The Lances of Lynwood | Page 7

recognition of the feudal superiority of
the Clarenhams; and though the success of the royal party at Evesham

occasioned his liberation, his possessions were greatly diminished. Nor
had the turmoils of the reign of Edward II. failed to leave their traces on
the fortunes of the Lynwoods. Sir Henry, father of the present Knight,
was a staunch adherent of the unfortunate monarch, and even joined the
hapless Edmund, Earl of Kent, in the rising in which that Prince was
entrapped after the murder of his brother. On this occasion, it was only
Sir Henry's hasty flight that preserved his life, and his lands were
granted to the Baron Simon de Clarenham by the young Edward III.,
then under the dominion of his mother Isabel, and Roger Mortimer; but
when at length the King had freed himself from their trammels, the
whole county of Somerset rose to expel the intruders from Lynwood
Keep, and reinstate its true master. Nor did Simon de Clarenham make
much resistance, for well knowing that an appeal to the King would
occasion and instant revocation of the grant, he judged it advisable to
allow it to sleep for the present.
Sir Henry Lynwood, therefore, lived and died unmolested. His eldest
son, Reginald, was early sent to the Royal Camp, where he soon
distinguished himself, and gained the favour and friendship of the
gallant Prince of Wales. The feud with the Clarenhams seemed to be
completely extinguished, when Reginald, chiefly by the influence of
the Prince, succeeded in obtaining the hand of a lady of that family, the
daughter of a brave Knight slain in the wars in Brittany.
Since this time, both the Baron de Clarenham and his son, Sir Fulk, had
been on good terms with the Knight of Lynwood, and the connection
had been drawn still closer by the Baron's second marriage with the
Lady Muriel de la Poer, a near relative of Sir Reginald's mother. Many
a time had Dame Eleanor Lynwood ridden to Clarenham castle, under
the escort of her young brother-in-law, to whom such a change from the
lonely old Keep afforded no small delight.
Eustace, the only one of Sir Henry's younger children who survived the
rough nursing or the over-nursing, whichever it might be, that thinned
in former days the families of nobles and gentleman, might as well, in
the opinion of almost all, have rested beneath a quaint little image of
his infant figure, in brass, in the vaults of the little Norman chapel; for
he was a puny, ailing child, apt to scandalize his father and brother, and
their warlike retainers, by being scared at the dazzling helm and
nodding crest, and preferring the seat at this mother's feet, the fairy tale

of the old nurse, the song of the minstrel, or the book of the Priest, to
horse and hound, or even to the sight of the martial sports of the
tilt-yard.
The last five years had, however, wrought a great change in him; he
began to outgrow the delicacy of his constitution, and with it, to shake
off his timidity of disposition. A diligent perusal of the romances of
chivalry filled him with emulation, and he had applied himself ardently
to all knightly exercises, looking with great eagerness to the time when
he might appear in the Prince's court. He had invested it with all the
glory of the Round Table and of the Paladins; and though he knew he
must not look for Merlin or the Siege Perilous, the men themselves
were in his fancy Rolands and Tristrems, and he scarcely dared to hope
he could ever be fit to make one of them, with all his diligent attention
to old Ralph's instructions.
Some of Ralph's manoeuvres were indeed rather antiquated, and
afforded much amusement to Gaston d'Aubricour, who was never
weary of teasing the old seneschal with descriptions of the changes in
the fashion of weapons, tourneys, and machines, and especially
delighted in histories of the marvellous effects of gunpowder. Ralph
would shake his head, vow that it would soon put an end to all true
chivalry, and walk off to furbish his favourite cross-bow, with many a
murmured reflection on the folly of quitting good old plans, and
especially on that of his master, who must needs bring home a gibing
Gascon, when honest English Squires were not scarce.
Very different was the state of the old Keep of Lynwood from the quiet,
almost deserted condition, in which it had been left so long, now that
the Knight had again taken his wonted place amongst the gentry of the
county. Entertainments were exchanged with his neighbours, hunting
and hawking matches, and all the sports of the tilt-yard, followed each
other in quick succession, and the summer passed merrily away.
Merrily, that is to say,