled by 
 their present guide to discover that which they 
 had so long sought in vain — a practicable, 
 though somewhat rugged, bridle-road, they 
 were not long in reaching the object of their 
 expedition. On their approach to the entrance 
 of the cavern, the surface of the country con- 
 tinuing to be broken up into wild and irregular 
 masses, preserved the same character of mag- 
 nificence and grandeur ; while the greater pre- 
 valence of verdure, and the rich tints of va- 
 ricoloured mosses and heaths, with which the 
 crags were mantled, softened the scenery to 
 tlie eye, and seemed to throAv an expression of 
 beauty over its bold and rugged features. In 
 the perpendicular side of the hill before them, 
 was an oval cove or recess of considerable ex- 
 
 G 5
 
 130 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 tent, beneath which they beheld a natural arch, 
 thirty feet high, and forty broad, whence a clear 
 rapid stream leaping forth, burst away impe- 
 tuously over a rocky channel, fringed with a 
 variety of aquatic plants and mosses. Climbing 
 up a craggy terrace, under the direction of their 
 guide, they passed through the narrow moutli 
 of the cavern, and presently found themselves 
 in a spacious vault, the whole roof and sides of 
 which were encrusted with sparry concretions 
 of whimsical shapes. Hence they descended by 
 a narrow passage to another vault of smaller 
 dimensions, from which a low craggy and ir- 
 regular aperture conducted them to a spacious 
 area, the extent of which the light of the torch, 
 with which the guide had provided himself, did 
 not enable them to determine, although they 
 could ascertain that the roof was of a cylindrical 
 form. This, the man informed them, had been 
 the principal residence of the Witch of Wokey, 
 whose various utensils and animals, becoming 
 petrified by the lapse of time, and the perj^etual 
 dropping of water, had been incorporated, as 
 it were, with the cavern, and were most distinct-
 
 THE TOR HILL. 131 
 
 ly identified with sundry figures, projecting 
 from the roof and sides, or adhering to the floor. 
 On the authority of this rural eicerone, they 
 learnt, that during the reign of the witch-hag, 
 all the herbs around the cave were blighted, 
 and all the flocks in the neighbourhood blistered 
 and diseased ; that she had nine wicked fami- 
 liars, who always did her bidding by day, and 
 kennelled at her side by night, until at last one 
 of the former abbots of Glastonbury came in 
 procession to the cave, chanted a paternoster 
 in the midst of it, and having converted the 
 stream into holy water, by throwing his cross 
 into it, and blessing it, took some of it in his 
 hand, sprinkled the nine elves, one after another, 
 and turned them all into stone; in support of 
 which assertion, he pointed them out upon the 
 Hoor, and counted over the rocky lumps to prove 
 that there could be no mistake as to the number. 
 With stealing footsteps, a whispering voice, and 
 a look of deep awe not unmixed with terror, he 
 even led them to an alabaster-like mass, which 
 he maintained to have once been the witch her- 
 gelf, who, having inadvertently fallen asleep in
 
 132 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 her arm-chair, had been sprinkled with the holy 
 water, and petrified before she could again open 
 her eyes ; although by the low tone of his voice 
 he seemed to think it possible that she might 
 be still only in a deep slumber, from which any 
 irreverent clamour might peradventure awaken 
 her.* 
 
 The singular beauty and curious construction 
 of this cavern reconciled Pierre once more to 
 the notion of his being an English subject, and 
 he exclaimed with great emphasis — >•" Pardi ! 
 they have no such wonders in France." Dud- 
 ley, who seemed, in the novelty of the scene, to 
 find some consolation for the disappointment 
 and fatigue he had experienced in reaching it, 
 desired the guide to explore the utmost limits 
 of this subterraneous hall, which he accordingly 
 proceeded to do, although by his manner he 
 appeared to be still haunted with some mis- 
 givings about the witch, as he groped his way 
 into the darker penetralia of her temple. Ad- 
 
 * A ballad upon tliis subject will be found in the 
 first vol. of Percy's " Reliques of Ancient English Poe- 
 try," p. 328.
 
 THE TOR HILL. 133 
 
 vancing cautiously to the extremity of the vault 
 in one direction, he pointed to the silent limpid 
 stream of Wokey water, which here, meeting 
 with the vaulted rock, intercepted the passage, 
 and informed them that this spot was called the 
 witch's bath, beyond which there was no pos- 
 sibility of proceeding. As if, however, to give 
 an immediate refutation to this assertion, a loud 
 splashing was suddenly heard from within, and 
 they could dimly perceive some white object 
 swimming rapidly towards them, from beneath 
 the low dark arch formed by the rock as it im- 
 pended over the water, though nothing could 
 be distinctly recognized but two large bright 
 eyes, which seemed to absorb all the light that 
 penetrated the gloomy recess. — Coupling pro- 
 bably this doubtful apparition with some tra- 
 dition or tale of terror attached to the cave, 
 the guide had no sooner caught a glimpse of it, 
 than he shouted out in a voice of terror — " The 
 witch ! the witch !" and ran with all speed to- 
 wards the passage by which they had entered, 
 expecting, perhaps, that his companions would 
 follow. So sudden, however, had been his
 
 134 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 flight, and so much had Dudley been startled 
 by the indistinct object floundering in the water, 
 that, in his momentary irresolution how to act, 
 the man had nearly gained the farther extre- 
 mity of the vault, before he thought of pursuing 
 him to seize the light, and prevent their being 
 left in total darkness. When at length he 
 started after him for this purpose, he had 
 scarcely taken twenty steps, before he struck 
 against one of the projecting incrustations of 
 the floor, and was thrown down with consider- 
 able violence, catching one glimpse of the dis- 
 appearing torch as it flashed upon the waters, 
 when the whole place became instantly involved 
 in an impenetrable obscurity. He was consti- 
 tutionally brave, and had acquired besides that 
 habitual courage which arises from a soldierly 
 familiarity with danger in all its customary 
 forms ; but he was by no means so free frohi 
 those superstitious impressions, v/hich at that 
 time pervaded all classes of society, as to en- 
 counter supernatural antagonists with unshaken 
 nerves, or to possess his usual intrepidity when 
 he found himself buried alive, as it were, in a
 
 THE TOR HILL. 135 
 
 black vault, and exposed to the malignity of 
 the witch, who was perhaps at that moment 
 swimming down the now invisible stream to 
 assault him. Fortunately for his reputation for 
 valour, his wrath against the runaway guide, 
 and the pain of a contusion he had received in 
 falling, occasioned his passion to overmaster his 
 apprehensions, and a volley of abusive epithets 
 to supersede all expression of alarm at being 
 placed in so alarming a predicament. 
 
 Pierre, who was in momentary expectation 
 that the witch would land from the water and leap 
 upon his back, had no wish whatever to conceal 
 his terrors; but stood crossing himself and pray- 
 ing in great tribulation, until the sound of his 
 master"'s angry voice guided him to the fpot 
 where he was; when, in the joy of rejoining him, 
 he betook himself to his usual consolation, shout- 
 ing out with hearty good-will, — 
 
 " Colin mangeant des artichaux, 
 Dit a sa femme, ma mignonne, 
 Goutes en, ils sont tout nouveaux. 
 Par ma foi I'espece en est bonne." 
 
 As soon as silence could be obtained, Dudley
 
 136 THE Toil HILL. 
 
 desired him to listen, that they might learn 
 whether any thing were moving in the vault; 
 but they could hear no sound to break the deep 
 silence, but the agitated inspirations of Pierre, 
 who pretended he had sung himself out of breath, 
 and the guggling of the invisible water pursuing 
 its rapid course through the darkness. As the 
 silence continued, their confidence revived, when 
 a new subject of apprehension presented itself to 
 Dudley's mind. He began, to think that the vil- 
 lain of a guide had purposely decoyed them to this 
 extremity of the cavern, where he had seized a 
 pretext for abandoning them, that he might pos- 
 sess himself of their horses, and the large valise, 
 containing the rich wardrobe which he had col- 
 lected with so much care and cost in France. 
 This supposition was rendered more than proba- 
 ble, when he combined the fellow\s roguish phy- 
 siognomy with the punishment he had already 
 endured for imputed theft ; and, in the indig- 
 nation excited by the thought of being thus du- 
 ped, and exposed to such an irreparable loss, he 
 determined to lose no time in exploring his way
 
 THE TOR HILL. 1S7 
 
 out of the cave, that he might commence an im- 
 mediate pursuit. Taking a firm hold, therefore, 
 of Pierre's hand, for their mutual security in case 
 either of them should fall into the water, they 
 cautiously followed the sound of the stream, the 
 waves of which they remembered to have noticed 
 when they first entered the vault. 
 
 In this manner, occasionally stumbling over 
 the fragments of rock, with which the floor was 
 strewed, and at other times in imminent peril of 
 being precipitated into the water, they groped 
 their way to the opposite extremity of the vavilt, 
 without however discovering, although they 
 made repeated efforts for the purpose, the pas- 
 sage by which they were to deliver themselves. 
 By exploring the rock all round, Dudley made 
 sure of succeeding ; and they accordingly com- 
 menced this enterprize, with the alacrity of re- 
 newed hope ; but when, after surmounting a 
 variety of difficulties and dangers, they again 
 heard the water, and had reason to believe that 
 they had wandered back to the witch's bath, 
 their confidence abated, and a thousand vague 
 and undefined apprehensions began to visit their
 
 1S8 THE TOE HILL. 
 
 desponding minds, as they both stood in a tem- 
 porary irresolution as to what further attempts 
 they should make for their extrication. To add 
 to their distress, they were fasting after a long 
 and fatiguing journey ; and the sensations of 
 hunger, which they already began to experience, 
 by no means reconciled them to the anticipation 
 of an indefinite abstinence, which, unless some 
 new visitant came to disinter them, might ulti- 
 mately terminate in starvation. After a short 
 consultation together, in which, however, Pierre 
 stated his inability to suggest any thing for their 
 relief, because, as he said, •■* Pardi ! we have no 
 such villanous places in France,*' Dudley de- 
 clared that they must not relax their efforts, 
 while they had strength to make them ; and ac- 
 cordingly proposed that they should recommence 
 their search for the entrance-passage, with a 
 firm resolution to continue it until they succeed- 
 ed. For this purpose they again grasped one 
 another''s hands, and were about to start afresh, 
 when, with an astonishment that rivetted them to 
 the spot where they stood, they heard a voice of
 
 THE TOR HILL. 139 
 
 great sweetness, sounding from above them, 
 warble the following 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Echo, songstress of the air. 
 
 All excelling, 
 TeU me, viewless wanderer, where 
 
 Is thy dwelling ? 
 O rare ! 'tis here, 'tis there ; 
 Hark ! hark ! hark ! 
 
 Sweet ! to hear a human tongue. 
 
 And yet be lonely. 
 Nor fear the lurking Syren sung 
 
 To harm us only. 
 O rare ! 'tis here, 'tis there ; 
 Hark ! hark ! liark ! 
 
 Thine is a voice that never did 
 
 Deceive or flatter. 
 That cheers our gloom, yet when we bid 
 
 Will cease to chatter. 
 O rare ! 'tis here, 'tis there ; 
 Hark ! hark ! hark ! 
 
 Absent presence ! other self ! 
 
 Mine offspring rather. 
 How durst thou, little playful elf. 
 
 Thus mock thy father ? 
 O rare ! 'tis here, 'tis there; 
 Hark ! hark ! hark !
 
 140 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 Nay, gentle Echo, do not flee ! 
 
 Be not offended, 
 But let my solitude by thee 
 
 Be still attended ! 
 O rare ! 'tis here, 'tis there ; 
 Hark ! hark ! hark ! 
 
 Whatever might have been Dudley's first agi- 
 tated emotions, as a thought flitted across his 
 mind, that the witch, or some other supernatural 
 tenant of the cave, might have taken her more 
 appropriate station in the air, and was serena- 
 ding them from the roof of the vault, there was 
 something so bland, gentle, and soothing in the 
 tones of the voice, that, when its melody ceased, 
 he felt perfectly assured it had proceeded from 
 some good and benignant being. As he stood 
 in silent expectation that the dulcet strain might 
 be resumed, he rapidly revolved in his mind all 
 the tales he had ever read of syren, nymph, or 
 genius, doubtful to which class he should ap- 
 propriate this invisible vocalist; for he could 
 hardly admit the possibility that a daughter of 
 earth could find her way to any inner chamber 
 of those subterranean abodes, or be disposed to 
 make such dreary vaults echo to her solitary
 
 THE TOR HII^L. 141 
 
 song. As to Pierre, he found such delight in 
 encountering a singer of any sort, and especially 
 so sweet a one as the present, that, although he 
 firmly believed the sounds to proceed from the 
 real witch of Wokey, whom they had either dis- 
 turbed in the bath, or awakened from the sparry 
 arm-chair in which they had seen her immovably 
 petrified, he could not help whispering to his 
 master — " Morhleu ! monsieur, they have no 
 such sweet-voiced witches in France." 
 
 The song not being renewed, Dudley deter- 
 mined to apprise the vocalist of their presence, 
 and to solicit assistance for their deliverance ; 
 with which object he shouted aloud, but the 
 hollow echoes of his voice, reverberating faintly 
 from the adjoining vaults through which they 
 had passed, was the sole reply to his summons. 
 Again he repeated the cry, in which Pierre now 
 joined him ; but the sound died gradually away, 
 and a silence, rendered more deep and solemn 
 by this momentary interruption of its reign, once 
 more brooded over the impervious darkness of 
 the vault. 
 
 This songstress, whoever she .may be,'' ex- 
 
 i(
 
 142 THE TOE HILL. 
 
 claimed Dudley, " is scarcely as benevolent as 
 her melodious notes would lead us to imagine ; 
 for, though she cannot have escaped beyond the 
 reach of our voices, she seems little disposed 
 to give us aid. Wherefore, good Pierre, we 
 must e'en trust to our own exertions, and pro- 
 ceed without further delay to execute the pur- 
 ]x>se which her ditty interrupted.'"* To this 
 invitation Pierre replied b}' singing, " Allerte! 
 allerte ! allerte ! disoit p^re Gregoire ; " and 
 they set out upon a new attempt at exploring 
 their way out, not less disappointed than indig- 
 nant that their hopes should thus have been 
 raised, apparently for no other purpose than 
 that of mocking their distress. 
 
 They had not advanced many steps, when 
 they again stopped, upon Pierre's declaring that 
 he saw a faint light strike against the roof of 
 the vault, although it had again disappeared. 
 In a few seconds afterwards, Dudley himself be- 
 held it playing upon the lofty arch with the dim 
 and uncertain motion of a will-o'-the-wisp ; but 
 as it presently grew stronger, and fixed itself 
 against the side of the vault, they both cried
 
 THE TOR HILL. 143 
 
 out for help, and had the pleasure of perceiving 
 that the light appeared to be steadily approach- 
 ing. They were now enabled to discover an 
 opening in the side of the vault, at some height 
 from the ground, through which the rays 
 streamed; and as they watched the aperture 
 with the intense interest of men whose preser- 
 vation depended on the approaching succour, 
 they were at length delighted by the sight of a 
 torch, the bearer of which, gradually rising up 
 from a descent on the other side, till he stood in 
 the centre of the elevated opening, disclosed to 
 them the figure of a youth, habited in a rich 
 jerkin and tunic, and wearing his fair hair in 
 long curls down to his shoulders. 
 
 "Help, my good friend, help!" cried Dudley, 
 " for we have been deserted by our villain of 
 a guide, who has borne away our torch, and 
 left us in danger of perishing, since we cannot 
 discover any exit from this infernal cavern." 
 
 "Wait, wait!" replied the youth, with an 
 eager voice and benevolent look : and, imme- 
 diately running down the declivity on the other 
 side, suddenly disappeared, leaving a faint light
 
 144 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 glimmering upon the roof from his receding 
 torch, which slowly faded away until they again 
 found themselves in total darkness and pro- 
 found silence. An interval of most painful sus- 
 pense succeeded, for each minute seemed a 
 period that might involve their joint lives in its 
 slow and lengthened lapse. One after another 
 passed heavily on ; the stranger came not again ; 
 and as they began to be tormented with mis- 
 givings of their being deserted and left to perish, 
 their feelings can only be compared to those 
 of the shipwrecked crew, who, after seeing the 
 life-boat put off to their rescue, and come with- 
 in hail, are condemned to the misery of finding 
 that she cannot approach nearer, and with de- 
 spairing hearts see her tack about, and abandon 
 them to their fate. This desponding thought 
 was not, however, of long duration. The roof, 
 upon which they kept their eyes steadily fixed, 
 shortly became irradiated with a faint gleam of 
 the returning torch, which, approaching them 
 with more rapidity than before, soon rejoiced their 
 hearts by presenting to their observation the 
 figure of the youth. He stood for a moment in
 
 THE TOR HILL. 145 
 
 the aperture until he had hghted another torch, 
 which he had gone to procure, when holding it 
 against the side of the vault, and letting it slide 
 down so that it reached them unextinguished, 
 he exclaimed in a sweet voice, which immedi- 
 ately identified him with the mysterious vocalist 
 — " you will find the entrance to the passage 
 behind the crag by the water-side. Jjose no 
 time in making yovir escape, and God give you 
 well to fare ! " — At these words he bowed his 
 head, and again hurrying down the inner decli- 
 vity, was out of sight in an instant. 
 
 The parties whom he had thus essentially 
 served needed no recommendation to be prompt 
 in delivering themselves from the cavern. On 
 approaching the point indicated, they found 
 that on their previous search they had missed 
 the passage in their fear of the water, a circum- 
 stance which might have recurred twenty times 
 had they explored it in the dark, although they 
 now discovered it without the smallest diffi- 
 culty. Anxiety to be finally delivered from 
 these ominous vaults, and the hope of recover- 
 ing his valise, gave so much alertness to Dud- 
 
 VOL. 1. H
 
 146 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 ley's motions, that they quickly regained the 
 mouth of the cavern, and stood once more upon 
 the rocky terrace, where Pierre signalized his 
 escape, and his glad return to the sunshine, by 
 completing the ballad of Colin and his arti- 
 chokes, and shouting aloud, 
 
 " La BellCj avec un doux maintien, 
 
 Lui dit, mange les, toi que mon coeur aime. 
 Car ils me feront plus de bien. 
 Que si je les mangeois moi-meme." 
 
 Dudley, while he was thus occupied, had run to 
 the place where the horses had been left, and to 
 his great surprise, and still greater satisfaction, 
 found them quietly nibbling the grass, the valise 
 remaining unplundered, and not a soul appear- 
 ing^ to have visited the spot. On inquiring of 
 an old cripple stationed near the approach to 
 the cavern, who had supplied them with the 
 torch, he declared that he had seen their rustic 
 guide run away with great speed some time 
 before, and concluded that his company had 
 taken their departure in some other direction. 
 From this statement, Dudley was induced to 
 believe, that the fugitive was in reality as much
 
 THE TOR HILL. 147 
 
 terrified as he had appeared to be, and that he 
 had unjustly charged him Avith thievish propen- 
 sities in the present instance, however merited 
 might have been the punishment inflicted upon 
 him at the " burning of the hill." 
 
 Our traveller had already suffered too much 
 from the want of a guide to have any wish for 
 prosecuting his journey without one, but the 
 cripple was neither competent nor willing to 
 accompany them, nor could any one be found, 
 according to his statement, without going to the 
 village of Wokey, which was a mile and a half 
 distant. When he found, however, that they 
 were bound to Wells, he declared that no con- 
 ductor was necessary, as they would at a little 
 distance fall into a regular road, which they 
 could not possibly miss, and which would lead 
 them direct to the town. Upon these assu- 
 rances, coupled with minute directions for find- 
 ing the road in question, they resolved to pro- 
 ceed unaccompanied. Having therefore re- 
 freshed their horses, and stimulated rather than 
 appeased their own appetites by exhausting the 
 cripple's little stock of sun-burnt saffron cakes, 
 
 H 2
 
 148 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 they set forward, and falling shortly into the 
 track which had been promised them, they pro- 
 ceeded with the comfortable conviction of being 
 right in their course, as well as of having sure 
 and safe footing for their horses. 
 
 Relieved from all apprehension upon these 
 points, their thoughts had leisure to recur to 
 the adventure they had experienced in Wokey 
 Hole, of the mystery of which, they offered 
 various solutions, but all equally unsatisfactory. 
 Pierre was most at a loss to account for the 
 object they had seen floundering in the water : 
 it was not likely that the youth would thus 
 amuse himself only to terrify them ; and besides, 
 however dimly they had seen the figure, it was 
 certainly white; whereas the youth wore dark 
 garments, which exhibited no appearance of 
 having been recently wetted : — from all which 
 premises he very clearly deduced that it must 
 have been neither more nor less than the witch 
 herself, whose malignant spells they might 
 think themselves doubly fortunate to have es- 
 caped. Dudley puzzled himself in vain con- 
 jectures, as to the youth to whom they were in-
 
 THE TOR HILL. 149 
 
 debted for their deliverance. Who was he ? — 
 how did he gain that inner chamber.? — what 
 motive could he have for visiting it, apparently 
 for lengthened periods, since he was provided 
 with a supply of torches ? These were ques- 
 tions much easier suggested than answered, 
 as nothing whatever had transpired that could 
 assist in solving the difficulty. Short as "was 
 the glimpse obtained of him, he had observed 
 that his clothes betokened a person of condition, 
 although his pale and delicate complexion, and 
 the melancholy, yet benignant, expression of 
 his features did not indicate their possessor to 
 be gifted with either health or happiness. 
 
 These reflections were interrupted by Pierre's 
 exclaiming — '* Morbleu ! we have no such cow, 
 ardly runaways in France as that rogue of a 
 guide." 
 
 " You forget the Battle of the Spurs," said 
 Dudley, sarcastically. 
 
 " Eh, dame !" replied Pierre, who by chang- 
 ing his nominative pronouns seemed to imagine 
 that he changed his country — " they had our 
 English archers to run away from, who are
 
 150 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 somewhat more formidable than an old water- 
 witch. Mais, ecoiitez done. Monsieur ^^ he con- 
 tinued, anxious to have some set-off for the 
 Battle of the Spurs; — "you were not in Calais 
 when Culpepper, the under-marshal, brought 
 in six score French prisoners, one of whom 
 was bought by an English cooper, who re- 
 ceiving a hundred crowns for his ransom, 
 agreed to see him beyond the causeway on 
 his way back to Boulogne. Pardi, Monsieur ! 
 no sooner were they arrived there, than my 
 countryman, seeing no succour was nigh, took 
 the cooper prisoner, carried him to Boulogne, 
 and made him pay two hundred crowns to be 
 ransomed. — Ha, ha — Voila du courage— viola 
 de la Jinesse. Allerte ! AUerte! Allerte ! disoit 
 pere Gregoire."" 
 
 Dudley felt no disposition to interrupt this 
 song, or the half dozen that succeeded it, till 
 they began to descend from the range of the 
 Mendip hills, and beheld before them the 
 straggling city of Wells, when, observing 
 that the road made a considerable detour, 
 and being anxious on account of the fatigue
 
 THE TOR HILL. 151 
 
 of their horses to shorten the distance as 
 much as possible, he proposed that they 
 should cut across the sloping fields and mea- 
 dows that shelved down to the town, so as 
 to reach it by the most direct course. As 
 there were no enclosures to impede their pro- 
 gress, Pierre thought they could not do bet- 
 ter; and they accordingly quitted the track 
 and struck across the grass. It would have 
 been fortunate had it ever occurred to Dud- 
 ley, that there might have been good reason 
 for turning the road, which had, in fact, been 
 rendered inevitable, because the water that fil- 
 tered from the hills, arrested by an extensive 
 stratum of clay, had formed a succession of 
 dangerous bogs and quagmires, whose surface, 
 being thinly covered with grass and weeds, 
 prevented their being distinguished from the 
 more solid turf. Into one of those sloughs 
 was Dudley shortly precipitated, while Pierre, 
 anxious to avoid his fate by riding a little on 
 one side and at a quicker pace, plunged still 
 deeper into another, where the weight of his 
 heavily-laden horse, too much exhausted to
 
 152 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 make any vigorous efforts for its extrication, 
 occasioned it to be immoveably stuck. After 
 violent exertions the other horse succeeded in 
 floundering out, when Dudley dismounted, 
 and in his paramount solicitude for his valise, 
 desired Pierre to undo the straps and ropes, 
 and throw one of them to him that he might 
 draw it off, observing, that by lightening the 
 beast, they might, perhaps, enable it to rise. 
 This was accordingly accomplished, and the 
 precious trunk safely deposited upon solid 
 ground ; but the poor animal was still inca- 
 pable of moving ; and, to add to their embar- 
 rassment, Pierre now found himself so entan- 
 gled with the stirrup as to be unable to dis- 
 engage himself, his efforts for this purpose only 
 exposing him to the peril of deeper immer- 
 sion. In this emergency it was deemed best 
 that he should sit still, while his master rode 
 to the town to procure assistance ; but as if 
 it were fated that their expedition should be as 
 disastrous as possible, it was now discovered 
 that the other horse had so strained himself in 
 his struggles as to be utterly unserviceable, so
 
 THE TOR HILL. 153 
 
 that no alternative was left but that Dudley 
 should proceed on foot. Muddy as he was, he 
 was obliged to recover the road they had so in- 
 advertently quitted, and toil through the heat 
 with his bonnet in his hand, as he made the cir- 
 cuit to Wells. He had called lustily for assist- 
 ance as he advanced, but without effect, as the 
 men were all harvesting in another direction, 
 and this circumstance, combined with the impa- 
 tient anger engendered by his accident, had oc- 
 casioned him to thunder at the door of " The 
 Tables" public-house, and to alarm Sib Fawcett 
 and her inmates, in the manner related at the 
 conclusion of the last chapter. 
 
 H o
 
 154 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 He was a true light-hearted Gaul, 
 Who laugh'd, let good or ill befall. 
 
 With equal gladness ; — 
 Welcom'd whatever Fortune sent. 
 And found a plea for merriment. 
 
 Even in sadness. 
 
 AVhen our bemired and unlucky traveller 
 beheld a person in monkish garments in the 
 public room, and observed his broad face to be 
 radiant with benignity and good-humour, he 
 proceeded in more respectful terms to explain 
 the cause of his rude summons, and to solicit 
 the exertion of his authority over the lazy rus- 
 tics, that they might be compelled to hasten to 
 the assistance of his servant. " Why, my son 
 in the flesh,*' quoth the friar, " for such I may 
 well call thee, seeing that all flesh is clay, with
 
 THE TOR HILL. 155 
 
 which ingredient thou liast ah'eady begun to re- 
 incorporate, the lazy rustics, as thou terniest 
 them, are all labouring in the fields ; but had 
 the}' surmised that men with eyes in their heads 
 were to be gathered out of the slough ujwn 
 the hill, doubt not they would have left their 
 sheaves in the valley, and betaken them to the 
 sport of fishing fellow-creatures from the pool. 
 They are partly of my own flock, and I have 
 not neglected to teach them the duty of acting 
 as good Samaritans to the way-f arer ; ' Pasfotum 
 enim negligentia luporum est gaudium. Papa: ! 
 my son, I thought Arthur's slough was well 
 known to all the world, especially since the 
 rogue that stole the Abbot's strawberries was 
 lost and smothered therein." 
 
 " Such may be the doom of my servant and 
 his horse," exclaimed Dudley impatiently, " if 
 these rustics be not quickly summoned to their 
 aid." 
 
 " That were to lose time," said the friar, 
 " and is the less necessary, as we may do without 
 them ; wherefore, Dickon, my toward scholar, 
 hie thee to loose the bucket, and fetch me the
 
 156 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 well-rope, and tell Will Mattock, whom thou 
 wilt find shoeing my mule in the smithy, to 
 come back with thee." 
 
 " Imo, Domine Doctor Tleverende^'' answered 
 the urchin, pulling his forelock for want of a 
 bonnet, and instantly disappearing. 
 
 " Had I not warrant to call him a toward 
 scholar ?" exclaimed the monk smiling — " ay, 
 in good sooth, and so is his mother, for she is 
 learned and clerkly in brewing good ale." 
 
 Dickon now returned with the well-rope, ac- 
 companied by a sturdy, broad-shouldered, bulU 
 headed rustic, whose naked and hairy arms 
 gave promise of pulling at a dead weight with 
 the power and stubborn perseverance of a 
 buffalo. 
 
 " Ecce !" cried the monk — " I know Will 
 Mattock to be our stoutest tug-mutton at a 
 feast ; and I doubt not he will show as good a 
 stomach at dragging a man and horse out of the 
 mud, as the knuckle-bone out of a wooden dish." 
 Will sniggered and made a grunting noise like a 
 pig, as the latter occupation suggested itself to 
 his mind, while he signified his assent to the
 
 THE TOR HILL. 157 
 
 former by a silent nod of the head. These 
 preparations being made, the friar, in spite of 
 the numerous commissions with which he had 
 ah'eady been charged by the good gossips of 
 Wells, declared his intention of accompanying 
 the present expedition, and seeing it brought to 
 a happy conclusion, informing Dudley, as they 
 proceeded, that he was himself no mean perfor- 
 mer at pulling a rope, having often rung the 
 great bell Joseph, at Glastonbury Abbey, with 
 one hand, though there were many who could 
 not accomplish it with two. In spite of the heat 
 of the weather, the corpulency of his person, 
 and the weight of his capacious wallet, the 
 good father stepped forward at a rate that sur- 
 prised his companion, until he told him that 
 the quagmire in which they had been plunged 
 was really of a very dangerous nature, having 
 destroyed more men than the stealer of the 
 Abbot's strawberries, whose fate might rather 
 be considered a judgment. " Qui ambulat in 
 tenebris, nescit qu6 vadit,"" he exclaimed — " had 
 you been thus entrapped in the dark it were 
 little marvel, but in the day-light there are few
 
 158 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 but the blind who step into the pitfall." Dud- 
 ley confessed that it was his own fault, on 
 which account it would be more distressing to 
 him, should his servant perish in so miserable a 
 manner, and without any of the consolations of 
 religion, which latter clause he added rather 
 out of compliment to his spiritual companion, 
 than from any particular sympathy with Pierre. 
 " Inter pocula et labra," replied the friar — " or 
 as the vulgar give it — 'Twixt cup and lip 
 there's many a slip, as you found to your cost 
 when you thought Wells was within reach of 
 your teeth ; but grace is as instantaneous as 
 error or accident ; wherefore I hold him to 
 have a godly epitaph, who, being killed by a 
 fall from his horse, gives this inscription upon 
 his tomb-stone : 
 
 Betwixt the stirrup and the ground, 
 Mercy I ask'd, mercy I found — 
 
 although it is better rendered in Latin upon 
 one who slipped from a bridge and was drown- 
 ed—" Misericordia inter pontem et fontem." 
 Whence it is clear that your servant will have
 
 THE TOR HILL. 159 
 
 had time enough, without any spiritual inter- 
 vention, to procure pardon of his sins." 
 
 Dudley was just expressing his hope that 
 they should find him extricated from the quag- 
 mire, when Dickon, who had run forward with 
 the rope, came scampering back with great ter- 
 ror in his looks, and proclaimed that the gen- 
 tleman who had fallen into Arthur's Slough 
 had gone stark staring mad, for he wore ear- 
 rings like a woman, and though he was sing- 
 ing and chattering as fast as a magpie on a dung- 
 hill, Dickon could not understand a syllable 
 of what he was uttering. By this time Pierre's 
 voice became audible, singing with a rapidity 
 and energy that implied his situation to be 
 either exquisitely pleasant or desperately for- 
 lorn, for he always made both extremes meet 
 by a song. On approaching him, it was found 
 that he had the latter plea for his vehemence, 
 for, in disengaging himself from the horse, he 
 had floundered into so much worse a part of 
 the bog, that he had sunk up to the chest ; and 
 though he was still gradually getting deeper in 
 the clay, he continued shouting with as much
 
 160 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 vigour as if he feared that he should hardly 
 have time to complete the second verse : 
 
 " Un cceur qui soupire est dans le delire, 
 J'aime bien mieux rire — quel cruel martire ! 
 Je brave un empire, ou de vains soupirs 
 Tiennent lieu de plaisirs." 
 
 *' My son, my son,"" cried the friar, " if we 
 save thy life now by one halter, I prophecy thou 
 wilt never lose it by another, for thy features 
 are debonair and blithesome, as if thou wouldst 
 rather frighten away death by a laugh than in- 
 vite him by a groan, and such are not the faces 
 that wear the hangman''s ruff; wherefore, my 
 chirping mud-lark, seize the rope without delay ; 
 but put it beneath thine arms, for fear of ac- 
 cident." 
 
 Pierre put the noose around his body in the 
 manner directed ; the party who had come to his 
 rescue seized the other end ; the friar, in order 
 that their efforts might be simultaneous, timed 
 them by singing out a loud " De pro-fun-dis ;' 
 and in this manner, by four stout pulls, they 
 hawled up their prize and dragged him upon
 
 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 161 
 
 the firm soil; when he jumped upon his legs, 
 shook himself, and, as if determined not to 
 speak the language of a country which con- 
 tained such villanous bogs, returned thanks to 
 his deliverers with all the volubility and gesti- 
 culation of a true son of France. " Dang-'ee,"" 
 cried Will Mattock, after he had gazed at him 
 for some time in silent amazement, " had I 
 know'd'ee to be a Vrenchman, cogswounds ! Fd 
 ha' let 'ee sink into the slough, gold ear-rings 
 and all, to go and look vor vrogs. Ho ! ho !" 
 " Bien des remercimens^'' exclaimed Pierre, and 
 then turning to his master appealed to him 
 whether they had any such savages in France. 
 " Those who massacred the adventurers at 
 Ouaste," replied Dudley, " had surely as good 
 title to that name : but where has your horse 
 strayed to, for I see he has got out of the 
 
 bog r 
 
 " And I saw him sink down into it," answer- 
 ed Pierre ; " for he plunged to yonder pool, 
 where his head disappeared about ten minutes 
 ago. Pardi ! he cannot say I deserted him.
 
 16^ THE TOR HILL. 
 
 for I was following him as fast as the soft mud 
 would let me, until you stopped me on my jour- 
 ney." When Will Mattock learnt that the ani- 
 mal in question was of Kentish breed, and a 
 stout roadster, he seemed quite overcome by 
 the melancholy reflection that they should have 
 arrived too late to preserve its life, and yet in 
 good time to pull out the Frenchman ; observ- 
 ing that he would rather have saved one of its 
 iron shoes than both the Monseer's gold ear- 
 rings. At the request of the friar, however, he 
 cheerfully undertook to carry Dudley's heavy 
 valise down to Wells; it was accordingly hoist- 
 ed upon his broad shoulders, which seemed 
 scarcely conscious of their load, and in this 
 manner they trudged back towards the town, 
 Pierre leading his master's lame horse. 
 
 Dudley accidentally mentioning as they pro- 
 ceeded, that he was travelling forward to Sir 
 Lionel Fitzmaurice of The Tor, 
 
 " Sir Lionel Fitzmaurice !" exclaimed the 
 friar, stopping short and crossing himself. — 
 " Saint Mary defend us, marry and amen ! Am 
 I then walking with a friend of Sir Lionel's i^*"
 
 THE TOE HILL. 163 
 
 " I know him not, nor have I ever seen him," 
 replied Dudley ; " though I am charged with 
 a message to him of some importance." 
 
 '' 'Ware the hawk — Vare the hawk !" cried 
 the friar ; " and if thou art a soldier, as thou 
 sayest, remember it is wise to have a buckler 
 against a battle-axe, and a southern bill against 
 a northern bassard ; and recollect that a hint 
 to-day is better than a help to-morrow. Ad 
 praesens ova eras pullis sunt meliora." 
 
 " Thanks, good father, even for the hint ; but 
 that it may the better speed me, I would fain 
 know the nature of the danger against which it 
 is to guard me." 
 
 " Bone Deus, my son ! in these parts folks 
 scarcely dare whisper to their own hearts what 
 they think of Sir Lionel, and am I to babble 
 of him to a stranger ? Dickon, my child, tarry 
 behind us, and walk with Will Mattock and 
 yonder man of clay, who, if the sun holds thus 
 hot, will be nearly turned to earthenware before 
 we reach the Tables. No, my son," he conti- 
 nued, addressing Dudley in a lower tone of 
 voice, " perhaps I have been rash to have put
 
 164 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 thee on thy guard, wherefore I shall only say, 
 trust not his smiles, nor what he may say unto 
 you with his face, for there is nothing in him 
 that speaketh but his tongue, and his tongue 
 serveth but to conceal the language of his 
 heart." 
 
 " So may he well be distrusted," observed 
 Dudley ; " but why he should be thus deeply 
 feared, I do not see." 
 
 " You see not the devil nor the powers of 
 darkness, and yet you do well to fear them, and 
 those who are leagued with them. You know 
 not what manner of man is he, of whom we are 
 speaking, nor may I more plainly tell you. In 
 the bidding prayer, we pray for all archbishops 
 and bishops, and all abbots, priors, monks, 
 canons and friars, and all men and women of 
 religion, as well as for all parsons and curates, 
 vicars, priests, and clerks, and for all good 
 christians, more especially for them that give 
 to the church, book, bell, or candle, chalice, 
 vestment, surplice, water-cloth, lands, rents, lamp, 
 or light ; and yet when we have thus done, we
 
 THE TOR HILL. 165 
 
 have not prayed for Sir liionel Fitzmaurice of 
 The Tor." 
 
 " By your account, good father, he seems to 
 be in bad odour with the church, and I doubt 
 not he may be a perilous or profane personage, 
 but I am bound to him upon a friendly errand, 
 and have none but a staightforward message to 
 dehver." 
 
 " The friendly and the straightforward are 
 the most likely to become his foes, and hitherto 
 his foes have ever been his victims ; wherefore if 
 thine embassage end, as is most likely, in sharp 
 words and brandished swords, fight not with 
 him unless he swear the oath of the trial by 
 battle — ' This hear, you justices, that I have 
 not upon me either bone, stone, or glass, or 
 any enchantment, sorcery, or witchcraft, where- 
 by the power of the word of God might be in- 
 leased or diminished, and the deviPs power in- 
 creased — so help me God and his saints !' Had 
 this been heeded to by the Lord Dawbeney, 
 or Sir Launcelot Wallop, or Master Trevor, 
 they might have been enjoying this bright sun,
 
 166 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 and riding at the present moment about their 
 parks and manors, instead of lying in the 
 church-yard with the hole of Sir LionePs sword 
 through their bodies." 
 
 " Good father, I shall have Kttle need of 
 encountering him angrily either with tongue 
 or steel ; and thus, however fearful he may be, 
 I dread him not, knowing my purpose to be 
 honest, and trusting to Heaven and my good 
 angel."" 
 
 " Do so, and may they give thee well to fare ! 
 but once more beware the bad angels of The 
 Tor ; for as some of the fathers have surmised 
 that the hot fountains of the Bath are supplied 
 by the tears of the fallen spirits, verily I should 
 not marvel if the well-head were to be found 
 within the domain of Sir Lionel Fitzmaurice. 
 Salve ! Peace and safety be with you ! Lay 
 these tidings to your heart, and at matin-mass 
 or even-song, fail not to repeat after the priest — 
 A cacitate cordis, libera nos, DomineP'^ — So say- 
 ing, the friar turned aside in order to mount his 
 mule, and execute the various benevolent com- 
 missions and visitations, of which he had minutes
 
 THE TOR HILL. 167 
 
 in his little manuel, leaving Dudley, as he pro- 
 ceeded with his companions towards Sib Faw- 
 cett's, to meditate upon the dark and mysterious 
 intimations he had received respecting Sir Lionel 
 Fitzmaurice. 
 
 For these cogitations, however, but little time 
 was allowed him, as they presently reached the 
 house, when having seen his precious valise 
 bestowed in a place of safety, he was ushered 
 by Sib Fawcett into an inner apartment, whik 
 Pierre, taking his seat upon the form in the 
 public room, was supplied with a-loaf of meslin 
 or rye bread, a slice of Taunton cheese, and a 
 foaming tankard of ale, on which sumptuous 
 repast he made an immediate and unsparing 
 
 a.LX/aQK.4 
 
 While he was thus occupied, such of the 
 gossips as remained, reinforced by some of 
 their daughters, and a few rustics who had 
 strayed in, attracted by Will JMattock's report 
 that they might see a Frenchman with rings in 
 his ears, who had been dragged out of Arthur's 
 Slough, stood around him at his meal, the 
 whole party making clownish mock of the un-
 
 168 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 usual golden appendages, laughing at his muddy 
 plight, and saluthig him with every species of 
 gibe, jeer, and insult that could be directed 
 against his country in general, and himself in 
 particular. All this had no further effect upon 
 Pierre, while he continued discussing his repast, 
 than to occasion an accumulation of laughter 
 and good-humour to spread itself over his fea- 
 tures, so that when he had emptied the tankard, 
 and arching his black brows half-way up his 
 forehead, looked round him with a smile, that, 
 while it disclosed his large white teeth, seemed 
 to fill every wrinkle and dimple of his face with 
 fun, frolic, and good hum.our, its expression 
 was too broadly comical to be resisted, and his 
 persecutors simultaneously burst into a peal of 
 laughter. There was still something contemp- 
 tuous in the merriment, but their undefined feel- 
 ings of hostility presently yielded to his uncon- 
 querable vivacity and kindliness of heart, as he 
 started, up, snapped his fingers, and first sang 
 and danced by himself, and then presenting his 
 muddy figure and hand to one of the younger 
 damsels, invited her with a mock ceremonious-
 
 THE TOR HILL. 16i> 
 
 ness to become bis partner. Tbe sbrieks of tbe 
 wencbes, and tbeir eager struggles to avoid con- 
 tact witb bis muddy clotbes, as, witb a look of 
 ineffable comicality, be pursued tbem round tbe 
 room, politely tendering bis discoloured band, 
 and bumming a Frencb dance — tbe loud cack- 
 ling and cougbing of tbe gossips, witb tbe deep 
 cbuckle of tbe boors, wbo were bugely deligbted 
 at tbe distress of tbe women — combined witb 
 tbe jaunty air of tbe mud-bedaubed Pierre as 
 be slid bis foot along tbe floor and continued 
 bis unacceptable courtsbip, formed altogetber 
 a scene wbicb could not be contemplated witb- 
 out participating in tbe mirtb of tbe actors, and 
 wbicb justified tbe boisterous uproar of merri- 
 ment tbat made Sib Fawcett^s wbole tenement 
 re-ecbo to its clamour. 
 
 Tbat important personage in tbe meanwbile, 
 was by no means in sucb good-bumour, or so 
 well pleased witb ber guest, as ber customers 
 in tbe public room were witb bis bappy-dispo^ 
 sitioned and amusing servant. Like most of 
 tbe young gallants wbo bad spent any time in 
 France, Dudley bad returned witb an unmea- 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 sured contempt and distaste for every thing 
 English, a feeling in some degree warranted by 
 the indisputable inferiority of our countrymen 
 at that period, in almost all points and pursuits 
 that tended to the embellishment of existence, 
 and in many that ministered merely to its com- 
 forts. All the more ingenious and delicate 
 manufactures that were carried on, even in Lon- 
 don, were in the hands of foreigners, a circum- 
 stance which had often occasioned clamour and 
 sometimes tumult among the clumsy natives; 
 so that there was then some excuse for that patro- 
 nage of fashion which was limited exclusively 
 to articles of foreign product. Such are the 
 changes in national modes and habits, that our 
 neighbours were at that aera as superior to us 
 in the accommodation afforded by their inns 
 and public-houses, as they now confessedly fall 
 short of us ; and Dudley, who had been not a 
 little annoyed by this circumstance during his 
 cross-country journey into Somersetshire, was 
 prepared for a new shock to his fastidious 
 nerves and temper, at every new inn that he 
 entered. The bad odour of the public room.
 
 THE TOR HITX. 171 
 
 predominating over even the effluvia emitted by 
 the mud with which he was bespattered, had not 
 tended to molhfy the ill-temper generated by 
 his accident ; and his look and tone were not 
 therefore a whit more ingratiating than his lan- 
 guage, when he exclaimed to Sib Fawcett — 
 " Good woman, if you have any chamber 
 sweeter than a hog-sty, or any provisions fitting 
 for a Christian to eat, it would like me to see 
 them.'' 
 
 The person thus discourteously addressed, 
 who from the consciousness of a substantial 
 store of royals and nobles, in addition to her 
 thriving trade, had the feeling of independence 
 to back the natural shrewishness of her disposi- 
 tion, was so little disposed to submit meekly to 
 this indignity, that she replied with the face of 
 a turkey-cock, and in a voice scarcely more mu- 
 sical—" Hogsty, quotha ! marry come up, and 
 dainty enough too, an it were, for such a good- 
 man Jakes as thou art. Fit for a Christian to 
 eat ? Gadamercy ! thou art more like Mahound 
 in a stage-play than a good Christian : and 
 many a better gentleman, I trow, has held it 
 
 i2
 
 172 THE TOll HILL. 
 
 toothsome fare, to dine upon a trencher of mam- 
 mocks, and a horn of dead small-beer with flies 
 in it." As Dudley foresaw, by tlie countenance 
 and sturdy bearing of his hostess, that he might 
 chance to diminish rather than increase his 
 accommodation by huffing and hectoring, he 
 found it not only expedient to soften his tone, 
 but producing a heavily lined purse, under pre- 
 tence of seeing that he had not lost any of its 
 contents, he declared that if he found his pre- 
 sent quarters comfortable, he might probably 
 prolong his stay for several days, or at least 
 until his horse was sufficiently recovered to pro- 
 ceed. This intimation produced so sedative am 
 effect upon Sib, who, though rather vixenish in 
 lier temper, had ever a prudent eye to the main 
 chance, that she assumed a mollified look, and 
 crying out " Meg ! Meg 1 bring fresh rushes 
 and clean linen into the Horn Chamber," pro- 
 ceeded herself to show him the way to the 
 apartment. This room was the one up-stairs, 
 to which we have already alluded, as having 
 its two latticed windows furnished with horn 
 shavings, a piece of luxury and distinction
 
 THE TOR HILL. 173 
 
 from which it had derived its appellation. Nei- 
 ther the dim yellow light, however, which this 
 substitute for glass allowed to penetrate, nor 
 the appearance of the bed in one corner of the 
 place, were at all calculated to propitiate Dud- 
 ley, who exclaimed with a distasteful counte- 
 nance — " Surely, hostess, you have something 
 better than this miserable flock for a weary 
 man to lay his bones upon." 
 
 " Ods pittikins ! my master," cried Sib ; " I 
 would wager a tester ye 're one of those dainty 
 palliards from abroad, who can fancy nothing 
 unless it be new-fangled, and who must be cock- 
 ered and coddled, and sleep as soft as an ab- 
 bot's lap-dog. Marry, there be many can re- 
 member the day, though I am but a youngster 
 myself, when travellers were fain to lie upon a 
 straw pallet with a simple coverlet of dags- 
 waine, and a good round log under their heads 
 for a bolster, as the best yeomen did in the 
 land ; and these were the men, I trow, who won 
 some of the stoutest towns in France. If the 
 richest farmer in Somersetshire has a sack of 
 chaff to rest his head upon, he holds himself
 
 174 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 to be as gingerly bestowed as the lord of the 
 manor ; whereas you have a pillow, — which none 
 should require but a sick marmoset, — stuifed 
 with feathers from my own poultry ; and here 
 comes Meg with clean slieets of lockram, and 
 fresh-gathered rushes, and what would ye wish 
 for more.'' 
 
 " Nay, I knew not, my good hostess, that I 
 was so sumptuously cared for, but when you 
 ask me what I would wish for more, I answer 
 that I have fasted long, and travelled far, and 
 it would like me well to know the contents of 
 your larder." 
 
 " Mass ; there is every thing in it that ye can 
 hope to find on a scambling day, as this is. I 
 have neither chet loaf, nor manchets, nor tren- 
 cher-bread of white wheaten ; but there 's as 
 good ravelled bread and meslin as ever was 
 chewed, ay, and wholesome bran-bread, though 
 I warrant me ye wouldn't touch it. If ye fancy 
 a rare Taunton cheese, I have one that would 
 tickle the King's tooth, and ale of my own tun- 
 ning to drink with it, which ye shall dream of 
 for a week after tasting it."
 
 THE TOR HILL. 175 
 
 a 
 
 But as for fish, flesh, or fowl ?"" — said Dud- 
 ley mquiringly. 
 
 " By the rood ! ye may have them all three, 
 and all of the best, for there is salt ling in the 
 tub, a fleck of brawn newly killed in the 
 larder, and as for fowl ye may have your choice 
 of the poultry that ye hear cackling in the back 
 yard, and Dickon shall kill it in a minute." 
 
 " No hen shall need to die for me," said Dud- 
 ley, " if I may carouse upon her eggs instead, 
 which, with the good cheer you have mentioned, 
 I would fain behold as soon as I am in fitter 
 plight for doing honour to it." His valise was 
 already carried into the chamber, he was fur- 
 nislied with proper apparatus for performing 
 his ablutions, and Sib Fawcett having informed 
 him that his nag should fare as proudly as its 
 master, since she could supply three loaves of 
 horse-bread for a penny, made of good peas, 
 beans, and lawful stuff, withdrew to give direc- 
 tions for the dinner, or rather supper, of both 
 parties. While discussing these weighty points 
 with her guest, she had been not less surprised 
 than scandalized at the prodigious uproar below,
 
 176 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 which she thought calculated to give her new 
 visitant an unfavourable impression of her house, 
 and perhaps to shorten his stay. It was, there- 
 fore, with a face of more than usually waspish 
 expression, and in a shrill voice of predominant 
 sharpness, that she exclaimed as she bounced 
 into the public room, where the merriment occa- 
 sioned by Pierre was kept up with unabated 
 clamour — "Why, how now, ye roystering knaves 
 and rampant beldames ; does the ale-sop dance 
 in your noddles, that ye keep up this pestilent 
 coil ; as if ye were so many bedlamites at a bear- 
 baiting ? The Tables is an orderly house and 
 an honest, not a morrice-booth, I trow, nor a 
 bordello for drunken trampers and their screech- 
 ing joans. Beshrew me, an I do not send for 
 the constable, if ye silence not this rantipole 
 hurlyburly." 
 
 Pierre, however, the principal author of the 
 confusion, was so far from being appalled by 
 this menace, that advancing up to its wrathful 
 utterer, he took her by the hand with an air of 
 burlesque politeness, and whirling her gently
 
 THE TOR HILL. 177 
 
 round and round, as if in the performance of a 
 waltze, hummed a French air, to which he 
 adapted his own steps with a gracefuhiess that 
 was rendered ridiculous by its contrast with his 
 mud-enveloped figure. " Begone, thou French 
 carrion, thou dunghill jackanapes, thou be- 
 spattered scarecrow !" cried Sib, with increased 
 anger ; but Pierre, dropping upon one knee, 
 pressed her imprisoned hand to his heart, heaved 
 a deep sigh, and looked up into her for- 
 bidding and love-repelling face, with such an 
 expression of ludicrous and ineffable tenderness, 
 that even Sib could resist no longer. She re- 
 laxed into an involuntary smile, exclaimed — 
 " Devil speed the fellow ! was ever such ano- 
 ther mountebank fool !" and disengaging her 
 hand, ran hastily out of the room, in order to 
 conceal the titter which was ready to burst 
 from between her compressed lips. 
 
 Animated by this victory over the hostess's 
 habitual sourness, especially after the petulant 
 threats she had just been launching against 
 themselves, the whole party broke into a new 
 
 I 5
 
 178 THE TOR HILL. ■ 
 
 peal of laughter, and continued their merry 
 gambols until Pierre''s fatigue compelled him to 
 make his bow to the assemblage, and recruit 
 his strength, after the exertions of this eventful 
 day, by betaking himself to his straw pallet for 
 the night.
 
 THE TOR HILL. 179 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Bear-ward and carrier here you have. 
 Men, horses, bruin, in a cave. 
 
 Each other fright'ning. 
 Silence ! ye brawlers, when ye 're bid ; 
 What ! will ye wrangle thus amid 
 
 Thunder and lightning? 
 
 Before he arose on the following morning, 
 Dudley's thoughts reverted to the strange cau- 
 tions he had received respecting Sir Lionel Fitz- 
 maurice, and though he suspected much of the 
 friar's prejudice to have probably arisen from 
 some omission of the annual offerings at the 
 shrines of St. Mary, or St. Joseph of Arimathea, 
 in whose wealth and splendour the worthy father 
 was interested, he determined, before he took 
 his departure for The Tor, to sound his hostess 
 upon the subject. He had seen sufficient proof
 
 180 THE TOK HILL, 
 
 that her house was a place of general resort? 
 and concluded that the good ale-topers who fre- 
 quented it would be sure to possess her with all 
 the scandal of the neighbourhood, well knowing 
 the freedom with which the lower orders ge- 
 nerally, and such gossips in particular, canvas 
 the characters and actions of their superiors. 
 As soon, therefore, as he had finished his break- 
 fast, he sought an interview with Sib, whose 
 natural acerbity of look and manner was a little 
 softened by the prospect of retaining so unusual 
 a customer, and inquired whether she could 
 enable him to liire two goodly steeds, for him- 
 self and servant, as his own was still lame, and 
 he had occasion to visit Sir Lionel Fitzmaurice 
 of the Tor, without delay. 
 
 The redness which was usually confined to the 
 good woman's nose, spread itself over her whole 
 face as she made the sign of the cross, and ex- 
 claimed, " Heaven shield us ! perhaps you are 
 a friend of Sir Lioners." 
 
 " No, indeed,"" replied Dudley, somewhat sur- 
 prised that she should make the same inquiry 
 the friar had done, as if the prejudice extended
 
 THE TOR HILL. 181 
 
 to all his friends, as well as to the knight him- 
 self. "I am a perfect stranger to Sir Lionel." 
 
 *' Then why, o' heaven's name^' should you be 
 going to the Tor House .'"' 
 
 " I have business there that may be soon 
 dispatched, when I may perhaps return to re- 
 new acquaintance with your good ale. But you 
 speak as if there were danger in passing the 
 threshold of the Tor House. Know you aught 
 acjainst Sir Lionel ?"" 
 
 *' Who, I ? Marry, heaven forfend that I 
 should utter syllable against him. He is a 
 knight, and a justice of the peace, and a rich 
 and pov/erful and right worshipful gentleman, 
 and they must have stout hearts, and sharp 
 swords, that would dare ta gainsay it." 
 
 " If rumour speak sooth," resumed Dudley, 
 " he himself wields a keen and cruel sword. I 
 have heard, that the Lord Dawbeney and two 
 others, whose names have slipped me, were done 
 to death by him." 
 
 " God's pity, Sir ! and so they were, and as 
 brave and christian gentlemen as any in these 
 parts, but it v/as all in the vfay of fair and lion-
 
 182 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 Durable combat ; and sad it is to think that our 
 knights and squires should spill one another*'s 
 blood in the duello, when they may have as many 
 Frenchmen to fight with, by only crossing the 
 water, as the most ruffling blade could wish for." 
 
 " The subject of their quarrels is of course 
 well known,"" observed Dudley. 
 
 " Ay, that I warrant me it is to them that 
 inquire," replied the cautious Sib, — "but this is 
 ticklish matter, wherewith I neither meddle nor 
 make. I may have my own thoughts as well as 
 another, but. 
 
 When the rain raineth, and the goose winketh, 
 Little wotteth the gosling what the goose thinketh. 
 
 " So, Sir, I will send Dickon for the good steeds 
 you spoke of, and as for Sir Lionel Fitzmaurice 
 of the Tor, I say once more, Heaven forbid I 
 should deny him to be a right honourable kniglit 
 and a worshipful justice of the peace." 
 
 Suspecting that she knew more about him 
 than she thought it prudent to disclose, Dudley 
 endeavoured to detain her, and extract if possi- 
 ble some further information i but she no sooner
 
 THE TOR HILL. 183 
 
 perceived his design than she took fright, par- 
 ried all his questions, or professed a total igno- 
 rance, and seized the excuse of a sudden noise 
 for running away, proclaiming her apprehensions 
 that the unlucky black sow was again playing 
 the mischief in the brewhouse. The only new 
 intelligence he had been able to gather was, that 
 Sir Lionel had a daughter of fresh and stately 
 beauty, though it was the fashion on that side 
 the country to hold her somewhat over-proud 
 and haughty; an imputation, however, which the 
 wary Sib protested to be perfectly unmerited in 
 her opinion ; as she had once stopped at the 
 Tables to refresh her horse, when she tossed a 
 penny to Dickon, smiled upon him graciously, 
 and had been evidently much struck by his 
 sweetness of look and briskness of attendance. 
 
 The horses having been brought to the door 
 for inspection, and received Dudley's approba- 
 tion, Pierre was ordered to array himself in his 
 handsome French Hvery, which had been for- 
 tunately deposited in the valise, while his mas- 
 ter retired to his own room to settle the impor- 
 tant point of what dress he should select for his
 
 184 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 first visit. In that age of costly magnificence, 
 when nobles vied with each other in the extra- 
 vagance of their wardrobes, and it was not un- 
 usual to exhaust the produce of a manor upon 
 a single suit of clothes, this was a more mo- 
 mentous consideration than it might now appear. 
 Dudley had been present at the celebrated in- 
 terview between Henry and Francis the First 
 of France, in the field of the cloth of gold, 
 when the English monarch himself had set the 
 first example of that boundless profusion, and 
 almost incredible gorgeousness of personal ap- 
 j^earance, which had not only ruined many of 
 his nobles at the time, but pervading all the 
 better classes of society, had diffused r. rage for 
 splendid apparel which it became ultimately 
 necessary to check by sumptuary laws. Dud- 
 ley's youth and less prominent station had pre- 
 cluded any particular display in that great 
 rivalry of glistering gawdiness, but he had 
 there imbibed a taste for foppery and finery not 
 likely to be abandoned by one who had plenti- 
 ful means for its gratification, and who belong- 
 ed to the army, a class that has ever been among
 
 THE TOE HILL. 185 
 
 the most ardent votaries of personal decoration 
 and splendour. Fortunately for its more tri- 
 umphant display upon this occasion, it was not 
 the fashion for the mihtary, even when out 
 of their accoutrements and trappings, to wear 
 mourning for relations killed in battle, so that 
 Dudley, whose vanity had been stimulated to 
 present himself to the best advantage before Sir 
 Lionel's daughter, was not restrained in its in- 
 dulgence by the recent death of his uncle. 
 
 His figure was remarkably good, a circum- 
 stance not likely to be overlooked in his selec- 
 tion ; but it was necessary also to evince his 
 taste by the novelty, and his command of mo- 
 ney by the richness, of his habiliments. After 
 due consideration of these combined claims, he 
 arrayed himself with great solemnity and de- 
 liberation in a suit of murrey satin, the dou- 
 blet embroidered all over, as well as the panes 
 of the hose, with seed pearl and gold lace ; his 
 cloak was of russet uncut velvet, lined with 
 satin, and richly laced ; his girdle and hanger, 
 scabbard, hat, and band, were of suitable co- 
 lours, and the richest materials ; and his em-
 
 186 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 broidered shoes were copiously furnished with 
 roses, points, and golden tags. Part of these 
 equipments were entrusted to Pierre, to be put 
 on when he should reach the Tor ; and as the 
 remainder was little calculated for the public 
 gaze, or a horseman''s wearing, he threw over 
 the whole a travelling surtout, putting loose 
 wrappers about his legs that resembled our 
 modern over-alls. 
 
 Thus enveloped, he showed scarcely so brave 
 and gay as his servant, who wore a doublet of 
 yellow million fustian, one half buttoned with 
 peach-coloured buttons, and tlie other half laced 
 downwards; peach-coloured hose, with small 
 tawny lace; a grey hat, with a copper edge, 
 and peach band ; watchet stockings ; and a 
 vesey-coloured cloak, guarded with black cloth, 
 and twisted lace of carnation, and lined with 
 crimson baize. To assist his toilette, his master 
 had kindly spared him a modicum of his French 
 ointments of perfumes, so that when Pierre, 
 thus scented and apparelled, recalled his be- 
 spattered and unsavoury plight upon the pre- 
 ceding evening, he could scarcely believe in his
 
 THE TOR HILL. 187 
 
 personal identity, until he assured himself of 
 that desirable fact by commencing " Colin man- 
 gearit des artichaux^ which he sang all through 
 with prodigious loudness and animation, and 
 tlien treated his master with a da-capo. 
 
 Concluding that Sir Lionel dined at twelve, 
 which was then the customary hour with the 
 nobility and gentry, and not wishing to present 
 himself until after that meal, Dudley started 
 about noon, so that he was exposed with all the 
 garments and coverings we have described to 
 the full heat of the meridian sun. Accustomed 
 as he had been to carry harness, beneath which 
 it was usual to wear a suit of leather, thickly 
 quilled, padded, and provided with cushions to 
 prevent the galling of the armour, it may be 
 supposed that he was proof against the fiercest 
 rays, when emancipated from such ponderous 
 burthens. It was not, therefore, from any incon- 
 venience occasioned by the sun, although swel- 
 tering beneath embroidered doublet, lined cloak, 
 and thick surtout, that he confined his horse to 
 a walking pace, but from an apprehension that 
 any unseemly heat might unbecomingly affect
 
 188 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 his personal appearance, and perhaps derange 
 the economy of his dress. While proceeding in 
 this leisurely manner, picking his way to avoid 
 the dust, and take the benefit of the shade, he 
 beheld at a little distance the townsfolks of 
 Wells collected together on a common and 
 shooting at the butts, a practice which was en- 
 joined by act of parliament to be observed 
 upon holidays, and at every other convenient 
 time. He directed his horse towards them in 
 order to observe their exercise, coming up j ust 
 as the sturdy Will Mattocks, having prepared 
 his long bow for a random shot, cried aloud— 
 " Fast !" a signal which every archer was 
 obliged to give before loosing his arrow, in order 
 that the people around might have warning to 
 stand fast. " Ho, ho !" cried Will when he 
 saw that he had passed the mark, and had out- 
 shot all his competitors — " Cogswounds ! Leigh, 
 the Wigan lawyer, that shot a mile in three 
 flights, could na do better than that'n. — Dan- 
 ge' all, wilFee beat that'^n ? Not one on"'ee by 
 the mass, and I shall be Duke of Shoreditch for 
 the day, ho, ho!"
 
 THE VOE HILL. 189 
 
 As He turned round at this exclamation, he 
 beheld Pierre; when dropping his under-jaw, 
 and fixing his eye upon him for some time with 
 a stare of stupid wonder, he at length slapped 
 his hand upon his thigh, and ejaculated — 
 
 " Ods bodikins ! thee be'est the Vrenchman 
 I pulled out o' Arthur's slough, vor all thy 
 jackadandy jacket. What ho, my merry bow- 
 men, loosen string, and quit butt, and coom 
 look at this'n Vrench javell wi' hoops in his ears." 
 At this summons the rustics, quitting their ex- 
 ercise, surrounded him as they had done at 
 Sib Fawcett's, mocking and mowing, and burst- 
 ing into clownish laughter, and saluting him 
 with the grossest epithets ; not content with 
 which, one of them goaded his horse in the 
 flanks, so as to make it caper and plunge, 
 Pierre, who was by no means an expert horse- 
 man, attributing these prancings to the animal's 
 impatience to depart, tried for some time to 
 soothe it by patting its neck, and coaxing it 
 with exclamations of " Eh Men! que veux tu 
 dona? Attends! attends V expedients which 
 only increased the merriment of the boors, and
 
 190 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 encouraged them to continue tormenting the 
 beast. Dudley was so highly amused by his 
 man's awkward efforts to retain his seat, as well 
 as the grotesque expression of his face, wherein 
 a wish to appear more than usually gay and 
 nonchalant was evidently mixed with a consi- 
 derable portion of distress at the capricclos of 
 his steed, that he suffered these manoeuvres to 
 last longer than he would otherwise have per- 
 mitted. At length, however, Will Mattocks, 
 naturally brutal, and elated by his recent tri- 
 umph in shooting, transferred the goadlngs of 
 his arrow from the horse to his rider, whom he 
 ventured to spur sharply in the calf of his leg. 
 This pointed joke Pierre endured at first with 
 only a sudden start, and an exclamation of 
 *' Comment .'" but he had no sooner discovered 
 the nature and the author of it, than he raised 
 his riding staff and let it fall on Will's bull- 
 head with such a hearty accost that the blood 
 jpurted from the wound. 
 
 "'S wounds and 'snails!" cried the infuriated 
 rustic, " will 'ee zufFer English blood to be spilled 
 o' thafn, by a Vrench dog wi' hoops in 's ears .''
 
 THE TOE HILL. 191 
 
 Coom on, my masters ! Dang'ee, tuoad, we**!! chuck 
 'ee into a worse place than Arthur's slough." 
 
 *' Down with the Mounseer ! down with him ! 
 St. George for England !" was echoed by his 
 companions, some of whom brandished their 
 bows, while others were hastily stringing them, 
 and gathering round Pierre with angry cries 
 and menacing gestures, when Dudley, drawing 
 his sword, and spurring into the midst of them, 
 exclaimed in a loud voice, " Fall back, ye dung- 
 hill knaves and ruffian grooms ! ye were rightly 
 served if ye had all a broken coxcomb like yon- 
 der churl, in reward for your red-lattice ribal- 
 dry. Loose bridle, thou blustering caitiff! or 
 by our Lady, thou shalt not have a hand to hold 
 with." At these words, and the uplifted rapier 
 that accompanied them, Will Mattock removed 
 his grasp from Pierre's bridle, and the whole 
 party dre;v together for their mutual protec- 
 tion, without any appearance, however, of having 
 abandoned their hostile intentions, until Dudley 
 continued, " We are bound towards a justice of 
 the peace hard by, and we will not be stopped 
 by such a clownish crew ; but if any of ye feel
 
 192 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 aggrieved, ye may e'en trudge forward with us to 
 Sir Lionel Fitzmaurice." 
 
 Nothing could be more sudden and subduing 
 than the effect produced by the mention of this 
 name. Turning instantly round, that their 
 faces might not be recognized, several of the 
 party hurried back to the butts, and resumed 
 their exercise ; others vailed bonnet, drew their 
 feet along the grass, and humbly asked pardon; 
 and. one after another the whole assemblage had 
 sneaked away, except Will Mattock, whose late- 
 ly furious expression was now altered to one of 
 submission, and even terrified intercession, as 
 he stood twiddling his thrum-cap with both 
 hands, and exclaimed to Pierre—" Now, lord 
 love'ee, Mr. Mounseer Vrenchman, doan't'ee 
 mention my name to Zir Lionel-— doan't'ee 
 now r 
 
 " Pardi, mon brave homme,'" said Pierre, 
 stretching out his arm, and shakiag hands with 
 him, " v/e are now such good friends, that I care 
 not ever to mention your name, or see your face 
 again. ^^ 
 
 " Thank'ee, thank'ee, kindly," replied the
 
 THE TOR HILL. 193 
 
 rustic, and returned to his companions with a 
 less chop-fallen air, Avhile Pierre, looking first 
 on one side, then on the other, v/ith a smirk of 
 infinite good-humour and vivacity, trotted after 
 his master, singing aloud 
 
 " Eh, Palsangue Pieri'ot, boutte bas ton chagrin." 
 " Certes," thought Dudley to himself, as he 
 pursued his way, " if this Sir Lionel knew how 
 to overawe the gentry by his sword, and the 
 clergy by his character, although I cannot dis- 
 cover what it is, it should seem that he ex- 
 ercises no less mysterious a control over the 
 vulgar, since the very mention of his name suf- 
 fices to make the peasants cower and quail, 
 even in their most chafing moods. If his dark 
 deeds had earned him this fearful reputation, 
 I should hear them named. Illegitimate by 
 birth, and moderate in fortune, he can have no 
 power, except as the friend and representative of 
 my late uncle, which may have been sufficient 
 to raise him to the magistracy, but will not in 
 any way account for this wide-spread and yet 
 undefined apprehension. Surely some idle and 
 absurd superstition attaches itself to his name, 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 of which he is perhaps unconscious, and at 
 which he himself would be the first to lauo-h. 
 But I shall soon be enabled to form my own 
 opinion, for yonder, in the plain, I see the vast 
 and venerable pile of Glastonbury Abbey ; 
 above it, on the height, rises the lofty Tor 
 of St. Michael ; and the battlemented walls 
 and towers by its side are doubtless those of 
 the Tor House, wherein this formidable ogre 
 liolds his court. Be he giant or magician, infi- 
 del, or cannibal, wizard, necromancer, or demon, 
 I will storm his castle ; though I fear that when 
 I have once passed the drawbridge, the en- 
 chantment, according to established usage, will 
 be dissolved, aud I shall find Sir Lionel neither 
 more nor less than he was represented by my 
 good hostess of the Tables — a right special 
 and honourable knight, and a worshipful justice 
 of the peace." 
 
 Indula-ing: in these ruminations, he had now 
 advanced so near to the Tor House, as to have 
 a distinct view of its antique style of architec- 
 ture, when it became evident that nature was 
 about to refresh the earth, after" the oppressive
 
 THE TOR HILL. 195 
 
 sultriness of the morning, by a storm. Clouds 
 suddenly springing up from different points of 
 the horizon, obscured the sun as they converged 
 towards each other, squally gusts of wind ruf- 
 fled up the dust, and even small particles of 
 stick and straw, into little circles and eddies, 
 some of which were borne upwards to a con- 
 siderable height ; the swallows and other birds 
 flew screaming past them ; the bellowing cattle 
 scudded across the meadows and fields in search 
 of shelter — while a few scattered and unusually 
 large drops of rain, indenting the dust which 
 they were not numerous enough to allay, an- 
 nounced the near approach of the tempest. 
 
 Foreseeing that it would be severe, and 
 anxious to avoid the smallest soiling of his new 
 French suit, Dudley looked anxiously around 
 in search of secure shelter, when he observed 
 that the peasants, quitting their work, were 
 hurrying towards a round-looking rock, at some 
 little distance a-head of him, to which several 
 travellers were also seen hastenino; from differ- 
 ent directions. Concluding that they had the 
 same object as himself, he spurred forward, and 
 
 K 2
 
 196 
 
 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 presently reached Hollow-stone point, a place 
 which had been originally, as its name indi- 
 cated, nothing but a projecting stone, although 
 such excavations had been subsequently made 
 beneath it, for the purpose of procuring stones, 
 that the recess would afford safe shelter to a 
 considerable assemblage. When Dudley reach- 
 ed it, he found several persons, some on foot 
 and some on horseback, collected within it, but 
 he was enabled without difficulty to place him- 
 self and Pierre in perfect security from the rain, 
 which now fell in torrents, and being collected 
 b}' the sloping rock above, descended in a sort 
 of mimic waterfall over the opening. In this 
 situation he remained, gazing at the heavy show- 
 er, with that expression of forlorn resignation 
 which our countrymen are so often called upon 
 to assume under similar circumstances, while 
 Pierre, having dismounted, was kissing his horse, 
 and laughing heartily at his own conceit as he 
 sang ^^ Aimez-moi, comme je vous aime ^ when 
 all the animals in the place began to snort and 
 tremble, and shrink to the extremity of the
 
 THE TOR HILL, 197 
 
 recess, with signs of terror, for which their 
 owners were utterly unable to account, until a 
 large muzzled bear was led by his keeper into 
 the place, followed by half-a-dozen mastiffs. 
 Among those already snugly sheltered within, 
 was a carrier with three stout pack-horses, laden 
 with wool, and bound for the Bath. These 
 bulky beasts becoming restive at the unwelcome 
 intrusion of the hairy savage, and shaking the 
 bells in their heads, and snorting in a manner 
 that alarmed their owner, he called out in no 
 very courteous tone — " What, ho ! you tramp- 
 ing ronyon, troop off with your Sackerson and 
 his curs, for see you not that you are scaring 
 better beasts than yourself?"" 
 
 " Ods-niggcrs !"" replied the fellow thus ad- 
 dressed ; " what saucy customer is this ? What 
 the foul fiend ! are such snipes as you to creep 
 under the dry stone, while the king's bearward 
 stands in the rain ?" 
 
 "• The King's bearward?"' resumed the car- 
 rier — " which king, trow, for we have two in 
 these parts, the King of the Hill and the King of
 
 198 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 the Valley ; or, in other words, Sir Lionel Fitz- 
 maurice of the Tor Hill, and the good Abbot 
 of Glastonbury." 
 
 " Troth ! and they say we have two in Lon- 
 don — King Cardinal Wolsey, and King Henry 
 the Eighth ; which latter I own for my master, 
 and here is his badge upon my arm, and I and 
 Sackerson and my dogs are ready to fight for 
 him against all comers of equal weight and 
 number, wherefore we hold ourselves as Avell 
 entitled to a dry corner as any such sheep-snip- 
 ping craven as thou art." 
 
 " Mass ! I wish your bruin were where he 
 came from, and yourself wearing his chain, or 
 baited by the dogs, as many a better brute has 
 been. So ho, Dobbin ! gently. Ball, gently ! 
 back. Wall-eye, back ! By 'r lady, here will be 
 mischief, an you put not forth Hairy-hide, for 
 my pack horses eat good corn, and no man can 
 hold 'em when it likes 'em to break loose." 
 
 " Was ever such a doddipate as this?" ex- 
 claimed the bearward, — " that expects full- 
 bellied horses to be governed by an empty- 
 headed ass. Turn their noses to the dark cor-
 
 THE TOR HILL. 199 
 
 vier, thou peremptory gull, that they may not 
 see the beast^ or their jangling bells may be 
 likely to frighten Bruin, as they have already 
 set the dogs a-howling." The carrier did as 
 he was recommended : the other horsemen, see- 
 ing the good effects of the movement, imitated 
 his example, and a comparative quiet succeed- 
 ed to the discord of jingling bells, snorting 
 horses, howling curs, and vvrangling men, of 
 which the bearward availed himself to conti- 
 nue the conversation. " Which of ye, masters, 
 mentioned Sir Lionel Fitzmaurice of the Tor 
 Hill, for thitherward am I bound, understand- 
 ing that, on the morrow after the Assumption, 
 he presides at the annual bull-chase in these 
 •parts, and I would fain know whether he is a 
 lover of the bearward's sport, and likely to give 
 him profitable welcome, which I am told he can 
 well afford to do." 
 
 " Marry they have told you truth," said the 
 carrier, " for all the manors hereabout that be- 
 long not to the King of the Valley, belong to 
 the King of the Hill, who must have what likes 
 him, willy-nilly; or the Lord Dawbeney, Sir
 
 200 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 Launcelot Wallop, and Master Trevor would 
 neither have tasted cold steel, nor be now lying 
 in the cold earth." 
 
 " 'Ware the hawk ! Sir Knight of the Wool- 
 pack,"" cried a voice from among the assemblage, 
 — " you are a stranger, or you would know that 
 there may be peril in letting your tongue wag 
 thus freely." 
 
 " Slid !**• cried the carrier — " I have fat 
 horses in my stable and good royals in my 
 pouch, and I will hold my tongue for no man, 
 when it likes me to speak the sooth. I am 
 neither Sir LionePs vassal nor his varlet ; I 
 never gained by him to the vaiidome of a two- 
 penny chicken, and I am not like to lose as 
 much by saying that which ye all know, though 
 ye may be too faint-hearted to open mouth. So 
 ho, Dobbin ! gently. Ball !" 
 
 "• And is the good abbot,"" inquired the bear- 
 ward, " one of those who will shed his silver 
 for seeing Sackerson fight ?"" 
 
 " Not unless it be to take a lesson," replied 
 the carrier — " for he promises soon to have 
 fighting enough of liis own ; and mass ! when
 
 THE TOR HILL. 201 
 
 the two kings of the hill and valley come to- 
 gether, the thunder will be of worse peril than 
 that which now blusters above our heads with- 
 out harming us. Prythee, is it true, my mas- 
 ters, that the devil was seen to jump from one 
 of the chimneys of the Tor House, some three 
 weeks agone, into such another thunder-cloud 
 as that now hangino- over the church ?" 
 
 " Harkee ! sir constable of the whip," cried 
 the same voice that had previously warned him — 
 " when you were crawling along under Weary- 
 all-hill with your fat geldings, did I not hear 
 you trolling the ballad of Andrew Barton ? — 
 
 ' The King look'd over his left shoulder. 
 And an angry look then looked he. 
 Have I never a Lord in all my realm. 
 Will fetch yon traitor unto me ?' " 
 
 " Ay, marry, such was my song, and what 
 then, trow ?" 
 
 " Why then, my good friend, when you find 
 your tongue running faster and louder than 
 your horses' bells, you would do well to recol- 
 lect that the King of the Hill, in whose realm 
 you are thus clacking, has only to utter the 
 
 K 5
 
 202 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 same words, and your fastest gelding cannot 
 prevent your being presently seized and brought 
 up to him." 
 
 " Beshrew thee, for a talking knave and a 
 saucy ! am I then a traitor for repeating what 
 I heard from the abbot's summoner, who was • 
 standing beneath a tree for the rain, as Ave may 
 be now, when he marked a devil upon the 
 tallest chimney-top of the Tor House, wagging 
 its tail, and butting with his horns at a black 
 cloud over his head ; when lo ! my masters, it 
 no sooner opened its fiery jaws for the light- 
 ning to leap out, than the demon jumped in, and 
 disappeared. Back, Wall-eye, back ! what are 
 you shaking your bells at ? Wo-ho, poor fel- 
 low !" 
 
 No one took any notice of this strange story^ 
 and there was a silence of a minute or two, until 
 a voice ejaculated — " Would to Heaven the 
 brave and good Sir Giles Hungerford were 
 among us again !" to which several responded. 
 Amen ! 
 
 " Or that Master Cecil,"" resumed the former 
 speaker, " had recovered his full wits, and were
 
 THE TOR HILL. 203 
 
 of man's estate, and holding the Tor House.'' 
 To this wish the amens were still more nu- 
 merous, and the bearward was just making 
 some new inquiry respecting master Cecil, when 
 a peal of thunder that threatened to shake 
 down the impending stone above them, followed 
 by an almost blinding flash of lightning, kept 
 the whole assemblage, for a short time, in an 
 awe-struck silence. Ere they were sufficiently 
 recovered to resume the conversation, one of 
 the peasants, with an exclamation of terror, fell 
 upon his knees, crossed himself, and pointing 
 towards the Tor Hill, cried out, — " Saint Mary 
 shield us ! there he is ! there he is i God erant 
 he send not the lightning among us!" after 
 which aspiration, he commenced repeating his 
 paternoster with great eagerness. As his com- 
 panions directed their eyes to the point indi- 
 cated, they seemed to be equally struck aghast ; 
 many imitated his example by falling on their 
 knees, and all exhibited symptoms of profound 
 awe and apprehension. Where Dudley first 
 stood, he could not discover the object which 
 had so powerfully affected tliem, but he had no'
 
 204 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 sooner changed his position, than at the extre- 
 mity of a lofty terrace, projecting from the Tor 
 House, he beheld a tall dark figure with a long 
 wand in his hand which he was pointing at the 
 sky, and waving about with a slow and majestic 
 motion. The black clouds having parted imme- 
 diately behind him, and admitting a bright ray 
 of light, not only threw out his figure in bold 
 and distinct relief, but from the elevation of the 
 hill and its crowning terrace, upon the edge of 
 the horizon, gave him the appearance of some 
 superior being walking in the sky. This mys- 
 terious personage, aS^ ;he understood from the 
 exclamations of those around him, was the 
 much-feared Sir Lionel Fitzraaurice ; while a 
 little deformed figure, which presently after- 
 wards became visible, by his side, and wore 
 very much the look of an imp of darkness at- 
 tendant on its master-spirit, was identified by 
 the whispering peasants as " the Doctor." 
 
 Cowering into one corner, as if tliey dreaded 
 to be seen by the formidable figure, who seem- 
 ed to be giving orders to the angry elements, 
 and directing their wrath ; and yet unable to
 
 THE TOR HILL. 205 
 
 withdraw their eyes, as if fascinated by the 
 apparition before them, the peasants continued 
 to watch the movements of his wand, shrinking 
 with increased agony whenever it took a direc- 
 tion towards themselves, in apparent apprehen- 
 sion that the hghtning, which still played about 
 him, would leap whithersoever he pointed, and 
 consume and destroy according to his orders. 
 Others remembering the carrier's tale of the 
 demon, which was imphcitly believed in those 
 parts, fixed their eyes upon the hunch-backed 
 dwarf at his side, in apparent expectation that 
 he would take advantage of the next rent made 
 by the lightning to leap into the clouds. " The 
 abbey ! the abbey !" was at length exclaimed 
 by several, from which Dudley, who recollected 
 the alleged hostilitv between the Kings of the 
 Hill and of the Valley, conjectured that they ex- 
 pected some mischief to fall on the venerable 
 pile ; but its lofty towers and chapels, thrown 
 into deep shade by the clouds, seemed to be 
 sternly frow^ning at the storm, and bidding defi- 
 ance to its utmost fury. Still were their eye« 
 rivetted with an intense and almost breathless
 
 S06 THE' Toil HILL. 
 
 interest, first upon the figures on the terrace, 
 and then on the sacred building ; but the tem- 
 pest now began to abate and clear off. Sir Lio- 
 nel and his deformed companion stalked back 
 to the mansion and disappeared ; the thunder 
 rolled muttering away ; the song of the birds 
 overpowered the diminished pattering of the 
 water, as it dripped from the hollow stone ; 
 the sun broke brightly through the scattered 
 clouds, a rainbow spanned the opposite arch 
 of the heavens, and the abbey was seen to 
 glitter uninjured as the returning rays light- 
 ed up its far-extending walls. Inspired with 
 fresh confidence at a conclusion which refut- 
 ed their sinister and ominous forebodings, the 
 rustics began to breathe with more freedom, 
 and talk in a louder tone ; the carrier ventured 
 to cut a few jokes upon Sir Inoners odd taste 
 for walking in the rain, and poking at the clouds 
 with a hop-pole ; the bearward declared with a 
 laugh, that if he would sell the little hum.p- 
 backed doctor he would clap him atop of his 
 bear instead of a monkey ; and the whole 
 party were preparing to separate with renovated
 
 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 207 
 
 courage, when a column of dark smoke, laced 
 with occasional gleams of fire, was seen to arise 
 at some distance, and two or three of the pea- 
 sants exclaimed, at the same moment, that the 
 abbot's grange was on fire. In a few moments, 
 the flames bursting forth with increased violence, 
 not only confirmed this assertion, but showed 
 that the whole building, with its stacks and ricks, 
 would be shortly consumed ; and the terrors of 
 the peasants, who immediately assigned this 
 calamity to the supernatural influence of the 
 abbot's arch-enemy, returned with redoubled 
 force. Their voices again subsided to a whisper, 
 as they slunk off" muttering paternosters and ave- 
 marys ; the carrier collected his beasts in solemn 
 silence, and hurried away ; while the bearward, 
 too much intimidated to resume his banterinf^ 
 tone, and yet too sturdy to betray the smallest 
 apprehension, made a sort of compromise, by 
 whistling most valiantly, as he trudged forward 
 with bruin by his side, and his troop of dogs 
 behind him. 
 
 Dudley, who had been an attentive observer 
 of this scene, although he had forborne from in-
 
 S08 THE Ton HILL. 
 
 termingling in the conversation, proceeded also 
 on his route, lost in a variety of conjectures. 
 Hitherto he had attributed all the terrors of the 
 country-folks, and much of the evil reputation 
 that attached to Sir Lionel, either to a blind 
 superstition, or the dread inspired by his bloody 
 deeds as a duelist ; but he had now seen him, 
 giving countenance to the prejudice against him, 
 by conduct, at least, as dark and mysterious as 
 the rumours that were circulated in the neigh- 
 bourhood ; and though the burning of the ab- 
 bot's grange might be a mere accidental coinci- 
 dence, he could not but confess that the mode 
 and moment of its occurrence were well calcu- 
 lated to confirm all the sinister suspicions of 
 the observers. To an ardent and darino- mind, 
 however, there is something stimulating in the 
 idea of encountering a personage, from whom 
 all the rest of the world are shrinking in dismay. 
 Curiosity to develope Sir Lionel's character 
 and motives was now combined with this feel- 
 ing, while the description he had heard of his 
 daughter's beauty was not without its influence
 
 THE TOR HILL. 209 
 
 in increasing his impatience, as he pushed for- 
 ward to the Tor House. 
 
 As to Pierre, he had been too much occupied 
 in kissing and singing to his horse to pay much 
 attention to the conversation around him, or 
 even to the storm that was raging without, al- 
 though he now sympathized so vivaciously with 
 the restored gaiety of nature, as to sing without 
 intermission until they arrived at the embattled 
 Gate-house, which formed the entrance to the 
 residence of Sir Lionel Fitzmaurice.
 
 210 THE TOR HII-L. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A stately damsel fresh and fair. 
 Gracing her garments rich and rare 
 
 With noble carriage. 
 Ah ! let not pride such features stain, 
 Nor e'en a beautiful disdain. 
 
 Those charms disparage ! 
 
 The Tor House was one of those ancient 
 baronial structures, originally built for the pur- 
 poses of security, as well as for the display of 
 state, although since the termination of the wars 
 of the Roses, its defences had been neglected, 
 and Sir Giles Hungerford's intention of restor- 
 ing them to their former strength had been 
 frustrated by his almost uninterrupted absence 
 in the service of his country. Two circular 
 towers, with embattled tops and conical roofs, 
 flanking a narrow machicolated Gothic archway,
 
 THE TOR HILL. 211 
 
 over whose heavy architrave the arms of Hun- 
 gerford were sculptured, constituted the Gate- 
 house, which, as ah'eady stated, stood at some 
 distance in advance of the main building. The 
 causeway that joined them was enclosed by 
 stone walls of moderate height Avithinside, but 
 which from the scarping of the hill without, pre- 
 sented an elevation that could, when the ground 
 was originally cut away, only be surmount- 
 ed by escalade. Nature, however, resuming 
 her bountiful dominion, had so thickly clothed 
 the slope with shrubs and underwood, that an 
 assailant would have found in some places a 
 ladder of boughs ready placed against the wall, 
 and reaching nearly to its summit. The main 
 * building consisted of a principal court for the 
 state rooms and dwelling apartments, with a 
 smaller one behind it for the offices. The lat- 
 ter stretched back to the steep ascent of the 
 Tor Hill, upon which it rested, while a flight of 
 steps led to a terrace upon the very brow of 
 that precipitous eminence, nearly parallel with 
 the base of the lofty tower or Tor of Saint 
 Michael's church, which still stands conspicuous
 
 212 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 and entire, while the ancient mansion of the Hun- 
 gerfords, to which it had imparted its name, 
 has so utterly disappeared, that not a vestige of 
 its existence remains. At each corner of the 
 great court stood a circular tower, with conical 
 roof of the same form as those at the Gate- 
 house, and the whole was enclosed on three 
 sides by a dry ditch, over which, at the ter- 
 mination of the causeway, there had formerly 
 been a drawbridge, although a permanent and 
 fixed communication had now supplanted it. 
 The terrace, and the inaccessibility of the hill, 
 an the edge of which it was placed, were the 
 only defences for the back of the mansion. 
 
 Upon his arrival at the Gate-house, into 
 which he requested to be ushered for the final 
 arrangement of his dress, before he presented 
 himself, Dudley was astonished at the signs 
 of a stately and numerous establishment which 
 he was already enabled to observe. The war- 
 den of the Gate-house, handsomely attired in 
 velvet, had yeomen and groom-porters beneath 
 him ; while one of Sir Lionel's gentlemen, at- 
 tended by a page, and followed by two servants
 
 THE TOR HILL. 213 
 
 in rich liveries, rode forth mounted upon goodly 
 steeds bearing the brand of their owner, being 
 a naked dagger, with five gouts. Advancing 
 to the principal court, after having completed 
 his toilet, his amazement increased as he no- 
 ticed that few of the wealthiest nobles of the 
 land, with all the cumbrous magnificence and 
 numerous household which they affected in their 
 establishments, could surpass either in splen- 
 dour or variety the retinue with wliich he was 
 now surrounded, of whom the greater part 
 wore swords like the retainers of a feudal baron. 
 The steward of the household, in hand^me 
 robes, with gold chain and ruff, received him 
 at the entrance of the great liall, which occu- 
 pied the whole front of the first court. As he 
 passed through the file of servants, yeomen and 
 attendants, most of them in gorgeous liveries, 
 and approached the dais and oriel-chamber, at 
 the upper end of the hall, he observed that the 
 walls were hung with armour of all descrip- 
 tions, arrayed in fanciful shapes ; among which 
 he recognizf'd, by its cognizance, the discarded 
 lielmct of Sir Giles, which had saved him from
 
 214 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 many a perilous blow in the olden time, and for 
 which, in an hour of evil omen, he had substi- 
 tuted the improved casque that had cost him 
 his life. Although by no means very suscepti- 
 ble of regretful impressions, he could not for- 
 bear a sigh as he reflected upon the mode of his 
 death, nor a latent feeling of indignation mixed 
 with surprise, that another should thus have 
 usurped his mansion, and eclipsed the splen- 
 dour of its rightful owner. 
 
 On emerging from this apartment, and enter- 
 ing the Justice-Hall, he was enabled in some 
 deg-ree to account for the terror of the common 
 people, who were more peculiarly liable to be 
 arraigned at its bar, and brought in immediate 
 collision with a soldier-magistrate, whose stern 
 and rigorous dispensation of justice had, per- 
 haps, contributed to his unpopularity, and ag- 
 gravated the odium that attached to all sup- 
 posed possessors of supernatural power. This 
 scene of judicial authority must have indeed 
 presented a dreadful spectacle to a culprit. The 
 screen was garnished with corslets and helmets, 
 gaping with open mouths, with coats of mail,
 
 THE TOR HILL. 215 
 
 lances, pikes, halberds, brown-bills, batterdas- 
 tors and buckles ; while in order to inspire an 
 awe that should come more home to the busi- 
 ness and bosoms of offenders, a wooden tablet, 
 hanging immediately before their eyes, present- 
 ed them with sculptured representations of the 
 stocks, the beadle's whip, the gaoler's chains, 
 the prison itself with its massy portals and 
 wlndowless walls, and finally the gallows, from 
 which a criminal was danghng in terrorem. 
 Such an apparatus, with a judge in the midst 
 of it, who was supposed by the vulgar to be 
 little better than a Rhadamanthus upon earth, 
 must have been well calculated to overwhelm a 
 guilty conscience, aiad even to appal an inno- 
 cent one. 
 
 After passing through two other apartments of 
 smaller dimensions, he was received by a cham- 
 berlain attended by an usher and two pages, 
 who escorted him to the entrance of an ante- 
 room, of which the portals had been no sooner 
 thrown open, than Sir Lionel's domestic band 
 of minstrels, consisting of cornets, shawms, a ta- 
 bouret, lutes, rebecs and recorders, saluted him
 
 216 THE TOR KILL. 
 
 with a short flourish, and he was at length usher- 
 ed with all ceremony into the presence of the 
 personage thus deeply entrenched in domestics. 
 Sir Lionel, who was here attended only by the 
 diminutive and deformed doctor, came forward 
 to meet him, when Dudley, after a few words of 
 common courtesy had been mutually exchanged, 
 put into his hands the letter with which he was 
 charged, and while Sir Lionel was perusing it, 
 had full leisure for observing the figure before 
 him. His stature would have appeared more 
 than usually lofty and commanding, even when 
 compared with the tallest of the common sons 
 of men ; but, when contrasted with the dwarfish 
 figure by his side, its proportions seemed al- 
 most gigantic, and would probably have appear- 
 ed still more so but for the exact symmetry 
 of his limbs. In age he looked about forty-five. 
 His forehead was bald, but the dark locks at 
 the back of his head seemed still to curl natu- 
 rally, and his long black beard, which he wore 
 untrimmed, imparted a singular solemnity to 
 his whole aspect. His large and penetrating 
 dark eyes were surmounted by brows boldly
 
 THE TOR HILL. 217 
 
 and yet delicately sculptured ; his nose, inclin- 
 ing to the Roman, exhibited the same character, 
 the nostrils were long and narrow, his teeth 
 were perfect, and his features altogether might 
 have been pronounced unexceptionably hand- 
 some, but that the derisive curl at the corners 
 of his mouth occasioned a permanent though 
 slight sneer in their expression, while the grisly 
 scar on one of his temples, left by the wound 
 he received in saving the life of Sir Giles Hun- 
 gerford, communicated to his face, when view- 
 ed upon that side, something of a gaunt and 
 terrific character. 
 
 The dark robes in which Dudley had be- 
 held him, r.ot long since, performing his myste- 
 rious gesticulations upon the terrace, no longer 
 enshrouded him. Though still rather sombre in 
 their hue, his present habiliments were of the 
 richest materials, and admirably adapted for 
 setting oflP the symmetry of his figure. His 
 tunic of cinnamon colour, lined with cloth of 
 silver, was gathered and drawn in at the small 
 of the back, while the skirts were open and 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 THE TOB, HILL. 
 
 flowing ; his doublet was of the same colour as 
 the tunic, with silver buttons ; having beneath 
 a jerkin of cloth of silver, which was only par- 
 tially disclosed when he moved his beard. A 
 tightly drawn leathern girdle, encircled with 
 jewels, and supporting a costly sword, confined 
 his waist ; while the unbroken line of his lower 
 garments, not puffed out into trunk-hose, but 
 rather resembling a modern pantaloon, and con- 
 stituting what was then called long slops, of 
 dove colour, slashed at top, and drawn through 
 with clotli of silver, allowed the length and 
 symmetry of his limbs to be advantageously 
 displayed. The roses of his shoes were fas- 
 tened with a clasp of jewels in the centre, and 
 Dudley observed that as his fingers moved in 
 reading the letter, they sparkled with rings of 
 diamond, amethyst, and ruby. 
 
 Although the communication he was perusing 
 could not fail to be deeply interesting, and 
 might, indeed, be said to implicate in a consider- 
 able degree his fate, he betrayed not the small- 
 est symptom of emotion at its contents. His
 
 THE TOR HILL. 219 
 
 features moved not ; and his pale complexion re- 
 ceived no accession of colour, as he deliberately 
 folded up the paper, and said to his visitor — 
 " Am I to conclude then from this letter that 
 my right worthy and singular good friend is 
 indeed no more ?" 
 
 Dudley detailed the circumstances of his 
 death, and of his honourable bvirial at Calais, 
 when Sir Lionel exclaimed — " Alas the while ! 
 he was truly as hardy a knight as ever set spear 
 in rest, but still so reckless, hot, and mettle- 
 some in his valour, that he would spur to 
 the vanward wherever there was clashing of 
 swords, and make as largesse of his blood, as if 
 it were fountain- water ; so that we may rather 
 marvel he should have lived so long, how 
 much soever we may regret that he died so 
 early. Left he any other vouchers, papers, or 
 documents, than this letter ?" 
 
 " None whatever,"" replied Dudley. 
 
 " It shall be my care that his dying purposes 
 be fully executed," said the knight, putting the 
 letter carefully into his pocket : — " and who 
 Vr'ere the witnesses to his unfortunate death ,'^" 
 
 L 2
 
 220 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 a 
 
 I was the only person present when he 
 yielded up the ghost,"" replied Dudley, " and 
 to me only did he entrust the last wishes, which 
 are contained in his letter to yourself." 
 
 " It is well, it is well," resumed Sir Lionel — 
 "his will shall be done, and Heaven rest his soul !" 
 
 The diminutive personage in black was now 
 introduced by the name of Dr. Wrench, and 
 made his bow in silence. His ruff was stiffly 
 starched, his beard cut square, like that of an 
 Egyptian idol, his look betokened acuteness, or 
 rather eagerness, and malignity, and his face 
 exhibited that undefinable character, which ena- 
 bles you to pronounce at first sight that it be- 
 longs to a deformed person. In the conversa- 
 tion that ensued he took scarcely any part, 
 turning up his little sharp eyes to Sir Lionel 
 whenever he spoke, with an expression of abject 
 deference that seemed but ill to accord with the 
 natural waspishness of his features. Dudley 
 was now called upon to give a more detailed 
 account of the catastrophe of the adventurers, 
 and of Sir Giles's wound and death, as well as 
 of the occurrences he had met with on his jour-
 
 THE TOR HILL. 221 
 
 ney to Somersetshire, a narrative that occupied 
 some time ; when feeling surprised that nothing 
 should have been said respecting Cecil, he ex- 
 pressed a hope that he was in better health, and 
 of more pleasant promise, than the last letters to 
 Sir Giles had given reason to apprehend. 
 
 " God's pity ! Master Dudley," exclaimed Sir 
 Lionel — " we have not any warrant for a mere 
 favourable report, for in the fear of causing un- 
 happiness to his father I have rather lagged be- 
 hind the truth than gone beyond it. The youth 
 is of puling health, and still more infirm of 
 mind,.and yet, weakwitted as he is, of a perverse 
 and peevish will, when he is not lost in fits of 
 silent sullen stupor. My learned friend Dr. 
 Wrench, who was, or rather should have been, 
 his tutor, has after patient toil foreborne his stu- 
 dies in despair; for it is vain to pour into a 
 vessel that is too shallow to retain, and impossi- 
 ble to teach one who wants capacity to learn."" 
 
 This statement was confirmed by the doctor 
 in a few formal sentences, delivered in a most 
 precise and mincing manner, wherein he declar-
 
 222 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 ed his opinion that the young man was strictly a 
 lunatic, having lucid intervals, but decidedly 
 losing his intellects when under the influence of 
 the moon ; on which account he rather preferred 
 that word to the more legal phrase non compos 
 mentis, which he had applied to him when he 
 first found him incapable of conjugating a Latin 
 verb. Finally he declared that, according to his 
 judgment, he was not in a safe state to go at 
 large, but ought to be placed in temporary 
 confinement, and some competent person be 
 appointed, as directed by the seventeenth of 
 Edward the Second, chap. 10, to take the 
 management of his affairs ; adding., that no one 
 was so well qualified for this troublesome and 
 painful office as Sir Lionel, though he feared he 
 would hardly be prevailed upon to undertake it. 
 The Knight taking no notice of this intima- 
 tion, Dudley declared that he was commissioned 
 to deliver Sir Giles's dying blessing to his cousin, 
 and expressed a hope that he should be allowed 
 to see him for this purpose, as well as for the 
 pleasure of commencing an acquaintance with 
 him.
 
 THE TOR HILL. 22^ 
 
 " Well-a-day !" said Sir Lionel, " you will 
 little deem it a pleasure," — and then, without 
 giving a more direct pledge as to any interview, 
 he immediately changed the subject by inquir- 
 ing what stay he purposed making in Somerset- 
 shire, and claiming him as his guest until he 
 should return to France, if such were his inten- 
 tion, or be called to other quarters. Dudley 
 stated, that as he designed setting up an inscrip- 
 tion in Glastonbury church, and suspending the 
 ominous helmet, agreeably to his pledge to his 
 uncle, he should be obliged to prolong his stay 
 in the neighbourhood for some days, and would, 
 therefore, gladly accept his proffered hospitality; 
 which he did the more willingly, as his accom- 
 modation at the English inns, and more particu- 
 larly at Sib Fawcett's, had by no means render- 
 ed him desirous of a protracted residence in any 
 hostelry whatsoever. Exclusively of these al- 
 leged motives for accepting the invitation, he 
 was determined if possible to form an acquain- 
 tance with his cousin, in whose fate he began to 
 feel more deeply interested ; nor would he have 
 been at all satisfied to take his departure, without
 
 2S4 ' THE TOR HILL. 
 
 having an opportunity of beholding the " fresh 
 and stately beauty," for whose sake, principally, 
 he had taken so much pains in decorating his 
 person. 
 
 Professing great satisfaction at this arrange- 
 ment. Sir Lionel called a page from the ante- 
 room, and bade him tell Dame Fitzmaurice 
 that a visitor who came to sojourn a few days 
 at the Tor House, and who had brought im- 
 portant tidings from France, was waiting to be 
 introduced to her. As she did not, however, 
 make her appearance for some time, Dudley 
 requested permission to speak to his servant, 
 that he might dispatch him to Wells, for his 
 valise and its appurtenances, as well as to re- 
 munerate the hostess for his accommodation. 
 For this purpose he was ushered into a small 
 room looking into the back court, which he had 
 hardly reached, when from an adjoining apart- 
 ment, of which the door was ajar, he heard a 
 female voice exclaiming — " Gramercy ! fellow, 
 was ever such a tardy arras-mender as thou 
 art ? Is not Bell and the Dragon yet pieced
 
 ■^ 
 
 THE TOR HILL. S25 
 
 wi^^a new tail, nor Susanna and the Elders 
 made good in the torn border, nor the Prodigal 
 Son patched in the foot ?" 
 
 " No, my lady," replied a man's voice, " ail 
 are begun, though none are yet finished; but 
 there is the new arras of imagery bordered with 
 cucumbers, posies, and pomegranates, and that 
 with beasts, birds, and a conduit." 
 
 " The new arras !" resumed the first voice ; 
 " am I to put up the new arras, thou waste- 
 apace, before it has been rubbed with worm- 
 wood and bitter apples, to keep it from the 
 moth ? Go thy ways, sluggard, I will have no 
 hangings since the old are in the loom, and the 
 stranger shall sleep in the carved chamber. 
 Why, Joan ! Cicely ! Meg ! where are ye ? look 
 to the carved chamber that it be well besomed 
 from cobwebs, strew it with rushes, and put up 
 the dormy bed-curtains, paned with red and 
 white. Tell the cook to mend the supper I 
 had ordered, with a chicken callis, chaude-war- 
 dens, marchpane, almond-caudle, quince cakes, 
 and pommecitron. Let her come to me in the 
 
 l5
 
 226 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 spicery for saffron to colour the venison fru- 
 menty, and saunders and liquorice-powder for 
 the confections ; and bid her send up the pewter 
 garnish, for here will be a rare coil from Sir 
 Lionel, an our visitor be of condition, and he 
 see treen platters and wooden trenchers upon 
 the board." The same voice gradually growing 
 fainter, as the speaker retired, was for some 
 time heard giving orders about parish-candle 
 and wax-sizers, turnsole, blanch-powder and 
 dates, fumatory, dandelion and hawthorn-wa- 
 ter, and all the mysteries of the butlery, spice- 
 ry, chandry, and still-room, until it became in- 
 audible ; and Dudley, concluding from the title 
 applied to her by the dilatory arras-mender, 
 that he had been unintentionally listening to 
 Lady Eitzmaurice, was prepared to give her 
 credit for being a most bustling and notable 
 housewife, although he had little anticipated 
 such a character in the spouse of the proud and 
 ostentatious Sir Lionel. 
 
 Pierre, who shortly appeared, had already 
 found time to ingratiate himself with some of the
 
 THE TOR HILL. 227 
 
 numerous domestics, and no sooner learnt that 
 they were to take up their quarters for the pre- 
 sent at the Tor House, and quit the miserable 
 guiiiguette, as he termed it, appertaining to Sib 
 Favvcett, than he sang out, with great anima- 
 tion — Allerte! Allerte ! Allerte ! disoic pere 
 Gregoire,"" and promised to start at an early 
 hour on the following morning in execution of 
 his orders. His master returned to the cedar- 
 room, as the apartment was named in which he 
 had been first introduced to Sir Lionel, and 
 which he now found untenanted, the knight 
 having retired with his little deformed compa- 
 nion, (who being no longer wanted as a tutor, 
 had become his private secretary,) to consult 
 upon matters, to which it would have been by 
 no means expedient that the visitor should be 
 privy. Dudley now observed, that the dark ce- 
 dar pannels whence the room derived its name 
 were interlined with texts of scripture, and 
 moral scraps both in prose and verse, painted 
 in black-letter, and in many places become ille- 
 gible, either by lapse of time, or by the frequent
 
 228 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 rubbing and polishing of the pannels. The 
 furniture was massive and antique; tin sconces 
 for holding lights were hung along the walls ; 
 the huge chimney-piece of sculptured oak dis- 
 played the Hungerford arms, bristling with 
 weapons and other trophies of every descrip- 
 tion ; and upon a ponderous oaken table in the 
 centre of the room was lying a small printed 
 formulary of the chapel-service for the day of 
 the Assumption of our Lady ; a book upon 
 Judicial Astrology, with directions concerning 
 the discovery of the Philosopher's Stone, and 
 the Elixir Vitae; and a Treatise on Hunting, 
 Hawking, and Heraldry, by Dame Julian Ber- 
 ners, who, in Henry the Sixth's time, was ob- 
 liging enough to teach young gentlen'omen the 
 divertisement of manning sparrow-hawks and 
 merlines.* A manuscript, with the order of the 
 IMinstrel's Feast, and the Bull-chace to be ob- 
 served on the morrow of the Assumption, com- 
 
 * She was prioress of the nunnery of Sopewell, and 
 her book was printed in the neighbouring monastery of 
 St- Albans, in 1481.
 
 THE TOR HILL. 2S9 
 
 pleted the literary collection, which would not 
 be deemed a very copious or entertaining one, 
 were it to be displayed upon the loo-table of a 
 modern drawing-room. It must be recollected, 
 however, that in those days even personages of 
 distinction had few other books of any sort ; no 
 newspapers, magazines, or reviews; no novels, 
 circulating libraries, or literary correspondence. 
 Shakspeare was yet unborn, and there was no 
 Great Unknown to pour forth works of imagina- 
 tion and amusement with a talent so unrivalled 
 as to absorb the admiration of all ranks, and all 
 ages, and a fertility so inexhaustible as to sup- 
 ply them with a perpetual succession of novelty. 
 For want of these resources, field-sports, tilts, 
 and tournaments, were the only recreations of 
 the gentlemen in time of peace ; while the young 
 ladies, whose hours were not fully occupied in 
 domestic arrangements, or in working tapestrj'^, 
 might betake themselves to Dame Julian Ber- 
 ners, and receive lessons for manning sparrow- 
 hawks and merlines. 
 
 After slightly glancing over this lady's vo-
 
 230 THE TOE. HILL. 
 
 lume, Dudley withdrew to one of the deeply 
 pierced windows, which, commanding a fine 
 view of the abbey, and disclosing to him the 
 abbot's grange, now nearly burned to the 
 ground, reminded him of the strange suspicions 
 of the peasantry, as to Sir Lionel's having in- 
 fluenced the elements to its destruction, and 
 determined him to mention the subject and 
 observe the demeanour of his host, as soon as 
 he should return to the apartment. This he 
 did in a very few minutes, followed by the 
 Doctor, when his visitor asked him whether he 
 were aware that the abbot's grange had been 
 struck by the lightning, and was to be seen 
 burning from the window. 
 
 " I concluded it would be,"" replied Sir Lionel, 
 calmly — " and have, therefore, never looked to- 
 wards it. It irks me that the wind hath forced 
 me to know of it; for so do I hold him in scorn, 
 that I would not even smell the smoke, nor be 
 soiled with the ashes, of any thing that once 
 was his." 
 
 " May I inquire," resumed Dudley, " wliy 
 you concluded it would be burnt .^"
 
 THE TOR HILL. 231 
 
 " Because I know that he can neither bribe 
 nor intimidate Heaven, as he has too long done 
 his fellow-creatures, and because I believe the 
 hour of vengeance to be approaching. When 
 a justly incensed king threatened a gluttonous 
 predecessor of this abbot to burn his kitchen 
 about his ears, the proud prelate traitorously 
 defied him by building one of stone,* which he 
 
 * This tradition is still preserved in the neighbour- 
 hood of the Abbey^ and the massive remains of the kit- 
 chen are pointed to in confirmation of its veracity. It 
 is built upon a very curious construction. At the bot- 
 tom it is square, and has a fire-place in each angle, with 
 chimnies that open on the square part of the roof above. 
 From this roof rises an octagonal pyramid, at the top of 
 which is a kind of lantern, and within that another, in 
 which was hung the bell, whose chime, in days of old, 
 was tlie signal for collecting the poor people at the 
 adjoining almonry, which now lies in ruins on the 
 north side of the kitchen. The roof is supported by 
 eight carved ribs, and there are as many funnels for 
 letting out the steam through the windows. It is not 
 unusual to adduce these enormous kitchens as evidences 
 of the luxury and sensuality of the monks, v>ithout ad- 
 verting to the necessity of such establishments, from 
 the great numbers of the household, and the extensive 
 charity and hospitality to which they ministered. These 
 kitchens represented in a great degree our modern 
 pooi--rates, which were unknown before the Reforma- 
 
 \ 
 
 i^
 
 232 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 declared all the wood of the royal forests should 
 not be able to consume. But haughty, and al- 
 most omnipotent as they are, they cannot con- 
 struct corn-stacks and hay-ricks of the same 
 incombustible materials; nor am I without 
 hopes that the present lord abbot, old as he 
 is, may live long enough to see his statel}^ 
 abbey follow the fate of his grange. 
 
 Anxious to learn the cause of this decided 
 enmity, and yet wishing to avoid the appear- 
 ance of an impertinent curiosity, Dudley was 
 considering how he might best obtain the in- 
 formation he wanted, by some oblique inquiry, 
 when his design was frustrated by the en- 
 trance of Lady Fitzmaurice. She appeared to 
 be about five years younger than her husband : 
 in spite of the care and anxiety that charac- 
 terised her features, they expressed great amia- 
 bility, and the unaffected cordiality of her re- 
 
 tion. Church-ales, a Church-house in every parish^ 
 provided with spits, pots, and crocks, for provisions, a poor 
 man's box in the churches and gi-eat inns, and above 
 all, the doles at the religious houses, answered the 
 purpose.
 
 THE TOR HILL. 233 
 
 ception of him reconciled Dudley to a certain 
 homeliness of manner, which, without descending 
 to vulgarity, was still somewhat below the level 
 of the rank she occupied. Even if her voice 
 had not betrayed her, he would soon have re- 
 cognized the careful housewife, whom he had 
 overheard giving such minute directions in her 
 domestic economy ; the more especially as her 
 dress, matronly and respectable as it was, was 
 so inferior to the costly splendour of Sir Lio- 
 nel's, that it gave her the appearance of being 
 rather his housekeeper than his wife. Having 
 learnt the death of Sir Giles before she entered 
 the room, she almost immediately adverted to 
 it, exclaiming with a melancholy voice and look 
 — " Alas, alas ! and is the good knight dead 
 and gone ? God rest his soul, and amen ! for 
 he was ever a kind friend to Sir Lionel, and a 
 right noble gentleman he was to all the world. 
 Beshrew the whole march of Calais, and a ma- 
 lison upon it, for though, as they tell me, it is 
 but a lean and hungry country, it hath ever 
 been soaked with as good English blood as if
 
 234 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 it were as well worth fighting for as the Holy 
 Land, and contained the sepulchre of our Lord. 
 Well-a-day, well-a-day ! I said yesterday, being 
 the eve of the Assumption, that we should soon 
 hear of some grievous death." 
 
 " Had you then any reason to anticipate the 
 unfortunate fate of my uncle .?" inquired Dud- 
 ley, who recollecting Sir Lionel's statement 
 about the abbot's grange, began to think that 
 both parties had a strange power of foreseeing 
 evil. 
 
 " Ay, troth, that had I," replied the lady : 
 " for as I was sitting spinning with my maids 
 under the chesnut-tree, in the buttery-yard, 
 because of the heat, we heard a death-bell toll 
 from the abbey, and straightway Joan, who is 
 but a sighing and softhearted wench, struck up 
 the^old ballad — 
 
 Toll on the passing bell. 
 Ring out the doleful knell. 
 Let tlie sound my death tell. 
 
 For I must die ; 
 There is no remedy. 
 
 For I must die !
 
 THE TOR HILL. 235 
 
 And just as she ended we heard a cry from 
 the kitchen, where a coffin had flown from the 
 fire, and sorely burnt one of the turnspit-boys, 
 by lodging in his worsted hose, which may 
 well be deemed a judgment, for he is ever steal- 
 ing the dripping ; and lo you ! Master Dudley, 
 Avhile the rogue was yet greeting, the raven 
 that belongs lo the buttery-yard, jumped upon 
 the hatch, and croaked three times !" 
 
 " Never could an3rthing more clearly prove 
 that a brave English knight would be killed 
 in France," exclaimed Sir Lionel, in a con- 
 temptuous tone. 
 
 " Since you are but freshly come from 
 France," resumed the lady, not noticing this 
 remark, and addressing Dudley, " you can re- 
 solve me truly whether they live so much cheap- 
 ei- than we, as I hear they do. God wot how we 
 are to live in England, since things are thus run 
 up. A fourteen pound stone of beef is not to be 
 had under eight good pence, nor a leg of mut- 
 ton for less than threepence, a bacon-hog costs 
 ten shillings, and I have just paid a shilHng
 
 236 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 each for guinea pigs for the minstrels' dinner 
 to-morrow. Flour too is again up, and none 
 to be had under eightpence a bushel ; and as 
 to poultry, there is no getting a fat capon or 
 hen under threepence, and a mallard is as 
 dear, while they make it a favour to give you 
 three or four dozen eggs for a shilling. For- 
 merly, good ale at three halfpence a gallon 
 would serve the turn, but now there must be 
 a void of spices after dinner ; and claret or 
 brown bastard, at a shilling a gallon, is no long- 
 er good enough to serve with it; so we must 
 e''en have muscadine or malmsey, at sixpence 
 the quart, or sack at ninepence, or Candia and 
 Romagna wines of which I wot not the value ; 
 nay, there be some that will fancy nothing but 
 Hippocras with their spice." 
 
 " Twit ! twit ! my lady," exclaimed Sir 
 Lionel, impatiently ; " deem you that knights'' 
 esquires pass their life in the pantry and 
 pitcher-house ; or, that our guest has fallen in 
 love with some kitchen malkin in France, and 
 added up her market-book while she was ca-
 
 THE TOH HILL. 237 
 
 bossing a boar''s head, or putting a lemon into 
 its mouth for a Christmas dinner ?"" 
 
 " Nay, nay, Sir Lionel, be not so overthwart, 
 for as the gentleman is a traveller, I might well 
 ween he would not pass through foreign coun- 
 tries without gleaning some useful lore." 
 
 Dudley expressed his regret, that he should 
 have gathered no knowledge of this nature, for 
 which he hoped to stand excused, as he had 
 never kept house, but had generally led the sol- 
 dier's life, and been provided for either, by the 
 king, or the king's enemies. 
 
 " All which stands grievously in the way of 
 gathering valuable information," continued the 
 lady — " but it may have happed that you know 
 something of the cost of servants, which are 
 here a sore and evil drain upon the purse. Even 
 at board-wages they must have twelvepence a 
 week, and as to yearly wages, you cannot find a 
 scullery wench, nor a rocker in the nursery, 
 that looks not for twenty shillings; a groom 
 will have as much ; a footman, or falconer, forty ; 
 Sir Lionel's gentlemen five marks, or perhaps
 
 238 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 ten nobles ;''"' and then, observing that her 
 
 husband and his secretary had retired to the 
 window, she came nearer to Dudley, and whis- 
 pered in his ear, in a tone that expressed her 
 sense of its exorbitancy — " The doctor has a 
 hundred shillings !"* 
 
 Again Dudley was fain to express sorrow for 
 his ignorance upon these essential points, when 
 her ladyship good-naturedly consoled him by 
 acknowledging that the generality of the young 
 gallants now-a-days were equally deficient — 
 " And there is little hope," she added, " that I 
 should live to mend them, for, as the old saw 
 goeth, what's bred in the bone will not out of 
 the flesh, and 
 
 None can a pitcher turn to a silver piece. 
 Nor make a goodly silk of a goat's fleece; 
 And hard is also to make withouten fail, 
 A bi'ight two-handed sword of a cow's tail 
 
 though, gramercy ! Master Dudley, I mean not 
 to disparage you, but to let you know that I 
 
 * Roger Ascham had only 10/. a year pension for edu- 
 cating the Princess Elizabeth.
 
 THE TOR HILL. 239 
 
 am a plain body, and make not a coop of my 
 teeth when the words come clucking to my 
 mouth." 
 
 " I feel honoured by such frankness,"" said 
 Dudley — "nor is there any thing that hkes me so 
 well as a free-spoken sincerity."" He looked to- 
 wards Sir Lionel as he uttered these words, and 
 recollected the character given of him by the 
 friar, but the knight remained at the window^ 
 whispering earnestly to his crooked secretary. 
 
 " And then,"" continued her ladyship, whose 
 thoughts remained fixed upon the former sub- 
 ject, which was indeed generally uppermost in 
 her mind — " what a waste is here for liveries, 
 for every groom must forsooth be dizened after 
 a fresh and lusty fashion, with sword by his side, 
 and broidered or silver badge upon his arm ; and 
 Sir Lioners gentlemen will have nought but 
 velvet coats, what care they though Gill starve, 
 and Jack of the Noke go bare, so they can strut 
 in the great hall with forty or fifty shillings upon 
 their back ; for there is no plain velvet I trow 
 under twenty shillings a yard, and as to three-
 
 240 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 piled — would you believe me, Master Dudley, I 
 paid four nobles for a French hood, and more- 
 over, for the half yard and two nails, whereof 
 this partlet is made." 
 
 Unfortunately for his further progress in the 
 science of domestic economies and the prices of 
 commodities, Dudley's attention was called off, 
 and her ladyship's oration interrupted by the 
 entrance of Miss Fitzmaurice, whom she intro- 
 duced by the name of Mistress Beatrice, and 
 whose appearance instantly confirmed Sib Faw- 
 cett's description, when she had termed her a 
 fresh and stately beauty, though it did not so 
 pointedly refute the imputation of a certain de- 
 gree of hauteur. In many respects she bore a 
 strong resemblance to her father. Like his, her 
 stature was commanding, although from the 
 exactness of its proportions she seemed to be 
 very little above the standard height of beauty. 
 Her large hazel eyes, with their dark and finely 
 arched brows, were as majestic as Juno's ; the 
 outline of her face was equally iioble ; her teeth 
 were faultless ; but her mouth, although it had
 
 THE TOR HILL. 241 
 
 not the derisive curl of Sir Lionel's, wore an 
 expression the very reverse of meekness and 
 humihty, and which had at various times been 
 termed a warranted consciousness of superior 
 beauty, a look of becoming dignity, a slight 
 tendency to superciliousness, or absolute hau- 
 teur, according to the impression it had made 
 upon various observers. None, however, could 
 deny that the general character of her face and 
 figure was singularly striking and stately. 
 
 Nor had she neglected to assist nature with 
 the embellishments of art, for the delay in her 
 appearance had arisen solely from her sedulous 
 attention to the toilet. In this she seemed to 
 have studied the becoming rather than the fa- 
 shionable, as if she felt entitled^ to set, rather 
 than to follow, the mode. Her liair being parted 
 in braids, so as to show her high forehead, was 
 drawn through a crescent of pearls, and fell be- 
 hind in short clustering ringlets. Neither ruff 
 nor partlet concealed her neck and shoulders, 
 whose fine form was becomingly and decorously 
 visible, her tight boddice of russet damask being 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 fashioned in the modern style, although consi- 
 derably longer in the waist, and pounced and 
 garded all over with pearls and passement lace 
 of silver. Demi-sleeves, fastened with knots of 
 pearl upon the shoulder, displayed the symmetry 
 of her arms as well as the richness of her brace- 
 lets ; and her kirtle, of the same material as the 
 boddice, was tastefully decorated with flowers 
 of beaten silver and pearl bov/s. This attire, 
 which would now be deemed over-fine, unless for 
 some extraordinary occasion, was in those days " 
 of greater splendour nothing more than custo- 
 mary ; such indeed was Sir Lionel's taste for 
 state and costliness, that he often reproached 
 his lady with the homeliness of her appearance, 
 and generally admired his daughter in propor- 
 tion as her dress approached to the magnificent. 
 Never laughing, and seldom smiling, his face 
 rarely varied from its habitually derisive ex- 
 pression, its chief betrayal of emotion being 
 confined, however singular it may sound, to his 
 nostrils, which were dilated in moments of 
 passion, and drawn slightly upwards under the
 
 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 243 
 
 influence of complacent feelings. Such was the 
 expression they now assumed, as he surveyed his 
 daughter with a proud satisfaction, and, leaving 
 his secretary in the window, came forward to 
 welcome her and mingle in the conversation, 
 which he had previously appeared to consider 
 beneath his attention. Conscious of her beauty, 
 and by no means disposed to think meanly of 
 her talents, Beatrice enjoyed that perfect self- 
 possession which, enabling its owner to speak 
 with fluencv and animation, often conceals is;_ 
 norance, and is even occasionally mistaken by 
 superficial observers for knowledge. She ques- 
 tioned Dudley respecting the masques, pageants, 
 and balls, at which he had been present in 
 France, inquired what celebrated beauties he 
 had seen, and, exacting a minute description of 
 dresses, appeared delighted at his competency 
 to furnish full information upon this point, and 
 not less struck with the taste he had exhibited 
 in his own attire. Much as her face resembled 
 her father's, she was so far from sharing his 
 
 M 2
 
 244? THE TOE HILL. 
 
 inflexibility of feature and expression, that her 
 countenance was as the dial-plate of her heart. 
 She had no need of dissimulation, and was too 
 proud to descend to it. As Sir Lionel interro- 
 gated his visitor touching some of his old com- 
 panions in arms, and their doings in France, her 
 eyes kindled at the relation of any instances of 
 personal prowess, or splendour and magnificence 
 of living; while at any example of unmanly 
 bearing, or meanness of spirit, she assumed a 
 look of ineffable scorn, which betrayed strong 
 passion, and during its continuance might be 
 even said to impeach her claim to feminine 
 beauty. 
 
 In the conversation that ensued. Lady Fitz- 
 maurice took little part, except to ejaculate 
 about the expense of the pageants, or to inquire 
 the price of any article belonging to the ward- 
 robe or culinary department, that happened to 
 be incidentally mentioned ; the doctor was ge- 
 nerally silent, only once interfering, to correct 
 the pronunciation of a Latin word, but watching 
 whatever fell from the lips of Sir Lionel with a
 
 THE TOR HILL. 245 
 
 look of profound homage ; the remainder of 
 the party, however, required no assistance to 
 keep up the spirit of the conversation, which 
 was maintained with undiminished interest until 
 the band of music in the adjoining apartment 
 suddenly struck up a flourish, and several 
 servants entering, announced that supper was 
 served. 
 
 " Saint Mary bless us ! " exclaimed her lady- 
 ship — " the chicken calUs will hardly be done, 
 and it cannot surely be six o'clock. Hark ! well 
 it is six, by my faith, for I hear the abbey-bell 
 tolling for evensong." So saying, she headed 
 the party as it was formally ushered by the 
 chamberlain into the supper-room, where nu- 
 merous pages and servants in rich liveries were 
 stationed, while the musicians, who were pro- 
 vided wit!) forms at the upper end, played at 
 intervals during and after the repast. On the 
 table Dudley recognized the additions Avhich 
 his arrival had occasioned, and respecting which 
 he had heard such particular directions given, 
 although he would have considered the meal
 
 .■^46 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 more than handsome enough for the occasion, 
 without these supplemental luxuries. Her lady- 
 sliip appeared rather embarrassed and over- 
 whelmed by the state in which she sate ; but 
 Beatrice, he observed, exacted her full share of 
 service and attention, not suffering any omis- 
 sion of minute homage, and once sharply rebuk- 
 ing the page behind her chair for some trifling 
 iieglect. After the doctor had pronounced a 
 Latin grace, not a word more came out of his 
 mouth, although a portion of every dish went 
 into it, and he never took his eyes from his 
 plate except when he heard a word fall from 
 his patron. As Dudley gazed with admiration 
 upon Sir LioneFs lofty figure, flowing beard, 
 and splendid dress, while he sate surrounded by 
 a retinue of rich liveries, doing the honours of 
 his table with a graceful stateliness, or giving 
 orders to the musicians when to strike up a 
 toccata and when to cease, he was lost in astonish- 
 ment, not only at the magnificence of the knight''s 
 establishment, but that he should appear to 
 be as completely in his native element, as if he
 
 THE TOR HILL. 247 
 
 had been born to all the pompous observances 
 of nobility, if not of royalty itself. 
 
 " If it would like you better, Master Dud- 
 ley," said her ladyship, observing that he made 
 little progress with his meal, " to taste a sliver 
 from a venison-pasty, there is still some left of 
 a rare one that we had for dinner, which 1 can 
 vouch for as a toothsome one and a good." 
 
 With a distasteful shrug, that betrayed its 
 French origin, he declined the invitation, ob- 
 serving that such substantial fare was held in 
 small repute among the cooks of Gascony, and 
 at the Norman tables. 
 
 " Nay then," resumed his hospitable hostess, 
 " you get not such ale across the Channel as our 
 Somersetshire lads can brew, I warrant me ; and 
 if you ever tasted a better sop than this, my name 
 is no longer Madge." So saying, she turned up 
 a tankard that she had just emptied, and let- 
 ting die toast within fall upon a trencher, hand- 
 ed it across to him. Dudley mastered his re- 
 pugnance as well as he could, and thanked her 
 for the kind offer, but declared that he had 
 been too long accustomed to claret, refreshed
 
 248 
 
 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 with ice or snow, to be yet reconciled to malt- 
 brewage. 
 
 ** And what be the favourite dishes abroad ?" 
 inquired her ladyship ; " for I would fain see 
 you feed after a lustier fashion, if I knew the 
 fancy of your palate." 
 
 " We have mushrooms and caveare, snails 
 and frogs," replied Dudley, with an affectation 
 not uncommon in the travelled gallants of that 
 
 aera. 
 
 " Ods-pittikins, man !"" cried Lady Fitzmau- 
 rice ; " snails and frogs ! what vermin is this 
 for a Christian to eat ? Truly, if this be sooth, 
 an English dog lives better than a French duke. 
 Ye must be right glad to be among us again, 
 for ye see no such nastiness, I promise ye, at 
 the Tor House." 
 
 Beatrice rebuked her tartly for her ignorance 
 of foreign delicacies, and turned the conversa- 
 tion from a subject, on which she knew, by ex- 
 perience, that the dame would continue to dilate 
 so long as there remained any culinary matter 
 to discuss, or a single auditor to be found. 
 
 At the conclusion of the repast the table was
 
 THE TOR HILL. 249 
 
 cleai'ed, and the surnap being placed upon the 
 lower end of the board, was drawn along it by 
 two of the servants, and uncovered to display 
 its contents of fruit and confections ; when 
 pages again handed round ewers and napkins 
 for the company to wash themselves, as they 
 had done before the meal, an indispensable pro- 
 cess, at a period when, amidst all the luxury and 
 costliness of the table, so humble and necessary 
 an article as a fork had not yet been introduced. 
 Sir Lionel having for some time mingled in the 
 conversation, with greater familiarity than was 
 his wont, withdrew with his dwarfish secretary, 
 leaving Dudley to entertain her ladyship and 
 the beautiful Beatrice, which commission, so far 
 at least as the latter was concerned, he under- 
 took with the most ardent alacrity. In spite of 
 his disdain for every thing English, he had 
 been instantly struck by her distinguished and 
 dignified air, and although there were several 
 points of her dress which he considered in de- 
 cidedly bad taste, because not in the French 
 fashion, he felt a vehement desire to ingratiate 
 
 M 5
 
 250 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 himself into her favour. It is only characteris- 
 tic of that semi-barbarous aera, that, in pursu- 
 ance of this intention, he should seize an op- 
 portunity of informing her he had killed three 
 men in single duels, two of them his friends, 
 and all three his countrymen, whose names, as 
 well as the causes of quarrel, and the nature 
 of their fatal wounds, he minutely detailed ; 
 not only without compunction, but with an 
 evident feeling of complacency and triumph. 
 Besides these exploits, he mentioned several 
 rencounters, wherein he had been a joint actor 
 with others, and of which the results had been 
 little less sanguinary. Nor did he exaggerate 
 in these statements, for he had long taken les- 
 sons from the celebrated Vincentio, and, young 
 as he was, was considered one of the most ex- 
 pert and successful swordsmen at Calais. When 
 it is recorded that Beatrice listened to these 
 revolting details with pleasure and admiration, 
 it is but justice to add that there was not, per- 
 haps, a single young and noble damsel in Eng- 
 land who would not have done the. same ; so
 
 THE TOR HILL. 251 
 
 powerful is the example of kings, and the in- 
 fluence of fashion and custom, in utterly searing 
 the heart, and perverting the judgment, even 
 of females not otherwise deficient in sensibility 
 and intelligence. In viewing the matter thus 
 lightly, she had also the sanction of her own 
 father, who had sacrificed three of his neigh- 
 bours to his projects of aggrandisement. 
 
 The celebrated meeting in the Field of Gold 
 Cloth, of which, as already stated, Dudley had 
 been a witness, afforded him a subject of con- 
 versation, which had not yet lost any of its 
 attraction to knight, dame, or damsel, although 
 several years had elapsed since it occurred, and 
 various details of its magnificence had been 
 pubhshed. It may be worthy of notice, as a 
 proof of the insufficiency and quick exhaustion 
 of sensual and external pleasure^ that all the 
 delights of this nature, which the wealth of two 
 powerful monarchs could command, or the in- 
 genuity of their subjects could invent, were 
 found to be utterly worn out in a few days. 
 The English were said to carry their manors.
 
 252 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 and the French their forests, upon their backs, 
 but when tilts and tournaments, balls and ban- 
 quets, masks and pageants, when public pomp 
 and private vanity had all been displayed in 
 succession, nothing but a sickening Da Capo 
 was left, and the two young kings were fain to 
 part, because they had met for the avowed pur- 
 poses of pleasure, and there was no longer any 
 pleasure to be found. Although the chronicler 
 of this meeting expressly says — " well was that 
 man rewarded that could bring anythyng of 
 likyng or pleasure," nothing intellectual seems 
 to have entered into the composition of these 
 gorgeous inanities, unless we may dignify with 
 that name the pageants, which were made to 
 convey elaborate and obscure allegories, and 
 the punning devices and quibbling hierogly- 
 phics, anagrams, and letters, with which the 
 knights were covered, until they became so 
 many walking, or rather riding, riddles. Dud- 
 ley described the alarm of his countrymen, 
 when the French, by whom they were much 
 outnumbered at this interview, suddenly broke
 
 THE TOK HILL. 253 
 
 from their appointed station, and ran among 
 the English court and nobility, who, in the 
 groundless apprehension of treachery, stood fast 
 to their array. To the English monarch, he 
 assigned the palm of superior prowess, as well 
 as of personal comeliness, over all competitors, 
 while he did full justice to the valour and noble 
 bearing of Francis, declaring that he had been 
 accurately described by Hall as, " a goodly 
 prince, stately of countenance, merry of cheer, 
 brown-coloured, great eyes, high nosed, big 
 lipped, fair breasted and shoulders, small legs 
 and long feet.'" But as the same minute chro- 
 nicler had asserted that ten men"'s wits could 
 scarce declare the " apparel of the ladies, their 
 rich attires, their sumptuous jewels, their diver- 
 sities of beauties, and their goodly behaviour 
 from day to day,*" Dudley modestly dechned 
 a task to which an individual could only do a 
 tithe of justice. He contented himself, there- 
 fore, with describing the presents which he had 
 seen the royal brothers exchange upon parting, 
 Henry giving to Francis a collar of precious
 
 25-i THE TOR HILL. 
 
 stones, called balastes, garnished with great dia- 
 monds and pearls, which the French monarch 
 returned by a bracelet of rich jewels and rare. 
 In conclusion, he stated that many knights 
 and fair ladies, that came to see the nobleness, 
 were well content, for want of better accommo- 
 dation, to lie in hay and straw ; while he abun- 
 dantly confirmed the assertion of the chronicler 
 that, " as the conduit of the gate ranne wyne 
 alwaies, there were vacaboundes, plowmen, la- 
 borers, and of the braggery, wagoners and beg- 
 gers, that for drunkennes lay in routes and 
 heaps."" 
 
 Producing a little ivory table-book from his 
 pocket, the puny precursor of our solid and 
 multifarious albums, he now entertained his 
 auditors with a variety of riddles, subtleties, and 
 devices, which had been produced at the diffe- 
 rent banquets, and of which he had dihgently 
 taken note at the time. As this sort of recrea- 
 tion was in high vogue at the Court, Beatrice 
 indulged in it with great interest and alacrity, 
 until Lady Fitzmaurice reminded her that it
 
 THE TOR HILL. ^55 
 
 was time to bid their guest good night, when 
 she retired not a little delighted with their 
 handsome and vivacious visitant. Dudley was 
 now ushered with great ceremony to the carved 
 bed-room, whose oaken panels displayed the 
 family arms, badges, bearings, and devices, with 
 the old motto, " Espa-ance en Dieu ma com- 
 forieS'' Committing himself to the dormy bed- 
 curtains, paned with red and white, much more 
 complacently than he had done on the night 
 before, to Sib Favvcett's poledavy hangings in the 
 cubiculum dignified by the name of the Horn 
 Chamber, he remained for some time pondering 
 upon the cause of that general suspicion and evil 
 reputation that attached to his host, in whom he 
 had hitherto seen nothing to warrant such dark 
 surmises. His pantomimic manoeuvrings upon 
 the terrace during the storm remained indeed un- 
 explained, and Dudley was at aloss to understand 
 the pecuniary sources that could supply so prince- 
 ly an establishment ; but although the knight's 
 manner was stately, it was urbane and cour- 
 teous. His promises were fair, Dudley's recep-
 
 9^6 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 tion had been friendly, and he formed no inaus- 
 picious auguries as to the issue of his mission. 
 Perhaps the charms of Beatrice, which had 
 made a deeper impression than any he had 
 hitherto experienced, tended to prepossess him 
 in favour of Sir Lionel, towards whom he 
 resolved, at least, to exercise a dispassionate 
 judgment, unprejudiced by vulgar creduhty, or 
 priestly superstition. With this candid deter- 
 mination he fell asleep, and no sooner forgot 
 the father than he began to dream of the 
 daughter, with whom he had enjoyed so long 
 and animated a colloquy ; — but it is not in our 
 power to record that his thoughts ever travelled 
 so far as the neighbouring county of Wilts, or 
 reverted for a single moment to the daughter of 
 Sir Eustace Poyns, although he was formally 
 betrothed to her, and the young lady was pro- 
 bably expecting with the greatest impatience 
 the arrival of her affianced husband.
 
 THE TOR HILL. 257 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Gentle and mild, though sorely tried, 
 His genius thwarted, and denied 
 
 Its full expansion ; 
 The youthful lord of wide domains. 
 Imprisonment and scorn sustains 
 
 In his own mansion. 
 
 We hope it will not derogate from the de- 
 licacy of the ladies, nor be considered an im- 
 peachment of Sir Lionel's taste and hospitahty, 
 when we state that the family party and their 
 visitor sate down on the following morning, to 
 a breakfast consisting of a chet loaf and a man- 
 chet, a chine of beef, and a gallon of ale ; such 
 being the exact fare allotted for the same repast 
 to six maids of honour, at the luxurious court 
 of the then reigning monarch. In meals as well
 
 258 THE TOE HILL. 
 
 as manners a mixture of coarseness and mag- 
 nificence characterized the sera: although there 
 was a cupboard of plate of five stages, standing 
 in one corner of Sir Lionel's room, these homely 
 viands were served in dishes of pewter ; while 
 numerous servants in gorgeous liveries paraded 
 backwards and forwards with treen platters, 
 and wooden trenchers. Not anticipating an aera 
 when it would be deemed de la derniere infamie 
 to descend to malt-liquor even at dinner, or to 
 sip any thing for breakfast less fragrant and re- 
 fined than coffee, chocolate, or bohea, the party 
 recreated themselves very contentedly with the 
 breakfast we have described, conversins; during; 
 its progress upon the ceremonial of the min- 
 strel's feast, which was to be that day celebrated 
 at the Tor House. Sir Lionel expressed his 
 regret that such festivities should be held in the 
 mansion, so immediately after learning the death 
 of its regretted owner ; but he stated it to be an 
 annual festival and religious ceremony invari- 
 ably observed on the morrow of the Assump- 
 tion; one that was strictly enjoined by the te-
 
 THE TOR HILL. 259 
 
 nure of certain lands granted to the Abbey of 
 Glastonbury in former times, by the Hunger- 
 fords ; and at which his presence as representa- 
 tive of the lord of the manor, would be indis- 
 pensably required. The tenantry, the society 
 of minstrels, and the lower orders in general, 
 looked forward, he said, with so much expecta- 
 tion to this yearly j ubilee, that he could not re- 
 solve to disappoint them upon the very eve of 
 their enjoyment, or he protested that he would, 
 under the influence of his own melancholy feel- 
 ings, have been better pleased to countermand 
 the festival until the following season. 
 
 " Bone Deus, bone Deus!" Sir Lionel, ex- 
 claimed her ladyship — " that would little speed 
 us now, when all the gear has been provided, and 
 the steward's purse has cast its calf. Marry, I 
 would rather than a pocket full of ruddocks,* 
 that our guest had come some days sooner, so 
 we might have forgone this coil and waste, 
 and all for a rabblement of scrapers of rebecks, 
 
 * A cant term for gold coin.
 
 260 
 
 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 shawm-blowers, and vagabond pipers. A foul 
 evil upon the rogues that worry other people's 
 ears to please their own mouths, and liking no 
 music themselves so well as that of the cup and 
 can, are to be seen sprawling in the sun under 
 every ale-pole in the county." 
 
 " Nay, nay, my good Madge," said Sir Lionel, 
 — " hold not these gentle minstrels too cheap : 
 their sport is but of a day, and to-morrow thou 
 shalt again sit spinning with thy maids, and 
 sing them, an thou wilt, the ballads of the 
 'Mustard Tart,' ' Colin Clout,' and 'John Yea.'" 
 
 " Troth ! and better too than to hear these 
 swilling catterwaulers, when our stoutest two- 
 penny ale dances in their noddles, bawling their 
 ' Rumble down, tumble dow-n, hey go, now, 
 now ! ' Hold them too cheap forsooth ! Wot you, 
 Sir Lionel, how much we have disbursed al- 
 ready for this pestilent feast in chines and gig- 
 gots, flecks and gammons, brawn and sheep's 
 haunches.'' to say nothing of geese-pasties and 
 pudding-pies, and I know not how many hog- 
 gets of ale beside.?"
 
 THE TOR HILL. 261 
 
 " Truly that is a question which it may 
 better become my steward to resolve,'' replied 
 Sir Lionel, with his usual derisive expres- 
 sion. 
 
 " Alack ! alack ! it is well to have a noble 
 heart, and a stomach that cares not for cost, but 
 it is bad to feast to-day and fast to-morrow. The 
 best steward is the master, and the safest coffer 
 his own pouch. It is better to borrow of back 
 and belly, who will not ask us for it again, than 
 to owe to creditors who may cry * pay' in our 
 ears, Avhen we want to go to sleep. In good 
 sooth, at this rate golden royals had need to 
 grow like mushrooms." 
 
 " You forget, madam," said Beatrice redden- 
 ing with vexation, at this exposure of her lady- 
 ship's homely manners — " that these kitchen- 
 secrets can be of very little entertainment to our 
 guest." 
 
 " Sooth, child, and so I did, and by my holi- 
 dame, I crave his pardon, and my dear Sir 
 Lionel's too, if I have offended him ; though he 
 knows it is but my fear and fondness, if I
 
 262 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 ever make bold to question his good pleasure." 
 She looked at her husband as she spoke, with an 
 expression of submissive affection ; but observ- 
 ing that he turned aside without noticing it, 
 she heaved a sigh, and exclaiming to Beatrice 
 in a lower tone — " Would I had never said 
 word about this unlucky feast, for I had rather 
 bite off my tongue than anger him," she walked 
 towards the door. Observing, however, one of 
 the servants in the court as she passed an open 
 window, she called out " Robin ! Robin — tell 
 Cicely to come to me in the scullery with a 
 stone cruse, that I may give out the mustard ;" 
 — and then forgetting her recent wish in the 
 sudden regret at this fresh expense, she again 
 turned to Sir Lionel, exclaiming — " why, the 
 very mustard, which is up to two-pence farthing 
 the gallon, will be no scurvy charge, for these 
 hot-mouthed varlets will touch no meat without 
 it ; and then, a pize upon 'em, they must drink 
 double to cool themselves" — with which words 
 she quitted the apartment. 
 Sir Lionel then, observing that he must shortly
 
 THE TOR HILL. 263 
 
 prepare to accompany the minstrels, invited 
 Dudley to join the party and view the proces- 
 sion, as well as the sports and ceremonies of 
 the day, a proposal to which he acceded with 
 the greater alacrity when he understood that 
 he was to have Beatrice for a companion, and 
 heard her, as she retired from the apartment to 
 equip herself, order her palfrey to be in readi- 
 ness. As he learnt that an hour or more would 
 intervene before the assemblage, he promised 
 to meet the rest of the party at the appointed 
 time, and resolved to take a previous survey of 
 the house, the antique character of which, and 
 the numerous black-letter inscriptions upon the 
 walls, had excited his curiosity. In execution 
 of this purpose he wandered from one room to 
 another, until he found himself in the great hall, 
 where his attention was for some time engaged 
 by the old-fashioned armour and weapons fan- 
 tastically arranged along the walls, although he 
 could not examine them so closely as he wished, 
 on account of the tables which were prepared 
 on either side for the coming feast.
 
 264 THE TOE HILL. 
 
 While thus occupied, his attention was at- 
 tracted by the loud barking of a dog, which 
 sounded from above him, and concluding that 
 it proceeded from one of the round towers that 
 flanked the front of the great court, and form- 
 ed the extremity of the hall, he determined to 
 ascend it if possible, not only to liberate the 
 animal, which seemed to be somewhere confined, 
 but with the hope of obtaining a better view 
 of the surrounding country from the eminence. 
 On gaining the foot of the tower, however, he 
 found that the door leading into it, and which, 
 from its being covered with large nails and 
 bosses of iron, apparently formed the entrance 
 to some place of security, was carefully fasten- 
 ed with a large padlock. None of the servants 
 being at that moment in the way, to answer 
 interrogatories, he was about to abandon his 
 intention, and saunter through the porch to- 
 wards the causeway, when it occurred to him 
 that the interior of the corresponding tower 
 might not be equally inaccessible. In this ex- 
 pectation he was not disappointed ; the door
 
 THE TOR HILL. 9^65 
 
 was open, and he immediately began to ascend 
 the winding stone stair-case that led up to the 
 top of the building. At successive stages there 
 were small low rooms, lighted by loop-holes, 
 which exhibited no marks of recent occupation, 
 and he therefore continued mounting, till he 
 came to a chamber in which a window had been 
 pierced, looking inwards over the roof of the 
 great hall. If it had ever been provided with 
 a casement, it had now fallen out, a circum- 
 stance that immediately enabled him to per- 
 ceive the dog, by whose loud and impatient 
 barking he had been induced to chmb thus far. 
 It was a beautiful white spaniel, not in confine- 
 ment, as he had imagined, but exerting its 
 utmost strength in a succession of the most 
 vigorous leaps against the opposite tower, and 
 still renewing them, although, after clinging for 
 a moment to a slightly projecting stone, it fell 
 repeatedly backwards upon the roof. What 
 was Dudley's surprise, when, upon looking up 
 to ascertain the object which the dog was so 
 anxious to reach, he beheld two arms pro- 
 
 VOL. I, N
 
 266 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 truded from a grated v.dndow at some height, 
 and endeavouring, but ineffectually, to catch 
 hold of the poor animal as it sprang against 
 the wall. 
 
 A few minutes'* observation convincing; him 
 that he could safely walk along within the para- 
 pet that stretched from one tower to another, 
 Dudley jumped from the window, as the dog 
 had probably done before him, and advanced 
 towards the opposite building, where the spaniel 
 continued so eagerly leaping and barking as not 
 to notice his approach. Dudley's attention was 
 equally absorbed by the figure at the window, 
 for his previous surprise was exalted to astonish- 
 ment, when, upon coming nearer, he recognized 
 the identical youth whom he had encountered 
 in Wokey Hole, and to whose aid he was in- 
 debted for his extrication from a most perilous 
 predicament. He could not be mistaken in the 
 mild, sickly, and melancholy character of the 
 countenance which the toich had then so dis- 
 tinctly revealed to him, although he now ob- 
 fjerved, that, notwithstanding the boyishness of
 
 THE TOR HILL. S67 
 
 his dress, the figure before him was not quite 
 so youthful as he had first conjectured. 
 
 Deeming that the most acceptable service he 
 could render, in the first instance, would be to 
 effect a meeting between these two friends, for 
 such they appeared to be, he took up the dog, 
 and lifting him as high as he could, enabled 
 him to spring from his arms so as to be caught 
 by his master, who, with some little difficulty, 
 and a face suddenly changed into an expres- 
 sion of delight, at length drew him between the 
 bars. Dudley would hardly have imagined 
 it possible that the scene which ensued could 
 be so moving. Joy, tenderness, and affection, 
 were distinctly legible in the poor animal's face 
 as it moaned, and whined, and licked its mas- 
 ter's cheeks, and then buried its head in his 
 master's bosom ; while he observed with a sur- 
 prise, not unmingled with contempt, that, as the 
 youth caressed and bent over his recovered fa- 
 vourite, he let fall several tears upon its neck. 
 " You seem overjoyed at having your four- 
 footed companion restored to you," he at length 
 
 N 2
 
 268 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 exclaimed, after having for some time watched 
 their mutual endearments, in silence. 
 
 *' Well may I be so,'"* replied the youth in a 
 melodious voice, " for he is the only friend I 
 have upon earth." He sighed as he spoke, and 
 his countenance again saddened. 
 
 " May I inquire," said Dudley, " why you are 
 thus imprisoned ?" 
 
 " Because I ran away and hid myself in Wo- 
 key Hole." 
 
 " And why may you not wander thither, or 
 whithersoever it likes you ?" 
 
 " Because, as they tell me, I am sometimes 
 quite crazy, and always half-witted." 
 
 Finding that he was not recognized, Dudley 
 informed him that he was one of the strana-ers 
 whom he had so opportunely supplied with a 
 torch in Wokey Cave, and asked why he had 
 not answered them when they had first shouted 
 for assistance. 
 
 " I thought I heard my pursuers," replied 
 the youth, " and it was not until I had ascer- 
 tained you to be strangers, by your voices and 
 conversation, that I chose to reveal myself."
 
 THE TOR HILL. 269 
 
 Dudley next described the strange white ob- 
 ject they had seen in the water, of which he 
 professed himself anxious to obtain some ex- 
 planation. 
 
 " That must have been my poor dog Snow- 
 dropj whom you have so kindly restored to me, 
 and whose large dark eyes might well startle 
 you as they gleamed in that dim recess. Fol- 
 lowing me along the narrow passage I had dis- 
 covered to an inner cave, he fell into the water, 
 and was at first carried down by the stream, but 
 soon swam back. I am sorry he occasioned so 
 much alarm to one who seems to be so good and 
 gentle, though if you be so in real sooth, I know 
 not how you came here." 
 
 " I owe you much,'' said Dudley, "for the 
 important service you have already rendered me, 
 and would gladly, if you will allow me, become 
 your friend."" 
 
 " My friend ! my friend i'' exclaimed the 
 youth, clasping his hands passionately together, 
 " Oh no, no, no ! I have no friend in the wide 
 world but Snowdrop ; every body else despises 
 and shuns the poor simple Cecil Hungerford."
 
 270 THE TOK HILL. 
 
 *' I suspected that I was talking to the son of 
 my valiant uncle Sir Giles Hungerford, though 
 I little thought to find him so unworthily im- 
 prisoned in his own mansion, and I fear you will 
 hardly receive me as the friend I wish to be 
 considered, when I commence our acquaintance 
 by conveying to you the most doleful intelli- 
 gence you have ever heard. Prepare for bitter 
 tidings, and hate me not for bringing them, for 
 alas .' I am bound to tell you that your brave 
 father is dead." 
 
 " Dead !" exclaimed the youth, while his 
 countenance flared up with a transient joy, " I 
 am glad of it ! I am glad of it ! but hark ! 
 hark ! Captain Basset is coming ; I know it by 
 the growling of my dog. Away, away for God's 
 sake ! I shall be punished if I am discovered 
 talking to you." At these words lie waved his 
 hand rapidly as if to motion his visitant to an 
 immediate retreat, and instantly disappeared 
 from the window. 
 
 Fearful of exposing his unfortunate cousin to 
 some fresh severities, Dudley obeyed the signal
 
 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 271 
 
 and retired, at once bewildered and indignant at 
 what he had seen. His first impression had been 
 a decided conviction that Cecil was in perfect 
 possession of his faculties ; that the most dark 
 and sinister motives had originated the story of 
 his imbecility ; and that nothing but the vio- 
 lence and cruelty of an usurper had occasioned 
 his unwarrantable confinement. Although shad- 
 ed with melancholy, his countenance betoken- 
 ed amiability and a fine intelhgence ; from his 
 singing in the cave, it "was incontestable that his 
 ear was as accurate as his voice was melodious ; 
 his conversation in the commencement had been 
 rational and consistent : but to Dudley "*s appre- 
 hensions there was an effeminate, not to say a 
 diseased sensibility, in his weeping over his dog, 
 especially when he contrasted it with his un- 
 natural exclamation of gladness at his fathers 
 death, which, as he was evidently not deficient 
 in feeling, could only be attributed to a disor- 
 dered intellect. Persons aflflicted with a partial 
 aberration, or occasional imbecility of mind, 
 would, he well knew, converse for a time with
 
 ^72 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 perfect self-possession, and then unaccountably 
 deviate into incoherence and fatuity, a class of 
 sufferers in which he was disposed to place this 
 unhappy youth ; but still the mode and place of 
 his confinement were unwarrantable, and the ap- 
 parent severity of his treatment (for he talked 
 of being punished for merely conversing with a 
 stranger) was even more inexcusable. 
 
 If the stern wages of war had somewhat 
 blunted his feelings of humanity, Dudley's in- 
 dignation against the oppressor supplied its 
 place ; his pride, too, inflamed his sense of the 
 outrageous injustice exercised against one who 
 was his cousin; who was in some degree a 
 claimant upon his protection, in consequence of 
 the pledge he had given to his father ; ,who was 
 young and helpless, and the indisputable lord 
 and owner of the whole mansion, in an obscure 
 nook of which he was thus secretly immured. 
 Above all, when he reflected that Sir Lionel, 
 who had already usurped the estates, to which 
 the removal of Cecil would give him a legal 
 title under the will of Sir Giles, was universally
 
 THE TOR HI5,L. 273 
 
 considered a dangerous and desperate man, 
 ready to summon the powers of Hell to his 
 assistance, rather than fail in his designs, he 
 saw that there was not less reason to suspect 
 his treachery, than to dread his resentment if 
 he attempted to counteract it. Cecil, more- 
 over, was under age ; Sir Lionel was his legal 
 guardian ; if his cousin's perfect sanity were 
 established, it would not withdraw him from 
 the suspicious power of his present custodian ; — 
 if his imbecility were proved, it might only 
 throw him the more inextricably into his" 
 clutches, and enable him to fasten at leisure 
 the snares and fetters, which he seemed al- 
 ready preparing to coil and clasp around his 
 victim. Caution was, therefore, doubly neces- 
 sary, both on his cousin's account and his own ; 
 the least precipitation might occasion some atro- 
 city to be perpetrated towards the former, and 
 the numerous warnings he had received against 
 Sir Lionel convinced him that he himself would 
 r stand in no little peril should he hazard any 
 open arraignment of his conduct. The dis- 
 
 N 5
 
 274< THE TOK HILL. 
 
 covery he had made rendered it more than ever 
 desirable that Sir Giles"'s dying wishes should 
 be accomplished, by removing his unfortunate 
 son from his present situation, and placing 
 him with the Abbot of Glastonbury, who had 
 always enjoyed an unblemished reputation for 
 piety, virtue, and learning : by the exercise of 
 a little prudence and delay he was not without 
 hopes of succeeding in an object which he felt 
 it to be his duty never to abandon ; but for the 
 present he resolved to temporize, to be wary 
 and watchful, to endeavour to gain an insight 
 into CeciFs real state, to fathom, if possible, Sir 
 Lionel's designs, and to govern his subsequent 
 conduct in opposing them by the discoveries he 
 should make. Deeply revolving these plans in 
 his head, he walked slowly back to the dwelling- 
 apartments of the house, as the time was now 
 nearly arrived, which had been appointed for 
 commencing the sports and ceremonies atten- 
 dant upon the Minstrels' Feast.
 
 THE TOR HILL. 275 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 What impious man is this — what Cain 
 Abhorr'tl of God and man — whose reign 
 
 On guilt is founded? 
 At whose accursed presence fall 
 The symbols of our faith — and all 
 
 StSi't back astounded ! 
 
 The same Sir Nicholas Hungerford of the 
 olden time, for whose soul Friar Frank had been 
 appointed to say a mass upon Teneber Wednes- 
 day, as already recorded, having subscribed the 
 assignment of certain lands to the Abbey of 
 Glastonbury, on an Assumption day, had chosen 
 to connect that conveyance with the minstrels^ 
 feast, and to make the tenure dependent vipon 
 certain conditions to be observed by all future 
 abbots. If the devout Sir Nicholas did not
 
 276 THE TOR- HILL. 
 
 upon Other occasions evince more humanity 
 than he displayed in framing these regulations, 
 he probably did quite right in instituting these 
 masses for the repose of his soul; for the form 
 of the tenure ran thus — " After dinner all the 
 minstrels shall repair to the abbey-gate of Glas- 
 tonbury, without any manner of weapons, at- 
 tending the turning out of the bull, which the 
 bailiff of the manor is obliged to provide, and 
 is there to have the tips of his horns sawed 
 off, his ears and tail cut off, his body smeared 
 all over with soap, and his nose blown full of 
 beaten pepper. Then the steward shall cause 
 proclamation to be made, that all manner of 
 persons, except minstrels, shall give way to the 
 bull and not come within forty feet of him, at 
 their own peril, nor hinder the minstrels in their 
 pursuit of him. After v/hich proclamation, the 
 abbot's bailiff shall turn out the bull amons- the 
 minstrels, and if any of them can cut off a piece 
 of his skin, before he runs out of the island of 
 Avalon, or district of the abbey, then he is the 
 King of Music's bull ; but if he get out of the
 
 THE TOR HILL. 277 
 
 island sound and uncut, then he is the Lord 
 Abbot's again. 
 
 " If the bull be taken, and a piece of him cut 
 off, then he shall be brought to the bailiff's 
 house, and there collared and dressed, and so 
 brought to the bull-ring in the High-street of 
 Glastonbury, and there baited with dogs, the 
 first course in honour of the king of music, the 
 second in honour of the lord abbot, the third 
 of the town, and if more, for divertisement of 
 the spectators ; and after he is baited, the king 
 of music may dispose of him as he pleases.'"* 
 
 This barbarous customj the present abbot, a 
 virtuous and humane man, had strenuously en- 
 deavoured to abolish, proposing to offer to the 
 minstrels three times the value of the bull if 
 they would forego their annual cruelties. But 
 the prior, and father Barnabas, the sub-prior, 
 and the almoner, and the precentor, all grave 
 and reverend clerks, took prodigious alarm at 
 the very mention of the proposition, and con- 
 vened a meeting for the express purpose of op- 
 posing it, wherein it was very profoundly and
 
 278 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 cogently urged, that those were no times for de- 
 parting from the venerable institutions handed 
 down to them by their ancestors ; — that as the 
 abbey had regularly flourished ,and increased 
 since the commencement of this laudable prac- 
 tice, they could not do better than leave well 
 alone ; — and, that at such a revolutionary aera, 
 when rebels and atheists were trying to sap the 
 foundations of the church, nothing could be 
 more dangerous than to countenance any un- 
 principled innovations. Having adduced other 
 arguments, equally conclusive, and thrown out 
 various insinuations against newfangled doc- 
 trines, and those who make a morbid humanity 
 a cover for the most sinister designs, they drew 
 up their reasons for dissent in great form, and 
 presented them to their superior ; who, how- 
 ever he might condemn the practice, thought it 
 better to allow it, than to introduce discord and 
 disunion into his abbey. To this he was the 
 more strongly influenced, as he justly piqued 
 himself upon the harmony of his establishment, 
 and the good conduct of all its members ; and 
 was moreover aware, that as the suppression of
 
 THE TOR HILL 279 
 
 the lesser monasteries had already paved the 
 way for an attack upon the greater ones, he 
 could not be 'too guarded in preserving the 
 good name for superior concord and decorum, 
 which his abbey had hitherto retained. 
 
 The ceremony accordingly proceeded con- 
 formably to the intentions of its pious and 
 humane institutor, and the minstrels of the 
 Honour, joined by those belonging to the Tor 
 House, formed a procession, at the head of 
 which was Sir Lionel on horseback, while Dud- 
 ley and Beatrice, with a numerous train of ser- 
 vants and others, brought up the rear. In 
 this manner they proceeded to the bailiff's 
 house, where the king of music's steward com- 
 manded an oyez to be made by one of the band, 
 as crier of the court, ordering all minstrels with- 
 in the Honour to appear and do their suit and 
 service, on such pain and peril as the court 
 should inflict for their default. A jury of the 
 chief minstrels was then impanneled, to whom 
 the steward delivered a charge in commendation 
 of the ancient science of music, showing what 
 admirable efi*ects it has produced, Avhat kings
 
 280 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 and noble persons have been professors of it, 
 what manner of persons the professors ought to 
 be, and to admonish them to choose good and 
 skilful officers for the ensuing year. A second 
 oyez was then made, with a proclamation, that if 
 any persons could inform the court of fault or 
 offence committed by any minstrel within the 
 said Honour since the last court, rendering him 
 unworthy of his profession, they were then to 
 come forth and be heard. 
 
 For the honour of the Honour, and of the 
 musical brotherhood in general, we are happy 
 to record that there were no complaints against 
 scrapers of catgut, blowers of shawms, or beat- 
 ers of taborets ; so that the court, after going 
 through some other customary forms, elected 
 their king for the ensuing year, discussed a 
 light refection of cakes and ale, furnished by 
 the new monarch, and then prepared themselves 
 with great alacrity for the most important fea- 
 ture of the day — the bull-chase. When Dud- 
 ley understood the cruel nature of this proceed- 
 ing, he hardly expected Miss Fitzmaurice would
 
 THE TOE HILL. 281 
 
 wish to be a spectator of it ; but so far from 
 any compunctious visitings upon the subject, 
 she declared that it generally proved excellent 
 sport, and galloped gaily to the spot where the 
 devoted animal was to be turned out. In the 
 assemblage collected to witness the start, Dud- 
 ley recognized the bearward, whom he had en- 
 countered at Hollo wstone point, as well as his 
 old acquaintance Will Mattock, and such a 
 ruffian rabblement as might be deemed better 
 adapted to the rough and sanguinary exhibition 
 they came to witness, than the young and beau- 
 tiful Beatrice. Her indifference to the suffer- 
 ings of the animal, her enjoyment even of the 
 sport it afforded, did not emanate from hard- 
 ness of heart, so much as from a want of re- 
 flection, and a general impression that whatever 
 ministered to the pleasure of Sir Lionel Fitz- 
 maurice's daughter, must, as a matter of course, 
 be a justifiable recreation. Nay, when Dudley, 
 in the hope of extracting some remarks about 
 Cecil, ventured to regret his absence, she was 
 provided with a sneer against those who affected
 
 282 THE TOll HILL. 
 
 or possessed a morbid sensibility, and spoke 
 with a contemptuous pity of his poor cousin, as 
 one who was ten times more girlish than her- 
 self, who condemned all field-sports as barba- 
 rous, and could hardly endure the sight of blood 
 without fainting. 
 
 Dudley would fain have pressed this theme, 
 although the tone of her voice, not less than her 
 words, evinced that she considered his " poor 
 cousin"" a mere object of compassion ; but the 
 bull, maddened by the torture to which he had 
 been previously subjected, was now turned out, 
 and dashed across the meadows with a frightful 
 impetuosity, while Beatrice, giving her palfrey 
 the rein, and disregarding the regulation that 
 prohibited approach to any but the minstrels, 
 galloped close behind him. Not less expert as 
 a horsewoman, than fearless of the infuriated 
 animal, she skilfully avoided him when he turn- 
 ed round, renewed the pursuit when he again 
 rushed forward, and keeping ever upon his 
 track, seemed to be animated by the bellowing 
 of the beast, and the shouts of his still more
 
 THE TOR HILL. 283 
 
 brutal assailants. As we will do our readers 
 the justice to believe that not even the grace, 
 beauty, and courage of Miss Fitzmaurice, emi- 
 nent as they were, can reconcile them to the 
 unfeminine occasion selected for their display ; 
 as it pains us, moreover^ to exhibit in an un- 
 amiable point of view, one who had many re- 
 deeming traits in her character ; and finally, as 
 we have a profound abhorrence from all field- 
 sports, whether the object hunted be a roaring 
 bull, or a terrified hare, we shall beg leave to 
 pass over the remainder of this morning's sport, 
 (as hunters and baiters term their barbarities,) 
 and ask permission to rejoin the party, when 
 they again met in the great hall of the Tor 
 House to enjoy the minstrels' feast. 
 
 To allow time for the business and pleasures 
 of the morning, the dinner had been protracted 
 to the unusually late hour of two o'clock, and 
 Lady Fitzmaurice, anxious to combine plenty 
 with economy, had commenced, upon the system 
 of the modern French restaurateurs, by allow- 
 ing her guests pain d, discretion; a goodly loaf
 
 284 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 being placed beside each trencher. The meats 
 consisted of substantial joints, beef and pork 
 forming the staple, because their price had been 
 fixed by Act of Parliament at a halfpenny a 
 pound, while mutton and veal, which by the 
 same statute were ordered to be sold at half a 
 farthing more, were distributed with a propor- 
 tionally sparing hand. Flecks of brawn and 
 gammons, were, however, not stinted, because 
 they occasioned a considerable time in their 
 discussion, and saved other viands ; while geese, 
 pasties, and pudding-pies, being also considered 
 potent sedatives to the appetite, occupied their 
 full share of the tables. The caterers of feasts 
 were at that time relieved from all trouble as 
 to the vegetables; no carrots, sallads, turnips, 
 cabbages, or other edible roots, were produced 
 in England ; Queen Catherine herself, when she 
 wanted a sallad, having (it is said) been obliged 
 to dispatch a messenger for the purpose to 
 Holland. Salted fish and meat, which were the 
 general food of the common sort of people 
 during the greater portion of the year, were
 
 THE TOR HILL. 285 
 
 upon the present occasion but sparingly intro- 
 duced, because they were provocations to drink- 
 ing; and as the whole party were to go to 
 church after the dinner to make their offerings, 
 according to ancient custom, her ladyship sub- 
 mitted to the steward that it might be prudent 
 to dilute the ale with water, lest any of the 
 party, flustered with drink, should conduct 
 themselves indecorously at the altar. 
 
 Sir Lionel and his family occupied the upper 
 end of the cross-table at the head of the hall, a 
 large saltcellar being placed in the centre, and 
 the old observances retained as to the indivi- 
 duals of the household, who should sit above 
 it or below it. In this, as in every thing else, 
 the knight affected state. He never entered or 
 quitted his principal sitting-room, or began a 
 meal, without music, and as uj)on the present 
 occasion the regular minstrels were all guests, 
 -Jie had placed trumpeters in the gallery, who, at 
 a signal from himself, sounded a noise or flou- 
 rish, when Dr. Wrench, his clerical secretary, 
 pronounced a grace, and the meal began. As
 
 S86 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 all feasts have a family likeness to each other, 
 and, however interesting to the parties, are apt 
 to be rather revolting to the spectators, we shall 
 leave much of the present to the imagination of 
 the reader, contenting ourselves with stating 
 that Dudley, who was seated beside Beatrice, 
 would have enjoyed her animated discourse, as 
 well as the bustling scene around him with much 
 cordiality, could he have abstracted his thoughts 
 from his unhappy cousin, who, instead of sitting 
 in his own hall as the lord of the banquet, was 
 imprisoned in a narrow cell above it, to be 
 annoyed with the clatter and turmoil of guests, 
 whom he was not even allowed to see. 
 
 Although easily recognisable as the principal 
 personage in the hall, not less by the station he 
 occupied, than by his striking figure and splen- 
 did dress. Sir Lionel in other respects might 
 have been taken for a stranger to the party, 
 since his countenance, unaffected by the clamour 
 and hilarity with which he was surrounded,, 
 preserved its usual expression of a haughty 
 seriousness, or a slightly-marked contempt. His
 
 THE TOR HILL. 287 
 
 thoughts, indeed, were evidently wandering from 
 the scene before him, to which however they 
 quickly adverted when any omission of the cere- 
 monies, and almost regal observances, which he 
 exacted from all his servants in waiting upon 
 himself, gave occasion for his stern and instant 
 reprimand. The viands placed at his end of the 
 board Avere of superior quality to the rest, and 
 he had a page or cupbearer behind him, who 
 occasionally supplied him with Romagna wine, 
 or spiced Hippocras, from a silver tankard which 
 seemed to be reserved for his special use. 
 
 From a sense of duty to her husband, whose 
 magnificent style of living filled her with con- 
 stant apprehensions of embarrassment and debt. 
 Lady Fitzmaurice was for ever preaching the 
 virtues of economy, and enforcing her precept 
 by such petty savings as it fell within her pro- 
 vince to effect, although they were but as so 
 many drops redeemed from a perpetually flow- 
 ing stream of extravagance. Thus actuated, 
 she could be parsimonious and even mean, as 
 we have shown in the considerations that had
 
 288 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 influenced her in providing the present feast ; 
 but, however niggardly she might be in the 
 theory, and in cold blood, her kind and hospita- 
 ble heart expanded with a generous cordiality, 
 and her care-worn countenance assimilated itself 
 to the happy faces around her, when she wit- 
 nessed their hearty enjoyment of the feast, and 
 listened to the jovial sounds of mirth and laugh- 
 ter. As her conscience smote her for the penu- 
 riousness she had previously displayed, she per- 
 formed a characteristic penance by going round 
 to the different tables, and intreating the guests 
 not to spare the mutton and veal, to which they 
 were quite as welcome as to the cheaper viands. 
 She inquired into the wants of each board, 
 ordered fresh supplies as they were required, 
 and even took an opportunity of whispering to 
 the steward that he need not water the ale, as 
 the compfiny seemed to be of gentle and discreet 
 bearing, and would not, she Avas well assured, 
 do shame to their entertainment, by any irre- 
 verent or unbecoming demeanour in the church. 
 While she was thus bustling about, and dis-
 
 THE TOR HILL. 289 
 
 regarding all the cold and stiff stateliness whicli, 
 by the manners of the age, her rank rendered 
 it incumbent upon her to observe, Beatrice's face 
 had been kindling with an angry blush of 
 shame. She bit her lip, fidgeted upon her seat, 
 endeavoured by conversing eagerly with Dudley 
 to withdraw his attention from such ignoble 
 deportment ; but when the direction of his eye^ 
 and the smile of ridicule upon his face, convinced 
 her he had observed it, she lost all patience, and 
 accosted her ladyship as she passed with a pe- 
 tulant and tart rebuke, beseeching her not to 
 expose herself any farther by waiting upon such 
 an inferior crew, but to let the officers, servants? 
 and menials of the household, perform their 
 duty, while she resumed her own by returning 
 to her seat. 
 
 Although the manner, in Avliich this advice 
 was given, was not much more respectful than 
 the matter, her ladyship received it with great 
 meekness, exclaiming with a good-natured smile 
 — " Lack-a-day, lack-a-day ! daughter, I would 
 not for a handful of silver groats do any thing 
 
 VOL. I. O
 
 290 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 unseemly, but I could not sit still, if I thought 
 these poor fellows, so merry and so happy as 
 they are, needed aught to complete their good 
 cheer. Bless them ! it is a comfort to one's 
 heart to look upon them ; for though we often 
 have greater folks and finer doublets at the Tor, 
 we seldom hear such hearty laughter, or see such 
 gladsome faces. They have made merry, and 
 the feast is well nigh done ; so, as you wish it, I 
 will e'en sit me down again in my state." She 
 had scarcely done so, when there was a cry of 
 *' Silence, silence ! a speech from Master Captain 
 Basset," — a name which Dudley could hardly 
 hear without indignation, when he recollected 
 Cecil's words, and concluded that this was the 
 same individual, of whose severities he appeared 
 to stand in awe. On looking to the lower end 
 of the principal table he beheld a coarse, square- 
 set fellow, with black mustachios, whose fiery 
 and blotchy face betrayed habitual potations, 
 while his thick, hoarse speech, and blustering 
 manner, attested the frequency of his recent ap- 
 plications to a large ale-jack, that stood empty
 
 THE TOR HILL. 291 
 
 by his side. " My noble master, Sir Lionel 
 Fitzmaurice," he exclaimed ; " an' it please 
 your worship, you have feasted us like a kinp^, 
 and now, whilom I can speak plain English, I 
 thank you my master, and our good cateress 
 her ladyship, and the bonny-browed Mistress 
 Beatrice as well, and so we do all ; answer, you 
 scraping and piping rogues, answer ! and fill a 
 measure to all friends round county, who have 
 a penny in their pouch, and a stout heart in 
 their bodies, and a good sword by their sides, 
 to bid defiance to all Sir Lionel's enemies, 
 open or secret, shaven or unshaven, in cowl or * 
 cap, in thrum bonnet or scarlet hat. Shove it 
 about, handle your jugs, fill your pots, wet 
 your whiskers, and huzza for our host and 
 hostess, and may they long live to kiss one ano- 
 ther as merrily as cup and can." 
 
 After this specimen of ale-inspired oratory 
 the healths were drunk, the cheers were given, 
 and the party rising immediately afterwards 
 from table, were arranged by the king of music 
 and his officers, in proper order for proceeding 
 
 o 2
 
 S92 THE TOR HILL. . 
 
 to the church, and making the customary offer- 
 ings at Saint Mary's shrine. A Woodmote hav- 
 ing been held on the same day, for the election 
 of keepers and officers in the Chace, (as one of 
 the Hungerford manors was termed,) as well 
 as for killing the Saint-Mary buck, which they 
 invariably presented to the abbot on our Lady- 
 day, the Assumption, the wood-master and his 
 men came to swell the procession of the mins- 
 trels, the chief keeper bearing the buck's head 
 cabossed and moyed in silver, and all the others 
 can-ying green boughs in their hands. The min- 
 strels, who were now collected in the great court, 
 and joined as before, by the domestic band of 
 Sir Lionel, were also ranked in their proper 
 degrees and places, when the procession again 
 set forth, headed by the knight on horseback. 
 Dudley and Beatrice, also on horseback, follow- 
 ed the file, and the same numerous retinue of 
 Sir Lionel's officers, servants, and retainers, 
 most of whom were armed, brought up the 
 rear. Upon starting, the foremost keeper blew 
 R seek, to which all the others replied ; when
 
 THE TOR HILL. 2S3 
 
 they quitted the domain of the Tor House, he 
 sounded a recheat, which was answered in the 
 same manner ; and vipon reaching the abbey- 
 gate, both keeper and mhistrels struck up a 
 loud and merry peal, which seemed to make 
 the hollow chapels and cloisters of the sacred 
 pile start, as they echoed back such unhallowed 
 and unaccustomed merriment. 
 
 Glastonbury Abbey, at this period covering 
 with its numerous chapels and offices not less 
 than sixty acres of ground, and constituting one 
 of the most venerable, extensive, and magnificent 
 structures in England, could not be contempla- 
 ted, even in its exterior, without a deep feeling 
 of awe and admiration. The consciousness of 
 its having been founded at the very first intro- 
 duction of Christianity, the many miraculous 
 circumstances believed to be connected with it, 
 the recollection that it was the burial-place of 
 King Arthur and other illustrious personages of 
 history, the enormous possessions and revenues 
 attached to it, and the well known-power and 
 state of the abbot, which were scarcely less
 
 294 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 tlian regal, all tended to hallow and exalt it to 
 the mind ; while the sense was not less forcibly 
 struck by the solemnity of the gothic architec- 
 ture, and the stupendous proportions of the 
 whole sacred edifice. 
 
 However profound might be the reverence 
 inspired by the view of the exterior, the feelings 
 were almost overwhelmed by the sublimity of 
 the scene that presented itself on entering the 
 building, whose apparently interminable aisles, 
 and successive tiers of lofty arches, v/ere all 
 veiled in the dim religious light admitted 
 through scutcheoned and emblazoned windows, 
 a mysterious medium which deluded, while it 
 delighted, the eye, by concealing the extent of 
 the pile, and thus affording the greater play to 
 
 the imagination. The church, however, was in 
 
 * 
 reality of a greater length than any cathedral in 
 
 England, except old St. Paul's, while the magni- 
 ficence and beauty of its embelHshments were 
 commensurate with the grandeur of the design. 
 Beatrice having been requested by her father 
 not to dismount, as he himself merely entered
 
 THE TOR HILL. 295 
 
 the church in compliance with the ceremonial, 
 and wished not his daughter to pay the abbot 
 the compliment of visiting him, she remained on 
 horseback, and Dudley would willingly have 
 stationed himself by her side ; but as Sir Lionel 
 invited him to enter with them and view the 
 building, as well as the proceedings of the pro- 
 cessionists, he reluctantly quitted his horse, and 
 joined them. To add to the solemn effect of 
 the glorious edifice we have described, high mass 
 was being celebrated, at the time he entered it, 
 in one of the numerous and exquisitely enriched 
 side-chapels with which it was flanked, so that 
 although he could see none of the priests, minis- 
 trants, and choristers, a full-toned swell of har- 
 mony came pealing along the body of the church, 
 in which the mellow tones of the organ and other 
 wind-instruments were mingled with the deep 
 notes of the monks, and the exquisite sweetness 
 of youthful choristers, whose voices had been 
 taught all the melodious intricacies of art ; while 
 the faint odours of frankincense and myrrh 
 stealing upon the air and awakening ideas of the
 
 ^96 THE TOft HILL. 
 
 Deity to whose service they were consecrated, 
 at once steeped the senses in delight, and entran- 
 ced the soul in a profound and holy fervour. 
 
 While Dudley, although not gifted with 
 much sensibility, was thus forcibly impressed, 
 he thought he could observe upon Sir Lionel's 
 countenance a scornful smile, as he measured the 
 building with, his eye, and exclaimed in an iro- 
 nical tone — " This is the vain pomp that hath 
 swelled up the pride of prelates until they fancy 
 the church their own house, and themselves the 
 gods of it ; but the hour is coming when this 
 bloated pile, and the still more bloated pride it 
 hath engendered, shall both burst like a bubble." 
 
 As this speech was little in unison with Dud- 
 ley's present feelings, he made no reply to it, and 
 the procession passed on until they reached the 
 transept, or cross-aisle, leading down to the 
 chapel of our Lady, in which the service was per- 
 forming witn great pomp. The building itself, 
 in the richest style of the florid Gothic, received 
 a much stronger light than that in the chiu'ch, 
 through numerous arched perforations, which
 
 THE TOR HILL. 297 
 
 threw an unequalled airiness and elegance over 
 the whole structure ; advantageously displaying 
 the clusters of slender columns as they shot 
 loftily up, and were lost in the vaulted rich- 
 ness of the elaborately fretted roof, as well as 
 the splendid carvings of foliage and fruit, ten- 
 drils and flowers, entwining each other in the 
 compartments that separated the mouldings. 
 Around the altar, blazing with wax tapers, jew- 
 els, and pyx, patins, chalices, cruets, crosses, cen- 
 sers and font of silver, stood the numerous sacred 
 establishment of the building, all attired in the 
 imposing splendour prescribed by the Romish 
 ceremonial, and comprising every gradation and 
 age, from the hoary standard-bearers, whose locks 
 had been gradually whitened in the service of 
 the abbey, to the blooming young choristers, 
 and their still more juvenile brethren who were 
 gracefully waving to and fro their fuming vessels 
 of incense. But by far the most striking figure 
 of the whole was the venerable abbot himself, 
 arrayed in tunic and Dalmatic, a fringed mani- 
 ple, embroidered with crosses, entwined about his 
 
 o 5
 
 298 THE TOR IIILL. 
 
 left arm, a surcingle, twisted like a rope, tied 
 over his tunic, a grey amice on his head, with an 
 emblazoned cross over the forehead, and an illu^ 
 rainated missal in his left-hand, from beneath 
 which coloured rays seemed occasionally to flash, 
 as the light fell upon the rubies and diamonds, 
 jacinths and smaragds, of his numerous rings. 
 Wearing these in comphance Avith prescriptive 
 usage, as the property of the abbey, not his 
 own, and as emblems meant to dignify the office, 
 not its ministrant, he appeared to be the only 
 person insensible of bis magnificent investment ; 
 iK>r could any unprejudiced spectator deny, as 
 he lifted up his aged features, and fixed his 
 meek eyes beaming with devotion upon heaven, 
 tliat the splendour by which he was surrounded 
 served but to render more impressive the fervour 
 of his piety, and the unaffected humility of his 
 deportment. 
 
 Dudley, and the party to which he was joined, 
 continued in the transept until the service was 
 completed, when Sir Lionel, desiring them to go 
 forward and make their offerings, while he him-
 
 THE TOR HILL. 299 
 
 self remained where he was, the woodmaster 
 advanced and offered up the buck's head, moyed 
 in silver ; all the keepers then wound a rnorte 
 three times upon the horns, after which, each 
 of them made a penny offering, the minstrels 
 playing during the offering-time. The mu- 
 sicians, in their turn, deposited a penny each 
 to the accompaniments of the horns, when the 
 procession marched back towards the great 
 church in the same order, and Sir Lionel ad- 
 vanced to make his own offering. 
 
 From the unusual circumstance of his ap- 
 pearing at all in the church, and from the no- 
 toriety of the feud existing between himself 
 and the abbot, a deep interest was excited 
 among all the spectators, but more especially 
 with those attached to the sacred building, to 
 mark the nature of his offering, as well as the 
 demeanour of the two principals, who, though 
 they had been so long o})posing one another's 
 plans, had scarcely ever so closely encountered 
 as now. A low murmur ran through the re- 
 ligious throng, and they pressed slightly for-
 
 300 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 ward, as Sir Lionel advanced, with a stately gait 
 that made the marble pavement echo to his 
 steps, and a stern look that seemed to bid de-. 
 fiance to the whole assemblage. Awed by his 
 majestic figure, his formidable sword, to which 
 so many deeds of blood were attached, his fierce 
 eye, and his black flowing beard, not less than 
 by his reputation for an alliance with the Pow- 
 ers of Darkness, the young choristers shuddered 
 and shrank behind one another, as he passed 
 them ; while the monks themselves betrayed 
 emotions, in which a sentiment of strong dislike 
 seemed to be not unmingled with a mysterious 
 fear. Without noticing their looks, or altering 
 the expression of his own, Sir Lionel stalked 
 forward until he approached a large image of 
 Saint Mary, enclosed in a sort of shrine, which, 
 on account of its exquisite workmanship, and 
 the delicacy of its decorations, was always co- 
 vered with a curtain, except when service was 
 performed, on which occasions it was drawn up. 
 On his arriving opposite to this figure, the cur- 
 tain suddenly fell without being touched, an
 
 THE TOR HILL. 301 
 
 ominous event, which occurring under such pe- 
 culiar circumstances, and acting upon the pre- 
 conceived opinions respecting Sir Lionel, might 
 well startle the least superstitious observer, and 
 which was instantly magnified into a miracle, 
 when an unknown voice in the throng cried out 
 that he had seen the image lift up its arm ! 
 
 Consternation now sat upon every counte- 
 nance ; many of the gazers crossed themselves, 
 and repeated their prayers in a whispering tone, 
 others ejaculated words of terror ; all drew 
 back as he approached them ; every eye was ri- 
 vetted to him as if arrested by some appalling 
 and portentous vision. Sir Lionel, however, 
 passed on with unaltered stateliness and scorn ; 
 but he had no sooner deposited his offering 
 upon the altar, than the large silver crucifix 
 which was fixed above it, fell down amid the 
 sacred vessels, with a discordant clash, that sent 
 a thrill, an agony of awe, to every heart, and 
 occasioned a cry of horror to burst from almost 
 every lip. The young choristers, and the whole 
 of the female visitants fled through the church, 
 
 o 7
 
 302 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 shrieking in wild dismay. Some of the monks 
 stood aghast and motionless, like staring sta- 
 tues of terror ; others huddled together, and 
 cluno- to one another, as if for mutual protec- 
 tion ; while a third party imitated the example 
 of their abbot, who, falHng upon his knees, and 
 clasping his hands, exclaimed in a voice, ren- 
 dered loud and energetic by a mingled passion 
 of piety and abhorrence,— " Begone from among 
 us, thou unhappy man ! back to the abodes of 
 Dagon and of Bel ! back to the fellowship 
 of"satan, Behal, and Ashtaroth ! Avaunt ! 
 avaunt ! and avoid our presence ! And ye, oh 
 ye daemons, who have thus boldly dared to in- 
 vade this house of God, I exorcise ye by the 
 great Tri-une, whose cliosen temple ye have 
 profaned;— by all the grace acquired for us; 
 by the grace of faith conferred in baptism, of 
 fortitude in confirmation, of charity in the eu- 
 charist, of justice in penance, of hope in ex- 
 treme unction, and of prudence in holy orders, 
 and by all holy men and women, the saints of 
 God, who now inherit eternal glory, and by 
 all their merits, that you remove your pre-
 
 THE TOR HILL. 303 
 
 sumptuous power from this holy house of God, 
 and remain here no longer !''^ 
 
 While he had been uttering this exorcism, 
 which was part of the established form for ex- 
 pelling daemons from a haunted house, Sir 
 Lionel, surveying the kneeling pastor and his 
 fear-stricken flock, with a look of contempt- 
 uous rage that swelled his nostrils, and even 
 made his beard move up and down to their 
 angry inflations, strode athwart the chapel, 
 followed by the eyes of the whole assemblage, 
 which continued immovably fixed upon his 
 stately figure, until it was lost in the distant 
 incUstinctness of the church. 
 
 " Bring me abyssum," cried the abbot, rising 
 up from his knees — " and holy water, and the 
 crucifix, the sacred symbol of our faith ; and let 
 us pray unto Heaven and all its saints, for we 
 are not able of ourselves to avoid the snares 
 of the Devil. If the Lord said unto Job, 
 (he quoted the Latin Vulgate,) — "the nose of 
 the Leviathan pierceth through snares. Canst 
 thou (h'aw him out with a hook, or his 
 tousue with a cord which thou Icttest down 'i
 
 304 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 Canst thou put a hook in his nose, or bore 
 his jaw through with a thorn? Will he make 
 any supplication unto thee ? Will he speak 
 soft words unto thee ? Will he make a cove- 
 nant with thee ? Wilt thou take him for a 
 servant for ever ? Wilt thou play with him as 
 with a bird, or wilt thou bind him for thy 
 maidens ? Canst thou fill his skin with barbed 
 irons, or his head with fish-spears ? Behold 
 the hope is in vain ! Shall not one be cast 
 down even at the sight of him ?" — If we are 
 thus helpless to trample upon Leviathan, how 
 much more impotent are we to tread down 
 Satan and the power of Hell ! Wherefore, 
 bring me quickly the sacred herb, and the holy 
 water, and the blessed crucifix, and let us 
 purify our defiled chapel, and implore the aid 
 of Heaven and its saints, and all join in the 
 Ave Maria Gratia, before we again raise the 
 curtain, which the offended queen of Heaven 
 has drawn before her, that she mieht not gaze 
 upon one of the accursed, and a follower of 
 Belial, Beelzebub, and Abaddon."
 
 THE TOR HILL. 305 
 
 While the panic-stricken monks were slowly 
 recovering themselves, and beginning to move 
 about in execution of the abbot's orders, Dud- 
 ley, who in the bewilderment of the moment 
 had remained leaning against the column where 
 he had first placed himself, at length started 
 from his trance, and prepared to follow Sir 
 Lionel. He had traversed the chapel in execu- 
 tion of this purpose, and was entering the main 
 body of the church, when he felt himself tv/itch- 
 ed by the sleeve by some one behind him, and, 
 as he stopped and looked round, he beheld friar 
 Frank. Pointing to tlie entrance-door of the 
 church, where, in the strong light that streamed 
 through it, the form of Sir Lionel was still re- 
 cognisable, the monk shook his finger impres- 
 sively at him, exclaiming in his deep voice, 
 
 " Quare, quare hoc fecisti ? 
 Ubi tale didicisti, 
 Inimice crucis Christi ?" 
 
 and then turning to Dudley, he continued — 
 '* Had I not warrant, my son, when I bade
 
 306' THE TOR HILL. 
 
 you 'ware the hawk ? I trust you forgot not 
 after matin-mass this morning to say as I bade 
 you — " a csecitate cordis, libera nos, Domine ?**' 
 for so might there be hope that your eyes and 
 heart would be opened to the nature of the 
 Devil's vassal, beneath whose roof you were 
 going to abide." 
 
 " Indeed, good father, I forgot it altogether, 
 but I hope there could be no sin in the omission, 
 as I never suspected " 
 
 " Say not so, say not so ; could you not sus- 
 pect from what I told you, and are you not 
 certain from what you have now seen, that you 
 are a dweller with one before whom the sym- 
 bols of our religion fall prostrate, and at whose 
 approach the holy queen of Heaven draws a 
 veil before her eyes? He is great, powerful, 
 wealthy, ' sed fide bona, lubrica sunt fortunae 
 dona :' wherefore, I say once more, if you would 
 not be caught in the Devil's snare, and be matle 
 a bondsman of Beelzebub, avoid him and his 
 house, as you would flee from the wrath to 
 come."
 
 THE TOR HILL. 307 
 
 " Such is my settled purpose, so soon as I 
 have discharged the commission, Avith which I 
 stand intrusted, and which a sense of duty, the 
 discoveries I had previously made, and what I 
 have now observed, all impel me the more reso- 
 lutely to accomphsh. If you again find me in 
 his power when this is done, I vow to offer a 
 silver crucifix to the shrine of St. Mary, three 
 times more weighty than that which has been 
 just thrown down." 
 
 " You are now in his power, and may do well 
 to fulfil the vow if you escape ; but 'ware the ex- 
 ample of the Welshman, who, in a storm, vowed 
 a taper as big as the mast of a ship, to be in port; 
 but, on shore, paid our Lady with a little candle, 
 offering: her to hang him if she ever took him 
 on the sea again." 
 
 " Fear me not, father, fear me not, and take 
 
 hearty thanks for your friendly counsel, which 
 
 shall not be lost upon me; but I may no longer 
 
 ' tarry, for yonder I see Sir Lionel searching 
 
 around as if he were awaiting me." 
 
 " By the holy blood of Hales ! you would do
 
 308 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 well to let him wait for you during the remain- 
 der of your life, for you are better sped where 
 you are. When a bishop, who was saying his 
 breviary, once received an order to wait upon 
 Charlemagne, he first finished his holy office, 
 and then told the king he would have come 
 sooner, but that he had been speaking to a 
 greater king than himself. So I tell you, my 
 son, you are better engaged with a servant of 
 Christ, although one of the humblest, than with 
 the mighty Lucifer, even should he beckon you 
 with a sceptre, and tempt you with a crown. He 
 goeth about like a raging lion, seeking whom he 
 may devour. Look not into his open mouth, but 
 do your commissioned purpose quickly ; fly from 
 the accursed one, and then seek me out, that we 
 may sing together, in gratitude for your deli- 
 verance, — Hosanna in excelsis ! till when — salve 
 et vale!" 
 
 The friar turned back towards the chapel, 
 whence the sounds of the Ave Maria, chanted 
 with more than usual reverence by the astound- 
 ed monks, were already beginning to be heard,
 
 THE TOK HILL. 809 
 
 while Dudley hurried forward to the gate of 
 the great church. Sir Lionel had rode on with 
 Beatrice ; but a horse and servant being left for 
 him, he mounted and presently overtook them. 
 The }3resence of the daughter prevented, him 
 from making any allusion to the mysterious, if 
 not miraculous, occurrences of which he had been 
 a witness : Sir Lionel preserved a stern silence; 
 and but little colloquy passed between his com- 
 panions, as Dudley was not in a frame of mind 
 for trivial conversation, and Beatrice was much 
 too haughty to intrude discourse where it was 
 not graciously welcomed, and eagerly returned. 
 In this unpleasant mood, where all felt the awk- 
 wardness of the protracted silence, and yet each 
 was too proud or too reserved to break it, they 
 rode on till they reached the out-posts of the 
 Tor House, though whose embattled gateway 
 Dudley could not again pass, without a mis- 
 giving conviction that he was placing himself in 
 the hands of a dark and dangerous man, who, 
 having imprisoned the rightful owner, and 
 usurped a power and a domain to which he was
 
 310 THE TOR HILL. 
 
 not entitled, appeared resolved to maintain 
 them, even by tlie sacrifice of his own soul, 
 and an alliance with the dread enemy of man- 
 kind. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 LONDON : 
 PRINTED BY S. AND K. BENTLEY, DORSET STREET.
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below 
 
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