In the Days of Chivalry: A Tale of the Times of the Black Prince

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by Evelyn Everett-Green


  CHAPTER XXX. WITH THE PRINCE.[i]

  "Sanghurst dead! Joan free! her father's consent won! I the Lord ofBasildene! Gaston, thou takest away my breath! Art sure thou art notmocking me?"

  "Art sure that thou art indeed thyself, my lord of Basildene?" wasGaston's merry response, as he looked his brother over from head to footwith beaming face; "for, in sooth, I scarce should know thee for thebrother I left behind -- that wan and wasted creature, more like acorpse than a man. The good Brothers have indeed done well by thee,Raymond. Save that thou hast not lost thine old saintly look, whichstamps thee as something different from the rest of us, I should scarcehave thought it could be thee. This year spent in thine own native climehas made a new man of thee!"

  "In truth I think it has," answered Raymond, who was indeed wonderfullychanged from the time when Gaston had left him, rather more than tenmonths before. "We had no snow and no cold in the winter gone by, and Iwas able to take the air daily, and I grew strong wondrous fast. Thouhadst told me to be patient, to believe that all was well if I heardnothing from thee; and I strove to follow thy maxim, and that with goodsuccess. I knew that thou wouldst not let me go on hoping if hope meantbut a bitterer awaking. I knew that silence must mean there was workwhich thou wert doing. Many a time, as a white-winged vessel spread hersails for England's shores, have I longed to step on board and followthee across the blue water to see how thou wast faring; but then camealways the thought that thou mightest be on thy way hither, and thatthou wouldst chide me for having left these sheltering walls. And so Istayed on day after day, and week after week, until months had rolledby; and I began to say within myself that, if thou camest not before theautumn storms, I must e'en take ship and follow thee, for I could waitno longer for news of thee -- and her."

  "And here I am with news of her, and news that to me is almost better.Raymond, I have not come hither alone. The Prince and the flower of ourEnglish chivalry are here at Bordeaux this day. The hollow truce is atan end. Insult upon insult has been heaped upon England's King by theKing of France, the King of Navarre (who called himself our ally till hedeserted us to join the French King, who will yet avenge upon him hisfoul murder of Charles of Spain), and the Count of Blois in Brittany.England has been patient. Edward has listened long to the pleadings ofthe Pope, and has not rushed into war; but he cannot wait patiently forever. They have roused the lion at last, and he will not slumber againtill he has laid his foes in the dust.

  "Listen, Raymond: the Prince is here in Bordeaux. The faithful Gasconnobles -- the Lord of Pommiers, the Lord of Rosen, the Lord of Mucident,and the Lord de l'Esparre -- have sent to England to say that if thePrince will but come to lead them, they will make gallant war upon theFrench King. John has long been striving to undermine England's power inhis kingdom, to rid himself of an enemy's presence in his country, to beabsolute lord over his vassals without their intermediate allegiance toanother master. It does not suffice that our great King does homage forhis lands in France (though he by rights is King of France himself). Heknows that here, in these sunny lands of the south, the Roy Outremer isbeloved as he has never been. He would fain rob our King of all hislands; he is planning and plotting to do it."

  "But the Roy Outremer is not to be caught asleep," cried Raymond, with akindling glance, "and John of France is to learn what it is to havearoused the wrath of the royal Edward and of his brave people of England."

  "Ay, verily; and our good Gascons are as forward in Edward's cause ashis English subjects," answered Gaston quickly. "They love our Englishrule, they love our English ways; they will not tamely be transformedinto a mere fief of the French crown. They will fight for their feudallord, and stand stanchly by his banner. It is their express request thatbrings the Prince hither today. The King is to land farther north -- atCherbourg methinks it was to be; whilst my Lord of Lancaster has setsail for Brittany, to defend the Countess of Montford from the Count ofBlois, who has now paid his ransom and is free once more. His Majesty ofFrance will have enough to do to meet three such gallant foes in the field.

  "And listen still farther, Raymond, for the Prince has promised thisthing to me -- that as he marches through the land, warring against theFrench King, he will pause before the Castle of Saut and smoke out theold fox, who has long been a traitor at heart to the English cause. Andthe lands so long held by the Navailles are to be mine, Raymond -- mine.And a De Brocas will reign once more at Saut, as of old! What dost thouthink of that?"

  "Brother, I am glad at heart. It seemeth almost like a dream. Thou thelord of Saut and I of Basildene! Would that she were living yet to seethe fulfilment of her dream!"

  "Ay, truly I would she were. But, Raymond, thou wilt join the Prince'sstandard; thou wilt march with us to strike a blow for England's honourand glory? Basildene and fair Mistress Joan are safe. No harm will cometo them by thine absence. And thou owest all to the Prince. Surely thouwilt not leave him in the hour of peril; thou wilt march beneath hisbanner and take thy share of the peril and the glory?"

  Gaston spoke with eager energy, looking affectionately into hisbrother's face; and as he saw that look, Raymond felt that he could notrefuse his brother's request. For just a few moments he hesitated, forthe longing to see Joan once again and to clasp her in his arms was verystrong within him; but his brother's next words decided him.

  "Thy brother and the Prince have won Basildene for thee; surely thouwilt not leave us till Saut has yielded to me!"

  Raymond held out his hand and grasped that of Gaston in a warm clasp.

  "We will go forth together once again as brothers in arms," he said,with brightening eyes. "It may be that our paths in life may henceforthbe divided; wherefore it behoves us in the time that remains to us tocling the more closely together. I will go with thee, brother, as thyfaithful esquire and comrade, and we will win back for thee the right tocall the old lands thine. How often we have dreamed together in ourchildhood of some such day! How far away it then appeared! and yet theday has come."

  "And thou wilt then see my Constanza," said Gaston, in low, exultanttones -- "my lovely and gentle mistress, to whom thou, my brother, owestthy life. It is meet that thou shouldst be one to help to set her freefrom the tyranny of her rude uncle and the isolation of her dreary lifein yon grim castle walls. Thou hast seen her, hast thou not? Tell me,was she not the fairest, the loveliest object thine eyes had ever lookedupon, saving of course (to thee) thine own beauteous lady?"

  "Methought it was some angel visitor from the unseen world," answeredRaymond, "flitting into yon dark prison house, where it seemed that nosuch radiant creature could dwell. There was fever in my blood, and allI saw was through a misty veil, I scarce believed it more than a sweetvision; but I will thank her now for the whispered word of hope breathedin mine ear in the hour of my sorest need."

  "Ay, that thou shalt do!" cried Gaston, with all a lover's delight inthe thought of the near meeting with the lady of his heart. "And when,in days to come, thou and I shall bring our brides to Edward's Court,men will all agree that two nobler, lovelier women never stepped thisearth before -- my fairy Constanza, a creature of fire and snow; thyJoan, a veritable queen amongst women, stately, serene, full of dignityand courage, and beautiful as she is noble."

  "And thou art sure that she is safe?" questioned Raymond, his heartstill longing for the moment of reunion after the long separation,albeit those were days when the separation of years was no infrequentthing, even betwixt those most closely drawn by bonds of love. "There isnone else to come betwixt her and me? Her father will not strive tosunder us more?"

  "Her father is but too joyous to be free from the power of theSanghurst; and the Prince spoke words that brought the flush of shametingling to his face. An age of chivalry, and a man selling his daughterfor filthy lucre to one renowned for his evil deeds and remorselesscruelties! A lady forced to flee her father's house and brave the perilsof the road to escape a terrible doom! I would thou hadst heard him,Raymond our noble young Prince, with scorn in his voice and the light ofi
ndignation in his eyes. And thy Joan stood beside him; he held her handthe while, as though he would show to all men that the heir of Englandwas the natural protector of outraged womanhood, that the upholder ofchivalry would stand to his colours, and be the champion of everydistressed damsel throughout the length and the breadth of the land. Andthe lady looked so proud and beautiful that I trow she might have hadsuitors and to spare in that hour; but the Prince, still holding herhand, told her father all the story of her plighted troth to thee --that truest troth plight of changeless love. And he told him how thatBasildene and all its treasure had been secured to thee, and asked himwas he willing to give his daughter to the Lord of Basildene? And SirHugh was but too glad that no more than this was asked of him, and inpresence of the Prince and of us all he pledged his daughter's hand tothee, I standing as thy proxy, as I have told thee. And now thy Joan iswell-nigh as fully thine as though ye had joined your hands in holywedlock. Thou hast naught to fear from her father's act. He is but toomuch rejoiced with the fashion in which all has turned out. His word ispledged before the Prince; and moreover thou art the lord of Basildeneand its treasure, and what more did he ever desire? It was a share inthat gold for which he would have sold his daughter."

  Raymond's face took a new look, one of shrinking and pain.

  "I like not that treasure, Gaston," he said. "It is like the price ofblood. I would that the King had taken it for his own. It seemeth asthough it could never bring a blessing with it."

  "Methinks it could in thy hands and Joan's," answered Gaston, with afond, proud glance at his brother's beautiful face; "and as the Princetruly said, since this scourge has swept through the land, claiming afull half of its inhabitants, it would be a hopeless task to try todiscover the real owners; and moreover a part may be the Sanghurststore, which men have always said is no small thing, and which in verytruth is now thine. But thou canst speak to Father Paul of all that. TheChurch will give thee holy counsel. Methinks that gold in thy handswould ever be used so as to bring with it a blessing and not a curse.

  "But come now with me to the Prince. He greatly desires to see theeagain. He has not forgot thee, brother mine, nor that exploit of thineat the surrender of Calais."

  Father Paul was not at that time within the Monastery walls, his dutiescalling him hither and thither, sometimes in one land and sometimes inanother. Raymond had enjoyed a peaceful time of rest and mentalrefreshment with the good monks, but he was more than ready to go forthinto the world again. Quiet and study were congenial to him, but thelife of a monk was not to his taste. He saw clearly the evils to whichsuch a calling was exposed, and how easy it was to forget the highideal, and fall into self indulgence, idleness, and sloth.

  Not that the abuses which in the end caused the monastic system to fallinto such contempt were at that time greatly developed; but the germs ofthe evil were there, and it needed a nature such as that of Father Pauland men of his stamp to show how noble the life of devotion could bemade. Ordinary men fell into a routine existence, and were in danger ofletting their duties and even their devotions become purely mechanical.

  Raymond said adieu to his hospitable entertainers with some naturalregrets, yet with a sense that there was a wider work for him to do inthe world than any he should ever find between Monastery walls. Evenapart from all thoughts of love and marriage, there was attraction forhim in the world of chivalry and warfare. His ambition took a differentform from that of the average youth of the day, but none the less forthat did it act upon him like a spur, driving him forth where strife andconflict were being waged, and where hard blows were to be struck.

  Gaston's brother was warmly welcomed in the camp of the Prince. Manythere were who remembered the dreamy-faced lad, who had seemed like ayoung Saint Michael amongst them, and still bore about with himsomething of that air of remoteness which was never without its effecteven upon the rudest of his companions. Indeed the ordeal through whichhe had passed had left an indelible stamp upon him. If the face lookedolder than of yore, it was not that the depth and spirituality of theexpression had in any wise diminished.

  The two brothers standing together formed a perfect picture incontrasted types -- the bronzed, stalwart soldier in his coat of mail,looking every inch the brave knight he was; and the slim, pale-facedRaymond, with the haunting eyes and wonderful smile, which irradiatedhis face like a gleam of light from another world, bearing about withhim that which seemed to stamp him as somewhat different from hisfellows, and yet which always commanded from them not only admiration,but affection and respect.

  The Prince's greeting was warm and hearty. He felt towards Raymond allthat goodwill which naturally follows an act of generous interference onbehalf of an injured person. He made him sit beside him in his tent atsupper time, and tell him all his history; and the promise made toGaston with reference to the tyrant Lord of Saut was ratified anew asthe wine circulated at table. The chosen comrades of the Prince, who hadmost of them known the twin brothers for many years, vowed themselves tothe enterprise with hearty goodwill; and had the Lord of Navailles beenthere to hear, he might well have trembled for his safety, despite thestrong walls and deep moat that environed Saut.

  "Let his walls be never so strong, I trow we can starve or smoke the oldfox out!" quoth young Edward, laughing. "There be many strong citadels,many a fortified town, that will ere long open their gates at thesummons of England's Prince. How say ye, my gallant comrades? Shall theold Tower of Saut defy English arms? Shall we own ourselves beaten byany Sieur de Navailles?"

  The shout with which these words were answered was answer sufficient.The English and Gascon lords, assembled together under the banner of thePrince, were bent on a career of glory and plunder. The inaction of thelong truce, with its perpetual sources of irritation and friction, hadbeen exasperating in the extreme. It was an immense relief to them tofeel that war had at last been declared, and that they could unfurltheir banners and march forth against their old enemy, and enrichthemselves for life at his expense.

  With the march of the Prince through south France we have little concernin this history. It was one long triumphal progress, not over and aboveglorious from a military standpoint; for there were no real battles, andthe accumulation of plunder and the infliction of grievous damage uponthe French King's possessions seemed the chief object of the expedition.Had there been any concerted resistance to the Prince's march, doubtlesshe might have shown something of his great military talents in directinghis forces in battle; but as it was, the country appeared paralyzed athis approach: place after place fell before him, or bought him off by aheavy price; and though there were several citadels in the vanquishedtowns which held out for France, the Prince seldom stayed to subduethem, but contented himself with plundering and burning the town. Not avery glorious style of warfare for those days of vaunted chivalry, yetone, nevertheless, characteristic enough of the times. Everyundertaking, however small, gave scope for deeds of individual gallantryand the exercise of individual acts of courtliness and chivalry; andeven the battles were often little more than a countless number ofhand-to-hand conflicts carried on by the individual members of theopposing armies. The Prince and his chosen comrades, always on the watchfor opportunities of showing their prowess and of exercising theirknightly chivalry towards any miserable person falling in their own way,were doubtless somewhat blinded to the ignoble side of such a campaign.

  However that may be, Raymond often felt a sinking at heart as he sawtheir path marked out by blazing villages and wasted fields; and almostall his own energies were concentrated in striving to do what one mancould achieve to mitigate the horrors of war for some of its helplessvictims.

  Narbonne, on the Gulf of Lions, was the last place attacked and taken bythe Prince, who then decided to return with his spoil to Bordeaux, andpass the remainder of the winter in the capture of certain places thatwould be useful to the English.

  Nothing had all this time been spoken as to Saut, which lay out of theline of their march in the heart of friendly Gascony.
But the projecthad by no means been abandoned, and the Prince was but waiting afavourable opportunity to carry it into effect.

  The Sieur de Navailles had not attempted to join the Prince's standard,as so many of the Gascon nobles had done, but had held sullenly aloof,probably watching and waiting to see the result of this expedition, butby no means prepared to adventure his person into the hands of a feudallord against whom his own sword had more than once been drawn. He waswell aware, no doubt, that there were pages in his past history withregard to his relations with France that would not bear inspection byEnglish eyes, and perhaps he trusted to the remoteness and obscurity ofhis two castles to save him from the notice of the Prince.

  The terror inspired by the English arms in France is a thing that mustalways excite the wonder and curiosity of the readers of history. It wasdisplayed on and after the Battle of Crecy, when Edward's army, ifnumbers counted for anything, ought to have been simply annihilated bythe vast musters of the French, who were in their own land surrounded byfriends, whilst the English were a small band in the midst of a hostileand infuriated population. This same thing was seen again in the marchof the Prince of Wales, soon to be called the Black Prince, when cityafter city bought him off, hopeless of resisting his progress; and whenthe army mustered by the Count of Armagnac to oppose the retreat of theEnglish to Bordeaux with their spoil was seized with a panic after themerest skirmish, and fled, leaving the Prince to pursue his way unmolested.

  If the conduct of the English army was somewhat inglorious, certainlythe behaviour of their foes was still more so. The English were alwaysready to fight if they could find an enemy to meet them. Possibly thedoubtful character of the Prince's first campaign was less his faultthan that of his pusillanimous enemies.

  Bordeaux reached, however, and the Gascon soldiers dismissed to theirhomes for the winter months, the Prince promising to lead them next yearupon a more glorious campaign, in which fresh spoil was to be won andmore victories achieved, there was time for the consideration of objectsof minor importance, and a breathing space wherein private interestscould be considered.

  Gaston had repressed all impatience during the march of the Prince. Hehad not looked that his own affairs should take the foremost place inthe Prince's scheme. Moreover, he saw well that it would give a falsecolour to the expedition if the first march of the Prince had been intoGascony; nor was the capture of so obscure a fortress as the Castle ofSaut a matter to engross the energies of the whole of the allied army.

  But now that the army was partially disbanded, whilst the Englishcontingent was either in winter quarters in Bordeaux or engaged here andthere in the capture of such cities and fortresses as the Prince decidedworth the taking, the moment appeared to be favourable for thatlong-wished-for capture of Saut; and Gaston, taking his brother asideone day, eagerly opened to him his mind.

  "Raymond, I have spoken to the Prince. He is ready and willing to giveme men at any time I ask him. Perchance he will even come himself, ifduty calls him not elsewhere. The thing is now in mine own hands.Brother, when shall the attempt be made?"

  Raymond smiled at the eager question.

  "Sir Knight, thou art more the warrior than I. Thou best knowest the dayand the hour for such a matter."

  Gaston passed his hand through his hair, and a softer light shone in hiseyes. His brother knew of whom he was thinking, and he was not surprisedat the next words.

  "Raymond, methinks before I do aught else I must see her once more. Myheart is hungry for her. I think of her by day and dream of her bynight. Perchance there might be some more peaceful way of winningentrance to Saut than by battering down the walls, and doing by hap somehurt to the precious treasure within. Brother, wilt thou wander forthwith me once again -- thou and I, and a few picked men, in case of perilby the way, to visit Saut by stealth? We would go by the way of FatherAnselm's and our old home. I have a fancy to see the dear old faces onceagain. Thou hast, doubtless, seen them all this year that has passed by,but I not for many an one."

  "I saw Father Anselm in Bordeaux," answered Raymond; "and good Jean,when he heard I was there, came all the way to visit me. But Iadventured not myself so near the den of Navailles. The Brothers wouldnot permit it. They feared lest I might fall again into his power.Gladly, indeed, would I come and see them once again. I have picturedmany times how, when thou art Lord of Saut, I will bring my Joan tovisit thee, and show her to good Jean and Margot and saintly FatherAnselm. I would fain talk to them of that day. They ever feel towards usas though we were their children in very truth."

  There was no difficulty in obtaining the Prince's sanction to thisabsence from Bordeaux. He gave the brothers free leave to carry outtheir plan by any means they chose, promising if they sent him word atany time that they were ready for the assault, he would either comehimself or send a picked band of veterans to their aid; and saying thatGaston was to look upon himself as Lord of Saut, by mandate from theEnglish King, who would enforce his right by his royal power if anyusurping noble dared to dispute it with him.

  Thus fortified by royal warrant, and with a heart beating high with hopeand love, Gaston set out with some two score soldiers as a bodyguard toreconnoitre the land; and upon the evening of the second day, thebrothers saw, in the fast-fading light of the winter's day, the redroofs of the old mill lying peacefully in the gathering shadows of theearly night.

  Their men had been dismissed to find quarters in the village forthemselves, and Roger was their only attendant, as they drew rein beforethe door of the mill, and saw the miller coming quickly round the angleof the house to inquire what these strangers wanted there at such an hour.

  "Jean!" cried Gaston, in his loud and hearty tones, the language of hishome springing easily to his lips, though the English tongue was now theone in which his thoughts framed themselves. "Good Jean, dost thou notknow us?"

  The beaming welcome on the miller's face was answer enough in itself;and, indeed, he had time to give no other, for scarce had the wordspassed Gaston's lips before there darted out from the open door of thehouse a light and fairy-like form, and a silvery cry of rapture brokefrom the lips of the winsome maiden, whilst Gaston leaped from his horsewith a smothered exclamation, and in another moment the light fairy formseemed actually swallowed up in the embrace of those strong arms.

  "Constanza my life -- my love!"

  "O Gaston, Gaston! can it in very truth be thou?"

  Raymond looked on in mute amaze, turning his eyes from the loverstowards the miller, who was watching the encounter with a beaming face.

  "What means it all?" asked the youth breathlessly.

  "Marry, it means that the maiden has found her true knight," answeredJean, all aglow with delight; but then, understanding better the driftof Raymond's question, he turned his eyes upon him again, and said:

  "You would ask how she came hither? Well, that is soon told. It was onenight nigh upon six months agone, and we had long been abed, when weheard a wailing sound beneath our windows, and Margot declared there wasa maiden sobbing in the garden below. She went down to see, and then themaid told her a strange, wild tale. She was of the kindred of the Sieurde Navailles, she said, and was the betrothed wife of Gaston de Brocas;and as we knew somewhat of her tale through Father Anselm, who had heardof your captivity and rescue, we knew that she spoke the truth. She saidthat since the escape, which had so perplexed the wicked lord, he hadbecome more fierce and cruel than before, and that he seemed in somesort to suspect her, though of what she scarce knew. She told us thathis mind seemed to be deserting him, that she feared he was growinglunatic. He was so fierce and wild at times that she feared for her ownlife. She bore it as long as her maid, the faithful Annette, lived; butin the summer she fell sick of a fever, and died -- the lady knew not ifit were not poison that had carried her off -- and a great terror seizedher. Not two days later, she fled from her gloomy home, and not knowingwhere else to hide her head, she fled hither, trusting that her loverwould shortly come to free her from her uncle's tyranny, as he hadsw
orn, and believing that the home which had sheltered the infancy ofthe De Brocas brothers would give her shelter till that day came."

  "And you took her in and guarded her, and kept her safe from harm,"cried Raymond, grasping the hand of the honest peasant and wringing ithard. "It was like you to do it, kind, good souls! My brother will thankyou, in his own fashion, for such service. But I must thank you, too.And where is Margot? for I trow she has been as a mother to the maid. Iwould see her and thank her, for Gaston has no eyes nor ears for any onebut his fair lady."

  Gaston, indeed, was like one in a dream. He could scarce believe theevidence of his senses; and it was a pretty sight to see how the winsomeConstanza clung to him, and how it seemed as though she could not bearto let her eyes wander for a moment from his face.

  Only at night, when the brothers stood together in the room they hadoccupied of yore, and clasped each other by the hand in warmcongratulation, did Raymond really know how this meeting affected theobject of their journey; then Gaston, looking grave and thoughtful,spoke a few words of his purpose.

  "The Sieur de Navailles is a raging madman. That I can well divine fromwhat Constanza says. Tomorrow we will to Saut, to see what we maydiscover there on the spot. It may be we may have no bloody warfare towage; it may be that Saut may be won without the struggle we havethought. His own people are terrified before him. Constanza thinks thatI have but to declare myself and show the King's warrant to beproclaimed by all as Lord and Master of Saut."

 

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