It has been farther said of him, that, besides taking part in the defence of <g>Raglan</g>, he fought, on some occasion of his subsequent and chequered career, as a common soldier. This is by no means unlikely; for he was of an active and adventurous spirit; never reluctant to take up arms in a good cause; and like some other ecclesiastics of his day, as well known in the “tented field” as in the pulpit. In his “Book of Apophthegms,”[286] he mentions the fact of his having saved Lord Worcester from the enemy, by giving him timely notice of their approach, when he found him wandering on the Welsh mountains; and, recording this incident as the occasion and origin of his acquaintance with the Marquess, he says: “From that time forward, until I laid him in his grave in Windsor Castle, I never parted from him.” Such enthusiastic attachment--disinterested as, under all the peculiar circumstances of the case, it must have been--does infinite credit to the memory of Bayly; for it generally happens that fallen greatness, like court favourites, has no real friends.--We now return to the closing scene of the master whom he had served with so much constancy, and whom it was literally his misfortune to survive; for after his obsequies at Windsor, Bayly was left a friendless wanderer, denounced at home, received with suspicion abroad, and indebted to charity for bread and--a grave. Reduced, as we have seen, to the humiliating condition of a prisoner, the Marquess of Worcester did not long require the vigilance of the Black Rod. From the day that Raglan was delivered up to General Fairfax, his health, which during the siege had suffered from great mental anxiety, rapidly declined under the absence of all that reconciles worldly men to the evils of life. But, armed with that Christian philosophy which is the only panacea for the outrages of fortune, he preserved the inward calm of a resigned and tranquil spirit; and, looking forward to another and a happier existence, he regarded passing events, like his own bodily infirmities, as visitations from an unseen Power, who, through a rugged and stormy path, was conducting his servant into a new region of sunshine and peace. At his death, which took place in December, all that descended to his family, as unconvertible to Parliamentary uses, were the example he had set before them of unshaken loyalty, well-grounded faith, and a patient endurance of evils which the practice of such hereditary virtues might incur. By his wife, whom he long survived, he had issue nine sons and four daughters: namely, Lord Herbert, Earl of Glamorgan, who succeeded to the honours; Lord John, who married a daughter of Thomas, Lord Arundel of Wardour; and Lord Charles, who, during the siege of Raglan, acted as second in command under his father, and after signalizing himself in the royal service, devoted himself to the church, and died, as already observed, in exile at Cambray. These are the only members of the family that require to be