The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1888-08-01
EDWY OF TYNEDALE.
A sroRY OF OLD ENGLAND.


1t was time and country of arms.
Valor wa; the saint by whom all sworc,
and no death was feared save death on
the straw. And with valor ruled song.
When the clash of swords was for
moment stilled, minnesingcrs and min
strels sang of the sweetness of love: are
not the tendercst blossoms of the year
those that are fostered by the snow
drftl
The Tower of Tynedale had had its
baptism of blood and consecrations of
song more frequently, it may well be,
than any other castle within The same
horizon bounds, for it stood on disputed
ground. 1t was defiance In stone flung
down by an early Tynedale, and many a
time had the Branksome men da- he'd
themselves against it in vain assault.
Once, indeed, the portals had traitorously
yielded, aud the banner of The hated
house of the assailants had taunted the
scattered Tynedales from the battlements
of their own tower. That dishonor had
been wiped out in the desi crate courage
OF the recapture, but its memory reused
to new life the old family feud, which
had its birth in the buried past.
1t was the thought of that unforgotten
shame that made more lofty the bearing
of the lord of Tynedale as he entered
the dcmesne to which long absence
had made him well nigh stranger. The
gay laughter of his retainers, who found
it JOY enough to feel the shadow of
Tynedale oaks once more above them,
seemed to his ear but to muffie the
angry mutter of defeated men. His
s.eed, responding to his unconscious
touch, bounded forward, and carried
him in advance of his ira to the open
ing in the forest that commanded a d s.
tant view of the lQwer.
And there the sunbeams that flashed
from spear head and sparkled from the
jeweled dresses of lady fair and gallant
knight and waiting esquire sank into
shadows amid the folds of the Brauk-
some banner, which Branksome hands
had flung once more from the battle
ments of Tynedale Tower. Dark and
sullen hung the silken folds heavy with
shame. And dark grew the brow of the
lord of Tynedale, dark even as the
shadows of the forest, when that mes
sage met his eye.
An indifferent forester, to whom it
mattered little whether the flag of the
tower were gules or argent, told the brief
tale of the, days foray. An attack, a
surprise, weak defence, few hours of
desperate hand to-hand fighting withia
the old wal s, and then the sunset with
its revelation; that was ALL
The party camped hastily.
1--WE are helpless. said the old lord,
bitterly, . within those walls handful
may laugh at a host; without, handful
like this would be but dash of summer
raindrops on the stones. False stones.
they prote foe and friend alike"
Then spoke Edwy, the heir of Tyndale.
''My lord and father, an it please you,
will enter the tower. My harp will be
my passport for a minstrel hath free
warrant TO hall and bower. Once
within, it will go hard but find means
to open the gates to our men ere the
morning.
The old lords eye flashed He felt the
fever ofyouth throb in his veins for mo-
ment; thenit passed, but he beheld his
own spirit kindling keen and high in the
dauntless youth who faced him.
''Go, my child. The honor of Tyne
dale is in your hands"
~ ~ oHCi ny Sdihc " piSS tLdt gay
young minstrel boldly demanded ad-
mittance for his harp and himself at the
gate where Edwy, of Tyneda'e, 'ght
not pass for his life. A rude welcome
greeted him from the hall.
Enter, thou minstrel lad. Such a
day as this hath merited night of song
What ballads hast thou that are new -
Ballads new and old in plenty to
pleasure the lords of Tynedale Tower, y
answered Edwy calmly, resting his harp
near the board about which lounged the
dark men of Branksome, pledging their
victory in tankards Of Tynedale ale. At
his feet, trampled and stained. lay the
silken banner of his house, rudely torn
from the battlement. But no one saw
the fire that smouldered under Edwy's
lowered lids
"sing, harper, and Oswald shall dance
the morrow"
Edwy had already noted the bound