CHAPTER XIV
THE GREAT EARL
"My father is coming! my father is coming! the watchman has sighted his approach! Come and see him arrive with his train! it will be a right goodly sight, methinks."
So spoke the Demoiselle, rushing in hot haste into a great hall, which might perhaps be termed the library of the Castle, where certain books and manuscripts were stored in carved oaken presses against the wall, and where Leofric spent a portion of each day in transcribing for the little Eleanora the breviary which she was so eager to possess.
The Countess, at a hint from her son, had offered this task to the young scholar, and Leofric had gratefully undertaken it. The Demoiselle took keen interest in the work, and had already established very friendly relations with her brothers friend. A child at heart, despite her graceful and self-possessed manners and queenly little ways, she delighted in listening to stories of Oxford student life, and in watching the skilful pen and brush of the young bachelor as he copied the text or the illuminations from the scrolls in the library. Little Eleanora was greatly delighted at being able to choose her favourite designs for reproduction in her own breviary, and she danced in and out the library like a veritable sprite, directing and admiring, chattering freely to the scribe as she grew intimate with him, and letting him into a great deal of the family history of the De Montforts during the years of Amalric's absence.
Amalric himself was often present, and then brother and sister would converse freely and eagerly together. Leofric was treated as a friend and equal by both, and greatly enjoyed this experience of life in a nobleman's castle. It was like stepping forth into a new world or learning a new language.
The arrival of the Earl of Leicester had been for some time expected. His wife knew that he was in England upon a flying visit for political reasons, and daily was he looked for at Kenilworth; but so far no definite tidings of his movements had reached her, and the household lived in a state of expectancy and impatience.
It was no wonder that, when the Demoiselle rushed into the library with this piece of intelligence on her lips, Amalric and Leofric should start at once to their feet, and hasten with all speed to the great courtyard, where already the men-at-arms and the retainers were mustering.
It was a beautiful and picturesque sight. The Countess, with her little daughter and her handsome son beside her, stood at the top of the great flight of steps which led into the banqueting-hall, opposite the great gateway. All round the spacious courtyard were grouped the armed retainers and servants of the household. The sentinels and men-at-arms mounted the battlements, or drew up in martial array about the gateway, and the herald rode forth to meet and greet his master and bring him in in triumph.
The sense of expectancy deepened as the minutes passed by; then a great shout was raised as the trampling of horses' feet was heard within the outer courtyard. The next minute the great Earl, bare-headed, as he responded to the enthusiastic greetings showered upon him, rode through the gateway and across the court; and a cry went up that seemed wellnigh to shake the walls, as Kenilworth welcomed back its long-absent lord.
The eagle face of the Earl had grown thinner and browner since Leofric had seen it last. There were lines there which had been traced rather by anxiety and sorrow than by the hand of time. But the light in the eyes was unquenched, and the carriage of the haughty head betrayed the undaunted and resolute spirit of this leader of men.
His glance softened at the sight of his wife and daughter, and with a quick and skilful turn of the reins he drew up his charger at the foot of the steps, and leaped lightly to the ground. The next minute he had embraced his wife before the eyes of the assembled crowd, who were making the welkin ring with their plaudits; and little Eleanora was clinging to his hand, half shy, yet intensely eager for the notice of her sire, of whom she had seen but little, and that only on brief visits, paid as occasion served, and he could be spared to enjoy the pleasures of home life.
Leofric's eyes wandered over the goodly company filing into the courtyard after its lord. Immediately behind their father rode Henry and Simon, his eldest sons, now knights, and youths of handsome person, albeit lacking their father's nobility of aspect and charm of manner. Behind these again rode Guy, the third son, and side by side with him was a young man of noble aspect, very richly dressed, and plainly of no small importance in the eyes of the great De Montfort himself; for even before his own sons had had time to embrace their mother, he beckoned up this youth to the top of the steps, and presented him with much ceremony to his wife.
Leofric noted that quite a number of the men who followed wore the badge and the livery of this person. For a moment it crossed his mind that it might be one of the King's sons; but upon putting the question to one who stood by, he was answered in the negative.
"Nay, it is not the Prince. The Prince is a kinglier youth than that. That is Gilbert, the young Duke of Gloucester, and a right royal welcome will be accorded him at Kenilworth; for if he had followed his father's footsteps, and taken the side of the King, great hurt and loss to our party must have ensued. We cannot afford to lose the support of Gloucester."
This enlightened Leofric considerably as to the situation, and he added his voice to those raised in lusty cheering for the young Earl Gilbert. He had heard much about the father of this young man, recently deceased, and how, after joining in the cause which the Barons had at heart, he had quarrelled again and again with the Earl of Leicester, and had finally gone over to the King's side. Up to the present moment it had been feared that this young son, a youth of nineteen, now Earl in his father's stead, might follow that father's example and join the King's party; but his appearance at Kenilworth to-day, in company with De Montfort and his sons, showed plainly that he had thrown over the old Earl's policy, and had cast in his lot with the Barons: so the hearts of all were made glad, and cheer upon cheer rent the air as Leicester presented his youthful compeer to his loyal retainers here.
Preparations were instantly set on foot for a banquet of more than ordinary splendour. The Countess had been prepared for some such emergency as this, and the vast kitchens of the Castle could be depended upon for an ample supply of those substantial dainties under which the tables of our forefathers were wont to groan. The waters of the moat supplied fresh-water fish and wild fowl in abundance. Kids and goats and calves, oxen and sheep and swine, had only to be fetched in from the stores in the Castle. Venison from the forests around, as well as small game of all sorts, was supplied by the huntsmen; and in the household roll of the Countess are to be found abundant entries concerning spices, saffron, rice, figs, ginger, cinnamon, and raisins, showing that the variety afforded in those days was considerable.
But Leofric still stood watching the entry of the gay company which came with the Earl in martial array. It seemed as though there was no end to the following of knights and esquires who attended these two great nobles. They filed in one after another in endless array, till the youth wondered how even the walls of Kenilworth could accommodate them all.
Suddenly he gave a great start of surprise, and pressed a few steps forward. A small group had just come into the courtyard, seemingly in the rear of the followers of the Earls, and Leofric recognized the face and form of Sir Humphrey de Kynaston, Constable of Oxford Castle; whilst riding at his side, upon a pretty little barb, was fair Mistress Alys, his daughter, now grown to be a most beauteous maiden, the light of her father's eyes; and these two were accompanied by four stout serving-men, who wore the livery of their master.
What could Sir Humphrey be doing here? asked Leofric of himself in no small wonder; and pushing a way through the moving crowd of horsemen, who were filing off towards the stables and quarters allotted to them, he made his way to this little group just within the great gateway, and doffed his cap respectfully before them.
A little cry of delight from Alys told him he was recognized.
"Father, it is Leofric – our good Leofric!" she cried. "I remember now that Amalric was to bring him to Kenilworth. Now this is a good hap indeed; for we feel like fish taken from the water in this strange company. – Prithee, good youth, be our friend and counsellor, for methinks our noble host has forgotten that he has made us his guests for the nonce."
A few words from Sir Humphrey explained what had happened. He had been taking his daughter on a little riding expedition through the country, some business of his own having obliged him to quit Oxford for the space of a few weeks. They were journeying back, when they had fallen in with the Earl of Leicester, who had cordially invited them to be his guests for a few days. Then he had only had a small company with him; but that very day he had been joined by the Earl of Gloucester and his following, and so many knights and gentlemen had added themselves to his train upon his approach to Kenilworth, that he and his daughter had betaken themselves to the rear, and were disposed to think themselves forgotten; so that the sight of a familiar face amid all that strange throng was hailed with pleasure and relief.
But the Earl had a better memory than Sir Humphrey had supposed, and at this moment Amalric came hastening up to give a hearty welcome to the Kynastons, and to escort them to his mother's apartments, where Alys was to be lodged during her stay. She was eagerly received by the Demoiselle, who was always delighted to have a girl friend to stay with her; and before an hour had passed away the two maidens were fast friends, and little Eleanora had promised Alys to take her into the gallery overlooking the banqueting-hall, to see the fine company sit at table, and hear the address which her father was certain to give them.
"And Leofric shall come with us," said Eleanora, with one of her imperious little gestures; "Amalric cannot. He must sit at table as one of my father's sons. But Leofric can stay with us, and I trow he will like it better than sitting for hours stuffing himself with all those strange dishes that the cooks send up at feast-times. I will send and tell him that we desire his attendance. Thou dost know him – he is thy brother's friend; I have heard tell of thee from him. He is my brother's friend likewise, and I trow he is a very goodly youth, and a good one too. I care not if his birth be humble; we might have been born peasants ourselves!" and the niece of the King tossed her dainty head, ailing the democratic fancies of youth with a petulant grace characteristic of her varying moods.
"My father loves the people, and fights for their rights," she added more seriously, after a moment's pause. "He loves the King, and would well like to be his faithful vassal; but if he does wrong, my father withstands him. Sometimes he says it may cost him his life one day; but he never shrinks back from what is his duty."
Leofric obeyed the behest of the Demoiselle with alacrity.
There was, in addition to the minstrel's gallery overlooking the great hall, a smaller private gallery, leading from the quarters occupied by the Earl and Countess and their personal guests. Sometimes when the Earl entertained a company of nobles, the Countess sat here and looked on without taking part in the feasting; but to-day she would sit at table with her lord, and he would fain have had his daughter too, had not Eleanora pleaded the weariness she always felt at these lengthy functions, and obtained grace for herself and Alys to have their own supper privately served, and to look on as spectators only at the banquet.
It was in truth a goodly sight. The great hall was filled from end to end with nobles, knights, and squires of varying degree, who occupied tables arranged according to their rank, and made a proud and gay display with their costly dresses and flashing jewels. The Earls of Leicester and Gloucester, with the Countess between them, occupied the places of honour at the highest table raised on a daïs, and Leofric looked with admiration upon the noble face and grand figure of the great De Montfort. Without doubt his was the kingliest figure of all those present to-day; and his voice when he spoke was clear and sonorous, and might be heard from end to end of the hall.
The tables shone with massive silver plate; serving-men hurried to and fro, bearing huge silver dishes containing viands of every description. Huge barons of beef were borne in between two stalwart attendants; boars' heads with gleaming white tusks, and peacocks with spreading tails, formed dishes more ornamental than edible, though some favoured them, and laughing plucked out the peacocks' plumes and stuck them in their belts. Huge pasties, both savoury and sweet, found ready custom; and as for the hogsheads of beer and wine that must have been consumed, the household roll speaks eloquently of the capacity of our ancestors in the matter of strong drink. The watchers in the gallery laughed merrily at the sight, and wondered how long the stores of Kenilworth would stand the strain.
Towards the end of the banquet the Earl of Leicester rose to his feet, flagon in hand, and in clear loud tones, which dominated the clamour of voices around him, gave the toast, —
"His Majesty the King!"
In a moment the whole company was on its feet, and the loyal toast was drunk with acclamation.
When the hubbub had subsided, the Earl motioned to his guests to be seated, and himself remaining standing, made a long and eloquent speech.
He spoke of his own affection for the King – his desire for the peace and welfare of the realm – his hatred of bloodshed and confusion. Men had said of him, he exclaimed, with a flash in his eagle eyes, that he desired himself to be monarch of the realm, and the King to be a mere tool in his hands. That charge he utterly and fiercely denied. He was the loyal servant of the King, so long as his Majesty would abide by his plighted word, and would regard the liberties of his subjects and the terms of the Great Charter. The Provisions of Oxford were in themselves nothing new; they were but the means by which the Great Charter could be upheld. The King was not the only person in the realm who had rights to be cherished and guarded. The liberties of all classes must be considered; and if a monarch, through weakness or lack of judgment, surrounded himself with false and scheming men, who persuaded him to acts of tyranny and rapacity, it then behoved his loyal subjects, who wished to do him true service, to remove from his side these false sycophants, and to furnish him instead with true and able counsellors, who could advise him for his own good and for the good of the realm.
This was in effect what the Barons' party (as it had come to be called) were doing. They would not stand by passive and idle whilst England's wealth and England's honour were being handed over to foreign powers, whilst the country was being bled to death to fill the papal coffers, and every lucrative place, as it fell vacant, was heaped upon some foreign adventurer, whose handsome face had attracted the King's admiration, or whose relationship to the Queen gave him a supposed claim upon his royal kinsman.
The Prince knew all this as well as any man in the kingdom. He had remonstrated with his feeble father times without number. He had sworn to the Provisions of Oxford, and had refused to cancel his oath even when the King repudiated his own, and had bribed the Roman Pontiff to grant him absolution therefrom. The Prince was the true friend to his country, and when he should sit upon the throne all would be well. Meantime the most true and loyal servants of the King were those who sought the true welfare of the realm, and would withhold him from spoliation at the hands of foreign hirelings.
Then holding his head very high, De Montfort spoke of the taunt sometimes levelled at himself of being a foreigner. He admitted freely his foreign birth, and pointed out how he had been the first to deliver up his castles of Kenilworth and Odiham after the Provisions of Oxford had been agreed upon. He had even retired altogether to Gascony after a stormy quarrel with the Earl of Gloucester; and were it for the good of the realm, whose welfare he had so deeply at heart, he would return thither willingly, and never again set foot on these shores. But over and over again he had discovered that he was necessary to the welfare of the party. At this moment he had been summoned across the seas to help in their deliberations. No one had the true welfare of the English nation more at heart than he; and alien though he might be by birth, he loved the land of his adoption with a changeless and passionate love, and would live for her or die for her whichever might be for her good. He had put his hand to the plough; he had pledged his honour and his reputation to save her from papal thraldom and the spoliation of self-seeking men; she should have her Great Charter, for which men had bled and died before, or he himself would leave his dead body upon a blood-stained battlefield!
Roars of applause followed this masterly speech, spoken with all that charm of manner and lofty dignity of which De Montfort was master. Not one word did the great Earl speak of the personal wrongs inflicted upon him by the capricious monarch. Every one present knew how greatly he had suffered from the injustice of Henry – how he had spent money like water in his service in Gascony, only to be reviled and abused upon his return by a master who gave greedy and credulous heed to every word spoken against one whom he ofttimes feared and hated.
True, there were moments when the old affection would break forth, when the love for his sister was in the ascendant, and a temporary peace was patched up. But far more often was the Earl the butt for the King's injustice and extortion, and the troubles over the payment of the Countess's dowry added to the chronic friction between them.
But of this the Earl made no mention. He spoke always of the King in terms of loyal affection, only deploring and denouncing a state of things which made him the prey of foreign extortion, and the tool of those who would have him grind his people to the very dust to supply their endless demands. From this condition of affairs the kingdom must be rescued at all cost; and even if force alone would do it, that last and fearful remedy would be better than the curse of slavery and foreign tyranny.
His hearers were with him to a man. Cheer after cheer went up, making the great rafters of the hall ring again. Even the youthful Demoiselle clapped her hands and joined her voice with that of others, and Alys's fair face flushed and paled with varying emotions as she listened; and she turned impulsively upon Leofric and asked, —
"Oh, surely it will never come to that! The King will not suffer himself to be so led astray!"
"The King is a puppet in the hands of his Queen and her relations!" cried the Demoiselle, with the assurance of extreme youth. "I have been to Court; I have seen it all. And there are all the De Lusignans, his half-brothers – they are more to him than his true kindred. He has them ever about him – them and the Queen's relations, who are legion. They stuff his head with all sorts of falsehood. They foster his pride and folly, and they prey upon him like vultures. Only when my father and his friends can get speech of him and take him away from these harpies does he ever behave himself as a monarch should. As soon as he makes his way back to them, they make of him their tool and their slave. And then he seeks to sink England into slavery like his own!"
It was amusing to hear the child speaking thus, with sparkling eyes and a mien oddly like that of her noble father. She had all the spirit of her sire and her royal mother, and her companions regarded her with admiration.
"If his Majesty the King had but half the spirit of my lady mother," cried the child once more, "all this trouble would speedily be at an end. Methinks Providence made a blunder in fashioning him the man and her the woman. Had it been the other way, things in this realm would be vastly different now."
The stir within the hall had drowned the sound of another kind of tumult without; but had the revellers been less excited by the great Earl's speech and their own enthusiastic reception of it, they might have been aware of some unwonted stir going on in the courtyard. The stone pavement had been ringing to the clang of horses' hoofs; voices had been raised in eager challenge and greeting.
At this moment a servant quickly entered the banqueting-hall, and made his way up to the Earl, to whom he spoke in a rapid undertone. Leicester rose instantly and spoke to his wife, who also rose to her feet, a look of surprise upon her face, though none of displeasure.
"What can have chanced?" questioned the Demoiselle eagerly; "it is no trifle that would cause my father to rise and stride from the hall at such a moment as this. And see! all at the high table have risen, and are looking towards the door; and now the whole company is afoot. Some strange thing is about to happen; what can it be?"
They were not kept long in suspense. The great doors at the bottom of the hall were flung wide open. A trumpet note rang through the building, till the rafters themselves echoed to it; and it was answered by the shout from hundreds of voices as the company saw whose was the stately figure that the Earl had gone forward to meet.
The Demoiselle suddenly clapped her hands, and waved her scarf in token of joyous greeting.
"It is my noble cousin, my well-loved cousin!" she cried, in tones of childish rapture; "it is Prince Edward himself!"