Chapter 19 - Chapter Xix How There Was Stir At The Abbey Of St. Andrews
THE prince's reception-room, although of no great size, wasfitted up with all the state and luxury which the fame and powerof its owner demanded. A high dais at the further end was roofedin by a broad canopy of scarlet velvet spangled with silverfleurs-de-lis, and supported at either corner by silver rods.This was approached by four steps carpeted with the samematerial, while all round were scattered rich cushions, orientalmats and costly rugs of fur. The choicest tapestries which thelooms of Arras could furnish draped the walls, whereon thebattles of Judas Maccabaeus were set forth, with the Jewishwarriors in plate of proof, with crest and lance and banderole,as the naive artists of the day were wont to depict them. A fewrich settles and bancals, choicely carved and decorated withglazed leather hangings of the sort termed or basane, completedthe furniture of the apartment, save that at one side of the daisthere stood a lofty perch, upon which a cast of three solemnPrussian gerfalcons sat, hooded and jesseled, as silent andmotionless as the royal fowler who stood beside them.
In the centre of the dais were two very high chairs withdorserets, which arched forwards over the heads of the occupants,the whole covered with light-blue silk thickly powdered withgolden stars. On that to the right sat a very tall and wellformed man with red hair, a livid face, and a cold blue eye,which had in it something peculiarly sinister and menacing. Helounged back in a careless position, and yawned repeatedly asthough heartily weary of the proceedings, stooping from time totime to fondle a shaggy Spanish greyhound which lay stretched athis feet. On the other throne there was perched bolt upright,with prim demeanor, as though he felt himself to be upon hisgood behavior, a little, round, pippin faced person, who smiledand bobbed to every one whose eye he chanced to meet. Betweenand a little in front of them on a humble charette or stool, sata slim, dark young man, whose quiet attire and modest mannerwould scarce proclaim him to be the most noted prince in Europe.A jupon of dark blue cloth, tagged with buckles and pendants ofgold, seemed but a sombre and plain attire amidst the wealth ofsilk and ermine and gilt tissue of fustian with which he wassurrounded. He sat with his two hands clasped round his knee,his head slightly bent, and an expression of impatience and oftrouble upon his clear, well-chiselled features. Behind thethrones there stood two men in purple gowns, with ascetic, clean-shaven faces, and half a dozen other high dignitaries and office-holders of Aquitaine. Below on either side of the steps wereforty or fifty barons, knights, and courtiers, ranged in a triplerow to the right and the left, with a clear passage in thecentre.
"There sits the prince," whispered Sir John Chandos, as theyentered. "He on the right is Pedro, whom we are about to putupon the spanish throne. The other is Don James, whom we purposewith the aid of God to help to his throne in Majorca. Now followme, and take it not to heart if he be a little short in hisspeech, for indeed his mind is full of many very weightyconcerns."
The prince, however, had already observed their entrance, and,springing to his feet, he had advanced with a winning smile andthe light of welcome in his eyes.
"We do not need your good offices as herald here, Sir John," saidhe in a low but clear voice; "these valiant knights are very wellknown to me. Welcome to Aquitaine, Sir Nigel Loring and SirOliver Buttesthorn. Nay, keep your knee for my sweet father atWindsor. I would have your hands, my friends. We are like togive you some work to do ere you see the downs of Hampshire oncemore. Know you aught of Spain, Sir Oliver?"
"Nought, my sire, save that I have heard men say that there is adish named an olla which is prepared there, though I have neverbeen clear in my mind as to whether it was but a ragout such asis to be found in the south, or whether there is some seasoningsuch as fennel or garlic which is peculiar to Spain."
"Your doubts, Sir Oliver, shall soon be resolved," answered theprince, laughing heartily, as did many of the barons whosurrounded them. "His majesty here will doubtless order that youhave this dish hotly seasoned when we are all safely in Castile."
"I will have a hotly seasoned dish for some folk I know of,"answered Don Pedro with a cold smile.
"But my friend Sir Oliver can fight right hardily without eitherbite or sup," remarked the prince. "Did I not see him atPoictiers, when for two days we had not more than a crust ofbread and a cup of foul water, yet carrying himself mostvaliantly. With my own eyes I saw him in the rout sweep the headfrom a knight of Picardy with one blow of his sword."
"The rogue got between me and the nearest French victual wain,"muttered Sir Oliver, amid a fresh titter from those who were nearenough to catch his words.
"How many have you in your train?" asked the prince, assuming agraver mien.
"I have forty men-at-arms, sire," said Sir Oliver.
"And I have one hundred archers and a score of lancers, but thereare two hundred men who wait for me on this side of the waterupon the borders of Navarre."
"And who are they, Sir Nigel?"
"They are a free company, sire, and they are called the WhiteCompany."
To the astonishment of the knight, his words provoked a burst ofmerriment from the barons round, in which the two kings and theprince were fain to join. Sir Nigel blinked mildly from one tothe other, until at last perceiving a stout black-bearded knightat his elbow, whose laugh rang somewhat louder than the others,he touched him lightly upon the sleeve.
"Perchance, my fair sir," he whispered, "there is some small vowof which I may relieve you. Might we not have some honorabledebate upon the matter. Your gentle courtesy may perhaps grantme an exchange of thrusts."
"Nay, nay, Sir Nigel," cried the prince, "fasten not the offenceupon Sir Robert Briquet, for we are one and all bogged in thesame mire. Truth to say, our ears have just been vexed by thedoings of the same company, and I have even now made vow to hangthe man who held the rank of captain over it. I little thoughtto find him among the bravest of my own chosen chieftains. Butthe vow is now nought, for, as you have never seen your company,it would be a fool's act to blame you for their doings."
"My liege," said Sir Nigel, "it is a very small matter that Ishould be hanged, albeit the manner of death is somewhat moreignoble than I had hoped for. On the other hand, it would be avery grievous thing that you, the Prince of England and theflower of knighthood, should make a vow, whether in ignorance orno, and fail to bring it to fulfilment."
"Vex not your mind on that," the prince answered, smiling. "Wehave had a citizen from Montauban here this very day, who told ussuch a tale of sack and murder and pillage that it moved ourblood; but our wrath was turned upon the man who was in authorityover them."
"My dear and honored master," cried Nigel, in great anxiety, "Ifear me much that in your gentleness of heart you are strainingthis vow which you have taken. If there be so much as a shadowof a doubt as to the form of it, it were a thousand times best----"
"Peace! peace!" cried the prince impatiently. "I am very wellable to look to my own vows and their performance. We hope tosee you both in the banquet-hall anon. Meanwhile you will attendupon us with our train." He bowed, and Chandos, plucking SirOliver by the sleeve, led them both away to the back of the pressof courtiers.
"Why, little coz," he whispered, "you are very eager to have yourneck in a noose. By my soul! had you asked as much from our newally Don Pedro, he had not baulked you. Between friends, thereis overmuch of the hangman in him, and too little of the prince.But indeed this White Company is a rough band, and may take somehandling ere you find yourself safe in your captaincy."
"I doubt not, with the help of St. Paul, that I shall bring themto some order," Sir Nigel answered. "But there are many faceshere which are new to me, though others have been before me sincefirst I waited upon my dear master, Sir Walter. I pray you totell me, Sir John, who are these priests upon the dais?"
"The one is the Archbishop of Bordeaux, Nigel, and the other theBishop of Agen."
"And the dark knight with gray-streaked beard? By my troth, heseems to be a man of much wisdom and valor."
"He is Sir William Fenton, who, with my unworthy self, is thechief counsellor of the prince, he being high steward and I theseneschal of Aquitaine."
"And the knights upon the right, beside Von Pedro?"
"They are cavaliers of Spain who have followed him in his exile.The one at his elbow is Fernando de Castro, who is as brave andtrue a man as heart could wish. In front to the right are theGascon lords. You may well tell them by their clouded brows, forthere hath been some ill-will of late betwixt the prince andthem. The tall and burly man is the Captal de Buch, whom I doubtnot that you know, for a braver knight never laid lance in rest.That heavy-faced cavalier who plucks his skirts and whispers inhis ear is Lord Oliver de Clisson, known also as the butcher. Heit is who stirs up strife, and forever blows the dying embersinto flame. The man with the mole upon his cheek is the LordPommers, and his two brothers stand behind him, with the LordLesparre, Lord de Rosem, Lord de Mucident, Sir Perducas d'Albret,the Souldich de la Trane, and others. Further back are knightsfrom Quercy, Limousin, Saintonge, Poitou, and Aquitaine, with thevaliant Sir Guiscard d'Angle. That is he in the rose-coloreddoublet with the ermine."
"And the knights upon this side?"
"They are all Englishmen, some of the household and others wholike yourself, are captains of companies. There is Lord Neville,Sir Stephen Cossington, and Sir Matthew Gourney, with Sir WalterHuet, Sir Thomas Banaster, and Sir Thomas Felton, who is thebrother of the high steward. Mark well the man with the highnose and flaxen beard who hath placed his hand upon the shoulderof the dark hard-faced cavalier in the rust-stained jupon."
"Aye, by St. Paul!" observed Sir Nigel, "they both bear the printof their armor upon their cotes-hardies. Methinks they are menwho breathe freer in a camp than a court."
"There are many of us who do that, Nigel," said Chandos, "and thehead of the court is, I dare warrant, among them. But of thesetwo men the one is Sir Hugh Calverley, and the other is SirRobert Knolles."
Sir Nigel and Sir Oliver craned their necks to have the clearerview of these famous warriors, the one a chosen leader of freecompanies, the other a man who by his fierce valor and energy hadraised himself from the lowest ranks until he was second only toChandos himself in the esteem of the army.
"He hath no light hand in war, hath Sir Robert," said Chandos."If he passes through a country you may tell it for some years tocome. I have heard that in the north it is still the use to calla house which hath but the two gable ends left, without walls orroof, a Knolles' mitre."
"I have often heard of him," said Nigel, "and I have hoped to beso far honored as to run a course with him. But hark, Sir John,what is amiss with the prince?"
Whilst Chandos had been conversing with the two knights acontinuous stream of suitors had been ushered in, adventurersseeking to sell their swords and merchants clamoring over somegrievance, a ship detained for the carriage of troops, or a tunof sweet wine which had the bottom knocked out by a troop ofthirsty archers. A few words from the prince disposed of eachcase, and, if the applicant liked not the judgment, a quickglance from the prince's dark eyes sent him to the door with thegrievance all gone out of him. The younger ruler had satlistlessly upon his stool with the two puppet monarchs enthronedbehind him, but of a sudden a dark shadow passed over his face,and he sprang to his feet in one of those gusts of passion whichwere the single blot upon his noble and generous character.
"How now, Don Martin de la Carra?" he cried. "How now, sirrah?What message do you bring to us from our brother of Navarre?"
The new-comer to whom this abrupt query had been addressed was atall and exceedingly handsome cavalier who had just been usheredinto the apartment. His swarthy cheek and raven black hair spokeof the fiery south, and he wore his long black cloak swathedacross his chest and over his shoulders in a graceful sweepingfashion, which was neither English nor French. With statelysteps and many profound bows, he advanced to the foot of the daisbefore replying to the prince's question.
"My powerful and illustrious master," he began, "Charles, King ofNavarre, Earl of Evreux, Count of Champagne, who also writethhimself Overlord of Bearn, hereby sends his love and greetings tohis dear cousin Edward, the Prince of Wales, Governor ofAquitaine, Grand Commander of----"
"Tush! tush! Don Martin!" interrupted the prince, who had beenbeating the ground with his foot impatiently during this statelypreamble. "We already know our cousin's titles and style, and,certes, we know our own. To the point, man, and at once, Are thepasses open to us, or does your master go back from his wordpledged to me at Libourne no later than last Michaelmas?"
"It would ill become my gracious master, sire, to go back frompromise given. He does but ask some delay and certain conditionsand hostages----"
"Conditions! Hostages! Is he speaking to the Prince of England,or is it to the bourgeois provost of some half-captured town!Conditions, quotha? He may find much to mend in his owncondition ere long. The passes are, then, closed to us?"
"Nay, sire----"
"They are open, then?"
"Nay, sire, if you would but----"
"Enough, enough, Don Martin," cried the prince. "It is a sorrysight to see so true a knight pleading in so false a cause. Weknow the doings of our cousin Charles. We know that while withthe right hand he takes our fifty thousand crowns for the holdingof the passes open, he hath his left outstretched to Henry ofTrastamare, or to the King of France, all ready to take as manymore for the keeping them closed. I know our good Charles, and,by my blessed name-saint the Confessor, he shall learn that Iknow him. He sets his kingdom up to the best bidder, like somescullion farrier selling a glandered horse. He is----"
"My lord," cried Don Martin, "I cannot stand there to hear suchwords of my master. Did they come from other lips, I should knowbetter how to answer them."
Don Pedro frowned and curled his lip, but the prince smiled andnodded his approbation.
"Your bearing and your words, Don Martin, are such I should havelooked for in you," he remarked. "You will tell the king, yourmaster, that he hath been paid his price and that if he holds tohis promise he hath my word for it that no scath shall come tohis people, nor to their houses or gear. If, however, we havenot his leave, I shall come close at the heels of this messagewithout his leave, and bearing a key with me which shall open allthat he may close." He stooped and whispered to Sir RobertKnolles and Sir Huge Calverley, who smiled as men well pleased,and hastened from the room.
"Our cousin Charles has had experience of our friendship," theprince continued, "and now, by the Saints! he shall feel a touchof our displeasure. I send now a message to our cousin Charleswhich his whole kingdom may read. Let him take heed lest worsebefall him. Where is my Lord Chandos? Ha, Sir John, I commendthis worthy knight to your care. You will see that he hathrefection, and such a purse of gold as may defray his charges,for indeed it is great honor to any court to have within it sonoble and gentle a cavalier. How say you, sire?" he asked,turning to the Spanish refugee, while the herald of Navarre wasconducted from the chamber by the old warrior.
"It is not our custom in Spain to reward pertness in amessenger," Don Pedro answered, patting the head of hisgreyhound. "Yet we have all heard the lengths to which yourroyal generosity runs."
"In sooth, yes," cried the King of Majorca.
"Who should know it better than we?" said Don Pedro bitterly,"since we have had to fly to you in our trouble as to the naturalprotector of all who are weak."
"Nay, nay, as brothers to a brother," cried the prince, withsparkling eyes. "We doubt not, with the help of God, to see youvery soon restored to those thrones from which you have been sotraitorously thrust."
"When that happy day comes," said Pedro, "then Spain shall be toyou as Aquitaine, and, be your project what it may, you may evercount on every troop and every ship over which flies the bannerof Castile."
"And," added the other, "upon every aid which the wealth andpower of Majorca can bestow."
"Touching the hundred thousand crowns in which I stand yourdebtor," continued Pedro carelessly, "it can no doubt----"
"Not a word, sire, not a word!" cried the prince. "It is not nowwhen you are in grief that I would vex your mind with such baseand sordid matters. I have said once and forever that I am yourswith every bow-string of my army and every florin in my coffers."
"Ah! here is indeed a mirror of chivalry," said Don Pedro. "Ithink, Sir Fernando, since the prince's bounty is stretched sofar, that we may make further use of his gracious goodness to theextent of fifty thousand crowns. Good Sir William Felton, here,will doubtless settle the matter with you."
The stout old English counsellor looked somewhat blank at thisprompt acceptance of his master's bounty.
"If it please you, sire," he said, "the public funds are at theirlowest, seeing that I have paid twelve thousand men of thecompanies, and the new taxes--the hearth-tax and the wine-tax--not yet come in. If you could wait until the promised help fromEngland comes----"
"Nay, nay, my sweet cousin," cried Don Pedro. "Had we known thatyour own coffers were so low, or that this sorry sum could haveweighed one way or the other, we had been loth indeed----"
"Enough, sire, enough!" said the prince, flushing with vexation."If the public funds be, indeed, so backward, Sir William, thereis still, I trust, my own private credit, which hath never beendrawn upon for my own uses, but is now ready in the cause of afriend in adversity. Go, raise this money upon our own jewels,if nought else may serve, and see that it be paid over to DonFernando."
"In security I offer----" cried Don Pedro.
"Tush! tush!" said the prince. "I am not a Lombard, sire. Yourkingly pledge is my security, without bond or seal. But I havetidings for you, my lords and lieges, that our brother ofLancaster is on his way for our capital with four hundred lancesand as many archers to aid us in our venture. When he hath come,and when our fair consort is recovered in her health, which Itrust by the grace of God may be ere many weeks be past, we shallthen join the army at Dax, and set our banners to the breeze oncemore."
A buzz of joy at the prospect of immediate action rose up fromthe group of warriors. The prince smiled at the martial ardorwhich shone upon every face around him.
"It will hearten you to know," he continued, "that I have sureadvices that this Henry is a very valiant leader, and that he hasit in his power to make such a stand against us as promises togive us much honor and pleasure. Of his own people he hathbrought together, as I learn, some fifty thousand, with twelvethousand of the French free companies, who are, as you know veryvaliant and expert men-at-arms. It is certain also, that thebrave and worthy Bertrand de Guesclin hath ridden into France tothe Duke of Anjou, and purposes to take back with him greatlevies from Picardy and Brittany. We hold Bertrand in highesteem, for he has oft before been at great pains to furnish uswith an honorable encounter. What think you of it, my worthyCaptal? He took you at Cocherel, and, by my soul I you will havethe chance now to pay that score."
The Gascon warrior winced a little at the allusion, nor were hiscountrymen around him better pleased, for on the only occasionwhen they had encountered the arms of France without English aidthey had met with a heavy defeat.
"There are some who say, sire," said the burly De Clisson, "thatthe score is already overpaid, for that without Gascon helpBertrand had not been taken at Auray, nor had King John beenoverborne at Poictiers."
"By heaven! but this is too much," cried an English nobleman."Methinks that Gascony is too small a cock to crow so lustily."
"The smaller cock, my Lord Audley, may have the longer spur,"remarked the Captal de Buch.
"May have its comb clipped if it make over-much noise," broke inan Englishman.
"By our Lady of Rocamadour!" cried the Lord of Mucident, "this ismore than I can abide. Sir John Charnell, you shall answer to mefor those words!"
"Freely, my lord, and when you will," returned the Englishmancarelessly.
"My Lord de Clisson," cried Lord Audley, "you look some, whatfixedly in my direction. By God's soul! I should be right gladto go further into the matter with you."
"And you, my Lord of Pommers," said Sir Nigel, pushing his way tothe front, "it is in my mind that we might break a lance ingentle and honorable debate over the question."
For a moment a dozen challenges flashed backwards and forwards atthis sudden bursting of the cloud which had lowered so longbetween the knights of the two nations. Furious andgesticulating the Gascons, white and cold and sneering theEnglish, while the prince with a half smile glanced from oneparty to the other, like a man who loved to dwell upon a fieryscene, and yet dreaded least the mischief go so far that he mightfind it beyond his control.
"Friends, friends!" he cried at last, "this quarrel must go nofurther. The man shall answer to me, be he Gascon or English,who carries it beyond this room. I have overmuch need for yourswords that you should turn them upon each other. Sir JohnCharnell, Lord Audley, you do not doubt the courage of ourfriends of Gascony?"
"Not I, sire," Lord Audley answered. "I have seen them fight toooften not to know that they are very hardy and valiantgentlemen."
"And so say I," quoth the other Englishman; "but, certes, thereis no fear of our forgetting it while they have a tongue in theirheads."
"Nay, Sir John," said the prince reprovingly, "all peoples havetheir own use and customs. There are some who might call us coldand dull and silent. But you hear, my lords of Gascony, thatthese gentlemen had no thought to throw a slur upon your honor oryour valor, so let all anger fade from your mind. Clisson,Captal, De Pommers, I have your word?"
"We are your subjects, sire," said the Gascon barons, though withno very good grace. "Your words are our law."
"Then shall we bury all cause of unkindness in a flagon ofMalvoisie," said the prince, cheerily. "Ho, there! the doors ofthe banquet-hall! I have been over long from my sweet spouse butI shall be back with you anon. Let the sewers serve and theminstrels play, while we drain a cup to the brave days that arebefore us in the south!" He turned away, accompanied by the twomonarchs, while the rest of the company, with many a compressedlip and menacing eye, filed slowly through the side-door to thegreat chamber in which the royal tables were set forth.