Forest Days: A Romance of Old Times

CHAPTER XVIII. CHAPTER XVIII. About half an hour after the events had taken place, of which we have spoken in the last chapter, Prince Edward stood in the midst of the chamber already described, habited in a light riding suit, but armed only with his sword. He was gazing, with a look of expectation, at the door, when it opened, and his young companion, Thomas de Clare, entered in haste. "Oh yes, my lord," he said, with a well pleased smile, "he fully confirms the permission; and, indeed, William of Cantelupe, Ingelby, and Thomas de Blundel, with three or four, are already waiting in the court-yard for your coming." "Is my horse prepared, then?" demanded the Prince. "Why, the foolish grooms, my lord," replied the young nobleman, "had brought out the roan, alleging that grey was lean, and not like a Prince's horse, but I bade them saddle him, notwithstanding, saying that I had given him to your Grace, and checking them for not obeying the order they had received. He is, doubtless, caparisoned by this time--but you are pale, my lord; the fever has weakened you! Were it not as well to take a cup of wine before you ride forth?" Edward shook his head. "Not so!" he said; "when I strike my spur into that horse's side, the very thought of freedom shall give me better strength and courage than the best wine that ever France produced. However, let me have your arm; it may be well to seem a little weaker than I am. Do you go with me, De Clare?" "No, my lord," answered his companion, "I am not one of those named; and, to say the truth, I did not seek the honour, for I might but embarrass you, and I must provide for my own safety here." "Are you sure you can?" demanded the Prince. "You must not risk your life for me, De Clare!" "Oh, fear not--fear not!" replied the young nobleman; "give me but one hour, and I will be beyond the reach of harm." After a few more words, Prince Edward took his arm, and slowly descended the stairs, at the foot of which they found a number of gentlemen assembled, with several servants holding the horses which had been prepared for their excursion. The spearmen whom De Clare had talked of the preceding night did not make their appearance, De Montfort judging that seven or eight of his stanchest followers would be quite sufficient to secure him against the escape of the captive Prince. Edward bowed familiarly to the various gentlemen present, and was received with every appearance of deference and respect. "Good morning, Ingelby," he said; "good morning, Sir William de Cantelupe. Blundel, I am glad you are here--you are a judge of horses; and De Clare has given me one, which he declares will make an excellent charger--God speed the mark! When shall I need a charger again?--But there he comes; at least, I suppose so. What think you of him?" "Nay, no jesting, gentlemen!" cried De Clare, remarking a smile upon the lips of the rest; "that is a horse which, when well fed and pampered highly, will do more service than a thousand sleek-coated beauties." "To the latter appellation, at least, he has no title," replied Blundel, looking at the horse as it was led forward; "but he has good points about him, nevertheless." "He seems quiet enough," observed the Prince; "and, to say sooth, that is no slight matter with me to-day. I am not strong enough to ride a rough-paced fiery charger. But let us mount, gentlemen, and go. Farewell, De Clare! I will not break your horse's wind." "I defy your Grace," answered Thomas de Clare, holding Edward's stirrup, as he mounted slowly. "I wish you a pleasant ride." At the gate of the castle stood the Earl of Leicester himself, ready to do honour to Prince Edward, as he passed; and after a few words of cold courtesy, the train proceeded on its way, and wound out of the town of Hereford. "This free air cheers me," said Edward, turning to one of his companions, after they had passed the gates about half a mile. "How true it is, that blessings, manifold blessings, are only known to be such when we have lost them! To me this free summer wind is in itself the richest of enjoyments." "I am glad to hear it, my lord," replied the gentleman he addressed; "I hope it may do you much good." "If I can obtain many such rides," continued Edward; "I shall soon be quite well. See, how proud Blundel is of his horse! and yet I would bet a silver tankard against a pewter can, that Cantelupe's would beat it for the distance of half a mile, or Ingelby's either." Ingelby, who was near, smiled, well pleased; and the other, to whom Edward had spoken, exclaimed--"Do you hear what the Prince says, Blundel?--that Cantelupe's horse would beat yours for half a mile!" "Cantelupe would not try," answered Blundel, "I should think." "Oh, I will try!" cried Cantelupe; "to please the Prince, I will try with all my heart. Let us set off!" "Nay, nay," rejoined Edward, "let us wait till we get upon the turf, on the higher ground. If I remember right, there is as fair a course there as any in England. We will make matches there for you, and I will give a golden drinking cup as a prize for the horse that beats all the rest. You shall run two at a time, and the gentlemen who remain with me will be the judges of each course." "Agreed, agreed!" cried the whole party. "I shall win the cup!" said Blundel. "Not you!" shouted Ingelby, in his loud, hoarse voice. "It is scarcely fair for me, however, for I am so much heavier." "But you have a stronger horse," replied Edward; and thus passing the time in light conversation, they mounted slowly the first gentle slopes in the neighbourhood of Hereford, and came upon some fine dry turf at the top. As soon as they found an open space where there was grass enough, Blundel and Cantelupe put their horses into a quick pace and galloped on, taking for the winning-post a tree that stood detached at the distance of about half a mile. Cantelupe was the lighter man of the two, and he rode well; but Blundel's horse was decidedly superior, and, he had already passed the tree when his competitor was two or three lengths behind. The Prince seemed greatly to enjoy the sport, and cheered on the men and horses with his voice and hand. Two more competitors speedily succeeded the first, and still the whole party kept, advancing over the wild, turfy sort of down, ever and anon choosing an open spot for their gay pastime. "Now, Ingelby," said the Prince, at length, "you must try with Blundel. As you are the heavier man, you have some advantage in his horse being rather tired. We will give you a mile's course, too, so that your beast's strength will tell. There, up to that gate, with the little village church beyond, and if you beat him, I will fill the cup with silver pieces. He is so proud of his beast, it makes me mad to see him." Blundel patted the arching neck of, his proud charger with a self-satisfied smile, and, at the given sign, gave him his head. Away the two best horses in the party went, and ran the longer course before them with very equal speed, Blundel taking the lead at first, but Ingelby's stronger beast gaining upon him afterwards. Blundel, however, was the first to reach the gate; but Ingelby dared him to try his chance back again, and away they came once more at headlong speed. This time, Ingelby was first, till, at the distance of about three hundred yards from the Prince, his horse stumbled, and came down with a heavy fall. The rider and the charger were both upon their feet again in a moment, but the beast had struck his knee, although not severely, and went lame as he finished the rest of his course. "I know not how we must award the prize here," said the Prince; "for had it not been for that accident----" "Oh, it is mine--it is mine, fairly!" cried Blundel. "Oh, yes, my lord, I think he has won it!" said several voices round. "Oh, I have won it!" reiterated Blundel; but added, laughing, "unless his Grace himself will ride a course with me upon his grey charger." "It must be but a short one, Blundel," answered Edward; "but I do not mind if I try for some hundred yards or two the mettle of the beast. What say you to that little tree?" "With all my heart!" replied Blundel. "On, then!" cried the Prince; and at the same moment he loosed the rein--at which his horse had been tugging for the last half hour--and struck his spurs into the animal's sides. Like an arrow shot from a bow, the lean and bony charger darted forth, covering an immense space of ground at every stretch, and speedily leaving Blundel and his vaunted steed behind. Spurring with all his might, the disappointed cavalier followed on Edward's track; but though the distance to the tree was certainly not more than five hundred yards, the Prince was full fifty in front when he passed it. Seeing that it was vain to make any further effort, Blundel slackened his speed, but to his astonishment the Prince spurred on, gaining upon him every minute; and, at the distance of about seventy or eighty yards, feeling the immense speed and power of the horse that he bestrode, Edward turned gaily round in the saddle, and, waving his hand, exclaimed, in a loud voice, "All courteous things to my cousin De Montfort! Tell him he shall hear from me soon." By this time the party, who had been slowly following, had caught sight of what was passing, and putting their chargers into a gallop, were soon up to the spot where Blundel had halted in bewilderment and wonder. "He is gone!" cried Blundel. "By St. John the Evangelist, he is gone!" "What shall we do?" exclaimed another. "Follow him, follow him, at all events," said Ingelby; "it must not be said that we did not follow him," and accordingly they spurred on at their best speed; but it was all in vain. The poor-looking grey, that every one had contemned, now showed his real powers, each moment seemed to increase his speed, each stride seemed wider than the last, and every instant Edward gained upon his pursuers. For some way he never turned his head to look, feeling sure that they were left far behind; but at length, after rising another gentle slope, he paused for an instant to let his horse breathe, and gazed back over the grassy land, which he could now see extending all the way down to the river. At the distance of about a mile, he beheld a knot of eight horsemen, in whom he instantly recognised the persons who had been sent to guard him. But they were no longer following upon his track, their horses' heads were turned towards Hereford, and thither they now pursued their way, having soon given up all hope of overtaking the fugitive. "Where is my Lord of Leicester?" demanded Ingelby, the moment they arrived in the court of the castle. "He is holding private council, and cannot be spoken with," replied the officer to whom he addressed himself. "I must speak with him, however," rejoined Ingelby. "You cannot!" said the officer, sternly; "he is in close conference with the Earl of Oxford and Lord Ralph." "If the devil were with him, I must see him!" exclaimed Ingelby. "Out of my way, man! I will bear the blame." And, pushing past him, he approached the door of the council-chamber, and knocked hard with his hand. A page, who was within, opened the door; and walking straight up to De Montfort, who sat at the head of the table, Ingelby whispered, "The Prince is gone, my lord!" De Montfort turned fiercely round upon him, and struck the table with his clenched hand, exclaiming "Gone!" "Ay, my lord, gone!" replied the officer; "and yet none of us could help it;" and he proceeded to explain how Edward had effected his escape. De Montfort showed no further agitation or surprise than that which the sudden communication of such intelligence elicited at first. It overpowered his usual calmness for a moment; but then it was past. After hearing Ingelby's account, he muttered to himself--"The shadow that fell upon me this morning was from this cloud. Go, boy," he continued, addressing the page who stood at the door, "bid the constable of the guard seek for Thomas de Clare; and if he find him, attach him for high treason. Let some one, too, summon the Lords of Ashby hither instantly, on business of much importance. Quick boy, away!--My Lord of Oxford, I will beseech you to speed across the country to Pevensey at once, and instead of aiding my son to take it, as we proposed just now, bid him raise the siege, and march to join me, with all the men whom he can raise, coming by Winchester and Oxford. We shall soon have business on our hands, and must be up and stirring. What were we saying, Sir Adam de Newfort!--oh, about bringing the troops from Chester;" and he entered again upon the subject which they had before been discussing, seeming to dismiss from his mind the escape of the Prince, as if it had been a matter of no moment. In about half an hour the messenger returned, whom he had sent to order the arrest of Thomas de Clare. "My lord," said the page, "they are not to be found." "They!" exclaimed the Earl. "Lord Thomas left the castle an hour ago," replied the page, "and his servants are all gone likewise." "So I thought, so I thought!" said De Montfort; "'Trust not soft seeming' is a good old saw. I might have been wiser than to put faith in one of the brood of Gloucester." "But of the Ashbys, boy--speak of the Ashbys!" cried Lord Ralph Basset. "My heart is no true prophet if they play us not false likewise." "They went out upon the Worcester road, the people of their inn declare," rejoined the boy, "within half an hour after they left the castle, and ere an hour was over all their people followed them, their steward paying the score." "Let them go!" cried De Montfort, "we can afford to lose them. An unwilling hand is always well spared from a good cause. Besides, the greater loss puts out the less. One Edward is worth a whole shop full of Ashbys!" and with this contemptuous observation he turned to other matters again. CHAPTER XIX. The impediments of life, at which we fret and chafe in early years, and which we view with stern doubt and disappointment in that after period when the shortness of the space left to us renders each moment really as valuable as it only seems to be in the eagerness of youthful impatience--the impediments of life, I say--the things that check us in our impetuous course, and force us to pause and to delay--how often are they blessings instead of curses? How often is the object which they dash from our outstretched hands an evil rather than the good that we esteemed it! Hugh de Monthermer, as we have shewn, rode away from the castle of Hereford about half an hour before Prince Edward. He chose the very road, and went on at great speed for about three miles; he then turned his horse into a path somewhat different from that which the Prince had chosen, but leading nearly in the same direction; and in that he proceeded at a rate which gave his five servants some trouble in keeping up with him. At length, however, his horse suddenly went lame, and on dismounting to see what was the matter, he found that a nail had run into the frog of the animal's foot; and although it was easily extracted, yet it was impossible to proceed at the same pace as before. "Give me your horse, Peterkin," he said, "halting, and take mine slowly back to Hereford." While the servant was changing the saddle, however, a countryman appeared on the road, driving some swine before him; and Hugh immediately walked up to him, asking, "Is this the way, my friend, to Monington Chapel?" "No, no," replied the man; "you must go back. You should have taken the first turning on your left. Lord, now! only to think of your not knowing your way to Monington Chapel!" "What's the hour?" asked Hugh. "Just mid-day," answered the man. "Don't you see the sun?" "Then there is time," said Hugh de Monthermer; and mounting the servant's horse, he retrod his steps for some distance. Just as he was approaching the turning, however, which the man had directed him to take, he heard a loud whistling scream, which made him look up to the sky, thinking that some eagle--a bird then very common in the marches of Wales--had come close above his head. But nothing of the kind was to be seen; and a moment after the same cry was repeated, while one of the servants who were riding a little way behind, exclaimed, "It is the dwarf, my lord, it is Tangel. See where he comes at full speed, like a monkey on a race-horse!" Hugh de Monthermer paused for a moment and turned his eyes down the road from Hereford, up which the dwarf was coming, not mounted on his forest pony, but perched upon the back of a tall charger with his head just seen between the ears of the animal, his long arms stretched out holding the bridle somewhat short, and his equally lengthy legs hanging down, affording no bad type for the old figure of Nobody. The boy was speedily by Hugh de Monthermer's side, shaking his head reproachfully as he came, and saying, "Ay, you would not listen to Tangel, man-at-arms. Nobody listens to Tangel; and why? Because he has not got a skin like a sucking pig and a face such as boys cut out of a turnip. Now, if any of these bottle-nosed beer drinkers had told you to stay and listen, you would have waited by the hour." "Not I," replied Hugh de Monthermer, "nor can I wait now, good Tangel; so come on, and make haste with your story by the way. What is it you want to tell me?" "Ay, haste, haste!" cried Tangel, turning his horse and keeping by the side of the young lord; "always hasting to destruction, and slow to anything good. Now are you riding out here, without knowing where you are going or who it is that has sent for you." "And pray, if you are wiser, Tangel," said Hugh, with a smile, "let me know where it is I am going to, and who it is that has sent for me." "Going to a prison," cried Tangel, "and he who sent for you is a traitor." "Are you serious?" demanded Hugh, turning gravely towards him. "No, never was merrier in my life," answered Tangel, grinning till he shewed his fine white teeth running back almost to his ears. "Is it not enough to make me merry, to see a man who calls himself wise put his head into a noose like a woodcock?--Now I will catechise you, as the priest of the chapel did me one day when he was drunk. Did you not receive a letter to-day?" "Yes, I did," replied Hugh. "Who gave you that letter?" demanded Tangel. "One of the servants of the noble Earl of Leicester," answered Hugh. "Ha!" said the boy, "they are cunninger than I thought." "And moreover," added the young nobleman, "I asked the servant from whom he had received it, and he told me, from one of the attendants of the Earl of Ashby." "And who did the Earl Ashby's ton of flesh get it from?" demanded the dwarf.--"I will tell you, for you know nothing about it yourself. He got it from gallant, sweet, honest, pretty Richard de Ashby, before he ran away from Hereford, last night. I heard him when he thought there were no ears listening; for I watched him all over the place, as soon as I found he was in Hereford, creeping after him like a shadow. He gave me a blow once in Nottingham, and called me ape and devil; but the ape was at his heels last night when he and his fair cousin Alured were plotting to go over to Gloucester; and I heard him say, that he would have you in a net before four-and-twenty hours were over." "He might have found himself mistaken, Tangel," replied Hugh, "for I had my misgivings. Although I have not often seen the Lady Lucy's handwriting, I suspected that the note was not hers; and, though he told me to come alone, I brought five stout fellows with me, as you see, intending to leave them within call. I think we six might be quite enough to deal with any force they would dare to bring within seven miles of Hereford." The dwarf laughed aloud, paused, and then laughed again; but in his wayward fashion he would not explain the cause of his merriment, let Hugh say what he would. "Mighty cunning--mighty cunning!" he cried. "Now, if you have luck, you may catch the fowler in his trap; but yet, if you be wise, you will ride back to Hereford, and take a nuncheon at the Maypole." "No," replied Hugh; pausing for an instant, and beckoning to his followers to come up; "no, I will not. I know Richard de Ashby's force right well, and we five are worth any ten he can bring against us. I would give a capful of gold pieces to take that traitor back with me, and nail his ears to the castle gates; but we must lay our plan securely. The place appointed is Monington Chapel, and there surely must be some place near it where I can conceal the men." "Why, my lord," said one of his followers, "just on this side of it is Little Bilberry wood. I know it well; and then beyond, is the great wood of Monington. We can find cover in either, for a thousand spears if it were necessary." "I forget the place, though I have seen it often," replied Hugh; and, musing over what the dwarf had told him, he rode on till the highway entered a little copse intersected by numerous paths. The width of the whole wood might be about a hundred and fifty yards, though the length, to the right and left of the road which they followed was not less than a couple of miles; and as the young nobleman and his train issued forth again on the other side, they perceived at a short distance before them a small chapel, to which the name of a shrine would have been more appropriate, for the largest congregation that it could contain was certainly thirty persons at the utmost. Hugh de Monthermer's arrangements were soon made. Drawing back as soon as possible, lest any one should observe his movements, he stationed his men under cover of the wood, and then advanced alone to the chapel, the door of which was open, as usual with all places of worship at that time. Before he entered, however, he paused to gaze over the scene on the other side of the little building, which presented, first an open green expanse covered with short grass dotted with tufts of fern, and then, with the interval of about a third of a mile, a deep, sombre wood, extending to a considerable distance on both sides. The ground all round was perfectly clear, and the copse, where he had left his men, so near at hand that it was impossible for him to be taken at a disadvantage by a larger force than his own, without having due warning of its approach. Hugh looked up towards the sun, saying to himself, "I am half an hour before the time, I should imagine--We shall have a storm ere long:" and, fastening his horse to a hook fixed in the stone work, apparently for that purpose, he entered the chapel, which was quite vacant. Above the altar appeared the figure of the Virgin, and kneeling for a moment, as usual with all persons of his faith, Hugh repeated a short prayer, and then rising, gazed out of a window which turned towards the larger wood at the back. The sky was becoming rapidly clouded, and though the sun shone high in heaven, it only served to render the thick, thronged mass of vapours, that were rolling up from the south-west, more dark and lowering in appearance than would have been the case had they not been contrasted with the warm glow of the zenith. Soon, however, swelling up like the waves of an ocean of molten lead, the white edges of the thunder-cloud covered the disk of the sun, bringing with them an oppressive heat very different from the mild but fresh air which had prevailed during the morning. Still Hugh de Monthermer kept his eye fixed upon the wood; and after watching for several minutes, he thought he could distinguish, through the bolls of the trees, a human form, moving slowly along at the very verge. It disappeared again, and for a few moments nothing more was perceived, so that Hugh, at length, begun to think he had been in error. He soon found that such was not the case, for after a short pause, a man on foot issued forth a step or two, and was seen to look carefully round him. He then gazed down the road towards Hereford, and put his hand over his eyes, as if to shade them from the light. Apparently satisfied, he retired into the wood again, after having continued his investigations for about three or four minutes. It was evident he was watching for some one, and Hugh naturally concluded it was himself. The young nobleman paused, meditating how he should act--at one moment, thinking of shewing himself, in order to bring the affair to a speedy issue, but the next, judging it would be better to remain in the chapel till the hour appointed had arrived. While he was still hesitating, a vivid flash of lightning, that almost blinded him, burst forth from the cloud, and appeared to sweep close past the chapel. Some large drops of rain fell at the same time, and after another and another flash--succeeding each other with extraordinary rapidity--the flood-gates of the heavens seemed to open, and the torrent poured down, mingling hail with the rain, and forming foaming yellow pools at every indentation of the road. Incessantly through the twilight of the storm the broad blue glare of the lightning was seen, with a thin, bright, fiery line crossing the tissue of the flame, and marking its fierce and destructive character; while the rolling peal of the thunder seemed to shake the very earth, echoing and re-echoing from the woods around. "Those poor fellows will be half drowned," thought Hugh de Monthermer; "I have a great mind to call them into the chapel, though it might lose me my opportunity. Yet, if I were sure of catching that villain, and carrying him into Hereford,--ay, or of meeting him with double my numbers, I would myself swim the Wye a dozen times.--Hark! surely that was the tramp of a horse's feet!" Another clap of thunder, however, drowned all other sounds; but when it had passed away, the noise of a horse's hoofs beating the ground at a quick pace distinctly reached the young nobleman's ear. Hugh de Monthermer listened. "There is but one," he said; "I will take no odds against him;" and he loosened his sword in the scabbard, keeping behind the angle of the building, so as not to show himself too soon at the half-opened door. The next instant the horse stopped opposite the Chapel, the rider was heard to spring to the ground; and after a moment's delay, in order, it seemed, to secure the beast from straying, the stranger's foot was heard ascending the steps. Hugh de Monthermer advanced to confront him, but instantly drew back again, exclaiming, in a tone of strong astonishment--"Prince Edward!" "Hugh de Monthermer," cried Edward, "this is strange meeting, old companion!" "It is, indeed, my dear lord," replied Hugh. "It becomes me not to ask how or why you are here, but I will confess that it rejoices my very heart to see you at liberty, though I doubt not many men would say, if they knew of our meeting, that I ought to arrest and bring you back to Hereford." "He would be a bold man!" answered the Prince, raising his towering form to its full height--"He would be a bold man who would attempt, single-handed, to stop Edward of England on his way!" "Alas, my lord!" replied Hugh de Monthermer, "I have not even that excuse to give to those who may blame me. One shout from that door would bring fearful odds against you, for, to tell the truth, I am waiting here to catch that arch-traitor, Richard de Ashby, in his own net, and have left men in the little wood you have just passed. But once more, I say, I rejoice to see you free." "Then, indeed, I thank you, Hugh," replied the Prince--"I thank you from my heart for your sincere love--though, if I judge rightly, I am not so unprotected as I seem." The young nobleman took the hand that Edward held out to him, and kissed it respectfully, saying, "I would not betray you, my lord, for the world, were you here alone and I at the head of hundreds; but ere we part, I must ask you one boon." "Nay, let us not part yet," rejoined Edward; "there is much to be said between us, Hugh. I have taken shelter here from the storm,--you are here also; and while the elements rage without, let us talk of giving peace to the land." "That is the object of the boon I crave, my lord," answered Hugh, "but I can stay no longer with you than to name that boon. No, not even to hear you concede or refuse it--else I shall be held a traitor to that cause which I believed to be sacred. The boon is this: when you have joined the Earl of Gloucester--when you see yourself at the head of armies--and when you feel your royal mind at liberty to act with power and success, publish a proclamation pledging yourself to uphold all those laws and ordinances which have been enacted for the safety of the land, for the rights and liberties of the people, and for our protection from foreign minions and base favourites--laws and ordinances to which you have once already given your consent. If you do this, I myself will never draw the sword against you, nor do I believe will Simon de Montfort." Edward shook his head, with a look of doubt. "De Montfort is ambitious, Hugh," he said; "perhaps he was not always so, for many a man begins a patriot and ends a tyrant." At that moment the sound of a horn was heard from the little neighbouring copse, and Hugh de Monthermer advanced to the door of the chapel, knowing that it was a signal of danger. The scene that presented itself was curious: the rain was still pouring down heavy and grey; the air was dim and loaded; the flashes of the lightning were blazing through the sky, and seemed to the eyes of the young nobleman to be actually running along the ground. At the same time, rushing towards him with rapidity almost superhuman, was the poor dwarf, Tangel, throwing about his long, lean arms, in the most grotesque manner, and pointing ever and anon to the opposite wood, issuing forth from which appeared a body of at least three hundred horse, well armed and mounted, and coming down at full speed towards the chapel. Hugh turned one look more into the building and waved his hand, exclaiming--"Adieu, my lord, adieu! Here is danger near;" and, gaining his horse's side, he unhooked the bridle, and leapt into the saddle. "Up, Tangel! Up behind me!" he cried, as the dwarf came nigh--"up, quick, or they will be upon us!" The dwarf sprang up behind him in a moment, with one single bound from the ground; and Hugh, turning the bridle towards the little copse, dashed on at full speed. The servant's horse, however, which he was riding, was not a very fast one; the troop from the wood was coming forward with great rapidity, and seemed determined to chase him: his own force was too small to offer any resistance; and Hugh de Monthermer saw with bitterness of spirit that if the adversaries still pursued, he must soon be a prisoner. To be so deceived and foiled, added anger to the grief he felt at the prospect of captivity, and he muttered to himself--"They shall pay dearly for it, at all events," while he still spurred on towards the copse from which his own men were now approaching, leading the horse on which the dwarf had joined them. "Mount your beast quickly!" cried Hugh, turning his head to Tangel. "Go on--go on, fast, good master!" cried the boy. "Do not halt for me: I will mount without your stopping, only carry me close enough to the beast;" and in a moment after, as Hugh rode swiftly up towards his followers, the boy put his hands upon the young nobleman's shoulders, sprang up with his feet on the charger's haunches, and then with a leap and a shrill cry, he lighted on his own horse, whirled himself round, and dropped into the saddle. No time, indeed, was to be lost; for Hugh and his attendants met midway between the building and the wood, when one end of the enemy's line already reached the chapel. And at that moment, Edward himself darted out upon the steps, and shouted aloud, "Halt! I command you, halt!--Lord Lovell, Sir Thomas Grey, I charge you, halt! Chase him not. I say!--Sir Richard de Ashby," he continued, raising his voice till it seemed to vie with the thunder, as he saw that his orders were unheeded, "Halt! on your life! Will you disobey my first command?" But Richard de Ashby was deaf, and dashed on with five or six others, while the rest of their party drew the rein, some sooner, some later, pausing in a broken line. Hugh de Monthermer and his men spurred forward at the full gallop; but the slippery ground, now thoroughly soaked by the pelting rain, defeated his effort to escape an attack. The horse of one of his followers floundered, and fell some forty yards before they reached the copse; and though both man and beast staggered up again, the pursuers were too near to be evaded. Some ten yards in advance of the rest, mounted upon a fleet black horse, was Richard de Ashby himself. He was fully armed with hauberk and shield and spear, but his aventaille was open, and a glow of savage satisfaction might be seen upon his countenance. Hugh de Monthermer turned in the saddle, to measure the distance between them with his eye, saw in a moment that escape was not possible, but that vengeance was; and, snatching from the man next to him a spear and small round buckler, he wheeled his horse, struck the sharp spur furiously into its flanks, and met his pursuer in full career. The young knight himself was clothed in nothing but a hauqueton of purple cendal, which, though stiffly stuffed with cotton, as was then customary, afforded poor protection against the point of a lance. But the tournament and the battlefield had been the young nobleman's ball-room and his school, his place of amusement and his place of practice; and his eye was always ready to discover, his hand prepared to take advantage of the slightest movement of an enemy. He perceived in an instant that Richard de Ashby's lance was aimed at his throat, but he showed by no sign that he knew that such was the case, till he was within a yard of his enemy. Then suddenly raising his buckler, he turned the point aside; and at the same instant he somewhat lifted his own spear, which, as he had no rest, was charged upon his thigh, intending to strike his adversary full in the face. But Richard de Ashby bent his head, and the lance touching him high upon the forehead, glanced off from the skull, and catching in the hood of mail, hurled him headlong from his charger to the ground. Hugh drew up his horse suddenly by the side of the fallen man, and shortening the spear, held it to his throat, shouting aloud to those who followed--"If any one comes near; he dies!" By this time his own attendants had rejoined him; and two or three gentlemen came riding down at a quick pace from the chapel, calling upon their companions, who had gone before, to halt and come back. "Did you not hear the Prince's voice?" exclaimed an elderly knight, angrily, as he approached: "it is his express commands, that you come back. Depart, Lord Hugh--depart in peace; it is the Prince's will, and we obey." "Had I but one half your numbers, Lord Lovel," answered Hugh, "I would not go without taking this traitor with me." "Or being taken yourself," replied Lord Lovell, with a laugh. "I can assure you, my good lord, we had every intention of carrying you with us into Worcestershire; but as the Prince will let the bird out of the trap which poor Richard baited so nicely for him, he must e'en use his wings--there is no help for it. You seem to have pecked the fowler pretty handsomely, however. I believe you have cleft his skull. There--let his people come up and help him! You have my word against treachery." "I fear he is not punished as much as he deserves," replied Hugh de Monthermer. "Bear my dutiful thanks to the Prince for his courtesy; and now, fare you well, my Lord Lovell. I trust we shall soon meet again." Thus saying, he turned his horse, and rode quickly but thoughtfully back to Hereford. CHAPTER XX. A few pages more of dry details, dear reader, and then for nothing but brief scenes and rapid action. This, if you please, is a chapter of pure history; and therefore those who are well read in the annals of the times may pass it over without any particular attention. To all who are not, however, it will be found absolutely necessary to the right understanding of that which is to follow. On Hugh de Monthermer's arrival at Hereford, he found the news of Edward's escape common to all the town; but, nevertheless, he thought it necessary to communicate first to his uncle, and then to the Earl of Leicester, all that had taken place after he had left them in the morning. "Some three hundred horses!" said De Montfort, as he listened to the young nobleman's account of his meeting with Richard de Ashby. "They are bold, upon my life! but they teach us that we have been somewhat negligent. And so you unhorsed the traitor, but could neither kill nor take him? It is a pity--you are sure that he is not dead?" "Not sure, my lord," replied Hugh; "but I rather think not, for I felt the spear strike, and then glance off. I would fain have brought him into Hereford." "Have you heard," continued De Montfort, "that our good friends the Earl of Ashby and his son have left us?--so that I fear some hopes and expectations, which your uncle mentioned regarding a fair lady's hand, may suffer disappointment." "I have heard it, my lord," answered Hugh, "and am, I confess, not a little grieved. Nevertheless----" "Well, what of nevertheless?" asked De Montfort, seeing that be. paused. "Why, nevertheless, my lord," replied Hugh, "I cannot but hope that I shall succeed at last. I have never yet seen a matter of love which was destined to end happily begin smoothly at the first." "Ay, hope!" said De Montfort. "Hope is like a hungry boy, who I once saw burn his mouth with his porridge; for he still consoled himself, poor urchin, by saying that it would be cool enough by and by. May it be as you wish, my young friend:--and so good night; for neither you nor I can mend what is gone amiss this day." As Hugh was leaving the room, De Montfort called to him again, saying, "Pray ask your uncle to spend an hour with me to-night. I want his warlike counsels in our present strait; I know no one more fitted to advise me." "And none more willing, my lord," replied Hugh, quitting the room. Bustle, activity, preparation, the movement of troops, rumours Of strange events, some false, some true, portents, even miracles--for those were times in which every man were the magnifying-glasses of superstition--doubts, expectations, suppositions in regard to the motions of every following day, filled up the next fortnight busily. Every part of the country, from one end to the other, was stirred up to fight for one party or the other; and bands of soldiers moving across to join their several banners often encountered in the same village, and by their contests "frighted the isle from its propriety." According to the best accounts that could be obtained, the number of troops which gathered round Prince Edward and the Earl of Gloucester was considerably larger than that which joined De Montfort in Hereford, and being principally composed of cavalry, these levies dropped much more rapidly in; the foot soldiers, who were enrolling themselves for the party of the Lords Commissioners, as De Montfort's faction was called, though infinitely more numerous, being very much longer in their march, and more easily intercepted and driven back by the enemy. To counterbalance the depression, however, which the increasing strength of Edward and Gloucester might have spread through Hereford, rumours came daily of a great rising of the citizens of the capital, in favour of De Montfort; and there was also on his side that great moral support which is given by the assurance of being at the head of a great popular movement--for, that the cause of De Montfort was the popular one, no one can doubt who reads the ballads, the legends, or the histories of the day. The people, beyond all question, looked upon that renowned leader, not only as the champion of their rights and liberties, but as a hero, which he really was, and as a saint, which he probably was not. Still the camp of De Montfort suffered many severe defections. In political contests, the love of novelty and of change affects many more men than one would at first sight suppose, causing them to seize any pretext for abandoning a party to which they have been for some time attached, and for going over to the other, which they have constantly opposed. Dissensions with their leaders or their fellow partisans, disgusts at trifling acts of neglect--even weariness of habitual associations, will produce in others the same effect; and thus a great number of the nobles, who before the famous battle of Lewes supported the Earl of Leicester, now framed or discovered an excuse for following the example of the Earl of Ashby and his son, and joining the forces of Gloucester and Prince Edward. A few, too, really doubtful of De Montfort's real intentions, and fearful of his growing power, either retired from his party without espousing that of the Prince, or abandoned him entirely, and prepared to oppose him in arms. Many of his weaker partisans, though adhering still to his cause, were alarmed at this defection, and looked grave and sorrowful at the intelligence received of the enemy's movements; but the Earl, though as serious in his demeanour as his age and character might require, was still firm and cheerful, as were all his principal councillors and companions. None seemed less depressed than the old Earl of Monthermer, who had always a hopeful and courteous answer to give to every one. "We shall beat them yet, my good friend," he said, in answer to a somewhat timid and news-seeking gentleman, who stopped him while riding down from the castle to his inn. "We shall beat them yet, do not fear. Unless some great and extraordinary error is committed on our side, or some inconceivable piece of good fortune occurs upon theirs, they must be defeated, as they were at Lewes." "But I see," said his companion, "that the Earl has proclaimed----" "Not the Earl, but the King," interrupted the old lord--"it is the King who has proclaimed Gloucester and all his adherents traitors; but that makes very little difference. In contentions like these, every man is called a traitor in his turn, whatever side he takes; and as for those who have gone over to the enemy, do not let their defection alarm you. It is better always to have an open enemy than a false friend; and a wise general gives all cowards and waverers a prompt order to quit the ranks of his army, not only as a useless, but an injurious incumbrance." Such cheerful words, and a few gallant acts performed in a casual skirmish here and there, kept up the spirits of the soldiery in Hereford and the neighbouring towns, till at length such a number of men were collected, as seemed to justify De Montfort in taking the field, although the army of the Prince might be, perhaps, by one-half more numerous than his own. The movements of the great Earl after marching out of Hereford, became of a strange and incongruous character, which greatly puzzled and embarrassed many of his best supporters, and which have not been clearly understood even in our own time; but De Montfort's countenance remained calm and tranquil, even in the midst of what seemed, to ordinary observers, checks and reverses; and it was remarked, that the two or three noblemen who were in his most intimate councils, maintained the same serene aspect, whatever circumstances occurred. At the head of a large force, Edward interposed between the army of the Lords Commissioners and London, moving as it moved, and practising with consummate art, the science of strategy, as it was known in those days, with the evident purpose of keeping his adversary at a distance from his resources, without giving him battle, exactly at his own time and place. De Montfort, in the meantime, affected to man[oe]uvre skilfully for the purpose of passing Edward's superior force without fighting, and making his way direct to London. But in all these operations, the Prince seemed to have the advantage, turning his opponent at every passage, as the greyhound does the hare. Many facts have since been discovered, which have induced modern historians to suppose that De Montfort sought merely to amuse his adversary; but, at the time, two circumstances only, led the closer observers in the Earl of Leicester's camp to believe that that great man had a covert object in view, and that he was not actually so completely frustrated by his opponent as appeared upon the surface. The first was, that perfect equanimity to which we have alluded, and which he maintained under every apparent reverse. The second, was a degree of anxious impatience, which manifested itself upon the arrival of many of the messengers who were constantly coming and going between his camp and the south-eastern parts of the country. These facts, in those who remarked them, created a suspicion that the Earl was waiting for reinforcements, not choosing to risk a battle till they had joined him; and at length a circumstance occurred which confirmed this opinion, and quieted the anxiety of many who had begun to fear that ill success was hanging over the very commencement of their career. Towards the middle of July, the army approached the small town of Newport, after having attacked and taken Uske, which was feebly defended by some of the Earl of Gloucester's adherents. It seemed evidently the intention of De Montfort and his councillors to cross the Severn, a few miles above Newport, and take possession of Bristol; and orders to that effect had been actually given. Few vessels, however, capable of transporting the forces of the Earl, were found at the spot where De Montfort had ordered them to be collected, and Edward himself was known to be in the neighbourhood. But several ships and galleys of a considerable size were to be seen moored at the opposite side; and Hugh de Monthermer, who commanded an advance party, threw himself into a passage boat with a small force, and crossed the estuary towards a point where he believed he could make good his defence, while he dispatched the vessels to the opposite shore, to bring over the main army of the Earl. His proceedings, as far as they were suffered to go, proved entirely successful. He effected his landing, repulsed a body of the enemy who attempted to dislodge him, and secured a place of disembarkation for the rest of the forces; when, to his surprise, while he was endeavouring to induce the seamen in the other vessels to cross to the Welsh shore, a messenger reached him, in a small row-boat, commanding his immediate return. Hugh obeyed at once; and, proceeding to the head-quarters of De Montfort, he found his uncle and Lord Ralph Basset in conference with the Earl of Leicester. The young nobleman was about to explain the motives of his conduct, but De Montfort stopped him, saying--"You did quite right, my young friend; but Prince Edward and I, you must know, are as two chess-players, where the game is life and power, and neither he nor I must hazard one rash move, if we would avoid destruction. I know my own game--he is not aware of it; and it is necessary that he should not be so till the last moment." These words were heard by many of the gentlemen round, and rumour soon carried them through the whole host--one person repeating them in one manner, and another in another, but all implying the same thing--that De Montfort had some dark secret purpose in view; and such was the confidence of the soldiery in their leader, that they never doubted success would attend him, whatever that purpose was. An immediate change of movements then took place. Suddenly turning into South Wales, the army ravaged a district belonging to some of the adherents of Gloucester; and in his progress, De Montfort entered into a treaty with several of the Native Welsh princes, by which he obtained the assistance of a considerable body of their light armed troops. A short pause of total inactivity next succeeded, and the Earl remained encamped for two or three days on the banks of the river Lug, apparently with the purpose of giving some repose to his forces, in the midst of the heats of July. Messengers, however, were continually coming and going; the Earl was constantly employed, either in writing or in training the troops to various military evolutions; and, after all the camp except the sentinels were sound asleep, a light was seen burning in his tent till two or three in the morning. "He used his nights," says a historian of those times, "more for thought and labour, than for sleep." During the greater part of each day, and often during these nocturnal vigils, the old Earl of Monthermer and the Lord le Despenser remained with De Montfort, sometimes consulting with him, sometimes writing in the same tent, sometimes examining the rude maps of that period, measuring distances and tracing out lines, but not one word did either of them utter, even to their nearest and dearest relations, in regard to the plans and purposes of the general. At length, one night towards eleven o'clock, while the army was what was both technically and literally, "in the field," Hugh de Monthermer received a summons, written in the hand of De Montfort himself, desiring his immediate presence, The last words were, "Bring your dwarf page with you." Tangel was accordingly roused from the corner in which he slept, and followed Hugh to the quarters of the Earl, whom they found sitting in the outer tent in company with two or three noblemen. The flap of the canvas was drawn back on either side, in order to admit what fresh air could be found in a sultry night of summer, and at one end of a table, round which the assembled nobles were seated, appeared a man, dusty with travelling and dressed in the garb of a Yorkshire forester. "Here is a letter for you, my Lord Hugh," said De Montfort, "enclosed in one to myself;" and he handed a small packet to Hugh de Monthermer, tied, as was then customary, and fastened with yellow wax. Hugh took it, but before he broke the seal or cut the silk, he advanced to the table and examined the outside of the letter carefully by the light of one of the lamps. "Something seems to strike you as extraordinary," said De Montfort. "What is the matter?" "I will tell your lordship presently," replied Hugh; and severing the silk with his dagger, he read the contents. "This is good news as far as it goes," he said at length in a low tone; "I find that my good friend Ralph Harland is on his road to join us, together with a certain forest friend of ours," he added, turning towards his uncle, "with some seven hundred bold yeomen and foresters of York and Nottingham, and more will follow. They are already far advanced on their way in Staffordshire.--But I cannot help thinking, my good lord," he added, raising his voice, "that this letter has been opened and read before it reached my hands." As the young nobleman spoke he fixed his eyes on the messenger, who was somewhat pale before, but became paler still when he heard the last words. "I will swear upon the blessed rood!" he cried, "that I have never opened the packet, but brought it safely hither, as I was told." "Who told you to bring it?" asked De Montfort, fixing his stern eyes upon him. The man hesitated a moment, and then replied, "Robin of Barnesdale." "What makes you think it has been opened, Hugh?" demanded the Earl of Monthermer. "Why, my dear uncle," answered the young nobleman, "this wax is yellow, but at the side of it is a stain of green, as if at first it had been sealed with another colour." "Can our friend Robin write?" inquired De Montfort. "Yea!" cried a shrill voice from behind Hugh de Monthermer, "as well as a Florentine reed or a turkey's quill in the hand of an Oxford clerk." "We shall soon know more, my lord," said Hugh de Monthermer; "but this letter is not Robin's writing, this is from Ralph Harland the franklin." "But this," replied the Earl, laying his hand upon another letter--"this purports to be from the bold forester, praying me to send you with some men-at-arms to reinforce them as they come, seeing that Gloucester threatens them, and they are afraid to proceed." "That shows it to be a forgery at once," said Hugh, in a low voice to Leicester; "Robin never seeks aid of any man. There is treachery somewhere, my lord; but we have means at hand of convicting this fellow.--Now, sir," he continued, "tell me, and tell me true, who sent you hither; and, beware! for if you deceive me, it may cost your life." "I have told you already," answered the man, doggedly. "Well then, stand forward, my little magician," cried Hugh, laying his hand upon Tangel's head. "We hear of Eastern talismans, my lord, whereby truth and falsehood are discovered, as gold and alloy by the touchstone; and in this boy I have such a human talisman, who will soon tell us how much verity there is in the fellow's tale. Now, Tangel, look at him well, and say if he came from Robin Hood?" "No," answered the dwarf, well pleased with the importance of his functions, and entering fully into the spirit of his master's figure of speech--"Hark! I hear Robin deny him, and say he never yet set eyes upon him." Then tugging the young nobleman's sleeve he whispered the words, "Go on!--ask me more!" "And now, Tangel," continued Hugh, "can you tell me whose man he is?" "Right well," replied the dwarf, fixing his keen gaze upon the pale face of the messenger; and then speaking slowly, he added, "He is Prince Edward's." A slight smile came upon the man's countenance for a moment; but Tangel went on almost without a pause, watching him keenly as he spoke. "He is Prince Edward's by the Earl of Gloucester, and the Earl of Gloucester's by Richard de Ashby. Ha! ha! ha! I hear them laughing, when they think how they will take in De Montfort, and lead the Lord Hugh into a trap--and he hears them, too! Look at his face--look at his face!" Certainly that face was now as bloodless as the visage of the dead. "Take him away!" said De Montfort, in a stern tone--"take him away, and hang him on the first tree!" "I will confess--I will confess," cried the man, falling upon his knees. "Spare my life, and I will confess!" "It is your only hope of safety," replied the Earl; "tell the whole truth, and you shall be spared--out with it at once, and without hesitation!" "Well, then," said the detected impostor, in a whining tone, "I confess I am Sir Richard de Ashby's man!" and he went on to tell how a jolly monk, passing through a village in the neighbourhood of Worcester, and making merry with some soldiers, had been recognised by one of the servants of Richard de Ashby, and instantly arrested. On searching him strictly, the letter from Ralph Harland to Hugh de Monthermer had been found, wrapped in leather, between his sandal and the sole of his foot, and a plan was instantly formed, both for cutting off the party of the young franklin and Robin Hood, and also for leading Hugh de Monthermer into an ambuscade. "The Earl of Gloucester and Roger Mortimer," he said, "had been made acquainted with the plot, but not the Prince." "Take him away!" said De Montfort, after the story was told--"Take him away, and guard him strictly! We may have occasion to account with these gentlemen at some future time.--Now here is an opportunity," he continued, as soon as the pretended yeoman was removed, "which some men would seize, for cutting off whatever troops the rebels may detach in execution of their pitiful schemes, but I think, my good lords, we must not waste our strength upon skirmishes. At any moment, we may have to act suddenly with our whole force, and therefore we must cast away the occasion that now presents itself of lopping off a limb from our enemy. Nevertheless, we must not forget the safety of our friends; some faithful messenger must be sent at once to meet the reinforcement from Nottingham and Yorkshire, and give them notice to take a circuit through Shropshire. Shrewsbury is ours, and all the country round; so, on that road, they will be safe. Have you any one you can send?" Hugh looked at the dwarf, and the boy clapped his hands gladly, exclaiming, "Let me go--let me go!" "So be it, then!" said Hugh, "I will provide him with the means at once, my lord. He had better have no letter but a purse well-filled, and a swift horse. He will not fail a word of the message---- "Hark!" cried De Montfort, "there is a sound of galloping from the other side of the river! The messengers, at length, I trust.--Do you know your errand, boy?" "Right well, great man," answered the dwarf, "and I will not fail either in speed or truth." "What, ho!--stand!--who goes there?" demanded the sentinels, who were placed about fifty yards from De Montfort's tent. "A friend!" was the reply. "Stand, friend, and dismount!" cried the sentinel. "Letters," answered the other voice--"letters from the Lord Simon de Montfort, to his father, the most noble Earl of Leicester." "Ha!" exclaimed Leicester, starting up, with his whole face beaming with satisfaction, "At length!--Let him advance!" he shouted--"Let him advance!" and a moment after, coming forward to the opening of the tent, a man, pale, haggard, and worn, presented himself, bearing a small packet in his hand. "This is to your lordship, from your son," he said; "I left him well, at Oxford, not many hours ago, with thirty thousand men in arms, all ready to defy the world, on behalf of De Montfort." Too eager to make any reply, the Earl of Leicester took the packet, tore it open, and read--"All is right!" he cried at length, rising with a well pleased smile, and turning to the gentlemen on his right. "Now, my good lords--now, the moment for action has come. To you, Monthermer--to you, Le Despenser, thanks--many thanks, for those wise and prudent counsels which have cast cool patience upon my own somewhat too impetuous nature, and enabled me to resist my own inclination to advance. Here have we amused these rebel lords, and the infatuated Prince, in needless marches and counter-marches, while my son has raised the country behind them, and is already at Oxford with an overwhelming force. He, on the one side,--and I on the other, we have them in a net; or, even if they escape from the toils that are around them, our forces united will be irresistible, and we will drive them to fight, to surrender, or to flee the land. Let every noble lord give instant orders in his own quarter of the camp, to make ready for our advance an hour before daylight; and you, my Lord Hugh, must now direct your messenger to lead our friends from Nottingham, by Clebury and Wire Forest, on towards Worcester, keeping a keen look-out for the enemy; but, doubtless, ere they arrive we shall have cleared the country.--You have brought me good tidings," he continued, addressing the messenger, "go to my steward, let him provide for you, and to-morrow a hundred marks shall be your reward.---Now, for a few hours, my lords, good night--good night!" By daybreak the next morning, every tent was struck, and the main body of the army had passed the Lug. De Montfort still advanced with great care and caution, throwing out scouts in all directions, and never making a movement which exposed any part of his force to sudden attack. But not an enemy Wad now to be met with. The whole country, as he advanced towards Worcester, was clear, and it seemed evident to all that Edward had become aware of his danger, and was endeavouring to escape from it. On the evening of St. Peter's day, in the year 1265, De Montfort reached a magnificent country palace of the Bishop of Worcester, called, in the language of the time, "Kemestoia, or Kematow," from which, in all probability, the name Kemsey is derived. It was surrounded by an extensive park, reserved for the chase; and therein, or in a small neighbouring village, the army lodged during the night, while the head-quarters of the general and his royal prisoner were in the manor, or palace of the bishop. The distance from Worcester was only three miles, but still no tidings reached the army of Prince Edward's movements.

Related documents

• The woods#63901
• Lost in the Backwoods: A Tale of the Canadian Forest#34209
• Landscape: Window Overlooking the Woods#498535
• The Romance of the Forest, interspersed with some pieces of poetry.#60470
• Back to the Woods: The Story of a Fall from Grace#37029