CHAPTER XXI.
_KING AND STUDENTS._
Oxford was all in a ferment. The ordinary life of the University wassuspended. Lecture-rooms were deserted alike by masters and scholars,and these were to be seen standing in knots about the streets, talking,gesticulating, arguing--excitement written on every face, and generallywrath and scorn as well. In other quarters clerks were to be seenissuing forth from their lodgings with their worldly goods strapped upontheir backs, calling out farewells to their friends, and marching awaytowards the city gates, generally in parties of six or eight, andsinging songs in praise of De Montfort or in despite of the King, butbetraying beneath their jauntiness of outward mien an inward secretwrath.
The citizens, too, looked anxious and perturbed, and there was aprevailing unrest throughout the town. The wealthier scholars might beseen talking earnestly together, looking to their arms andaccoutrements, and comparing notes as to their horses. It was plain thatsomething very unusual was afoot, and that, too, of a nature disquietingto all.
In point of fact, the King had sent a decree ordering all the studentsof Oxford to depart to their own homes. The Chancellor had reported tohis Majesty on the subject of the recent riot, and it was supposed by agreat number of the students that this decree was made as a sort ofpunishment for their unruly behaviour. But there was another and morepersonal motive as well.
The King had just summoned a Parliament to Oxford, and it was generallyshrewdly supposed that this Parliament would practically annul thosefamous Provisions of Oxford which had, during the past six years, beenthe war-cry of the Barons' party. Now the temper of the city was knownto be easily aroused, and Oxford was almost unanimous in its support ofthe cause of the Barons. It would be a bold act on the part of the Kingto trust himself within the city walls had he come as the confessed foeof De Montfort--at least if the members of the University were assembledthere in force; so to get rid of them by some plausible expedient was awily and politic move.
"He fears us! he fears us!" was a constantly-heard cry as bands ofclerks took their way out from the city, some in high dudgeon, othersrejoicing in the liberty thus accorded them of openly throwingthemselves into the civil war if it should chance to break out, as allmen knew must quickly be the case.
The young nobles did not for a moment disguise what they were about todo. Many of them had fathers or friends in the opposing ranks, and they,if expelled from Oxford, intended joining them. Most were on theBarons' side, but a few leaned towards Prince Edward. Personally he wasbeloved by many more than hastened to join him; for the unpopularity ofthe King's cause, to which the son was pledged, held back many ayouthful admirer. It was to De Montfort's banner that the warlikespirits of Oxford desired to flock, and Amalric was daily besieged witheager offers from ardent lads to follow him to his father's camp, if hewould only accept their services.
"My father will not fight unless forced to do so," was the reply hereturned to many. "He is not in haste to plunge the land into thehorrors of war. But if the King will persist in his evil ways, and willrefuse all counsel save from those who advise him to the nation's hurt,then must swords be drawn, though not till all else has been tried."
And in fact, as the King drew near to Oxford, the Barons sentrepresentatives to Brackley, with powers to seek for a reconciliationand agreement before recourse was had to extreme measures.
Within the Castle was great excitement as the days passed by. TheConstable, by virtue of his office, must needs stand aloof from any openexpression of loyalty towards the enemies of the King; and theChancellor observed an attitude of grave neutrality. And yet it was wellknown that both these functionaries had the cause of the people atheart, and that they were beloved of De Montfort and loved him well.
Alys was working a beautiful banner for Amalric; and many were thevisits he paid to the upper chamber where she and Linda were to be foundplying their skilful needles. Linda's heart was ofttimes rather heavywithin her just now; for Hugh had left Oxford immediately after theKings decree had become known, and she believed that he had departedhome, intending, with his father's approval, to join Prince Edward inWales, or wherever he might have now marched. In times of peril, such asseemed approaching, it was hard to lose sight of a loved one, notknowing when or how the next meeting might be. Sometimes Linda's tearswould fall as she worked, and Alys would say gently,--
"Do not grieve so, sweet Linda; the war will not last long, and then hewill come back. We shall not love him less--even Lord Amalric saysthat--because he follows with the Prince. If the Prince were the onlyleader in the land, we would all follow him too, and this war would beaverted."
"War is so terrible, so cruel!" Linda replied. "It goes to my heart tothink what may happen when army meets army in the bloody field."
"And yet there is glory in war as well as pain!" cried Alys, with alight in her eyes. "I would think of that were I in thy place, dearLinda."
Linda raised her glance to Alys's face, and asked softly,--
"Thinkest thou that thou wilt be able thus to speak when my Lord Amalricgoes forth to fight?"
"Why not?" asked Alys innocently; and then seeming to divine somethingof her companion's meaning, she added, "The Lord Amalric is a veryproper gentleman, but he is no lover of mine."
"And yet methinks he has no eyes for any but thee, sweet Alys; and hashe not said many times that this banner will be his talisman in times ofdanger and heaviness? Methinks he worships the very ground upon whichthou dost tread."
"Oh no, no," said Alys, with a look of trouble in her eyes. "LordAmalric has been a kind friend to us all, and we all love him. But it isnot so with us--nay, Linda, say, have I ever said or done aught thatmight seem to speak of this?"
"Nay; it is he who has looked this long time at thee as a man looks athis heart's beloved," answered Linda. "And he is such a proper gentlemanand such a gallant spirit that I had thought perchance--"
She did not complete her sentence; but Alys understood, and shook herhead. Her cheek glowed, and there was a light in her eyes which lookedstrangely like that of love. Linda's needle went in and out rapidly, andshe bent her head over her task; but bending towards her companion, sheasked in a low whisper,--
"Dearest, tell me, is it Leofric?"
Alys started, and the crimson flooded her face. She made no reply, onlybending lower over her frame, so that even Linda could not see herexpression. But somehow from that moment a new bond seemed to establishitself between the two girls; and when Linda ventured to ask presently,"But what would thy parents say? He is but a poor clerk, though abachelor and like to become a doctor in time," Alys made low-tonedanswer,--
"I ofttimes think that the lot of the great ones of the earth is farless happy than that of those less lofty in the eyes of the world. Ihave even heard my father say the same, and methinks he would deny menothing that was for my happiness, were his heart but once convinced."
"And truly," added Linda, with a sigh, "these be dangerous and troublousdays in which to live. The victor of to-day may be the vanquished of themorrow. In very sooth, a humbler lot is sweeter than one where the cupof prosperity may be dashed from the lips, and adversity follow swiftlyon the heels of triumph. All who know him love Leofric, and speak wellof him."
Again the cheek of Alys glowed; her voice faltered as she spoke the nextwords,--
"Thou hast read mine heart, sweet Linda, but thou must keep its secretlocked within thine own. I scarce dare to think of it myself, for neverby word or sign has he showed me aught of his heart; and yetmethinks--methinks--"
"Ay, verily, love has a language of its own," said Linda, in sympatheticaccents, "and souls may meet when words there be none. He would not dareto lift his eyes to thee, fair Alys, thinking, perchance, that thou arthalf plighted to my Lord Amalric--as, indeed, others think. Yet, shouldtime pass and he become learned and famous, and shouldst thou remainunwed--ah, well, methinks he will find his tongue; and thy father willnot say him nay when he knows how thine heart inclines."
Alys list
ened to these welcome words with glowing eyes and blushingcheeks. Never before had she dared, even to herself, so openly to admithow her childish friendship for Leofric Wyvill was ripening intosomething deeper and more earnest. Of late she had seen less of him, buthe still came and went at the Castle, and was the friend of all. He wasthought to be a youth of great promise; and in those days almost any manof learning, however humble his birth, who rose to academic distinction,might hope to win his way to affluence and influence before his beardwas grey. There would be no presumption a few years hence in a RegentMaster or young Doctor aspiring to the hand of a knight's daughter. Theonly bar likely to arise would be that imposed by the Church, were thestudent to desire orders; but Leofric had never showed a leaning towardsthe religious life, and was the less likely to think of it now--unless,indeed, he believed Alys lost to him as the affianced bride of Amalric,and entered upon the career of an ecclesiastic as a salve for a woundedspirit.
This danger did suggest itself for a moment to Linda, and she resolvedto watch earnestly the turn of affairs. The conversation at that momentwas interrupted by the entrance of Edmund and Leofric into the roomwhere the girls were sitting. Alys bent over her frame to hide hermomentary confusion, but it passed unobserved in the excitement of themoment.
"The King is on his way thither!" cried Edmund; "he is to enter the cityto-morrow. The students are pouring out as though the plague werethreatening. In a few hours' time, they say, there will be scarce threehundred left, and perhaps not so many. The townsfolks are all agape anddisturbed; for many there be of the clerks who vow they will neverreturn, but will set up their abode in Cambridge or Northampton, andestablish a rival University there. The masters have followed theirscholars, as is but wise; and the citizens are crying out that the Kinghas ruined the town. It is but a sorry welcome he will have on themorrow when he makes his entry here."
"Methinks his Majesty will repent him of his mistake," said Alys. "Whydid he drive forth the clerks? My father could surely have kept order inthe city."
"Marry, he was afraid," answered Edmund; "and indeed he had some cause,for in his mandate to my father he speaks of his own lords who willattend him as being 'so untamed and fierce' that he dare not trust themso near to an army of turbulent clerks, famous for their unrulyconduct."
Alys's lips curved to a smile of some contempt.
"Methinks our monarch is but a poor poltroon," she said. "Small wonderif the realm sink beneath his sway."
"Nevertheless he is about to do a bolder thing than any King hasattempted since the days of the Saxons," answered Edmund, laughing; "forhe declares that his first action will be, on entering Oxford, to pay avisit to the shrine of St. Frideswyde!"
"And wherefore should he not?" asked both girls in a breath; whereuponLeofric was called upon to tell the legend of St. Frideswyde--how shehad taken the vow of chastity, but was pestered without ceasing by theKing of Mercia, who desired her hand in marriage. She fled from him toOxford, where he pursued her, laying siege to the town; but in answer toher prayers he was struck with blindness, and returned to his owncountry, leaving her in peace to found her nunnery and devote herself tothe religious life. But since that date no King had ever ventured tointrude himself even to lay offerings upon her shrine, and theresolution of Henry the Third to brave the anger of the virgin saint wasregarded as a proof of piety and courage, since he openly declared thathe could not believe any ill would be suffered to follow an act ofhomage to one whom he revered and desired to honour.
Upon the morrow the city was bedecked with banners and costly cloths,and the Constable, together with the Chancellor and all men ofimportance in the city, went forth to meet the King and his nobles, tobid them welcome to the city, and to conduct them to the church of St.Frideswyde. Here a procession of Canons, with the Abbot at their head,would be waiting to receive the monarch, and to conduct him to theshrine, where miracles were still said to be worked.
Alys and Linda rode forth with the company from the Castle to see thesight, and Edmund, with Leofric and one or two other comrades, formedtheir body-guard. It was strange to see the streets of Oxford so emptyof their crowds of eager students, who, upon an occasion like this,would naturally have been thronging out with songs and garlands, readyalike for a riot or a reception. But although there were still somescholars who had given no heed to the King's arbitrary decree, they hadno intention of showing him any honour, and remained within their ownquarters, save a few who, like Edmund and Leofric, had some cause to goforth in one of the processions.
Amalric, of course, would in no case have been one to offer personalreverence to the monarch. He was not, however, in Oxford at the moment,having left to gain news as to the attempt at negotiation which wasstill to be made, and quite a band of clerks who had arms and horses hadaccompanied him, eager beyond measure for the coming fray, and, if thetruth were to be told, by no means anxious that peace should be restoredbefore the appeal to arms had been made.
"I scarce know the city," said Alys to Leofric, as they rode through thestreets, in which the citizens were grouped about, but which were sostrangely bereft of their crowds of gowned scholars. "Methinks hisMajesty will repent him when he sees what his decree hath done. Andmethinks he would repent him still more did he know how manystout-hearted soldiers he has dismissed to join his foes. I trow that ifthe rival armies meet face to face, there will be many an Oxford clerkin the ranks who will deal deadly blows to the King's cherished troops."
Leofric was of the same opinion. He had had some ado in restraining Jackfrom joining himself to one of the bands sallying forth in search ofadventure and warlike pastime. Leofric was of opinion that sooner orlater the rupture would come, and they would have to range themselvesbeside their champion, and perhaps strike a blow in defence of theircause; but he had no desire to anticipate this moment, and still hopedthat some good might come of the impending negotiations, although thehaughty bearing of King Henry's knights and nobles as they rode intoOxford went far to quench this lingering hope.
The King was haughty in his bearing towards both Constable andChancellor, whom he knew to be friends of De Montfort. He chided themsomewhat roundly in face of all his company for the recent riot, andeven threw out a hint of displacing them from office if this sort ofthing went on.
He was more gracious in his bearing towards the municipal authorities,but was still very much the triumphant monarch, visiting a turbulentcity which had once caused him trouble, but where he meant for thefuture to be very much the master.
His demeanour did not inspire either respect or confidence in the heartsof those who saw him, and only when he approached the precincts of St.Frideswyde's shrine did he begin to comport himself differently.
When, however, he ceased to have men of the world to deal with, andfound himself confronted by those ecclesiastics who had always been thesupporters of the royal and papal power, he became another creaturealtogether. He dismounted from his horse, begged the blessing of thePrior, made costly gifts to the Priory, and finally presented himself atthe shrine itself, prostrating himself with every token of outwardreverence, and placing there his offerings, which were on a lavish andprincely scale.
Only a few of his own followers accompanied him into the church, and theprocession which had ridden forth to meet him did not attempt to enterso much as the precincts. It was plain to all that the King had come inno conciliatory mood, but that, puffed up by the award of France, he nowintended to rule the realm with a rod of iron, and to listen to neitherremonstrance nor condition.
"Pray Heaven the saint may send him a vision that shall change hisheart," spoke some one from the crowd, "else the sword will beunsheathed ere many weeks have passed!"
Alys's eyes sought the face of Leofric, and she asked,--
"Does the saint in truth ever send warnings and visions to those whoworship at her shrine?"
Leofric looked doubtful; he was not very clear as to the capacities ofthe saints in this respect.
"In truth, fair lady, I know not. It se
ems to me that visions andwonders are seldom vouchsafed to those who are puffed up with pride andself-esteem. It is the poor and humble in spirit to whom the Lordreveals His mind--so at least Father Angelus teaches. Yet they say thatmiracles are worked at the shrine, and I heard that the son of one ofthe burgesses of the city was raised from the dead not so very longsince by being brought hither and laid before the shrine, whilst themonks offered prayers for him. He had died beneath the knife of thesurgeons, they say, who had worked upon him some hoped-for cure, whichhad caused instead his death; but he was restored, they say, by thevirgin saint. Would that she could restore to his Majesty thatwillingness of spirit towards our noble Earl which in times past he hathbeen known to show!"
But the saint seemed to have no message or warning for the King. Noimmediate hurt, however, followed upon his bold act in presentinghimself at her shrine. He retired thence puffed up with pride andvainglory, reversed in his assembled Parliament every previous Provisionof Oxford, and scornfully dismissed the representatives of the Baronswho came to suggest a compromise.
"I will be King, and rule by mine own power!" was the motto he seemednow to have adopted. Men shook their heads and looked gravely at oneanother, echoing the words Brother Angelus had been heard to speak,--
"Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall."