Epilogue.A few words respecting the fate of our chief characters must close our story. We need not tell our readers the future of the great earl—it is written on the pages of history. But his work did not die on the fatal field of Evesham. It lived in the royal nephew, through whose warlike skill he was overthrown, and who speedily arrived at the conclusion that most of the reforms of his uncle were founded upon the eternal principles of truth and justice. Hence that legislation which gained for Edward, the greatest of the Plantagenets, and the first truly English king since Harold, the title of the “English Justinian.”Hubert was not with his lord when he fell. He had been selected to be of the household of Simon’s beloved Countess Eleanor, and he was with her at Dover when the fatal news of Evesham arrived. He could only cry, “Would God I had died for him,” while the countess abandoned herself to her grief.Edward soon sought a reconciliation with the countess, who, it will be remembered, was his father’s sister; which being effected, she passed over to France with her only daughter, to join her sons already there; and King Louis received her with great kindness, while Hubert and his companions of her guard were received into the favour of Edward, and exempted from the sweeping sentence of confiscation passed in the first intoxication of triumph upon all the adherents of the Montforts.Brother Roger died in peace at a great age, at the Priory of Lewes, growing in grace as he grew in years, until at last he passed away, “awaiting,” as he said, “the manifestation of the sons of God,” amongst whom, sinner though he had been, he hoped to stand in his lot in the latter days.Ralph of Herstmonceux, who had been happily preserved from death at the battle of Evesham, followed his father to Dover, where they joined the countess in the defence of that fortress, and shared the forgiveness extended to her followers. So completely did Edward forgive the family, that we read in theChronicleshow King Edward, long afterwards, honoured Herstmonceux with a royal visit on his road to make a pious retreat at the Abbey of Battle. Ralph succeeded his father, and we may be sure lived on good terms with Hubert.Hubert followed the banner of Edward Longshanks both in Wales and Scotland ere he came home to his wife and children, satiated at last with war, and spent the rest of his days at Walderne. He died at a good old age, and was buried as a crusader in Lewes Priory, with crossed legs and half-drawn sword, where his tomb could be seen until the sacrilegious hands of the minions of Thomas Cromwell destroyed that noble edifice.Mabel of Walderne retired, at her son’s persuasion, to a convent at Mayfield, where she ended her days in all the “odour of sanctity,” and Martin closed her eyes.And lastly we have to tell of our Martin. He remained in the Andredsweald until he had completely succeeded in reconciling the outlaws to the authorities {37}, and he had seen them, his “merrie men,” settle down as peaceful tillers of the soil, or enter the service of the knights and abbots as gamekeepers, woodsmen, huntsmen, and the like; at his strong recommendation and assurance that he would be surety for their good behaviour—an assurance they did their best to justify.And how shall we describe his labour of love—his work as the bondsman of Christ? But after the death of his mother, his superiors recalled him to Oxford, as a more important sphere, and better suited to his talents; where the peculiar sweetness of his disposition gave him a great influence over the younger students. In short he became a power in the university, and died head of the Franciscan house, loved and lamented, in full assurance of a glorious immortality. And they put over his tomb these words:We know that we have passed from death to life,because we love the brethren.—Vale Beatissime.From the south wall of Walderne Church project or projected two iron brackets with lances, whereon hung for many a generation the banners of Sir Ralph (alias Hubert) and his son Laurence.The boast of chivalry, the pomp of power,And all that beauty, all that wealth ere gave,Await alike the inevitable hour,The paths of glory lead but to the grave.THE END.
A few words respecting the fate of our chief characters must close our story. We need not tell our readers the future of the great earl—it is written on the pages of history. But his work did not die on the fatal field of Evesham. It lived in the royal nephew, through whose warlike skill he was overthrown, and who speedily arrived at the conclusion that most of the reforms of his uncle were founded upon the eternal principles of truth and justice. Hence that legislation which gained for Edward, the greatest of the Plantagenets, and the first truly English king since Harold, the title of the “English Justinian.”
Hubert was not with his lord when he fell. He had been selected to be of the household of Simon’s beloved Countess Eleanor, and he was with her at Dover when the fatal news of Evesham arrived. He could only cry, “Would God I had died for him,” while the countess abandoned herself to her grief.
Edward soon sought a reconciliation with the countess, who, it will be remembered, was his father’s sister; which being effected, she passed over to France with her only daughter, to join her sons already there; and King Louis received her with great kindness, while Hubert and his companions of her guard were received into the favour of Edward, and exempted from the sweeping sentence of confiscation passed in the first intoxication of triumph upon all the adherents of the Montforts.
Brother Roger died in peace at a great age, at the Priory of Lewes, growing in grace as he grew in years, until at last he passed away, “awaiting,” as he said, “the manifestation of the sons of God,” amongst whom, sinner though he had been, he hoped to stand in his lot in the latter days.
Ralph of Herstmonceux, who had been happily preserved from death at the battle of Evesham, followed his father to Dover, where they joined the countess in the defence of that fortress, and shared the forgiveness extended to her followers. So completely did Edward forgive the family, that we read in theChronicleshow King Edward, long afterwards, honoured Herstmonceux with a royal visit on his road to make a pious retreat at the Abbey of Battle. Ralph succeeded his father, and we may be sure lived on good terms with Hubert.
Hubert followed the banner of Edward Longshanks both in Wales and Scotland ere he came home to his wife and children, satiated at last with war, and spent the rest of his days at Walderne. He died at a good old age, and was buried as a crusader in Lewes Priory, with crossed legs and half-drawn sword, where his tomb could be seen until the sacrilegious hands of the minions of Thomas Cromwell destroyed that noble edifice.
Mabel of Walderne retired, at her son’s persuasion, to a convent at Mayfield, where she ended her days in all the “odour of sanctity,” and Martin closed her eyes.
And lastly we have to tell of our Martin. He remained in the Andredsweald until he had completely succeeded in reconciling the outlaws to the authorities {37}, and he had seen them, his “merrie men,” settle down as peaceful tillers of the soil, or enter the service of the knights and abbots as gamekeepers, woodsmen, huntsmen, and the like; at his strong recommendation and assurance that he would be surety for their good behaviour—an assurance they did their best to justify.
And how shall we describe his labour of love—his work as the bondsman of Christ? But after the death of his mother, his superiors recalled him to Oxford, as a more important sphere, and better suited to his talents; where the peculiar sweetness of his disposition gave him a great influence over the younger students. In short he became a power in the university, and died head of the Franciscan house, loved and lamented, in full assurance of a glorious immortality. And they put over his tomb these words:
We know that we have passed from death to life,because we love the brethren.—Vale Beatissime.
From the south wall of Walderne Church project or projected two iron brackets with lances, whereon hung for many a generation the banners of Sir Ralph (alias Hubert) and his son Laurence.
The boast of chivalry, the pomp of power,And all that beauty, all that wealth ere gave,Await alike the inevitable hour,The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
THE END.