CHAPTER XXII. HOW THE BOWMEN HELD WASSAIL AT THE "ROSE DE GUIENNE."
"Mon Dieu! Alleyne, saw you ever so lovely a face?" cried Ford as theyhurried along together. "So pure, so peaceful, and so beautiful!"
"In sooth, yes. And the hue of the skin the most perfect that ever Isaw. Marked you also how the hair curled round the brow? It was wonderfine."
"Those eyes, too!" cried Ford. "How clear and how tender--simple, andyet so full of thought!"
"If there was a weakness it was in the chin," said Alleyne.
"Nay. I saw none."
"It was well curved, it is true."
"Most daintily so."
"And yet----"
"What then, Alleyne? Wouldst find flaw in the sun?"
"Well, bethink you, Ford, would not more power and expression have beenput into the face by a long and noble beard?"
"Holy Virgin!" cried Ford, "the man is mad. A beard on the face oflittle Tita!"
"Tita! Who spoke of Tita?"
"Who spoke of aught else?"
"It was the picture of St. Remi, man, of which I have been discoursing."
"You are indeed," cried Ford, laughing, "a Goth, Hun, and Vandal, withall the other hard names which the old man called us. How could youthink so much of a smear of pigments, when there was such a picturepainted by the good God himself in the very room with you? But who isthis?"
"If it please you, sirs," said an archer, running across to them,"Aylward and others would be right glad to see you. They are withinhere. He bade me say to you that the Lord Loring will not need yourservice to-night, as he sleeps with the Lord Chandos."
"By my faith!" said Ford, "we do not need a guide to lead us to theirpresence." As he spoke there came a roar of singing from the tavern uponthe right, with shouts of laughter and stamping of feet. Passing undera low door, and down a stone-flagged passage, they found themselves in along narrow hall lit up by a pair of blazing torches, one at either end.Trusses of straw had been thrown down along the walls, and reclining onthem were some twenty or thirty archers, all of the Company, theirsteel caps and jacks thrown off, their tunics open and their great limbssprawling upon the clay floor. At every man's elbow stood his leathernblackjack of beer, while at the further end a hogshead with its endknocked in promised an abundant supply for the future. Behind thehogshead, on a half circle of kegs, boxes, and rude settles, satAylward, John, Black Simon and three or four other leading men of thearchers, together with Goodwin Hawtayne, the master-shipman, who hadleft his yellow cog in the river to have a last rouse with his friendsof the Company. Ford and Alleyne took their seats between Aylward andBlack Simon, without their entrance checking in any degree the hubbubwhich was going on.
"Ale, mes camarades?" cried the bowman, "or shall it be wine? Nay,but ye must have the one or the other. Here, Jacques, thou limb of thedevil, bring a bottrine of the oldest vernage, and see that you do notshake it. Hast heard the news?"
"Nay," cried both the squires.
"That we are to have a brave tourney."
"A tourney?"
"Aye, lads. For the Captal du Buch hath sworn that he will findfive knights from this side of the water who will ride over any fiveEnglishmen who ever threw leg over saddle; and Chandos hath taken up thechallenge, and the prince hath promised a golden vase for the man whocarries himself best, and all the court is in a buzz over it."
"Why should the knights have all the sport?" growled Hordle John. "Couldthey not set up five archers for the honor of Aquitaine and of Gascony?"
"Or five men-at-arms," said Black Simon.
"But who are the English knights?" asked Hawtayne.
"There are three hundred and forty-one in the town," said Aylward, "andI hear that three hundred and forty cartels and defiances have alreadybeen sent in, the only one missing being Sir John Ravensholme, who is inhis bed with the sweating sickness, and cannot set foot to ground."
"I have heard of it from one of the archers of the guard," cried abowman from among the straw; "I hear that the prince wished to break alance, but that Chandos would not hear of it, for the game is likely tobe a rough one."
"Then there is Chandos."
"Nay, the prince would not permit it. He is to be marshal of the lists,with Sir William Felton and the Duc d'Armagnac. The English will be theLord Audley, Sir Thomas Percy, Sir Thomas Wake, Sir William Beauchamp,and our own very good lord and leader."
"Hurrah for him, and God be with him!" cried several. "It is honor todraw string in his service."
"So you may well say," said Aylward. "By my ten finger-bones! if youmarch behind the pennon of the five roses you are like to see all that agood bowman would wish to see. Ha! yes, mes garcons, you laugh, but, bymy hilt! you may not laugh when you find yourselves where he will takeyou, for you can never tell what strange vow he may not have sworn to. Isee that he has a patch over his eye, even as he had at Poictiers. Therewill come bloodshed of that patch, or I am the more mistaken."
"How chanced it at Poictiers, good Master Aylward?" asked one of theyoung archers, leaning upon his elbows, with his eyes fixed respectfullyupon the old bowman's rugged face.
"Aye, Aylward, tell us of it," cried Hordle John.
"Here is to old Samkin Aylward!" shouted several at the further end ofthe room, waving their blackjacks in the air.
"Ask him!" said Aylward modestly, nodding towards Black Simon. "He sawmore than I did. And yet, by the holy nails! there was not very muchthat I did not see either."
"Ah, yes," said Simon, shaking his head, "it was a great day. I neverhope to see such another. There were some fine archers who drew theirlast shaft that day. We shall never see better men, Aylward."
"By my hilt! no. There was little Robby Withstaff, and AndrewSalblaster, and Wat Alspaye, who broke the neck of the German. Mon Dieu!what men they were! Take them how you would, at long butts or short,hoyles, rounds, or rovers, better bowmen never twirled a shaft overtheir thumb-nails."
"But the fight, Aylward, the fight!" cried several impatiently.
"Let me fill my jack first, boys, for it is a thirsty tale. It was atthe first fall of the leaf that the prince set forth, and he passedthrough Auvergne, and Berry, and Anjou, and Touraine. In Auvergne themaids are kind, but the wines are sour. In Berry it is the women thatare sour, but the wines are rich. Anjou, however, is a very goodland for bowmen, for wine and women are all that heart could wish. InTouraine I got nothing save a broken pate, but at Vierzon I had a greatgood fortune, for I had a golden pyx from the minster, for which Iafterwards got nine Genoan janes from the goldsmith in the RueMont Olive. From thence we went to Bourges, where I had a tunic offlame-colored silk and a very fine pair of shoes with tassels of silkand drops of silver."
"From a stall, Aylward?" asked one of the young archers.
"Nay, from a man's feet, lad. I had reason to think that he might notneed them again, seeing that a thirty-inch shaft had feathered in hisback."
"And what then, Aylward?"
"On we went, coz, some six thousand of us, until we came to Issodun, andthere again a very great thing befell."
"A battle, Aylward?"
"Nay, nay; a greater thing than that. There is little to be gained outof a battle, unless one have the fortune to win a ransom. At Issodun Iand three Welshmen came upon a house which all others had passed, andwe had the profit of it to ourselves. For myself, I had a finefeather-bed--a thing which you will not see in a long day's journey inEngland. You have seen it, Alleyne, and you, John. You will bear me outthat it is a noble bed. We put it on a sutler's mule, and bore it afterthe army. It was on my mind that I would lay it by until I came tostart house of mine own, and I have it now in a very safe place nearLyndhurst."
"And what then, master-bowman?" asked Hawtayne. "By St. Christopher! itis indeed a fair and goodly life which you have chosen, for you gatherup the spoil as a Warsash man gathers lobsters, without grace or favorfrom any man."
"You are right, master-shipman," said another of the older archers."It is an old bowyer's red
e that the second feather of a fenny goose isbetter than the pinion of a tame one. Draw on old lad, for I have comebetween you and the clout."
"On we went then," said Aylward, after a long pull at his blackjack."There were some six thousand of us, with the prince and his knights,and the feather-bed upon a sutler's mule in the centre. We made greathavoc in Touraine, until we came into Romorantin, where I chanced upona gold chain and two bracelets of jasper, which were stolen from me thesame day by a black-eyed wench from the Ardennes. Mon Dieu! there aresome folk who have no fear of Domesday in them, and no sign of grace intheir souls, for ever clutching and clawing at another man's chattels."
"But the battle, Aylward, the battle!" cried several, amid a burst oflaughter.
"I come to it, my young war-pups. Well, then, the King of France hadfollowed us with fifty thousand men, and he made great haste to catchus, but when he had us he scarce knew what to do with us, for we wereso drawn up among hedges and vineyards that they could not come nigh us,save by one lane. On both sides were archers, men-at-arms and knightsbehind, and in the centre the baggage, with my feather-bed upon asutler's mule. Three hundred chosen knights came straight for it, and,indeed, they were very brave men, but such a drift of arrows met themthat few came back. Then came the Germans, and they also fought verybravely, so that one or two broke through the archers and came as faras the feather-bed, but all to no purpose. Then out rides our own littlehothead with the patch over his eye, and my Lord Audley with his fourCheshire squires, and a few others of like kidney, and after them wentthe prince and Chandos, and then the whole throng of us, with axe andsword, for we had shot away our arrows. Ma foi! it was a foolish thing,for we came forth from the hedges, and there was naught to guard thebaggage had they ridden round behind us. But all went well with us, andthe king was taken, and little Robby Withstaff and I fell in with a wainwith twelve firkins of wine for the king's own table, and, by my hilt!if you ask me what happened after that, I cannot answer you, nor canlittle Robby Withstaff either."
"And next day?"
"By my faith! we did not tarry long, but we hied back to Bordeaux, wherewe came in safety with the King of France and also the feather-bed. Isold my spoil, mes garcons, for as many gold-pieces as I could hold inmy hufken, and for seven days I lit twelve wax candles upon the altar ofSt. Andrew; for if you forget the blessed when things are well with you,they are very likely to forget you when you have need of them. I have ascore of one hundred and nineteen pounds of wax against the holy Andrew,and, as he was a very just man, I doubt not that I shall have full weighand measure when I have most need of it."
"Tell me, master Aylward," cried a young fresh-faced archer at thefurther end of the room, "what was this great battle about?"
"Why, you jack-fool, what would it be about save who should wear thecrown of France?"
"I thought that mayhap it might be as to who should have thisfeather-bed of thine."
"If I come down to you, Silas, I may lay my belt across your shoulders,"Aylward answered, amid a general shout of laughter. "But it is timeyoung chickens went to roost when they dare cackle against their elders.It is late, Simon."
"Nay, let us have another song."
"Here is Arnold of Sowley will troll as good a stave as any man in theCompany."
"Nay, we have one here who is second to none," said Hawtayne, laying hishand upon big John's shoulder. "I have heard him on the cog with a voicelike the wave upon the shore. I pray you, friend, to give us 'The Bellsof Milton,' or, if you will, 'The Franklin's Maid.'"
Hordle John drew the back of his hand across his mouth, fixed his eyesupon the corner of the ceiling, and bellowed forth, in a voice whichmade the torches flicker, the southland ballad for which he had beenasked:--
The franklin he hath gone to roam, The franklin's maid she bides at home, But she is cold and coy and staid, And who may win the franklin's maid?
There came a knight of high renown In bassinet and ciclatoun; On bended knee full long he prayed, He might not win the franklin's maid.
There came a squire so debonair His dress was rich, his words were fair, He sweetly sang, he deftly played: He could not win the franklin's maid.
There came a mercer wonder-fine With velvet cap and gaberdine; For all his ships, for all his trade He could not buy the franklin's maid.
There came an archer bold and true, With bracer guard and stave of yew; His purse was light, his jerkin frayed; Haro, alas! the franklin's maid!
Oh, some have laughed and some have cried And some have scoured the country-side! But off they ride through wood and glade, The bowman and the franklin's maid.
A roar of delight from his audience, with stamping of feet and beatingof blackjacks against the ground, showed how thoroughly the song wasto their taste, while John modestly retired into a quart pot, which hedrained in four giant gulps. "I sang that ditty in Hordle ale-house ereI ever thought to be an archer myself," quoth he.
"Fill up your stoups!" cried Black Simon, thrusting his own goblet intothe open hogshead in front of him. "Here is a last cup to the WhiteCompany, and every brave boy who walks behind the roses of Loring!"
"To the wood, the flax, and the gander's wing!" said an old gray-headedarcher on the right.
"To a gentle loose, and the King of Spain for a mark at fourteen score!"cried another.
"To a bloody war!" shouted a fourth. "Many to go and few to come!"
"With the most gold to the best steel!" added a fifth.
"And a last cup to the maids of our heart!" cried Aylward. "A steadyhand and a true eye, boys; so let two quarts be a bowman's portion."With shout and jest and snatch of song they streamed from the room, andall was peaceful once more in the "Rose de Guienne."