_THE GREAT EARL._
"My father is coming! my father is coming! the watchman has sighted his
approach! Come and see him arrive with his train! it will be a right
goodly sight, methinks."
So spoke the Demoiselle, rushing in hot haste into a great hall, which
might perhaps be termed the library of the Castle, where certain books
and manuscripts were stored in carved oaken presses against the wall,
and where Leofric spent a portion of each day in transcribing for the
little Eleanora the breviary which she was so eager to possess.
The Countess, at a hint from her son, had offered this task to the young
scholar, and Leofric had gratefully undertaken it. The Demoiselle took
keen interest in the work, and had already established very friendly
relations with her brothers friend. A child at heart, despite her
graceful and self-possessed manners and queenly little ways, she
delighted in listening to stories of Oxford student life, and in
watching the skilful pen and brush of the young bachelor as he copied
the text or the illuminations from the scrolls in the library. Little
Eleanora was greatly delighted at being able to choose her favourite
designs for reproduction in her own breviary, and she danced in and out
the library like a veritable sprite, directing and admiring, chattering
freely to the scribe as she grew intimate with him, and letting him into
a great deal of the family history of the De Montforts during the years
of Amalric's absence.
Amalric himself was often present, and then brother and sister would
converse freely and eagerly together. Leofric was treated as a friend
and equal by both, and greatly enjoyed this experience of life in a
nobleman's castle. It was like stepping forth into a new world or
learning a new language.
The arrival of the Earl of Leicester had been for some time expected.
His wife knew that he was in England upon a flying visit for political
reasons, and daily was he looked for at Kenilworth; but so far no
definite tidings of his movements had reached her, and the household
lived in a state of expectancy and impatience.
It was no wonder that, when the Demoiselle rushed into the library with
this piece of intelligence on her lips, Amalric and Leofric should start
at once to their feet, and hasten with all speed to the great courtyard,
where already the men-at-arms and the retainers were mustering.
It was a beautiful and picturesque sight. The Countess, with her little
daughter and her handsome son beside her, stood at the top of the great
flight of steps which led into the banqueting-hall, opposite the great
gateway. All round the spacious courtyard were grouped the armed
retainers and servants of the household. The sentinels and men-at-arms
mounted the battlements, or drew up in martial array about the gateway,
and the herald rode forth to meet and greet his master and bring him in
in triumph.
The sense of expectancy deepened as the minutes passed by; then a great
shout was raised as the trampling of horses' feet was heard within the
outer courtyard. The next minute the great Earl, bare-headed, as he
responded to the enthusiastic greetings showered upon him, rode through
the gateway and across the court; and a cry went up that seemed wellnigh
to shake the walls, as Kenilworth welcomed back its long-absent lord.
The eagle face of the Earl had grown thinner and browner since Leofric
had seen it last. There were lines there which had been traced rather by
anxiety and sorrow than by the hand of time. But the light in the eyes
was unquenched, and the carriage of the haughty head betrayed the
undaunted and resolute spirit of this leader of men.
His glance softened at the sight of his wife and daughter, and with a
quick and skilful turn of the reins he drew up his charger at the foot
of the steps, and leaped lightly to the ground. The next minute he had
embraced his wife before the eyes of the assembled crowd, who were
making the welkin ring with their plaudits; and little Eleanora was
clinging to his hand, half shy, yet intensely eager for the notice of
her sire, of whom she had seen but little, and that only on brief
visits, paid as occasion served, and he could be spared to enjoy the
pleasures of home life.
Leofric's eyes wandered over the goodly company filing into the
courtyard after its lord. Immediately behind their father rode Henry and
Simon, his eldest sons, now knights, and youths of handsome person,
albeit lacking their father's nobility of aspect and charm of manner.
Behind these again rode Guy, the third son, and side by side with him
was a young man of noble aspect, very richly dressed, and plainly of no
small importance in the eyes of the great De Montfort himself; for even
before his own sons had had time to embrace their mother, he beckoned up
this youth to the top of the steps, and presented him with much ceremony
to his wife.
Leofric noted that quite a number of the men who followed wore the badge
and the livery of this person. For a moment it crossed his mind that it
might be one of the King's sons; but upon putting the question to one
who stood by, he was answered in the negative.
"Nay, it is not the Prince. The Prince is a kinglier youth than that.
That is Gilbert, the young Duke of Gloucester, and a right royal welcome
will be accorded him at Kenilworth; for if he had followed his father's
footsteps, and taken the side of the King, great hurt and loss to our
party must have ensued. We cannot afford to lose the support of
Gloucester."
This enlightened Leofric considerably as to the situation, and he added
his voice to those raised in lusty cheering for the young Earl Gilbert.
He had heard much about the father of this young man, recently deceased,
and how, after joining in the cause which the Barons had at heart, he
had quarrelled again and again with the Earl of Leicester, and had
finally gone over to the King's side. Up to the present moment it had
been feared that this young son, a youth of nineteen, now Earl in his
father's stead, might follow that father's example and join the King's
party; but his appearance at Kenilworth to-day, in company with De
Montfort and his sons, showed plainly that he had thrown over the old
Earl's policy, and had cast in his lot with the Barons: so the hearts of
all were made glad, and cheer upon cheer rent the air as Leicester
presented his youthful compeer to his loyal retainers here.
Preparations were instantly set on foot for a banquet of more than
ordinary splendour. The Countess had been prepared for some such
emergency as this, and the vast kitchens of the Castle could be depended
upon for an ample supply of those substantial dainties under which the
tables of our forefathers were wont to groan. The waters of the moat
supplied fresh-water fish and wild fowl in abundance. Kids and goats and
calves, oxen and sheep and swine, had only to be fetched in from the
stores in the Castle. Venison from the forests around, as well as small
game of all sorts, was supplied by the huntsmen; and in the household
roll of the Countess are to be found abundant entries concerning spices,
saffron, rice, figs, ginger, cinnamon, and raisins, showing that the
variety afforded in those days was considerable.
But Leofric still stood watching the entry of the gay company which came
with the Earl in martial array. It seemed as though there was no end to
the following of knights and esquires who attended these two great
nobles. They filed in one after another in endless array, till the youth
wondered how even the walls of Kenilworth could accommodate them all.
Suddenly he gave a great start of surprise, and pressed a few steps
forward. A small group had just come into the courtyard, seemingly in
the rear of the followers of the Earls, and Leofric recognized the face
and form of Sir Humphrey de Kynaston, Constable of Oxford Castle; whilst
riding at his side, upon a pretty little barb, was fair Mistress Alys,
his daughter, now grown to be a most beauteous maiden, the light of her
father's eyes; and these two were accompanied by four stout serving-men,
who wore the livery of their master.
What could Sir Humphrey be doing here? asked Leofric of himself in no
small wonder; and pushing a way through the moving crowd of horsemen,
who were filing off towards the stables and quarters allotted to them,
he made his way to this little group just within the great gateway, and
doffed his cap respectfully before them.
A little cry of delight from Alys told him he was recognized.
"Father, it is Leofric--our good Leofric!" she cried. "I remember now
that Amalric was to bring him to Kenilworth. Now this is a good hap
indeed; for we feel like fish taken from the water in this strange
company.--Prithee, good youth, be our friend and counsellor, for
methinks our noble host has forgotten that he has made us his guests for
the nonce."
A few words from Sir Humphrey explained what had happened. He had been
taking his daughter on a little riding expedition through the country,
some business of his own having obliged him to quit Oxford for the space
of a few weeks. They were journeying back, when they had fallen in with
the Earl of Leicester, who had cordially invited them to be his guests
for a few days. Then he had only had a small company with him; but that
very day he had been joined by the Earl of Gloucester and his following,
and so many knights and gentlemen had added themselves to his train upon
his approach to Kenilworth, that he and his daughter had betaken
themselves to the rear, and were disposed to think themselves forgotten;
so that the sight of a familiar face amid all that strange throng was
hailed with pleasure and relief.
But the Earl had a better memory than Sir Humphrey had supposed, and at
this moment Amalric came hastening up to give a hearty welcome to the
Kynastons, and to escort them to his mother's apartments, where Alys was
to be lodged during her stay. She was eagerly received by the
Demoiselle, who was always delighted to have a girl friend to stay with
her; and before an hour had passed away the two maidens were fast
friends, and little Eleanora had promised Alys to take her into the
gallery overlooking the banqueting-hall, to see the fine company sit at
table, and hear the address which her father was certain to give them.
"And Leofric shall come with us," said Eleanora, with one of her
imperious little gestures; "Amalric cannot. He must sit at table as one
of my father's sons. But Leofric can stay with us, and I trow he will
like it better than sitting for hours stuffing himself with all those
strange dishes that the cooks send up at feast-times. I will send and
tell him that we desire his attendance. Thou dost know him--he is thy
brother's friend; I have heard tell of thee from him. He is my brother's
friend likewise, and I trow he is a very goodly youth, and a good one
too. I care not if his birth be humble; we might have been born peasants
ourselves!" and the niece of the King tossed her dainty head, ailing the
democratic fancies of youth with a petulant grace characteristic of her
varying moods.
"My father loves the people, and fights for their rights," she added
more seriously, after a moment's pause. "He loves the King, and would
well like to be his faithful vassal; but if he does wrong, my father
withstands him. Sometimes he says it may cost him his life one day; but
he never shrinks back from what is his duty."
Leofric obeyed the behest of the Demoiselle with alacrity.
There was, in addition to the minstrel's gallery overlooking the great
hall, a smaller private gallery, leading from the quarters occupied by
the Earl and Countess and their personal guests. Sometimes when the Earl
entertained a company of nobles, the Countess sat here and looked on
without taking part in the feasting; but to-day she would sit at table
with her lord, and he would fain have had his daughter too, had not
Eleanora pleaded the weariness she always felt at these lengthy
functions, and obtained grace for herself and Alys to have their own
supper privately served, and to look on as spectators only at the
banquet.
It was in truth a goodly sight. The great hall was filled from end to
end with nobles, knights, and squires of varying degree, who occupied
tables arranged according to their rank, and made a proud and gay
display with their costly dresses and flashing jewels. The Earls of
Leicester and Gloucester, with the Countess between them, occupied the
places of honour at the highest table raised on a daïs, and Leofric
looked with admiration upon the noble face and grand figure of the great
De Montfort. Without doubt his was the kingliest figure of all those
present to-day; and his voice when he spoke was clear and sonorous, and
might be heard from end to end of the hall.
The tables shone with massive silver plate; serving-men hurried to and
fro, bearing huge silver dishes containing viands of every description.
Huge barons of beef were borne in between two stalwart attendants;
boars' heads with gleaming white tusks, and peacocks with spreading
tails, formed dishes more ornamental than edible, though some favoured
them, and laughing plucked out the peacocks' plumes and stuck them in
their belts. Huge pasties, both savoury and sweet, found ready custom;
and as for the hogsheads of beer and wine that must have been consumed,
the household roll speaks eloquently of the capacity of our ancestors in
the matter of strong drink. The watchers in the gallery laughed merrily
at the sight, and wondered how long the stores of Kenilworth would stand
the strain.
Towards the end of the banquet the Earl of Leicester rose to his feet,
flagon in hand, and in clear loud tones, which dominated the clamour of
voices around him, gave the toast,--
"His Majesty the King!"
In a moment the whole company was on its feet, and the loyal toast was
drunk with acclamation.
When the hubbub had subsided, the Earl motioned to his guests to be
seated, and himself remaining standing, made a long and eloquent speech.
He spoke of his own affection for the King--his desire for the peace and
welfare of the realm--his hatred of bloodshed and confusion. Men had
said of him, he exclaimed, with a flash in his eagle eyes, that he
desired himself to be monarch of the realm, and the King to be a mere
tool in his hands. That charge he utterly and fiercely denied. He was
the loyal servant of the King, so long as his Majesty would abide by his
plighted word, and would regard the liberties of his subjects and the
terms of the Great Charter. The Provisions of Oxford were in themselves
nothing new; they were but the means by which the Great Charter could be
upheld. The King was not the only person in the realm who had rights to
be cherished and guarded. The liberties of all classes must be
considered; and if a monarch, through weakness or lack of judgment,
surrounded himself with false and scheming men, who persuaded him to
acts of tyranny and rapacity, it then behoved his loyal subjects, who
wished to do him true service, to remove from his side these false
sycophants, and to furnish him instead with true and able counsellors,
who could advise him for his own good and for the good of the realm.
This was in effect what the Barons' party (as it had come to be called)
were doing. They would not stand by passive and idle whilst England's
wealth and England's honour were being handed over to foreign powers,
whilst the country was being bled to death to fill the papal coffers,
and every lucrative place, as it fell vacant, was heaped upon some
foreign adventurer, whose handsome face had attracted the King's
admiration, or whose relationship to the Queen gave him a supposed claim
upon his royal kinsman.
The Prince knew all this as well as any man in the kingdom. He had
remonstrated with his feeble father times without number. He had sworn
to the Provisions of Oxford, and had refused to cancel his oath even
when the King repudiated his own, and had bribed the Roman Pontiff to
grant him absolution therefrom. The Prince was the true friend to his
country, and when he should sit upon the throne all would be well.
Meantime the most true and loyal servants of the King were those who
sought the true welfare of the realm, and would withhold him from
spoliation at the hands of foreign hirelings.
Then holding his head very high, De Montfort spoke of the taunt
sometimes levelled at himself of being a foreigner. He admitted freely
his foreign birth, and pointed out how he had been the first to deliver
up his castles of Kenilworth and Odiham after the Provisions of Oxford
had been agreed upon. He had even retired altogether to Gascony after a
stormy quarrel with the Earl of Gloucester; and were it for the good of
the realm, whose welfare he had so deeply at heart, he would return
thither willingly, and never again set foot on these shores. But over
and over again he had discovered that he was necessary to the welfare of
the party. At this moment he had been summoned across the seas to help
in their deliberations. No one had the true welfare of the English
nation more at heart than he; and alien though he might be by birth, he
loved the land of his adoption with a changeless and passionate love,
and would live for her or die for her whichever might be for her good.
He had put his hand to the plough; he had pledged his honour and his
reputation to save her from papal thraldom and the spoliation of
self-seeking men; she should have her Great Charter, for which men had
bled and died before, or he himself would leave his dead body upon a
blood-stained battlefield!
Roars of applause followed this masterly speech, spoken with all that
charm of manner and lofty dignity of which De Montfort was master. Not
one word did the great Earl speak of the personal wrongs inflicted upon
him by the capricious monarch. Every one present knew how greatly he had
suffered from the injustice of Henry--how he had spent money like water
in his service in Gascony, only to be reviled and abused upon his return
by a master who gave greedy and credulous heed to every word spoken
against one whom he ofttimes feared and hated.
True, there were moments when the old affection would break forth, when
the love for his sister was in the ascendant, and a temporary peace was
patched up. But far more often was the Earl the butt for the King's
injustice and extortion, and the troubles over the payment of the
Countess's dowry added to the chronic friction between them.
But of this the Earl made no mention. He spoke always of the King in
terms of loyal affection, only deploring and denouncing a state of
things which made him the prey of foreign extortion, and the tool of
those who would have him grind his people to the very dust to supply
their endless demands. From this condition of affairs the kingdom must
be rescued at all cost; and even if force alone would do it, that last
and fearful remedy would be better than the curse of slavery and foreign
tyranny.
His hearers were with him to a man. Cheer after cheer went up, making
the great rafters of the hall ring again. Even the youthful Demoiselle
clapped her hands and joined her voice with that of others, and Alys's
fair face flushed and paled with varying emotions as she listened; and
she turned impulsively upon Leofric and asked,--
"Oh, surely it will never come to that! The King will not suffer himself
to be so led astray!"
"The King is a puppet in the hands of his Queen and her relations!"
cried the Demoiselle, with the assurance of extreme youth. "I have been
to Court; I have seen it all. And there are all the De Lusignans, his
half-brothers--they are more to him than his true kindred. He has them
ever about him--them and the Queen's relations, who are legion. They
stuff his head with all sorts of falsehood. They foster his pride and
folly, and they prey upon him like vultures. Only when my father and his
friends can get speech of him and take him away from these harpies does
he ever behave himself as a monarch should. As soon as he makes his way
back to them, they make of him their tool and their slave. And then he
seeks to sink England into slavery like his own!"
It was amusing to hear the child speaking thus, with sparkling eyes and
a mien oddly like that of her noble father. She had all the spirit of
her sire and her royal mother, and her companions regarded her with
admiration.
"If his Majesty the King had but half the spirit of my lady mother,"
cried the child once more, "all this trouble would speedily be at an
end. Methinks Providence made a blunder in fashioning him the man and
her the woman. Had it been the other way, things in this realm would be
vastly different now."
The stir within the hall had drowned the sound of another kind of tumult
without; but had the revellers been less excited by the great Earl's
speech and their own enthusiastic reception of it, they might have been
aware of some unwonted stir going on in the courtyard. The stone
pavement had been ringing to the clang of horses' hoofs; voices had been
raised in eager challenge and greeting.
At this moment a servant quickly entered the banqueting-hall, and made
his way up to the Earl, to whom he spoke in a rapid undertone. Leicester
rose instantly and spoke to his wife, who also rose to her feet, a look
of surprise upon her face, though none of displeasure.
"What can have chanced?" questioned the Demoiselle eagerly; "it is no
trifle that would cause my father to rise and stride from the hall at
such a moment as this. And see! all at the high table have risen, and
are looking towards the door; and now the whole company is afoot. Some
strange thing is about to happen; what can it be?"
They were not kept long in suspense. The great doors at the bottom of
the hall were flung wide open. A trumpet note rang through the building,
till the rafters themselves echoed to it; and it was answered by the
shout from hundreds of voices as the company saw whose was the stately
figure that the Earl had gone forward to meet.
The Demoiselle suddenly clapped her hands, and waved her scarf in token
of joyous greeting.
"It is my noble cousin, my well-loved cousin!" she cried, in tones of
childish rapture; "it is Prince Edward himself!"