Forest Days: A Romance of Old Times
struck his opponent on the chest with the sharp end of the pole, thus
clearing a path by which he soon placed himself at the head of the
foresters.
"Come with us, Harland," he cried, "you will be safer away."
Richard de Ashby, however, shouting aloud, and waving his hand to the
party of gentlemen who were advancing, soon brought some of them to his
side. "Stop them! stop them!" he cried, pointing to the men in green.
"I have been grossly ill used, and well-nigh murdered!--Let your men go
round, my lord, and cut them off."
A word, a sign, from an elderly man at the head of the party, instantly
set some twenty of the horsemen into a gallop, to cut off the foresters
from the road to the church. They, on their part, took the matter very
calmly, however, unslinging their bows, bending them, and laying an
arrow on the string of each, with a degree of deliberation which shewed
that they were not unaccustomed to such encounters.
The villagers however, scattered like a flock of sheep at these
intimations of an approaching fray; the girls and the women, screaming,
and running, and tumbling down, took refuge in the neighbouring houses,
or ran away up the road. The greater part of the men decamped more
slowly, looking back from time to time to see what was going on; while
some six or seven stout peasants and the yeomen stood gathered together
under one of the trees, armed, in some instances, with swords and bows,
and one or two displaying a quarter-staff, but all seeming very well
disposed to take part in the fray, on one side or the other.
Things were in this state, and that hesitating pause had intervened
which usually precedes the first blow in a strife of any kind, when the
priest, who had been seen before to quit his house, now hurried forward
to the group of gentlemen who, without dismounting from their horses,
had gathered round Richard de Ashby. His errand was, of course, to
preach peace and forbearance; and although his face was round and rosy,
his body stout, and indicating strongly a life of ease and a fondness
for good things, it is but justice to say, that he not only urged the
necessity of quiet and tranquillity with eagerness and authority, but
he rated Richard de Ashby boldly for his conduct in the village, and
showed that ho knew a great deal more of his proceedings than was at
all pleasant to that personage.
"Sir, you are one of those," he said, "who are ever ready to play the
fool with a poor village coquette, who, if in riding through a place
they see a poor girl proud of a neat ankle or a jimp waist, are ever
ready to take advantage of her vanity to work her ruin; and if such men
put themselves in danger, and get a broken head, they must take the
consequences, without running on to bloodshed and murder."
The priest was still speaking; the yeomen were slowly retreating
towards the church, without at all heeding the horsemen in their way;
two or three elderly noblemen were listening attentively to the works
of the good clergyman; and two young ones, a step behind, were holding
themselves somewhat apart from each other, with no great appearance of
friendship between them, when the one on the left hand of the group
suddenly put the magnificent horse on which he was mounted into a quick
canter, and rode straight towards the foresters.
At first, supposing his purpose to be hostile, they wheeled upon him,
raising their bows at once, and each man drew his arrow to his ear; but
seeing that he was not followed, they assumed a more pacific aspect;
and, while one of the old lords whom he had left behind, called to him
loudly, by the name of Hugh, to come back, he not only rode on, but, to
the surprise of all, sprang from his horse and grasped young Harland
warmly by the hand.
This proceeding for the time drew all eyes in that direction, and the
end of the priest's speech was but little attended to; but, at his
request, one of the gentlemen sent off a servant to the horsemen near
the church, telling them not to act without orders.
In the meantime a brief conversation between the young nobleman and the
franklin took place, after which, remounting his horse, the former came
back to the group, and said, "May I venture a few words, my lords?"
"Of course, Lord Hugh will take part against me," exclaimed Richard de
Ashby, "or old Earl Hubert's blood will not be in his veins!"
"Not so," replied the young gentleman; "all old feuds between our
families have--thanks to God and the wisdom of those two noble
Earls--been done away. No one more rejoices in the friendship which now
exists between our houses than I do--none will more strenuously strive
to preserve it. I came merely to tell that which I know and that which
I have just heard. The young man I have been speaking with is as honest
and true as any knight or noble in the world. He once rendered me a
good service, and no one shall harm him; for that at least I pawn my
name and knighthood. He tells me, however, that this worthy gentleman
here, having taken a fancy to his promised bride, thinks fit to intrude
on their May-day sports, and, stretching somewhat the privileges of a
gentleman, makes love to the girl before his face. His endurance, it
seems, does not reach that length, and he struck our friend Sir
Richard, who fell upon him again, sword in hand, with his three
servants, when these good foresters of Barnesdale interfered to see
fair play."
"The whole is true, I doubt not," cried the priest, "for----"
"Look! look!" cried Richard de Ashby, fiercely; "while you listen to
such gossip, they are making their escape! They are going into the
priest's house, as I live!"
As he spoke, a loud voice from the other side of the green shouted, in
a laughing tone, "For Richard de Ashby's bonnet!"
All eyes were instantly turned in that direction, where, at the door of
the priest's house, two or three of the foresters were still to be
seen, the rest of them having gone in one by one. In front of the group
stood the man they called Hardy, and he repeated again, with a loud
shout, "For Richard de Ashby's bonnet!"
As soon as he saw that he had attracted attention, he suddenly raised
the bow he held in his hand, drew it to the full extent of his arm, and
an arrow whistled through the air. Richard de Ashby had started
slightly on one side as soon as he saw the archer take his aim, but the
forester altered the direction of his arm, with a laugh, even as he
loosed the shaft from the string, and the missile, with unerring truth,
passed through the hood that it was intended for, and would have fallen
beyond had it not been stopped by a jewel in the front. As it was, the
arrow remained hanging amongst his black hair, and when he drew it
forth, with a white cheek, and a somewhat trembling hand, he read
imprinted in black letters, on the wood just below the feather,
"Scathelock. Remember!"
The nobles handed the arrow one to another, read the name, and the word
that followed it, and then gazed in each other's faces with a meaning
look.
"Call back the horsemen," said one of the elder gentlemen. "These men
are gone; and it is as well as it is."
CHAPTER V.
Such events as we have described in the last chapter were by no means
uncommon in the fairs and merry-makings of England at the period of
history in which our tale is laid. The sunshiny gaiety of the morning,
in the April day of states and societies, is too often changed into
sorrow and clouds ere night.
The sports were not resumed upon the village green; and all the
amusements and occupations with which a May-day generally closed--the
fresh dances by the moonlight, on the delights of which old Fitz
Stephen so fondly dwells, the parting of the garlands, the gifts of
flowers, the light song, and the gay tale amongst the young; with the
merry jest, the wassail cup, and the game of chance amongst the elder,
were all forgotten. The villagers and country people dispersed each to
their several homes, and the inn, with such conveniences as it could
afford, was given up to the nobles and their train. Arrangements were
made for accommodating all the men of high degree with chambers, if not
suitable to their rank, at least possessing some degree of comfort.
Truckle beds were found for pages and squires, and straw was laid down
for the yeomen, who were accustomed to lie across the doors of their
masters' rooms. Much bustle and confusion was of course created by all
these proceedings; horses had to be taken care of as well as men; and
the voice of the good host was heard frequently shouting aloud for his
daughter Kate, or grumbling low at her giddy idleness in being absent
at such a moment as that.
"Ay, Master Greenly, Master Greenly!" said the tapster--"it is May-day
evening, remember. Pretty Kate has twenty lads courting her by this
time, if you could but see. I should not wonder if she and young
Harland were kissing and making-up behind the church, at this moment."
"Not they," replied the host; "it will take her a fortnight to get over
that matter. Kate's a silly girl, she could'nt do better for herself
than young Harland. Why his father, old Ralph, is as rich as an abbey,
and as hospitable as a county knight; his table is never without a pie
or a pasty from ten in the morning till vespers, and there's ale for
whoever chooses to draw it. I would sooner be a franklin in these days
than a baron by half. Run out, Bessy, and see if you can find Kate
anywhere."
In the meanwhile, after some conversation on the green at the door of
the inn, the lords had taken possession of the little room of common
reception, while their chambers were prepared for sleeping; and a cook,
who had been brought with the party, established himself in the
kitchen, and, aided by his own particular assistant, or knave, as he
called him, together with two women belonging to the household of John
Greenly, was preparing a supper for his masters from all that he could
lay hands on in the place, in addition to a large body of capons, young
ducks, and pigeons, which, as well as spices and other rich condiments,
had been brought thither on two sumpter horses. The scanty number of
personages assembled in the little hall, indeed, did not justify the
great profusion of good things which the cook was so busily concocting,
but he very prudently considered that he himself was to be fed as well
as the host, to whom, in case of civility and obedience, he made a
point of extending his bounties, and that all the chief servants of the
different gentlemen present, with his special favourites and friends in
the retinue of his own master, would also expect to be regaled, at
least as well as their several lords.
To that master and his companions, however--amounting, in the whole, to
the number of ten personages--we must now turn; but it is only of four,
out of the whole party, that we shall give any particular description,
having already said enough of Richard de Ashby, and the five others
being gentlemen, whose history, though mixed up in some degree with the
fate of those we are most interested in, did not affect it so
immediately as to require us to present a minute portrait of each to
the eye of the reader.
The Earl of Ashby himself was a man considerably past the prime of
life, and of what was then called a choleric temperament, which does
not alone mean that he was hot in temper and disposition, but that he
was constitutionally so. Age, indeed, had in some degree tamed his
fiery blood; and a good deal of indulgence in the pleasures of the
table, with no great distaste for good old wine of any country, had
tended to enfeeble him more than even time had done.
He had still a great opinion of his own importance, however, and looked