Seven miles down the valley of the Colne lies
the village of Earl's Colne, with the priory, where ten of the earls of
Oxford lie buried with their wives.
The parish church of Castle Hedingham stood at the end of the little
village street, and the rectory of Mr. Vickars was close by. The party
gathered at morning prayers consisted of Mr. Vickars and his wife,
their two sons, Geoffrey and Lionel, and the maid-servants, Ruth and
Alice. The boys, now fourteen and fifteen years old respectively, were
strong-grown and sturdy lads, and their father had long since owned
with a sigh that neither of them was likely to follow his profession
and fill the pulpit at Hedingham Church when he was gone. Nor was this
to be wondered at, for lying as it did at the entrance to the great
castle of the Veres, the street of the little village was constantly
full of armed men, and resounded with the tramp of the horses of
richly-dressed knights and gay ladies.
Here came great politicians, who sought the friendship and support of
the powerful earls of Oxford, nobles and knights, their kinsmen and
allies, gentlemen from the wide-spreading manors of the family, stout
fighting-men who wished to enlist under their banner.
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