166 THE THAMES. 



A skirmish immediately commenced, in which the attendant on the 

 abbot's palfrey, William Fynche, was shot dead with an arrow, and 

 the rustics maintained the contest with considerable success, until 

 the rest of the abbot's attendants, under the direction of William 

 "V^allensis, and John Colon, rode up to his rescue, and effected it 

 temporarily, but not without considerable bloodshed ; the country, 

 however, " bestiales illi Rutlandise homines," was up in arms, and 

 the abbot was dragged " ignominiose satis," before the king, who 

 was then at Richmond. 



The decision against the natives was here confirmed for the last time, 

 and John Waryng, with nine others, including Christian and his wife, 

 were indicted for the murder of William Fynche, before Geoffrey le 

 Scrope, but were liberated with the forfeiture of all their goods to the 

 abbot. The matter was here brought to its termination ; the greater 

 part submitted, and the rest were taken by Sir John Don, forester of 

 Delamere, at Hockenhull; all of them expiated their insurrection in 

 the stocks and Weverham prison; and Henry Pym, the prime mover 

 of the sedition, incurred the forfeiture of all his lands in Dernhall, 

 and was sentenced to offer up a wax-taper for the remainder of his 

 life in the church of Vale Royal, on the festival of the assumption. 



H. T. R. 



THE THAMES. 



" I love, O Thames ! to wander on thy banks 



When the sun's parting rays have softly shed 



Their rainbow colours on thy bosom broad; 



And when the weary angler homeward hies, 



And all is still ; 



Save the shrill whistle of the boatswain's pipe 



From some far distant bark, which hither sails 



Laden with Indian perfumes, or rich stores 



From Persia's spicy marts. I love to trace 



The distant hamlet, and the village spire, 



The ruin'd abbey 'midst the tufted trees, 



With all those scenes which to the mind recal 



Such 'moving tales' -of England's happiness. 



Thus would 1 wander till departed day, 



Then homeward turn ; and when the gentle breeze 



Around me plays, and ruffles every wave, 



I think of those who on the billows ride, 



Brave the rough winds, and struggle with the storm." 



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