Repeated charges were made upon the savage animal
by James, but it was next to impossible to get a blow
at him for some time; and when at length the monarch
made the attempt, he struck too low, and hit him on
the snout, upon which the infuriated boar, finding
himself wounded, sprang towards the horse, and ripped
him open with his tusks.
The noble charger instantly rolled over on his side,
exposing the royal huntsman to the fury of his merciless
assailant, whose tusks must have ploughed his flesh,
if at this moment a young man had not ridden forward,
and at the greatest personal risk approached the boar,
and, striking straight downwards, cleft the heart
of the fierce brute with his spear.
Meanwhile, the King, having been disengaged by the
prickers from his wounded steed, which was instantly
put out of its agony by the sword of the chief huntsman,
looked for his deliverer, and, discovering him to be
Richard Assheton, was loud in his expressions of gratitude.
“Faith! ye maun claim a boon at our hands,”
said James. “It maun never be said the
King is ungrateful. What can we do for you, lad?”
“For myself nothing, sire,” replied Richard.
“But for another meikle—is that what
ye wad hae us infer?” cried the King, with a
smile. “Aweel, the lassie shall hae strict
justice done her; but for your ain sake we maun inquire
into the matter. Meantime, wear this,”
he added, taking a magnificent sapphire ring from his
finger, “and, if you should ever need our aid,
send it to us as a token.”
Richard took the gift, and knelt to kiss the hand
so graciously extended to him.
By this time another horse had been provided for the
monarch, and the enormous boar, with his feet upwards
and tied together, was suspended upon a pole, and
borne on the shoulders of four stout varlets as the
grand trophy of the chase.
When the royal company issued from the wood a strike
of nine was blown by the chief huntsman, and such
of the cavalcade as still remained on the field being
collected together, the party crossed the chase, and
took the direction of Hoghton Tower.
On the King’s return to Hoghton Tower, orders
were given by Sir Richard for the immediate service
of the banquet; it being the hospitable baronet’s
desire that festivities should succeed each other so
rapidly as to allow of no tedium.
The coup-d’oeil of the banquet hall on
the monarch’s entrance was magnificent.
Panelled with black lustrous oak, and lighted by mullion
windows, filled with stained glass and emblazoned with
the armorial bearings of the family, the vast and
lofty hall was hung with banners, and decorated with
panoplies and trophies of the chase. Three long
tables ran down it, each containing a hundred covers.
At the lower end were stationed the heralds, the pursuivants,
and a band of yeomen of the guard, with the royal
