Читать книгу Cressy and Poictiers - John G. Edgar - Страница 8

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It was a warm day in the month of September—one of those autumnal days when the sun still shines in all its vigour—and my grandsire, with me as his companion, was leaning on his staff, strolling about in the neighbourhood of his homestead, and grumbling somewhat savagely at the rapacity of the royal purveyors, by whom we had recently, to our consternation and our cost, been visited; when we were suddenly roused by the tramp of a horse's hoofs, and, looking round, found ourselves face to face with a cavalier of thirty-five whose dress and demeanour at once proclaimed him a man of high rank.

I confess, indeed, that I was lost in admiration, and stood silent with surprise. The stranger was by far the most striking personage I had ever seen, and, in point of appearance, even rivalled the imaginary heroes of my boyish day-dreams. He was about six feet in height, and in the flower of manhood, with a figure admirably proportioned, long-drawn features, a thoughtful brow, a noble air, and an eye bright with valour and intelligence. His aspect indicated more than regal pride, modified, however, by frankness of spirit; and as he approached, with a hawk on his wrist, a bugle at his girdle, and two hounds running at his horse's feet, his bearing was easy as well as dignified, and he accosted my grandsire with the tone of one who had at once the right to command and the privilege to be familiar.

"Good-day, friend," said he, reining in his steed.

"Sir, good-day," replied my grandsire briefly, and with an indifference in accent and manner to which it was evident the other was unaccustomed.

"I have lost my way in the forest," remarked the cavalier, after a pause, during which he appeared to reflect; "and yet methinks I should not consider that a misfortune, since it has conducted me to so pleasant a spot."

"Yes," replied my grandsire, "I thank God that my lines have fallen in a pleasant place."

"And your lot is, therefore, to be envied by men who dwell in king's palaces."

"Mayhap it might," said my grandsire; "but that the exactions of the king's men are so unjust and oppressive."

"Ha!" exclaimed the stranger, as if in a tone of inquiry.

"Yes," continued my grandsire resolutely, "never in my time has there been anything to compare to it, albeit this is the fourth reign in which I have lived. Did King Edward but know of the tyranny and rapacity exercised in his name, and that his subjects live in dread of the purveyor's horn, he would take such order that the commons should no longer be so outrageously plundered."

"Doubtless," replied the cavalier, "the king would do what is right and lawful."

"I would that I had some talk with him," said my grandsire. "I could tell him many things that he is little likely to hear from knight or noble."

"Expound your grievances to me," said the cavalier; "I am not altogether without influence at the king's court, and I may even have power to set matters right."

"Enter my house, then, if you deem me not unworthy of such an honour," said my grandsire, as we reached the door.

"Right gladly," replied the stranger, dismounting; and, resigning his steed to my care, he followed my grandsire.

Evidently with curiosity, the cavalier, on entering the little hall, examined several pieces of armour and weapons that had been in fashion late in the thirteenth century, especially a huge iron club that was suspended on the wall. But when, having stabled the stranger's steed, I appeared in the hall, I found him seated at the board with my grandsire, partaking of such good cheer as the tenement afforded, and quaffing horns of ale, with apparent relish. Ere the meal was at an end my grandsire had uttered all his complaints against the royal purveyors, and was evidently delighted with his guest; and, as his heart opened, he did not fail to express his satisfaction.

"Courtier," exclaimed the old man, almost with enthusiasm, "I begin to believe that thou art an honest fellow."

"I would fain hope, my friend," replied the stranger, "that men who know me best would so report me."

"I believe it," said my grandsire; "and," added he more soberly, "I should know men when I see them; for in my life I have held discourse with men of all ranks, and with some whose names will live for ever in chronicle and song."

"Indeed?" quoth the cavalier, struck by a remark which gave him a higher idea of his new acquaintance. "I perceive, then, that you have not passed your life in this quiet homestead."

My grandsire laughed, as if in scorn of the thought.

"No," replied he, recovering his serenity, "not at this homestead did I pass my early years, but where banners were flying, and bridles ringing, and swords flashing. My father, who was well known in his day as the Farrier of the Strand, fought with his iron club, which hangs on my wall, for the king at Evesham, under the banner of Lord Merley; and when my father departed this life, I was taken to the North, by the Lord Merley, and there trained to arms. I then went into the service of the good King Edward, and by him was much trusted. I was with the king when he was in danger at Ghent; I was with him when he conquered at Falkirk; I was with him when he died at Burgh-on-the-Sands."

"And how came your services to pass unrewarded and unrecognized?"

"Listen, courtier, and learn. When the old king was laid in his grave, I served his son as I had served himself; and how I fought at Burton and at Borough Bridge it would ill become my tongue to tell. But this cannot be gainsaid; it was my hand that struck down the rebel Clifford; and it was my hand that seized the rebel Lancaster. However, evil days came on apace; fate went against my king; and leal service could avail naught. At length, when all was over, and when, at Berkeley Castle, he was cruelly murdered, I crept hither to pass my days in peace; and I have since lived on, persuading myself that I cannot be altogether useless on earth, since it is God's pleasure that I survive the evil times I have seen."

"Evil days they were," said the cavalier, as he rose and paced the floor, evidently much agitated by memories which my grandsire's story had recalled.

I gazed with some surprise on the effect which had been produced; and my grandsire was in such perplexity, that he seemed quite relieved when the cavalier turned towards me and eyed me keenly.

"And this," said he, "is your grandson?"

"Yes," answered the old man; "my grandson, Arthur, whom I have taught to serve God and honour the king, and whom it lately pleased my lord the prince to commend, at Smithfield, for his brave looks and gallant bearing."

"A goodly youth, on my faith," said the cavalier; "and one who it seems to me, might acquit himself with honour in a higher sphere."

"His father was not of our rank," replied my grandsire. "But that is a long story, which it would pain me to tell, and you and him to hear."

"Another time, mayhap, I may hear it," said the cavalier, not without exhibiting some interest in what my grandsire had told him; "meanwhile," continued he, "it is time for me to ride towards Windsor, which I will do, if you will put me in the way. But, my friend," added he kindly, "fail not to visit me at the castle, and bring thither your grandson, and I will so requite your hospitality as to convince you that I am no churl."

"Come to Windsor," exclaimed my grandsire, "to be driven from the gate like a mangy cur! No, courtier; men shall never have it in their power to say that such was my fate."

"Fear not such a repulse," said the stranger. "Ask for me; and, if you so do, trust me you will be admitted with all courtesy."

"And, pray thee, by what name are you known?" added my grandsire.

The cavalier looked puzzled, but took from his hand a ring.

"Ask for Jack Fletcher," he said; "and if that suffices not," added he, presenting the ring, "show this, and, at the sight of it, gates and doors will open to admit you."

My grandsire bowed low as he received the ring; and the stranger rising to depart, took leave of me kindly, sallied forth, mounted his horse, and with my grandsire showing the way through the forest, and talking of deer and wild cattle, rode towards Windsor, as he had come, with his hawk on his wrist, his bugle at his girdle, and his hounds running at his side.

"Now," soliloquised I, as I watched his departure, "I will wager that the visit of this stranger is to exercise some important influence on my destiny."