held out for three weeks, when an incident occurred which for a while interrupted the siege. The nobles who followed the King were unwilling that he should crush so powerful a feudal Lord as Belesme, lest the regal power over the vassal nobility might become excessive. On a day, therefore, when the siege had made some progress, they held a meeting, in a field where the royal army was encamped, and advancing to the King, proposed that he should offer terms of accommodation to the Earl. But their purpose had transpired, and the country gentlemen of Shropshire, manifesting a spirit of loyalty, which happily has been transmitted to their descendants, assembled on one of the hills which surrounded the King’s camp, to the number of three thousand, and lifting up their voice, as the old chronicler relates, exclaimed, “Sir King, regard not what these traitors say: remember the repeated treason of this your enemy—how often he has conspired against your life—and lay not aside your purpose: storm the town. We will support you, and never leave you till your foe is brought alive or dead to your feet.” Encouraged by their loyalty, the King at once adopted vigorous measures, which succeeded. He summoned Corbat and the other governors before him, and swore, in the presence of his court, that if within three days they did not surrender the castle, he would hang the whole of the garrison. These threats had the desired effect. The garrison agreed to surrender: they shut up the stipendiaries in one part of the castle, and opened their gates to the King, who entered amid the acclamations of the townspeople. Soon after the capture of the castle, the King set out for Shrewsbury, in pursuit of Robert de Belesme; and having surmounted the dangerous pass, as it was then considered, of Wenlock Edge, and cut his way through the entangling forest which lay at its base, he laid siege to Shrewsbury. But Belesme, alarmed at the bold and energetic movements of the King, surrendered himself to his mercy.[12] His life was spared; but he was banished to Normandy, and all his English estates became forfeit to the crown. His history was afterwards marked by many disasters, and at length he died in a prison at Warham Castle, where he had languished some years in miserable captivity. Such was the wretched issue of treachery and rebellion—such the bitter fruits of “vaulting ambition”—such the consequence of setting aside that divine principle, which is alike the safeguard of personal peace, as well as of public tranquillity, “Fear God, honor the King.”