The Sunday herald. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1866-1887, 1881-01-02
DEBRUTON'S SWORD Hit

MoHElMhh toLiiNN.
DE BRUTON'S SWORD Hit
Though the plague of tourists has not yet
fallen upon ii, there exists within the mar
row seas no more picturesque little town
than Monkmoor. II lies among hills on the
border of Shropshire and Herefordshre, some
thirty miles from Shrewsbury. The latter
Monkmoor yields to as the county town,
but 1t solaces itself with the thought of the
days when its gray old castle was princely
residence, and when 1t lorded 1t far and wide
over the Marches of Wales. Of its priory
but name is left, of its castle, ruins such
as Kenilworth can do no more than match,
of its church, we'll, the townsmen say 1t is
the second parish church in England, and
look with scorn on the tall spire of st.
Mary's, at Shrewsbury. Whether 1t Is the
second parish church in England, know
not, only one finer have | seen, so that, as
far as | know, that may be so: but st.
Marys 1t certainly does excel save in
painted glass. Honor where honor ID due.
But, grand as are the wooded hills rising
around 1t, interesting as are its historical
monuments, Monkmoor lies out of the road
of the crowd of travellers, and only few.
a very few, artists come hither in sum-
mer, attracted chiefly by some old timber
houses equal to any that Chester can show.
Notwithstanding, one August morning two
years ago, Eustace Walters, young barrister
of moderate family and more moderate for
tune, found himself standing under the
Butchers Row outside the Angel Hotel at
Monkmoor. lie had been merely passing
along the Shrewsbury and Hereford railway,
intending to spend some weeks of the summer
vacation on the Wye, when the sight of the
old castle framed in Mary Knoll Woods had
attracted him, and, rejoicing in unencum
bered youth, he had determined to stay and
see the place. This was the third day of his
stay, and 1t was wet one; he had seen the
castle, he had seen the church, he had ad
mired the black andwhite houses, and the
shield bearing panels at the Bull, he had
heared all--and that was very little-that
| was to be heard about the Priory. Finally,
as he remarked to the Boots, the billiard
| table was only moderate, and games with the
| marker arc apt to become monotonous. So
| the Boots regarded him with doubtful air;
the Angel would gladly have had tourists as
thick as locusts, and, failing that, wished to
do the best by such stray ones as lighted
down; wherefore, as remarked, the Boots
| was looking doubtful what amusement he
should suggnat to carry the solitary guest
over another day. tie looked down the
street. but the Broad Gate gave him no in
spiration; nor, when he looked up, did the
| Bntter Cross. But his memory proved true
| to him, the lions of Monkmoor were not ex-
haustsd.
81 do declare, sir,' said he, with hearty
slap on his thigh, you've never seen the
museum. It's just the day for it. with the
rain stopping everything else, or You might
have gone to Titterstone Hill, or to Wigmore
| Castle, or tried for trout in the feme; ay,
| tie day after tomorrow there is cricket
match But there's some things very curl
Gus at the museum now, I've heard say.
First turning OH the left, up Castle street,
and then inquire at the corner shop, SIR"
No need here to enter into the discussion
as to the merits of numerous small, or few
large museums; MonkmoOr, with its old asso-
Citations, could well supply collection of its
own, in which, as the Boots at the Angel
said were many curious things, and our hero,
though no deep antiquarian, got through
an hour very pleasantly. The curator. who,
outside the daor, acted as a stationer, knew
something of the things he had in charge
yet not so much as to bore his audience with
abstruse lore. There was good show of fos
sill remains, of shells and eggs and ferns
all auickly passed over-but the relics found
in and about the castle formed the greater
the unique part Of the collection. Quaint ole
parchment .illuminea with the names o
Oman and Mortimer and Sidney, mysteriou
instruments of torture, rusty arms, am
armor-all these were there in plenty, and
as signs of the knights of whom but dust ant
rust remain, they awake in all some interes
in the past. One sword hilt, to which but
compile of inches of blade remained, particu
larry attracted Walters; it was honored by
small glassrtoppsd eass all to itself, whicl
was, moreover, locked. He inquired it
history.
swell, sir" explained the old gentleman
as lie rpverently unlocked the case and dre'
out the fragment, "it was found some twent
years ago near N0rtimer's Cross, a battle
field about, if the spot be rightly guessed
ten miles from here. The hilt 10 said to
Of Italian make, and to have belonged I
Jasper Tudor, Earl of Pembroke, who wa
there deferted by the Yorkists in the War
Of the Roses. bat antiquarians say that
was made long before even his time"
at must have belonged TO some one {
mark, for It is, indeed, unique in shape"
Yes, the figure cruciied upside down
form the cross handle Is certainly St. Petei
who was possibly the owners patron
SAINT
ais 1t heavyf May handle tn silve
was more valuable then than now"
Gay. so I've heard. Do yon see, then
we're once the crossed keys surrounding I'll
foot Of the cross, but now only fragment
are left to Indicate them. Agood many hay
guessed it belonged originally to crusade
or knight of some Italian military order.
SPY Jove, | did not SEES that 1t was hollow
A rare idea, worthy of DR.. Lynn himsel
What a capital hiding place for your secrets
| Il, tba bilt Of vnnr cwnr1 ~