THEY HEAR TIDINGS OF BATTLE AND MAKE THEM READY
He left off as one who had yet something else to say; and, indeed, I
thought he would give us some word as to the trysting-place, and
whither the army was to go from it; because it was now clear to me that
this gathering was but a band of an army. But much happened before
John Ball spoke again from the cross, and it was on this wise.
When there was silence after the last shout that the crowd had raised a
while ago, I thought I heard a thin sharp noise far away, somewhat to
the north of the cross, which I took rather for the sound of a trumpet
or horn, than for the voice of a man or any beast. Will Green also
seemed to have heard it, for he turned his head sharply and then back
again, and looked keenly into the crowd as though seeking to catch some
one's eye. There was a very tall man standing by the prisoner on the
horse near the outskirts of the crowd, and holding his bridle. This
man, who was well-armed, I saw look up and say something to the
prisoner, who stooped down and seemed to whisper him in turn. The tall
man nodded his head and the prisoner got off his horse, which was a
cleaner-limbed, better-built beast than the others belonging to the
band, and the tall man quietly led him a little way from the crowd,
mounted him, and rode off northward at a smart pace.
Will Green looked on sharply at all this, and when the man rode off,
smiled as one who is content, and deems that all is going well, and
settled himself down again to listen to the priest.
But now when John Ball had ceased speaking, and after another shout,
and a hum of excited pleasure and hope that followed it, there was
silence again, and as the priest addressed himself to speaking once
more, he paused and turned his head towards the wind, as if he heard
something, which certainly I heard, and belike every one in the throng,
though it was not over-loud, far as sounds carry in clear quiet
evenings. It was the thump-a-thump of a horse drawing near at a
hand-gallop along the grassy upland road; and I knew well it was the
tall man coming back with tidings, the purport of which I could well
guess.
I looked up at Will Green's face. He was smiling as one pleased, and
said softly as he nodded to me, "Yea, shall we see the grey-goose fly
this eve?"
But John Ball said in a great voice from the cross, "Hear ye the
tidings on the way, fellows! Hold ye together and look to your gear;
yet hurry not, for no great matter shall this be. I wot well there is
little force between Canterbury and Kingston, for the lords are looking
north of Thames toward Wat Tyler and his men. Yet well it is, well it
is!"
The crowd opened and spread out a little, and the men moved about in
it, some tightening a girdle, some getting their side arms more within
reach of their right hands, and those who had bows stringing them.
Will Green set hand and foot to the great shapely piece of polished red
yew, with its shining horn tips, which he carried, and bent it with no
seeming effort; then he reached out his hand over his shoulder and drew
out a long arrow, smooth, white, beautifully balanced, with a barbed
iron head at one end, a horn nock and three strong goose feathers at
the other. He held it loosely between the finger and thumb of his
right hand, and there he stood with a thoughtful look on his face, and
in his hands one of the most terrible weapons which a strong man has
ever carried, the English long-bow and cloth-yard shaft.
But all this while the sound of the horse's hoofs was growing nearer,
and presently from the corner of the road amidst the orchards broke out
our long friend, his face red in the sun near sinking now. He waved
his right hand as he came in sight of us, and sang out, "Bills and
bows! bills and bows!" and the whole throng turned towards him and
raised a great shout.
He reined up at the edge of the throng, and spoke in a loud voice, so
that all might hear him:
"Fellows, these are the tidings; even while our priest was speaking we
heard a horn blow far off; so I bade the sergeant we have taken, and
who is now our fellow-in-arms, to tell me where away it was that there
would be folk a-gathering, and what they were; and he did me to wit
that mayhappen Sir John Newton was stirring from Rochester Castle; or,
maybe, it was the sheriff and Rafe Hopton with him; so I rode off what
I might towards Hartlip, and I rode warily, and that was well, for as I
came through a little wood between Hartlip and Guildstead, I saw beyond
it a gleam of steel, and lo in the field there a company, and a pennon
of Rafe Hopton's arms, and that is blue and thereon three silver fish:
and a pennon of the sheriff's arms, and that is a green tree; and
withal another pennon of three red kine, and whose they be I know
not."[1]
"There tied I my horse in the middle of the wood, and myself I crept
along the dyke to see more and to hear somewhat; and no talk I heard to
tell of save at whiles a big knight talking to five or six others, and
saying somewhat, wherein came the words London and Nicholas Bramber,
and King Richard; but I saw that of men-at-arms and sergeants there
might be a hundred, and of bows not many, but of those outland
arbalests maybe a fifty; and so, what with one and another of servants
and tipstaves and lads, some three hundred, well armed, and the
men-at-arms of the best. Forsooth, my masters, there had I been but a
minute, ere the big knight broke off his talk, and cried out to the
music to blow up, 'And let us go look on these villeins,' said he; and
withal the men began to gather in a due and ordered company, and their
faces turned hitherward; forsooth, I got to my horse, and led him out
of the wood on the other side, and so to saddle and away along the
green roads; neither was I seen or chased. So look ye to it, my
masters, for these men will be coming to speak with us; nor is there
need for haste, but rather for good speed; for in some twenty or thirty
minutes will be more tidings to hand."
By this time one of our best-armed men had got through the throng and
was standing on the cross beside John Ball. When the long man had
done, there was confused noise of talk for a while, and the throng
spread itself out more and more, but not in a disorderly manner; the
bowmen drawing together toward the outside, and the billmen forming
behind them. Will Green was still standing beside me and had hold of
my arm, as though he knew both where he and I were to go.
"Fellows," quoth the captain from the cross, "belike this stour shall
not live to be older than the day, if ye get not into a plump together
for their arbalestiers to shoot bolts into, and their men-at-arms to
thrust spears into. Get you to the edge of the crofts and spread out
there six feet between man and man, and shoot, ye bowmen, from the
hedges, and ye with the staves keep your heads below the level of the
hedges, or else for all they be thick a bolt may win its way in."
He grinned as he said this, and there was laughter enough in the throng
to have done honour to a better joke.
Then he sung out, "Hob Wright, Rafe Wood, John Pargetter, and thou Will
Green, bestir ye and marshal the bowshot; and thou Nicholas Woodyer
shall be under me Jack Straw in ordering of the staves. Gregory Tailor
and John Clerk, fair and fine are ye clad in the arms of the Canterbury
bailiffs; ye shall shine from afar; go ye with the banner into the
highway, and the bows on either side shall ward you; yet jump, lads,
and over the hedge with you when the bolts begin to fly your way! Take
heed, good fellows all, that our business is to bestride the highway,
and not let them get in on our flank the while; so half to the right,
half to the left of the highway. Shoot straight and strong, and waste
no breath with noise; let the loose of the bowstring cry for you! and
look you! think it no loss of manhood to cover your bodies with tree
and bush; for one of us who know is worth a hundred of those proud
fools. To it, lads, and let them see what the grey goose bears between
his wings! Abide us here, brother John Ball, and pray for us if thou
wilt; but for me, if God will not do for Jack Straw what Jack Straw
would do for God were he in like case, I can see no help for it."
"Yea, forsooth," said the priest, "here will I abide you my fellows if
ye come back; or if ye come not back, here will I abide the foe.
Depart, and the blessing of the Fellowship be with you."
Down then leapt Jack Straw from the cross, and the whole throng set off
without noise or hurry, soberly and steadily in outward seeming. Will
Green led me by the hand as if I were a boy, yet nothing he said, being
forsooth intent on his charge. We were some four hundred men in all;
but I said to myself that without some advantage of the ground we were
lost men before the men-at-arms that long Gregory Tailor had told us
of; for I had not seen as yet the yard-long shaft at its work.
We and somewhat more than half of our band turned into the orchards on
the left of the road, through which the level rays of the low sun shone
brightly. The others took up their position on the right side of it.
We kept pretty near to the road till we had got through all the closes
save the last, where we were brought up by a hedge and a dyke, beyond
which lay a wide-open nearly treeless space, not of tillage, as at the
other side of the place, but of pasture, the common grazing ground of
the township. A little stream wound about through the ground, with a
few willows here and there; there was only a thread of water in it in
this hot summer tide, but its course could easily be traced by the deep
blue-green of the rushes that grew plenteously in the bed. Geese were
lazily wandering about and near this brook, and a herd of cows,
accompanied by the town bull, were feeding on quietly, their heads all
turned one way; while half a dozen calves marched close together side
by side like a plump of soldiers, their tails swinging in a kind of
measure to keep off the flies, of which there was great plenty. Three
or four lads and girls were sauntering about, heeding or not heeding
the cattle. They looked up toward us as we crowded into the last
close, and slowly loitered off toward the village. Nothing looked like
battle; yet battle sounded in the air; for now we heard the beat of the
horse-hoofs of the men-at-arms coming on towards us like the rolling of
distant thunder, and growing louder and louder every minute; we were
none too soon in turning to face them. Jack Straw was on our side of
the road, and with a few gestures and a word or two he got his men into
their places. Six archers lined the hedge along the road where the
banner of Adam and Eve, rising above the grey leaves of the
apple-trees, challenged the new-comers; and of the billmen also he kept
a good few ready to guard the road in case the enemy should try to rush
it with the horsemen. The road, not being a Roman one, was, you must
remember, little like the firm smooth country roads that you are used
to; it was a mere track between the hedges and fields, partly
grass-grown, and cut up by the deep-sunk ruts hardened by the drought
of summer. There was a stack of fagot and small wood on the other
side, and our men threw themselves upon it and set to work to stake the
road across for a rough defence against the horsemen.
What befell more on the road itself I had not much time to note, for
our bowmen spread themselves out along the hedge that looked into the
pasture-field, leaving some six feet between man and man; the rest of
the billmen went along with the bowmen, and halted in clumps of some
half-dozen along their line, holding themselves ready to help the
bowmen if the enemy should run up under their shafts, or to run on to
lengthen the line in case they should try to break in on our flank.
The hedge in front of us was of quick. It had been strongly plashed in
the past February, and was stiff and stout. It stood on a low bank;
moreover, the level of the orchard was some thirty inches higher than
that of the field and the ditch some two foot deeper than the face of
the field. The field went winding round to beyond the church, making a
quarter of a circle about the village, and at the western end of it
were the butts whence the folk were coming from shooting when I first
came into the village street.
Altogether, to me who knew nothing of war the place seemed defensible
enough. I have said that the road down which Long Gregory came with
his tidings went north; and that was its general direction; but its
first reach was nearly east, so that the low sun was not in the eyes of
any of us, and where Will Green took his stand, and I with him, it was
nearly at our backs.
[1] Probably one of the Calverlys, a Cheshire family, one of whom was a
noted captain in the French wars.