A DASTARDLY STRATAGEM.
The return of Sir Rudolph's party to Evesham was not unmarked by
incident, for as they passed along the road, from an ambush in a wood
other archers, whose numbers they could not discover, shot hard upon
them, and many fell there who had escaped from the square at Worcester.
When the list was called upon the arrival at the castle, it was found
that no less than thirty of those who had set out were missing, while
many others were grievously wounded.
The noise of the tumult in the square of the convent aroused the whole
town of Worcester. Alarm bells were rung; and the burgesses, hastily
arming themselves, poured into the streets. Directed by the sound, they
made their way to the square, and were astonished at finding it entirely
deserted, save for some twenty men, lying dead or dying in front of the
gate of the convent, pierced with long arrows. They speedily found that
Sir Rudolph and his troop had departed; and further inquiry revealed the
fact that the burgher guard at one of the gates had been overpowered and
were prisoners in the watchroom. These could only say that they were
suddenly seized, all being asleep save the one absolutely on guard. They
knew nothing more than that a few minutes later there was a great
clatter of horsemen and men on foot leaving the city. Unable to find any
solution to this singular circumstance, but satisfied that Sir Rudolph
had departed, and that no more disturbance was likely to arise that
night, the burgesses again betook themselves to their beds, having
closed the gates and placed a strong guard over them, determining next
morning to sift the affair to the bottom.
In the morning the leading burgesses met in council, and finding none
who could give them any information, the mayor and two of the councilors
repaired to the convent, where they asked for an interview with the lady
abbess. Mightily indignant were they at hearing that Sir Rudolph had
attempted to break into the convent, and to carry off a boarder residing
there. But the abbess herself could give them no further news. She said
that after she retired from the window she heard great shouts and cries,
and that almost immediately afterward the whole of the party in front
hastily retired.
That Sir Rudolph had been attacked by a party of archers was evident;
but whence they had shot, or how they had come upon the spot at the
time, or whither they had gone, were mysteries that could not be solved.
In the search which the authorities made, however, it was discovered
that the house of the draper, Master Nicholas, was closed. Finding that
summonses to open were unanswered, the door was broken in, and the
premises were found in confusion. No goods of any kind were discovered
there, but many bales filled with dried leaves, bark of trees, and other
worthless matters. Such goods as had been displayed in the window had
clearly been carried away. Searching the house, they found signs that a
considerable number of men had been concealed there, and although not
knowing whence the body of archers could have come, they concluded that
those who defeated the attempt of Sir Rudolph must have been hidden in
the draper's house. The singularity of this incident gave rise to great
excitement; but the indignation against Sir Rudolph was in no way
lessened by the fact that his attempt had been defeated, not by the
townsmen themselves, but by some unknown force.
After much consultation on the part of the council, it was resolved that
a deputation, consisting of the mayor and the five senior councilors,
should resort to London, and there demand from the prince redress for
the injury put upon their town by Sir Rudolph. These worthy merchants
betook themselves to London by easy stages, and upon their arrival there
were kept for some days before they could obtain an interview with King
John. When they appeared before him and commenced telling their story
the prince fell into sudden rage.
"I have heard of this matter before," he said, "and am mightily angry
with the people of Worcester, inasmuch as they have dared to interfere
to prevent the carrying out of my commands. The Earl of Evesham has
written to me, that thinking to scare the abbess of St. Anne's into a
compliance with the commands which I had laid upon her, and to secure
the delivery of a contumacious ward of the crown, he had pretended to
use force, having, however, no idea of carrying his threats into effect.
When, as he doubted not, the abbess was on the point of yielding up the
ward, the good knight was suddenly set upon by the rascals of the town,
who slew some of his companions and followers, and did grievously
ill-treat the remainder. This," said the prince, "you now pretend was
done by a party of men of whose presence in the town you had no
cognizance. Your good sense must be small, if you think that I should
believe such a tale as this. It is your rascaldom at Worcester which
interfered to prevent my will being carried out, and I have a goodly
mind to order the troop of Sir Charles Everest, which is now marching
toward Evesham, to sack the town, as a punishment for its rebellion. As,
however, I am willing to believe that you and the better class of
burgesses were in ignorance of the doings of the rougher kind, I will
extend mercy toward the city, and will merely inflict a fine of three
thousand golden marks upon it."
The mayor attempted humbly to explain and to entreat; but the prince was
seized with a sudden passion, and threatened if he said more he would at
once cast him and his fellows into durance. Therefore, sadly crestfallen
at the result of their mission, the mayor and councilors returned to
Worcester, where their report caused great consternation. This was
heightened by the fact that upon the following day Sir Charles Everest,
with five hundred mercenaries of the prince, together with Sir Rudolph
and his following, and several other barons favorable to the cause of
the prince, were heard to be approaching the town.
Worcester was capable of making a stout defense, but seeing that no help
was likely to be forthcoming, and fearing the utter ruin of the town
should it be taken by storm, the council, after sitting many hours in
deliberation, determined to raise the money required to pay the fine
inflicted by the prince. The bolder sort were greatly averse to this
decision, especially as a letter had been received, signed "Cuthbert,
Earl of Evesham," offering, should the townspeople decide to resist the
unjust demands of Prince John, to enter the town with one hundred and
fifty archers to take part in its defense. With this force, as the more
ardent spirits urged, the defeat of any attempt to carry it by storm
would be assured. But the graver men argued that even if defeated for
the first time further attempts would be made, and as it was likely that
King Richard would not return for a long time, and that Prince John
might become sovereign of England, sooner or later the town must be
taken, and, in any case, its trade would for a long time be destroyed,
and great suffering inflicted upon all; therefore, that it was better to
pay the fine now than to risk all these evils, and perhaps the
infliction of a heavier impost upon them.
The abbess was kept informed by friends in the council of the course of
the proceedings. She had in the meantime had another interview with Sir
Cuthbert and had determined, seeing that Prince John openly supported
the doings of his minion, it would be better to remove the Lady Margaret
to some other place, as no one could say how the affair might terminate;
and with five hundred mercenaries at his back, Sir Rudolph would be so
completely master of the city that he would be able in broad daylight,
did he choose, to force the gates of the convent and carry off the
king's ward.
Accordingly, two days before the arrival of the force before the walls
of Worcester, Lady Margaret left the convent by a postern gate in the
rear, late in the evening. She was attended by two of the sisters, both
of whom, as well as herself, were dressed as country women. Mules were
in readiness outside the city gates, and here Sir Cuthbert, with an
escort of archers, was ready to attend them. They traveled all night,
and arrived in the morning at a small convent situated five miles from
the city of Hereford. The abbess here was a cousin of the Superior of
St. Anne's, and had already consented to receive Lady Margaret. Leaving
her at the door, and promising that, as far as possible, he would keep
watch over her, and that even in the worst she need never despair, Sir
Cuthbert left her and returned to the forest.
The band there assembled varied considerably in numbers, for provisions
could not be found continually for a large body of men. The forest was
indeed very extensive, and the number of deer therein large. Still, for
the feeding of one hundred and fifty men many animals are required, and
other food. The franklins in the neighborhood were all hostile to Sir
Rudolph, whom they regarded as a cruel tyrant, and did their utmost in
the way of supplies for those in the forest. Their resources, however,
were limited, and it was found necessary to scatter the force, and for a
number of them to take up their residence in places a short distance
away, forty only remaining permanently on guard.
Sir Rudolph and his friends entered Worcester, and there received with
great hauteur the apologies of the mayor and council, and the assurance
that the townspeople were in nowise concerned in the attack made upon
him. To this he pretended disbelief. The fine demanded was paid, the
principal portion in gold, the rest in bills signed by the leading
merchants of the place; for after every effort it had been found
impossible to collect such a sum within the city.
The day after he arrived he again renewed his demand to the abbess for
the surrender of the Lady Margaret; this time, however, coming to her
attended only by two squires, and by a pursuivant bearing the king's
order for the delivery of the damsel. The abbess met him at the gate,
and informed him that the Lady Margaret was no longer in her charge.
"Finding," she said in a fearless tone, "that the holy walls of this
convent were insufficient to restrain lawless men, and fearing that
these might be tempted to acts of sacrilege, which might bring down upon
them the wrath of the church and the destruction of their souls, I have
sent her away."
"Whither has she gone?" Sir Rudolph demanded, half-mad with passion.
"That I decline to say," the lady abbess replied. "She is in good hands;
and when King Richard returns his ward shall be delivered to him at
once."
"Will you take oath upon the Bible that she is not within these walls?"
Sir Rudolph exclaimed.
"My word is sufficient," the lady abbess replied calmly. "But should it
be necessary, I should be ready to swear upon the relics that she is not
here."
A few hours later Sir Rudolph, attended by his own party and by one
hundred of Sir Charles Everest's mercenaries, returned to his castle.
Three days afterward, as Cuthbert was sitting at a rude but hearty meal
in the forest, surrounded by Cnut and his followers, a hind entered
breathless. Cuthbert at once recognized him as one of the servitors of
his mother.
"What is it?" he exclaimed, leaping to his feet.
"Terrible news, Master Cuthbert, terrible news!" exclaimed the man. "The
wicked earl came down this morning, with fifty of his men, set fire to
the house, and all its buildings and stacks, and has carried off the
lady, your mother, a prisoner to the castle, on a charge, as he said, of
harboring traitors."
A cry of fury broke from Cnut and his men.
"The false traitor shall bitterly regret this outrage," Cuthbert
exclaimed.
He had in the first excitement seized his arms, and his followers
snatched up their bows, as if for instant warfare. A few moments'
reflection, however, showed to Cuthbert the impossibility of his
attacking a fortress like Evesham, garrisoned by a strong body of
well-armed men, with only the archers of the forest, without implements
necessary for such an assault.
"Send at once, Cnut," he said, "and call in all the band. We cannot take
the castle; but we will carry fire and sword round its walls. We will
cut off all communication from within or from without. If attacked by
large forces, we will retire upon the wood, returning to our posts
without the walls as soon as the force is withdrawn. These heavily armed
men can move but slowly, while we can run at full speed. There cannot be
more than some twenty horsemen in the castle; and methinks with our
arrows and pikes we can drive these back if they attempt to fall upon
us."
Cnut at once sent off swift-footed messengers to carry out Cuthbert's
orders, and on the following day the whole of the band were again
assembled in the woods. Just as Cuthbert was setting them in motion a
distant blast of a horn was heard.
"It is," Cuthbert exclaimed, "the note calling for a parley. Do you,
Cnut, go forward, and see what is demanded. It is probably a messenger
from Sir Rudolph."
After half an hour's absence Cnut returned, bringing with him a
pursuivant or herald. The latter advanced at once toward Cuthbert, who,
now in his full knightly armor, was evidently the leader of the party.
"I bear to you, Sir Cuthbert, falsely calling yourself Earl of Evesham,
a message from Sir Rudolph. He bids me tell you that the traitress, Dame
Editha, your mother, is in his hands, and that she has been found guilty
of aiding and abetting you in your war against Prince John, the regent
of this kingdom. For that offense she has been condemned to die."
Here he was interrupted by a cry of rage which broke from the assembled
foresters. Continuing unmoved, he said:
"Sir Rudolph, being unwilling to take the life of a woman, however
justly forfeited by the law, commands me to say that if you will deliver
yourself up to him by to-morrow at twelve the Dame Editha shall be
allowed to go free. But that if by the time the dial points to noon you
have not delivered yourself up, he will hang her over the battlements of
the castle."
Cuthbert was very pale, and he waved his hand to restrain the fury which
animated the outlaws.
"This man," he said to them, "is a herald, and, as such, is protected by
all the laws of chivalry. Whatsoever his message, it is none of his. He
is merely the mouthpiece of him who sent him." Then, turning to the
herald, he said, "Tell the false knight, your master, on my part, that
he is a foul ruffian, perjured to all the vows of knighthood; that this
act of visiting upon a woman the enmity he bears her son will bring upon
him the execration of all men; and that the offer which he makes me is
as foul and villainous as himself. Nevertheless, knowing his character,
and believing that he is capable of keeping his word, tell him that by
to-morrow at noon I will be there; that the lady, my mother, is to leave
the castle gates as I enter them; and that though by his foul device he
may encompass my death, yet that the curse of every good man will light
upon him, that he will be shunned as the dog he is, and that assuredly
Heaven will not suffer that deeds so foul should bring with them the
prize he seeks to gain."
The herald bowed, and, escorted by two archers to the edge of the
forest, returned to Evesham Castle.
After his departure an animated council took place. Cnut and the
outlaws, burning with indignation, were ready to attempt anything. They
would, had Cuthbert given the word, have attacked the castle that very
night. But Cuthbert pointed out the absolute impossibility of their
carrying so strong a place by such an assault, unprovided with engines
for battering down the gates. He said that surprise would be impossible,
as the knight would be sure to take every precaution against it; and
that in the event of such an attack being attempted, he would possibly
carry his threat into execution, and murder Dame Editha before their
eyes. Cnut was like a madman, so transported with fury was he; and the
archers were also beside themselves. Cuthbert alone retained his
calmness. Retiring apart from the others, he paced slowly backward and
forward among the trees, deliberating upon the best course to be
pursued. The archers gathered round the fire and passed the night in
long and angry talk, each man agreeing that in the event of their
beloved leader being sacrificed by Sir Rudolph, they would one and all
give their lives to avenge him by slaying the oppressor whensoever he
ventured beyond the castle gates.
After a time, Cuthbert called Cnut to him, and the two talked long and
earnestly. Cnut returned to his comrades with a face less despairing
than that he had before worn, and sent off at once a messenger with all
speed to a franklin near the forest to borrow a stout rope some fifty
feet in length, and without telling his comrades what the plans of Sir
Cuthbert were, bade them cheer up, for that desperate as the position
was, all hope was not yet lost.
"Sir Cuthbert," he said, "has been in grievous straits before now, and
has gone through them. Sir Rudolph does not know the nature of the man
with whom he has to deal, and we may trick him yet."
At eleven o'clock the next day from the walls of Evesham Castle a body
of archers one hundred and fifty strong were seen advancing in solid
array.
"Think you, Sir Rudolph," one of his friends, Sir Hubert of Gloucester,
said to him, "that these varlets think of attacking the castle?"
"They might as well think of scaling heaven," Sir Rudolph said. "Evesham
could resist a month's siege by a force well equipped for the purpose;
and were it not that good men are wanted for the king's service, and
that these villains shoot straight and hard, I would open the gates of
the castle and launch our force against them. We are two to one as
strong as they, and our knights and mounted men-at-arms could alone
scatter that rabble."
Conspicuous upon the battlements a gallows had been erected.
The archers stopped at a distance of a few hundred yards from the
castle, and Sir Cuthbert advanced alone to the edge of the moat.
"Sir Rudolph of Eresby, false knight and perjured gentleman," he shouted
in a loud voice, "I, Sir Cuthbert of Evesham, do denounce you as
foresworn and dishonored, and do challenge you to meet me here before
the castle in sight of your men and mine, and decide our quarrel as
Heaven may judge with sword and battle-ax."
Sir Rudolph leaned over the battlements, and said: "It is too late,
varlet. I condescended to challenge you before, and you refused. You
cannot now claim what you then feared to accept. The sun on the dial
approaches noon, and unless you surrender yourself before it reaches the
mark, I will keep my word, and the traitress, your mother, shall swing
from that beam."
Making a sign to two men-at-arms, these brought forward Dame Editha and
so placed her on the battlements that she could be seen from below. Dame
Editha was still a very fair woman, although nigh forty years had rolled
over her head. No sign of fear appeared upon her face, and in a firm
voice she cried to her son:
"Cuthbert, I beg--nay, I order you to retire. If this unknightly lord
venture to carry out his foul threats against me, let him do so. England
will ring with the dastardly deed, and he will never dare show his face
again where Englishmen congregate. Let him do his worst. I am prepared
to die."
A murmur rose from the knights and men-at-arms standing round Sir
Rudolph. Several of his companions had from the first, wild and
reckless as they were, protested against Sir Rudolph's course, and it
was only upon his solemn assurance that he intended but to frighten Sir
Cuthbert into surrender, and had no intention of carrying his threats
against the lady into effect, that they had consented to take part in
the transaction. Even now, at the fearless words of the Saxon lady
several of them hesitated, and Sir Hubert of Gloucester stepped forward
to Sir Rudolph.
"Sir knight," he said, "you know that I am your true comrade and the
faithful servant of Prince John. Yet in faith would I not that my name
should be mixed up in so foul a deed. I repent me that I have for a
moment consented to it. But the shame shall not hang upon the escutcheon
of Hubert of Gloucester that he stood still when such foul means were
tried. I pray you, by our long friendship, and for the sake of your own
honor as a knight, to desist from this endeavor. If this lady be guilty,
as she well may be of aiding her son in his assaults upon the soldiers
of Prince John, then let her be tried, and doubtless the court will
confiscate her estates. But let her son be told that her life is in no
danger, and that he is free to go, being assured that harm will not come
to her."
"And if I refuse to consent to allow my enemy, who is now almost within
my hand, to escape," Sir Rudolph said, "what then?"
"Then," said the knight, "I and my following will at once leave your
walls, and will clear ourselves to the brave young knight yonder of all
hand in this foul business."
A murmur of agreement from several of those standing round showed that
their sentiments were in accordance with those of Sir Hubert.
"I refuse," said Rudolph passionately. "Go, if you will. I am master of
my actions, and of this castle."
Without a word, Sir Hubert and two others of the knights present turned,
and briefly ordering their men-at-arms to follow them, descended the
staircase to the courtyard below. Their horses were brought out, the men
fell into rank, and the gates of the castle were thrown open.
"Stand to arms!" Sir Cuthbert shouted to the archers. "They are going to
attempt a sortie." And hastily he retired to the main body of his men.