Everett-Green Evelyn
A Clerk of Oxford, and His Adventures in the Barons' War
All the place was astir. Recruits had joined the little band. The spirit of enthusiasm and enterprise was working mightily; the consciousness of the near presence of the Earl acted like new wine on the spirits of the men.
The ride from Watford to St. Albans was but short, and soon after nine o'clock the little band approached the city Walls. The same air of excitement and animation pervaded that locality, and as soon as Amalric's banner was seen, the people rushed out and gave him eager and joyous welcome. Leaving the bulk of his followers drawn up in the street, and taking with him only Leofric and a couple of others, Amalric went straight to the quarters of his father. All the place was full of soldiers, the clang of arms was heard everywhere, and the tale of the uprising of the citizens of London in their hero's favour was passing from mouth to mouth in the crowd. Amalric was received with shouts of welcome when it was known that he was indeed a son of their chief and idol. The cheering brought De Montfort out from his house, and it was touching to see the eager greeting betwixt father and son.
Amalric was off his horse in a moment, and had bent his knee to his father; whilst the Earl's eagle face softened at sight of his youngest son, and he embraced him tenderly, with many tokens of welcome and greeting.
A few words served to explain the mutual position of father and son. The Earl was glad of any reinforcements of trained men at this juncture, and spoke very courteously to Amalric's gallant little Oxford contingent when he rode up at his son's side. Already preparations were afoot for the moving on towards Northampton, and De Montfort explained to Amalric that the younger Simon was there, conducting the defence, and had sent an urgent summons to his father to march quickly thither to his relief.
"Simon is rash," said the Earl gravely: "he has courage, but lacks discretion. I shall not rest till I am there myself. I would that I could be in a score of places at once!"
It would not be possible to reach Northampton till the morrow; but the army was being marshalled into array for the start, when suddenly there came dashing into the town a mud-bespattered messenger, riding a horse that looked ready to drop, and Amalric suddenly cried out in alarm, —
"My lord father – see! it is my brother Guy!"
Guy de Montfort it was. He had outstripped all his followers in his eagerness when he knew that his father was at hand. His horse reeled in his tracks, and fell panting and exhausted in the streets the moment his task was done; whilst the rider, weary and worn as he was, flung himself upon his father with an eager demonstration of joy, albeit he was the bearer of evil tidings.
"The city is lost to us! Northampton is in the King's hands! It is all the treachery of the foreign foe!" and there and then in the ears of the indignant people he poured out his tale – how the Prior of the monastery of St. Andrew, just outside the walls, had undermined the wall, and so let in a party of the King's soldiers, whilst an attack had been feigned at the opposite end of the town. It was no lack of gallantry on the part of the besieged; for so well had they defended the walls, and in particular so great had been the damage done to the assailants through the slings, the bows, and the catapults of the Oxford clerks, who fought under an independent banner of their own, that the King had vowed he would slay every man of them once he got into the city; so that these had had to fly helter-skelter when the news came that the town had been taken by strategy, and that the King's troops were already within.
"And thy brother Simon?" asked De Montfort, who listened silently to this tale, without breaking into the lamentations which filled the air from those who stood round.
"Alack, he is a prisoner in the King's hands!" answered Guy – "a fate I narrowly escaped myself. For we ordered a sortie as a last hope, and Simon's horse, terrified by the noise and confusion, became unmanageable, and carried him whether he would or no into the camp of our foes. I was riding after him to seek to aid him, when I was surrounded and carried off, not by enemies, but by friends. The Oxford clerks having got wind of the King's special wrath against them, were flying from the city ere they should be taken, and seeing me in peril, they dashed round and bore me away with them. I could scarce thank them at the time; but methinks it is little I could do for Simon, and liberty with the power to fight is sweet."
Great dismay and anger reigned in the ranks of De Montfort's soldiers at the news of this disastrous event; but the Earl himself reminded his followers that it was but the fortune of war. They could not look for unqualified success in any campaign, but must take the evil with the good, not being over-elated by the one, nor unduly cast down by the other.
But the news brought by his son changed the tactics of the Earl. To march upon Northampton would now be useless. He was in some ways glad to be spared that task, and to carry out his former plans of securing Rochester, which had fallen into the hands of the Earl of Warenne and some other nobles, and was now holding out for the King.
But before the army started forth on this counter-march, the heart of Leofric was gladdened and lightened by the sudden appearance of his comrades Jack Dugdale and Gilbert Barbeck, who had been amongst that band of Oxford clerks who had made their way to Northampton, and had narrowly escaped falling into the hands of the enraged monarch.
Now they came riding after Guy de Montfort in straggling fashion, weary and worn with their rapid flight, but full of hope and courage, and eager to join forces with the great Earl, to whose cause they were bound body and soul. It was a gladsome meeting between the comrades, and the Earl himself gave cordial welcome to the gallant little band, and even postponed his march for a few hours, to give them time to rest and refresh themselves, and to obtain fresh horses from the friendly citizens.
"Now, this is like adventure!" cried eager Jack, as they rode forth at last, a gallant company, he and Leofric side by side, to their own infinite content. "I tell thee, good comrade, I have tasted war, and I like the flavour of it mightily. I hewed down with my good sword three fellows who came spurring after us, and from the walls I slew a goodly number. Yes, the King himself stormed at the havoc we clerks of Oxford wrought amongst his followers. I tell thee, Leofric, if he did put slight upon us, we have revenged that slight in baths of blood!"
From his talk, merry Jack seemed almost to have turned into a bloodthirsty soldier; yet he was the good-natured, kindly comrade as of old to those who came across him. He became a favourite with all during that quick march, and even the grave Earl was seen to smile sometimes, either at some of the youth's sallies, or at the mirth they provoked. For Amalric would have him in his company, enlisting him as an esquire, second only to Leofric; so that De Montfort could not but notice him from time to time, and once he called upon him for his account of the fight on the walls of Northampton.
But Jack was destined to distinguish himself in another way ere many days had passed. He was burning with zeal in the cause of the Barons, and intensely eager to avenge the slight put upon that cause by the stratagem of Northampton.
"If they outwitted us once, surely we may outwit them here," he remarked, as he looked at the solid walls of the city of Rochester, and wondered how they were to be captured.
He took counsel with one or two bold spirits, Leofric amongst the number, and presently the vague idea which had suggested itself grew into a definite plan.
Amalric himself led the youth into the presence of his father to tell the thing he had conceived, and Jack spoke out boldly, being a stranger to fear.
"Sir," he said, "I have been used to the water all my days, and yestere'en I took a boat and dropped down with the tide into the city. There is a bridge in the heart of it, and I thought how that if, whilst we wait without the walls, we should send a fire-ship up the river's mouth with the tide, and fire it against the bridge, it would so affright and disturb the city, drawing all attention to the centre of the town, that our brave soldiers at the gates could soon force an entrance, even as at Northampton the false attack drew off the attention of us all from that spot where the false foreign Prior had undermined the wall. If a base foreign traitor can outwit honest Englishmen, surely it is a game we can pay them back!"
The Earl turned over the idea many times, and it found favour in his sight. A small fire-ship could be easily made ready, and the ruse might prove successful.
"And how shall we know that the ship will come to anchor by the bridge and fire there?" he asked thoughtfully.
"Sir," answered Jack boldly, "if you will accord your gracious permission, I will guide it thither myself, and having fired it will dive off, and secrete myself somewhere amongst the shipping until the tide turn and I can swim away. Or perchance my comrade, Leofric, will accompany me in a small boat, and take me aboard when my task is done."
The idea took hold upon the mind of De Montfort, and with great dispatch and secrecy the fire-ship was prepared. The strong walls of Rochester hardly invited assault unless there were some counter-distraction within the city to render such assault less perilous to those without.
The warlike Earl was daily weakening the walls by the resolute action of his engines. He had machines almost unknown as yet in England, and gave the besieged little rest night or day. But for all that the solid walls still defied him, and the idea of assault was too perilous even for the courage of the fearless De Montfort. He must not risk a second repulse, lest the spirit of his soldiers should give way. He must not attempt anything till success was assured.
But Jack's stratagem was destined to prove a complete success. Accompanied only by Leofric, in a light boat towed behind, the bold young soldier guided his phantom craft up the mouth of the river upon a dark, moonless night. By this time he had learned the river by heart, and had no difficulty in quietly grounding the vessel against the bridge. Then silently setting light to her fiery contents, he slipped overboard to Leofric, and the two cast off, and rowed with muffled oars to the appointed landing-place, where their friends awaited them.
Long before they reached it the whole sky was in a glow, and they even caught glimpses of hurrying throngs of people, all hastening to the scene of the conflagration. That the whole town was in an uproar of confusion they could tell even from a long distance. And Jack sang aloud and cheered lustily in the joy and triumph of his heart.
But a greater triumph was in store for the comrades when they finally reached shore, and were brought by their companions into the lines once more.
The stratagem had been completely successful; the people had all rushed down to the scene of the fire, even the soldiers quitting their posts to assist. De Montfort, with a picked body of men, had made a grand assault where the walls near to the gate had become greatly weakened. Wall and gate had alike given way with a crash, and the besieging army had streamed in in triumph. Rochester had fallen into the hands of the Barons!
CHAPTER XXIII
ON THE FIELD OF LEWES
They stood looking down upon the green plains and the venerable Priory of Lewes. The cup-like hollow presented a strange appearance, being dotted over with tents, and filled with armed men, moving hither and thither like human ants, intent upon some important task. Within the walls of the Priory the King was lodged, with his brother, his son, and his counsellors.
The little knot of youths, stationed upon the knoll that commanded a view of these things, had their eyes fixed upon a small party of riders who were moving forward towards the Priory, carrying a white flag before them.
A nearer view would have told an observer that two of this party were ecclesiastics in their robes of office, being in fact none other than the Bishops of London and Worcester; but those spectators on the knoll did not need the evidence of eyesight to tell them that. They were well aware of the embassy of the Bishops, and of the import of the message they bore.
"If that fails to bring his Majesty to his senses," said Amalric gravely, "nothing can avert a bloody battle."
"I would we might settle the matter by force of arms!" cried Jack, whose blood was up, and who was eager for the ordeal of battle. "Even if the King doth make promises, who knows if he will keep them? I am sick of parley. I want the sword to be loosed from the scabbard. The King has wrought desolation and ruin wherever he has gone. It is time that he tasted that which he has inflicted."
Jack spoke with eager impetuosity, which seemed suited to the martial aspect of his strong, well-knit figure. He had gone up in the world since his escapade with the fire-ship. He had now a fine charger of his own, and a suit of mail. He was ranked as one of Amalric's esquires, and was a favourite even with the Earl himself, who spoke kindly to him whenever they met.
London had of late been the headquarters of the Barons' army, whilst the royalists had been marching hither and thither over the country, "accompanied," as the chronicler of the time described it, "by three comrades – plunder, fire, and slaughter. There was no peace in the land; everything was destroyed by sword, fire, rapine, and robbery; everywhere was clamour and trembling and woe."
It was a state of things which could not continue, and the hearts of the nation turned to the Earl as to a deliverer who alone could save them from such misery. The men of London were with him heart and soul, and had furnished him with a contingent fifteen thousand strong, with which to meet and overcome the tyrant. But still De Montfort hesitated to draw the sword in open battle against his sovereign; and even now, at the eleventh hour, when the two armies had mustered about the field of Lewes, he had sent two Bishops of known probity and piety, to endeavour to bring the King to reason before the last appeal to arms was made.
"What said the letter of the Earls?" asked Jack eagerly of Leofric, who as a ready scribe was often employed in such matters as these. "Thou wert closeted long with them last night. What did they say that hath not been said a hundred times ere now?"
Leofric drew from his tunic certain fragments of parchment, closely written, which he scanned several times over, and then made reply to Jack's question.
"The Earls of Leicester and Gloucester did but repeat for themselves and their party what has been said a hundred times before – namely, that they desired peace, and to serve the King faithfully, and only to put down the enemies of the realm, who deceive both his Majesty and the Prince, and do despite to the realm. They offered to pay a large sum as compensation for hurt done to the King's property, if he would make peace and observe the Provisions of Oxford, and submit to the decision of 'certain chosen Churchmen' what statutes ought to be observed, and how far the oaths taken ought to be binding, saying that they wished to keep their faith as Christians, and avoid the stain of perjury."
Long and eagerly did the comrades upon the hillside talk together, wondering whether this embassy of the Bishops would succeed where other things had failed, or whether the King, blinded by pride and advised by evil counsellors, would press matters on to the bitter end. They could observe the signs of commotion below, round and about the Priory, and finally they watched the great gates being flung wide open to admit of the exit of the ambassadors.
"What news will they bring – what news?" cried Amalric breathlessly, and he turned and hastened towards his father's quarters, mounting his horse, which stood tethered a little way off, and galloping away without waiting for his companions.
Leofric had paused when about to follow, for his eye had been caught by an advancing figure that looked somehow familiar, and which seemed making straight for them upon the knoll. Just as Amalric rode off, Jack broke into a quick exclamation, —
"By my troth, here is our quondam companion Hugh!"
The next moment Hugh le Barbier stood beside them, grasping their hands and looking with eager affection into their faces.
Although he came from the hostile camp, there was no hostility in the hearts of the Oxford students as they stood together once more. Eagerly did Hugh ask of their welfare, eagerly did they question him as to his adventures during the past months, and, above all, most eagerly did they ask him if he knew what sort of answer the King had returned to the messengers just sent, and whether there was any chance of a cessation of hostilities.
Hugh gravely shook his head.
"His Majesty is greatly incensed against the Barons. He would scarce listen with patience whilst the letter was being read. Had it been brought by others than Bishops, I fear me he would not even have heard it. His brother sat beside him, and in scorn he declared that he alone claimed the full sum offered by the Barons, as indemnity against his own personal losses. He and the Prince were equally indignant with the King; and whilst his Majesty dictated the terms of a wrathful letter in which he defies the Earls, and throws back their allegiance and their oaths of fidelity in their teeth, the Prince and his uncle together wrote another letter even more haughty and insulting than the one composed by the King, calling the Earls of Leicester and Gloucester 'faithless traitors,' and I know not what besides, and hurling defiance at them in a fashion than can but lead to one end. There will be no avoiding a battle now!"
Jack's eyes lighted with triumph, but Hugh spoke sorrowfully. He loved the Prince, and he felt bound to the royal standard by his duty as a subject. But the cause was not dear to his heart. Henry was not a monarch to inspire either confidence or love, and his embracing the cause of his foreign favourites – against whom this movement was really directed – and telling his own English Barons that any opposition to them was opposition to him, and that their quarrel was his, rendered him but a pitiful creature in the eyes even of those who desired to serve him loyally and well. None could stand near the royal presence without being continually galled and chafed by seeing aliens and sycophants preferred to honest and noble subjects of the realm. Hugh had had a fair insight of late into the methods of the King, and his heart was somewhat heavy within him at the thought of what must lie before the kingdom if the issues of the day should be favourable to the royal cause.
"If only the Prince were King!" he breathed. "He is hot and rash now, stirred up to filial emulation in his father's cause; but his heart is true and his judgment sound. Were he to be at the head of the state, we should not have to groan as we are groaning now."
And then turning suddenly away to another subject, he asked news of Linda, where and how his comrades had seen her last, and if she were still safe in the care of the Constable.
"Yes, and like a sister to Mistress Alys," answered Leofric. "I trow she is safe from any threatened peril there. But we have heard and seen naught of her foes since they were driven forth from the city by the Chancellor. I misdoubt me if they will ever seek to return."
"And Lotta – is aught known of her?" asked Hugh.
"She dwells with her parents yet," answered Leofric. "I seldom see her; but Gilbert Barbeck tells me sometimes of her. She refused to visit Linda in the Castle, and spoke fierce words which show that her heart is yet bitter within her. But more than that I know not. She was always a strange creature. Her own mother knows not how to deal with her."
"Some say she hath a familiar spirit, and some that she is mad, which perhaps is one and the same thing," said Jack. "All I know is that she looks at you with eyes that burn like live coals. Methinks she has been dabbling with Tito's evil books. If she takes not care, she may be ducked or burnt as a witch yet!"
But this was scarce time or place to dwell on private topics. Little doubt could now exist that they were on the eve of a great battle. Hugh looked regretfully into Leofric's eyes as they clasped hands before parting.
"I would we could fight side by side, instead of in hostile camps," he said; "but when this cloud of evil and misery has swept by, I trust that we may be comrades once again, in Oxford or elsewhere."
"To be sure! to be sure!" cried cheery Jack. "Let once the King be brought to reason, and all those vile foreigners sent back to their own country, and our good Earl (foreigner though he be in race, yet not at heart) at the head of his Council, then we shall forget our troubles and feuds, and all will go merry as a marriage-bell."
Yet for the moment there was nothing of merriment in the hearts of men, but a stern nerving of themselves for coming strife.
Leofric and Jack were met by the news that the King had received the embassy with coldness and hostility, and had sent back an answer so insulting and uncompromising that nothing was now thought of but the appeal to arms.
Leofric, going in search of Amalric, found himself in the midst of an earnest gathering of knights and nobles, and heard the clarion voice of De Montfort raised in solemn protest.
"By the arm of St. James, I have done all that man can do to keep the peace of the realm and my oath of allegiance. Be the result of this day's work upon the head of his Majesty! He has brought all upon himself. I would have saved him from it if I could."
The Earl had had a presentiment, of which he had spoken before, that May was to be a fortunate month for him, and an unlucky one for the King. He went about amongst his people now with a look of serene courage upon his face; and whilst stimulating them to do their best in the coming fight, he urged them not to forget that their foes were also their brothers, and that they must show mercy to the vanquished in the day of victory.
A sense of great seriousness and earnestness prevailed in the ranks of the Barons. They trusted their cause to the God of battles, assured of its righteousness, and inspired by a religious as well as a patriotic zeal. Many friars were with them, encouraging them by their presence, and filling their hearts with fervent and pious thoughts. The soldiers regarded their cause as a holy crusade against tyranny and slavery, and in token of this feeling they fastened upon their arms a white cross, as an outward mark of their faith. In a battle with their own countrymen some such sign might be needed to distinguish friend from foe. A stern enthusiasm filled all hearts, and the confidence of the soldiers in their leader was unfaltering.
De Montfort had won great renown as a soldier in Gascony, and his troops had implicit faith in his powers. Moreover he set them an example even in faith and piety; for upon the eve of the battle he spent the night in prayer, whilst the Bishop of Worcester – one of the emissaries to the King, and himself a notable patriot, Walter de Cantilupe by name – rode through the ranks, and urged the men to confess their sins and receive absolution, that they might ride forth upon the morrow in the full assurance that the power of God was with them.
Early upon the morning of the fourteenth of May, before the sun had risen, the army of the Earl set itself in battle array, and prepared for the march. In sight of all his men De Montfort bestowed the honour of knighthood upon his brother-in-arms and brother Earl the young Earl Gilbert of Gloucester, and two others; after which, with brave hearts and cheery faces, the men marched in capital order towards that very crest of rising ground from which a few days before Leofric and Jack had looked down upon the town and Priory of Lewes, when the Bishops had gone forth with their embassy.
Since his accident in the winter, the Earl of Leicester had not been able to ride as much as formerly, and he had a litter in which he was carried. In that he travelled as far as this halting-place, although he was to mount his charger during the battle. His litter would, however, be kept in readiness upon the field, in the event of his requiring it; and it was to remain beside the standard upon which his arms waved proudly. For the nonce, instead of himself or any of his own followers occupying it, there were placed inside for security those four traitors of London who had once plotted his destruction, and who had been hostages in his hands ever since. These men, bound, were placed in the litter when it was vacated by De Montfort in favour of the charger now led up for him to mount.
But before doing so, the Earl turned to his soldiers, and addressed them in his clear, ringing tones, —
"Beloved comrades and followers, we are about to enter upon battle to-day in behalf of the Government of the kingdom, to the honour of God and of our mother Church, and moreover for the maintenance of our faith. Let us pray for grace and vigour, that we may overpower the malice of our enemy. Since we are His, to Him we commend our bodies and souls." With these words he fell upon the ground, stretching out his arms in the form of a cross, all his soldiers following his example, whilst the Bishops cried aloud, —
"Grant us, O Lord, our desire of a glorious victory, to the honour of Thy name."
Then the battle was set in order, and Leofric and Jack found themselves placed in the right wing, which was to be led by Henry de Montfort, with Guy and Amalric as his assistants. The centre was under the command of the newly-made knight, Gilbert of Gloucester, who was to show his valour to-day. The left wing was composed mainly of the Londoners, many of whom had never seen war. They were commanded by three young nobles of known courage. As for De Montfort himself, he took up a position where he could watch the progress of the fight, and give help to that portion of the army which seemed most to require it.
The situation was a good one, on rising ground; and the tents and baggage were piled on the crest of the hill, where the banner of De Montfort floated by the side of his vacated litter.
They had marched rapidly, in order to surprise the King's party; but warning had reached them, and already there was a great stirring in the hollow, which was alive with bands of soldiers being drafted into position.
Jack looked down with kindling eyes and flushed cheeks, and almost immediately a strange sort of roar began to run through the ranks. The cause of this excitement appeared to be the banner which had just been unfurled in the royalist ranks.
"The red dragon! the red dragon!"
Leofric and Jack looked wonderingly at each other.
"What mean they by that? What is the red dragon?" they asked. And Amalric, looking over his shoulder with a stern, set face, made reply, —
"When the ensign of the red dragon is unfurled in the ranks of the King, it is the sign that no quarter is to be given. We are to be slaughtered like sheep in the shambles if it pleases Heaven to give our foes the victory."
At the sound of those words a strange murmur ran through the ranks. Men gripped their sword-hilts hard, and set their teeth with a sense of iron resolution, and an indignation which would go far to win the day.
The field was in motion. The quick eyes of those posted upon the hillsides saw that the royalists had begun to move. Prince Edward on the right, was bearing vehemently upon their left wing, which consisted of the London levies. The Prince had been bitterly angry with the men of London ever since they had stoned and insulted his mothers barge, as she tried to escape by water from the Tower, but was driven ignominiously back by the citizens, who hated her for her many extortionate charges upon the city. Now he was rushing furiously against his foes, who wavered before the charge of trained horsemen. But no more of that could Leofric and Jack see, for at this moment their own ranks were called upon to move forward, and, behold, the battle had begun!
The King's brother, Richard of Cornwall, King of the Romans, was leading his forces against them. In another moment the rival armies had met with a crash of arms. There was a stifling sense of pressure, and then a recoil; whilst over the heads of their own men came hurtling showers of stones cast from above at their assailants, and soon the closely-serried ranks both of friends and foes were a little broken and scattered, whilst man met man and horse charged horse in the indescribable mêlée of a hand-to-hand battle.
Side by side, shoulder to shoulder, rode Amalric, Leofric, and Jack. They felt rather than saw the recoil of their foes, who at first had been pressing upon them with such fiery vehemence. Charging down the hill, they met the answering charge of mail-clad warriors; but the slope of the field was in their favour, and they hewed them down and routed them, despite the fiery resistance they met.
They were down upon the level now, and before them stood the serried ranks of the centre of their foes' army behind which floated the red dragon, marking the spot where the King himself was posted.
But from behind, the ranks of the young De Montforts had been reinforced by the contingent commanded by the Earl himself, and the knowledge that their great leader was with them and amongst them seemed to turn to steel the muscles of the soldiers, and with shouts and cries of fury and anticipated triumph they hurled themselves again and again against these opposing warriors, till at last they felt the solid wall give way before them, and with a yell that rent the firmament they dashed into the breach.
"For God and Earl Simon! for God and Earl Simon!" was the cry upon the lips and in the hearts of the soldiers as they felt the breaking up of their royalist foes.
