THE EVE OF BATTLE
It was the evening of Friday, the 16th of October, 1346, when, in the
company of Copeland, the Northumbrian esquire, I reached Durham, and
first beheld the city associated with the memory of St. Cuthbert.
And fine and picturesque, I did confess, was the appearance which the
place presented at the close of that October day, when threatened
by the Scottish foe. The eye of my comrade gleamed with provincial
pride as he marked the impression produced on me by the sight; and he
exclaimed, in a tone of triumph--
"A fair city."
"Passing fair," I replied; and, not unwilling to display the little
knowledge I possessed, I added, "and it seems to me to be, like Rome,
built on seven hills."
"God's truth," said Copeland, "I know not on how many hills Rome may be
built; but I have heard men say that whoso hath seen the situation of
Durham has seen the map of Zion, and may save himself the trouble of a
journey to Jerusalem."
About seventeen miles to the south of Newcastle, and sixty-seven miles
to the north-west of York, in the centre of the shire of Durham, the
river Wear, in one of its windings, makes a curve in the shape of a
horse-shoe, and incloses a lofty peninsula, or promontory. On this
promontory, which is formed of seven hills, surrounded by hills still
higher than themselves, stands the city of Durham, with its castle, its
abbey, its churches and buildings, mirrored in the clear waters of the
river, whose steep banks are clothed with hanging woods.
At a distance of some miles to the south of Durham is the castle of
Auckland, the seat of the bishop, with a park abounding in deer and
wild cattle; while three miles to the north-west is Beaurepaire,
another fair park, in which stands the house to which the prior is
wont, on occasions, to retreat for quiet and contemplation. At this
crisis both of these parks were camps, and their silence and privacy
were broken by the noise of arms and the tramp of warriors; for the
English army lay at Auckland, awaiting orders to march, and the King
of Scots lay at Beaurepaire, awaiting the coming of the enemy, and
treating with great disdain, as I have written, the proposal made by
some of his nobles to make for the woods, and retreat without risking
an engagement.
Such was the position of the two armies when having entered Durham,
I proceeded to the castle, and craved an audience of the Queen of
England. At first it appeared doubtful whether it would be granted; but
a hint as to my being charged with letters of importance from France
opened the doors, and I was conducted to the presence of the royal
lady on whose energy and presence of mind the fate of England, at that
moment, in a great measure depended.
At the time when Philippa of Hainault was first brought to England
and wedded to King Edward, at York, she was a girl of seventeen, with
a brilliant complexion, and a tall, graceful figure, whom minstrels
praised in verse for her "roseate hue and beauty bright." Eighteen
years, however, had passed over her head, during which she had become
the mother of ten children, and she retained little of that youthful
beauty which minstrels had celebrated.
But what Philippa had lost in juvenile brilliance she had gained in
matronly dignity; and at thirty-five, what with her still comely
features, her serene aspect, and her stately, though kindly manners,
she looked every inch a queen, of whom Englishmen might have said, as
they did of her predecessor, Eleanor of Castile, that "to our nation
she was a loving mother, the column and pillar of the whole realm."
And never, perhaps, had the Queen of England appeared to greater
advantage than when, at this crisis, and in the hour of dismay, she,
in the absence of her hero-husband and hero-son, defied all dangers,
and ran all risks, to do her duty to the country over which her husband
reigned, and the kingdom to which her son was heir.
As I knelt and presented the epistle with which I had been intrusted
by the Governor of La Broyes, she looked at me with something like
surprise, and, taking the letter from my hand, said gently--
"Rise, sir page; how is this? I thought you were lost."
"Yes, madam," replied I, in some confusion; "but you see I am found
again."
"And how came you by this?"
"There, madam, hangs a long tale, with which, mayhap, it were better
not to weary your highness at present."
"I will hear it," said the queen.
And taking this expression of her wish as a command, I, with the utmost
brevity, related my adventures, and the circumstances under which I
had undertaken the duty of messenger. Having listened attentively,
and questioned me as to what I remembered about the battle of Cressy,
and the bearing of her son on that great day, the queen expressed her
approval of my conduct, and immediately gave a proof of her confidence
in my fidelity and discretion.
"My lord the king," said she, "will naturally be all anxiety to hear
the result of the battle which is about to be fought; and I must needs,
without a moment of unnecessary delay, despatch a messenger to him with
the tidings, whether of weal or woe."
"Madam," said I, "do not fear--or, rather, I should say, do not
doubt--under the eyes of so gracious a lady, that the English soldiery
will do their duty, and the beams of victory will rest on St. George's
cross."
A frown and a smile passed over the queen's face as showers and
sunshine succeed each other on an April day. My audacity caused the
frown; my enthusiasm caused the smile. But she quickly gained her
serenity.
"You are too young to have any title to express opinions so boldly,"
she said; "and yet I deny not that much must be overlooked in the case
of those who have fought by my son's side. However, hold yourself in
readiness to proceed to Calais at a moment's notice."
"Madam," urged I earnestly, and like a condemned man begging for mercy,
"I would fain hope that the prospect of so high an honour as carrying
a message to my lord the king may not be inconsistent with my drawing
my sword against the Scots, and striking a blow for his honour and the
safety of the kingdom."
"Better not," replied the queen. "It may be cruel to gainsay you. But
you are too young to die, sir page, and will live, please God, to win
distinction some other day."
I bowed low, but my countenance indicated my disappointment.
"But," continued she, "the Lords D'Eyncourt and Ogle, with a body of
cavalry selected for the duty, are to attend me as a guard during the
battle. I accord to you the honour of being one of the party; and it
is an honour which I trust that you, as a disciple of chivalry, in the
service of the Prince of Wales, will not fail highly to value. You are
dismissed."
As she spoke, the queen began to read the epistle of the Countess of
Hainault, over which she had already glanced; and, having bent my knee,
I retired, not without a feeling of disappointment. Indeed, I must
frankly confess that, however high the distinction of attending the
Queen of England on such an occasion, I should have relinquished it
without a sigh; for so completely had Copeland's stories of adventures
and contests with Scottish warriors taken possession of my imagination,
that I would gladly, at that moment, have resigned all ambition, and
all hopes of rising in life, under the patronage of royal personages,
for the privilege of riding to battle with the brave Northumbrian,
and charging, sword in hand, by his side into the ranks of foemen,
wherever the excitement was highest and the conflict keenest.
I sought Copeland, and, having hastily communicated the result of
my audience, expressed the regret I felt at being deprived of the
gratification of drawing my sword in his company.
"I grieve to hear it," observed the Northumbrian; "for, between
ourselves, I have formed a scheme for acquiring fame and fortune at a
grasp."
"By St. George!" exclaimed I. "Tell me, I implore you, how that is to
be accomplished. It may serve me on another occasion."
"Breathe not a word on the subject to living mortal," said he.
"Hark--in thine ear--I know this King of Scots by head mark. In the
battle I will track him as the russet bloodhound does a marauder; and
ere to-morrow's sun sets, he shall yield himself my prisoner, rescue or
no rescue."
"A most noble enterprise, on my faith," exclaimed I admiringly, "and
one, I ween, that will bring both honour and profit, if brought to a
successful termination. But you must hold me excused if I remind you
that he is not likely to yield, even to you, on easy terms. I have
heard something of this King David at the English court, and I gather
that, albeit he lacks the mind and subtlety which made his father
great, he lacks not the courage or the prowess in war which has so long
been associated with the name of Bruce."