446 
Would that the chronicler* of the Countess’s youthful court days 
had survived, or that his mantle had descended to a kindred spirit, to 
record the scene, when, at Sir Walter’s powerful intercession, he was 
permitted to bring his friend, the old Countess Cattelyn to the foot of 
the throne, there humbly to supplicate her dread Sovereign’s grace and 
favour for the redress of wrongs, and the restitution of her jointure, 
mannors, and castle. Try—how vain soever the attempt—try to pic- 
ture the excitement, the wonder, and the curiosity of the court of Eliza- 
beth, at the appearance of this almost, as would seem, antediluvian lady. 
A belle of the White Rose era, a dynasty dethroned by the Tudors, time 
long since out of mind. Yet the knowledge of the gay splendour of 
Edward LY.’s revels had come down to them, as those of Charles IT. haye 
come down to us; and to really look on one who had shone in its dances, 
a partner with Royalty! And with these thoughts, a sigh may have 
arisen from many a fair damsel, as she contrasted in her mind the tradi- 
tional, unchecked mirth and freedom of Edward’s palace with the stately 
and severe ceremonial of the Virgin Queen’s. Nor isit unlikely that in 
the circle were some bold turbulent spirits whose minds reverted to the 
up and stirring times of the wars of the White and Red Roses, when 
the conquering swords (always our own), carved out for their owners 
the rich domains of the vanquished, Neither can we doubt, as Sir 
Walter recounted the wrongs of the old Countess to the Queen, that the 
blood of many a gallant youth boiled up indignantly, while he fervently 
wished—and would have intreated, had he dared—that his Sovereign 
Lady, the great Gloriana of chivalry, would select him as her Arthegall,+ 
to restore Inchiquin to its venerable owner, and inflict stern justice on 
the felon oppressor. What, too, may not have been the thoughts of the 
old Countess herself, actually comparing the rich gaiety of the past with 
the stiff splendour of the present, —Elizabeth Wydeville with Elizabeth 
Tudor,—a queen Consort in company with her handsome, voluptuous 
husband, their bevy of lovely daughters, fast rising into womanhood, 
equally promising sons, on bothsides bands of relatives, and so cireum- 
stanced, with no other feelings than the enjoyment of the surrounding 
gaiety with a Queen Regnant, the last in direct line of the Tudors, choos- 
ing to stand alone in the world, not even to acknowledge a successor; and 
in a stormy political period, charged with the safety of an empire, whose 
cares the vigilance of no gentleman usher could exclude even from the 
presence chamber: while to Elizabeth herself the suppliant must have 
had a yet more thrilling interest, only short, we may believe, to the 
appearance of a spirit from the realms of the departed. Before her was 
a friend and companion of Elizabeth of York, by her brother’s death the 
rightful heiress of the Plantagenet crown, and through whose blood 
Elizabeth Tudor now lawfully wore it. Think also of the suit, an appeal 
to the justice of the Sovereign for the restoration of a jomture which 
* Commines. 
+ 5th Booke of Spenser’s ‘‘ Faery Queene,” the legend of Arthegall, or Justice. 
