energy, resembling his own, moved his admiration, and in whom, by the
accent in which Robin called his men, he recognized a north-
countryman; "yield, and I will see that thou goest safe in life and
limb. Look round, ye are beaten."

"Fool!" answered Hilyard, setting his teeth, "the People are never
beaten!" And as the words left his lips, the shot from the recharged
bombard shattered him piecemeal.

"On for London and the crown!" cried Alwyn,--"the citizens are the
People!"

At this time, through the general crowd of the Yorkists, Ratcliffe and
Lovell, at the head of their appointed knights, galloped forward to
accomplish their crowning mission.

Behind the column which still commemorates "the great battle" of that
day, stretches now a trilateral patch of pasture-land, which faces a
small house. At that time this space was rough forest-ground, and
where now, in the hedge, rise two small trees, types of the diminutive
offspring of our niggard and ignoble civilization, rose then two huge
oaks, coeval with the warriors of the Norman Conquest. They grew close
together; yet, though their roots interlaced, though their branches
mingled, one had not taken nourishment from the other. They stood,
equal in height and grandeur, the twin giants of the wood. Before
these trees, whose ample trunks protected them from the falchions in
the rear, Warwick and Montagu took their last post. In front rose,
literally, mounds of the slain, whether of foe or friend; for round
the two brothers to the last had gathered the brunt of war, and they
towered now, almost solitary in valour's sublime despair, amidst the