we are much indebted, and we cannot, perhaps, better shew our sense of the value of their communications, than by expressing a hope that we may continue to receive their support during our future labours. Nor must we omit to thank such of our friends whose contributions have not obtained the wished-for place in our columns, while we trust that our decisions will be considered as the result of a candid and impartial investigation of their merits. Having thus pointed out the several attractions of the present volume, and discharged our debt of gratitude to its supporters, we have only to add that our efforts for the future shall be redoubled, and that nothing shall be wanting on our part to render the "OLIO" worthy of that patronage which has hitherto been extended towards it. Ellustrated Article. ORDEAL BY BATTLE. A LEGEND OF WALLBROOK. Sir Launcelot.-O, shame to knighthoode! Thy sworde is sullied by foule murder's staine, hande Shall do that same for me.-OLD PLAY. See page 8. speaks with such allowable pride?Where is the splendid palace which once stood in this neighbourhood?-not forgetting the stronghold, Tower Royal, at no great distance, and of which nothing now remains but the name. They habited them, and only he who delights are gone like those who raised and inin dwelling on things long gone by, can trace out their various scites. In the reign of Richard the First, Wallbrook was not, as it is now, hidden from view. It was then a rapid stream which passed over the scite of the present flowed through Dow-Gate, and emptied street, and rushing down Dowgate Hill, itself into the Thames. PERHAPS no spot in the metropolis of England has undergone so many transformations as that in the neighbourhood of the far-famed London Stone. Dow- day on which he of the Lion Heart entered It was on the evening preceding the Gate has long vanished, with its fellows; London in triumph, after his return from the rapid Wall-brook has for many cen- captivity in Austria, long after the vesturies been covered over, and London per-bell had rung, that two ruffianly Stone, that object of never-ending dis-looking men were standing under the pute and conjecture among the learned shade of a penthouse on the banks of this and curious, has crept into the wall of stream, engaged in earnest conversation. the church of St. Swithin. Where, I Their gait and air were those of retainers, pray you, are those magnificent churches or armed vassals. Their jerkins were of which the old city historian, Stowe, of coarse green serge, over which they VOL. IV. B 85 wore jacks or actons of tough bull's hide, at that time the only defensive armour for the body worn by the common soldiers, their legs were bare from the middle of the thigh nearly to the ankle, and their feet were covered in short buskins of leather. Their arms consisted of a sword and long knife, or dudgeon dagger, and they carried with them bucklers of a diminutive size, studded with nails, and ornamented at the edges with a sort of fringe or hair. "The fiend rive this tardy knight !" exclaimed one of the worthies, stamping with impatience, by St. Erkenwald, we shall be disturbed by the city watch, an' he come not soon. "Wist, Leof," replied his comrade, "keep a guard on thy tongue, or if ye must talk, let it be in a somewhat gentler tone, or we may have a greeting from some of the citizens windows, perhaps from old Bouvrie yonder, who is a shrewd hand at the cross bow, and bears us Saxons no good will, as you know." "I fear not his shafts," replied Leof, with an oath, and I will take care that he shall not show his skill much 66 longer, my dagger and his costard shall be acquainted ere many days be past.” You must swear that to-morrow," said the other, "for you may not go home scathless to-night: he whom we have to do with is a proper man-at-arms, and carries a sharp sword and a heavy ; thou wilt find him no child's play, by my halidame !" " Tut, I fear it not," replied Leof, my hand is steady, and" As he spoke a figure was observed advancing cautiously towards them, under the shadow of the houses, and in a few minutes a man, clad in complete armour, but enveloped in a large dark mantle, stood before them. His height and size far exceeded that of ordinary men, and his step was calm and dignified. The sword pommal of silver, and the richly chased dagger, the massy chain of gold around his neck, and the gilt spurs which clanked on his heels, shewed that he was a knight, while the deep scar on his forehead indicated that he had performed some service in the field. "Well, my trusty fellows," said he, "have ye seen aught of mine enemy yet?" "No," replied one of the ruffians, in a surly tone, "and we have waited your coming almost since nightfall." "Tut, chafe it not, Leof," said the knight, but prepare thyself, for he will pass this way anon." "I am ready, Sir Rudulf," said Cedric, the other worthy, touching the hilt of his dagger, "my basilard here is sharp, and my arm is firm." He half unsheathed the weapon as he spoke, and its bright blade gleamed in the moonlight, for the queen of heaven was struggling through the dark and murky clouds, and as her edge now and then appeared above them, her beams were poured over the ancient Dowgate, and fell in an uninterrupted line on the gurgling stream as it rushed along. The spire of the venerable church of St. Mary Bothawe* raised its grey head high above the surrounding houses, and the faint sound of the evening service reached the ears of the guilty trio, who retired under the pent-house, and conversed in low whispers Various plans were proposed for putting their victim to death without alarming the neighbourhood. I would advise," said Leof, "that he be strangled. I have a stout coil of hemp in my pouch, 'twould make no noise." "Ah! ah! ah!" laughed Cedric, but in an under tone,-" Why, thou wouldst be playing at bell-the-cat, ay! I am for treating him to sharp steel like a soldier. What say ye, Sir Rudulf?" "Thou art much of my mind," replied the Knight, but we have no time left for parley-here comes mine enemy, back and conceal yourselves awhile, and when I give the word rush out and strike." The ruffians instantly obeyed, and Sir Rudulf stepping forward, gained the small wooden bridge which crossed the brook at that spot, and waited the approach of his victim. He came on at a leisure pace, followed by a serving man, and prepared to cross the brook; when the Knight, throwing aside his mantle, and extending his arm, said in a fierce tone Geoffery Meryl, thou art in my power, command thy soul to God, for ⚫ this night thou shalt lie in Abraham's bosom." "Rudulf de Bracy," replied the young man, why dost thou seek to murther *This Church before the Great Fire, stood in Turnwheel-lane. A portion of its venerable walls still remains, and the burial ground contains a few monuments, though of a recent date. one who never wronged thee? Away with thee thou fierce man, or I will raise the watch." "Slave," cried the Knight, "dost thou taunt me at this hour and in this place?-Down, down on thy knees, and mutter a prayer for thy soul's safe passage to heaven, for no earthly power can save thee !" A bell at this moment tolled out, and the moon was entirely shrouded in a mass of thick and murky clouds. "Hear'st thou that bell?" cried Sir Rudulf, "it sounds thy passing knell. Die, presumptuous boy!" and unsheathing his sword as he spoke, he made a furious lounge at his enemy. The sword struck the young man on the chest, but he wore a shirt of steel under his jerkin, and the weapon was rendered harmless; nevertheless it was given with such violence, that Geoffery Meryl staggered back several paces, and would have fallen, but for his serving man, who rushing up, supported his master with his left arm, while with his right he drew his sword, and dealt the Knight a blow on the head, which the mailed hood he wore alone prevented from being fatal; but Sir Rudulf immediately recovered himself, and shouting to his villainous associates, they immediately appeared and joined in the strife. With such odds in favour of the assassins, it could not be expected that the combat would be of long duration, for even the giant strength of Sir Rudulf was more than a match for ordinary men, even at that rude period, when effeminate habits had not made such inroads, upon the physical strength of the English people. Ere a dozen blows had been exchanged, Geoffery's follower fell at his feet with a gasp, and rolling over the side of the bridge, fell with a heavy splash into the brook; at the same moment his master's sword was dashed from his grasp by the powerful arm of Sir Rudulf de Bracy: yet ere the giant Knight could strike him down, he grappled with his enemy, and seized him by the throat, but it was a hopeless struggle; he reeled and fell pierced by the daggers of the ruffians, and Sir Rudulf, half choked, shook himself, wiped the blood from his armour, and resuming his mantle, bade the ruffians cast the body into the stream. His commands were obeyed, and the corpse of the ill-fated youth was thrown into the brook; the bubbles which rose upon its surface sparkled for a moment in the moonbeams, then burst, and the stream resumed its wonted smoothness, though it swept over the corpse of one of the fairest youths in England. There are few persons who have not heard or read of the splendid entry of Richard the First into London, after he had been liberated by his implacable foe, Leopold of Austria. This has been so often described, that any attempt of ours to detail the gorgeous spectacles with which the loyal citizens had prepared to welcome him, would, we fear, be considered presumption on our part; nevertheless, we must dwell for a moment on the scene. It was a clear and beautiful day on which the Lion-hearted King made his entry into London, and as he rode through the Chepe, thousands of loyal voices greeted his return. The trappings of the horse he rode glittered with the most splendid ornaments, and the dress of the King himself was magnificent in the extreme. He bowed gracefully to the people, whose shouts filled the air; and his broad and open features were lit up with rapture as he looked on the smiling countenances of those who surrounded him. Troops of armed citizens followed in his train; bills, pikes, lances, and rich armour flashed in the morning sun; the windows were hung with rich tapestry and cloth of gold, and the beauties of London graced each terrace and balcony; indeed, so great was the display made by the citizens of their wealth, that some of the German Barons who had accompanied the King to England, were heard to say, that had the ArchDuke known of it, he would not have parted with his prisoner for so moderate a ransom. The procession moved on towards the Guildhall, where a splendid repast was prepared. The King sat aloft on the dais, surrounded by his nobles. On his right sat Henry Fitz-Alwaine, the mayor, (the first who bore that title in London) and over against him, De Antiloche and Durant, the sheriffs, in their rich dresses and golden chains. In the body of the hall were tables for the citizens, who were all clad in their best, and many of them in armour. In the galleries were minstrels stationed,' whose fingers and lungs were exerted to the utmost for the gratification of their sovereign. The most costly wines were dealt out by the generous Londoners, who were mad with joy for the return of their brave monarch. It was during the height of these revelries, that a female form, closely veiled, followed by a young man of a gallant figure, was observed to enter the hall by The Guildhall of London, at that time, we My Leige," replied the wily villain, might it not be some treasonable design against your Grace's life?" "Tut! tut! good Sir Rudulf," exclaimed the King, impatiently,-" shall we who never shrunk from the scymetars and lances of the Paynim, tremble at the approach of a timid woman? Come hither, damsel, we will do thee justice, though in the midst of wassail.” 56 May heaven reward your Grace," said the maiden, withdrawing her veil, and discovering a countenance of dazzling beauty, though disfigured by weeping. Then kneeling down, she continued in scarcely audible accents, "My Leige, I claim justice on a villain knight who stands in your highness's presence-he has treacherously slain my only brother." Sir Rudolf's frame quivered with impatience; but he dared not speak, and contented himself by scowling fiercely on the young Knight who had accompanied the maiden into the hall. "Rise, gentle maiden," said the King, extending his hand to the suppliant," and name the villain who has robbed you of your kinsman.' "He stands on your Grace's right hand," replied the mourner; "that dark swarthy one whom men call Sir Rudulf de Bracy,-on him I charge this deed!" Sir Rudulf sprung forward with a violence which seemed as though he would have annihilated his accuser, when he was checked by the King, who in a stern voice demanded what he had to say to the charge. 66 My Leige," replied De Bracy, endeavouring to stifle his emotion, “'tis a vile plot to rob me of my life, or my still dearer good name. I do deny the charge by my knighthood, 'tis false! Who supports this accusation?" All pressed forward to hear the answer to this demand, when the young Knight before mentioned drew from his bosom a gold chain. "Your Grace shall hear the particulars of this bloody story," said he, addressing the King. Last night, some two hours believe, stood on the scite of the steel-yard, after moon-rise, this lady's brother and my intimate, Master Geoffrey Meryl, was in Thames-street. |