Everett-Green Evelyn
A Clerk of Oxford, and His Adventures in the Barons' War
CHAPTER XIII
KENILWORTH CASTLE
The summer sun shone bravely down upon a small band of travellers journeying leisurely along through the leafy lanes of Warwickshire.
Of this little band, two members rode ahead of the rest, sometimes silent, but often engaged in earnest conversation. One of the pair was richly dressed, and the horse he rode was a fine animal, fit for a battle charger; the other was well mounted, but his dress was sober, and suggested that of an ecclesiastic, albeit the sunny locks of the rider flowed to his shoulders, and bore no sign of the tonsure. Both riders were young, neither being over twenty years of age; but those were days when youths were ranked as men at eighteen, and there were even warriors in the battle ranks who counted less years than that, whilst few comparatively of those who lived a stirring life in the midst of stress and strife lived to see their hair turn grey.
The younger of the pair, he of the more knightly aspect, was none other than Amalric de Montfort. His companion was Leofric Wyvill, who had been for years his chosen comrade and friend.
The young men had just passed through a memorable period of their academic life, and had been invested with the cappa of the bachelor. They had successfully passed through their Responsions and their Determinations. They had ably disputed before a large gathering, and had acquitted themselves to the admiration and satisfaction of all. At Amalric's cost they had given a banquet to the Masters and scholars, and had now attained to the status of Bachelors of Arts; and Leofric, at least, had every intention of continuing his career at the University, and was to give a series of cursory lectures there upon his return.
But for the present he was taking, in company with Amalric, a well-earned holiday. Ever since his first arrival in Oxford, as an impecunious clerk, he had remained there, year in, year out, working hard to support himself and carry on his studies, and this was the first time he had quitted the city either on business or pleasure.
One year of academic life much resembled another; and little change had come into Leofric's condition, save what was brought about by his increasing intimacy with young De Montfort. He and Jack Dugdale still occupied their little turret chamber, which had gradually become more and more comfortable and habitable. Leofric had earned a steady income by his illuminating work upon the vellum he was enabled to purchase, and by assistance to Edmund de Kynaston in his studies. Jack kept the larder supplied, and hung their chamber about with the dressed skins of the creatures he had slain, thus protecting them from the winter's cold, which down in that marshy place was severe and prolonged. The life had been a busy and a happy one, and Leofric found it hard to believe how fast the months and years had sped by. Looking back upon his life as a clerk, it seemed to him to have been very short indeed.
There was still a considerable interval before he could take his degree as Master, and from that go on as inceptor in theology if he had a mind to do so; but he had already won the favourable notice of many persons in the University, and a brilliant career had been prophesied for him if he did but persevere, as he had every intention of doing.
The Determinations had taken place in Lent, as was always the case, and for a while afterwards he and Amalric had remained in Oxford; but they had long planned a holiday together when the summer should come, and a few weeks back they had started off together to see something besides the inside of lecture-halls and the familiar sights of Oxford.
Amalric was determined that Leofric should see London, and their first journey had been to that great city, which was seething in the excitements of that unquiet period, when the struggle betwixt the King and his Barons was becoming ever more and more acute, and when far-seeing men began to predict that the matter would never be settled until swords had been drawn and blood shed on both sides.
After a week spent in that place, the friends had journeyed northward. Leofric had paid a visit to his old friends and fathers the monks of St. Michael, who were delighted to see him and to learn how great success he had achieved. Now they were on their way to the Castle of Kenilworth, Amalric's home, and the youth was growing excited at the thought of seeing again his mother and his sister, who were certain to be there, although he was far less certain of meeting with his father and brothers.
Just latterly the young students had been too much engrossed in their studies to have a very clear idea what was going on in the world around. Now, however, they began to feel a keen interest in these outside matters, and Amalric, as was natural, strove to obtain and piece together every scrap of information he could gain from high or low, eagerly discussing each matter with Leofric, and growing in enthusiasm for the cause to which his father was pledged as day by day passed on.
The arguments upon both sides were strong. The King's party urged that the King should be free; that he is no longer a King if he does not rule as he pleases. He has the same right to rule the kingdom that the Barons have to rule their own estates, and those who would interfere to make a slave of him are robbers and worse, for they are laying unholy hands upon the Lord's anointed.
The Barons' arguments were also culled from Holy Writ, and proved how deeply the teachings of the Franciscans were working in the hearts of the people. The kingdom has to be protected as well as the King. If the King listens to false counsellors, his Barons must guard him from such. Obedience to law is not slavery, and God's laws are for monarch as well as for peasants. True freedom consists in abstaining from evil. The King's people are God's people, and must be ruled in His fear, not in a spirit of greed and oppression. As Christ laid open all things to His disciples, so should a King consult on all weighty matters with his nobles. If he dishonour them and oppress his people, he cannot wonder if he is hated and disobeyed.
These arguments sunk deeply into the minds of the people, and they looked to De Montfort as their hope and deliverer. The past years had been full of trouble and vicissitudes. The King had escaped from the tutelage and restraint imposed upon him, had made himself practical master of London and even of the kingdom for a while, and had set at open defiance the Provisions of Oxford. His son, Prince Edward, had opposed him in this; had said that he, for his own part, could not reconcile it to his conscience to break the oath which he had sworn on that occasion; and had in effect joined himself to the party of the Barons. This had alarmed his father, who perhaps felt that his son was a better leader and stronger spirit than himself, and Edward had been sent off to Gascony to his duties there. As it happened, however, the De Montforts, his cousins, were there also at that time, and the Prince spent most of his time with them, thus adding to the disquietude of his father.
Henry himself had been over to France carrying on the negotiations with Louis concerning his renunciation of his futile claims upon that realm; and upon his return he had asserted himself by summoning a Parliament in the old form, quite irrespective of the Provisions of Oxford, and by seeking to obtain from the Pope a bull absolving him from the oath taken in that city under the compulsion of the Barons.
The Pope, always ready to take the part of so pious a son, and one who had been so useful to him as a tool, was ready enough to grant this absolution, which was couched in characteristic terms by the wily prelate: —
"We therefore, being willing to provide for your dignity in this matter, with our apostolical authority, in the plenitude of our power, from this time forward entirely absolve you from your oath. If, however, there should be anything in those statutes concerning the advantage of prelates, churches, and ecclesiastical persons, we do not intend to make such void, or in any way relax the said oath in that respect."
It was, perhaps, small wonder that the English people, with a lover of freedom and constitutional liberty at their head, should revolt from the rule of a monarch who could place himself beneath the sway of a Roman Pontiff, and accept at his hands such favours as these.
Of all these things and many others Amalric and Leofric spoke as they rode through the sunny country during these long summer days. Everywhere they met the same sort of talk, the same sense of insecurity, the distrust of the King and the enthusiasm for De Montfort which was agitating the hearts of the people everywhere.
The nearer they approached to Kenilworth, the greater did this enthusiasm grow; and when they were so near that the face of Amalric became known, he was received with open arms by all, and was eagerly questioned as to the doings of his noble father, and whether he also were coming to dwell amongst them again.
But of his father's doings at this particular juncture Amalric knew little. He had returned to England – so much he had heard in London – and was doubtless busy somewhere, but whether at Kenilworth or in other districts the young man could not say. It was one of those things he was eager himself to learn.
The golden light of evening was lying over the level plains and wooded slopes as the riders drew near to the Castle, and Amalric suddenly drew rein and pointed to the great tower rising bold and massive from the waters of the lake-like moat and the surrounding park and forest land.
"See," he cried – "see, Leofric, there is my home! Is it not a lordly pile of which one may well be proud? And look at yon white sail upon the lake! that is our own sloop, wherein we have been wont to take our pastime. Ah, happy, happy days of childhood spent within those walls! I wonder if the future will hold anything half so sweet!"
Leofric looked in admiration and amazement at the finest building it had been as yet his lot to see, save perhaps the great Tower of London itself.
Although Kenilworth Castle in those days was not the magnificent pile which it became when the Lancaster and Leicester buildings were added to it, it was yet a very majestic structure, well fitted to be the home of the King's sister, and of the foremost noble of the land. It was a fortress as well as a castle, the walls being in many places from ten to fifteen feet thick, whilst the principal tower – Cæsar's Tower, as it was called – was considered wellnigh impregnable. It had a double row of ramparts, and the moat which lapped the walls upon the south, east, and west sides was more of a lake than a moat, and could be carried round the north side if necessary. Boats were kept upon this lake, where the family disported themselves, and the suite of rooms used by the Earl and Countess were washed by the waters of the lake, and a boat was kept at the water-door for their use and behoof.
The banqueting-hall was capable of seating two hundred persons; and Kenilworth had, besides its innumerable suites of living-rooms, its prison, its mill for grinding corn, its brewery for the manufacture of beer, its weekly market for the interchange of commodities with the neighbouring peasants, and even its courts of justice. For Kenilworth was privileged to hold assize of bread, beer, and so forth, to regulate the prices for these, and weights and measures for other provisions; it had its court-baron for the recovery of debts and the punishment of minor trespasses, and its court-leet for that of more serious crimes. It even had its gallows, which stood frowning upon the castle walls, ready to make an end of any unlucky wight doomed to death by the voice of the court. Such was the life of those days in a place as strong and as important as the Castle of Kenilworth.
But this evening all was sunshine and peace and beauty. Amalric pointed eagerly out to his companion objects of interest in the Castle and grounds as they rode onwards, and eagerly scanned the approaches to the place, if haply he might see some familiar face, or catch a glimpse of mother or sister taking an airing outside the walls.
The gardens themselves lay within the extensive buildings and walls, which formed two immense enclosures, capable of containing, in addition to gardens and orchards, a tilt-yard and courtyard of ample dimensions. Kenilworth was in effect a small township, complete in itself; and there was stabling for above a hundred horses, which stables were often full to overflowing when the Earl and his retinue arrived.
But apparently he was not here to-day, for there were few signs of active life about the place, and even the sentry upon the wall seemed slumbering at his post, so that their approach had not yet been observed.
Suddenly Amalric shaded his eyes with his hand, and gazing towards the waters of the moat, exclaimed, —
"In good sooth I am certain that yon figure in that white-sailed boat is that of my sister Eleanora! Come, good comrade, let us leave the road and ride up to the water's edge! Let us take her by surprise! – my pretty, dainty little sister Nell. She will not have forgotten me, I trow, though I have not seen her for three years and more."
Spurring his horse eagerly forward, and closely followed by Leofric, Amalric galloped towards the edge of the lake, upon whose placid bosom a little white-sailed sloop was idly rocking, the wind having scarce power to drift it from side to side.
As they drew near they could see that the only occupant of the boat was a young maiden of perhaps twelve summers, though she looked more, being tall and slim, and possessed of a high-bred grace and self-possession which her training had given her. She had just observed the unceremonious approach of these riders, and was about to direct her craft towards the opposite bank as a mark of her displeasure, when something in Amalric's dress and bearing arrested her attention, and she gazed earnestly at him, whilst the boat drifted nearer and nearer inshore.
"Sister mine, dost know me?" cried the youth, springing from his horse and running to the very edge of the water.
She looked at him with wide eyes full of wonder, which kindled into joy as she recalled his face.
"Amalric, dear Amalric!" she cried, stretching out her arms to him; and the next moment he had drawn the boat ashore, and had her fast in a brother-like embrace.
"Amalric! how comest thou thither? Is our father with thee? Art come with news of him?"
"Nay, but to get news of him, and to see thee and my mother, and to take a holiday after all these years of study. Art glad to see me again, little Nell?"
"O brother, yes! I missed thee sorely when thou didst go away; and now thou wilt be so learned I shall almost fear to talk with thee. But I too have learned to read the Latin tongue; and my mother has given order for some fine vellum to be bought for me; and I am to have a breviary of mine own when we can find some clever scribe who will transcribe it for me. But tell me now, Amalric, who is thy friend who stands thus modestly by? for methinks he has a gentle air. He is not a servant, but a friend, I trow."
"Thou art right, sister; a friend in good sooth. It is the same as I have written of, if thou hast received the letters I have writ to my mother as occasion has served. I would present him to thee – my faithful friend and comrade, by name Leofric Wyvill. Thou wilt give him welcome, I doubt not, for my sake."
"Ay, and for his own," said the little Lady Eleanora, or, as she was universally styled (probably to distinguish her from her mother), the Demoiselle. The Countess of Leicester was always spoken of in her household as the Lady Eleanora; for although the sister of a King, no higher title had as yet been accorded to the Princesses of the blood royal, at least in the common round of everyday life. The only daughter of the Earl and Countess, therefore, had her own distinguishing title of Demoiselle, by which she was universally known throughout the Castle of Kenilworth.
As she spoke she held out her hand with an air of gracious dignity, and Leofric bent the knee and raised it reverently to his lips. The maiden smiled, innocently pleased with the homage, and addressed him in friendly tones.
"We have heard of you, fair sir, and you are welcome to Kenilworth. – Amalric, let us give our mother a surprise. Come into the boat with me – yes, and you also, sir – and let us across to the water-door, and enter her apartments without announcement! I trow she will give us joyful welcome. We are looking from day to day for the arrival of our father and his retinue. Thou dost seem like a herald of his approach."
Leofric's skilful management of the boat drew forth the approbation of the Demoiselle, who permitted him, with a charming smile, to hand her ashore at the wide stone landing-place, upon which opened an oaken doorway studded with brass plates and heavy bolts. The door, however, opened readily to the touch of the child's hands, and when she had pushed aside a curtain, the trio found themselves in a vast and beautiful apartment, so much more luxurious than anything that Leofric had ever seen that he stood mute and spell-bound at the sight. But the Demoiselle, laughing gaily at his silent bewilderment, called to them to follow, and pushing aside a rich curtain of sombre hue, she beckoned to them to pass within into a smaller second chamber.
This room was very bright, for a western oriel window let in a flood of glory. Seated near to this window, some fine embroidery in her hands, was a stately and dignified figure, at sight of whom Leofric instinctively retreated a step; for he knew without any telling that he was in the presence of the Lady Eleanora, wife of the great De Montfort and sister to the King.
Amalric and the Demoiselle sprang forward, uttering their mother's name, and the next moment Amalric had dropped upon his knees at her feet, to be clasped in her fond arms.
Whatever faults and failings Eleanora possessed – and that she was proud, extravagant (at least in early life), and wilful no one who reads her life can deny – in her relations as wife and mother her loyalty, tenderness, and unselfishness shine out in no dim colours. Her husband loved and revered her; her children almost worshipped her. She had always a warm and loving welcome for them, and was never so happy as when she could gather them about her, albeit in those troubled times these opportunities were growing rarer and more rare.
Leofric, standing just within the curtain, could not but gaze with admiring eyes at the queenly woman before him. Although the Countess was very plainly habited in a russet robe with no other trimming than white lamb's wool, and had no ornament upon her person save a golden clasp to her girdle, there was yet in her aspect such dignity and high-born grace that he could not take his eyes from her beautiful face, and the story of her romantic secret marriage with De Montfort (which Amalric had often told to him) came flashing into his mind, and he could not wonder that the Earl had dared so much to win that noble woman for his wife.
The Lady Eleanora's face was thin and worn with anxiety, and her eyes had that peculiar light which bespeaks a life of anxious watching. Her life had not been a smooth one, for she had shared in all things her husband's cares and troubles. Yet with all that she had not lost the gracious sweetness of manner which had been hers from girlhood, and when at last she beheld Leofric standing mute and shrinking just beside the door, she made her son present him, receiving him with a gentle courtesy and kindness which put him at once at his ease, and made him her devoted servant from that time forward.
She would not dismiss him to the quarters of the retainers, albeit his rank was humble. She treated him as the friend and equal of her son, and the fact of his having been of much assistance to Amalric during his course of study gave him a standing at once. For the Lady Eleanora had a great respect for learning, and all her children were well educated for the times they lived in. Her sons had all received instruction from such celebrated men as Robert Grostête and Adam Marisco, and scholars, even if humble by birth, were always well treated within the walls of Kenilworth.
So when refreshment was served for Amalric in a neighbouring chamber, Leofric was made to sit at table with him, and was given a room close by that of his comrade. He made one of the little party that gathered in the small oriel room after the more formal supper had been eaten in the hall below, and he listened with the keenest interest whilst the Countess related to her son the events of the past years and months, and the condition of public affairs as they now stood.
"I pray God," she said, "that my brother the King will be advised for his good, and that this land may be saved from the miseries of war. But I greatly fear me that he will refuse to be bound by the Provisions of Oxford, even as our father refused to be bound by the terms of the Great Charter. If that be so, there is but one remedy for the evil – the appeal to arms; and from that your father will not shrink, if he knows his cause to be a righteous one."
"And where is he now?" asked Amalric eagerly.
"He is in England; but more than that I do not know. He returned from Gascony a short while since, and he has been conferring earnestly ever since with our friends in various parts of the country. I am looking for him daily now at Kenilworth. Every day that passes brings him one day nearer."
