The Earl of Fife’s Council Meeting—The Challenge between the
Scottish and English Knights.
The health had hardly well gone round ere the shrill notes of a bugle
were heard, followed by a stir that arose in the court-yard, the noise
of which even reached the ears of those in the hall. A messenger had
arrived express, and a letter was speedily delivered to the Earl of
Fife.
“Ha!” said he, with an air of surprise, as he surveyed the impression
of the signet attached to the purple silk in which it was wrapped; and
then hastily breaking it open, glanced rapidly over its contents.
All eyes were turned towards him with eager inquiry. An expression of
earnest attention to what he read was very visibly marked on his
features.
“Your pardon, brother,” said he, starting up at length, after a
moment’s thought; “I crave your pardon, and that of this honourable
company, but this letter is from my Royal father, and on pressing state
affairs. I must of needscost break up the banquet sooner than thy
wonted hospitality would authorize me to demand of thee, were the
business of a less urgent nature; but we must hold a council
straightway to determine how we may best and most speedily fulfil the
wishes of His Majesty. I shall wait thy coming in thy private
apartment, and shall by and by hope for the attendance of such of the
nobles and knights here assembled as may be required to aid our
resolves.”
Having said so, the Earl of Fife bowed graciously to the company with
such a sweeping, yet particularizing glance, as left each individual in
the firm belief that he had been especially distinguished by the great
man’s notice; and, putting his hand into his bosom, he moved down the
hall with all the appearance of being instantly absorbed in deep
reflection.
The Lord Welles and his suite of English knights, darting very
significant looks towards one another, sat a few minutes, and then
rising, retired in a body. The Countess of Moray, and the rest of the
ladies, also soon afterwards left the board, and sought their
apartments, and the Earl of Moray instantly broke up the banquet, and
hastened to join his brother the Earl of Fife, taking with him the Earl
of Douglas and the Earl of Dunbar. Such of the Scottish nobles and
knights, however, as conceived that their presence might be required at
the expected council, continued to pace the ample pavement in small
parties, or to stand grouped together in little knots, all exercising
their ingenuity in guessing at the probable cause and nature of so
sudden and unlooked-for, and apparently so important a communication.
The most prevalent surmise was, that a war with England was to be
declared, and the very thought of such a thing gave joy to every manly
bosom. Suspicions of the prospect of a rupture between the two
countries had begun to be pretty general of late; and the circumstance
of bringing down the English ambassadors to Tarnawa, was by some, who
affected to be deeper read in such matters than others, interpreted
into a fine piece of state policy to keep them out of the way, while
preparations were maturing for the more powerful and successful
commencement of hostilities on the part of Scotland. All were impatient
to know the truth, and when a messenger came to the door of the hall
with a roll of names, which he read over, calling on those of the
nobles and knights who were named in it, to remain in the hall, and
take their places at the board, at the upper end of it, according to
their rank, those who were so selected could not well hide their
satisfaction, while those who were compelled to withdraw did so with
extreme reluctance.
Sir Patrick Hepborne was overjoyed to find that he was to be one of
those in whom the Earl of Fife wished to confide. He took his seat at
the table with the rest, and the most profound silence succeeded to the
sounds of mirth and pleasure which had so lately reigned within the
hall. Whatever conjectures might have escaped the lips of those around
the board, whilst they mingled carelessly with those who were idly
speculating on the probable purport of the King’s message, they now
considered the seal of silence imposed on their lips, by their being
selected as councillors; and accordingly they sat gazing at each other
with grave and solemn looks, calmly awaiting the arrival of the Earl of
Fife. Certain faces there were which betrayed something like a
consciousness of greater self-importance than the rest, as if they
either knew, or would have had others believe that they knew, something
more than those around them. But whatever they knew or thought they
ventured not to express it.
At length the Earls of Fife, Moray, Douglas, and Dunbar appeared, and
took their seats at the upper end of the table. All eyes and ears were
fixed in attention; and the Earl of Fife, laying the King’s letter and
packet on the table, began to open the business he had to communicate
to them.
“My Lords and Gentlemen,” said he, in a tone of voice which, though
audible enough to every one of them, was yet too low to have found its
way through any of the crannies of the door at the farther end of the
hall, “I shall be as brief as possible with you. Ye all know how great
is my consideration for you individually, so I trust that I have no
need to waste time in assuring ye of my love for ye all, or of the zeal
with which I am filled for promoting your respective interests. Highly
sensible am I of the great blessing that hath befallen Scotland, in
raising up such store of wisdom and valour among her sons, as I do know
to exist in the persons of the noble lords and honourable knights by
whom I have now the felicity of being surrounded; and I do the more
congratulate myself upon this knowledge at the present time, seeing
that the wisdom and the valour I have spoken of must now be called
forth into important action. For, to withhold the news from you no
longer, Scotland is about to be, nay, more probably hath been already
invaded—a large army having hovered on the Eastern Marches, threatening
the Merse with fire and sword, the which may have ere this been poured
out upon them. Your good King, and my Royal father, hath sent this
intelligence express from Aberdeen, where he now abideth, at the same
time commanding our instant attendance there to counsel and advise him,
and to receive his orders for our future conduct. We are, moreover,
directed to lead thither with us all the strength of dependants we can
muster, and to take such immediate measures as may ensure the instant
gathering of those districts which are under the control of each of us
respectively. A large force must of needscost be quickly got together;
it is therefore highly expedient that our vassals should be forthcoming
with as little delay as possible, that they may be ready to unite
themselves with the host wheresoever and whensoever it may assemble.
Such of us as are wanted at Aberdeen must set forward to-morrow. These,
then, are the matters and the commands which my Royal father sends you,
and which I, as his organ, have been instructed to convey to you.”
A murmur of applause ran round the table. Broken sentences burst from
the respective knights, each shortly but pithily expressing the
satisfaction he felt at the prospect of having something more serious
than jousting to occupy him.
“I have yet one more communication to make, my Lords and Gentlemen, of
which you must be the witnesses, and I need not say that I entreat you
to be the silent witnesses of it. I must convey to the Lord Welles
intelligence, which I am not without suspicion he hath been for some
time anticipating, from his own private knowledge of events. I mean to
crave an immediate conference with him here in your presence; but it is
my wish that no one whom I have here admitted to my confidence will
talk to him, or any of the English knights, either now or afterwards of
anything I have mentioned. I have to communicate to the Lord Welles the
King’s license for his departure, and I hope I do not ask too much when
I beg that I may be left to do so entirely unassisted, and that nothing
he or his shall say may provoke ye to speak. Silence will best accord
with your dignity. Go, brother, my Lord Earl of Moray, so please thee,
and entreat the presence of the Lord Welles among us, with such of his
suite as he may list to accompany him.”
The Earl of Moray hastened to obey his brother-in-law, and, during his
absence, the Earl of Fife seemed to have retreated into his own
thoughts. The knights who sat with him remained in still contemplation
of him and of one another. The English envoy was received with
dignified decorum.
“My Lord Welles,” said the Earl of Fife to him after he was seated, “I
have now to perform a piece of duty to my King, the which, as it
regardeth thee, doth particularly erke me. As thou art thyself aware, I
have this night received a letter from His Majesty, and I have now to
tell thee, that in it I am commanded to inform thee that he will
dispense with thy further attendance at his Royal Court. In so far as
our personal intercourse hath gone, I have good reason to regret that
it is to be discontinued so soon; and the more so that it hath fallen
into my hands to snap it. This parchment, which I have now the honour
of presenting to thee, doth contain a safe-conduct for thee, and all
with thee, to return into thy native country by the shortest possible
route. It doleth me much that we are to be so soon reft of thine
agreeable society. Yea, the removal of thy presence is most especially
galling at such a time, when all was prepared for making the days of
thy stay in Scotland as light as mought be. Our coming tourney will be
nought without thee.”
“My Lord of Fife, of a truth this is a most sudden and unlooked-for
event,” said the Lord Welles, with the appearance, if not with the
reality, of surprise on his countenance. “Hath any reason been
assigned, the which it may be permitted thee to utter to me?”
“His Majesty’s reasons, my good Lord, are not always given,” replied
the Earl of Fife, evasively; “but thou knowest that it is the part of a
subject implicitly to obey, without inquiring too curiously into the
nature of the wires that may be on the stretch to put him in motion;
and I must submit as well as others. Hast thou had no communications
lately from thine own court?”
“If thy coming tourney doth ever hold,” said the Lord Welles,
altogether avoiding the home question of the Earl of Fife, and glancing
curiously into the faces of those around him, “it will suffer little in
its pomp or circumstance, I trow, from my departure, where thou hast so
great an assemblage of Scottish knights to give lustre to it, but if
they should be called away, indeed, by anything connected with my
dismissal, it may in that case dwindle, peraunter, and expire of very
consumption ere it hath been well born.”
The Lord Welles’s eyes returned from their excursion round the table,
without displaying signs of having gathered anything from the firm
Scottish countenances they had scanned.
“And when must I of needscost set forward, my Lord?” continued the Lord
Welles, addressing the Earl of Fife.
“A party of lances will be in waiting to-morrow morning by sunrise, to
guide and protect thee on thy way, and I do believe that thou wilt find
that sufficient time hath been given thee in the parchment thou hast,
to make the journey easy. Shouldst thou, peradventure, covet the
provision of anything that may contribute to thy comfort or expedition,
the which I may have the power to procure for thee, I do beseech thee
to let me be informed, and it shall be mine especial care that thou
mayest be gratified.”
“Nay, my Lord Earl of Fife, I lack nothing,” replied the Lord Welles.
“And now, then, my good Lord, I bid thee good night,” said the Earl of
Fife. “Farewell; it will give me joy again to meet with thee as a
friend, until when may St. George be with thee.”
“Receive our fullest thanks for all thy gracious courtesy,” replied the
Lord Welles.
The Earl of Fife now arose with the Earls Douglas, Moray, and Dunbar,
and took his leave, with many condescending protestations. The Lord
Welles and his friends loitered a little time after he was gone, and
the Scottish knights having by this time risen from the council board,
he mingled familiarly among them.
“This dismissal of mine is something of the suddenest,” said he, in a
general kind of manner, to a few of them who were clustered together.
“Can any umbrage have been taken? Is it possible King Robert can mean
to steal a march on His Majesty of England, and cross the Border ere he
giveth him warning? or hath he already done so with an English envoy in
his territories?”
He paused after each of these short interrogatories, as if in the hope
of fishing out a reply from some one, which might instruct him in the
extent of the information that had come from the Scottish Monarch; but
no one exhibited either the will or the power to gratify him, and he
adroitly changed to another subject.
“Ha! Sir David Lindsay,” said he, turning round and addressing that
knight, “let us not forget to settle the engagement and darreigne that
hath passed between us.”
“Nay, trust me, that shall not I,” replied Sir David Lindsay; “I but
waited until thou hadst concluded thy weightier and more pressing
affairs, to entreat thee that we may enter into our articles of tilting
now. I do hope that nothing may arise to baulk us of our sport.”
“What, I beseech thee, can baulk us?” demanded the Lord Welles slyly,
and probably with the hope that he would yet catch what he had been
angling for, by throwing this long line, and drawing it so skilfully
round.
“Nay, I know not,” replied Sir David Lindsay readily; “thou mightst
have repented thee peraunter, and it would have sorely grieved me hadst
thou wished to draw thy head from our agreement.”
“Depardieux, thou needest be in no dread of that, Sir David; I am not a
man of that kidney, I promise thee,” hastily replied the Lord Welles,
in some degree thrown off his guard by the gentle touch which Lindsay
had given to his honour; “for whether it be in war or in peace thou
shalt have a safe-conduct from King Richard, if I have the influence
that I do believe I have; yea, a safe-conduct for thee and thine, that
thou mayest on thy part fulfil thy behote. Let us straightway hasten to
arrange and register the terms of our meeting.”
“’Tis well thought of,” said Sir David Lindsay; “let us have a clerk to
put our mutual challenge in proper style, and distinct and lasting
characters, that, each of us having a copy thereof, neither of us may
mistake.”
A scrivener was accordingly sent for, and the council board, again
ordained to change the service it was destined to, now became a
theatre, where the nicest points of chivalry and the minutest rules of
tilting were canvassed at greater length and with more eagerness of
debate than had been bestowed on the much more important business which
had been previously gone through there. The superfine judgment of Sir
Piers Courtenay in such matters was singularly pre-eminent; and his
auditors were extremely edified by some long and very learned
disquisitions with which he was pleased to favour them. At length
everything was happily adjusted to the satisfaction of both parties,
and written copies of the terms being signed and exchanged between the
two principals in the proposed affair, they cordially shook hands and
separated, with many chivalric and courteous speeches to each other.
Things were no sooner settled thus, than several Scottish knights
pressed forward to entreat Sir David Lindsay that they might be
permitted to bear him company when the time should be finally fixed.
The first of these was Sir William de Dalzell, and another was Sir
Patrick Hepborne. To these, and to Sir John Halyburton, Sir David
Lindsay readily promised that places should be preserved, however
limited a number the safe-conduct might be granted for; but he declined
further promises until he could be sure of fulfilling them. The
Scottish knights, who had been all too much interested in what was
going forward to permit them to leave the hall until everything was
finally adjusted, now hastened to call their esquires, and to make
those private preparations for travelling which were not publicly to
appear until after the departure of the English envoy and his suite.