morning all was stir and bustle in the Monastery and
in the little town. The troops were preparing to depart at daybreak
towards Kenilworth, where father and son were to meet and arrange
their future tactics. In the early dawn Nicholas, the Earl's barber,
ascended one of the towers of the Abbey, and, gazing northwards, over
Green Hill he descried soldiers bearing standards which were evidently
those of the younger Simon. For a few moments joy prevailed at the
thought of so happy a meeting; but this feeling soon gave place to
anxiety and dread. Closer examination showed that though the standards
were those of the Earl's son the soldiers who carried them were not
Simon's but Prince Edward's followers. In a moment all was clear: the
younger Simon had been defeated, perhaps slain, and de Montfort must
fight single-handed or yield his cause ingloriously. Retreat over the
bridge by which the army had entered the town was useless, for soon
it became known that Roger Mortimer was following the route the barons
had taken the day before, and would soon be on their rear. With the
river on both sides of them, and both ways blocked by enemies, two
alternatives alone presented themselves, to fight or to yield. To add
to the hopelessness of their position the Earl of Gloucester, with his
army, was now joining Prince Edward by the upper Worcester road. De
Montfort knew that against such odds the fight would be a hopeless
one, and urged his supporters to flee while there was yet time, and
not to lose their lives in an unavailing struggle; but none would
desert their leader in the hour of peril. "Then," exclaimed the Earl,
"may the Lord have mercy on our souls for our bodies are in the power
of our enemies."

* * * * *

It is recorded that on this fatal Tuesday all the elements seemed to
unite in adding horror to the scene of carnage. Shortly before this a
great comet had made men fear and wonder; and now, on this morning the
sky was overcast with such dense clouds that the land was in darkness;
so black were the heavens that nothing like it had been known within
the memory of man. A violent tempest, with a deluge of rain and
terrific thunder and lightning, swept over the country. The terrified
monks could not see their books as they chanted the Psalms in the
darkened choir, and as they sat in the refectory they could not tell
what food lay upon their trenchers.

Meanwhile the battle raged on the hill ab