Everett-Green Evelyn
A Clerk of Oxford, and His Adventures in the Barons' War
Leofric had been fighting might and main, blindly sometimes, and breathlessly, yet with a skill and fury which surprised even himself. Suddenly he began to feel everything swimming around him. He had been conscious of no wound, but he saw that his blood was flowing fast. If he fell in the midst of this mêlée, he must surely be trodden to death in a moment. But he was becoming so faint that he scarce cared what became of him, when he suddenly felt an arm cast about him, and heard a voice say in his ear, —
"Hold up, good comrade, hold up! I will get thee out of this. The victory is won! The King is wounded and in full flight! We may quit the battlefield with glory now. The day is ours!"
An hour or two later Leofric opened his eyes to find himself lying in a tent, amid a number of other wounded men, the honest face of Jack bending over him with kindly solicitude and concern.
"How goes the day?" he asked, as soon as he could find voice; and Jack's face beamed all over as he replied, —
"Why, right gloriously! The King's forces are routed. He has taken shelter in the Priory. The King of the Romans has shut himself up in a windmill, whence he has been besieged by our men, who will shortly have him out – treacherous Richard, as all call him, who once called himself the Barons' friend. I trow there be no man in all the kingdom more hated than he!"
"And the Prince?" asked Leofric, striving to sit up in his excitement, but finding himself exceeding weak.
"Why, the Prince might have made things worse for us, had he been as wise as he is brave. He routed the London wing, but pursued them so furiously and so far that whilst he was slaying and hacking the fortunes of the day went against his father. Then on his return, ere he knew this, he set his men against the litter which stood beside the standard, and where he thought to find our great Earl seated. His men came furiously up the crest of the hill, and surrounding the litter began to cry out, 'Come forth, come forth, Simon, thou evil one; come forth from that litter, thou worst of traitors!' And at last, getting no response, they broke open the litter, and in the confusion which followed, all the four hostages, men of their own party, were hacked to death by their own friends!"
"Poor creatures!" said Leofric, with compassion; "that was a gruesome fate. But what did the Prince next?"
"He made a circuit to get to his own side of the plain once more, and only a while back was about to make a sally; but the Earl sent proposals for a truce, and these were accepted: for indeed what could even so brave a Prince do, with a band of men exhausted by fighting and marching, and dispirited to the verge of despair by the knowledge that the cause was lost?"
"Hast thou seen aught of Hugh?" asked Leofric; but Jack shook his head. He had had his hands full in helping first his own wounded comrade, and afterwards those who lay stretched upon the field of victory. He had been working and toiling from dawn till now – marching, fighting, and carrying in the wounded. He had had no thoughts to spare for any but his own side.
A shout of laughter, and the tramp of many feet, announced that something fresh had happened. There was a great tumult of sound, and Jack darted out to see what was happening.
He came back with his face bubbling over with mirth.
"They are bringing in Richard, treacherous Richard, the King of the Romans," he cried – "he who, in his letter but the other day, called himself 'always august,' They are calling him a bad miller, and twitting him with his august windmill! Oh, thou shouldest see his face! He looks like a dozen thunder-clouds all rolled into one!"
A great burst of cheering from some place hard by told that the prisoner had been brought to Earl Simon's tent; and with the failure of the light came the knowledge that the battle was fought and won. The field of Lewes had decided the fate of the country for the present. The Barons had achieved an undoubted victory.
CHAPTER XXIV
AFTER THE BATTLE
"Sitteth all still, and hearkeneth to me:
The King of Alemagne, by my loyalty,
Thirty thousand pounds asked he,
For to make the peace in the countree,
And so he did more.
Richard, though thou be ever trichard [treacherous],
Tricken [trick us] shalt thou never more.
"The King of Alemagne gathered his host,
Made him a castle of a mill-post,
Went with his pride and his mickle boast,
Brought from Alemagne many a sorry ghost
To store Windsor.
Richard, though thou be ever trichard,
Tricken shalt thou never more."
This was the song which resounded through the camp of the victors after the battle of Lewes, together with others in praise of De Montfort, too lengthy to be quoted here.
Richard, the King's brother, King of the Romans and Earl of Cornwall, was the especial butt of the popular disfavour, and his recent behaviour had added greatly to his unpopularity.
He had betrayed a very grasping spirit in claiming as his individual due the entire sum of thirty thousand pounds, offered by the Barons as an indemnity to the King; and his haughty note to the Barons afterwards was taken in very bad part, seeing that once he had been their friend and ally. He was looked upon as being both treacherous and vindictive; and this song (which is remarkable as being the earliest specimen of its kind in the English language, nearly all such compositions being in Norman-French or Latin up to this date) was composed in the camp at Lewes, and sung lustily by the soldiers in the very ears of the captive Richard.
Leofric, from his place in the tent where the wounded had been conveyed, could hear the sounds of mirth and mockery as the triumphant soldiers passed to and fro. His friends came in and out with various items of news; and upon the second day a new face looked in upon him as he lay, and eagerly stretching forth his hands, he exclaimed, —
"Hugh, is that truly thou? Right glad am I to see thee. I did fear that thou mightest have been numbered with the slain. But how comest thou hither?"
"I came with the Prince, to give myself up prisoner, even as he hath done. But they desire no captives save a few of the highest in the land. Your great Earl knows how to use nobility and generosity in the hour of triumph. He even spoke a kind word to me, and restored to me my liberty. I heard that thou wert here, and came to visit thee. How goes it with thee, good comrade? I trust thy wounds are not grievous."
"Nay, little more than scratches; only there be many of them, and I did lose much blood ere I was aware. Tell me of thyself, Hugh, what didst thou do? I see thou hast thine arm slung in thy scarf. Thou hast not come off scot-free."
"A fellow broke the bone of my sword arm with his axe," answered Hugh; "but that matters the less, since there will be no more fighting, they say, these many days. All the talk is now of peace and brotherly accord. There are messengers passing to and fro betwixt the Earl and the King; and already the royalist troops are melting away. I cannot grieve that the fight has ended thus, even though I fought upon the royal side. I love not the crooked dealings of the King; and I hate the minions he surrounds himself with, so that honest subjects cannot get anigh him. It will be well for the land when these are banished. And yet I would that the King should be a King, and not a puppet even in the hands of a worthy man such as your Earl."
Leofric made a sign of assent. He was enough of a student and scholar himself by this time to be well aware that no subject, even though he were the highest in the land, could long rule in the name of a practically captive King. It was against the traditions and instincts of the nation. The people might support a movement for the redress of crying grievances, even at the expense of the King's liberty; but when things had been put upon a better footing, jealousies were certain to awaken, there would come disunion amongst those who had been united in the hour of peril, and he who had been regarded as the saviour of the nation at this crisis would doubtless come to be looked upon as a tyrant and even a usurper, if he succeeded in imposing his will upon the King for any length of time, and held the reins of government firmly in his hand. Something of this had been seen already, after the Provisions of Oxford had made De Montfort so great a man in the kingdom. It was likely to be seen again more markedly now, when a great victory had put him in actual possession of the person of the King.
Nevertheless the news which reached the camp as to the terms suggested by the Barons showed that these were characterized by great moderation. "The Mise of Lewes," as it was called, provided that all foreigners should be excluded from office, though aliens should have free entry into the country for trading and private purposes. The royal revenues were to be managed with greater economy, and the abuse of church patronage to be checked. Other disputed matters were to be referred to arbitrators – some French and some English nobles.
For the rest, a general amnesty was to be declared, and a release of prisoners on both sides effected. The King and the Prince, and a few of their next of kin, would remain hostages in the hands of the Barons; but all men of lesser account might return to their own homes.
Indeed, it was the Earl's great desire that peace should be restored to the troubled kingdom, and that the ravages of the recent campaign should be forgotten.
Jack came bursting into the tent where Leofric lay, his face alight with excitement.
"Hast heard the news? The Earl has made a proclamation throughout the camp ordering all the clerks and students of Oxford to return to their studies. As a token that he means what he says, his own son is to head a party of returning students. Amalric has said that he will take me in his train, and has sent me to see if thou canst likewise travel. On the morrow Lord Henry sets out along the coast in charge of his cousin, the Prince, who is to be taken for security to Dover Castle. Lord Amalric desires to travel a part of the way with them, and then turn northward and pass through London, which is said to be full of rejoicing and triumph. They say the Earl and the King will go thither in company shortly. I trow it will be a gallant spectacle, and I would be there to see. Hugh will go with us, and Gilbert likewise, and others who have followed the fortunes of the Earl's son. Prithee, say that thou wilt also be of our party!"
Leofric eagerly declared himself quite fit for the saddle. None of his wounds was severe, as he had said; and he was much restored by those few days of rest in the hospital tent. He would greatly have regretted the necessity to remain behind when his comrades moved onwards, and he at once left his bed and proceeded to array himself, and to walk forth leaning on Jack's sturdy arm.
The camp was in all the commotion of breaking up. Numbers of men had already been dismissed to their own homes. Hugh came up to his friends with a beaming face.
"Right glad shall I be to see Oxford again!" he said, "and to resume the peaceful life of study there. Battles and camps are well enough in their way, and against a foreign foe would I serve most willingly. But it is ill work drawing the sword upon a brother Englishman. Let me rather meet him in disputation and strife of well-sharpened argument, than in the bloody field of battle!"
Leofric heartily agreed with this sentiment, and even Jack, who had perhaps enjoyed the excitements of the campaign more than the others, admitted that he would be glad enough to see Oxford again, and resume his studies there.
"It was the King's doing that ever we left at first," he said. "I trow his Majesty has had good cause to wish that he had left the clerks of Oxford to their books and studies. He has had reason to know that they can wield other things than the pen, when the blood in them is stirred up."
The comrades visited their horses and looked well to them. A few days of rest and feeding upon the green plains of Sussex had done them much good, and they looked well able to carry their owners gallantly upon the proposed journey.
"We shall be too large a company to push on very fast," said Hugh. "Moreover there will be interruptions in the march from our friendly well-wishers, who will desire to show us honour as we go. And if thou canst not ride with the party, Leofric, why, thou and I will tarry behind, and send Jack forward to see all, and tell us what has betided when we meet in Oxford again."
Leofric, however, expressed a hope of being able to ride the whole way; and upon the morrow a gallant-looking company started forth eastward along the coast.
Prince Edward and his cousin, Henry de Montfort, were the two most noteworthy figures, the Prince being by far the more majestic and dignified, although Lord Henry had an ample dower of good looks and a corresponding amount of self-esteem. He and his brother Simon were already giving their father anxiety by symptoms of that rashness and pride which had a disastrous effect upon the fortunes of their house a little later on; but in private life they were amiable and warm-hearted, and towards their cousin Edward the whole family of the Earl felt a great affection. The young men had been comrades and playfellows in childhood and youth, and the fact that they had met in hostile fight but a few days earlier did not seriously interfere with amicable relations when brought face to face once more.
Nevertheless it was Amalric who was really the greater favourite of the Prince, and his face lighted brightly when he saw that he was to be of their company. Guy and Amalric were far more lovable in disposition than Henry and Simon, their elder brothers, and Edward greeted his younger cousin with affection and pleasure.
"So thou art on thy way back to Oxford? Would that I were going with thee! If I am to be kept in durance awhile, why not as well there as in another place? Had not Providence thought well to make a Prince of me, I would verily be a clerk of Oxford. Tell me some of thy student tales as we ride along, good cousin. I would hear of that great riot which disturbed the peace of the town just after I had been asked to keep away. I trow you clerks and students have other pastimes than the study of your books!"
The Prince laughed heartily at the tale told him of the obsequies of the shattered gates, and of the attack on the property of the hapless Mayor.
"So that is how you clerks learn to handle your weapons so well! I trow your Chancellor must have as hard a task in ruling his city as a monarch in ruling his kingdom."
And then the Prince suddenly grew grave, and fell into thought, perhaps revolving in his mind the events of his father's reign, and the incapacity he had shown in ruling his people in lawful fashion. He sat looking straight out before him with set lips and sombre eyes, and none dared speak to him again till the mid-day halt was called.
Then he roused himself, and was gracious and friendly of aspect to all. He recognized both Leofric and Hugh, and spoke to them both. Hugh had been with him in his band, and had fought lustily and well. He had won the approval of the martial Prince on more than one occasion since he had been with him, and now he greeted him with a smile.
"So thou art going to exchange sword for pen, and the strife of arms for the war of words? Well, I trust thy studies will not again be broken up by warlike clamour; and yet if it should so betide, I would that I might find myself surrounded by such trusty followers as thou hast proved thyself to be."
"My liege lord," said Hugh, slightly bending the knee, for he desired to show even more reverence to a captive Prince than he might have done to one having his liberty, "I trust that if such a day should ever come again, thou wilt find my poor sword again beneath thy banner. The Prince has but to command, and the soldier must obey."
Edward gave him a slight smile of gratitude and approval, and turned his keen glance towards Leofric.
"Ah, my friend of the boar-hunt! said I not that we should meet again some day? So thou hast been in the fight, and hast gotten some wounds? Well, well, it is but the hap of war. I know that thou canst strike a lusty blow when the fighting mood is on thee."
Leofric bent the knee, but made no answer. He loved the Prince, and found it hard to realize that they had fought in hostile camps. Edward asked no question; but Leofric knew he must be aware of this, and something like remorse filled his heart. War which pitted brother against brother, and subject against Prince, seemed to him a horrible thing, abhorrent in essence both to God and to man. The disease that was eating into the heart of the country might need the remedy of the knife; nevertheless the application of it was painful and terrible, and at that moment Leofric was keenly conscious of it.
Perhaps Edward guessed at the thoughts which were passing through his mind, for his own face softened slightly in expression as he said, —
"Think not that I reproach thee, good youth; I tell thee of a truth that were I in thy place, methinks I should act as thou hast done. These hideous things must needs be for the sake of the realm. But pray Heaven there be brighter and happier days in store for England yet. Leofric Wyvill, I once did promise thee the reward of thy lusty stroke which perchance saved the life of thy Prince. Not yet has come the day for the redemption of that promise. What can a captive Prince do for the recompense of those who have served him? But my word is passed, and I shall not forget. The time may come when I shall redeem that pledge. Till then I have naught but thanks to offer."
Then he passed upon his way into the interior of the inn, and Leofric turned upon Hugh with something almost like bitterness in his voice, as he said, —
"Why, why does such a son league himself to the crooked policy of such a father?"
Hugh slightly shook his head.
"It is no love for the policy, believe me; it is filial duty towards his sire. How could a son take up arms against his father, without incurring the wrath of God? Or how can a son of the spirit of young Edward stand aloof whilst the sword is drawn against his father and his King? No, no, he can do nothing else than fight for him; but thou canst see for thyself how he feels in his heart. He hates the methods and the crooked ways of the King. Once let him sit upon the throne, and we shall see a different rule indeed."
Leofric was not destined to travel far with the cavalcade which escorted the Prince. That very night he was attacked by an access of fever, brought on probably by riding too soon; and he had perforce to remain behind when the troop started forth the next morning.
Hugh remained with him of his own accord, bidding Jack go on with the others, and bring them all the news when they met in Oxford. Hugh found his broken arm rather stiff and painful, and was not sorry to be spared the long days of riding; whilst his heart was turning ever more and more impatiently towards Oxford, where Linda would be waiting for them, and whither they would travel by easy stages so soon as Leofric was fit for the saddle.
They were detained a week at this place before they attempted to resume their journey, and then they travelled very leisurely. They found the country full of rejoicing at the termination of the war and the success of the people's party, as they liked to call it. Rumour declared that there was to be a Parliament in London almost at once, and that, besides the nobles and knights, "four discreet men" from some of the leading towns were to be summoned to attend. This was a distinct step in the direction of constitutional government, and the policy of the great Earl was warmly commended on all sides. Little feeling at present existed with regard to the captive condition of the King. The nation began openly to say that he was always the slave and captive of his own favourites. It was better he should be in the hands of those who cared for the liberties and rights of the English people than in the hands of those who sucked the blood of the nation and reviled its down-trodden sons at the same time.
Everywhere the name of Earl Simon was in all men's mouths. His praises were chanted aloud in rude songs, in which he was described as the saviour of his country, the instrument of God, the upholder of right and justice, the wisest, most valiant, and noblest of men.
Leofric began to wonder whether, indeed, the country would settle down contentedly to what was practically the reign of a subject, and that subject by birth an alien. For the moment they seemed to desire nothing better than that De Montfort should reign in the name of the King; but was it possible that such an anomaly could long continue? And what would be the result of the release of the King? for it was not possible that he should remain a permanent captive in the hands of his Barons.
These, and many like points, were discussed with keen interest by Leofric and Hugh as they pursued their leisurely journey. Hugh had a few stout serving-men in attendance on him, afterwards to make their way northward to his father's house. So the two youths travelled in comfort and safety, and were welcomed everywhere along the route as having been eye-witnesses of and partakers in the battle of Lewes.
But as they neared the familiar town of Oxford, public matters sank into a secondary place in the interest of the anticipated meeting with comrades and friends. Leofric's heart could not but beat with the thought of seeing Alys once more – although to him she was as a bright particular star, far, far above him, whom he loved and worshipped from a distance, with no conscious sense of anything nearer and more personal; whilst Hugh was engrossed by thoughts of Linda, from whom he had been long sundered, although, knowing her to be safe and happy, he had left her with a mind at ease.
Had their approach been seen? Surely it must have been; for as they approached the Castle by the Quaking Bridge, there was a little commotion at the gate, and in another minute Edmund came hastily forth, bare-headed, as if taken by surprise, his face alight with eager welcome.
"Now welcome, welcome, good friends! We have been wearying for news of ye twain. Many of our clerks and students have been flocking back from all parts of the country, some even from the field of Lewes; but none could give us tidings of you. One indeed declared that thou, Leofric, hadst been sorely wounded; but whether for life or death the fellow could not say. Come in, come in, and tell all thy tale. – Come in, good comrade Hugh; right glad are we to see thy face again! Peace and good-will everywhere abound. Oxford has begun to look like herself again. Come in and see my father. We have much to hear and to tell. Come and give us news of young Lord Amalric, for our Alys has been like a drooping flower ever since he departed; albeit, as I kept telling her, we should speedily have heard had any hurt happened to one of the sons of the great De Montfort."
Thus speaking, Edmund led the way into the Castle hall, where already the Constable, his wife and daughter, and Linda had gathered. Rumour had already gone forth that some arrival had taken place, and Sir Humphrey had a warm greeting for the two young student-soldiers returned with news from the campaign.
But Hugh had no eyes for any save Linda. He could not speak or think of anything in the happiness of that meeting. It was Leofric who was forced to be spokesman, and he was set down in the midst to tell his tale; whilst Alys, from behind her mother's chair, hung upon his words with kindling eyes, flushing and paling cheeks, scarce drawing breath as he spoke of the perils of the fight, and how he had been brought out of it by trusty Jack. She did not look like a drooping flower any longer as at the supper board she took her accustomed place, Leofric being at her right hand. Father and mother both noted the sudden change in her; and Sir Humphrey said to his wife that night, —
"See what the news of Lord Amalric has done for her! She is a changed being since we have known him to be well and sound."
But Dame Margaret uttered a slight snorting sound, as if she were less satisfied with what she had observed.
"If my Lord Amalric desires the hand of our daughter, he had best lose no more time in the winning of it," she remarked. "Else may he chance to win the casket when the jewel it encloses has been stolen thence."
"What mean you, wife?" asked Sir Humphrey in dismay.
Dame Margaret snorted again.
"Men have no eyes!" she remarked scornfully.
"But what mean you, wife? I would know more of this."
"Marry, then thou shalt. But I say not things are so; I only say what I fear. If the maid's heart be not rather given to Leofric Wyvill, the bachelor, than to the Lord Amalric, the Earl's son, then are mine eyes wofully at fault!"
Sir Humphrey looked first astonished and then scornful.
"Tush, woman!" he said impatiently; "the thing is impossible."
Dame Margaret pursed her lips and said nothing.
"It must not be!" cried the Constable, rather excitedly; "it must not and shall not be! The Earl is now the first man in all the realm. His sons will rise to be nobles themselves. It will be a great match for our little daughter, and she hath always been well disposed towards Lord Amalric."
"True; yet is she not better disposed towards another?"
"It shall not be!" cried the Constable once more. "I will put a stop to it at once. A daughter's hand is disposed of by her father. None shall dispute my right to give that of Alys where I will. The Lord Amalric has shown every disposition to ask it in marriage. And this I say and mean: if he ask it, he shall have it. The maid shall be a great lady yet, and I pray I may live to see the day."
The mother said nothing, only pursed up her lips a little. In her heart she was thinking that a sudden elevation to great power had often been followed by as sudden a fall. What if that should happen to the house of De Montfort?
