_THE FIRST DAY._
The lads slept soundly in their new quarters, but awoke with the first
light of day, eager to enter upon the strange life of the city. Making
their way first to the top of the wall, they had a good look round them
over the still sleeping town; and then finding a place where, by the
exercise of a little activity, they could clamber down on the outer
side, they refreshed themselves by a plunge in the Fish Ponds, by way of
ablutions, and returned through the gate to their lodging.
They had a great curiosity to go forth together and see the city, but
they did not intend immediately to decide upon the preceptor they should
follow. Just at starting they felt almost too excited to settle to
regular study, and the visit to the Abbot of Osney was the first
business of the day.
Putting on their better habits, and making themselves as trim and neat
as circumstances permitted, the boys sallied forth, and took the way to
Carfax as before. They knew that Osney lay to the west of the city wall,
beyond the Castle, and they had a great wish to see that building at
close quarters; so they pursued their way along Great Bayly Street, till
they reached the mound itself, crowned with its frowning walls and
battlements.
As they passed along they saw not only numbers of clerks sallying forth
to their daily lectures, but great numbers of the Black Friars, who
appeared to be exercising considerable activity. Some were wheeling
little trucks or carts which held loads of what appeared to be goods and
chattels, and they appeared to be very busy, passing to and fro with
their loads or their empty trucks, like a colony of industrious ants.
"What are they doing?" asked Jack of a bystander.
"Removing themselves from the Jewry to the new House that the King's
Majesty has bestowed upon them without the city walls through Little
Gate and down Milk Street," was the answer. "They came and settled in
the Jews' quarter, hoping to convert the Hebrew dogs to the true faith;
but methinks they have but a sorry record of converts. Anyhow they are
going thence, and their new house is all but ready. A few may linger on
in the Jewry, but the most part will fare forth to the more commodious
building yonder."
Having thus satisfied their curiosity on that score, the boys passed
onwards to the Castle, and just as they approached the West Gate, they
were in time to prevent something of a catastrophe. As they drew near,
they perceived that a young lady, mounted on a fair palfrey, was
approaching from the outer side. She was quite young, perhaps fifteen or
sixteen, and was very fair to look upon. Her hair was a dusky chestnut
colour, and was loosened by the exercise of riding, so that it framed
her face like a soft cloud. Her eyes were bright and soft and dark, and
her figure was as light and graceful as that of a sylph. As the two lads
passed under the gateway, marking her approach, they bared their heads,
and glanced at her with honest admiration in their eyes.
The little lady noticed their salutation, and returned it with a gentle
dignity of manner; but just at that moment a piece of rag lying in the
gutter was suddenly whirled round and up by a gust of wind, right
against the face of the spirited little barb she was riding.
The creature suddenly took fright, reared up on its hind legs, and then
made a sudden swerve, dashing off along West Gate Street at a headlong
pace.
But luckily the girl rider was not borne away too in this reckless
fashion. When the creature started and reared so violently, she had been
almost unseated; and Leofric, seeing this, had with one quick movement
thrown his arm about her; and as soon as the palfrey swerved and made
off, the lady was simply lifted from her seat and gently set down by the
strong arms of both lads--for Jack had rushed up to give assistance.
She stood now in the roadway, dazed, but safe, looking from one of her
preservers to the other, and faltering out broken words of thanks.
Then the servant who had been behind, and who had in vain striven to
stop the runaway horse, rode up, lifted the little lady to his saddle,
and carried her away, before she had sufficiently recovered her breath
to do more than wave her hand to her two deliverers.
The sentry at the gate, who had now come up, looked after them with a
laugh.
"Old Ralph is a grim guardian. He will never let his young mistress have
speech of any. But I doubt not when it comes to the ears of the
Constable, he will seek you out to reward you; for fair Mistress Alys is
as the apple of his eye."
"Who was the lady?" asked Jack eagerly.
"Mistress Alys de Kynaston, only daughter of the Constable of the
Castle, Sir Humphrey de Kynaston. They say she is the very light of the
house, and I can well believe it."
After a little more talk about the Castle and its Custodian, the sentry
directed the lads how to find Osney Abbey; and after crossing
Bookbinders' Bridge and passing the Almshouses, they quickly approached
the gate by which access was had to the Abbey itself.
It was a fine building, inhabited by the Canons Regular of St.
Augustine. There were the Chapel, dedicated to St. Nicholas, the fine
cloistered refectory, the Dormitory, the Abbot's Lodging, to say nothing
of the fine kitchens, and the Domus Dei of which mention has been made.
The present Abbot was Richard de Appelton, and when Leofric presented
his letter and asked speech of him, he was ushered into the presence of
the great man with very little delay.
Strangers, even youthful strangers, were always received hospitably at
the religious houses, and the Abbot, after reading the letter of his
friend, spoke kindly to the boys, asking them whether they desired the
shelter of the Domus Dei.
Leofric explained what had befallen him since that letter was penned,
and how he had met with kind friends, and had already found a lodging
within the walls of the town. The Abbot stroked his shaven chin, and
looked from Jack to Leofric, letting his eyes rest somewhat longer upon
the face of the latter as he said,----
"So thou art not as yet disposed to the religious life? Yet thou hast
the face of a godly youth."
"I trust we may yet be godly without the cloister wall," answered
Leofric modestly. "It is not for roistering and revelry that we have
chosen to live within the town, but we would fain have some small spot
that we may call our own, and I had thought that perchance I might turn
such skill as I have in penmanship to account, so that I might earn fees
for----"
"Ah yes, I know what thou wouldst say. Perchance we can give thee some
work of that kind from time to time. But there be other ways of winning
money too, open to poor clerks. Thou canst say a prayer or a grace at
some rich man's table, or the Chancellor will give thee a licence to beg
for thy maintenance. A likely youth, with a face like thine, will not
find living hard. And if thou art ever in any trouble, thou canst always
come to me. The Domus Dei is open to such as thou, and any son who comes
from my good friend the Prior of St. Michael will be welcome for his
sake."
Leofric thanked the Abbot gratefully, and received from him a small
present in money, and two or three squares of vellum, such as were used
in the making of breviaries. This was a very great acquisition for
Leofric, as he could now begin some illuminating or transcribing work in
his leisure hours, and by the sale of this add to their scanty store of
money, and obtain the material for fresh work of a like kind.
This he preferred greatly to begging, notwithstanding that mendicancy
had been made respectable, if not honourable, by the friars, and that to
give alms to a poor clerk, or reward him for singing a "Salve Regina,"
or saying a prayer or grace, was one of the regular and esteemed forms
of charity.
"And remember, good lads, that there are homes in the city open to such
as ye," said the Abbot, as he bid them adieu. "There is Glasson Hall in
the High Street, which pious John Pilet gave to Osney Abbey not long
since. We might find room for the pair of you there, if you were
disturbed in your nest. There is Spalding Court in Cat Street, which the
burgesses of the town have bought for the use of poor clerks; and there
be Halls where the poorer clerks serve the wealthier, and earn a
pittance thus. Ye will find many ways of living; and pray Heaven we have
a good harvest this year, so that the present scarcity may cease."
And with a nod and a word of blessing the Abbot dismissed his young
guests.
"Let us take a prowl round the town," said Jack, as they turned their
backs upon the stately buildings of the Abbey, "there is so much to see
at every turn, and I would fain know the streets and lanes of the city
by heart. We must enter by the West Gate that we left, but we will
wander round the walls and see what lies in the south ward of the city."
Leofric willingly agreed, and they retraced their steps as far as the
gate, where they were at once hailed by the same sentry as had spoken to
them before.
"Fortune favours you, honest lads," he said. "The Constable of the
Castle has just sent down this purse, to be given to the two clerks who
saved the Mistress Alys from hurt when her palfrey took fright," and he
put into the hands of Jack a small leathern satchel, in which were a
goodly number of silver pieces.
"Now this is luck indeed!" cried the youth, as they took their way
onward. "We meet with success at every turn. Methinks that either thou
or I must have been born beneath a lucky star."
But they had little time for discussing their good luck, for almost
immediately they found themselves in the heart of the Grey Friars'
colony, which lay close to the West Gate, just where there was a gap in
the city wall, probably owing to the proximity of a marshy tract which
rendered the protection of the wall of comparatively little use. Trill
Mill Stream wound round the little colony, and formed its southern
limit. The parish was that of St. Ebbs, perhaps the poorest in Oxford.
This was doubtless why the Minorites, or Grey Friars, had made of it
their headquarters. To dwell among the poor, and to live as poorly as
any of them, was their principle and practice; and down in these
low-lying, swampy districts, fever, ague, even leprosy abounded, and the
Friars toiled with might and main amongst the sick.
The boys saw them going forth by twos and threes, or passing in and out
of their low, poverty-stricken buildings. It was against the desires of
their founder that they should ever possess property or aspire to
learning; but the practical inconvenience of the one prohibition, and
the thirst for knowledge which was growing up in the hearts of men at
this time, militated against the strict code of St. Francis.
The Franciscans made their houses as simple and unpretentious as
possible. They lived the most self-denying of lives; but they were
beginning to frequent the schools, and to teach in schools of their own,
and although there were often drawbacks and difficulties placed in the
way of their advancement, they had already many great and notable
scholars in their ranks.
The main difficulty was that by statute no one might begin in theology
who had not first taken a degree in Arts, whilst the vows and rules of
the monks and friars debarred them in many cases from any sort of
secular studies. They were so well qualified to lecture in theology that
it was often difficult to refuse their plea; and yet the statutes stood
in the way.
As the boys reached the corner of Milk Street, they observed a
Franciscan Friar of venerable aspect coming towards them, and
instinctively Leofric bent the knee as if to ask a blessing.
The old man stood still, and smiled benignly. It was one of the
characteristics of the Grey Friars that, in spite of the self-denial and
austerity of their lives, they were more uniformly cheerful, kindly, and
even merry in their talk and ways than any other of the religious
orders. For this reason, perhaps, they were beloved above others; and
the great ones of the world, as well as the poor, came to love and
venerate them.
"Peace be with you, my children," said the Friar. "Come you as strangers
to this city? Methinks you have the air of the country clinging to you
yet."
"We did but arrive yesterday," answered Leofric; "and we have scarce the
right to call ourselves clerks. But that is what we hope to be soon, so
as we can make up our minds where we shall gain the best learning for
such fee as our purse will enable us to give."
"You must needs first study the _Trivium_ and _Quadrivium_ of Arts,"
said the Friar, when he had questioned them a little more as to their
intended manner of life; "but since I hold that no learning is complete
that doth not embrace the study of the Word of God, come ye both, if it
please you and ye have time, to the school of our order, where I strive
to impart a few crumbs of knowledge to our clerks and younger brethren.
Many lads like ye twain come without fee, and glad shall I be if any
poor words of mine can give help or comfort."
The boys would have stammered out some words of thanks, but the Friar
put them aside with a smile.
"Nay, nay, lads, we are sent here not for our own but for others' good.
Ask for the School of the Franciscans, and for Brother Angelus. Most
mornings from nine till eleven I am to be found there. You will be
welcome. Go in peace."
"We will of a surety go," said Leofric, as they pursued their way. "He
had the face of a saint. I trow that this is a right godly place. We get
kindness from all we meet."
"Methinks it is thy face that wins it for us," quoth Jack, with a laugh;
"thou hast somewhat the face of a saint thyself."
There was some shrewd truth in this remark. Leofric's was a countenance
that could not but attract; and at that time there were such numbers of
rude, rough, ill-mannered and ill-living clerks in the place, that
favourable notice was often bestowed upon such as appeared of gentler
nature and manners. All the religious brotherhoods were more or less on
the look-out for likely pupils, and though the more enlightened of their
members would not put pressure upon lads to make too early a choice of
the cloister life, or of that of the friars, they gladly recruited their
ranks from such promising students and clerks as they succeeded in
drawing beneath their influence.
As the boys stood looking down Milk Street, they continued to see the
Black Friars flitting busily to and fro, fetching and carrying their
simple goods and chattels; and prompted by curiosity, they turned into
the Jewry, and were soon gazing with the greatest interest at the Jewish
denizens of that quarter.
The Jews had had a footing in Oxford from the very early days; they had
a synagogue in Fish Street, nearly opposite to St. Aldate's Church. (It
may be noted that the old Fish Street is the present St. Aldate's.) They
were, of course, the most moneyed class in the city, and they had their
own code and manner of life, were exempt from the operation of the
common law, and were treated as serfs of the King. Had it not been that
the Kings protected them from pillage by their neighbours, in order to
plunder them themselves, the Jews would scarcely have continued to
exist. The people hated and feared them, even whilst they borrowed from
them at a rate of usury limited by statute. But they were too valuable
to the Crown to be exterminated, and the Black Friars had settled
amongst them in the hope of effecting their conversion.
For many years they had considerable success, so much so that the King
established a house called the Guild Hall for the reception of the
baptized Hebrews. It was not really their lack of success (although
fewer conversions had taken place of late) but lack of room which
occasioned the flitting of the Black Friars from the Jewry. They were
not all of them leaving immediately, even now; but their new building
was almost complete, and a number of the brothers were about to take
their departure, hence the excitement prevailing in the locality of the
Jewry.
When the lads had gazed their fill at the strange dress and dark faces
of the Jews, and had listened to their talk, and their covert jests as
they secretly derided the Christian brothers who had dwelt so long
amongst them, they turned southward down Fish Street, and then by St.
Frideswyde's Street to the great group of beautiful and ancient
buildings comprising St. Frideswyde's Church and Abbey--the oldest in
Oxford--occupying the site where Christ Church now stands.
Grave, stately looking men walked with slow, meditative steps about the
enclosure in which stood those buildings. They were habited in a long
white coat of cloth down to the heels, girt about with a leather girdle;
over this was a short surplice of linen, and over that again a short
black cape that reached to the elbows. On their shaven heads they wore a
black square steepled cap. These were the Canons Regular of St.
Augustine--the same order as those of Osney.
Here again the walls were broken down, and had crumbled to decay, groves
and meadows and fish ponds extending southward to Trill Mill Stream. The
boys looked about them in silent wonder, but nobody addressed them; and
though they would have liked to steal into the church and see St.
Frideswyde's shrine, they did not venture to do so, fearing that they
would be regarded as intruders in that sacred place.
"Hugh le Barbier was telling me of notable miracles done at yon shrine,"
said Leofric, as they turned away at length up St. Frideswyde's Lane.
"St. Frideswyde was a daughter of an ancient king, and she built a
nunnery here, and was herself a nun. Afterwards it became a place for
monks, and now it is an Abbey; but the shrine of St. Frideswyde still
remains, and great wonders are wrought there."
"Hark!" suddenly cried Jack, whose ears had been more attentive to some
sound in the distance than to his companion's words, "I hear the noise
of a tumult. There is something stirring not far off. Let us e'en run
and see what it be. Methinks I hear the sound of blows and shouts."
Leofric heard the same sound which had attracted Jack's attention. It
seemed to proceed from a short distance off, and they hurried along till
they reached the corner of Great Jewry Lane where it joins Shydyard
Street (now Oriel Street), where the shouting began to take more
articulate form, and the boys heard the words, "North, North!--South,
South!" bawled and yelled from scores of throats.
"It is some fray betwixt the clerks," said Jack, who had not listened
for naught to Gilbert's tales during the night they camped by the fire
in the forest. "Did he not tell us that they were banded into two or
more great bodies, North and South, and that they were ofttimes coming
to blows together? Haply we had better stand close in this doorway, and
let the rout go by. Clerks are killed by their fellows in the open
streets every year, if what we hear be true, for nothing worse than
belonging to the adverse faction."
Leofric, who though no coward was by nature placable, and adverse to
blows, was ready enough to take this counsel, and set his back against
the door in the little porch which offered shelter to the pair. The
fight seemed to be coming their way, and presently a few clerks scudded
by, yelling, laughing, cursing; brandishing their clubs and hurling all
manner of foul and derisive epithets at those behind them, from whom,
however, they evidently thought it well to flee. Others followed, some
having cut heads or bleeding noses, dishevelled, out of breath, angry,
yet inclined to make game of themselves and others all the while.
"North! North! North!" they shouted, interlarding their words with many
an oath and epithet that need not be transcribed. "Ye coward
Southerners, ye only dare to attack when ye be ten to one. We will give
you back as good as ye gave! North! North!"
Plainly the pursuers were close behind the flying feet of the last
fugitive, when suddenly the rout was brought up short by the appearance
of a tall man in a long gown, with a weapon at his side, who came round
the corner at a quick pace, and confronted the rioters with stern
glances.
"How dare you disturb the peace again, you good-for-nothing brawlers?"
he cried in ringing accents. "Let me have such another scene within the
week, and I will have some of you to answer for it in the Chancellor's
Court. As if it were not enough that you must be fighting the burgesses,
fighting the citizens, fighting the Jews, but ye must be fighting one
another too, and that in broad daylight, when you should be at your
studies. To your Halls and lodgings, every man of you; and if I hear of
such another brawl as ye come from lecture, I will deal differently with
some of you."
The clerks, who had pulled up suddenly at sight of this stalwart
functionary, now began to slink away this way and that. Many of them
were mere lads, led on by the boyish instinct of fighting; a few were
evilly-disposed rogues, who were always to be found in the streets,
ready for any brawl; others, again, were scholars who had followed in
the wake of the crowd, with an idle interest in anything that savoured
of a fight rather than with any particular desire to take part in it.
These sorts of frays were of almost daily occurrence in old Oxford, and
only when they became too numerous or too severe was any particular
notice taken of them. The students for the most part lived and brawled,
studied and played, very much as it pleased them, and a fight, with many
or with few, was part of the day's work.
Jack espied Gilbert at the edge of the crowd, and made for him quickly.
"What is the matter? and who is he that stayed the fight?" he asked,
with eager curiosity; and Gilbert answered, laughing,--
"There is naught the matter; the fight was but a bit of play as the men
came out from lecture. We have such almost every day, and they seldom
come to more than a few cracked crowns. Yon man of the gown is the
Proctor of the South. There be two such in the University, one for the
North and one for the South; and I trow they have their hands full to
keep order sometimes! But come along, let us to dinner, and ye shall
tell your news."