CHAPTER XXIV.

THE ACQUITTAL.

No ceremony that to great ones 'longs,

Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword,

The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe,

Become them with one half so good a grace

As "justice" does.

MEASURE FOR MEASURE.

Then was called Ralph Brito.

He, being sworn, deposed thus--Is a man-at-arms of Sir Foulke d'Oilly;

has served him these twenty years and over, in France, in Wales, and

in Ireland. Has dwelt the last ten years, until this year now current,

at Sir Foulke's castle of Fenton in the Forest; since the decease of

Sir Philip de Morville, has been one of the garrison of Waltheofstow.

Knows Eadwulf the Red perfectly well--as well as his own brother. Has

known him these ten years back, when he was gross thrall to Sir Philip

de Morville. Has seen him since the death of Sir Philip. Has seen him

daily, since he made one of the garrison of Waltheofstow, until the

twelfth day of September last, when he saw him for the last time,

until he was taken in the cottage on Kentmere. The person at the bar

is the man. The person at the bar is Eadwulf the Red, and is also the

man who was taken at the cottage. They are the same. Did not follow

the prisoner with the bloodhounds; came up, with my lord, the day

after the accident on the sands. Was engaged in the pursuit till he

was taken; was present at the arrest. The weapons in court were taken

in the prisoner's house; took them down himself, from above the

mantle-piece. The prisoner admitted them to be his weapons.

Matthew Gourlay, cross-examining, asked him--"You swear, certainly,

that the man at the bar is _he_, known, in the time of Sir Philip

de Morville, as Eadwulf the Red?"

"I do."

"Of your own knowledge?"

"Of my own knowledge."

"Why was he called the Red?"

"Because he _was_ red."

"What part of him?"

"His hair and beard."

"Of what color are your own hair and beard?"

"Red."

It so happened that the close-curled hair and the beard, knotted like

the wool of a poodle dog, of this man, were of the brightest and most

fiery hue of which the human hair is susceptible; while that of Kenric

was of a deep, glossy auburn, falling in loose waves from a broad fair

forehead.

"And what color is the person's at the bar?"

"Why, reddish, I suppose," said Ralph Brito, sullenly.

"About the same color with your own, ha? Well, you may go down," he

said, satisfied that he had somewhat damaged the evidence, even of

this positive perjurer.

Andrew of Spyinghow was then called, and, being sworn, testified, that

"he is the brother of Ralph Wetheral, the bailiff of Waltheofstow, who

was found dead in the forest of Sherwood, on the 13th day of September

last passed; and of Hugonet the Black, seneschal of Waltheofstow, as

aforesaid, who was lost in the sands of Lancaster, on the 17th day of

the said month. He and his brothers were known as the three spears of

Spyinghow. He knew the serf, spoken of as Eadwulf the Red, as well as

he knew his own face in the mirror. Had known him any time the last

ten years, as serf, both to Sir Philip de Morville, and to his own

lord, Sir Foulke d'Oilly. Had seen him last on the night of September

the 12th, in the castle court at Waltheofstow; but had tracked him

thence with bloodhounds to the verge of Borland Forest; had followed

him by hue and cry across the moors to the sands of Morecambe Bay; had

seen the fugitive crossing the bay; had seen him land on the

Westmoreland shore, nor ever had lost the track of him, until he saw

him taken in the cottage at Kentmere. The prisoner at the bar is the

man." The witness then proceeded at length to describe the discovery

of the slain stag, and the murdered bailiff, the manner of their

deaths, the weapons found in the mortal wounds both of the beast and

the man, and of the taking up of the scent of the fugitive from the

spot where the double killing had taken place, by the bloodhounds.

Here Thomas de Curthose said--"This is a case we are trying, in this

court of common pleas, of neifty, _de nativo habendo_; not a case

of deer-slaying, in a forest court, or of murder, in a criminal court.

Therefore, this evidence, as irrelevant, and tending to prejudice the

jury against the prisoner, should be ruled out."

Geoffrey Fitz Peter said; "This testimony goeth only to prove the

weapons, which were carried and used by the fugitive, be he who he

may, at that place and that time stated, to be the same with those

found in possession of the person at the bar, and owned by him to be

his property. And this testimony we propose to use, in order to show

that the person at the bar was actually at the place at the time

stated as aforesaid, and is the very fugitive in question; not that he

is the killer of the deer, or the murderer of the man, which it is not

in the province of this court, or in our purpose to examine."

Sir Ranulf de Glanville said--"To prove the identity of the person at

the bar with the alleged fugitive, this evidence standeth good, but

not otherwise."

His examination being resumed, the witness described, vividly and

accurately, the pursuit of the fugitive with bloodhounds; his

superhuman efforts to escape, both by speed of foot and by power of

swimming; his wonderful endurance, and, at last, his vanishing, as it

were, without leaving a single trace, either for sight or scent, in

the midst of a bare moor. Great sympathy and excitement were

manifested throughout the whole court, at this graphic narrative; and

all eyes were turned, especially those of the fair sex, to the fine

athletic person and noble features of Kenric, as he stood at the bar,

alone of all that company, impassive and unmoved, with looks of pity

and admiration.

But Kenric only shook his head, with a grave smile and a quiet wafture

of the hand, as if putting aside the undeserved sympathy.

But when the witness proceeded to describe the rediscovery of the

fugitive crossing the sands, on the second morning after his temporary

evasion, the desperate race against the speed of mortal horses,

against the untamed velocity of the foam-crested coursers of the

roaring ocean tide; when he depicted the storm bursting in the

darkness, as of night, over the mailed riders and barbed horses

struggling in the pools and quagmires; the fierce billows trampling

over them, amid the tempest and the gloom; and the sun shining out on

the face of the waters, and lo! there were none there, save Hugonet

the Black, sitting motionless on his armed horse like a statue, until

it should please the mounting tide to overwhelm him, from which he

could by no earthly means escape, and the fugitive slave floating, in

his chance-found coracle, within two oars' length of that devoted man,

the excitement in the vast assembly knew no bounds. There were wild

cries and sobs, and the multitude rocked and heaved to and fro, and

several women swooned, and were carried out of the courthouse

insensible, and seemingly lifeless. It was many minutes before order

could be restored.

Then the bolts or quarrels, which had been extracted from the

slaughtered deer and the murdered man were produced in court, yet

stained with the blood, and bearing the name of Kenric branded upon

the wooden shafts with an iron stamp. The crossbow and bolts, found in

Kenric's cottage, and admitted by him to be his property, were also

produced, and the quarrels found in the forest tallied from point to

point, even to a broken letter in the branding, with those which he

acknowledged to be his; and an expert armorer being summoned,

testified that those quarrels were proper ones for that very arbalast,

and would not fit one other out of twenty, it being of unusual

construction.

At this point, not a person in the court, from the lowest spectator to

the high justiciary on the bench, but believed the case to be entirely

made out; and some of the crown lawyers whispered among themselves,

wondering why the prisoner had not been arraigned in the forest or

criminal courts, for the higher offenses, which seemed to be proved

against him.

Thomas de Curthose, cross-examining the witness, asked--

"The man at the bar is Eadwulf the Red?"

"He is."

"On your oath, and of your own knowledge."

"On my oath, and of my own knowledge."

"Did you ever hear that 'Eadwulf the Red' should call himself, or be

called by others, 'Kenric.'"

"Never, until now."

"And how have you heard it now?"

"I have seen it stamped on his quarrels."

"Had 'Eadwulf the Red' a brother?"

"A brother?"

"Had 'Eadwulf the Red' a brother?"

"I have heard say he had."

"Of your own knowledge, on your oath?"

"He had a brother."

"What was his name?"

"I--I have forgotten."

"On your oath! on your oath, sirrah!" thundered Thomas de Curthose.

"Was not his name 'Kenric?'"

"I think it was 'Kenric.'"

"Look at the person at the bar." The man did so; but reluctantly, and

with an evident tremor.

"Is not that man 'Kenric,' the brother of 'Eadwulf the Red?'"

"That man is 'Eadwulf the Red'--I have sworn it."

"And art forsworn, in swearing it. But again, thou hast sworn, 'that

on the third morning, after taking scent of the fugitive from the

place of the deer and manslaying, and after hunting him constantly

with bloodhounds, you lost all track of him on the bare moor in

Borland Forest?'"

"Why, ay! I have sworn that; it is quite true," said the man,

seemingly reassured, at the change of the line of examination.

"I doubt it not. Now, when did the hounds take the scent again?"

"Why, not at all. We saw he was making for the sands, and so

squandered ourselves in parties, and on the second morning, at

daybreak, saw him crossing them."

"How far off was he, when you saw him?"

"About three miles."

"Could you see, to know him, at that distance?"

"Why, no; but we guessed it was he, when we saw him run from us; and,

when we wound up the clew to the end, and caught him, we found that we

were right."

"You may stand down. Who is next?"

Four other witnesses followed, who all swore positively to the person

of the prisoner, as "Eadwulf the Red," and testified to various points

in the circumstances of the pursuit and capture, all tending to the

identification of Kenric with the fugitive; and though the counsel for

the defense had succeeded, more or less, in shaking the credit of some

of the witnesses with the jury, and of raising a doubt concerning the

existence of a brother, with whom the fugitive might have been

confounded, no head had yet been made against the direct testimony of

six witnesses, swearing positively to his person, and against the

damaging circumstantial evidence of the crossbow and quarrels.

When the counsel for the plaintiff rested, and the court adjourned at

ten o'clock, for dinner, not a lawyer in the court, except those

retained in the defense, but looked on the case of Kenric as hopeless;

and the party of Sir Foulke d'Oilly were consequently in high glee.

But when the court reassembled, at noon, Walter Gourlay arose, and

addressed the six judges--

"May it please your lordships, we shall right shortly prove to your

satisfaction and to that of this honorable jury that this case lies in

a nutshell, or rather is no case at all, or shadow of a case. First,

we shall show to you that this person at the bar is not, nor ever was

called, 'Eadwulf the Red,' though there may be some slight similarity

of person between him and his brother, of that name; but that he is,

and has been called from his cradle to this day, 'Kenric the Dark.'

Secondly, we shall show you that this 'Kenric the Dark' was not in

Sherwood Forest, or within fifty miles of it, on the 13th day of

September last passed, or on any day within two months thereof.

Thirdly, we shall show you that this 'Kenric the Dark' is not serf or

villeyn to Sir Foulke d'Oilly, or to any Sir in England; but a free

man, and free tenant of the Lord of Kendal, in the county of

Westmoreland."

Then William of Tichborne, said--"Nay! Brother Gourlay, do not prove

too much against us," and he laughed sneeringly; "else thou wilt

convict our witnesses as mansworn."

And Thomas de Curthose laughed, and said--"Marry will we, and pillory

them for it, likewise."

Then the defense called Bertha, the wife of Werewulf; and an

exceedingly old woman was supported into court, by a younger woman of

exceeding beauty; and, in consideration of her age and infirmities,

she was accommodated with a seat. She was very feeble, and much

emaciated, and her hair was as white as snow; but her figure, though

frail and quivering, was erect as a weather-beaten pine, and her eye

as clear as an eagle's.

"Well, mother, and who art thou?" asked the justiciary, in a kindly

tone, "and what hast thou to tell us in this matter?"

"I am Bertha," she replied, in tones singularly clear and distinct,

"the wife of Werewulf, the son of Beowulf, who was henchman to

Waltheof, who was the Lord of Waltheofstow, before the Normans came to

England."

"A serf to testify in proof of a serf's liberty!" said William of

Tichborne. "Such evidence may not stand."

"She is no serf, my lord," said Gourlay, "but as free as my brother of

Tichborne. Let the Sheriff of Lancaster be sworn."

So, Sir Yvo de Taillebois being sworn in his place, testified:

"Bertha, the wife of Werewulf, is a free woman. I bought her myself,

with her own free consent, of my friend Sir Philip de Morville, and

manumitted her, for reasons of mine own."

"Let Bertha proceed."

"I am the mother of seven sons, in lawful wedlock born; five of whom,

and three grandsons, sleep with their fathers, in the kirkyard of

Waltheofstow; two, as I believe, yet draw the breath of life, biding

God's good time; 'Kenric the Dark,' my second born, and 'Eadwulf the

Red,' my youngest. Kenric stands yonder, at the bar; Eadwulf is a

wanderer on the moorland."

Being cross-examined; "Would she know her sons any where; would she

know them apart?"

"Know my own sons!" she made answer; "the flesh of my own flesh, the

bone of my own bone! By day or by night, in darkness or in light, by

the lowest sound of the voice, by the least pressure of the hand, by

the feeling of their hair, or the smell of their breath, would I know

them, and know them apart, any where. Yon is Kenric, and Kenric is no

more like to Eadwulf, than day is to darkness, or a bright summer

sunshine to a thunder-cloud in autumn."

"Call Aradas de Ratcliffe."

He, being sworn, was asked;

"Know you the person at the bar; and, if ay, what is his name?"

"I know him well; his name is Kenric; his condition, so far as I know,

a freeman, and verdurer to Sir Yvo de Taillebois."

"When did you see him first, to know him?"

"In July last, when my Lord of Taillebois returned from Yorkshire, and

brought him along in his train."

"Have you seen him in the mean time; and, if ay, how often."

"Almost daily. He is one of our best foresters, and we rarely hunt or

hawk without him."

"Can you name any one day, in particular, when you saw the person at

the bar, between July and October, to know him?"

"I can. On the 12th day of last September, at eight o'clock in the

evening, we being then at supper, Kenric came into the hall, by

permission, to bring tidings that he had tracked the great

mouse-colored hart-royal, which has been known in the dales this

hundred years, into a deep dingle at the head of Yewdale, and that he

was laid up for the night. On the 13th, we were astir before day, and

Kenric led us to the lair; and we hunted that hart all day long on the

13th, and killed him at sunset on the skirts of Skiddaw. We had to

pass the night on the mountain, and I well remember how Kenric was the

best man in collecting firing and making all things comfortable for

the night, it being cold, and a keen white frost."

Being cross-examined--"I know it was on the 12th that he brought the

tidings, because my rents fall due on that day at Rydal Manor, and I

had ridden over to collect them, and returned home somewhat late for

supper, and had just sat down to table, very hungry, when he came in

with the news of the great hart-royal; and that spoiled my supper, for

the thought of killing that hart on the morrow took away all my

appetite."

"And did you kill him, sir?" asked Sir Ranulf de Glanville from the

bench, eagerly; for if he were famous as a lawyer, he was little less

so as a woodman.

"With a cloth-yard shaft from my own bow, Sir Ranulf, at twenty score

yards and thirteen."

"Well, sir, it was a very pretty shot," returned the high justiciary,

nothing abashed by the smile which ran through the court; "and you

have given very pretty evidence. Have you any more witnesses, Master

Gourlay? Methinks the jury have had almost enough of this."

"We will detain your lordships but a very little longer, William Fitz

Adhelm."

And he knew Kenric well, and remembered his services particularly on

that 13th day of September; and, to prove the date, he produced a

record of the chase, carved on ivory, which was hung from the antlers

of that celebrated deer, in the great hall at Hawkshead Castle,

recording the length of the hunt, the dogs and horses engaged, and all

the circumstances of the great event.

The bailiff of Kendal was then called, who swore that he knew Kenric,

as forester and verdurer, since July last, and that he had seen him

since that date almost daily; for that three days had never passed

without his bringing him game for his guest-table, according to the

orders of his lord.

"And here," said Thomas de Curthose, "we might safely rest, stating

merely, in explanation, that the true 'Eadwulf the Red,' brother of

the person at the bar, did, we believe, all the things stated by the

witnesses to this court, and did leave, at the cottage on Kentmere,

the crossbow produced before the court, which he had previously

purloined from his brother, while at Waltheofstow. But desiring to

place this man's freedom on record beyond a question or a

peradventure, we will call Sir Yvo de Taillebois."

He, of course, testified to all that is known to the readers of this

history, and which was not known to the jury or the court; to his own

agency, namely, in the purchase and manumission of the serf Kenric,

and to his establishment of him as a free tenant on his lands of

Kentmere, in Kendal.

"And here we rest," said Thomas of Curthose, "nor shall trouble the

court so much as to sum up what is so palpable."

The complainants declining to say any thing farther, Ranulf de

Glanville said--

"It is scarce necessary that I should say any thing to this jury,

seeing that if the evidence of Sir Yvo de Taillebois be received as

credible, the case is at an end. But I would say that, without his

testimony, the defense might have rested safely, when they had shown

that the alleged fugitive, 'Kenric,' was a resident here in

Westmoreland, on the day, and long before the day, when he is charged

on oath to have been a serf in Yorkshire. For if A claim a horse, now

in the possession of B, swearing, and bring in witnesses to swear,

that he, A, lost, or had stolen from him, the said horse, on such a

day; and B bring sufficient and true witnesses to satisfy the jury

that the said horse, so claimed was in his, B's, possession, days,

weeks, or months before the 'such a day' on which A avers to have lost

or had the said horse stolen from him--then it is to be presumed, not

that A and his witnesses are mistaken as to the day, on which the

horse was lost, seeing that he and they have sworn positively to the

day, and that it is in him and them, alone, and on no others, truly to

know the day on which the said horse was lost or stolen--but that the

horse is another horse altogether, and not that horse lost or stolen

on the day averred; inasmuch as this horse claimed was, on that day,

and theretofore and thereafter, standing here, and could not therefore

be lost or stolen elsewhere. This is the law, gentlemen, of an ox, or

an ass, or a goat, or a piece of furniture, or of any thing that is

property, dead or living. Much more so, therefore, of the liberty of a

man. For God forbid that on this earth of England the liberty of a

man, which is even the dearest thing he hath on earth, should be more

lightly jeoparded, or less securely guaranteed to him, than the value

of his ox, or his ass, or his goat, or his chattel, whatsoever it may

be, that is claimed of him. And now, gentlemen of the jury, I will

detain you no longer. You may retire, if you wish to deliberate on

your verdict, whether the person at the bar be 'Eadwulf the Red,'

gross thrall of Sir Foulke d'Oilly, or 'Kenric the Dark,' and a true

freeman."

"So please the court, we are agreed," was the unanimous answer of the

jurymen.

"And how will you render your verdict?"

"By our foreman, Sir Ralph Egerton, of Egerton."

"We find," said the foreman, in answer to the eye of the justiciary,

"that the person at the bar, 'Kenric, surnamed the Dark,' is a free

man, and that Sir Foulke d'Oilly hath no claim against his liberty or

person. And we farther recommend that the witnesses for the plaintiff,

more especially Ralph Brito, and Andrew of Spyinghow, be taken into

custody, and held to answer to a charge of perjury."

"You have said well, gentlemen, and I thank you for your verdict,"

said the justiciary. "Clerk of the court, record the verdict; and see

that warrants issue against Ralph de Brito and Hugh of Spyinghow.

Kenric, thou art free; free of all charge against thee; free to walk

boldly and uprightly before God; and, so far as you do no wrong, to

turn aside for fear of no man. Go, and thank God, therefore, that you

are born on English soil, where every man is held free, till he is

proved a slave; and where no man can be delivered into bondage, save

on the verdict of a jury of his countrymen. This is the law of

England. God save the King. Amen!"

Then, turning to Sir Yvo de Taillebois, "You brought that fellow off

with flying colors! Now, you will sup with me, at my lodgings, at

nine. My brothers of the bench will be with us, and my lord high

constable, and the earl mareschal; and we will have a merry time of

it. They have choice oysters here, and some lampreys; and that boar's

head, and the venison you sent us, are superb. You will come, of

course."

"With pleasure," said De Taillebois, "but"--and he whispered something

in his ear.

"Ha! do you fear so? I think not; but we will provide for all chances;

and, in good time, here comes Clarencieux. Ho! Clarencieux, sup with

us, at nine to-night; and, look you, we shall want Sir Foulke d'Oilly

in court to-morrow. I do not think that he will give us the slip; but,

lest he try it, let two of your pursuivants and a dozen halberdiers

keep their eye on him till the court sits in the morning; and if he

offer to escape, arrest him without scruple, and have him to the

constable's lodging. Meantime, forget not nine of the clock, in my

lodgings."

Wager of Battle: A Tale of Saxon Slavery in Sherwood Forest · 第 24 / 27 章