On his melancholy departure from these ancestral halls, which he was never more to behold, the venerable Marquess--accompanied by certain members of his family and a few tried friends, among whom was the devoted Bayly--was conducted to London, and placed under the custody of the Black Rod. Expecting to be treated as a declared enemy of Parliament, notwithstanding the terms of capitulation, his lordship was agreeably surprised to find the severity, with which such cases were usually visited, was relaxed in his favour. “Lord bless us,” said he to Dr. Bayly, who never left him, “what a fearful thing was this Black Rod when I heard of it first! It did so run in my mind, that it made an infliction out of mine own imagination. But when I spoke with the man himself, I found him a very civil gentleman; and I saw no black rod! So, methinks, if we would not let these troubles and apprehensions of ours be made worse by our own fears, no rods would be black.” And although-- “The pride of life has vanished, And here I stand alone, Degraded, stript, and banished From all that was mine own; Yet in dreams, when friends surround me With the loyal and the true, The youthful links that bound me, Seem all riveted anew. When I hear their loyal voices, I half forget my wrongs, And again my heart rejoices In our good old loyal songs. Pent up in these dark regions, The only gems I boast, Are my _honour and allegiance_-- All else of earth is lost.”[279] But we shall leave the worthy Marquess for a time, to observe what is passing in that dearly beloved, but now desolate mansion, the gates of which were now closed upon him for ever. [Illustration] The woodcut here introduced represents one of the richly ornamented, but now dilapidated, windows of the front range of the Castle.