and one
daughter; of whom William, the second son, married an honest man's
daughter, whose name was Alice Gryse, and whose children were living
in 1490, when this chronicle was written.

Return we now to the puissant lord, Sir Mighell, Earl of Suffolk. He
was not long suffered to enjoy his home; indeed, so ardent a soul as
his would have eaten its way through his castle walls, as a chrysalis
through its silken tomb, if he had been long inactive. If war had not
been his duty, he must have made it his crime; if foreign foes had not
called upon his valour, too surely would domestic friends have
suffered from his disloyalty. Born for the fight, he would have
fulfilled his destiny by force if he might not by right. At the battle
of Agincourt (1415), he perished along with many other of England's
nobles.

Sir Mighell having died without a son, his titles and estates went to
his brother, Sir William. Dame Elizabeth, widow of Sir Mighell, and
her daughter Katharine, shortly afterwards, as was usual in these
times, went to reside in the Abbey of Brasenode; and there they
ultimately died.

Meanwhile, and for years afterwards, no one knew anything of Jane,
who, though exiled from her rank and family, perhaps enjoyed more real
happiness than those who had been guilty of her maltreatment. At
length, her husband died, which was a source of grief. Honest William
had thought her queer in manners; but he loved her for all that, and
was proud of her, as the daughter of a poor gentleman. He blessed her
on his death-bed; and she remained a widow for his sake. Many yeomen
wished to marry her, but she refused them all. This went on for many
years--long after Sir William a Poole had become fourth Earl of
Suffolk, and had had children born to him; long after Alice Gryse had
become Jane's daughter-in-law, and made her more than once a
grandmother too; and then the whole of this strange story became
known. Jane had kept her vow of secrecy with perfect fidelity; never
had she breathed a syllable to her husband or children as to the
family to which she belonged. It was only, late in life, through
confession she made to a priest, that who and what she had been was
revealed. Shocked with the depravity of her unnatural parents, this
pious and learned doctor, says the chronicle, 'commanded her to
publish this account to her children and their issues, that they might
know of what race they came, if so be, by the great mercy of
Providence, they mi