Francis Arden, who was in the Tower of London, escaped from that prison along with Gerard during the night of 8th October, 1597. Francis Arden was probably a relative of Edward Arden, who was executed as a traitor on the 23rd December, 1583, in connection with the mysterious Somerville-Arden-Hall conspiracy against the life of Queen Elizabeth. The Shakespeares were justly proud of their connection with the Ardens, a fact which is evidenced by the well-known application of John Shakespeare (the poet’s father) to the College of Heralds for the grant of a coat-of-arms that impaled and quartered the arms of the Ardens, of Wilmcote, his wife’s family. I cannot doubt that the Ardens, of Wilmcote, Warwickshire, were of the same clan as the Ardens, of Park Hall, Warwickshire, to which family Edward Arden belonged, who was executed in 1583. To disallow the relationship of the Ardens, of Wilmcote, with the Ardens, of Park Hall (both in Warwickshire), simply because the former were less liberally endowed with worldly goods in the reign of Elizabeth than the latter, proves to demonstration that such disallowers, merely on such ground, have something yet to learn respecting the England of “Good Queen Bess”——and of every other England too.] Yea, before my mind’s eye I seemed to behold, ever and anon, riding towards and passing me on horseback, to and fro, from east to west, and from west to east, the shadowy yet tall stately forms of Elizabethan gentlemen, in feathered hat, girded sword, and Ripon spurs; aye, and of Elizabethan gentlewomen likewise, in hooded cloak, white ruff, and pleated gown. Sometimes the groups, methought, were accompanied by one showing a graver mien and more reverend aspect than the gentlefolk among whom he rode, although apparelled and equipped externally as they. The breviary, crucifix, and large jet rosary-beads which, in my phantasy, lay concealed within the last-named’s breast, would betoken that he was a priest of the ancient faith of the English people, although at that period one of such a vocation was, by law, counted a traitor to his sovereign. But my day-dreams vanished: from a vivid realization of a near approach to Givendale, which was announced by a new guide-post visible to the eye of flesh. A few paces further of walking, under the boughs of noble interlacing trees, brought me by the gate leading to the dwelling-house to-day known as Givendale——that historic name. The old hall occupied a site most probably a little to the north of the present Givendale, and was surrounded by a moat. Leland, writing in the reign of Henry VIII., describes it as “a fair manor place of stone.” Lovely views does Givendale command of the valley of the Ure,[A] looking westward towards the sister valleys of the Nidd and Wharfe and Aire.