MORE WORDS AT THE CROSS
I got into my old place again on the steps of the cross, Will Green
beside me, and above me John Ball and Jack Straw again. The moon was
half-way up the heavens now, and the short summer night had begun, calm
and fragrant, with just so much noise outside our quiet circle as made
one feel the world alive and happy.
We waited silently until we had heard John Ball and the story of what
was to do; and presently he began to speak.
"Good people, it is begun, but not ended. Which of you is hardy enough
to wend the road to London to-morrow?"
"All! All!" they shouted.
"Yea," said he, "even so I deemed of you. Yet forsooth hearken!
London is a great and grievous city; and mayhappen when ye come thither
it shall seem to you overgreat to deal with, when ye remember the
little townships and the cots ye came from.
"Moreover, when ye dwell here in Kent ye think forsooth of your
brethren in Essex or Suffolk, and there belike an end. But from London
ye may have an inkling of all the world, and over-burdensome maybe
shall that seem to you, a few and a feeble people.
"Nevertheless I say to you, remember the Fellowship, in the hope of
which ye have this day conquered; and when ye come to London be wise
and wary; and that is as much as to say, be bold and hardy; for in
these days are ye building a house which shall not be overthrown, and
the world shall not be too great or too little to hold it: for indeed
it shall be the world itself, set free from evil-doers for friends to
dwell in."
He ceased awhile, but they hearkened still, as if something more was
coming. Then he said:
"To-morrow we shall take the road for Rochester; and most like it were
well to see what Sir John Newton in the castle may say to us: for the
man is no ill man, and hath a tongue well-shapen for words; and it were
well that we had him out of the castle and away with us, and that we
put a word in his mouth to say to the King. And wot ye well, good
fellows, that by then we come to Rochester we shall be a goodly
company, and ere we come to Blackheath a very great company; and at
London Bridge who shall stay our host?
"Therefore there is nought that can undo us except our own selves and
our hearkening to soft words from those who would slay us. They shall
bid us go home and abide peacefully with our wives and children while
they, the lords and councillors and lawyers, imagine counsel and remedy
for us; and even so shall our own folly bid us; and if we hearken
thereto we are undone indeed; for they shall fall upon our peace with
war, and our wives and children they shall take from us, and some of us
they shall hang, and some they shall scourge, and the others shall be
their yoke-beasts--yea, and worse, for they shall lack meat more.
"To fools hearken not, whether they be yourselves or your foemen, for
either shall lead you astray.
"With the lords parley not, for ye know already what they would say to
you, and that is, 'Churl, let me bridle thee and saddle thee, and eat
thy livelihood that thou winnest, and call thee hard names because I
eat thee up; and for thee, speak not and do not, save as I bid thee.'
"All that is the end of their parleying.
"Therefore be ye bold, and again bold, and thrice bold! Grip the bow,
handle the staff, draw the sword, and set on in the name of the
Fellowship!"
He ended amid loud shouts; but straight-way answering shouts were
heard, and a great noise of the winding of horns, and I misdoubted a
new onslaught; and some of those in the throng began to string their
bows and handle their bills; but Will Green pulled me by the sleeve and
said:
"Friends are these by the winding of their horns; thou art quit for
this night, old lad." And then Jack Straw cried out from the cross:
"Fair and softly, my masters! These be men of our Fellowship, and are
for your guests this night; they are from the bents this side of
Medway, and are with us here because of the pilgrimage road, and that
is the best in these parts, and so the shortest to Rochester. And
doubt ye nothing of our being taken unawares this night; for I have
bidden and sent out watchers of the ways, and neither a man's son nor a
mare's son may come in on us without espial. Now make we our friends
welcome. Forsooth, I looked for them an hour later; and had they come
an hour earlier yet, some heads would now lie on the cold grass which
shall lie on a feather bed to-night. But let be, since all is well!
"Now get we home to our houses, and eat and drink and slumber this
night, if never once again, amid the multitude of friends and fellows;
and yet soberly and without riot, since so much work is to hand.
Moreover the priest saith, bear ye the dead men, both friends and foes,
into the chancel of the church, and there this night he will wake them:
but after to-morrow let the dead abide to bury their dead!"
Therewith he leapt down from the cross, and Will and I bestirred
ourselves and mingled with the new-comers. They were some three
hundred strong, clad and armed in all ways like the people of our
township, except some half-dozen whose armour shone cold like ice under
the moonbeams. Will Green soon had a dozen of them by the sleeve to
come home with him to board and bed, and then I lost him for some
minutes, and turning about saw John Ball standing behind me, looking
pensively on all the stir and merry humours of the joyous uplanders.
"Brother from Essex," said he, "shall I see thee again to-night? I were
fain of speech with thee; for thou seemest like one that has seen more
than most."
"Yea," said I, "if ye come to Will Green's house, for thither am I
bidden."
"Thither shall I come," said he, smiling kindly, "or no man I know in
field. Lo you, Will Green looking for something, and that is me. But
in his house will be song and the talk of many friends; and forsooth I
have words in me that crave to come out in a quiet place where they may
have each one his own answer. If thou art not afraid of dead men who
were alive and wicked this morning, come thou to the church when supper
is done, and there we may talk all we will."
Will Green was standing beside us before he had done, with his hand
laid on the priest's shoulder, waiting till he had spoken out; and as I
nodded Yea to John Ball he said:
"Now, master priest, thou hast spoken enough this two or three hours,
and this my new brother must tell and talk in my house; and there my
maid will hear his wisdom which lay still under the hedge e'en now when
the bolts were abroad. So come ye, and ye good fellows, come!"
So we turned away together into the little street. But while John Ball
had been speaking to me I felt strangely, as though I had more things
to say than the words I knew could make clear: as if I wanted to get
from other people a new set of words. Moreover, as we passed up the
street again I was once again smitten with the great beauty of the
scene; the houses, the church with its new chancel and tower,
snow-white in the moonbeams now; the dresses and arms of the people,
men and women (for the latter were now mixed up with the men); their
grave sonorous language, and the quaint and measured forms of speech,
were again become a wonder to me and affected me almost to tears.