Everett-Green Evelyn
A Clerk of Oxford, and His Adventures in the Barons' War
CHAPTER IX
A STUDENTS' HOLIDAY
"Wilt thou come to see the joustings in Beaumont meadows to-morrow, fair Mistress Alys?"
Alys raised her eyes from her frame, and saw that Amalric had entered the room with his eager, elastic step. The young De Montfort was no stranger to that upper chamber now. Indeed, scarce a day passed but he found his way thither, to tell the news of the city in the eager ears of Edmund, or to look into the eyes of the fair Alys, and listen whilst she played upon the lute.
A great friendship had sprung up between these three, and the fact that Amalric had entered as a scholar at St. George's College in the Castle gave them the more chance of frequent meetings. Sir Humphrey and his wife were glad that Edmund should be enlivened by the visits of a friend, and in his heart of hearts the Constable was devoted to the cause of the Barons, although his position obliged him to maintain an air of neutrality when political questions were discussed.
A great change had recently come over the lives of brother and sister. Instead of passing their days alone in this upper room, seeing hardly any faces but those of their parents from one week's end to another, they now enjoyed a variety of diversions. A master of Arts came twice in the week to instruct Edmund in some of that lore he was so eager to make his own, and upon three other days in the week the young clerk Leofric Wyvill made his appearance, to read with the invalid, and to assist him with such preparation for his tutor as it was possible to make in those days. Alys shared these readings with her brother, and was almost as keenly interested as he. She almost neglected her tapestry frame now for a more congenial task, but her mother still looked for the daily portion, and she would return to it and work hard again, whilst Leofric retailed to them such things as he had heard from those various masters whose lectures he sedulously attended.
He was sitting beside Edmund's couch now, drawing mathematical figures and working out the problems attached, when Amalric's voice broke in upon them, and for the moment thoughts of study were thrown aside.
"They say it will be a brave show," continued young De Montfort: "North and South will meet together and tilt and hold joustings. They say the Welsh have joined the Northerners, and that they will challenge those of the South to meet them in mock combat. They have chosen St. Bartholomew's Day, and all men say it will be a goodly sight. – Art thou to be there, fair mistress?"
"I know not," answered Alys; "methinks my father little likes these students' holidays. He says there is too often more of purpose than of jest in their joustings. I trow he will judge that I am better safe at home."
Leofric looked up with parted lips, as though about to speak; and Edmund observing him, said, —
"Is that thine opinion also, Leofric?"
"Perchance it is not for me to speak, seeing that I have but little knowledge to go upon. Yet I have a feeling that to-morrow will not pass without trouble. I have heard ill-whispers in the air. I have a fear that one whom I love right well may be in danger on that day."
This was interesting, and all looked eagerly at Leofric.
"Tell us all," said Edmund quickly; "it may be that we can help thee."
"I speak of one whom you all know," answered Leofric, – "Hugh le Barbier, who has shown me great kindness since I came hither a poor, raw lad – "
"Hugh le Barbier! why, I know him well," cried Amalric. "What hast thou to say of him? If peril threatens, sure we can protect him! Tell us what is in thy mind."
"He has an enemy," answered Leofric, "one Roger de Horn – "
At that name Edmund interrupted in his turn.
"I have heard my father speak of him. He is a turbulent fellow who has often disturbed the peace of the town, and but for the benefit of clergy, which he claims, would have met with some severe chastisement. What is his cause of quarrel with honest Hugh, our friend?"
"In sooth I think it is about a maid," answered Leofric. "There be two fair sisters – daughters of the host where both Hugh and Roger dwell. Methinks I have told of them before. It is their faces I have drawn in my idle hours – the two sisters so alike that few may tell them apart. From what I can learn, methinks that Hugh and Roger both love the same maid, and that she returns the affection of Hugh, as any maiden would. Why Roger cannot please himself with the other, who is her very counterpart to look at, I cannot tell," continued Leofric, who knew nothing of the mysteries of love, and was puzzled to know how even Hugh had come to give such deep affection to one sister, whilst showing a calm indifference to the other; "but it seems that they have both set their fancy upon the same. And it is whispered that Roger has vowed vengeance upon his rival, and that he may seize upon his chance of doing him a mischief to-morrow."
"That must be stopped," said Edmund quickly; "I will speak to my father."
But Leofric slightly shook his head.
"I fear me that would do no good. Hugh will certainly not be withheld from joining in the joustings. He is to tilt, with Linda's snood of crimson ribbon fastened to his head-piece. If Roger be his antagonist in the lists, none can well interpose. These joustings are held to be the right of all clerks and citizens upon a holiday. To seek to stop them now would but stir up a riot in the place which might be worse than any mock battle in the fields."
"Then we must be there to see that our friend Hugh comes to no unfair mischief at the hands of his rival," said Amalric quickly. "Which side doth Hugh take – North or South? He is a dweller in the middle parts of the country, and might choose either."
"We have agreed to throw in our lot with the South," answered Leofric, "and Roger is of the fierce Northerners. Some men say that at the last there will be a grand mock battle, in which all men will join. For myself, I would sooner it came not to such a pass. I fear me there might be less of mock fighting than true were it so."
Alys looked a little alarmed at the thought, and Amalric exclaimed, —
"Surely the Chancellor and Proctors, and the Constable your father, could contrive to keep men from falling upon each other in such savage fashion?"
Edmund slightly shook his head.
"I am not sure. Strange things happen in Oxford every year. It is not many years since there was such a riot betwixt some Irish clerks and some of the Northerners as made the Chancellor take oaths of the students to keep the peace for the future. But new men pour in every year, and oaths are forgotten all too quickly. I would that I could come abroad to-morrow and see the tilting. I should not take it amiss if there were to be some collision betwixt party and party. I sicken of this life between high walls. I long to see life once more."
"And so thou shalt!" cried Amalric eagerly; "I have my horses here, and I will borrow a litter from somewhere, and will take thee and Mistress Alys to the jousting-field. There shalt thou see all that goes on, and thy father shall give thee a few trusty fellows for a guard; so that if there be any rioting, thou and Mistress Alys can be brought safely back in haste, by Barbican Lane. The rioters will give the Castle a wide berth, we may be sure; the tide of battle – if battle there be – will all set the other way."
Alys clapped her little hands together; Edmund's eyes lighted with anticipation. To escape from his prison, to go abroad in the streets, was the great ambition of his life. But it was seldom that he had achieved this end, and the thought of sharing in the gaieties of the morrow was enchanting alike to him and to his sister.
Sir Humphrey was willing to fall in with the plan suggested. He had a great liking for Amalric, and perhaps had already formed an idea that the youth was attracted by his young daughter. Both youth and maiden were still full young, but at least there was no harm in permitting them some pleasant intercourse if they were disposed to like one another. The Earl of Leicester was at this juncture perhaps the greatest man in the kingdom, and an alliance with the noble house might prove of great advantage to the knight in his career. His wife had suggested this notion to him, and he had listened not unwillingly. In those days men regarded their daughters somewhat in the light of chattels, to be disposed of as best promoted the advancement of their own interests; and the fact that Sir Humphrey was a tender father, and that Alys was the light of his eyes, did not detract from the pleasure of the thought that she might make a grand match, when a few years had passed over her head, with the scion of a house as likely to thrive and increase in power and glory as that of Simon de Montfort.
Upon the next day, therefore, he forwarded all the arrangements suggested by Amalric, furnished a guard to his son and daughter, and putting them under the care of young De Montfort, permitted them to sally forth into the town to see the gay pageantry of a students' holiday.
The sun shone brightly to-day – the clouds had all rolled away. The town had assumed a holiday appearance, and from every door a motley multitude poured forth. Church bells rang; at every corner were to be met processions of clerks and scholars, many of whom had just achieved some scholastic success, and were in consequence crowned with wreaths of flowers; whilst their friends and supporters danced around them similarly adorned, some disguised with masks, others in grotesque garments like mummers – all alike bent on amusement, and all with their faces set towards Beaumont meadows, in which the jousts and games and tiltings were to be held.
Conspicuous amongst the gay throng in holiday attire (for the citizens with their wives and daughters were pouring out to see the fun) was a small group of what some took to be mummers – tall figures dressed all in black, with masks upon their faces and weapons in their belts. There were some six of these in all, and they glided hither and thither amongst the shifting throng, unknown and silent, people making way for them as they moved, as if half afraid of their strange appearance.
Alys and Edmund caught sight of them more than once, and eagerly asked Amalric who and what they were; but he could give them no reply, and soon they ceased to think of them in the entertainment of watching the gay shifting throng.
A good position for seeing the jousting was fixed upon by the men in charge of the Constable's children, and Edmund's litter was drawn up upon a knoll under a clump of trees, which gave a pleasant shade from the sun's rays; whilst the horse, tethered close at hand, could feed upon the grass.
"I should like to see some of the people we have been told about," said Alys, as she stood beside her brother's couch. – "Prithee, good Leofric, bring to us here thy friends Hugh and Gilbert and Jack, and those two twin sisters Lotta and Linda, and any others of whom thou hast spoken. I would be friends with all the world to-day. Go seek them and bring them hither, and at noon we will feast here together under the greenwood trees, and watch the merry joustings at our ease."
Alys was in unwontedly gay spirits that day, and Leofric hurried off to do her behests. It was easy to persuade his comrades to accept the invitation of the Constable's daughter, and she on her side had a pretty way of putting people at their ease in her company.
The twin sisters interested her greatly, but she did not think them quite so wonderfully alike as she had expected. One of them was pale and pensive, and had an anxious look in her soft eyes; whilst the other was radiant and flushed, talking and laughing gaily with all who approached, and throwing towards Hugh le Barbier glances of such witchery and fascination that Alys at first thought she must be the lady of his choice.
All seemed to be gaiety and good-humour during the early hours of the day. Games of all sorts, trials of skill and strength, wrestling, archery, and quoits were entered into with great zest. The jousting was to take place after the mid-day meal, and at present the horsemen were comparatively few; but these few rode hither and thither, and carried off the ring from the pole with considerable skill. Alys watched everything, and enjoyed herself mightily, making herself a very graceful and gracious hostess to her invited guests.
As the meal proceeded she found herself able to speak a few words to the pensive twin, whom she now knew to be Linda, the maiden whom Leofric had said that Hugh loved. Hugh had been sitting beside her for some little while, but now he had gone off with Gilbert to look to their horses for the tilting, and the shadow had fallen again upon the face of the girl.
"Is aught troubling thee, maiden?" asked Alys, in a gentle tone. "Methinks that thou art pensive where others be gay. Tell me what is in thy heart, and I will seek to comfort thee."
Linda gave a sudden start, and glanced timidly into the face of the younger girl; but what she saw there seemed to inspire her with confidence. She had heard before of the gentle Alys, and felt that she was not quite a stranger.
After a quick glance round to be sure that none else could hear her words, she made reply, —
"In sooth, sweet mistress, I scarce know how to answer; and yet my heart is heavy within me, and I fear I know not what. I have one who is near and dear to me, and I trow he is in danger. Yet how to succour him I know not; for he is brave of heart, and smiles at thought of fear; yet I have known terrible things happen in this strange city, and I fear – I fear!"
"What dost thou fear?" asked Alys, drawing a little closer.
"I fear foul play for him," answered Linda; "I have heard things which make my heart heavy as lead within me. Lady, hast thou seen some strange men in the crowd to-day – men all in black, who look to me like devils moving amongst the merry-makers? Hast thou seen them?"
"Ay, verily have I. Methought they were mummers, but none could tell me of them. Who and what are they?"
"I know hot for a certainty, and yet I fear them. I saw through the mask-hole of one of them a pair of evil, flashing eyes, and methought it was Roger de Horn who thus gazed at me with malice in his heart. I truly think that my brother is another, and there are more whose names thou wouldest not know. But I fear me there are certain wild spirits bound together to do evil, and that the safety of my lover is to-day threatened amongst them."
Alys sat silent, a sympathetic fear creeping over her. What could she say to comfort this trembling maiden?
"But how can these men hurt him? he will be mounted, and they are on foot. Dost think that they will join in the tourney too?"
"Nay; I should fear them less did they do so. Hugh would be more than a match for any of them, skilled as he is in knightly exercises, strong, and full of courage. He could unhorse Roger de Horn at one blow, despite his size and strength; and that does yon coward and braggart well know, wherefore he will not meet him in fair fight. What I fear is an ambushment, in which my lover will be carried off by those wicked men. And if he be thus spirited away, Heaven alone knows what fate may await him: for I am very sure that these confederates have sold themselves to the Evil One, and are masters of unholy crafts that we wot not of; and as all men know, when such seize upon a human victim, they do him to death with their black arts in some fearful fashion, seeking to wrest his soul from him ere they let go their hold upon his body!" and Linda trembled in every limb.
Alys shivered also, for these words sounded mysterious and terrible. She did not understand their import, but none the less did they fill her with horror.
But before another word could be said the sound of trumpet blasts smote upon the ears of the crowd, a great shout rent the welkin, and from opposite sides of the field two gallant parties of mounted revellers rode in – banners flying, lances in rest – and made a complete circuit of the meadow, the crowd flying right and left before them, until the field, lately covered with groups of merry-makers, became cleared for the tiltings of the mounted rivals.
It was a gallant show of student prowess, and for a while all went well; the combatants were fairly well matched, and good-humour prevailed over feelings of emulation and rivalry.
The sun slowly sank in the sky, but the revelry and joustings still went on. The crowd had closed in more and more upon the combatants, and now there was to be one great final charge, all the horsemen taking part in it together – a sort of mock battle before the sun should set.
Edmund was growing rather weary, but was still keenly interested; whilst Amalric, who had declined to join in the jousting, and had remained all the while with brother and sister, gazed very intently at the grouping of the crowd, and in particular at the movements of certain black figures, who seemed to be directing in a rather curious fashion the actions of certain knots of clerks and citizens, who were drawing ever nearer and nearer to the scene of action.
"Methinks, Edmund," he said suddenly, "that thou and Alys had better be turning homewards. The sun will soon be gone, and this is the last of the merry-making. It would be well not to get hemmed in by the crowd as it breaks up. I will call up the men, and we will return," and as he spoke he gave Edmund a look which the latter instantly understood.
Alys would fain have lingered, fascinated by the strange sight presented by the plain, where she could have fancied a real battle was raging. There were such shouting, such clashing of arms, such defiant yells from the combatants, that she almost trembled where she stood; and when she mounted her palfrey, she felt that the creature was trembling also at the unwonted clamour.
Suddenly a girl's voice close at hand broke into a quick wail of horror and fear. Linda, clasping her hands closely together, cried in tones of lament, —
"It has begun! it has begun! They are fighting now. Oh, what will be the end of this?"
"Come, Mistress Alys," spoke Amalric, in tones that unconsciously betrayed anxiety and authority, "we must not linger here. It is too true; they have begun to fight in earnest now."
And so it was. Either the excitement of the moment had been too much for the combatants, or there had been evil influences at work; but whatever the cause, there was no mistaking the result. Yells of execration and defiance, screams of agony from the wounded, threats, menaces, curses, rent the air, and in a moment the scene was changed from one of revelry and sport to one of fury and bloodshed. It was no sight for a maiden's eyes, and Alys was hurried by her attendants through the rough ground of Broken Heys and into the Barbican Lane, where still the shouts of the multitude pursued her, and the din of battle drowned all other sounds.
"Oh, what is happening – what is happening?" she cried, as the party halted at last beneath the gateway. "Oh, do not let Hugh le Barbier fall into the hands of his foes! Cannot some of you rescue him from those wicked men?"
Her words were not altogether understood, but enough had passed upon the subject to cause Amalric to cry, —
"Now that thou art safe, sweet lady, I will ride back and see what I can do to stop this riot, and save our friend if he be in any peril;" and Leofric sprang to his stirrup and said, —
"Let me run with thee, sir, and strike a blow for my friend, if need be. I know not what is purposed against him, but methinks this fight will not fail to be taken advantage of by his enemy."
Leofric could run like a hare, and had no difficulty in keeping pace with Amalric's steed as they once more crossed the broken ground towards the meadow. The light was fading by this time, but the din of battle was louder than ever, and it seemed as though the whole populace of the town had now joined in one indiscriminate mêlée. From within the walls could be heard the clanging of the bells of St. Martin's and St. Mary's – signals that mischief was abroad; and from the gates of the city the Chancellor and his men were already issuing, the Proctors in attendance, to seek to quell this formidable riot, in which at least half the University clerks were involved.
The Constable of the Castle on his side had come forth with a guard, and at sight of these dignitaries bearing down upon them from either side the combatants paused and wavered. Then the men of the North, who were getting the upper hand, made a sudden dash forward, drove their adversaries before them pell-mell through the open gate from which the Chancellor had lately issued, hewed down numbers of them in their rush, and made for their own Halls and lodgings, barricading themselves into these and hurling defiance at the promoters of law and order, and flinging stones and other offensive missiles at any who sought to dislodge them.
The fight was practically over, the victory, if such it could be called, remaining with the Northern section, who had certainly inflicted much damage upon their adversaries, whilst meeting with many reprisals themselves. Quite a dozen clerks had been killed or mortally wounded, whilst minor injuries had been inflicted upon more victims than could be numbered that night.
Amalric and Leofric, joined later on by Jack (whose head had been broken by a quarter-staff) and by Gilbert (who had received a few bruises and contusions), hunted all over the place for some trace of Hugh. His horse they found grazing quietly in one corner, which excited some alarm for the safety of the rider; but Gilbert declared he had seen Hugh ride safely out of the melée when it began to turn into a battle, and that he had called out to him to go home quietly before worse happened. He himself rode off towards the Bocardo gate, and Gilbert lost sight of him in the confusion; but he never guessed that harm had come to him till he found he had not been heard of at the inn, and he started off again in search of him.
From dusk till moonrise did his friends seek for him, exploring every corner of the field and the streets, and asking all whom they knew if they had seen him. Hugh was well known and popular in Oxford, and even the Chancellor and the Proctors gave a passing assistance in the search; but at length the party had to pause and look at each other in blank dismay.
"He has been spirited away!" said Amalric, beneath his breath.
"This is the doing of Roger de Horn," quoth Jack, between his shut teeth.
