EMBARKING FOR THE EAST.
IT was Saturday; and the sun shone brightly on pool and stream, and even
lighted up the dingy corners of walled cities, as the Earl of March
proceeded on foot from the castle to the port of Berwick, and embarked
with his knights and kinsmen.
The event created much excitement in the town. In fact, though the
princes and nobles of Europe were weary of enterprises that had ruined
so many great houses, the people still thought of the crusades with
interest, and talked of them with enthusiasm. The very name of Palestine
exercised a magical influence on the European Christians of that
generation. At the mention of the Holy Land, their imagination conjured
up the most picturesque scenery; Saracenic castles stored with gold and
jewels; cities the names of which were recorded in the sacred book which
the poorest knew by picture; and they listened earnestly as palmer or
pilgrim told of Sharon with its roses without thorns; Lebanon with its
cedars and vines; and Carmel with its solitary convent, and its summit
covered with thyme, and haunted by the eagle and the boar, till their
fancy pictured 'a land flowing with milk and honey,' by repairing to
which sinners could secure pardon without penance in this world, and
happiness without purgatory in the next.
It is not wonderful that, when such sentiments prevailed, the
embarkation of a great noble for the Holy Land should have excited much
interest; and, as Guy Muschamp and Walter Espec took their way from the
castle to the port, crowded with ships, and passed warehouses stored
with merchandise, the Red Hall of the Flemings resounding with the noise
of artificers, the wealthy religious houses which kept alive the flame
of ancient learning, and dispensed befitting charities, the streets
presented a motley assemblage of seafaring men, monks, warriors, and
soldiers; the wives and daughters of the burghers, all in holiday
attire, crowded the housetops or gazed from the windows and balconies;
and the burghers themselves, leaving their booths and warehouses,
flocked to the port to gossip with each other, and to witness the
departure of the armed pilgrims.
'Oh, good Walter,' exclaimed Guy Muschamp, whose spirit rose with the
excitement, 'is not this a stirring scene? By St. John of Beverley, what
rich armour! what gallant ships! what stately churches! And yet I would
wager my basinet to a prentice's flat cap that it is not, for a moment,
to be compared to Acre.'
'I deem that it can hardly be,' replied Walter, calmly; 'and, in truth,
I am in no mood to look upon life with joyous emotions. But, brave Guy,
I am pleased to see you pleased; albeit, I own frankly that I should be
more than human did I not somewhat envy you your gaiety.'
'Be gay, good Walter.'
Walter shook his head.
'Vain would be the effort,' he replied, sadly; 'I can only pray to God
and Holy Katherine to grant that I may return with a lighter heart.'
'As for me,' continued Guy, 'I am ever gay--gay as the lark; gay in the
morning, gay at eve. It is my nature so to be. My mother is a
Frenchwoman--a kinswoman of the Lord of Joinville--and scarce knows what
sadness is. I inherit her spirit; and I doubt not that, if I am slain by
the Saracens, I shall die laughing.'
With this conversation they reached the quay, just as Earl Patrick was
stepping on board his ship, the 'Hilda,' which, if less graceful and
elegant than the vessels of modern times, was imposing to look upon.
Adorned with painting and gilding, it had armorial bearings and badges
embroidered on various parts; banners of gay and brilliant colours
floated from the masts; and the sails of azure and purple shone with
work of gold. Armour glittered on deck; and martial music was not
wanting to give variety to the display.
Meanwhile, amidst the bustle and shouts of the crew, the ports of the
vessel were opened to allow the horses of the armed pilgrims to enter;
and, as the ports were under water when the vessel was at sea, they were
caulked and stopped up as close as a tun of wine. This operation over,
and all the adventurers embarked, the skipper raised his hand for
silence.
'My men, is your work done?' cried he to his people in the prow; 'are
you ready?'
'Yes, in truth, we are ready,' answered the seamen.
And now, the priests who accompanied Earl Patrick having embarked, the
captain made them mount to the castle of the ship, and chant psalms in
praise of God, and to pray that He might be pleased to grant a
prosperous voyage; and they, having ascended, sang the beautiful hymn of
'Veni, Creator' from beginning to end. While the priests sang, the
mariners set their sails, and the skipper ordered them to haul up the
anchor; and instantly a breeze filled the sails, and the ships moved
slowly but proudly away from the shore.