CHAPTER XXXVII.
The King and Prince Edward stood in the great hall of NottinghamCastle, about to go forth on horseback. But few attendants,comparatively, were around them; and a good deal of unmeaning merrimentwas upon the King's countenance, as he jested with a horribly contortedhumpback, who, tricked forth in outrageous finery, displayed upon hisown deformed person more ribands, feathers, and lace, than all the restof the Court put together. Full of malice, wit, and impudence, everytale of scandal, every scurvy jest and ribald story of the Court, werefamiliar to him, and with these he entertained the leisure hours of theKing, when the monarch was not seeking amusement in the society of hisforeign favourites.
The brow of Edward, on the contrary, was somewhat stern and sad. Manythings had gone contrary to his wishes; his father seemed resolved notto perform any of the promises which he had made to the more patrioticnoblemen who had supported the royal cause; and though Edward carriedfilial respect and deference to an extent which his commanding mind,high purposes, and great achievements, might perhaps have justified himin stopping short of, yet he could not but suffer his countenance toshow his disappointment and disapprobation.
The King had descended from his apartments before his horses had beenbrought into the court; and when the door at the farther end of thehall opened, he took a few steps towards it, followed by the gentlemenwho were with him, supposing that some of the attendants were coming toannounce that all was ready.
Two or three of the royal officers did certainly appear, but in themidst was seen the tall and powerful form of Hugh de Monthermer, withan old knight, Sir John Hardy, on one side, and a page on the other. Headvanced with a quick step up the hall, and, bowing reverently to theKing and to the Prince, he said--
"I have come, your grace, according to the tenour of the safe-conduct Ihave received, with one well known in feats of arms to be my god-fatherin chivalry, and with twenty-five attendants and no more, to meet myaccuser face to face, to declare that his charge is false before Godand man, and to do battle with him in this behalf--my body against his,according to the law of arms. I do beseech you, my lord, let me know myaccuser."
"'Tis I," answered a voice from behind the King, and Alured de Ashbystepped forward to Henry's side--"'tis I, Alured de Ashby, who doaccuse you, Hugh of Monthermer, of feloniously and maliciously doing todeath William de Ashby, my noble father. I put myself on the decisionof Heaven, and God defend the right!"
Hugh of Monthermer had turned very pale. His lip quivered, his eye grewanxious and haggard, and for a moment or two he remained in deepsilence. At length, however, he replied--
"You do me bitter wrong, Alured de Ashby--you should know better."
"How so?" demanded his opponent; "there is strong and dark suspicionagainst you."
"Which I can disperse in a moment," said Hugh de Monthermer, "likeclouds scattered by a searching wind. But even were there suspicionsten times as strong, I say that you, of all men, should not receivethem."
"How pale he turns!" observed one of the noblemen near, loud enough forHugh to hear.
"Ay, sir, I do turn pale," replied the young nobleman, looking sternlyat him "I turn pale to find that one against whom I would lesswillingly draw the sword than any man living, is he, who, by a falseand baseless suspicion, forces me to do so. Alured de Ashby, you knewright well when you concealed the name of my accuser that noprovocation would induce me to dip my hand in the blood of yoursister's brother."
"I did," replied Alured de Ashby; "that was the reason I concealed it."
"Then should you not have likewise known," demanded Hugh, "that thesame reason which makes me shrink from injuring her brother, wouldstill more withhold my arm, if raised, to spill the blood of herfather. You know it, Alured de Ashby--in your heart you know it well.Nothing, so help me God, would have made me do one act to injure him,even if there had been quarrel or dispute between us, when, I callHeaven to witness, there was none."
"This is all vain," answered Alured de Ashby, with an unmovedcountenance; "you, Hugh de Monthermer, underlie my challenge; you haveaccepted it, and I will make it good. There lies my glove!" and he castit down before the King.
Sir John Hardy instantly advanced and took it up, saying, "In the nameof the most noble lord Hugh de Monthermer, Baron of Amesbury, I takeyour gage, Alured, Earl of Ashby, and do promise on his behalf that hewill do battle with you in his quarrel when and where the king shallappoint, on horse or foot, with the usual arms and equipments,according to the law of arms, and the customs of the court of England."
Hugh de Monthermer folded his arms on his chest, and bent down his eyesupon the ground; and oh, how bitter were his feelings at that moment!The deed was done--the irretrievable engagement was made; he musteither dip his hand in the kindred blood of her he loved best on earth,or he must abandon honour, and name, and station, for ever--ay, andremain gained with the imputation of a base and horrible act, whichwould equally put a barrier between him and the object of hislong-cherished hopes.
Darkness was round him on every side, Between two black alternatives,both equally menacing and fearful, he could but go on upon the coursebefore him--upon the course to which he seemed driven by fate. He mustmeet his accuser in arms, he must do battle with him at outrance, hemust conquer, he must slay him. He knew well his own powers and his ownskill, and he doubted not that he should obtain the victory; but healso knew that Alured de Ashby was not one to be overthrown with ease,that he was not one whom he should be able to wound, disarm, or save.Once in the field together, it was hand against hand, body againstbody, life against life, till one or the other was no more. Death wasthe only warder that would part them after the barrier of the listsfell behind him. Nor could he hesitate, nor could he spare hisadversary, even though he were willing to risk or lose his own liferather than slay the brother of Lucy de Ashby; for with the accused,ignominy, and condemnation followed overthrow, and it was not alonedeath, but disgrace, that was the mead of the vanquished. No; his fatewas sealed, his doom determined, with his own hand was he destined todestroy his own happiness, to tear the sweetest ties of the heartasunder, and to consign himself to grief, and disappointment, andsolitude through life.
As the last words broke from the lip of Sir John Hardy, the scenearound him seemed to disappear from his eyes. He felt like one ofthose, who, on some bitter sorrow, forswear the world and the world'sjoys for the dark cell of the monastery, the living tomb of the heart.He felt like one of them, when the vow is pronounced, when their fateis sealed, and when all earth's things are given up for ever. The wholehall and all that it contained swam indistinctly before him, and hebent down his eyes lest their giddy vacancy should betray the intensityof his feelings to these who watched him.
In the meanwhile Henry and the Prince conferred for a moment apart; andthe King turned first to the accuser, then to the accused, saying, "Mylords, we will name Monday next for the decision of this wager ofbattle; the place to be the Butts by the side of Trent, below thebridge. We will take care that fitting lists be prepared; and, untilthe day of combat, we charge you both to keep the peace one towards theother, to live in tranquil amity, as noble knights and gallantgentlemen may do, although there be mortal quarrel between them, to bedecided at a future time."
Thus speaking, the King turned to leave the hall, but Edward paused amoment, and took Hugh de Monthermer's hand. "I grieve, Hugh," he said,"most deeply that by some sad mistake--ay, and by some recklessconduct," he continued, aloud, "on the part of some gentlemen of thiscourt, a false and wrongful charge was brought against you in the firstinstance, out of which this second accusation has in some degreearisen. Of the first charge you have cleared yourself, to thesatisfaction of the King and every honourable man; and of the second, Iknow you will clear yourself also as becomes you. In the meantime, youare my guest; one of the towers on the lower wall is prepared for youand your people, and as the day fixed is somewhat early for this trial,my armourer is at your command, to furnish you with such thing
s as maybe needful; for your own dwelling is too far distant to send forharness; and we know this gallant Earl too well," he added, turningtowards Alured de Ashby, "not to feel sure that his opponent in thelists must use every caution and defence which the law of armspermits."
The young Earl smiled proudly, and followed the King, who, togetherwith his son and the rest of the court, quitted the hall, leaving Hughde Monthermer standing in the midst, paying but little attention toanything but his own sad thoughts.
"My lord, I have charge to show you your apartments," said anattendant, approaching with a simpering air. "The tower is veryconvenient, but the stables are not quite so good, and you must put sixof your horses in the town. This way, my lord, if you so please."
Hugh de Monthermer followed in silence, and the man led him accordinglyacross the court to one of the towers, which stood as an independentbuilding, only connected with the rest of the castle by the walls.
"This, sir," said the servant, entering with him, "is the hall for yourpeople, who will be supplied by the King's purveyors with all theyneed. Here are two sleeping chambers behind, and here a chamber forthis gallant knight. Now, up these steps, my lord--Here is a vacantroom for you to range your arms, and see that all be well prepared forman and horse; here is a pinion for your hood and chapel-de-fer, hereare stays for your lances, and nowhere will you find better wood thanin Nottingham; a hook for your shield, and a block for the hauberk andother harness. This way is the ante-room, my lord, with truckle-bedsfor a yeoman and a page. That door leads direct through the wall to theapartments of the Prince, and this to your bed-room."
Hugh gave him some money; and, saying, "Largesse, my lord, largesse,"the man withdrew, promising to send in the young nobleman's followers,and to show them where to stable their horses.
"Take heart, my lord--take heart," said Sir John Hardy, after the royalattendant was gone; "this is a bitter change of adversaries, it istrue; but now 'tis done, it cannot be helped, and you must do yourdevoir against this Earl, who will bring his fate upon his own head."
"I thought him two hundred miles away," replied Hugh; "but, as you say,I must do my devoir. See to all things necessary, Hardy; for I have noheart to think of anything but one. A good plain harness is all I want:the horse that brought me hither will do as well as another."
"Nay, my lord, you must not be rash," answered the old. Knight, "lestsome misfortune happen."
"The worst misfortune that life has in store for me is sure to befal,"replied Hugh de Monthermer: "it is, to slay the brother of Lucy deAshby, Hardy; for he fights with a desperate man, one to whom allthings on earth are indifferent--who must live, though life be hatefulto him--who cannot die, as he would fain do, lest ignominy shouldcleave unto his name. I will trust all to you, Hardy--I will trust allto you; but I cannot think or talk of anything at present, so I betakeme to my chamber. If any one should come, tell them I am busy--busyenough, indeed, with dark and bitter fancies."
Thus saying, he retreated to the bed-room which had been assigned him,and casting himself down on a settle, he spread his arms upon thetable, and buried his eyes in them.
It were vain to attempt by any words of ours to depict the state ofHugh de Monthermer's heart, as he sat there, given up entirely to sadmemories and gloomy expectations. Oh, how his thoughts warred with oneanother--how the idea of flying from the task he had undertaken was metby the repugnance of an honourable spirit to disgrace and shame--howthe image of Lucy de Ashby's brother dying beneath his blows, rose upbefore his sight, followed by the cold, averted look with which shewould meet him ever after, the chilling tone of her voice, theshrinking horror of her demeanour, when she should see the destroyer ofher nearest kinsman. Then came the thought of what if he were to avoidthe combat?--What would be the consequences then? Would he not beconsidered recreant and coward?
The time allowed was so short, too--but three brief days--that therewas no hope of gaining proof of his own innocence, and of the guilt ofanother, before the period appointed. A week, a fortnight--often more,was allotted for the preparation; but in this instance the time hadbeen curtailed as there were evil tidings from the Isle of Axholme,which were likely to call Prince Edward speedily from Nottingham.
He could send, indeed, to the forest; he could even make inquiries inperson, if he liked--for his safe-conduct specified that he was free tocome and go as he thought fit; but he had been especially warned, thatthe proofs against Richard de Ashby could not be produced for at leasta week, and his own eagerness to meet the charge had led him to thecourt much sooner than the judgment of his forest friends warranted.Thus, on every side he seemed shut in by difficulties, and nought wasleft him but to defend his innocence, to the utter extinction of allhappiness for life.
"Would she could see me," he thought; "would that she could see theagony which distracts my heart, at the very idea of raising my handagainst her brother!--However that may be," he continued, "that villainshall not escape. Although I cannot dare him to the field, now that Iunderlie the challenge of another, yet I will publicly accuse himbefore I enter the lists; and, either by my lance or the hand of theexecutioner, he shall die the death he has deserved."
He raised his head quickly and fiercely as he thus thought; the dooropposite to him was slowly opening when he did so, and the face ofPrince Edward appeared in the aperture.
"I knocked," said the Prince, "but you did not answer."
"Forgive me, my gracious lord," replied Hugh, rising, "but my thoughtshave been so sadly busy, that it would seem they close the doors of theear lest they should be interrupted. I heard no one approach; but, Godknows, your presence is the only thing that could give me comfort."
"This is a sad business, indeed," said Edward, seating himself. "Come,sit, Monthermer, and tell me how all this has happened."
"Good my lord, I know not," replied Hugh. "You must have moreinformation than I have; for here, in this neighbourhood, has theplot been concerted. Here, in your father's court, where they contrivedto have me doomed to death some time since, untried, unheard,undefended--here have they, when frustrated in that, devised a newscheme for my destruction."
"Nay," said Edward, "it was not that I meant. I asked how it is youproposed this rash appeal to arms, when I expected that you woulddemand fair trial and judgment according to law?"
"I have been deceived, my lord," replied Hugh--"terribly deceived! EvenLucy herself supposed that Richard de Ashby was my accuser, and I neverknew that Alured had returned; otherwise, well aware of his quick andfiery spirit, I should have judged that he would make the quarrel hisown, whether he believed the charge or not."
"That Richard is the real accuser, there can be no doubt," said thePrince. "His cousin is but a screen for his malice; but yet you wererash, Monthermer, and I know not now what can be done to help you.--Whois there that can prove where you were, and how employed, upon the daythat this dark deed was done?"
"Outlaws and banished men--none else, my lord," replied Hugh deMonthermer; "witnesses whose testimony cannot be given or received. ButI will beseech you to let me know in what arises the suspicion that Ihad any share in this? I do not believe that there is a single act inall my life which could bring upon me even the doubt of such a crime."
"The scheme has been well arranged," answered Edward; "the proofs areplausible and various--but you shall hear the whole;" and he proceededto tell him all that the reader already knows concerning the accusationbrought against him.
For a moment, Hugh remained silent, confounded, and surprised; butgradually his own clear mind, though for an instant bewildered by thecase made out against him, seized on the clue of the dark labyrinthwith which they had surrounded him.
"Well arranged, indeed, my lord," he replied, "but too complicated evenfor its own purpose. Villany never can arrive at the simplicity oftruth. Was there no one, sir, who, even out of such grounds as these,could find matter to defend me?"
"Yes," answered Edward, "there was, and she was one you love. She stoodforward to do you right--sh
e swept away half of these suspicions fromthe minds even of your enemies--she showed that one half of the talewas false, the other more than doubtful."
"Dear, dear girl!" cried Hugh de Monthermer; and, gazing earnestly inEdward's face, he asked, "and shall my hand spill her brother's blood?"
"Nay, more," continued the Prince, without replying to what the youngLord said, "she declared her belief that the real murderer had broughtsuspicion upon you to screen himself."
"The scheme, my lord, is deeper still," answered Hugh deMonthermer--"the scheme is deeper still, or I am very blind. Did thisdear lady point at any one whom she believed the culprit?"
"She would not say," replied Edward, "she would not even hint, beforethe whole court, who was the object of her suspicions; but since, inprivate, the Princess has drawn from her the secret of her doubts. Weentertain the same.--Have you, too, any cause to fix upon themurderer?"
"Cause, my lord!" cried Hugh, "I know him as I know myself. _I_ have nodoubts. Mine are not suspicions. With me 'tis certainty, and fullassurance.--Were it not a fine and well-digested scheme, mylord--supposing that between you and high fortune and the hand of theloveliest lady in the land, there stood a father and a brother and alover--to slay the old man secretly, and instigate his son to chargethe daughter's promised husband with the deed--to make them meet inarms, in the good hope that the lover's well-known lance would removefrom your path the sole remaining obstacle, by drowning out, in herbrother's blood, the last hope of his marriage with the lady? Thus,father, brother, lover would be all disposed of, the lands and lordshipyours, and the lady almost at your mercy likewise. Do you understandme, my lord?"
"Well!" answered the Prince, "But who is the man?"
"Richard de Ashby, my lord; and, if the day named for this sad combathad not been so soon, I was promised evidence, within a week, whichwould have proved upon the traitor's head his cunning villany."
Edward mused, and turned in his mind the possibility of postponing theevent. But--though it may seem strange to the reader that such a stateof things should ever have existed--a judicial combat of that day was amatter with which even so great and high-minded a prince as Edward I.dared not meddle as he would. We know how far such interference, at anafter-period, contributed to lose his crown to Richard II.; and Edwardsaw no possibility of changing the day, or even hour, appointed for thetrial by battle, unless some accidental circumstance were to occurwhich might afford a substantial motive for the alteration. Otherwise,he knew that he would have the whole chivalry of Europe crying out uponthe deed; and that was a voice which even he durst not resist.
"'Tis unfortunate, indeed," he said, "most unfortunate; but my fatherhaving fixed it early, and at my request, too, it cannot be changed.But do you feel sure, quite sure, that within one week you could bringforward proofs to exculpate yourself, and to show the guilt of thiswretched man?"
"As surely as I live," replied Hugh de Monthermer. "I have the word ofone who never failed me yet--of one who speaks not lightly, my goodlord."
"And who is he?" demanded Edward.
A faint smile came upon Hugh de Monthermer's countenance: "He is one ofthe King's outlaws," he answered; "but yet his word may be dependedon."
The Prince mused for a moment or two without reply, and thenrejoined--"It is probable these forest outlaws in our neighbourhood mayknow something of the matter. Think you they had any share in it?"
"What! in the murder?" cried Hugh de Monthermer. "Oh, no, my lord,Would to God you had as honest men in Nottingham Castle as under theboughs of Sherwood!"
"You are bitter, Hugh," replied the Prince, and then added--"I fear theday cannot be changed; and all that remains to be done is, to send tothese friends of yours as speedily as may be, bidding them give you,without delay, whatever proofs may be in their hands. 'Tis probablethat other things may arise to strengthen our conviction. When we seewhat they can furnish us with, our course will be soon decided. Ifthere be anything like fair evidence that Richard de Ashby has donethis deed, I will stop the combat, and proclaim his guilt; but unless Iam sure, I must not pretend to do so, lest I bring upon myself thecharge of base ingratitude. He it was, Hugh, who furnished me with theswift horse, whereon I fled from Hereford; and though I own that Iwould have chosen any other man in all England to aid in my deliverancerather than him, yet I must not show myself thankless. And 'tis butyesterday that I moved my father to give him the lands of Cottington ashis reward."
"The very act, my lord," replied Hugh, "which merits your gratitude,was one of treachery to the party which he pretended to serve. For thatI will not blame him, however; but he is a dark and deceitful man, andthe proof can be made clear, I do not doubt. I will send instantly, asyou direct. All that I gain in way of proof I will give into your hand,my lord, and let you rule and direct my conduct. It is so terrible achoice which lies before me, that my brain seems bewildered when Ithink of it."
"It is sad, indeed!" replied Edward. "I have put it to my heart,Monthermer, how I should act, were I placed as you are, and I know howpainful would be the decision. Whatever happens in the lists--whoeverlives, whoever dies--you must be the loser. If you are vanquished--if,by a hesitating heart or unwilling hand, you give the victory to youradversary, you lose not only renown, but honour and esteem with allmen; you lose not only life but reputation. If you conquer--if you winhonour, and maintain your innocence--your love and happiness is gonefor ever. 'Tis a hard fate, Monthermer; and whatever can be done toavert it shall be done by me;--but I must leave you now. You will ofcourse be present at the King's supper. Bear, I beseech you, a calm andsteady countenance, that your enemies may not triumph. Your accuser isgone back to Lindwell; and Edward's friend must not seem cast down."
Thus saying, he rose to quit the chamber; but before he went, he benthis head, adding, in a lower voice, "Doubtless you know your lady-loveis here--ay, here, in Nottingham Castle, with the Princess Eleanor. Ofcourse, in these days of mourning, she mingles not with the court; butif it be possible, I will contrive that you shall see her. Methinks thelaws of chivalry require it should be so."
"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Hugh, clasping his hands--"wherever she were, Iwould demand to see her; and no one bearing knightly sword and spurwould venture to refuse me. Have I not to tell her how my heart iswrung?--Have I not to show her that this is no deed of mine?--Have Inot to prove to her that I am but a passive instrument in the hands offate?--that the death which he calls upon his head, is her brother'sown seeking; and that I am no more answerable for it than the lancethat strikes him?--Oh yes, my lord, I must see her!"
"You shall, you shall," replied Edward, "but it must not be to-night.Farewell, for the present;" and thus saying, he quitted the room.
Forest Days: A Romance of Old Times Page 37