King Edward's assembly of knights that met at his first Round Table was
as typical a gathering as could well have been found of that age of
warlike chivalry. The King's idea was likewise typical of the age he
lived in. He had begun to see something of that decline of chivalry
which was the natural outcome of a real advance in general civilization,
and of increasing law and order, however slow its progress might be.
Greatly deploring any decay in a system so much beloved and cherished by
knights and warriors, and not seeing that its light might merely be
paling in the rise of something more truly bright and beneficent, the
King resolved to do everything in his power to give an impetus to all
chivalrous undertakings by assembling together his knights after the
fashion of the great King Arthur, and with them to take counsel how the
ways and usages of chivalry might best be preserved, the old spirit kept
alive, and the interests of piety and religion (with which it should
ever be blended) be truly considered.
How far this festival succeeded in its object can scarcely be told now.
The days of chivalry (in the old acceptation of the term) were drawing
to a close, and an attempt to galvanize into life a decaying institution
is seldom attended with any but very moderate success. From the fact
that we hear so little of the King's Round Table, and from the few times
it ever met, one is led to conclude that the results were small and
disappointing. But the brilliance of the first assembly cannot be
doubted; and for the twins of Gascony it was a wonderful day, and marked
an epoch in their lives; for on that occasion they saw for the first
time the mighty King, whose name had been familiar to them from
childhood, and had actual speech with the Prince of Wales, that hero of
so many battlefields, known to history as the Black Prince.
So great was the crowd of esquires who waited upon the knights sitting
around the huge Round Table, that the Gascon brothers only struggled for
a few minutes into the gay assemblage to look at what was going on
there. The table was itself a curiosity -- a huge ring round which, in
beautifully carved seats, the knights sat, each seat fitting into the
next, with an arm to divide them, the backs forming a complete circle
round the table. The King's seat was adorned with a richer carving, and
had a higher back, than the others, but that was its only distinction.
Within the circle of the table were pages flitting about, attending on
the guests; and the esquires who thronged the corridors or supplemented
the attentions of the pages were considerably more numerous than the
occasion required, so that these were to be seen gathering in groups
here and there about the building in the vicinity of the feast,
discussing the proceedings or talking of public or private matters.
Very wonderful was all this to Gaston and Raymond, but not quite so
bewildering as it would have been a month ago. They had been about the
Court some little time now, and were growing used to the fine dresses,
the English ways of speech, and the manners and customs which had
perplexed them not a little at first. They were greatly entertained by
watching the shifting throng of courtiers, and their one glimpse at the
royal countenance of the King had been fraught with keen pleasure and
satisfaction; but so far as they knew it, they had not yet seen the
Prince of Wales, and they had not caught sight either of their cousins
Oliver or Bernard, though they had found John sitting in the embrasure
of a window in the corridor, watching the scene with the same interest
which they felt in it themselves.
When they saw him they joined him, and asked the names of some of the
gay personages flitting about. John good-naturedly amused them with a
number of anecdotes of the Court; and as the three were thus chatting
together, they were suddenly joined by another group of three, who
advanced along the corridor talking in low tones but with eager excitement.
"Here comes the Prince," said John, rising to his feet, and the twin
brothers turned eagerly round.
They knew in an instant which of the three was the Prince, for his
companions were John's two brothers, Oliver and Bernard. Young Edward
was at that time not quite fourteen, but so strong, so upright, so well
grown, and of such a kingly presence, that it was hard to believe he had
scarcely left his childhood behind. His tunic was of cloth of gold, with
the royal arms embroidered upon it. He wore a golden collar round his
neck, and his golden girdle held a dagger with a richly-jewelled hilt. A
short velvet mantle lined with ermine hung over his shoulder, and was
fastened by a clasp richly chased and set with rubies. His face was
flushed as if with some great purpose, and his eyes shone brightly with
excitement.
"It shall never be true -- I will not believe it!" he was saying, in
urgent accents. "Let chivalry once die out, and so goes England's glory.
May I die ere I live to see that day! Better a thousand times death in
some glorious warfare, in some knightly deed of daring, than to drag out
a life of ease and sloth with the dying records of the glorious past
alone to cheer and sustain one. Good John, thou art a man of letters --
thou canst read the signs of the times -- prithee tell me that there be
no truth in this dark whisper. Sure the days of chivalry are not half
lived through yet!"
"Nor will be so long as you are spared to England, gentle Prince,"
answered John, with his slight peculiar smile. "You and your royal Sire
together will keep alive the old chivalry at which was dealt so sore a
blow in your grandsire's days. A reign like that of weakness and folly
and treachery leaves its mark behind; but England's chivalry has lived
through it --"
"Ay, and she shall awake to new and fuller life!" cried the ardent boy.
"What use in being born a prince if something cannot thus be done to
restore what has been lost? And why should princes stand idle when the
world is all in arms? Comrades, do ye long as I do to show the world
that though we have not yet won our knighthood's spurs, we are yet ready
and willing to sally forth, even as did the knights of old, upon some
quest of peril or adventure? Why is it that I, who should by rights be
one to show what may be done by a boy's arm with a stout heart behind,
am ever held back from peril and danger, have never seen fighting save
in the tilt yard, or wound worse than what splintered spear may chance
to inflict? I burn to show the world what a band of youths can do who go
forth alone on some errand of true chivalry. Comrades, give me your
ears. Let me speak to you of the purpose in my heart. This day has my
father, in the hearing of all men, lamented the wane of chivalry, has
spoken brave words of encouragement to those who will strive with him to
let it be no hollow name amongst us. Then who more fit than his own son
to go forth now -- at once, by stealth if need be -- upon such a quest
of peril and glory? nay, not for the glory -- that may or may not be
ours -- but upon a mission of chivalrous service to the weak and
helpless? This thing I purpose to do myself, together with some few
chosen comrades. Brothers of Brocas, will ye go with me?"
"We will! we will!" cried the three brothers in a breath.
"We will!" echoed the twins of Gascony, forgetting all but their eager
desire to share the peril and the glory of the Prince's enterprise,
whatever it might be.
Young Edward heard the sound of the strange voices, and turned a quick
glance of inquiry upon the youths. He saw that they wore the livery of
Sir James Audley, who was a great favourite even then with the Prince.
The true kingly courtesy of the Plantagenets was ingrained in the nature
of this princely boy, and he looked with a smile at the two eager faces
before him.
"And who be ye, fair gentlemen?" he asked. "Methinks the badge you wear
is answer almost enough. I know your good lord well, and love him well,
and sure there be none of his esquires, be they never so young, who
would disgrace their master by fleeing in an hour of peril. Wherefore if
ye would fain be of the band I seek to muster round me, I will bid you
ready welcome. I seek none that be above twenty years of age.
"Good John, you shall be the wise man of our party. These lads have not
lived many more years than I have myself, or I am much mistaken."
"We are twin brothers," said Gaston frankly, "and we are nigh upon
sixteen. We have been with Sir James a matter of two months. We --"
"They met him in the woods of Gascony," cried Oliver, "and rescued him
from the attacks of a pack of fierce wolves. I trow they would bear
themselves bravely be your quest what it may."
"Are you Gascons?" asked the Prince, looking with keener interest at the
two youths; for he shared some of his father's instincts of government,
and was always well disposed towards Gascon subjects.
"We are half Gascon and half English, may it please you, fair Prince,"
answered Gaston readily, "and we will follow you to the death."
"I well believe it, my good comrades," answered the Prince quickly; "and
right glad shall we be of your company and assistance. For our errand
lies amidst dark forests with their hidden perils and dangers, and I wot
that none know better what such dangers are nor how they may be escaped
than our brethren of Gascony."
"Then you know on what quest we are bent, sweet Prince?"
Edward nodded his head as he looked over his shoulder. "Ay, that I do
right well, and that will I tell you incontinently if no eavesdroppers
be about. Ye know that of late days brave knights and gentlemen have
been mustering to our Court from all parts of this land? Now amongst
these is one Sir Hugh Vavasour, who comes from his house of Woodcrych,
not half a day's ride from our Royal Palace of Guildford; and with him
he has brought his son, one Alexander, with whom I yestere'en fell into
converse. I say not that I liked the youth himself. He seemed to me
something over bold, yet lacking in those graces of chivalry that are so
dear to us. Still it was in talking with him that I heard this thing
which has set my blood boiling in my veins."
"What thing is that, fair Prince?" asked John.
And then the young Edward told his tale. It was such a tale as was only
too often heard in olden days, though it did not always reach the ears
of royalty. The long and expensive, and as yet somewhat fruitless, wars
in which Edward had been engaged almost ever since he came to the
throne, had greatly impoverished his subjects, and with poverty there
arose those other evils inseparable from general distress -- robbery,
freebooting, crime in its darkest and ugliest aspects; bands of hungry
men, ruined and beggared, partly perhaps through misfortune, but partly
through their own fault, wandering about the country ravaging and
robbing, leaving desolation behind them, and too often, if opposed,
committing acts of brutal cruelty upon defenceless victims, as a warning
to others.
A band such as this was just now scouring the woods around Guildford.
Young Vavasour had heard of depredations committed close against the
walls of his own home, and had heard of many outrages which had been
suffered by the poor folks around. Cattle had been driven off, their
hardly-gathered fuel had vanished in the night; sometimes lonely houses
were attacked, and the miserable inhabitants, if they offered
resistance, stabbed to the heart by the marauders. One or two girls had
been missed from their homes, and were said to have fallen a prey to the
robber band. All these things, and the latter item especially, stirred
the hot blood in the young Prince's veins, and he was all on fire to do
some doughty deed that should at once exterminate such evildoers from
the face of the earth, strike terror into the hearts of other bands, and
show that the spirit of chivalry was yet alive in the kingdom, and that
the King's son was the first to fly to the succour of the distressed and
the feeble.
"For I will go myself and hunt these miscreants as though they were dogs
or wolves -- beasts of prey that needs must be put down with a strong
hand. I will not tell my father the tale, else might he appoint warriors
of his own to see to the matter, and the glory be theirs and not ours.
No, this is a matter for my arm to settle. I will collect around me a
band of our bravest youths -- they shall all be youths like myself. Our
good John knows well the country around our Palace of Guildford -- in
truth I know it indifferently well myself. We will sally forth together
-- my father will grant me leave to go thither with a body of youths of
my own choosing -- and thence we will scour the forests, scatter or slay
these vile disturbers of the peace, restore the lost maidens to their
homes, and make recompense to our poor subjects for all they have
suffered at their hands."
It was just the scheme to fascinate the imagination and fire the ardour
of a number of high-spirited and generous boys. The proximity of the
Royal Palace of Guildford gave them every facility for carrying out the
plan speedily and yet secretly, and the Prince had quickly enlisted a
score of well-trained, well-equipped lads to follow him on his
chivalrous quest. Sir James gave ready consent to his petition that the
Gascon twins might join his train for a few days. The King, when he gave
his sanction to the proposed expedition to Guildford, believed that his
son was going there bent on sport or some boyish pastime, and scarce
bestowed a second thought upon the matter. The royal children had each
their own attendants and establishment, following wherever their
youthful master or mistress went; and to the eldest son of the King a
very decided liberty was given, of which his father had never yet had
cause to repent.
Thus it came about that three days after the King's great feast of the
Round Table had ended, the Prince of Wales, with a following of twenty
young comrades, in addition to his ordinary staff of attendants, rode
forth from the Castle of Windsor in the tardy winter's dawn, and before
night had fallen the gay and gallant little band had reached the Palace
of Guildford, which had received due notice of the approach of the
King's son. Those who were sharp-eyed amongst the spectators of this
departure might have noted that the Prince and his immediate followers
each wore round his arm a band of black ribbon with a device embroidered
upon it. The device was an eagle worked in gold, and was supposed to be
emblematic of the swiftness and the strength that were to characterize
the expedition of the Prince, when he should swoop down upon the
dastardly foes, and force them to yield up their ill-gotten gains. These
badges had been worked by the clever fingers of Edward's sisters, the
youthful princesses Isabella and Joanna. Joanna, as the wardrobe rolls
of the period show, was a most industrious little maiden with her
needle, and must have spent the best part of her time in her favourite
pastime of embroidery, judging by the amount of silk and other material
required by her for her own private use. Both the sisters were devotedly
attached to their handsome brother, and were the sharers of his
confidences. They knew all about this secret expedition, and sympathized
most fully with it. It was Joanna's ready wit which had suggested the
idea of the badge, which idea was eagerly caught up by Edward; for to go
forth with a token woven by the fair hands of ladies would give to the
exploit a spice of romantic chivalry that would certainly add to its
zest. So for the past three days the royal sisters had been plying their
needles with the utmost diligence, and each of the gallant little band
knew that he wore upon his arm a token embroidered for him by the hands
of a youthful princess.
Of the Royal Palace of Guildford nothing now remains -- even the site is
not known with any certainty, though it is supposed to have occupied the
spot where Guildford Park farm now stands. Its extensive park covered a
large area of ground, and was a favoured hunting ground for many of the
illustrious Plantagenets.
It need hardly be said with what interest and curiosity the twin
brothers gazed about them as they neared the little town of Guildford,
where their uncle, Master Bernard de Brocas, possessed a gradually
increasing property. They felt that this journey was the first step
towards Basildene; and utterly ignorant as they were of its exact
locality, they wondered if they might not be passing it by whenever some
ancient Manor House reared its chimneys or gables above the bare
encircling trees, and their hearts beat high at the thought that they
were drawing near to their own lost inheritance.
The Palace was warmly lighted in honour of the arrival of the Prince of
Wales; and as the little cavalcade dismounted at the door and entered
the noble hall, a figure, habited after the fashion of the ecclesiastics
of the day, stepped forth to greet the scion of royalty, and the twin
brothers heard their comrades mutter,
"It is the good Rector, Master Bernard de Brocas."
The young Prince plainly knew the Rector well, and after just bending
his knee to ask the blessing, as was his reverent custom, he led him
into the banqueting hall, where a goodly meal lay spread, placing him in
a seat at his own right hand, and asking him many things as the meal
progressed, leading the talk deftly to the robbers' raids, and seeking,
without betraying his purpose, to find out where these miscreants might
most readily be found.
The good Rector had heard much about them, but knew little enough of
their movements. One day they were heard of in one place, and again they
would vanish, and no man would know whither they had gone till they
appeared in another. Everywhere they left behind them desolated homes,
and bloodshed and ruin followed in their track. Master Bernard had heard
too many such tales from all parts of the kingdom to heed overmuch what
went on in this particular spot. He knew that the winter's privation and
cold acted upon savage men almost as it did upon wolves and ravenous
beasts, and that in a country harassed and overtaxed such things must
needs be. He never suspected the cause of the Prince's eagerness. He
believed that the youths had come down bent on sport, and that they
would take far more interest in the news he had to give them, that a
wild boar had recently been seen in the forest aisles of the Royal Park,
and that the huntsmen would be ready to sally forth to slay it at a
single word from the Prince.
Edward's eyes lighted at this. It seemed to him a fortunate coincidence.
Also he would be glad enough to see the killing of the boar, though he
was more interested in the expedition it would involve into the heart of
the forest.
"Prithee give orders, good Master Bernard, that the huntsmen be ready
tomorrow morning at dawn of day. I trow there be horses and to spare to
mount us all, as our own beasts will be something weary from the journey
they have taken today. We will be ready ere the sun is up, and if kind
fortune smiles upon us, I trust I shall have the good fortune to have a
pair of fine tusks to offer to my sisters when they join us here, as
they shortly hope to do."
Master Bernard, who was a man of no small importance all through this
neighbourhood, hastened away to give the needful orders. He had come
from his own Rectory hard by to receive the Prince and his comrades, and
he suspected that the King would be well pleased for him to remain
beneath the roof of the castle so long as this gay and youthful party
did so.
When night came and the youths sought the rooms which had been made
ready for them, the Prince signed to a certain number of his comrades to
repair with him to his chamber, as though he desired their services at
his toilet. Amongst those thus summoned were the three sons of Sir John
de Brocas, and also the Gascon twins, for whom young Edward appeared to
have taken a great liking, and who on their part warmly returned this
feeling. Shutting the door carefully, and making sure that none but
friends were round him, the Prince unfolded his plan.
He had learned from the Master Huntsman, whom he had seen for a few
minutes before going to his room, that the boar lay concealed for the
most part in some thick underwood lying in the very heart of the forest
many miles distant, right away to the southwest in the direction of
Woodcrych. This part of the forest was fairly well known to the Prince
from former hunting expeditions, and he and John both remembered well
the hut of a lonely woodman that lay hidden in the very depths of the
wood near this spot. It had occurred to Edward as likely that old Ralph
would be better acquainted with the habits of the robbers than any other
person could be. He was too poor to be made a mark for their rapacity,
yet from his solitary life in the forest he might likely enough come
across their tracks, and be able to point out their hiding places.
Therefore the Prince's plan was that he and the picked companions he
should choose should slip away from the main body of the huntsmen, and
make their way to this lonely cabin, joining their comrades later when
they had discovered all that they could do from the old man. The shouts
of the huntsmen and the baying of the dogs would guide them to the scene
of the chase, and if the rest who remained all the while with the
foresters and the dogs missed the Prince from amongst their ranks, they
were not to draw attention to the fact, but were rather to strive to
conceal it from the Master Huntsman, who might grow uneasy if he found
the young Edward missing. It was of importance that all inquiries
respecting the robbers should be conducted with secrecy, for if the
Prince's curiosity on the subject were once to be known, suspicion might
be aroused, or a regular expedition against them organized, the glory
and credit of which would not belong in anything but empty name to the
Prince.
It was not, perhaps, unnatural that the six lads who had first conned
over the plan together should be selected as the ones to make this
preliminary inquiry. John was chosen for his seniority and the prudence
of his counsels, his brothers for their bravery and fleetness of foot,
and the Gascon twins for their close acquaintance with forest tracks,
and their greater comprehension of the methods employed in following the
trail of foes or fugitives through tangled woods. They would likely
enough understand the old man's counsel better than any of the others;
and as the sport of hunting the boar was more esteemed by the other
youths than the expedition to the woodman's hut, no jealousy was aroused
by the Prince's choice, and the scheme was quickly made known to the
whole of the party.
The morrow proved a first-rate day for a hunting party in the forest. A
light crisp snow lay on the ground, melting where exposed to the sun's
rays, but forming a sparkling white carpet elsewhere. It was not deep
enough to inconvenience either men or horses, and would scarce have
fallen to any depth beneath the trees of the forest; but there was just
sufficient to be an excellent guide in tracking down the quarry, and all
felt confident that the wily old boar had seen his last sunrise.
Merrily rode the party forth through the great gateway and across the
fine park in the direction of the forest. The Prince and his five chosen
comrades rode together, sometimes speaking in low tones, sometimes
joining in the gay converse on the subject of hunting which went on
around them. But the Prince's thoughts were far less with sport than
with the wrongs of his father's subjects, and the cruel outrages which
they had suffered unredressed and almost unpitied. His heart burned
within him to think that in merry England, as he liked to call it, and
in the days of chivalry, such things were possible; and to put down
cruelty and rapacity with a strong hand seemed of infinitely more
importance to him than the pursuit of a fine sport.
Thus musing, and thus talking in low tones to the thoughtful John, the
Prince dropped a little behind the muster of huntsmen. His chosen
comrades followed his example, and straggled rather aimlessly after the
main body, till at last a turn in the forest shut these completely from
their view.
"Now," said the Prince, turning to his five selected comrades, "this, if
I mistake not, is our road. We will soon see if we cannot get upon the
track of the miscreants whom I am burning to punish and destroy!"