CHAPTER IV.
THE NORMAN LORDS.
"Oh! it is excellent To have a giant's strength, but tyrannous To use it like a giant."
MEASURE FOR MEASURE.
High up in a green, gentle valley, a lap among the hills, which,though not very lofty, were steep and abrupt with limestone crags andledges, heaving themselves above the soil on their upper slopes andsummits, perched on a small isolated knoll, or hillock, so regular inform, and so evenly scarped and rounded, that it bore the appearanceof an artificial work, stood the tall Norman fortalice of Philip deMorville.
It was not a very large building, consisting principally of a singlelofty square keep, with four lozenge-shaped turrets at the angles,attached to the body of the place, merlonwise, as it is termed inheraldry, or corner to corner, rising some twenty feet or more abovethe flat roof of the tower, which was surrounded with heavy projectingbattlements widely overhanging the base, and pierced with crenellesfor archery, and deep machicolations, by which to pour down boilingoil, or molten lead, upon any who should attempt the walls.
In the upper stories only, of this strong place, were there anywindows, such as deserved the name, beyond mere loops and arrowslits;but there, far above the reach of any scaling-ladder, they looked out,tall and shapely, glimmering in the summer sunshine, in the rich andgorgeous hues of the stained glass--at that time the most recent andcostly of foreign luxuries, opening on a projecting gallery, orbartizan, of curiously-carved stonework, which ran round all the foursides of the building, and rendered the dwelling apartments of thecastellan and his family both lightsome and commodious. One of thetall turrets, which have been described, contained the windingstaircase, which gave access to the halls and guard-rooms whichoccupied all the lower floors, and to the battlements above, whileeach of the others contained sleeping-chambers of narrow dimensions,on each story, opening into the larger apartments.
This keep, with the exception of the tall battlemented flanking walls,with their esplanades and turrets, and advanced barbican orgate-house, was the only genuine Norman portion of the castle, andoccupied the very summit of the knoll; but below it, and for the mostpart concealed and covered by the ramparts on which it abutted, was along, low, roomy stone building, which had been in old times themansion of the Saxon thane, who had occupied the rich and fertilelands of that upland vale, in the happy days before the advent of thefierce and daring Normans, to whom he had lost both life and lands,and left an empty name alone to the inheritance, which was not todescend to any of his race or lineage.
Below the walls, which encircled the hillock about midway between thebase and summit, except at one spot, where the gate-house was thrustforward to the brink of a large and rapid brook, which had been madeby artificial means completely to encircle the little hill, the slopeswere entirely bare of trees or underwood, every thing that couldpossibly cover the advances of an enemy being carefully cut down oruprooted, and were clothed only by a dense carpet of short, thickgreensward, broidered with daisies pied, and silver lady's smocks; butbeyond the rivulet, covering all the bottom of the valley with richand verdant shade, were pleasant orchards and coppices, among whichpeeped out the thatched roofs and mud walls of the little village,inhabited by the few free laborers, and the more numerous thralls andland-serfs, who cultivated the demesnes of the foreign noble, whopossessed them by right of the sword.
Through this pleasant little hamlet, the yellow road, which led up tothe castle, wound devious, passing in its course by an open green, onwhich half a dozen sheep and two or three asses were feeding on theshort herbage, with a small Saxon chapel, distinguished by its low,round, wolf-toothed arch and belfry, on the farther side; and, insingular proximity to the sacred edifice, a small space, inclosed by apalisade, containing a gallows, a whipping-post, and a pair ofstocks--sad monuments of Saxon slavery, and Norman tyranny and wrong.
In one of the upper chambers of the feudal keep, a small square room,with a vaulted roof, springing from four clustered columns in thecorners, with four groined ribs, meeting in the middle, from whichdescended a long, curiously-carved pendant of stone, terminating in agilt iron candelabrum of several branches, two men were seated at aboard, on which, though the solid viands of the mid-day meal had beenremoved, there were displayed several silver dishes, with wastelbread, dried fruits, and light confections, as well as two or threetall, graceful flasks of the light fragrant wines of Gascony andAnjou, and several cups and tankards of richly-chased and gildedmetal, intermixed with several large-bowled and thin-stemmed gobletsof purple and ruby-colored glass.
The room was a very pleasant one, lighted by two tall windows, on twodifferent sides, which stood wide open, admitting the soft, balmy,summer air, and the fresh smell of the neighboring greenwoods, thebreezy voice of which came gently in, whispering through the casement.The walls were hung with tapestries of embossed and gilded Spanishleather, adorned with spirited figures of Arab skirmishers andChristian chivalry, engaged in the stirring game of warfare; while, nounfit decoration for a wall so covered, two or three fine suits ofchain and plate armor, burnished so brightly that they shone likesilver, with their emblazoned shields and appropriate weapons, stood,like armed knights on constant duty, in canopied niches, framedespecially to receive them.
Varlets, pages, and attendants, had all withdrawn; and the two Normanbarons sat alone, sipping their wine in silence, and apparentlyreflecting on some subject which they found it difficult to approachwithout offense or embarrassment. At last, the younger of the two, SirPhilip de Morville, after drawing his open hand across his fair, broadforehead, as if he would have swept away some cloud which gloomed overhis mind, and drinking off a deep goblet of wine, opened theconversation with evident confusion and reluctance.
"Well, well," he said, "it must out, Sir Yvo, and though it is notvery grateful to speak of such things, I must needs do so, lest Iappear to you uncourtly and ungracious, in hesitating to do to you,mine own most tried and trusty friend, to whom I owe no less than myown life, so small a favor as the granting liberty to one poor devilof a Saxon. I told you I would do it, if I might; yet, by my father'ssoul, I know not how to do it!"
"Where is the rub, my friend?" replied the other, kindly. "I doubtnot, if we put both our heads together, we can accomplish even agreater thing than making a free English yeoman of a Saxon thrall."
"I never was rich, as you well know, De Taillebois; but at the time ofthe king's late incursion into Wales, when I was summoned to lead outmy power, I had no choice but to mortgage this my fortalice, with itsdemesne of Waltheofstow, and all its plenishing and stock, castle andthralls, and crops and fisheries, to Abraham of Tadcaster, fornineteen thousand zecchins, to buy their outfitting, horses, andarmor; and this prohibits me from manumitting this man, Kenric,although I would do so right willingly, not for that it would pleasureyou only, but that he is a faithful and an honest fellow for a thrall,and right handy, both with arbalast and longbow. I know not well howto accomplish it."
"Easily, easily, Philip," answered Sir Yvo, laughing. "Never shall itbe said that nineteen thousand zecchins stood between Yvo deTaillebois and his gratitude; besides, this will shoot double gamewith a single arrow. It will relieve our trusty Kenric from the actualbondage of a corporeal lord and master, and liberate my right goodfriend and brother in arms, Philip de Morville, from the more gallingspiritual bondage of that foul tyrant and perilous oppressor, debt.Tush! no denial, I say," he continued, perceiving that Sir Philip wasabout to make some demur; "it is a mere trifle, this, and a matter ofno moment. I am, as you well know, passing rich, what with my rents inWestmoreland, and my estates beyond the sea. I have even now well-nightwice the sum that you name, lying idle in my bailiff's hands atKendall, until I may find lands to purchase. It was my intent to havebought those border lands of Clifford's, that march with my moorlandson Hawkshead, but it seems he will not sell, and I am doubly glad thatit gives me the occasion to serve you. I will direct my bailiff atonce to take horse for Tadcaster and redeem you
r mortgage, and you cantake your own time and pleasure to repay it. There is no risk, Heavenknows, for Waltheofstow is well worth nineteen thousand zecchins threetimes told, and, in lieu of usance money, you shall transfer the manKenric from thee and thine to me and mine, forever. So shall mygratitude be preserved intact, and my pretty Guendolen have her fondfancy gratified."
"Be it so, then, in God's name; and by my faith I thank you for theloan right heartily; for, on mine honor! that same blood-sucker ofIsrael hath pumped me like the veriest horse-leech, these last twelvemonths, and I know not but I should have had to sell, after all. Wemust have Kenric's consent, however, that all may be in form; for heis no common thrall, but a serf of the soil, and may not be removedfrom it, nor manumitted even, save with his own free will."
"Who ever heard of a serf refusing to be free, more than of a Jew notloving ducats? My life on it, he will not be slow to consent!"
"I trow not, I trow not, De Taillebois, but let us set about itpresently; a good deed can not well be done too quickly. You pass thewine cup, too, I notice. Let us take cap and cloak, and stroll downinto the hamlet yonder; it is a pleasant ramble in the cool afternoon,and we can see him in his den; he will be scant of wind, I trow, andlittle fit to climb the castle hill this evensong, after the batteringhe received from that stout forester. But freedom will be a royalsalve, I warrant me, for his worst bruises. Shall we go?"
"Willingly, willingly. I would have it to tell Guendolen at herwakening. 'T will be a cure to her also. She is a tender-hearted childever, and was so from her cradle. Why, I have known her cry like thelady Niobe, that the prior of St. Albans told us of--who wept till shewas changed into a chipping fountain, when blessed St. Michael and St.George slew all her tribe of children, for that she likened herself,in her vain pride of beauty, to the most holy virgin mother, St. Maryof Sienna--at the killing of a deer by a stray shaft, that had asuckling fawn beside her foot; and when I caused them to imprisonWufgitha, that was her nurse's daughter, for selling of a hundredpounds of flax that was given her to spin, she took sick, and kept toher bed two days and more, all for that she fancied the wench wouldpine; though her prison-house was the airiest and most lightsometurret chamber in my house at Kendal, and she was not in gyves nor onprison diet. Faith! I had no peace with her, till I gave the wholeguidance of the women into her hands. They are all ladies since thatday at Kendal, or next akin to it."
"Over god's forbode!" answered Philip, laughing. "It must have been ablack day for your seneschal. How rules he your warders, since? Myfellow, Hundibert, swears that the girls need more watching than thelaziest swine in the whole Saxon herd. But come; let us be moving."
With that they descended the winding stone stairway into the greathall or guard-room, which occupied the whole of one floor of thecastle--a noble vaulted room, stone-arched and stone-paved, its wallshung with splendid arms and well-used weapons,
"Old swords, and pikes, and bows, And good old shields, and targets, that had borne some stout old blows."
Thence, through an echoing archway, above which in its grooves ofstone hung the steel-clinched portcullis, and down a steep and almostprecipitous flight of steps, without any rail or breastwork, theyreached the large court-yard, where some of the retainers were engagedin trying feats of strength and skill, throwing the hammer, wrestling,or shooting with arbalasts at a mark, while others were playing atgames of chance in a cool shadowy angle of the walls, moistening theiroccupation with an occasional pull at a deep, black tankard, whichstood beside them on the board.
After tarrying a few minutes in the court, observing the wrestlers andcross-bowmen, and throwing in an occasional word of good-humoredencouragement at any good shot or happy fall, the lords passed thedrawbridge, which was lowered, giving access to the pleasant country,over which the warder was gazing half-wistfully, and watching a groupof pretty girls, who were washing clothes in the brook at about half amile's distance, laughing as merrily and singing as tunefully asthough they had been free maidens of gentle Norman lineage, instead ofcontemned and outlawed Saxons, the children, and the wives and mothersof slaves and bond-men in the to be hereafter.
"Hollo! old Stephen," cried the Knight of Morville, gayly, as hepassed the stout dependent; "I thought thou wert too resolute abachelor to cast a sheep's-eye on the lasses, and too thorough-paced aNorman to let the prettiest Saxon of them all find favor in yoursight."
"I don't know, sir; I don't know that," answered the man, with a grin,half-bashfully, and between bantering and earnest. "There's littleEdith down yonder; and, bond or free, there's not a girl about thecastle, or within ten miles of it, for that matter, that has got aneye to come near those blue sparklers of her's; and as for her voice,when she's singing, it would wile the birds out of heaven, let alonethe wits of a poor soldier's brain-pan. Hark to her now, Sir Philip.Sang ever nightingale so sweetly as yon trill, Sir Knight?"
"Win her, Stephen. Win her, I'll grant you my permission, for yourparamour; and if you do, I'll give her to you for your own. I owe youa boon of some sort, for that service you did me when you knocked thatWelch churl on the head, who would have driven his long knife into myribs, that time I was dismounted in the pass near Dunmailraise. Winher, therefore, if you may, Stephen, and yours she shall be, as surelyand as steadfastly as though she were the captive of your spear."
"Small chance, Sir Philip," replied the man, slowly; "all thanks toyou, natheless. But she's troth-plighted to that tall, well-madefellow, Kenric, they say, that saved the lady Guendolen from the stagthis morning. They'll be asking your consent to the wedding and thebedding, one of these days, Beausire. To-morrow, as like as not,seeing this feat of the good youth's will furnish forth a sort of pleafor the asking of a favor."
"That will not much concern you, warder," said Sir Yvo. "Your rivalwill be out of your way shortly. I have asked his freedom but now ofSir Philip, and shall have him away with me the next week, to theNorth country."
"I don't know that will do me much good. They say she loves himparlously, and he her; and she ever looks coldly on me."
"A little perseverance is a certain remedy for cold looks, Stephen.So, don't be down-hearted. You will have a clear field soon."
"I am not so sure of that, sir. I should not wonder if he refused togo."
"Refused to go--to be free--to be his own master, and a thrall andslave no longer!"
"Who can tell, sir?" answered the man. "Saxon or Norman, bond or free,we're all men, after all; and women have made fools of us all, sincethe days of Sir Adam in Paradise, and will, I fancy, to the end of alltime. I'd do and suffer a good deal myself to win such a look out ofEdith's blue eyes, as I saw her give yon Saxon churl, when he came toafter we had thrown cold water on him. And, after all, if SirHercules, of Greece, made a slave of himself, and a she-slave, too, asthat wandering minstrel sang to us in the hall the other day, all towin the love of the beautiful Sultana, Omphale, I don't see, formyself, why a Saxon serf, that's been a serf all his life, and gotpretty well used to it by this time, shouldn't stay a serf all therest of it, to keep the love of Edith, who is prettier a precioussight than the fair Turk, Omphale, I'll warrant. I don't know but whatI would myself."
"Pshaw! Stephen; that smacks Norman--smacks of the _gai science_,chivalry, sentiment, and fine high romance. You'll never see a Saxonsing 'all for love,' I'll warrant you."
"Well, sir, well. We shall see. A Saxon's a man, as I said before; anda Saxon in love is a man in love; and a man in love isn't a man in hissenses any more than Sir Hercules of Greece was, and when a Saxon's inlove, and out of his senses, there's no saying what he'll do; only onemay guess it will be nothing over wise. And so, as I said before, Ishould not wonder if Kenric should not part with collar, thong, andshackles, if he must needs part too with little Edith the Fair. Iwould not, any wise, if I were he, Beausire."
Wager of Battle: A Tale of Saxon Slavery in Sherwood Forest Page 6