whether he would or no.

It was the more unfortunate, as Lord Salisbury lamented to his wife,
because the Copelands were devoted to the Somerset faction; and the
King had been labouring to reconcile them to the Dacres, and to bring
about a contract of marriage between these two unfortunate children,
but he feared that whatever he could do, there would only be
additional feud and bitterness, though it was clear that the mishap
was accidental. The Lord of Whitburn himself was in Ireland with the
Duke of York, while his lady was in attendance on the young Queen,
and it was judged right and seemly to despatch to her a courier with
the tidings of her daughter's disaster, although in point of fact,
where a house could number sons, damsels were not thought of great
value, except as the means of being allied with other houses. A
message was also sent to Sir William Copeland that his son had been
the death of the daughter of Whitburn; for poor little Grisell lay
moaning in a state of much fever and great suffering, so that the
Lady Salisbury could not look at her, nor hear her sighs and sobs
without tears, and the barber-surgeon, unaccustomed to the effects of
gunpowder, had little or no hope of her life.

Leonard Copeland's mood was sullen, not to say surly. He submitted
to the chastisement without a word or cry, for blows were the lot of
boys of all ranks, and were dealt out without much respect to
justice; and he also had to endure a sort of captivity, in a dismal
little circular room in a turret of the manorial house, with merely a
narrow loophole to look out from, and this was only accessible by
climbing up a steep broken slope of brick-work in the thickness of
the wall.