CHAPTER III.
THE EARL AND THE ESQUIRE.
When Lady Maud Neville arose from her knees at the altar rail there wasa beautiful light upon her noble face. Her long, white hair had fallenaround her shoulders, but for some reason she seemed to have grownyounger.
"I will give him to the king!" she loudly exclaimed. "I have prayed thatmy son may be as was his father, a knight without a stain. But here Imay not tarry. It were better I made ready for a journey even ere Isleep, for when Richard returneth there will be haste. There is muchthat I would not leave behind. I will load no wain with goods, but thepack beasts will bear full panniers."
She walked out of the chapel and her serving men and maidens met her,eager to do her bidding. After that there were chambers and storeroomsto visit and coffers to open and packs to bind, for she was not illsupplied with the garments that were suited to her rank, and above allthere were small caskets of dark wood that were not opened. It was saidthat there were gems and jewels in Wartmont, and the saying may havereached the ears of such as Clod the Club to bring him thither. If so,well was it that he and his would never come again.
Ever and anon, however, as the good lady passed a window, she wouldpause and look out toward the forest, as if in that direction theremight be some one that she longed to see.
Day waned and the night came on, and all preparations appeared to becompleted, for again she visited the chapel before retiring to herchamber. Long since had the great gate been closed, and the portcullislowered and the bridge over the moat drawn in. Now, at last, the curfewbell sounded from the tower and the lights in castle and village wentout, save one bronze lamp that still burned in that corner of the keepto which the lady herself had retreated.
It was a large room and lofty, with twain of narrow windows that were asif for archers to ply their arrows through them rather than for lightingthe space within. The floor was strewn with dry rushes for luxury, andthe garnishing was such as became the mistress of Wartmont. Heavilycarved, of oak, were the tables and the high-backed chairs and thesettles. The mirror over the chest of drawers must have come from Veniceitself. There were curtains at the windows and around the high-postbedstead which might have been woven in Flanders or Normandy, for nonesuch could be made in England. The walls were wainscoted to the heightof a man's shoulder, but there were no tapestries to tell of greatwealth. It was as if in this place of retirement had been preserved allthat remained of the broken prosperity of this branch of the great houseof Neville.
The lady slept not, nor even looked at the bed, but sank into a greatcushioned chair and seemed to be lost in thought.
No words escaped her lips although much time went by. There was no handto turn the hourglass on the bureau near her, nor could she have knownat what hour she was startled to her feet.
Loud rang the summoning sound of a clarion at the great gate, and louderwas the sudden answer of the alarum bell in the tower. She was at awindow ere she knew, and she heard a shouting:
"Open, O ye of Wartmont! In the king's name! It is John Beauchamp, Earlof Warwick. Is our lord the prince within?"
"Open will we right gladly," sent back the warder at the gate. "But theprince and my Lord of Maunay rode on to Warwick in the morn."
"Saints preserve them!" uttered another voice. "But we must needs comein. Bid the Lady Maud rest. I will trouble her not until day."
"My noble kinsman!" she exclaimed, turning quickly from her window. "Iwill make haste to greet him. Well is it that I am robed. I will meethim speedily in the hall."
Even so she did, and the minutes were few before she stood face to facewith a tall man of noble presence, in full armor save the helmet he haddoffed on entering. He seemed in full vigor of life, but gray-headed, asbecame a statesman upon whom the king might lean.
Questions and answers followed fast, and all the while the Wartmontretainers were busily providing for the hundred horsemen who had riddenin the train of the earl. Of them were knights and nobles also, and someof these now stood near the lady and the earl. Strong was their speech,as was his, concerning the rashness which the prince had shown in ridingacross England with so small a company.
"Knoweth he not," said one, "that there is treason in the land?"
"Silence on that head, Geoffrey of Harcourt," responded the earl. "Butwe may trust he is safe in Warwick. Had we taken another highway wemight have met him. But, madame, this is fine news of my young kinsman.Well for him that he hath won the favor of the prince and of that raregood lance, De Maunay. More than well is it also that he hath salliedforth promptly to gather his archery. It will please the king. Betterbowmen are not than he will bring from Arden. Now, Lady Maud, hie theeto thy rest, and so will we all, for we are weary."
The remaining words were few, and once more the castle grew still, savefor the stamping of restless horses in the courtyard and the busychatter of the warders of Wartmont with the guard set by the earl.
Now there was another place in which all was quiet, only that on a heapof rushes and a spread garment lay a youth who slept not, but turned attimes uneasily.
"I fear no treachery," he muttered, but not in Saxon. "I think these betrue men. Yet I will leave my sword bare and my axe by it lest perilcome. Who would have looked for a hold like this among these woods?"
Then his thoughts went back to that which he had seen on coming in. Hehad passed the moat and the portal with Guy the Bow, and through a shortpassage. Then he had entered a vast hall, in the middle of which blazeda fire, the smoke whereof escaped at a hole in the peak of the roof. Atone end of this hall was a broad dais, two steps higher than the floorof beaten earth, and here had been spread a table for his refection.Kindly, indeed, and full of reverence for his rank and name, had beenthe words and manners of all who served, for none presumed to eat withhim. No other man was there of gentle blood, and even Guy the Bow wouldhave been angered had any trespassed upon his young captain. That wasRichard, now, by the command of the prince himself, and the forestmenall honored the king, Saxons though they were. None were permitted toquestion, overmuch, although Guy himself went out to dispense whatevernews was in his own keeping.
Refreshed, even with a tankard of ale that was brought him, Richardarose at last, and followed Ben of Coventry to the sleeping placeallotted him. None better was in the grange. If at any past day therehad been more costly furniture, some hand had taken it away, and naughtwas left now but safe quarters for such men as Richard had seen.
It was but day dawning when a hunter's horn sounded a clear note at thedoor of the rude chamber.
"Hail, my Lord of Wartmont!" spoke Guy the Bow. "I pray thee hasten. Thymen will be ready for thee within the hour. They all have come, and theyare eager to hear thee."
"On the moment!" shouted Richard. "I am ready. Tell them I come."
"God speed thee this day," said Guy. "Full many a good fellow is readyto free himself from peril of the sheriff of Warwickshire. Aye, and todraw the king's good pay and have chance for pillaging French towns.They like it well."
Great indeed was the astonishment of Richard when, after hurriedlybreaking his fast in the great hall, he walked out with Guy and otherslike him to view the gathering in the open space beyond the palisades.
Women and children, score on score, kept at a little distance, but notbeyond hearing. In the middle, however, were clustered fully a hundredbrawny men, eager to hear the king's proclamation of free pardon andenlistment for the war in France. They all knew what it was to be fromother tongues, but to them the young lord of Wartmont was the king'smessenger, and there was no certainty in their minds until he hadspoken.
Without too many words, but plainly and well, did he announce hismessage, and they answered him with loud shouting. To some of them itwas as a promise of life from certain death, for the law was in searchof them, and the judges of that day were pitiless concerning forestryand the protection of the king's deer and the earl's.
Short ceremony was needed, for man after man came forward to kneel andput his hands
between those of Richard, in the old Saxon custom ofswearing to be his men in camp and field, in fight and foray, in theinland and the outland, until the king's will should give them grace tocome home again.
Born warriors were they all, and they laughed with glee in the hope offighting the French under so good a leader as was Edward of England.Good captain, good success, they knew; and as for Richard, had they notknown the knight, his father, and had not he himself slain the Club ofDevon in single-handed combat? They were proud to serve under a Neville,and a man of their Saxon blood, who could order them in their owntongue.
"One hundred and one!" shouted Guy at last. "May I not bid them tohorse, Lord Richard? Every man can have his own galloway, or another,that the road to the camp at Warwick may be shortened."
"Mount!" shouted Richard. His own gallant steed had been led to his sideand in a moment more he was in the saddle.
John, Earl of Warwick, was also early upon his feet, for he was a manwhose life had been spent much in camps, and he was wont to be out andusing his eyes as a captain before breaking his fast. From the men ofWartmont he speedily learned all relating to the raid of the Club ofDevon and the brave fight made in front of the castle. Of this also henoted the defects, and he roundly declared that he would soon givecommand and provide means for its repair.
"We may need it again some day," he said to himself. "There may bestormy times to come. May God prevent strife at home, but there beoverproud hearts and over-cunning heads in this good land of ours. Iwill see to it that Wartmont shall be made stronger than ever. Glad am Ithat Sir Edward Neville hath left so brave a son to stand for ourhouse."
Many and bitter were the jealousies of the high-hearted barons ofEngland, and none could tell the days to come. Who should prophesy howlong the reigning house might keep the throne, or between what claimantsof the crown might be the next struggle, if, for example, King Edward orhis son, or both of them, and their next of kin, should go down inbattle or should die suddenly in their beds, as others of royal bloodhad died? The head of a great baronial house might well bethink himselfof every advantage or possible peril.
"But for the poverty the war bringeth," he said, "I would have buildershere within the week. As it is, I will have a garrison, and the gooddame herself must bide at Warwick while her son is with the army inFrance. 'Twere shame to leave her here alone."
So said he to Lady Maud when they met in the castle, and she told himthen how well prepared she was for a departure. Already was she aware ofhis reason for coming so far to meet the prince; but his anxiety was atan end, and he was willing to linger and make full his soldierlyinspection of the castle.
"Good fort," he said, "and well was it held against Earl Mortimer. Gladam I that thy son hath so good control of the forest men. They are asclannish as are the Scotch, and they will come to their own chief whenthey will bide no other."
He understood them, but he was yet taken by surprise before the noon.
"Horsemen!" he exclaimed, standing in the gateway. "Rightly did I saythere was imprudence in the small company of the prince. Yonder is atroop--yea, twain of them."
No lances were visible, but at the head of the foremost troop rode onewho carried on a high staff a blue banneret, and the earl knew not asyet what its blazonry might be.
Truth to tell, it was nothing but an old flag of Sir Edward Neville'swhich had been stowed away in the crypts of the grange. Not all of thesehad been inspected by Richard, but he had seen a good smithy whereingalloways were shod, and spearheads and arrowheads and knife blades werehammered and tempered. Not only arrowsmiths were there among the forestmen, but good bowyers, that they might not depend for their weapons uponany but themselves. Weaving, too, was done among the women and byskilled websters of the men; but shoemakers or cordwainers they hadnone, and but rough potters and smelters. So dwelt they as best theymight, with cattle and sheep and swine, and the black cattle of thewoods and the king's deer for their maintenance. They were not at anytime in peril of starvation, for excellent also were the fishes in thepools and streams, and there was no end of skilled brewing of ale.
Four and four abreast rode on the mounted archers who had sworn to cometo the king with Richard of Wartmont, and they came on right orderly.Well looked he also, in full armor, at their head.
"'Tis Richard, my lord the earl!" called out to him Lady Maud as theyrode nearer. "'Tis my brave son and his men! Believest thou now that hecan call the men of the woods? My boy! God bless him!"
"That say I!" loudly responded the earl, striding across themoat-bridge. "Ho, all! Get ready for the way. My lady, I pray thee to goin and lade thy pack beasts. We will even march for Warwick ere the dayis an hour older."
Loud and hearty was his cousinly greeting to his young kinsman. Strongwas his approval of the force he had enlisted, but he added:
"What shall we do with all these beasts? The king will have his archerson their own feet."
"That is provided for," replied Richard. "I pray thee trust me that thewhole drove can go back to Arden, under good driving, as soon as thereis no more need for them. I deemed it well to come quickly. Such wasthe word given me by Sir Walter de Maunay."
"Thou didst well to heed him," said the earl; but then he talked littlemore with Richard.
He bade the men dismount and get their noonday meal in the village andin the castle; but he had speech with many of them, for he was wellpleased that such a company should come to the royal standard from amonghis own retaining.
Lady Maud had waited, but not all patiently, for her own greeting to herson. It was a joy to both of them that they were to go on to Warwicktogether, but most of all that a better day seemed to be dawning forthem, and that the ruin wrought by the bad Earl Mortimer might beamended.
Not many men had been left behind in the hidden hold amid the forest,and such as had not marched with Richard had long since dispersed. Somehad ridden gayly away on their stout ponies; others had gone to thefields. Some were in the smithy, the tannery, and the other workshops,and a few had restlessly snatched bows and arrows to hurry out into thewoods as hunters.
No guards were set, except that a pair of bowmen lingered on the fartherside of the causeway over the morass. There was little peril ofintrusion now that the Lancashire Welsh thieves had been sorely smitten.Whatever might remain of them would not return to be shot down.
As for the secret character of the grange itself, there was smallwonder that a few hundred acres, if so much there might be, of patchesof farm land should be sheltered among those woods from any but such menas had been Sir Edward Neville. It might all be within the somewhatdoubtful borders of his own manorial grant, given to his ancestors bythe earlier kings and confirmed by Edward the First, to be lost underhis son, the second Edward, and Earl Mortimer, and to be regained underEdward the Third and the house of Beauchamp.
It was said, indeed, that there were regions tenfold as wide, in some ofthe remoter baronies, whereof men knew but little, especially among theScottish border counties and among the hills. Besides these were theunsearched fen districts on the coasts, the wild mountain parts ofWales, and worst of all were the highlands of Scotland and the seagirtisles of the Scottish coasts. As for Ireland, even the greater part ofit was almost an unknown land to Englishmen, for nothing less than anarmy might venture inland too far with any hope of ever coming backagain.
In the several parts of the grange itself, as in the cottages scatteredbeyond it, the women plied their tasks. Some of them spun with distaffs,and two or three looms were busy; more might have been but for the lackof wool. There was much raising of sheep in the more thickly settledparts of England in those days, but there was small room for them inArden. Moreover, they, more than cattle or horses or swine, were sorelythinned by the wolves. It was a hundred and fifty years later that thesefierce beasts disappeared from England, and the last of them in Scotlandwas slain yet a century later. So was it that so little cloth, even ofhomespun, was worn by the bowmen who rode behind Richard of Wartmont, inthe gloom of that
evening when he followed the Earl and his men-at-armsthrough the gate of Warwick town.
Long had been the journey, hard pushed and weary were beasts and men.There was small ceremony of arrival or reception for the greater part ofthe cavalcade, but the Lady Maud was conducted at once to the care ofthe Countess Eleanor of Warwick, her younger sister, the wife of theearl.
As for Richard, his men were cared for well, under direction of SirGeoffrey de Harcourt, while their young captain was bidden to hastenwith his great kinsman to meet once more the Prince of Wales and SirWalter de Maunay.
This greeting, too, was brief, for the hour was late; but the princesaid graciously:
"O thou of Wartmont, I will make thee my comrade in arms! In the morn Iwould fain see thy men. My father himself bade me gather as many deerstealers as I might, for, quoth he, the hand that can send a gray gooseshaft to strike a stag at a hundred yards may fairly bring down aFrenchman at half that distance. Give me bowmen enough of the rightsort, and I will train them to face anything that Philip of France canmuster."
"O my Lord the Prince," replied Richard, "I have a hundred with me, ofwhom any man can send an arrow through a coat of mail at fifty yards. Ilike the king's notion right well."
"Go, now," said the prince; "go with thy kinsman, the earl. On themorrow I will tell thee what to do with _thy_ men."
But these, for their part, were all of a merry heart that night. Notoften had any of them visited Warwick, at least in later years, fortherein was a jail, and they liked not so much as to look thereon, beingin danger of being put within it. They had good quarters and good fare,with much ale, and they knew they were to see brave sights next day, andto have a word from even the Black Prince himself. Was not that enoughof cheer for men of the woods who had seldom been out beyond the shadowsof the oaks of Arden?
The stout earl and his nephew walked together from the presence of theprince toward the chamber allotted to Richard.
"Thou shalt be to me as a son!" exclaimed the earl, in the dim corridorthrough which they were pacing. "Thou hast won the prince. Now, if thouwilt go and win thy spurs with him, thy fortune is made. Thou wilt havebroader lands than Wartmont, but wert thou even to win much gold, I bidthee bide by thine own keep and hold to thee thy Saxon men. If thou wiltdo so, I can foresee the day when thou canst bring five hundred bowmento the standard of thy house."
"I can bring but four more men-at-arms now," said Richard ruefully.
"And thy archers?" laughed the earl. "Didst thou not hear GeoffreyHarcourt say to Northampton, that if all the great barons of Englandwould do as well as thou hast done, the array of the king would begathered right speedily? Too many are afraid to leave their own domainslightly guarded, and, truth to tell, not a few are carrying slenderpurses. The drainings of these long wars have made us poor. I am myselfin the hands of the Jews and the London Lombards for more debts than Ican see how to pay. So is the king, and he is troubled in mind as to howhe shall feed and pay his armies. Go to thy couch and arise right early.Beware that thou never keep the prince waiting. He is like his royalfather, and he who would fail of meeting the king hath gone near tomaking him a sworn enemy. His temper is dangerous. See that thou arousehim not at any time. His hand is hard upon men, and so will any troopsof his be disciplined as were never English troops since William won theisland."
If that were to prove true, it might be one of the reasons why the kingso firmly believed that he could bring the men so disciplined face toface with greater numbers of the disorderly levies of his rival, theKing of France.
The stern counsel of the wise earl was hardly needed, so far asRichard's early rising was concerned, but he was up not any too soon inthe morn. Nor was he any too mindful of his duty as a soldier of theking. He arose and put on his armor and walked out of his chamber, andbefore him stood an archer.
"The commands of the earl," he said bluntly. "Eat not, but hasten to thymen. They break their fast even now. Have thou them in line rightspeedily. I will be thy guide to their quarters."
"I obey the earl," said Richard, following.
It was not far to go, beyond the castle gate, and Richard turned for amoment to gaze back upon towers and battlemented walls which hadresisted so many a stout assailing.
"They are held for the king now," he thought, "but they once were heldagainst him, and oft against other kings. In yonder dungeon keep hathmore than one proud earl been brought to the block, and men say that init, even now, are prisoners of note that may never again see the day."
Dark and high and threatening was the aspect of the great keep ofWarwick Castle, and there might be terrible secrets of state in itsunderground chambers.
He turned again to follow the archer, but when he came to the quartersof his troop, he found that the commands of the earl were there beforehim. The forest men were used to be up with the dawn, and it had been nosurprise to them to find their tables ready spread. Also, they liked thefare, and they were in good heart when they came out to greet theiryoung captain. They cheered him loudly; but a new thought flashed intohis mind.
"Soldiers? Drilled?" he said to himself. "I see what the earl means.They all can shoot well, but they can neither form line nor movetogether, nor do they know the words of command. The prince--is he herethus early?"
Here he came, the heir of the crown of England and of the English claimto the crown of France. He was in his plain black armor, with his visorraised, but on his face was no smile of youthful familiarity--rather,something of the hard look that distinguished his father and that mademen fear him; and the hardness was in his voice as well, when he shoutedswift orders to Richard.
Low had been his obeisance, but he had a bitter feeling in his heart,for he knew not how to form his men. All he could do was to turn to themand shout:
"Follow!"
"By fours! Spears in line!" added Guy the Bow, and more words in Saxonbade them hold their shields in front and step together.
Less shame felt Richard when he saw how well they came on, and the lipsof the prince relaxed somewhat.
"Not a rabble," he muttered. "They will train well. I never saw new menmove thus. The Neville doeth better than I thought. I will speak to theearl."
Other knights were with him, gallantly mounted all, and behind him theyrode out to the broad common of Warwick, for there was to be a morningreview of the earl's retainers and of levies which had arrived.
Never before had Richard seen together three thousand armed men, horseand foot, and greatly delighted by so rare a show were his woodsmen. Inlarge part these forces had already been well trained by the officers ofEarl Warwick, and the prince himself ordered them through manymovements, such as might be needed upon a field of battle.
A rare man was Guy the Bow, for he and Ben of Coventry had been trainedin their time, and they had instructed their comrades at the grange indays gone by, and the rest on the way as they came. So was it that whenRichard of Wartmont led his two fifties hither and thither, he and theywere a further surprise to the prince and to his captains and nobleknights. They fell not into any confusion at any point, and again it wassaid of them, "No rabble," and "The Wartmont doeth well for a beginner."
After that, archery butts were set up and squads from several companieswere picked, by lot only, and ordered to show their skill.
Right good was the shooting, as might have been expected, for there wereprizes as well as praises to be won; but at the noon, when all was over,it was found that every best shot, save one, on all the butts had beenmade by the slayers of the king's deer in Arden.
"O thou of Wartmont," laughed Sir Walter de Maunay, "I think thou wertwise in asking so many pardons! Thy merry men are in good practice."
So laughed the prince, but there had been counseling that day and he nowsummoned Richard to himself. With him were the Earl of Warwick and fourother earls, and Richard felt sorely abashed before he was spoken to.
"What sayest thou, John Beauchamp of Warwick?" he heard the princedemand. "What wouldst thou with the levies?"
/> "My Lord the Prince," responded the earl, "even as seems to me to havebeen said by the king. We must hear from Scotland. The king crosseth notthe channel before winter. Neither will he keep too many thousands, atgreat cost and loss, in the Portsmouth camp."
"What then?" asked the prince.
"As for my nephew's men," said the earl, "they are too few--gathered ina day. Instead of one hundred, he will bring twain or more. Keep thesefor a week, and send them to recruit their fellows. Thou knowest thepower of the Neville name among them. Send Richard to York."
"Good counsel!" exclaimed the prince. "Richard of Wartmont, select theea dozen of thy trustiest men on thy best galloways. Be thou with themtwo hours hence, at the castle gate. Thou shalt be the king's postbearer to his Grace the Archbishop of York, and to the barons of thenorth counties."
Richard bowed low, flushing with pride and joy, for the spirit of traveland of adventure swelled high within him.
"Thanks to thee, O my Prince!" was all that he could say, and he wentback among his men.