Forest Days: A Romance of Old Times
But her brother interrupted her petulantly, saying--"These are times
that abridge courtesy, Lucy.--I differ, my good lord," he continued--"I
judge that it will be safer for us to travel apart. With our two troops
united we form a body that cannot escape observation, and which is yet
too small to make a good defence. I therefore think that it will be
better for us to separate. Thanking you much for the assistance and
protection you have given to this lady, and waiting with devout
patience for the explanations which you have not thought fit to afford,
I will take one way if you will take another."
Hugh de Monthermer bit his lip; but though quick and fiery in his own
disposition, he was acting under a restraint which made him bear to the
utmost, rather than quarrel with the brother of her whom he loved,
resolved that it should be no act of his which placed a barrier between
them. Without making any reply to Alured de Ashby then, he wheeled
round his horse to Lucy's side, asking in a low voice--"Shall I go?"
"You had better," said Lucy, with a sigh--"you had better:" and then
raising her voice, she added--"Farewell, Lord Hugh; I at least am
grateful, and so you will find my father, I am sure. Farewell."
Thus speaking she held out her hand to him; and Hugh de Monthermer,
pressing his lips upon it, turned his horse, and bade his men follow
him, without offering any salutation to the ungracious young nobleman
who had brought so happy a day to so unpleasant a close.
Taking a road which lay somewhat to the north of that which Lucy and
her brother were pursuing, he advanced towards Gloucester, keeping
nearly upon a line with the other party, and gaining from time to time
some information of their movements. Towards the end of the fifth day's
march, his little troop approached the city in which he expected to
find his uncle; but at the small town of Charlton, he received
intimation from his host that if he were going to join the army of the
great Earl of Leicester, it would be well for him to take a large
circuit, the road between that place and Gloucester being somewhat
dangerous.
"Gilbert de Clare," he said, "our good Earl, keeps the forest of Dean
with some five thousand men; and we just this morning heard that the
young Lord of Ashby, who left last night, has been taken with all his
company. His sister was with him, too, pretty lady; but some say the
young lord was not unwilling to fall into the Earl's hands. At all
events he was well forewarned, for we told him what would happen when
he set out."
Hugh bit his lip, mused for a moment or two; and then murmuring--"It is
not impossible," mounted his horse and rode away, taking the road which
the host had pointed out as the most secure.
CHAPTER XV.
The greatest men that ever lived, if we were to examine accurately all
the actions that they have performed at different periods of their
existence, and could try them with impartial and perfectly
discriminating judgment, would be found to have committed more than one
great mistake which in many instances did not lead to the evil
consequences that might have been anticipated. And, on the contrary,
very often indeed, a trifling fault, a rash word, a thoughtless act, or
even an angry look, has produced more important results than one of
these capital errors. Sometimes it has been conduct which has retrieved
the fault, but history shows us that the moment at which an act is
committed more frequently decides whether the consequences shall be
great or insignificant than the nature of the act itself. At the period
of history of which we now speak, the famous Simon de Montfort, Earl of
Leicester--justly celebrated both as a soldier and a politician, one of
the few men, with a prophetical spirit, to foresee the path in which
society will march, and forestall their age in choosing it--had
committed that grand mistake which led to his overthrow and death.
Often, before this period, he had proceeded with inferior forces from
one end of the land to the other, and, supported by the strong popular
feeling in his favour, had overthrown all his enemies, holding his weak
and tyrannical sovereign a mere prisoner in his hands, and keeping even
Prince Edward himself, one of the wisest men and best soldiers of the
age, in a state of honourable captivity. No evil results had ensued--no
great danger even had been incurred. But the times had changed. Many of
those who had attached themselves to De Montfort, upon the less
virtuous and honourable motives which affect the course of human
actions, had been treated by him with cold and most impolitic neglect.
Others feared the consequences of his growing power, either for
themselves or their country, not taking in the vast range to which his
own political vision extended; and others were indignant at his
treatment of their king, who, however weak, vicious, and tyrannical,
they still looked upon with feudal respect. Many of the lords of the
marches of Wales were actually in arms against his power; and the
famous Earl of Gloucester, a factious kinsman of the throne, had been
for some time assuming loyalty, and displaying a thinly veiled enmity
to the party of De Montfort.
At this inauspicious moment, the Earl of Leicester had determined to
march from the neighbourhood of London, by whose citizens he had always
been vigorously supported, and where his chief strength lay, and to
advance to the frontiers of Wales, with the purpose of punishing the
malcontents who refused to submit to his authority. By thus removing
from the proximity of his best resources, he rendered the power of his
adversaries and his own so nearly equal, that it wanted but one of
those slight accidents which so frequently overthrow the best laid
schemes, to turn the balance against him; and that accident was soon
destined to occur.
With the exception of this great mistake, not the slightest error has
been pointed out in his conduct, at least in a military point of view.
His march was conducted with the circumspection; and, with a force by
no means large--keeping the King and the Prince, eager for deliverance
and assisted by many friends, at his side, while he advanced in the
midst of enemies, equal, if not superior in numbers to himself,--he
proceeded, with slow and careful steps, to Gloucester, and there
entered into negotiations with Gilbert de Clare, his most formidable
opponent, in order to induce him once more to join the party which had
so frequently asserted the rights of the people against the encroaching
spirit of Henry III.
Deceived; in some degree, by pretended advances on the part of the Earl
of Gloucester, he agreed to refer their differences to arbitration, and
recommenced his march for Hereford; but still, with the most scrupulous
precaution, guarded his royal companions, and frustrated every effort
made by the Earl to take him at a disadvantage, and to set them free.
At the same time, perceiving that, in order to attain the great objects
he had in view, he must strengthen himself to the utmost of his power,
he notified to all his friends the absolute necessity of their
combining to give him support and marching to his assistance with all
the troops that they could levy. The effect of his messages and
exhortations we have seen in the meetings held in Yorkshire, and
gradually perceiving that there was no chance of recovering the
friendship of Gloucester, he prepared to compel that submission which
he could not obtain, by gentler means.
Men were gathering from all parts--arms were being manufactured in
every town--the land was agitated from end to end, and every one looked
forward to a great and decisive struggle--though there were few, it
must be confessed, who did not believe that De Montfort would
triumph--for the prestige of victory hung around his banner, and the
whole air and tone of the great leader were those of a man marked out
by the hand of God for success.
Such was the state of affairs, when Hugh de Monthermer, with his small
troop, after having visited the town of Gloucester, and learned that
his uncle had proceeded at once to Hereford, arrived in that fair city.
It was now filled with soldiers and with noblemen from different parts
of the country, so that a lodging would have been difficult to obtain,
had not the old Earl of Monthermer secured a portion of the inn called
the May which we have once led the reader--for the dwelling of himself
and his nephew.
Hugh found but small space, however, allotted to him and to those who
accompanied him. A party of his own servants who had gone on with the
Earl were already in possession, two having taken up their abode in the
small ante-room leading to the chamber which had been assigned to
himself; and an adjoining room, not very large, with one somewhat less,
at the side, was all that remained for the rest of his retinue, and the
five archers who had been left behind by his uncle. The other parts of
the inn were completely filled; and for the poor boy, Tangel, no place
had, of course, been reserved, as every one had been ignorant of his
coming.
The dwarf, who had seemed to grow more sad at each day's journey from
Sherwood, stood in the doorway of the ante-room, as the young lord
entered, listening to the arrangements which had been made.
"Where to put the maggot that you have brought, my lord," said the old
servant, who was explaining to Hugh the fullness of the rooms and the
disposition they had been obliged to adopt, and who did not appear at
all well pleased at poor Tangel's addition to the party--"Where to put
the maggot you have brought, I cannot tell. The ante-room is scarce
big enough for the two yeomen, and----"
"He shall sleep in my chamber," said Hugh, noting the poor dwarf's
desolate look; "come hither, Tangel, thou shalt sleep on a bed at my
feet. Know him, and take care of him, Walsh; for he is a good and
faithful boy, true and affectionate to his master; and if any one does
him wrong, he shall answer to me for it."
The boy darted forward, and kissed his hand; and Hugh de Monthermer,
after giving some farther directions, to ensure that he was protected
against insult as well as injury, proceeded at once, followed by two
servants, armed with sword and buckler, to the magnificent castle of
Hereford, whither he found that his uncle had gone about an hour
before.
It was a gay and bustling scene that the court-yard presented, for as
every detail of military life was then complicated in the extreme, and
the taste for splendour and expense was at its height, the crowd of
followers, in gaudy dresses, who accompanied even the inferior officers
of an army hither, caused the head-quarters of the general to appear in
a constant state of flutter and pageantry. Forcing his way through the
crowd, and, from the scanty number of his attendants, attracting but
little attention, Hugh de Monthermer ascended the steps into the great
hall of the keep, which he found nearly filled with people, pacing up
and down; and as he was not acquainted with the building, he asked a
gentleman, who seemed at his ease in the place, to tell him where he
could find the Earl of Leicester.
The personage to whom he addressed himself pointed to a flight of steps
leading from the farther end of the hall, and replied, "At the top of
the stairs you will meet with some one who will tell you where the Earl
is: but you will not get speech of him, I think."
"I think I shall!" replied Hugh, "but, at all events, I thank you;" and
ascending the stairs, he was stopped by an officer with a partisan, who
asked him his business, and in the same breath told him he could not
pass that way.
Hugh gave his name, and demanded to see the Earl; upon which a page was