Ermengarde. A story of Romney Marsh in the thirteenth century

Front matter

ERMENGARDE. RYE WAS AT THIS TIME AN ISLAND. Page E RM ENGARDE. A STORY OF ROMNEY MARSH IN THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY. BY MRS. HADDEN PARKES, AUTHOR OF 'SUNSHINE FOR THE MORNING OF LIFE,' ETC. LONDON : ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C. 1893. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. RYE WAS AT THIS TIME AN ISLAND - - frontispiece STONE CLIFF FROM THE LEVELS NEAR WITTERS- HAM facing p. 27 THE HAMLET OF WYGHTERESHAM, WITH ITS WOODEN COTTAGES AND THATCHED ROOFS CLUSTERING ROUND THE GRAY CHURCH-TOWERfacing p. 29 RIDGES OF SAND BOUND TOGETHER BV THE INTER- TWINING ROOTS OF VARIOUS PLANTS AND GRASSES facing p. 137 THE HUT OF A FISHERMAN FORMED OUT OF THE WRECK OF A LARGE BOAT - - facing p. 1 38 BROOMHILL AT THE PRESENT DAY' - facing p. I49 THE LITTLE ISLAND TOWN OX ITS ROCKY CITADEL facing p. 196 CHURCH OF ST. MARY, RYE, SEEN THROUGH THE STRAND GATE, WINCHELSEA - - facing p. 24 ERMENGARDE

Chapter I

1 He, stepping down By zigzag paths and juts of pointed rock, Came on the shining levels of the lake.' Tennyson. AT the close of a fine day in the autumn of the year 1241 two travellers were wending their way through a forest of great density, which extended, for miles over the hills and valleys bordering our southern coast. The elder of the two was habited in a loose gray woollen garment, which reached to his ankles and was drawn in at the waist by a thick cord, from which depended a leathern pouch. His tonsured head and sandalled shoes proclaimed him a member of one of those ecclesiastical bodies which had lately made their appearance on our shores. He was of tall and commanding I Ermengarde 2 stature, with keen dark eyes, whose pupils dilated with every strong emotion. His brow was broad, but rugged ; his hair and beard were black, just streaked with gray ; and his countenance was calm and thoughtful.

His companion was a slim, blithe lad of about twelve years of age, whose eyes literally danced with exuberance of life and gaiety of health. He wore a. linen tunic, girt at the waist by a broad belt, in which was inserted a thick-bladed knife, with a handle of curious workmanship. A broad strap across his shoulders enabled him to carry a quiver full of sharply-pointed arrows, while in his left hand he held a crossbow. The travellers were reaching the verge of the forest on one side, as was evident by the less massive appearance of the foliage and the gleams of sunshine, which seemed to be reflected from some large expanse of water, of which ever and anon a glimpse was caught through the branches. The path seemed to be widening, and in a few moments a rapid descent brought them to an opening in the forest glades, from which they speedily emerged upon one of the most beautiful scenes possible to imagine.

Before them, spread ont at their feet, was a vast and calm lagoon, bordered by a long low ridge of hills, now purple in the light of the setting sun, which shone in a broad red stream of Ermengarde 3 light on the bosom of the tranquil tarn. It was closed in at the farthest southern extremity by a natural harbour of shingle and sand, extending into two long protecting arms, which crossed each other at the mouth of the estuary, for this lagoon was formed partly from a deep encroachment of the sea upon the coast, partly from the flow of that large tidal river then known by its ancient Roman name of the Limene. Innumerable islands studded its breast, from the little weedy mud bank just visible above the water to the more solid ground upon which man, ever daring in his warfare with the forces of Nature, had ventured to build first the mud hut or timber hovel, then the more massive masonry of castle, tower, or gateway.

The river Limene was not at this time confined within the narrow bounds of its modern representative, the Rother, but spread itself over the whole valley. Midway between the purple horizon, with its crimson setting of clouds, and the foreground of waters, with their varied opal hues, ridge after ridge of marshy morass or more cultivated soil appeared, the ' Innings of the Salts,' as they were termed, land which had been reclaimed by patient labour and science from the very jaws of the ocean. Still nearer to them, under the protection of the shining shingle banks, which lay like chased gold in the light of the setting sun, nestled each on its Ermengarde 4 island home the busy ports of Rye and Wynchelse, crowned by many a well-built edifice, and sur rounded by the miserable dwellings of the villains or serfs, which spread themselves for some dis tance beyond the walls, and were rendered har monious in form and colour by the effect of distance.

The dark forest of oak, beech, and fir, from which the travellers had emerged, and which was a portion of that vast forest of Dymsdale, of which not a vestige remains at the present day save those blackened trunks which the retreating waters of the lowest ebb tide sometimes bring to light, extended as far as the eye could reach.* A pair of cranes, which had been wading in the sedgy morass in search of food, were sailing calmly overhead towards the west. The young lad, who had been standing still for a moment as if struck by the solemn beauty of the scene, now took an arrow from his quiver, and, raising his bow, sent the flying shaft straight to the heart of one of the birds, whose white breast was instantly stained with its life blood. ' It is easier to destroy life than to save,' said the friar in a grave tone, ' and yet methinks 'tis more in accordance with Divine love to restore and to heal than to carry fire and sword into other lands.' * The forest of Dymsdale, according to Norden, quoted by Cooper in his ' History of Winchelsea,' lay 'round about' the old town.

Ermengarde 5 ' I know, father,' replied the boy, ' to what you refer. I wot well you have always misliked the notion that is in my mind to join the great army of the cross, under the foreign but saintly King, who is now departing for the Holy Land. You would rather that I should abide here, assisting you in your labours among the loathsome lepers and the fever-stricken people of our marshlands, than fight under King Louis's banner for the Holy Sepulchre. But, father, I cannot ! I can no more endure to remain here all my life engaged in such work as yours than yonder crane — that will soon join thousands of its like migrating to warmer shores — could endure to be left behind among the lower kind of marsh-birds that wade in search of food amidst the swamps ! Forgive me, father, I meant no disrespect to you ; indeed, I am all unworthy to undertake your work or follow your example.' ' Far be it from me, my son,' replied the friar, ' to keep you back from the glorious life for which you express a desire, but methinks there may be more of the pride and restlessness of youth in the choice than the sober judgment of the Christian, and, perchance, there may be more of self-denial in reclaiming the heathen at our doors than in carrying fire and sword into other lands.

But see, the twilight hour approaches, and we are yet some distance from our homes.' Ermengarde 6 ' First, father, let me get my bird, which lies onder among the rushes.' So saying, the impetuous youth flung himself into the shallow waters, through which he waded till he had reached the heronry. Securing his prize, he soon regained his companion's side, and they hastened in the direction of Wynchelse.* * Winchelsea was a town situated two miles from Rye. It derived its name, most probably, from the Saxon words ' Winchel,' corner, and ' Ea,' a watery-place. It was spelt 'Wynchelse' in 17 Richard II. Winchelsea and Rye were added to the Cinque Ports by William I.

Chapter II

' Was ever such a night? what horrors more? Things unbelieved one hour, so strange they are, The next hour stamps with credit. . . . What next ? I hate to think on't, 'Tis with fate.' Keats. NIGHT had now begun to reassume her sway. The shades which announced her approach were stealing gently over wooded heights, morass, and water, uniting all in one common neutral tint. The sound of rushing water blending with the whirr of the busy wheel of a large salt mill, which stood on the bank of a stream near its confluence with the sea, guided the travellers on their way to the shore. Here a strong two-oared boat, manned by able-bodied seamen, was in readiness for their use. The friar wrapped a cloak around his young friend, who seated himself in the bow of the boat, but he himself stood erect, with arms folded and eyes fixed upon the moving lights Ermengarde of the island town, towards which the boatmen were steering.

The current running between the two shores was strong and rapid, but the men were well accustomed to stem the dangerous tides and avoid the shoals of a perilous coast. The splash of the oar, the ripple of the water, and the rush of wind — which came in gusts along the channel — alone broke the silence of the evening. The boat soon reached the opposite shore, and glided in among rushes and low willow boughs on to a sedgy marge, from which rose a steep bank ; beyond this was an open sandy plain, on which clustered the hovels of mixed mud and timber of the serfs employed in the manufacture of salt, and often of an outcast leper, who dared not enter the gates of the town, but built his habitation just outside the walls, as if creeping under their shadow for protection. Within the town itself the streets were narrow and tortuous and dark, and the feet of the tra vellers slipped often into pools of muddy slush or trod unexpectedly on heaps of refuse and garbage, which had been flung out into the darkness, for our forefathers were not over-particular as regards sanitary matters, whence the visitations of plague and fever of which we read in the history of this and other towns.

The houses were all of wood, irregularly built, and the only light was that of oil-lamps burning over the shrines of the Virgin Ermengarde 9 or saints at the corners of the streets. Still the travellers hurried on, for they saw by the faint glimmer of the stars and the pale light of the rising moon the dark outline of the monastery on their right, and they were anxious to reach its shelter. They were now nearing the arsenal, and the harbour lights were coming into view. The tall masts of the galleys rose black against the gray sky, and a ruddy stream of light was thrown far out to sea from the flaming pitch-pot which sur mounted the wooden edifice called a lighthouse. A confused sound of many voices rested upon their ears mingled with the tramp of a multitude. Seafaring men in rough woollen jerseys were passing to and fro mingling with the rippiers of the harbour, bearing torches, and surrounding a band of merchant-men, who had evidently just come ashore.

Kegs of wine and bales of goods were lying all around, and from a murmur of broken conversation they gathered that one of the Cinque Port vessels had just come into the harbour, having borne part in one of those piratical enterprises which left a stain upon their name, and have to this day caused the hatchet to be held up to them as a sign of opprobrium when they enter some of our western ports. The truth was soon learned. There had been a fight at sea between the St. Thomas and a Ermengarde 10 French vessel from Bayonne. Peace had lately been proclaimed between the English and French, but the gallant sea-rovers of our southern ports, who were always inclined to exercise the right of free judgment, had not willingly given in their adhesion to this change, and continued in an unscrupulous manner to plunder the vessels of other places as they passed our coast, thus making themselves the terror of foreign mariners.

The St. Thomas had returned triumphant from a con flict of this kind. The Joie de la France had been run down and boarded, her halyards cut down, so that her sails had fallen upon her deck, and she was powerless in the hands of the enemy. The men who resisted were thrown overboard, but the women were left to a worse fate — starvation, or slavery and degradation on the shores of a foreign soil. From such a fate it seemed that a merciful Providence was about to spare a delicate-looking lady, who, with dishevelled hair and torn gar ments, was being rudely borne in the arms of a sailor, her head falling powerlessly over his shoulder. A tender little girl, in a pretty foreign dress of some soft silky material, whose long fair hair was hanging over her uncovered neck, was crying and wailing piteously as she endeavoured to cling to the skirts of her unconscious mother, which floated out in the night-breeze. 'By St. George!' cried one of the crew, 'why Ermengarde 11 burden us with that woman and screaming infant ?

Why not throw them to the fishes ?' ' She is as dead as that dog yonder that is floating in the harbour. Let's be rid of her ! Put the body out to sea in a boat. Fools that we were to encumber ourselves thus !' ' Nay, nay, my friends,' said the friar, stepping out of the shadow of an archway, where he had hastily retreated with the boy, ' let not your hands be steeped further in innocent blood. Perchance there is yet life in the heart of the woman. I will bear her to a shelter for the night, and take with me this terrified child.' In the dwelling-room of a small but new-built house adjoining the monastery gardens, which its gable front and windows overlooked, might be seen at the hour of midnight a singular group embracing various nationalities gathered round a dying woman, who had been laid upon a mattress on the rush-strewn floor.

First there was the rough but kindly sailor who had undertaken to carry her to a place of refuge, the representative of the British tar, who had volubly asserted to everyone within hearing that the poor French lady had been, with her child, picked up at sea from a boat that was wrecked. Then there was the priest or friar, whom we must introduce to our readers by the name of Father Celano, and the Ermengarde 12 young lad, the companion of his travels, Reignold de Normanville, the heir and descendant of a noble family that had settled in Kent since his forefathers had come over with the Conqueror. There was also the representative of the pure Saxon in the person of the old churl and his wife, who had been hastily summoned to attend, and who had kindled a fire and placed water by the side of the sufferer.

And, lastly, there was the fair child, who had fallen asleep, and, lying on the same couch as the mother, its auburn hair stray ing over her labouring breast, looked as if it were a sleeping cherub come from that land of rest to which the poor French lady was departing. The friar knelt on the rush-strewn floor ; the holy Viaticum was prepared, but the dying woman was alike unconscious of the presence and of the prayers of the strangers by whom she was surrounded. A profound silence reigned, broken only by the occasional sobs of the child, which continued even in slumber, and the low chant of the priest. Suddenly the poor lady opened her eyes, and fixing them earnestly on the face of the friar, who bent over her to listen to her last words, murmured these words : ' Je te confie — mon tresor — Etoile — par l'amour de notre Seigneur, Jesu Christ.' What more she said was not under stood, for the voice sank to an indistinct whisper, Ermengarde 13 the eyes closed, a faint smile passed over her countenance, removing all traces of former sorrow and anxiety, and with her cheek resting against the head of her sleeping child, her freed soul took wing to its eternal home.

They gently lifted up the little slumberer, and, undressing her, placed her in a bed prepared for her. In so doing they found around her neck, concealed from view by her clothing, a curiously fashioned locket, on which was engraved a shield and the motto ' Ad fidem fidelis.' It was of gold set about with pearls, and the workmanship was superior to that to be seen in England in those days. It opened with a spring, revealing a portrait of a beautiful lady resembling in features the departed. They found also a small packet in a leathern case, which had been sewn carefully on to the underclothing of the poor lady, and which came to view while disposing the body for burial. On opening it, it was found to contain some letters and documents written in French, of which Father Celano took possession.

The child grew up strong and supple of limb. She was known by the name of Etoile, and was distinguished from other children of her age by her pretty lisping broken English, her clear olive Ermengarde 14 complexion, and flashing dark eyes, and her in tense devotion to Father Celano, whose company she delighted in, and with whom she would chat freely with the most unabashed gaiety of de meanour.

Chapter III

' When all around from every side there came, As from the ground, the foes whose awful name Formed the first dread their lisping childhood knew And as their phantomed horror rose in view Some sank to earth, and some despairing eyed The coming bandits through the forest glide.' Marquis of Lorne : Guido and Lita. (_2 OME years have passed since the events just v^_3 recorded. Reignold is now a well-grown and active young man, more fond of the pursuits of the chase and of the field than of studying in the scriptorium of the Grey Friar. He has, however, never forgotten the adventure of the night when he journeyed to Wynchelse under the care of Father Celano, and he loves best of all the hours spent in company of his little friend Etoile, the protege of the good Franciscan. He had placed her under the protection of a worthy couple of the name of Loney, who lived in the neighbouring town of La Rye, distant two Ermengarde 16 miles from Wynchelse, deeming it better that she should be removed from the spot where rumours and gossip would doubtless be rife concerning her, and yet wishing for many reasons that the child thus bestowed upon him by Providence in so marked a manner should not be so far off that he should be unable to keep a watchful eye over her.

Elias Loney, to whom he entrusted her, was warden of a craft guild in Rye, a man of reputa tion and integrity. His wife, Mildretha, employed the child in domestic service as she grew old enough to be of use ; but treated her with kind ness, and made no distinction between her and her own children. If anything, she was treated with a little more indulgence, and was spared the cuffs and blows with which in those days it was thought necessary to train the young to habits of obedience. The warden was the possessor of land in Wal land Marsh, to the west of the great Rhee Wall. Thither the family would proceed by boat in the long summer days to assist in the cultivation of the rich fields of corn and mustard, which were the fruits of the fine alluvial soil redeemed from the sea, or to mend the fishermen's nets as they lay stretched out to dry on the shore.

There were good fish to be caught in the deep water, and conger-eels came up with the tide, and found Ermengarde 17 their way into the nets which were placed at intervals to entrap them. The salt-pans placed in long lines upon the banks for the purpose of evaporation were objects of great interest to the children, who loved to watch the process, and to stand before the great shallow vessels, admiring the sparkling deposit of the waves, or see the men emptying it into the coarse sacks prepared for conveying it to the town. On every holiday Reignold, who was employed a certain number of hours daily in study, under the charge of Father Celano, a friend of his father, found some ready excuse for seeking the company of the warden, which meant the warden's pretty foster-daughter. Etoile was now a slender girl of seventeen years of age.

She had an inquiring mind, and an eager thirst for knowledge. Her playmates could not understand her strange fancies and curious inquiries. Things which seemed obvious to their matter-of-fact minds offered insuperable difficulties to her understanding, and things altogether past their comprehension were to her imaginative mind realities in which she lived. She had a beautiful voice and a ready memory, so that under the instruction of Father Celano, who kept a watchful eye over her, she learned many of the hymns of St. Bernard, and parts of Ermengarde 18 the Passion-plays then performed at Easter and Whitsuntide in the towns of La Rye and Romenal. It was said that she would some day make a good representative of the Holy Mother, with her innocent face, and soft, shining hair flowing over her shoulders, as it escaped rebelliously from the coif under which Dame Mildretha thought it seemly to cover it.

She was standing one day, lost in thought, before the entrance of the north door of the church, gazing up with childlike admiration at the figures above — the Virgin bearing the infant Saviour on her left arm, and a palm-branch in the form of a cross in her right hand. Three pointed arches rose above the head of the figure, reaching to the top of the tower, whence a delicately-shaped spire arose, surmounted by a cross. On either side of this were representa tions of the sun and seven stars on the east, and the crescent moon and seven stars on the west. The girl's eyes followed the beautiful lines of tracery, and the lofty and elegant pinnacles which ornamented the angles of the spire till they rested on the cross above. Whether it recalled to her mind any recollection of her childhood — far-off visions of which floated indistinctly through her memory from time to time — or whether it was her keen sense of the beautiful which thus riveted her attention, certain it is that so lost was she in Ermengarde ■9 thought that the errand on which she had been sent was forgotten, and she started when a hand was placed on her shoulder, and the good tempered face of the warden looked down on her with a smile. ' Art admiring the figures, child ?' he said in quiringly. ' Canst read the inscription ?

" Ave Maria gratia plena Deus tecum benedicta tu in mulieribus." Thou must get thy friend the friar to translate that to thee. Ah ! methinks 'tis but yesterday that this fine building rose out of the ashes of the old wooden one, and yet I was a mere lad then. Look now at these solid stone walls ! Methinks they truly are proof against both fire and foe. Who knoweth but erelong our own poor dwelling-places may be built of solid stone, and then we shall not need the curfew-bell to bid us extinguish our lights !* But come, we must not tarry. Whither wendest thou ?' ' To the market.' ' Then will I take thee first with me, and thou shalt see the cogs and galleys in the harbour, for 'tis all alive to-day.' They passed through the churchyard close to the Ypres Tower, whose solid walls of masonry * This fine church, built at the close of the twelfth century, was almost entirely destroyed in 1448 by the French, and a great part reduced to ashes.

The curfew still exists. Ermengarde 20 had been erected as a defence or watch-tower against the invading foe, and, going through various streets, found themselves on the edge of a steep cliff some ioo feet above the sea, whose waves dashed against it with a sullen roar. The town of La Rye, as we have said, was an island-rock, exposed to the violence of the sea on all sides but one— the north — where a long stretch of marsh lay, partly reclaimed from the sea, partly covered by its highest tides. The busy little port was most favourably situated for fishing purposes, and the herring was the staple commodity and article of commerce. The ' rippiers of Rye,' with their long leggings of hide, and their fish baskets called 'rips' strapped over their shoulders, carried their fish to many of the inland towns and villages, and it found its way even to the London markets.

Etoile was deeply interested in the scene before her, for the harbour was full of vessels of all kinds — from the stately galley to the small fishing craft — and the sun was shining on the crested waves that dashed against the cliff. A steep flight of steps descended to the harbour. As they leaned over the iron bar which protected the low wall at the edge of the cliff, they saw a young man spring ing lightly up the steps. He wore a tunic, and a purple velvet cap was set jauntily on his head, adorned with an eagle's plume, which contrasted Ermengarde 21 with the tawny locks and dancing blue eyes appearing beneath. It was Reignold de Normanville. He grasped the warden's hand, and turned eagerly to his companion. ' Master Loney, my boat is below in the harbour. The day is fine, and the wind is still ; wilt entrust thy damsel to my care ?

Oft have I desired per mission to take her to the hamlet of Wyghteres ham.* Say what forbids that we go thither to-day?' ' Impetuous youth !' replied the warden, with a smile. ' The household duties and occupations forbid ; and what would Dame Mildretha say if I permitted Etoile, whom she has charged with sundry purchases for dinner, to stray away pleasuring, while she was left to her culinary operations without even the means wherewith to make a pudding or a pasty ?' ' Then to-morrow, father — to-morrow ?' ' Nay, nay, my lad — bide a bit ; and when the next meeting of the craft is over, and I can spare my son Cedric, he and thou shalt take an oar in my old boat : 'tis stronger than yon slight-cut one of thine.' ' Yea, in troth ; 'tis a tub — a hobble !' inter rupted Reignold. ' Prithee pardon me ; I meant no disrespect.' * So called till the fifteenth century, now Wittersham, in the Isle of Oxney.

Ermengarde 22 ' And thou shalt start betimes, for the distance is somewhat by water,' continued Elias Loney, unheeding the interruption ; ' but wherefore go to the Isle of Oxney ? Meseemeth that Romenal would be more gay.' Etoile, to whom he had turned, in reply ex plained that she had long wished to visit the little fishing hamlet of Wyghteresham, and especially to see the spot where the battle had been fought between the Saxons and the Danes, called to this day the Dead Men's Field. Reignold had long promised to tell her the story of Hastein the Dane, and they had agreed to take their food in a fraegel — basket of osier or rush — and have a rural feast on the shore. It was agreed at length that the following Tuesday should be devoted to the holiday expedition. Cedric was to be one of the party, and to be left at the Long Acres, the warden's land in the salt marshes, on the way home. ' Now, child, we must e'en hasten home, if we would escape a scolding, and perchance a beating to boot.

Hoot, toot ! 'tis a proud lass,' he con tinued, as Etoile tossed her head ; ' but she knoweth well my old dame is o'er-lenient to her peccadilloes.' The three companions hurried across the Fish Market, where the shrill tones of the vendors Ermengarde 23 almost deafened them, to the house of Elias Loney, in the Middle Street. The result of the above dialogue was the un wonted enjoyment of a long summer's day upon the water. To Etoile's dreamy and somewhat romantic disposition, there was ecstasy in the easy swing of the boat, the splash of the oar, the ripple of the water, the sighing of the breeze among the low pollards on the bank, and the varied notes of the birds, with each of which she was familiar from childhood. The two young men, although very dissimilar in size and appearance — Cedric being of short build, with light, colourless hair, cropped closely ; while Reignold was tall and thin, with clear-cut features and long wavy hair — were both strong and sinewy, with muscles well developed from constant use in various outdoor occupations.