Waverley Novels — Volume 12
CHAPTER THE NINETEENTH.
_Hotspur_. I cannot choose; sometimes he angers me With telling me of the moldwarp and the ant, Of the dreamer Merlin, and his prophecies; And of a dragon and a finless fish, A clipt-wing'd griffin and a moulten raven, A couching lion, and a ramping cat. And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff, As puts me from my faith. KING HENRY IV.
The conversation between the minstrel and the ancient archer naturallypursued a train somewhat resembling that of Hotspur and Glendower, inwhich Gilbert Greenleaf by degrees took a larger share than wasapparently consistent with his habits and education: but the truth wasthat as he exerted himself to recall the recognisances of militarychieftains, their war-cries, emblems, and other types by which theydistinguished themselves in battle, and might undoubtedly be indicatedin prophetic rhymes, he began to experience the pleasure which most menentertain when they find themselves unexpectedly possessed of a facultywhich the moment calls upon them to employ, and renders them importantin the possession of. The minstrel's sound good sense was certainlysomewhat surprised at the inconsistencies sometimes displayed by hiscompanion, as he was carried off by the willingness to make show of hisnewly-discovered faculty on the one hand, and, on the other, to call tomind the prejudices which he had nourished during his whole lifeagainst minstrels, who, with the train of legends and fables, were themore likely to be false, as being generally derived from the "NorthCountrie."
As they strolled from one glade of the forest to another, the minstrelbegan to be surprised at the number of Scottish votaries whom they met,and who seemed to be hastening to the church, and, as it appeared bythe boughs which they carried, to assist in the ceremony of the day. Toeach of these the archer put a question respecting the existence of aplace called Bloody Sykes, and where it was to be found--but all seemedeither to be ignorant on the subject, or desirous of evading it, forwhich they found some pretext in the jolly archer's manner ofinterrogation, which savoured a good deal of the genial breakfast. Thegeneral answer was, that they knew no such place, or had other mattersto attend to upon the morn of a holy-tide than answering frivolousquestions. At last, when, in one or two; instances, the answer of theScottish almost approached to sullenness, the minstrel remarked it,observing that there was ever some mischief on foot when the people ofthis country could not find a civil answer to their betters, which isusually so ready among them, and that they appeared to be making astrong muster for the service of Palm Sunday.
"You will doubtless, Sir Archer," continued the minstrel, "make yourreport to your knight accordingly; for I promise you, that if you donot, I myself, whose lady's freedom is also concerned, will feel it myduty to place before Sir John de Walton the circumstances which make meentertain suspicion of this extraordinary confluence of Scottish men,and the surliness which has replaced their wonted courtesy of manners."
"Tush, Sir Minstrel," replied the archer, displeased at Bertram'sinterference, "believe me, that armies have ere now depended on myreport to the general, which has always been perspicuous and clear,according to the duties of war. Your walk, my worthy friend, has beenin a separate department, such as affairs of peace, old songs,prophecies, and the like, in which it is far from my thoughts tocontend with you; but credit me, it will be most for the reputation, ofboth, that we do not attempt to interfere with what concerns eachother."
"It is far from my wish to do so," replied the minstrel; "but I would.wish that a speedy return should be made to the castle, in order to askSir John de Walton's opinion of that which we have but just seen."
"To this," replied Greenleaf, "there can be no objection; but, wouldyou seek the governor at the hour which now is, you will find him mostreadily by going to the church of Douglas, to which he regularly wendson occasions such as the present, with the principal part of hisofficers, to ensure, by his presence, that no tumult arise (of whichthere is no little dread) between the English and the Scottish. Let ustherefore hold to our original intention of attending the service ofthe day, and we shall rid ourselves of these entangled woods, and gainthe shortest road to the church of Douglas."
"Let us go, then, with all despatch," said the minstrel; "and with thegreater haste, that it appears to me that something has passed on thisvery spot this morning, which argues that the Christian peace due tothe day has not been inviolably observed. What mean these drops ofblood?" alluding to those which had flowed from the wounds ofTurnbull--"Wherefore is the earth impressed with these deep tints, thefootsteps of armed men advancing and retreating, doubtless, accordingto the chances of a fierce and heady conflict?"
"By Our Lady," returned Greenleaf, "I must own that thou seest clear.What were my eyes made of when they permitted thee to be the firstdiscoverer of these signs of conflict? Here are feathers of a blueplume, which I ought to remember, seeing my knight assumed it, or atleast permitted me to place it in his helmet, this morning, in sign ofreturning hope, from the liveliness of its colour. But here it lies,shorn from his head, and, if I may guess, by no friendly hand. Come,friend, to the church--to the church--and thou shalt have my example ofthe manner in which De Walton ought to be supported when in danger."
He led the way through the town of Douglas, entering at the southerngate, and up the very street in which Sir Aymer de Valence had chargedthe Phantom Knight.
We can now say more fully, that the church of Douglas had originallybeen a stately Gothic building, whose towers, arising high above thewalls of the town, bore witness to the grandeur of its originalconstruction. It was now partly ruinous, and the small portion of openspace which was retained for public worship was fitted up in the familyaisle where its deceased lords rested from worldly labours and thestrife of war. From the open ground in the front of the building, theireye could pursue a considerable part of the course of the riverDouglas, which approached the town from the south-west, bordered by aline of hills fantastically diversified in their appearance, and inmany places covered with copsewood, which descended towards the valley,and formed a part of the tangled and intricate woodland by which thetown was surrounded. The river itself, sweeping round the west side ofthe town, and from thence northward, supplied that large inundation orartificial piece of water which we have already mentioned. Several ofthe Scottish people, bearing willow branches, or those of yew, torepresent the palms which were the symbol of the day, seemed wanderingin the churchyard as if to attend the approach of some person ofpeculiar sanctity, or procession, of monks and friars, come to renderthe homage due to the solemnity. At the moment almost that Bertram andhis companion entered the churchyard, the Lady of Berkely, who was inthe act of following Sir John de Walton into the church, after havingwitnessed his conflict with the young Knight of Douglas, caught aglimpse of her faithful minstrel, and instantly determined to regainthe company of that old servant of her house and confidant of herfortunes, and trust to the chance afterwards of being rejoined by SirJohn de Walton, with a sufficient party to provide for her safety,which she in no respect doubted it would be his care to collect. Shedarted away accordingly from the path in which she was advancing, andreached the place where Bertram, with his new acquaintance Greenleaf,were making some enquiries of the soldiers of the English garrison,whom the service of the day had brought there.
Lady Augusta Berkely, in the meantime, had an opportunity to sayprivately to her faithful attendant and guide, "Take no notice of me,friend Bertram, but take heed, if possible, that we be not againseparated from each other." Having given him this hint, she observedthat it was adopted by the minstrel, and that he presently afterwardslooked round and set his eye upon her, as, muffled in her pilgrim'scloak, she slowly withdrew to another part of the cemetery, and seemedto halt, until, detaching himself from Greenleaf, he should find anopportunity of joining her.
Nothing, in truth, could have more sensibly affected the faithfulminstrel than the singular mode of communication which acquainted himthat his mistress was safe, and at liberty to choose her own motions,and, as he migh
t hope, disposed to extricate herself from the dangerswhich surrounded her in Scotland, by an immediate retreat to her owncountry and domain. He would gladly have approached and joined her, butshe took an opportunity by a sign to caution him against doing so,while at the same time he remained somewhat apprehensive of theconsequences of bringing her under the notice of his new friend,Greenleaf, who might perhaps think it proper to busy himself so as togain some favour with the knight who was at the head of the garrison.Meantime the old archer continued his conversation with Bertram, whilethe minstrel, like many other men similarly situated, heartily wishedthat his well-meaning companion had been a hundred fathoms underground, so his evanishment had given him license to join his mistress;but all he had in his power was to approach her as near as he could,without creating any suspicion.
"I would pray you, worthy minstrel," said Greenleaf, after lookingcarefully round, "that we may prosecute together the theme which wewere agitating before we came hither; is it not your opinion, that theScottish natives have fixed this very morning for some of thosedangerous attempts which they have repeatedly made, and which are socarefully guarded against by the governors placed in this district ofDouglas by our good King Edward, our rightful sovereign?"
"I cannot see," replied the minstrel, "on what grounds you found suchan apprehension, or what you see here in the churchyard different fromthat you talked of as we approached it, when you held me rather inscorn, for giving way to some suspicions of the same kind."
"Do you not see," added the archer, "the numbers of men, with strangefaces, and in various disguisements, who are thronging about theseancient ruins, which are usually so solitary? Yonder, for example, sitsa boy who seems to shun observation, and whose dress, I will be sworn,has never been shaped in Scotland."
"And if he is an English pilgrim," replied the minstrel, observing thatthe archer pointed towards the Lady of Berkely, "he surely affords lessmatter of suspicion."
"I know not that," said old Greenleaf, "but I think it will bo my dutyto inform Sir John de Walton, if I can reach him, that there are manypersons here, who in outward appearance neither belong to the garrison,nor to this part of the country.'"
"Consider," said Bertram, "before you harass with accusation a pooryoung man, and subject him to the consequences which must necessarilyattend upon suspicions of this nature, how many circumstances callforth men peculiarly to devotion at this period. Not only is this thetime of the triumphal entrance of the founder of the Christian religioninto Jerusalem, but the day itself is called Dominica Confitentium, orthe Sunday of Confessors, and the palm-tree, or the box and yew, whichare used as its substitutes, and which are distributed to the priests,are burnt solemnly to ashes, and those ashes distributed among thepious, by the priests, upon the Ash-Wednesday of the succeeding year,all which rites and ceremonies in our country, are observed, by orderof the Christian Church; nor ought you, gentle archer, nor can youwithout a crime, persecute those as guilty of designs upon yourgarrison, who can ascribe their presence here to their desire todischarge the duties of the day; and look ye at yon numerous processionapproaching with banner and cross, and, as it appears, consisting ofsome churchman of rank, and his attendants; let us first enquire who heis, and it is probable we shall find in his name and rank sufficientsecurity for the peaceable and orderly behaviour of those whom pietyhas this day assembled at the church of Douglas."
Greenleaf accordingly made the investigation recommended by hiscompanion, and received information that the holy man who headed theprocession, was no other than the diocesan of the district, the Bishopof Glasgow, who had come to give his countenance to the rites withwhich the day was to be sanctified.
The prelate accordingly entered the walls of the dilapidatedchurchyard, preceded by his cross-bearers, and attended by numbers,with boughs of yew and other evergreens, used on the festivity insteadof palms. Among them the holy father showered his blessing, accompaniedby signs of the cross, which were met with devout exclamations by suchof the worshippers as crowded around him:--"To thee, reverend father,we apply for pardon for our offences, which we humbly desire to confessto thee, in order that we may obtain pardon from Heaven."
In this manner the congregation and the dignified clergyman mettogether, exchanging pious greeting, and seemingly intent upon nothingbut the rites of the day. The acclamations of the congregation, mingledwith the deep voice of the officiating priest, dispensing the sacredritual; the whole forming a scene which, conducted with the Catholicskill and ceremonial, was at once imposing and affecting.
The archer, on seeing the zeal with which the people in the churchyard,as well as a number who issued from the church, hastened proudly tosalute the bishop of the diocese, was rather ashamed of the suspicionswhich he had entertained of the sincerity of the good man's purpose incoming hither. Taking advantage of a fit of devotion, not perhaps verycommon with old Greenleaf, who at this moment thrust himself forward toshare in. those spiritual advantages which the prelate was dispensing,Bertram. slipped clear of his English friend, and, gliding to the sideof the Lady Augusta, exchanged, by the pressure of the hand, a mutualcongratulation upon having rejoined company. On a sign by the minstrel,they withdrew to the inside of the church, so as to remain unobservedamidst the crowd, in which they were favoured by the dark shadows ofsome parts of the building.
The body of the church, broken as it was, and hung round with thearmorial trophies of the last Lords of Douglas, furnished rather theappearance of a sacrilegiously desecrated ruin, than the inside of aholy place; yet some care appeared to have been taken to prepare it forthe service of the day. At the lower end hung the great escutcheon ofWilliam Lord of Douglas, who had lately died a prisoner in England;around that escutcheon were placed the smaller shields of his sixteenancestors, and a deep black shadow was diffused by the whole mass,unless where relieved by the glance of the coronets, or the glimmer ofbearings particularly gay in emblazonry. I need not say that in otherrespects the interior of the church was much dismantled, it being thevery same place in which Sir Aymer de Valence held an interview withthe old sexton; and who now, drawing into a separate corner some of thestraggling parties whom he had collected and brought to the church,kept on the alert, and appeared ready for an attack as well at mid-dayas at the witching hour of midnight. This was the more necessary, asthe eye of Sir John de Walton seemed busied in searching from one placeto another, as if unable to find the object he was in quest of, whichthe reader will easily understand to be the Lady Augusta de Berkely, ofwhom he had lost sight in the pressure of the multitude. At the easternpart of the church was fitted up a temporary altar, by the side ofwhich, arrayed in his robes, the Bishop of Glasgow had taken his place,with such priests and attendants as composed his episcopal retinue. Hissuite was neither numerous nor richly attired, nor did his ownappearance present a splendid specimen of the wealth and dignity of theepiscopal order. When he laid down, however, his golden cross, at thestern command of the King of England, that of simple wood, which heassumed instead thereof, did not possess less authority, nor commandless awe among the clergy and people of the diocese.
The various persons, natives of Scotland, now gathered around, seemedto watch his motions, as those of a descended saint, and the Englishwaited in mute astonishment, apprehensive that at some unexpectedsignal an attack would be made upon them, either by the powers of earthor heaven, or perhaps by both in combination. The truth is, that sogreat was the devotion of the Scottish clergy of the higher ranks tothe interests of the party of Bruce, that the English had becomejealous of permitting them to interfere even with those ceremonies ofthe Church which were placed under their proper management, and thencethe presence of the Bishop of Glasgow, officiating at a high festivalin the church of Douglas, was a circumstance of rare occurrence, andnot unattended both with wonder and suspicion. A council of the Church,however, had lately called the distinguished prelates of Scotland tothe discharge of their duty on the festivity of Palm Sunday, andneither English nor Scottish saw the ceremony with indif
ference. Anunwonted silence which prevailed in the church, filled, as it appeared,with persons of different views, hopes, wishes, and expectations,resembled one of those solemn pauses which often take place before astrife of the elements, and are well understood to be the forerunnersof some dreadful concussion of nature. All animals, according to theirvarious nature, express their sense of the approaching tempest; thecattle, the deer, and other inhabitants of the walks of the forest,withdraw to the inmost recesses of their pastures; the sheep crowd intotheir fold; and the dull stupor of universal nature, whether animate orinanimate, presages its speedily awakening into general convulsion anddisturbance, when the lurid lightning shall hiss at command of thediapason of the thunder.
It was thus that, in deep suspense, those who had come to the church inarms, at the summons, of Douglas, awaited and expected every moment asignal to attack, while the soldiers of the English garrison, aware ofthe evil disposition of the natives towards them, were reckoning everymoment when the well-known shouts of "Bows and bills!" should givesignal for a general conflict, and both parties, gazing fiercely uponeach other, seemed to expect the fatal onset.
Notwithstanding the tempest, which appeared every moment ready toburst, the Bishop of Glasgow proceeded with the utmost solemnity toperform the ceremonies proper to the day; he paused from time to timeto survey the throng, as if to calculate whether the turbulent passionsof those around him would be so long kept under as to admit of hisduties being brought to a close in a manner becoming the time and place.
The prelate had just concluded the service, when a person advancedtowards him with a solemn and mournful aspect, and asked if thereverend father could devote a few moments to administer comfort to adying man, who was lying wounded close by.
The churchman signified a ready acquiescence, amidst a stillness which,when he surveyed the lowering brows of one party at least of those whowere in the church, boded no peaceful termination to this fated day.The father motioned to the messenger to show him the way, and proceededon his mission, attended by some of those who were understood to befollowers of the Douglas.
There was something peculiarly striking, if not suspicious, in theinterview which followed. In a subterranean vault was deposited theperson of a large tall man, whose blood flowed copiously through two orthree ghastly wounds, and streamed amongst the trusses of straw onwhich he lay; while his features exhibited a mixture of sternness andferocity, which seemed prompt to kindle into a still more savageexpression.
The reader will probably conjecture that the person in question was noother than Michael Turnbull, who, wounded in the rencounter of themorning, had been left by some of his friends upon the straw, which wasarranged for him by way of couch, to live or die as he best could. Theprelate, on entering the vault, lost no time in calling the attentionof the wounded man to the state of his spiritual affairs, and assistinghim to such comfort as the doctrine of the Church directed should beadministered to departing sinners. The words exchanged between themwere of that grave and severe character which passes between theghostly father and his pupil, when one world is rolling away from theview of the sinner, and another is displaying itself in all itsterrors, and thundering in the ear of the penitent that retributionwhich the deeds done in the flesh must needs prepare him to expect.This is one of the most solemn meetings which can take place betweenearthly beings; and the courageous character of the Jedwood forester,as well as the benevolent and pious expression of the old churchman,considerably enhanced the pathos of the scene.
"Turnbull," said the churchman, "I trust you will believe me when I saythat it grieves my heart to see thee brought to this situation bywounds which it is my duty to tell you, you must consider mortal."
"Is the chase ended, then?" said the Jedwood man with a sigh. "I carenot, good father, for I think I have borne me as becomes a gallantquarry, and that the old forest has lost no credit by me, whether inpursuit, or in bringing to bay; and even in this last matter, methinksthis gay English knight would not have come off with such advantage hadthe ground on which we stood been alike indifferent to both, or had Ibeen aware of his onset; but it will be seen, by any one who takes thetrouble to examine, that poor Michael Turnbull's foot slipped twice inthe _melee_, otherwise it had not been his fate to be lying here in thedead-thraw; [Footnote: Or death agony.] while yonder southron wouldprobably have died like a dog, upon this bloody straw, in his place."
The bishop replied, advising his penitent to turn from vindictivethoughts respecting the death of others, and endeavour to fix hisattention upon his own departure from existence, which seemed shortlyabout to take place.
"Nay," replied the wounded man, "you, father, undoubtedly know bestwhat is fit for me to do; yet methinks it would not be very well withme if I had prolonged to this time of day the task of revising my life,and I am not the man to deny that mine has been a bloody and adesperate one. But you will grant me I never bore malice to a braveenemy for having done me an injury, and show me the man, being aScotchman born, and having a natural love for his own country, who hathnot, in these times, rather preferred a steel cap to a hat and feather,or who hath not been more conversant with drawn blades than withprayer-book; and you yourself know, father, whether, in our proceedingsagainst the English interest, we have not uniformly had the countenanceof the sincere fathers of the Scottish Church, and whether we have notbeen exhorted to take arms and make use of them, for the honour of theKing of Scotland, and the defence of our own rights."
"Undoubtedly," said the prelate, "such have been our exhortationstowards our oppressed countrymen, nor do I now teach you a differentdoctrine; nevertheless, having now blood around me, and a dying manbefore me, I have need to pray that I have not been misled from thetrue path, and thus become the means of misdirecting others. May Heavenforgive me if I have done so, since I have only to plead my sincere andhonest intention in excuse for the erroneous counsel which I may havegiven to you and others touching these wars. I am conscious thatencouraging you so to stain your swords in blood, I have departed insome degree from the character of my profession, which enjoins that weneither shed blood, nor are the occasion of its being shed. May Heavenenable us to obey our duties, and to repent of our errors, especiallysuch as have occasioned the death or distress of our fellow-creatures.And, above all, may this dying Christian become aware of his errors,and repent with sincerity of having done to others that which he wouldnot willingly have suffered at their hand!"
"For that matter," answered Turnbull, "the time has never been when Iwould not exchange a blow with the best man who ever lived; and if Iwas not in constant practice of the sword, it was because I have beenbrought up to the use of the Jedwood-axe, which the English call apartisan, and which makes little difference, I understand, from thesword and poniard."
"The distinction is not great," said the bishop; "but I fear, myfriend, that life taken with what you call a Jedwood-axe, gives you noprivilege over him who commits the same deed, and inflicts the sameinjury, with any other weapon."
"Nay, worthy father," said the penitent, "I must own that the effect ofthe weapons is the same, as far as concerns the man who suffers; but Iwould pray of you information, why a Jedwood man ought not to use, asis the custom of his country, a Jedwood-axe, being, as is implied inthe name, the offensive weapon proper to his country?"
"The crime of murder," said the bishop, "consists not in the weaponwith which the crime is inflicted, but in the pain which the murdererinflicts upon his fellow-creature, and the breach of good order whichhe introduces into heaven's lovely and peaceable creation; and it is byturning your repentance upon this crime that you may fairly expect topropitiate Heaven for your offences, and at the same time to escape theconsequences which are denounced in Holy Writ against those by whomman's blood shall be shed."
"But, good father," said the wounded man, "you know as well as any one,that in this company, and in this very church, there are upon the watchscores of both Scotchmen and Englishmen, who come here not so much todischarge the religious du
ties of the day, as literally to bereave eachother of their lives, and give a new example of the horror of thosefeuds which the two extremities of Britain nourish against each other.What conduct, then, is a poor man like me to hold? Am I not to raisethis hand against the English, which methinks I still can make atolerably efficient one--or am I, for the first time in my life, tohear the war-cry when it is raised, and hold back my sword from theslaughter? Methinks it will be difficult, perhaps altogetherimpossible, for me to do so; but if such is the pleasure of Heaven, andyour advice, most reverend father, unquestionably I must do my best tobe governed by your directions, as of one who has a right and title todirect us in every dilemma, or case, as they term it, of troubledconscience."
"Unquestionably," said the bishop, "it is my duty, as I have alreadysaid, to give no occasion this day for the shedding of blood, or thebreach of peace; and I must charge you, as my penitent, that upon yoursoul's safety, you do not minister any occasion to affray or bloodshed,either by maintaining such in your own person, or inciting others tothe same; for by following a different course of advice, I am certainthat you, as well as myself, would act sinfully and out of character."
"So I will endeavour to think, reverend father," answered the huntsman;"nevertheless, I hope it will be remembered in my favour that I am thefirst person bearing the surname of Turnbull, together with the propername of the Prince of Archangels himself, who has at any time been ableto sustain the affront occasioned by the presence of a southron with adrawn sword, and was not thereby provoked to pluck forth his ownweapon, and to lay about him."
"Take care, my son," returned the Prelate of Glasgow, "and observe,that even now thou art departing from those resolutions which, but afew minutes since, thou didst adopt upon serious and justconsideration; wherefore do not be, O my son! like the sow that haswallowed in the mire, and, having been washed, repeats its act ofpollution, and becomes again yet fouler than it was before."
"Well, reverend father," replied the wounded man, "although it seemsalmost unnatural for Scottishmen and English to meet and part without abuffet, yet I will endeavour most faithfully not to minister anyoccasion of strife, nor, if possible, to snatch at any such occasion asshall be ministered to me."
"In doing so," returned the bishop, "thou wilt best atone for theinjury which thou hast done to the law of Heaven upon former occasions,and thou shalt prevent the causes for strife betwixt thee and thybrethren of the southern land, and shalt eschew the temptation towardsthat blood-guiltiness which is so rife in this our day and generation.And do not think that I am imposing upon thee, by these admonitions, aduty more difficult than it is in thy covenant to bear, as a man and asa Christian. I myself am a man and a Scotchman, and, as such, I feeloffended at the unjust conduct of the English towards our country andsovereign; and thinking as you do yourself, I know what you must sufferwhen you are obliged to submit to national insults, unretaliated andunrevenged. But let us not conceive ourselves the agents of thatretributive vengeance which Heaven has, in a peculiar degree, declaredto be its own attribute. Let us, while we see and feel the injuriesinflicted on our own country, not forget that our own raids,ambuscades, and surprisals, have been at least equally fatal to theEnglish as their attacks and forays have been to us; and, in short, letthe mutual injuries of the crosses of Saint Andrew and of Saint Georgebe no longer considered as hostile to the inhabitants of the oppositedistrict, at least during the festivals of religion; but as they aremutually signs of redemption, let them be, in like manner, intimationsof forbearance and peace on both sides."
"I am contented," answered Turnbull, "to abstain from all offencestowards others, and shall even endeavour to keep myself from resentingthose of others towards me, in the hope of bringing to pass such aquiet and godly state of things as your words, reverend father, induceme to expect." Turning his face to the wall, the Borderer lay in sternexpectation of approaching death, which the bishop left him tocontemplate. The peaceful disposition which the prelate had inspiredinto Michael Turnbull, had in some degree diffused itself among thosepresent, who heard with awe the spiritual admonition to suspend thenational antipathy, and remain in truce and amity with each other.Heaven had, however, decreed that the national quarrel, in which somuch blood had been sacrificed, should that day again be the occasionof deadly strife.
A loud flourish of trumpets, seeming to proceed from beneath the earth,now rung through the church, and roused the attention of the soldiersand worshippers then assembled. Most of those who heard these warlikesounds betook themselves to their weapons, as if they considered ituseless to wait any longer for the signal of conflict. Hoarse voices,rude exclamations, the rattle of swords against their sheaths, or theirclashing against other pieces of armour, gave an awful presage of anonset, which, however, was for a time averted by the exhortations ofthe bishop. A second flourish of trumpets having taken place, the voiceof a herald made proclamation to the following purpose:--
"That whereas there were many noble pursuivants of chivalry presentlyassembled in the Kirk of Douglas, and whereas there existed among themthe usual causes of quarrel and points of debate for their advancementin chivalry, therefore the Scottish knights were ready to fight anynumber of the English who might be agreed, either upon the superiorbeauty of their ladies, or upon the national quarrel in any of itsbranches, or upon whatever point might be at issue between them, whichshould be deemed satisfactory ground of quarrel by both; and theknights who should chance to be worsted in such dispute should renouncethe prosecution thereof, or the bearing arms therein thereafter, withsuch other conditions to ensue upon their defeat as might be agreedupon by a council of the knights present at the Kirk of Douglasaforesaid. But foremost of all, any number of Scottish knights, fromone to twenty, will defend the quarrel which has already drawn blood,touching the freedom of Lady Augusta de Berkely, and the rendition ofDouglas Castle to the owner here present. Wherefore it is required thatthe English knights do intimate their consent that such trial of valourtake place, which, according to the rules of chivalry, they cannotrefuse, without losing utterly the reputation of valour, and incurringthe diminution of such other degree of estimation as a courageouspursuivant of arms would willingly be held in, both by the good knightsof his own country, and those of others."
This unexpected gage of battle realized the worst fears of those whohad looked with suspicion on the extraordinary assemblage this day ofthe dependents of the House of Douglas. After a short pause, thetrumpets again flourished lustily, when the reply of the Englishknights was made in the following terms:--
"That God forbid the rights and privileges of England's knights, andthe beauty of her damsels, should not be asserted by her children, orthat such English knights as were here assembled, should show the leastbackwardness to accept the combat offered, whether grounded upon thesuperior beauty of their ladies, or whether upon the causes of disputebetween the countries, for either or all of which the knights ofEngland here present were willing to do battle in the terms of theindenture aforesaid, while sword and lance shall endure. Saving andexcepting the surrender of the Castle of Douglas, which can be renderedto no one but England's king, or those acting under his orders."