ages; and his encounter with the Danish champion Colbrand, as well
as his victory over the Dun Cow, was the favourite subject of the
wandering minstrel. Dugdale has given the narrative of his battle
with Colbrand, which he seems inclined to believe to be true in the
main features, although “the monks may have sounded out his praises
hyperbolically.” According to him, “in the 3 year of King
Athelstan, A.D. 826, the Danes having invaded England cruelly
wasted the countrys where they marcht, so that there was scarce a
Town or Castle that they had not burnt or destroyed almost as far as
Winchester,” where the King resided, and to whom they sent a message,
requiring him to resign his crown to their generals, holding his power
at their hands, and paying them yearly tribute for the privilege of
ruling; or, that the whole dispute for the kingdom be determined in
a single combat, by two champions, for both sides. The King having
chosen the latter alternative, enjoins a fast for three days, and in
great anguish of heart that Guy, the famous warrior, is absent on a
pilgrimage to the Holy Land, prays Heaven for assistance. An Angel
appears to the King as he lies on his bed, and directs him to arise
early on the morrow, and take two bishops with him to the North gate
of the city, and stay there “till the hour of Prime,” until the poor
people and pilgrims arrive, among whom he must choose a champion, and
the choice must fall on him who goes barefooted, with a wreath of
white roses on his head. The King goes, and meets the Pilgrim, accosts
him, and asks his championship, which he hesitates to give, excusing
himself on the ground of his weakness with much travel, and exhorts him
to seek a fitter help. To this the King bitterly answers, “I had but
one valiant knight, which was Earl of Warwick, called Guy, and he had
a courageous servant, named Sir Heraud de Ardene; would to God I had
him here, for then should this duel be soon undertaken, and the war
finished, and as he spake these words the tears fell from his eyes.”
The Pilgrim is moved, and ultimately consents, and after three weeks
spent in prayer and preparation, the battle begins. Colbrand “came so
weightily harnessed that his horse could scarce carry him, and before
him a cart loaded with Danish axes, great clubs with knobs of iron,
squared bars of steel, lances, and iron hooks, to pull his adversary
to him.” The giant uses a bar of steel in the combat, which lasts the
whole day--Guy in the end proving victorious, and taking a farewell of
the King to whom he declares himself, goes towards Warwick, and thence
to a hermit in its neighbourhood, living with him till his death, and
succeeding him in his cell until his own decease. The spot is still
pointed out, and bears the name of Guy’s Cliff.
But this is not the only Giant story connected with the family. Their
well-known crest or cognisance is said to come from one Morvidus, an
Earl of Warwick in the days of King Arthur, “who being a man of great
valour slew a mighty giant in a single duell, which gyant encountered
him with a young tree pulled up by the root, the boughs being snag’d
from it; in token whereof, he and his successors, earles of Warwick,
in the time of the Brittons, bore a ragged staff of silver in a sable
shield for their cognisance.” Such were the old fables with which
our ancient family histories were obscured, or rendered romantic and
wonderful to the subordinate classes.
[67] From the top of Guy’s Tower, ascended by 133 steps, the view is
most fine and most extensive. Far stretching in the distance are seen
the tall spires of the Churches at Coventry; nearer is the ruined
Castle of Kenilworth; still nearer, are Guy’s Cliff and Blacklow Hill,
famous in legend and story; Leamington appears lying at our feet; while
“Stratford-on-the-Avon” seems almost “within arms-reach;” far off are
the hills of Shropshire; on all sides are fertile plains, of seemingly
illimitable extent, with here and there dark woods and forests; the
Panorama is inconceivably beautiful and grand.
[68] The following legend is given by Dugdale, as extracted from a MS.
penned about the time of Edward IVth:--“Hugh the son of one Richard,
holding the lordship of Hatton and likewise this place of Wroxhall, of
Henry earl of Warwick, was a man of great stature; which Hugh going to
warfare in the Holy Land was taken prisoner, and kept in great hardship
for 7 years: at length he addressed his prayers to St. Leonard, the
patron of his church, who appeared to him in a dream, in the habit of
a black monk, and bade him arise and go home and found at his Church
a house of nuns of St. Benet’s order. He treated it as a dream, but
on its repetition joyfully made a vow to God and S. Leonard that he
would perform his commands: which vow was no sooner made than he was
miraculously carried thence with his fetters, and set in Wroxall woods,
not far from his own house, yet knew _not_ where he was, until a
shepherd of his own accidentally found him, and though much affrighted
(in respect of his being overgrown with hair), after some communication
discovered all to him. His lady and children being apprised of the
circumstance, came forthwith to him, but believed not that he was her
husband till he shewed her a piece of a ring that had been broken
between them. Having given thanks to God, our Lady, and S. Leonard, and
praying for some divine revelation as to the site for his monastery, he
was specially directed by certain stones pitched into the ground in the
very place where the altar was afterwards set. On its completion two of
his daughters were made nuns therein, one of the nuns of Wilton being
fetched to direct them in their rule of S. Benedict.”
[69] Extract from a MSS. written about 1690, by Dr. Markhouse, a
prebendary of Carlisle, upon the “Deanery of Westmorland,” and
containing much curious information upon ecclesiastical matters in that
county.
[70] “Sir William Stirkland in the reign of King John or Henry III.
married Elizabeth, only daughter and heiress of Ralph D’Aincourt and
his wife Helen.”
“This piece of sculpture is one of the earliest instances of the
quartering of arms, and is a curious example of the preference given
to the heiress with whom the family had become allied, the arms of
D’Aincourt being placed first--a circumstance which often occurred at
that early period of heraldic art. The quartered coat was not in use
before the time of Edward III.”
[71] “The family is a branch of the Howards, Dukes of Norfolk: the
first Earl was only son of the fourth Duke of Norfolk by his second
marriage, and was a distinguished naval commander _temp._ Elizabeth.
In 1605 this peer was employed in the search about the houses of
Parliament, which terminated in the discovery of the Gunpowder Plot;
in 1613 he was Lord High Treasurer of England. His second son was the
first Earl of Berkshire.”--DODD’S _Peerage_.
[72] “The reason why the name of Fountains was given to this Abbey is a
matter of some doubt. It is not an improbable conjecture that the monks
might think it conducive to their honour, and that of their house, to
give it the appellation of the place where their founder, St. Bernard,
drew his first breath--Fountaines in Burgundy. This opinion is also
corroborated by the consideration that no remarkable springs break out
on this spot which could have given rise to the appellation. But the
learned and ingenious historian of Craven, Whitaker, has given another
derivation of the word. Skell, the rivulet that washes its walls,
signifies a fountain; and he observes that the first name assigned
to this house was the Abbey of Skeldale; but the monks, who always
wrote in Latin, translated it ‘De Fontibus;’ and afterwards, when the
original name was forgotten, it was translated ‘Fountains.’”
[73] George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, died at a small inn at
Kirby-Moorside, on the 15th April, 1687. He was buried in the
churchyard, but the precise spot is unknown. The following is a literal
extract from the register which records his burial:--
“1687, April 17. Gorges vilaus Lord dooke of bookingam.”
He must have gone to the grave unattended except by the parish
officials. The Earl of Arran accidentally passing by the inn while he
was dying, gave, indeed, directions to see him “decently interred.”
But the memory of his grave has faded; there is not only no stone to
preserve his name, but even tradition cannot point out the spot upon
which to place it, so that his ashes may be covered by a poor monument.
The reader will recall the famous lines of Pope:--
“In the worst inn’s worst room,” &c.
The room is still shewn to the curious; it is a small and poor chamber,
not the “worst” in the house, although a strange contrast to the
princely halls the licentious duke had so long inhabited:--
“No wit to flatter left of all his store,
No fool to laugh at, which he valued more;
There, victor of his health, his fortune, friends,
And fame, this lord of useless thousands ends.”