On the evening of the nineteenth of August, and at the hour of
half-past six, was seen riding alone, through the woodland, then lying
about three miles to the right of the direct road from Lichfield to
Tamworth, a gentleman mounted on a powerful black horse. No pleasant
ride was it he was taking; for by this time, one of those violent
thunder storms which so frequently interrupt the brief course of an
English summer, and which were both more severe and more frequent when
the land was better wooded than it is at present, had broke upon the
earth, after it had been menacing in the sky all the morning. I am
fond of describing thunder storms, having watched many a one in all
its changes for hours; and there is infinite variety in them too, so
that a dozen might be described, and no two alike; but, as I have done
so more than once before, I would certainly have said nothing of this
storm, had it not been an historical one, and connected with an
incident of some interest in English history. Suffice it, however,
that the thunder seemed to shake the very earth, rattling amongst the
trees of the forest as if immense masses of stone had been cast
through them by some tremendous engine. The lightning gleamed all
around, before, behind, overhead, in amongst the trees, under the
green leaves and boughs seeming to display for an instant all the dark
recesses of the forest, as if they had been suddenly lighted up by a
thousand torches, and then leaving them in blacker shade than before.
For the roar of the thunder, for the flash of the lightning, that
traveller would have cared very little; but for the increasing
darkness of the day, which seemed to anticipate the setting of the
sun, and for the deluge which poured from the sky, drenching himself,
his horse, and his accoutrements, he did care. Had there been any
wind, the rain would have been blinding; but it came pouring down in
such torrents, straight, even, unceasing, that what between the
failing light, the vapour rising from the hot ground, and the
incessant dark drops, it was impossible to see for more than a hundred
or a hundred and fifty yards along the road.
Yet the traveller turned his head often as he rode, looking hither and
thither, wherever any opening in the wood appeared; and he went slowly
too, as if he were in no haste, or uncertain of the way. Still, as he
proceeded, he murmured to himself.
"This is most unfortunate. Perhaps 'twere better to go back; and yet,
in this blinding deluge, I might again miss the road, and wander
Heaven knows whither. What will they think too? Would to Heaven I had
brought the boy with me! True, he never was in this place in his life
before, any more than myself; but he seemed to have an instinct in
finding his way."
He rode on for about ten minutes more, and then exclaimed joyfully:
"There are some felled trees! There may be a woodman's cottage or some
forest but near--a horse, upon my life, and a woman's garments under
that shed. Woman, with all her faults, is ever a friend to the
distressed, a help in the time of peril;" and, turning his horse out
of the path, he rode quickly over some cleared ground, man[oe]uvring
skilfully amongst the felled trees and stumps with which the spot was
encumbered.
His course was directed towards a little open shed, into one side of
which the rain drove furiously; but immediately in the way, at the
distance of only a few feet from the shed itself, was a deep sawpit,
at either end of which were piles of timber, which he could not pass
without going round. Just opposite, however, under the partial shelter
which the shed afforded, was the form he had seen from the road; and
close by was the horse, a beautiful animal of pure Arab blood, covered
with splendid housings of velvet and gold, which were getting soaked
in the descending deluge. All that he could see of the woman was,
that, in figure, she was slight and graceful; for her hood was drawn
far over her head; and she stood in the farther part of the shed to
avoid the rain as much as possible. Her riding-suit, however, spoke no
lowly station; and it was with a tone of gentlemanly deference that
the stranger accosted her.
"Pardon me for addressing you, lady," he said; "for necessity compels
me to do so; and yet I fear, from finding you taking refuge here, that
my application will be fruitless. I have lost my way in this wood; and
I would fain know if I am near Tamworth, or if there be any place
where I can obtain shelter in the neighbourhood."
"You are far from Tamworth," said a sweet musical voice, "five or six
miles at least; and as to shelter, I have just sent an attendant to
see if there be any better place than this within a short distance. I,
myself, am not aware of any. He will be back immediately," she added;
"for I told him not to go far."
Perhaps there was a little apprehension in the latter part of her
reply; for, although the dress of the stranger was that of a high
rank, and his demeanour courteous, yet still he was a stranger; and,
to say truth, his features and expression, though not marked by any
violent passions, and hardly to be called repulsive, were not
altogether prepossessing.
"If you will permit me," he said, "I will wait till your attendant
returns, and crave a part of the roof that covers you."
What she replied he did not hear; for, at that instant, there was a
bright flash of lightning, which caused her to hide her eyes with her
hand, followed instantly by a tremendous roar of the thunder that
drowned every other sound. Before the rattling peal had ceased, for it
seemed to go round and round the whole sky, the stranger was by her
side, dismounted, and tying his horse at some distance from her own;
and Iola, with her eyes unshrouded, was examining his appearance
attentively. He was a man in the prime of life, tall and well formed,
but spare in person, and somewhat thin in face. The features were
good, but somewhat stern in character, with a forehead broad and high,
and a slight wrinkle between the brows. The whole expression was grave
and thoughtful, with a slight touch of shrewdness, and a cold,
inquiring, calculating eye. The second look, however, was more
satisfactory to Iola than the first had been. That grave, even stern,
looking man, was far more acceptable to her, as a companion at that
moment, than one of the gay light flutterers of the court would have
been. When his horse had been secured, the stranger pulled off his
hat, which was of a foreign fashion, and shook the wet from the broad
border and the plume; and then, turning to the lady, he said:
"I fear I break in upon your privacy; but I am sure your kindness will
forgive it, and trust that, if you have it in your power to give me
any information or direction, you will do so. Your own heart will
thank you; for it will be indeed a charity, and I shall be most
grateful."
"I know nothing of your need, sir," replied Iola. "All you have told
me is your wish to reach Tamworth, which is far. If you will tell me
what other information you may want, I will give it willingly, though
I know but little with any certainty."
"Business of importance, indeed, carries me to Tamworth," he answered;
"and I ought to have been there ere now; but we live in dangerous
times, and the country is in a troublous state, so that at every step
one may stumble upon some body of hostile troops."
"That is true," replied Iola; "for I am seeking, myself, to get beyond
these two lines of adversaries. If I knew which you had to fear,
perhaps I might give you information."
The stranger smiled. "Can you not tell me, in general terms, what you
know of the two armies?" he asked. "Then I may be able to judge."
"You fear to speak your faction to me," answered Iola; "and therein
you do me wrong; for, believe me, if you were king Richard himself, I
would not betray you to your enemy; nor, if the earl of Richmond, to
king Richard. Yet, perhaps, you are wise to keep your own counsel."
"I have always found it so," said the other, with a laugh. "Not that I
doubt you, dear lady; for you do not look like one who would injure
any one. But you can, as I have said, tell me generally."
"Well, then, I learn," said Iola, "that the king is at Leicester with
a large force, the earl of Richmond at Lichfield; Sir William Stanley,
on his march to join the king, moved yesterday to Atherston and the
Lord Stanley sought to pass through Fazely this morning, just between
us and Tamworth. Whether he passed or not I cannot tell."
"Retiring before the earl of Richmond's army," said the stranger,
musing. "But why think you he did not pass?"
"Because there were other troops in the village," answered Iola, "some
three or four hundred men, I learned, under the Lord Chartley."
"Then is Chartley at Fazely?" exclaimed the other, with a glad look.
"How far is Fazely hence, dear lady?"
"About three or four miles, I am told," answered Iola; "but I know not
that Lord Chartley is there now. When I came thence this morning, the
troops of Lord Stanley demanded admission, and were refused. Strife
was likely to ensue; and I was told to fly and seek safety at
Lichfield."
"Then now I know who you are," said the stranger, taking her hand;
"the Lady Iola St. Leger. Is it not so? I am a friend of Lord
Chartley's; and he wrote, to me, that he and you would be at Lichfield
to-night."
Iola blushed, she hardly knew why, and, when the thunder had ceased
echoing, replied,
"You have guessed right, sir; but I knew not that Lord Chartley had
written to any one. May I not know your name?"
The stranger paused for a moment thoughtfully, and then answered, "You
will think me discourteous; but yet, methinks, the rule I have laid
down it were best to adhere to. Much depends upon prudence in my case;
and it were better to be over discreet than rash."
"Then, my good lord, I know you too," replied Iola, with one of her
gay looks, beaming up for an instant, and then disappearing again like
a meteor over the night sky. "Shall I tell you whom I believe you to
be?"
"No," replied the stranger. "That might make me more discourteous
still, and neither answer yes or no to your surmise. But deal with me
merely as a friend of the Lord Chartley's, who wishes him well--as one
linked in the same cause with him, whose enemies are his enemies, and
let me hear anything you may judge necessary for me to know."
"I am quite sure I am right," answered Iola; "although it is a mystery
to me how you came hither alone, unattended, and certainly in a place
of danger."
"Good faith, it is a mystery to me too," replied the other; "but a
simple mystery, dear lady, and a foolish one. The truth is, I lost my
way. Now tell me, think you, from what you know, that I can cross
safely from this place to Tamworth?"
"No, indeed, my lord," replied Iola. "Lord Stanley's troops are most
likely in possession of Fazely; for I much fear that Lord Chartley's
men would be soon overpowered."
"Then why did Chartley refuse to let him pass?" demanded the stranger.
"All that Stanley could desire was to retreat in peace; but he was
compelled to clear a passage, at any risk, otherwise the earl's army
would cut him off from the king's host."
"Lord Chartley was not there," said Iola. "He had gone forth, they
informed me, early in the morning, and had not then returned; but I
can tell you little of the matter, for orders had been left to hurry
me away in case of danger. However, if even you could pass Fazely, and
could reach Tamworth, you would be in more danger still: for parties
of the king's troops were in possession of that place at a late hour
last night."
"They have been removed farther back," said the stranger, nodding his
head significantly; "and Stanley is in full retreat too, if this
unfortunate affair has not delayed him. Yet, it would be dangerous to
attempt to pass," he continued, musing; "for there is something
strange here; and one error were fatal. I must have farther
intelligence before I act."
"I trust we may have some soon," answered Iola; "for I know the slave
will not return without gathering tidings, if it be possible to get
them. I wish he would come, for, though it thunders less, the evening
is growing dark."
"Be not alarmed," replied the stranger. "As far as one arm can, I will
protect you, lady. I hold that point of chivalry to be the great and
most essential one, without which valour is the mere brute courage of
a bull, that teaches us to right the wronged, and to protect the
weak."
"I trust you are reserved for nobler things than even that, my lord,"
replied Iola, "and would not have you risk your life in my defence.
'Tis only that I may have to ride to Lichfield, through this dark
stormy night which makes me fear."
"Better not ride to Lichfield, at all," replied the stranger, "for
Lord Chartley's plans must have been altered by one circumstance or
another. He knew not yesterday that the earl of Richmond was to be at
Tamworth this night."
"I am but as a soldier, noble lord," replied Iola, with a faint smile,
"and must obey my orders. But, hark! I hear a horse's feet--my
faithful Arab, come to bring me news."
"God send the tidings be good," said her companion; and, advancing to
the other end of the shed, he exclaimed: "Heaven, what is this? In
this twilight, it seems like a spectre in a shroud!"
The next instant Ibn Ayoub rode up to the side of the shed, and sprang
to the ground casting the bridle free upon his horse's neck. He glared
for an instant at the stranger, with his black eyes flashing with
eagerness; and, then turning to Iola, he put his hand upon his head,
saying: "I have been long, lady; but, I could not help it. There is
neither house nor hut, for a mile and a half; and Heaven was sending
down streams of fire and water all the way."
"But what news from Fazely, Ibn Ayoub? What news from Fazely?" asked
Iola, eagerly.
The Arab gave a glance to the stranger, and she added: "Speak, speak!
You may speak freely. This gentleman is a friend. I know him."
"Well, then, lady, bad news," answered the Arab. "Lord Stanley had
taken the place, and gone on to Atherston. His rear guard hold it
still, however."
"But was there strife?" asked Iola, in eager terror.
"No," answered the Arab. "They dealt in words it seems; and when they
found that this lord had two thousand men and they but three hundred,
they gave up the place, upon condition that they might have half an
hour to go whithersoever they would."
"But your lord, your lord?" asked Iola. "Had you no tidings of him?"
"God is good; I heard not of him," said Ibn Ayoub. "The woman of the
house is all for king Richard, and could talk of nought but what Lord
Stanley did, and told me how Lord Fulmer's force had marched out of
Tamworth, going to join the king, and now lay a few miles off at a
place they call Pondhead."
"What shall we do then?" demanded Iola, in a tone of fear and
bewilderment. "I know not where Pondhead is; and it may lie straight
in our way to Lichfield."
"You had better come to that house," said Ibn Ayoub, "and rest there
for the night. The woman has a heart, though as turned the wrong way;
and the lad, her son, seems a good youth. When I told her a lady was
here in the wood, she cried out at once to bring you there for
shelter, and offered all her house could afford, without asking
whether you were for the king or the earl. I told her afterwards,
indeed, that your uncle was at the court, and high in favour. I would
not tell a lie; but that was the truth and could do no harm."
"Much good," said the stranger, now joining in the conversation for
the first time. "I fear this storm will last all night; and you must
have shelter. So, indeed, must I, for I must not venture rashly to
Tamworth till I hear more. I will now seek a boon at your hands. Let
me go with you, as one of your attendants. Pass me as such on the good
woman of the house--"
"You, my lord--you!" cried Iola; "will you venture thither?"
"Even so," he answered, calmly, "if you will so far favour me as to
take me with you. I may return the kindness another day. If you have
any fear, however, that I may bring danger on you, I will not go."
"Oh no, 'twas not for that I feared," replied Iola. "'Twas the great
risk to yourself. I thought of."
"No great risk, I trust," answered the other. "My face will not betray
me in this part of the world: The night is too nigh for strangers to
come in; and what this good man has said will smooth the way for us. I
can talk deftly of the good Lord Calverly, and speak of Richard's
overwhelming force, and Richmond's little band, as calm and scornfully
as Lovell or Catesby, nor ever seem to think that right and justice,
and God's vengeful strength, can make head against a glittering army
and a kingly crown. Let us go on. I can play my part well. Do not
forget yours, however. Speak to me, order me as a gentleman of your
uncle's household, and, above all forget the words 'my lord.' This
night, at least, we will dry our garments by the fire.--To-morrow, my
resting place may be a damper one."
"But by what name shall I call you?" asked Iola.
"Call me Harry--Harry Vane," answered her companion; "but, I beseech
you, remember that all depends on care and prudence; and if I make any
mistake in my due service, rate me well. Be a mere shrew towards me
for this night, though you be gentle as a dove, to my good friend Lord
Chartley."
With many doubts and apprehensions, Iola yielded to the plan, and,
mounting her horse, rode through the still pouring rain, with the
stranger by her side and Ibn Ayoub directing them on the way. Many
things were arranged as they went, and the good Arab cautioned, which
indeed he did not require. They did not reach the door of the house,
to which he led them, before the sun had completely set; but as they
turned towards the west, they saw a golden gleam on the horizon's
edge, and showing that the storm was breaking away.
Timidly, Iola opened the door of the house, which was a large one for
the times and the class of people to which it belonged, while the Arab
gathered the bridles of the horses on his arm, and the stranger
followed a step behind the lady. The scene within alarmed her more
than ever; for it was not like the little quiet farm house she had
visited in the morning. The outer door opened at once into the
kitchen, a large dingy room well grimed with smoke; and round a table
sat three or four stout, heavy-looking, countrymen, together with a
handsome youth, somewhat better dressed, while two or three young
girls were working busily at various household matters, and a stout
dame, with gown tucked up, was taking off, with her own hands, a heavy
pot, from a hook that suspended it above the fire.
"Hey, mother, mother!" cried the young man, turning round his head,
"here's the lady the brown man told you of."
"Ha," said the good woman, setting down the pot and gazing at Iola
with a look of wonder, either at her beauty or the richness of her
apparel. "Well, I wot you are not fit, my lady, to pass the night in
woods and thunderstorms."
"No, indeed," answered Iola. "One of my attendants told me you would
kindly give me shelter for the night, and I will most gladly pay for
any accommodation I receive. I was making my way to Lichfield,
thinking to escape from all these scenes of strife; but it is too
late, I find, to go on."
"Ay, that it is," answered the bluff dame; and, at the same moment,
the stranger whispered--
"A prouder tone, a prouder tone."
"Set me a seat by the fire, Harry Vane," said Iola, with a somewhat
queenly manner; "and then call in the slave. He is wetter than we
are."
The stranger hastened to obey; and the good woman of the house laid
fresh wood upon the fire, aided to remove Iola's hood and cloak, and
offered all attention.
The loftier tone had its effect; for it is a sad truth, that nothing
is obtained in this world--not even respect--without exaction. Modest
merit! alack and a well-a-day, who seeks for it? and, if not sought,
it cannot be found. One's pretensions should ever be a little more
than one's right--not too much indeed, for then, we shock our great
chapman, the world--but always enough to allow for abatement. The
world will always make it; and such is worldly wisdom.
However that may be, there was no lack of kindness and hospitality.
The guests were entertained with the best which the house afforded;
the horses were fed and tended under Ibn Ayoub's own eye, for they
were to him as children; and the good dame and her daughters busied
themselves to provide for Iola's comfort, tendering dry garments of
their own, with many apologies for their coarseness, and admissions
that they were unfit for such a great lady to wear.
While she was absent from the room, submitting to these cares, her son
conversed with the stranger; and even the ploughmen joined in to ask
questions concerning the movements of the armies, and their probable
result. He played his part well, and with a shrug of the shoulders
said, nobody could tell what might be the event. Richmond's army was
but a pitiful handful, it was true; but it was increasing daily, and
if the king did not force him to a battle soon, the two hosts might be
nearly equal. Then again, he added, suspicions were entertained that
some of the great nobles were not well affected to the king.
"Why does not the earl of Northumberland bring up his forces?" he
asked. "It is well known that he could lead six or seven thousand men
into the field; and there they are, either lingering in the North, or
advancing by such slow marches, that a dozen battles might be fought
while they are on the way. For my part, I hold it better not to be
over zealous for any one. None can tell who may win at this rough game
of war; and the lower ones are always losers. If we take the luckless
side, then we have fines and confiscations for our pains, and if we
help the winner we get but cold thanks, when he has secured the game.
I will have nought to do with it, and was right glad when I was sent
to guard my young lady to Lichfield."
About an hour and a half was passed, in a hurried desultory kind of
way, and then Iola sought repose. The stranger was provided with a bed
in a room below, and a sleeping-place was offered to Ibn Ayoub in a
room over the stables. He would not use it, however; but, bringing in
some dry straw, he placed it across Iola's door, and there lay down to
rest. There might be a struggle in his mind, between her and the
horses; but duty won the day.
For the next six hours Iola rested indeed, but slept little; for the
spirit was busy if the body found repose. Whatever faith and trust in
God may do, we all know that there are sufferings to be endured, from
which our mortal nature shrinks, evils to be undergone that wring the
heart of clay; and though 'twere wiser never to dream they may be,
till they are, importunate experience will not let us rest in such
bright though fanciful security. If imagination be vivid, all
probable, all possible ills are called up to frighten us. If reason be
predominant, still we count the numbers of those enemies, to meet them
as we may. Iola's thoughts were of Chartley all the night long.
Waking, she tormented herself with doubt and apprehension for his
safety, and sleeping, she dreamed of him, and fancied he was in
captivity or dead. It was a relief to her when morning dawned; and she
rose. The house was soon in all the busy bustle of a country life, and
people were heard coming and going long before Iola had quitted her
room.
When at length she went down, however, she found all the men absent on
their work; and the first greeting of the good dame was, "Ah, lady,
lucky you stopped here, or you might have been caught. The earl of
Richmond and his rabble are all in Tamworth and the villages round.
Fazely is full of his men; and Lord Stanley has retreated to
Atherston. However, if you go on the road you were travelling, you
will now get to Lichfield quite safe; for they march on quite orderly
'tis said; more so than our own people do, indeed."
"How many are there?" asked Iola. "Have you heard?"
"Well, nigh twenty thousand men, they say," replied the good woman;
"but there is never believing such tales. Now, I will help you to
break your fast in a minute, and send you on your way; for there is no
knowing whether we may not have some of the rebels here before long."
"Where are my servants?" asked Iola. "They must have some food too."
"Oh, they will come, they will come," said the dame. "They are looking
to the horses. Mag, go and call them."
The meal was soon despatched, the horses brought round, and Iola's
purse produced to make payment for her entertainment. Here it was not
refused; for the mistress of the house was a prudent and careful
person, who lost no opportunity of taking money where she could.
They rode away with many adieus and wishes for their fair journey, and
the morning was bright and clear. But as soon as they had reached the
public road again, Iola checked her horse, saying, "Ride on a few
yards, Ibn Ayoub;" and then, turning to the stranger, she added, "I
know not whether the information is to be depended on, my lord; but
the good woman told me just now, that the earl of Richmond's army is
at Tamworth, and the villages round, even at Fazely. All king
Richard's troops are withdrawn, she says. So, if you can trust her
report, your way is clear."
"I saw a peasant come in from the north with a load of wood," said the
stranger; "but I did not venture either to stay or ask any questions;
for the man eyed me strongly. Be the tale true or false, however, the
result must be risked. I can be no longer absent. To you, dear lady, I
have to return my most sincere thanks, for giving me what aid you
could in a very dangerous situation."
"Speak not of that, my lord," replied Iola; "but yet one word before
you go. I am terrified and apprehensive regarding Lord Chartley. I
know not what may have befallen him. I do beseech you, if you can find
time when you reach Tamworth, inquire into his fate, and should you
find him in difficulty, or danger, aid him to the best of your power.
It would quiet many a painful thought too, if I could have
intelligence at Lichfield."
"I promise you upon my faith and word, dear lady," said her companion,
riding closer and kissing her hand; "nought shall be left undone to
aid him to the best of my power. Ay, and I will send you news too. So,
now farewell; and God's protection be around you."
"And you," said Iola. Thus they parted.[5]
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[Footnote 5: This singular adventure of the earl of Richmond, when on
his way between Lichfield and Tamworth, and the fact of his passing
the night at a farm house, are not inventions of a romance writer, but
historical facts.]
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