he fatal field
of Shrewsbury. They saw Hotspur's father, the first Henry Percy to
receive the title of Earl, (a title which had been given him at the
coronation of Richard II.) set out with a brave force after Hotspur's
departure; and they saw his return, almost alone, dejected and broken in
spirit, having learnt that the help so tardily given had come too late,
and the life of his gallant son was ended.

They saw the siege train of Henry Bolingbroke laid against the castle,
directed by Henry in person, provoked into these active measures by the
open rebellion of father and son, though Northumberland had tried to
make it appear that he was innocent of any treasonable act. After
capturing the castle, Bolingbroke bestowed it on his third son, John of
Lancaster, and the villagers saw the young prince riding in and out
among them daily so long as he made the castle his home.

Then, in the next reign, they welcomed the return of Hotspur's son,
Henry, to the home of his fathers, restored to him by Henry V.; and,
within a short time, saw him bring home his bride, Eleanor Neville,
daughter of his friend and neighbour, the Earl of Westmoreland.

In the Wars of the Roses, Warkworth Castle saw many changes of fortune,
as the tide of victory flowed this way and that. The Percies were all
Lancastrians, though Sir Ralph Percy changed sides twice. The castle
fell into the hands of the Yorkists, and the great Earl of Warwick, the
"King-maker" himself, made it his headquarters for a time, while he
superintended the sieges of Alnwick, Dunstanborough, and Bamburgh, which
were all invested at the same time. Eventually, after the Wars of the
Roses concluded, Warkworth was restored, along with the other Percy
estates, to its original owners.

Finally, the inhabitants of the little village saw the church entered by
the Jacobites in 1715, when Mr. Buxton, chaplain of the little force,
prayed for James III. and Mary the Queen-mother; and General Forster,
dressed as a trumpeter, proclaimed King James III. at the village cross.

A few miles north from the mouth of the Coquet, the little Aln spreads
over the sandy flats near Alnmouth, and reaches the sea. It has changed
its course, for at one time it flowed to the south of Church Hill,
instead of to the north as at present. The town of Alnmouth, viewed from
the train just before entering Alnmouth Station, looks very picturesque,
especially if the rare sunshine of an English summer should be li