Mrs. John Hardcastle and her son most kindly conducted me round the place once more; for I had visited Mulwith about ten years previously, with my sister, then approaching it from the east. And on that Sunday evening (April 22nd, 1901), an evening calm and bright, to the sound of sweet church bells, again I satisfied historic feeling by the recollection of the Past; the sense whereof bore down upon me with a force too strong for words, “too deep,” too high, “for tears.” “_Many waters cannot quench Love; neither can the floods drown it._” SUPPLEMENTUM V. AN ACCOUNT OF A VISIT TO GREAT PLOWLAND (ANCIENTLY PLEWLAND), IN THE PARISH OF WELWICK, HOLDERNESS, IN THE EAST RIDING OF THE COUNTY OF YORK. On Monday, the 6th day of May, 1901, the writer had the happiness of accomplishing a purpose he had long had in mind, namely, that of paying a visit to Great Plowland (anciently Plewland), in the Parish of Welwick, Holderness, the birthplace of John and Christopher Wright, and also of their sister, Martha Wright, who was married to Thomas Percy, of Beverley. These three East Riding Yorkshiremen have indeed writ large their names in the Book of Fate. For, as the preceding pages have shown, they were among that woeful band of thirteen who were involved, to their just undoing, in the rash and desperate enterprise, known as the Gunpowder Treason Plot, of the year 1605, the second year of the reign of James I., King of England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland, and progenitor and predecessor of our own Most Gracious King Edward VII. Long may he reign, a crowned and sceptred Imperial Monarch: and in Justice may his house be established for ever![A] [Footnote A: How full of happy augury for the future of our Empire was the fine speech of His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, delivered in the Guildhall, London, the 5th December, 1901, shortly following on the Prince’s and His Princess’s return to Old England’s shores, after their historic sojourning, during the year 1901, in His Majesty’s loyal Dominions beyond the seas.] The writer arrived at the town of Patrington (the post-town of Plowland) somewhat late in the afternoon. He had not been before; but he well knew that Patrington is famous, far and near, for its stately and exquisitely-beautiful church, so aptly styled “the Queen of Holderness,” the church of Hedon being “the King.”