CHAPTER II.
_A RIVER JOURNEY._
It was no light task that Leofric had set himself. The river wound inand out through forest tracts hardly ever traversed. Trees blown down inwinter storms lay right athwart the stream. _Debris_ brought down fromabove was often packed tight against such obstructions; and then therewas no way of proceeding save by dragging up the canoe out of the waterand launching it again lower down. As the forest was often very thickand tangled along the banks of the river, this was no light matter, andhad Leofric not been gifted with a strong will and a very resolutepurpose, he might well have given up in despair.
As it was, he found travelling a great deal slower work than he hadanticipated, and already his store of provision was greatly diminished,although he could not flatter himself that he had travelled any verygreat distance. He was sometimes disposed to doubt whether, after all,he had been wise in choosing the waterway in preference to the road.
Night was falling, and it looked as though rain was likely to come on atmoonrise. The clouds were sullen and lowering; the wind moaned andwhistled through the trees, and lashed the water into angry littlewavelets. Leofric was feeling weary and a little depressed by theintense loneliness of his voyage, when suddenly he heard himself hailedby a friendly voice from somewhere out of the thicket.
"Whither away, good friend, and why art thou afloat and alone at thishour of the evening? What dost thou in yon frail craft out on thedarkling river?"
Leofric looked eagerly about him, and espied, not far away, aruddy-faced youth of about his own age, sitting beside the waterfishing, with a basket at his side that showed he had not thus sat invain. With a few strokes of his paddle he brought himself alongside thebank. The sound of a human voice was as music to his ears after the longsilence of the forest.
"Good-even, good comrade," he answered, stepping lightly ashore; "andwelcome indeed is thy friendly voice. For four days have I been aloneupon this river, and the sight of a kindly face is like a draught of newwine."
"But what dost thou alone upon the river?"
"Marry, that is soon told. I am a poor lad who would fain become aclerk, and I am on my way to Oxford, there to seek to maintain myselfwhilst I study the arts and win my way to a livelihood--"
Hardly had he got out these words before the other youth sprang to hisfeet with a whoop of joy, and to Leofric's astonishment flung his armsabout his neck, and fairly danced in the exuberance of his delight.
"Now, what ails thee?" he asked, half amused, half bewildered. "Hastthou taken leave of thy senses, good friend?"
"Thou mayest well ask--methinks it must even seem so; but listen, fairyouth, and soon shalt thou understand. I am the son of a farmer, but I,too, have a great longing after letters. I have heard of this same cityof learning, and I have begged and prayed of my father, who has manyother sons, to let me fare forth and find my way thither, and climb thetree of learning. At first he listened not, but laughed aloud, as did mybrothers. But my mother took my part, and I learned to read last winterat the Monastery, and the kindly fathers spoke well of my progress.Through these winter days I have gone daily thither, taking an offeringof fish, and receiving instruction from them--"
"That is how I obtained such learning as I possess," interposed Leofriceagerly; "and my father taught me too, for he was a scholar of no meanattainments. But it is the monks who possess the books and parchments."
"Yea, verily; and these last weeks I have mastered in some poor sort theart of penmanship. And now my father has almost consented to letting mego. Only he has said that I must wait until chance shall send me acompanion for the way. From time to time there pass by clerks andscholars returning to Oxford after an absence, or making their waythither, even as thou art doing; and my father has promised that I mayjoin myself to the next of these who shall pass by. Now thou dostunderstand why I did so embrace thee. For if thou wilt have me for atravelling companion, we may e'en start forth to-morrow, and findourselves in Oxford ere another week be passed."
No proposition could have been more welcome to Leofric. He had hadenough of loneliness, and this sturdy farmer's son would be the bestpossible comrade for him. He was delighted at the notion. His canoewould carry the double burden, and the fatigues of navigation would begreatly lessened when shared between two.
"Come up to the farm with me," cried his new friend, "and there will bebed and board and a hearty welcome for thee; thou shalt find there abetter lodging than in some hollow tree by the river-banks; and mymother will give us provision enow ere we start forth upon our voyageto-morrow."
Leofric was grateful indeed for this invitation. He made fast his canoe,saw that his few possessions were safely protected from a possiblewetting, and followed his new friend along the narrow winding trackwhich led from the river-side to the clearing round the farmstead.
On the way he learned that his companion's name was JohnDugdale--commonly called Jack. The farm where he had lived all his lifewas situated not more than five miles from the town of Banbury. Jack hadplainly heard more of the news of the world than had reached Leofric inhis quiet home on the upper river. Something of the stir and strife thatwas agitating the kingdom had penetrated even to this lonely farm.
The great Earl of Leicester, Simon de Montfort, had passed throughBanbury on his way from Kenilworth to London, not long ago. There was agreat stir amongst the people, Jack told Leofric, and men spoke of theEarl as a saviour and deliverer, and he was received with something verylike royal honours when he appeared. Leofric asked what it was fromwhich he was to deliver the people, and Jack was not altogether clear asto this; but it had something to do with the exactions of the King andthe Pope; and he was almost certain that the clergy themselves were asangry with the King as the Barons could be. He had heard it said thathalf the revenue of the realm was being taken to enrich the coffers ofthe Pope, or to aid him in his wars. More than that Jack could not say,rumours of so many kinds being afloat.
"But let us once get to Oxford, good comrade, and we shall soon learnall this, and many another thing besides. I want to know what the worldis saying and thinking. I am weary of being stranded here like a leafthat has floated into some backwater and cannot find the channel again.I want to know these things; and if there be stirring times to come forthis land, as many men say there will, I would be in the forefront of itall. I would wield the sword as well as the pen."
This was a new idea to Leofric, who had contented himself hitherto withdreams of scholastic distinction, without considering those othermatters which were exercising the ruling spirits of his day. Jack'swords, however, brought home to him the consciousness that there wouldbe other matters of interest to engross him, once let him enter uponthe life of a rising city. Oxford could not but be a centre of vitalityfor the whole kingdom. Once let him win his way within those walls, anda new world would open before his eyes.
Talking eagerly together, the lads pursued their way through the forestpath, and suddenly emerged upon the clearing where the farmhouse stood.Lights shone hospitably from door and window; a barking of dogs gave awelcome to the son of the house; and Leofric speedily found himselfpushed within a great raftered kitchen, lighted by the blaze of a goodlyfire of logs, where he was quickly surrounded by friendly faces, andwelcomed heartily, even before Jack had told all his tale and explainedwho the stranger was.
The Dugdales were honest farmer folks, always glad to welcome a passingstranger, and to hear any item of news he might come furnished with.Leofric had little enough of this commodity; but the fact that he wasmaking his way to Oxford as a prospective clerk there was a matter ofmuch interest to this household. Farmer Dugdale was a man of his word.He had promised Jack to let him go so soon as he should find a companionto travel with. He would have preferred as companion one who had hadprevious experience of University life; but he would not go back on hisword on that account. Leofric's handsome and open face and winningmanner gained him the good-will of all at the farm: they pressed him toremain their guest for a few days, whil
st Jack's mother made her simplepreparations for sending out her boy into the world for an indefinitetime, and the two companions learned to know each other better.
Leofric was willing enough to do this. He was very happy amongst thesehearty, homely people, and became attached to all of them, especially toJack. Together they strengthened the canoe, made a locker in which tostow away sufficient provision for the journey, and a second paddle forJack to wield, which he quickly learned to do with skill and address.
Jack's mother took Leofric to her motherly heart at once, and she madesundry additions to his scanty stock of clothing, seeing that hisequipment equalled that of her own son. It was little enough when allwas said and done; for times were simple, and luxuries unknown andundreamed of, save in the houses of great nobles. The boys felt richindeed as they beheld their outfits made ready for them, and there wasquite a feast held in their honour upon the last evening ere theylaunched forth upon their long journey.
Happy as Leofric had been at the farm, he was still conscious of athrill of pleasure when he and Jack dipped their paddles and set forthupon their journey together. The Dugdale family, assembled on the banks,gave them a hearty cheer. They answered by an eager hurrah, and then,shooting round a bend in the stream, they found themselves alone on thesparkling waterway.
To Leofric this voyage was very different from the last. There were thesame obstacles and difficulties to be overcome, but these seemed smallnow that they were shared between two. Jack was strong, patient, andmerry. He made light of troubles and laughed at mishaps. They faredsumptuously from the well-stocked larder of the farm, and the weatherwas warm and sunny. To make a bed of leaves in some hollow tree, andbathe in the clear, cold river on awaking, was no hardship to eitherlad. They declared they did not mind how long the journey lasted, savefor the natural impatience of youth to arrive at a given destination.
"And I should like an adventure," quoth Jack, "ere we sight the wallsand towers of Oxford Castle. Men talk of the perils of travel; but,certes, we have seen nothing of them. I've had more adventure tackling agreat pike in the stream at home sometimes than we have seen so far."
Nevertheless Jack was to have his wish, and the travellers were to meetwith an adventure before they reached their journey's end.
It came about in this wise.
They knew that they must be drawing near their journey's end. They hadbeen told by a woodman, whose hut had given them shelter upon the lastnight, that the forest and palace of Woodstock were near at hand. Theywanted to get a view of that royal residence. So upon the day followingthey halted soon after mid-day, and leaving their canoe securely hiddenin some drooping alder bushes, they struck away along a forest trackdescribed to them by the woodman, which would, if rightly followed,conduct them to a hill from whence a view could be obtained of thepalace.
Walking was tedious and difficult, and they often lost their way in theintricacies of the forest; but still they persevered, and were rewardedat last by a partial view of the place, which was a finer building thaneither of the lads had ever seen before. But the sun was getting low inthe sky by this time, and they had still to make their way back to theirboat, unless they were to sleep supperless in the forest; so they didnot linger long upon the brow of the hill, but quickly retraced theirsteps through the forest, trying to keep at least in the rightdirection, even though they might miss the actual path by which they hadcome.
Suddenly they became aware of a tumult going on in a thicket not veryfar away. They heard the sound of blows, of cries and shouts--then ofoaths and more blows. Plainly there was a fight going on somewhere closeat hand, and equally plain was it that travellers were being robbed andmaltreated by some forest ruffians, of whom there were always a numberin all the royal forests, where fat bucks might chance to be shot,undetected by the king's huntsmen.
The lads had both cut themselves stout staffs to beat down theobstructions in the path. Now they grasped their cudgels tightly intheir hands and looked at each other.
"Let us to the rescue!" quoth Jack, between his clenched teeth. "I cannever hear the sound of blows without longing to be in the thick of thefray. Like enough in the gathering shades the assailants will think webe a larger party, and will make off. Be that as it may, let us lendour aid whilst it may serve those in distress."
Leofric nodded, grasping his staff firmly in his hand. He had all thecourage of a highly-strung nature, even if he lacked Jack's physicalvigour.
Springing through the leafy glades of the forest, they soon came uponthe scene of the encounter, and easy was it to see that robbery andspoliation was the object of the attack.
Four stalwart young men, wild and dishevelled of aspect, armed withstout cudgels and bows and arrows, had set upon two travellers, whoseclothes denoted them to be men of substance. They had been overpoweredby their assailants, though plainly not till a severe struggle had takenplace. Both were now lying upon the ground, overmastered each by a pairof strong knaves; and in spite of their cries and struggles, it wasplain that these sturdy robbers were rifling them of such valuables asthey possessed.
Jack took in the situation at a glance. With a yell of defiance hesprang upon the nearest rogue, and hurled him backwards with such rightgood will that he reeled heavily against a tree trunk, and fellprostrate, half stunned. In a second the traveller had wrenched himselffree from the other assailant, and had dealt him such a sounding blowacross the pate (he having laid aside his stick in order the better toplunder) that he measured his length upon the turf, and lay motionless;whilst the other pair of bandits, who had been belaboured by Leofric,seeing that they were now overpowered and in no small danger ofcapture, flung down their booty and made off to the woods, draggingtheir helpless comrade with them.
It was no part of the travellers' plan to take into custody theseknaves, and they made no attempt to detain them, glad enough to see themmake off in the darkening forest. But they turned to their preserverswith words of warm gratitude, and showed how narrowly they had escapedbeing muleted of rather large sums of money; for one had a belt intowhich many broad gold pieces had been sewn, and the purse of the otherwas heavy and well plenished.
"We are travelling to Oxford," said he of the belt. "We joined for atime the convoy of one of the 'fetchers,' conveying young lads and poorclerks thither. But as we neared the place we grew impatient at thethought of another night's halt, and thought we would strike across theforest ourselves, and reach our goal soon after sundown. But we missedour way, and these fellows set upon us. It is a trade with some lewdfellows calling themselves clerks, and often pleading benefit of clergyif caught, to infest these woods, and fall upon scholars returning tothe University, and rob them of such moneys as they bear upon theirpersons."
Leofric's eyes were wide with amaze.
"Surely those fellows were not clerks from Oxford?"
"Like enow they were. There be a strange medley of folks callingthemselves by that name that frequent the streets and lanes of the city,or congregate without the walls in hovels and booths. Some of these,having neither means to live nor such characters as render them fitsubjects to be helped from any of the chests, take to the woods for alivelihood, shooting the King's bucks or falling unawares upontravellers. Some clerks run to the woods for refuge after some wildoutbreak of lawlessness. There be many wild, lawless knaves habited inthe gown of the clerk and wearing the tonsure. Are ye twain from Oxfordyourselves, or bound thither, since ye seem little acquaint with theways of the place?"
Explanations were quickly made, and the two elder youths, who might havebeen eighteen and nineteen years old perhaps, suggested that they shouldfinish the journey together on foot, lading themselves with the contentsof the canoe, but leaving it behind in the alders, to be fetched awaysome other time if wanted. They were near to the river by this time, andthe lads quickly fetched their goods, glad enough to travel into thecity in company with two comrades who plainly knew the place and thelife right well.
They were very open about themselves. The name of one wa
s Hugh leBarbier, and he was the son of an esquire who held a post in the houseof one of the retainers of the Earl of Leicester--"the great DeMontfort," as the youth proudly dubbed him. His companion was GilbertBarbeck, son of a rich merchant. His home was in the south of England,but he had been travelling with Hugh, during an interlude in theirstudies. In those days regular vacations were unknown. Men might stayfor years at the University, hearing lectures all the time through; orthey might betake themselves elsewhere, and return again and resumetheir studies, without reproof. The collegiate system was as yetunknown, though its infancy dates from a period only a little later. Butthere was a Chancellor of the University (if such it could be called),and learned men from all lands had congregated there; lectures in Artsand also in the sciences were regularly given, and degrees could betaken by those who could satisfy the authorities that they had beenthrough the appointed courses of lectures, and were competent in theirturn to teach.
The religious houses had been the pioneers in this movement, but nowthere was a reaction in favour of more secular teaching. The monks hadsome ado to hold their own, and obtain as many privileges as wereaccorded to others; and friction was constantly arising.
Moreover the recent migration of friars to Oxford had struck anotherblow at the older monastic system. The personal sanctity of many ofthese men, their self-denying life, their powers of preaching, thestrictness with which they kept their vows, all served to produce a deepimpression upon the minds of those who had grown weary of the arroganceof the Priors and Abbots.
The Grey Friars in particular, followers of St. Francis, wereuniversally beloved and esteemed. They went about barefoot; they wouldscarce receive alms in money; their buildings were of the poorest androughest, and were situated in the lowest parts of the town. They busiedthemselves amongst the sick and destitute; they lived lives ofself-denial and toil. The favour of princes had not corrupted them, andthe highest powers of the land spoke well of them.
Hugh told all this to his comrades as they walked through the darkeningforest. He was plainly a youth of good parts and gentle blood, and heseemed taken by Leofric's refined appearance and thoughtful face.
"I would not go to Osney, or live in the Domus Dei there," he said."Thou hast saved me the loss of all my wealth; it would go hard if thouwouldst not accept the loan of a few gold pieces, enough to establishthyself in some modest lodging in the town, or even in one of the emptyniches upon the walls, where clerks have made shift to dwell ere now.Out beyond the walls, shut up on the island of Osney, away from all thebustle and roistering and tumult of the town, it scarce seems life atall; and methinks the monks will get hold of thee, and win thee to beone of themselves. Better, far better, be one of us in the town. Thenwilt thou see all that is to be seen, and learn far more, too, than thouwilt in the schools of the monks."
Leofric listened eagerly to this advice.
"Is Osney then without the walls?"
"Ay verily, on one of the many islands that the river makes in itswindings. Oxford itself is little more than an island, for that matter,since the city ditch has been dug on the north side of it. But withinthe city there is life and stir and stress, and all the Halls where thestudents lodge are there, and the lodgings amongst the townsfolks whichsome prefer. Come and belong to us, not to the monks. So wilt thoulearn the more, and enjoy life as thou couldst not do cooped up on yondamp island in the Domus Dei?"
"I would fain do so," answered Leofric readily. "I have no desire for amonkish life. I would see what life is like without the cloister wall.But I have little money; I love not debts--"
"Tush! be not over scrupulous. Thou hast done me one good turn; I claimright to do thee another. Now no more of that. Let us put our best footforward; for it will be dark ere we reach our destination. Perchance wemay yet have to camp once more in the woods; for if the city gates belocked, we may have some trouble in getting admitted. The townsmen,albeit they live and thrive by them, love not the clerks. They will dous a bad turn an they can; yet methinks we are even with them, take onething with another!"
Hugh showed his teeth in a flashing smile, and Gilbert laughed aloud.Then the party strode on through the darkness, till they paused bycommon consent to light a fire and camp for the night in company--itbeing plain by this time that they could not enter Oxford that night.
A Clerk of Oxford, and His Adventures in the Barons' War Page 2