A Stout English Bowman: being a story of chivalry in the days of Henry III, etc

Front matter

A STOUT ENGLISH BOWMAN •SpS* By EDGAR PICKERING. Crown 8vo. Cloth elegant. Illustrated. 3s. 6d. each. Silas Verney. A Tale of the Time of Charles II. " A pleasantly-written book for boys. The hero'B adventureB amongst the Dutchmen are thoroughly amusing. '—Athenæum. An Old Time Yarn. Divers desperate mischances which befell Anthony Ingram and his shipmates in the West Indies and Mexico with Hawkins and Drake. "An excellent story of adventure: especially good is the description of Mexico, and of the dungeons of the Inquisition. . . . The book is thoroughly to be recommended."— Guardian. In Press-Gang Days. " Told with spirit, and one adventure follows another too Quickly to leave any dull spaces. We can confidently recommend it aa a welcome present." —Journal of Education. " A rollicking tale of the sea, Bure to be popular with boys."— Athenæum.

Two Gallant Rebels A Story of the Great Struggle of La Vendee. *' There ie something very attractive about Mr. Pickering's style. . . . Boys will relish the relation of those dreadful and moving events, which, indeed, will never lose their fascination for readers of all ages." — The Spectator. London: BLACKIE & SON, Limited, BO Old Bailey, B.C. " IT WAS THE HANGMAN'S CART CARRYING A FULLY- ACCOUTRED KNIGHT." A STOUT ENGLISH BOWMAN BEING A STORY OF CHIVALRY IN THE DAYS OF HENRY III. BY EDGAR PICKERING Author of " An Old-time Yarn", " Silas Verney ", Gallant Rebels", 4c. WITH SIX ILLUSTRATIONS BY WALTER S. STACBY LONDON BLACKIE & SON, Limited, 50 OLD BAILEY, E.C. GLASGOW AND DUBLIN CONTENTS. Chap. Page I. Sie Bevis lb Blonde, 9 II. Evil Tidings 21 III. The Attack on the Manor-house, 32 IV. A Gallant Leap, 41 V. The Inn in the Wood, 50 VI.

The Bobbers, 61 VII. Jodah of Sarcm, 70 VIII. To Southampton, 79 IX. The Coming Tournament, 86 X. In the Lists, 95 XI. The Quarrel 103 XII. I leave England, 115 XIII. An Adventure in Bordeaux, 123 XIV. My First Battle, 135 XV. A Prisoner, 145 XVI. The Castle Dungeon 153 XVII. The Viscompte's Vow, 161 XVIII. The New Danger VI CONTENTS. CHAP. Page XIX. A Great Disappointment, 182 XX. In Orleans, 189 XXI. The Duel 201 XXII. The Street Fight, 210 XXIII. A Bun for Life, 218 XXIV. In Bordeaux Again, 228 XXV. We Sail for England, 233 XXVI. Mt Petition to the King 241 XXVII. Wurth, 253 XXVIII. A Challenge, . 265 XXIX. To The Death, ILLUSTRATIONS. Page " It was the hangman's oart carrying a fully-accoutred knight," Frontispiece, 15 "Holy Abraham 1 if it were not for the cost of thy carcass, lazy ass, i would slay theb 1 " 51 "Wurth, the cross-bowman, looked straightly at me when he said this," 117 "The porter clung to him, screeching for help, and foaming at the mouth," 167 ' ' My sword flashed into the side of the wolf, and thus we were rid of him," 225 "The kino listened, not moving in his position of attention, nor lifting his gaze,"

Chapter I. Sir Bevis Le Blonde

jpp^jlpHE Priory of Saint Osimund, where my cousin K if___l J°nn Barbour was being tutored, lies half B^=_bjB| a dozen miles or more from the Manor-house of Aldenburgh, which was my home, and had been his until my father resolved to make a learned clerk of him, to which end my cousin was sent to be taught by the monks to read and write. John Barbour was younger than I by a year, being just seventeen upon the day when I, Harold Godwith, rode across the downs that lie betwixt Saint Osimund's and Aldenburgh, with a present for my cousin in my hand, and a message for the prior in my mind from my father, regarding a matter of tithe which the prior claimed — unjustly, 'twas said. Truth to tell, I pitied my cousin when I thought of his condition, for it was none of the happiest to be kept little better than a prisoner, learning the use of nothing weightier in his hand than a pen; yet my father acted for the best, and wisely, no doubt, in sending him to the monks, seeing that John was with out money or parents.

He had lived with us at the manor-house until five months before this time, and I knew very well that my cousin chafed against the plan which my father had decided upon; for John was a sturdy lad already, more fitted for fighting than learning, and a dozen times had he said so to me. I was thinking of this when Saint Osimund's came into view, nestled down by the side of the river Itchen, which narrows at this point, the priory standing out white upon the pleasant green fields and showing softly against the amber sky. The air was so clear that I could see Friar Cuthbert seated by the buttery hatch in the sun, and upon coming to the ford it was plain that he was sleeping. He had cast off his sandals and lay back against the wall, with his fat hands resting the one on the other; and a happy smile was on his broad face.

He opened his eyes at the splashing of my horse's feet through the water, to give me a look of welcome. "Pax vobiscum, my son," he said, twirling his thumbs the while and speaking sleepily, without moving from his comfortable posture. "Verily the sun shines so lustily that I have fallen asleep. You have had a hot ride, doubtless, from Aldenburgh." "I had a message to think over, holy father," I answered, "so that the sun was forgotten; and, besides, it is my cousin's birthday." "Ah!" replied Friar Cuthbert, "John Barbour's, of a truth. 'Twas an evil day when he came to be taught here, for whereas Saint Osimund's was for merly as peaceful as one could wish, now it is the con trary. Yet John is a well-meaning lad and obedient. I find no fault with him, mark you, but Brother Anselm and Brother Sigisbert, to say nothing of the others, complain that their quiet is ofttimes disturbed, and in that they say rightly."

I was not greatly surprised to hear this, knowing my cousin's ways and the merry times he and I had spent together in the manor-house, but I asked Father Cuthbert in what manner John had behaved since coming to Saint Osimund's, and there was a twinkle in his eyes as he told me. " John Barbour hath many manners," he said, " so that at one moment it might be said he matched the prior for seriousness, but the next moment he seems only suited to be made a jester of. As last week, for example, when the priory from roof -tree to cellar was in a state of turmoil through his wild antics." " Tell me," I answered quickly, " what was it that John did, holy father?" " Nothing to call for punishment," replied he, " and for the matter of that, nothing that I myself should complain about, but Brother Sigisbert was like to have had a fever brought on by anger.

It was in this wise. Brother Sigisbert had incurred a penance for some trifling thing, and the hair-shirt was nowhere to be found. We have but one in the priory — thank the saints, — and it was missing. High and low went Brother Sigisbert, making a fine pother, looking for his hair-shirt, he having to do penance in it, as I say, until every one of us was wearied out with his inquiries; and then Brother Clement, good soul, joined in the search, together with Brother Anselm and three or four more. I went fishing to escape the riot, and coming back chanced on your cousin, who had the prior's favourite hawk on his wrist, — and judge you what kind of manners that proved. Thereupon I questioned him touching the hair-shirt." The friar's head went down into his cowl and his brawny shoulders heaved upward, whilst his twinkling eyes closed with the laughter in them, as he spoke.

His stout body was shaking too, and a husky sound came from his lips. " There is a mighty to-do, I told him," the friar went on, "the priory hair-shirt being mislaid. Dost know aught of it?" '"Hair-shirt, forsooth!' replied your cousin lightly- Where should it be but on a hedge - stake in the garden, stuffed into the shape of a friar, to frighten the birds away! I found it lying covered with dust, and put it to a good use,' said he; and maybe, Son Godwith, he had done no great wrong after all." Friar Cuthbert burst into a laugh as he said this, and got up from his seat lazily when I asked whether I could see my cousin. "See him in good troth you can," answered the friar. "Come this way, my son." And we went to gether round the corner of the priory wall to where a little window opened on the garden, and I heard a voice coming from the window.

"Whoever saw letters fashioned thus?" complained the voice, "or a parchment so blurred and blotted? Will you never learn to write?" "That is Brother Sigisbert," chuckled my companion. " He is a pious creature, but fretful." " I do my best," came the answer — and I recognized John's voice, — " but a plague seizes the ink and pen, good father, when I handle them. If perchance — " "Avaunt with your perchances!" cried Brother Sigisbert. " It is plain you were never born to be a scribe, Son Barbour, nor for anything so useful by half." "Alack!" answered my cousin dolefully; and with this I stood a-tiptoe, peeping into the scriptorium, as Friar Cuthbert had told me the room was called. It was a little place set round with shelves and cupboards, a writing-desk being in the middle of the room, whereat sat my cousin, with Brother Sigisbert, a tall thin man of forbidding mien, stooping over him.

On a table were parchments, a pair of shears, a large knife, and a box full of curious things whereof I knew not the names nor uses; and open on a stand was a great book, the pages bright with coloured pictures here and there, the writing going between these. John was copying from this book, I suppose, but as I knew neither how to read nor write, I could not be certain. My pity for him grew however, in thinking of his dismal condition, and how great a difference was be tween his present life and mine. For I was being trained for my squireship, and could hold a lance, sit a horse, wield a sword, and the like, fairly well for my age, so old Jenkyn said. I knew the duties of a squire and somewhat of knightly arts, meaning to win my spurs so soon as my age permitted me; whilst poor John Barbour was fated for nothing better than being made a penman of, with a scowling monk for his master.

"Can I speak with my cousin now?" I asked. To which Friar Cuthbert replied that it was risking too great a danger to disturb Brother Sigisbert and his pupil, but that in half an hour, maybe, John and I could see each other. So, having delivered my father's message to the sub-prior, who paid but in different heed to it I remember, I went into the garden to while away the time until John should be set at liberty. From Saint Osimund's the land rises in the direction of Winchester, which is the nearest town to the priory, thick woods covering the country between ; and I doubt whether a more pleasant view could have been seen in England than I beheld that sunny afternoon, or one more still and lonely. But as I looked there came from the distance the sound of creaking wheels and the jingle of horse-bells; and then I saw, coming from out the trees along the strip of white road, a sight such as I had never seen before.

It was the hangman's cart, carrying a fully-accoutred knight, who stood astride, holding his lance upright in its rest, and by the side of the horse marched Griffyn the hangman, whose ill-favoured face was known to all in that part of Hampshire. Now the hangman and his cart, and a criminal hanged or on the way to be hanged, was a common sight everywhere, and one that would not have concerned me, but a gallant knight, in full armour moreover, being carried in the execu tioner's cart like a deer-slayer or cut-purse to death, was surely never before seen. Furthermore, the knight with a solemn thrust of his lance, now and again urged Griffyn to quicken his pace, and never yet was a criminal desirous of getting to his journey's end; so that I wondered greatly at the meaning of the sight. Up the road came the creaking cart, and presently, when close to the priory, the knight stepped to the ground, marching sedately towards the garden; and I noted that he was armoured in plate-mail much dented and bruised, his shield being so disfigured that the device upon it was not to be distinguished plainly.

One of his pauldrons — these being the shoulder-plates — was bent away as though from a heavy blow, and other marks there were which showed the knight to have been engaged in doughty deeds and hard-fought combats. His visor was raised, and I perceived a brown, good-natured face, that wore a sedate look in keeping with his solemn approach to me, and methought, as he came near, that he was one of the biggest men I had ever met. The hangman had driven away when the knight descended from the cart, and so the strangely come visitor and I were alone together. "Welcome, Sir Knight!" I began, knowing the respect due to one of his station; and he answered my saluta tion in a voice that had a merry ring in it, for all his solemn bearing. " This is the Priory of Saint Osimund," he said, looking round him, " unless I have lost my way for the second time since quitting London.

And yonder is ( M 368 ) Friar Cuthbert, without doubt, of whom report says a good many things." The friar was at that moment coming from the buttery, and I watched him approach us, noticing the look of astonishment spread over his ruddy face. Then he grasped the gauntleted hand of the knight with a hearty welcome. " Why, now, this is a goodly meeting," cried the friar, "for 'tis two years, or longer, since we met. That was in Westminster, if you recollect ;" and his eyes filled with laughter. " And since then I have been northward, friar," replied the knight; "but being come into Hampshire I made shift to reach St. Osimund's, being on my road to Southampton, if it please you. I travelled here in strange fashion, as this lad will bear me witness." "'Twas not on foot, then," answered Cuthbert, eyeing him ; " and I see no horse."

" I came in the hangman's cart," replied the knight calmly; "for as chance would have it, my horse chose his own road whilst I slept beneath an oak in the forest, and with him went all my worldly gear saving this lance and shield. Whither the horse had gone I knew not, nor in what manner I myself should go, for the weight of my armour, to say naught of the unknown road, hindered me. I was considering my position when there came through the forest the --.'M868) b sound of ungreased wheels, and anon the sight of a cart. Whereupon I stood in the way and ordered the driver to halt. Said he, ' This is the hanging cart, and I am Griffyn the hangman, on my way to Abbotsferry by order of the reeve of that place.' At hearing which I spoke gently to him and got on to the cart. It needed a thrust of my lance to cause Griffyn to start, I confess, but we drove gaily afterwards."

" It was an unseemly mode of travelling, forsooth," replied the friar. " Yet there being none other," answered the knight, "I could but choose it." I stood watching him as he said all this, marking his face and manner, which were not of the ordinary; and then he turned to me, asking my name, which I told him, and also that my father was Sir William Godwith of Aldenburgh. "Mayhap he has heard of Sir Bevis le Blonde," replied the knight, "which is my name. But that matters little. What is of greater import is to crave refreshments, worthy friar, of your hospitality; and meanwhile rid me of this armour, if you know how, young sir." I speedily unlaced the curtain of his basnet, and when his head was uncovered Sir Bevis regarded me approvingly. " You would make an excellent squire," he said. "I am being trained to that office," I answered, feeling the flush come on my cheeks at his praise.

" And will become in due time a stalwart knight," he went on, "judging by your looks." Whereat I bowed, and then Friar Cuthbert led the way into the refectory, where presently was brought a plentiful repast, and for the time I forgot John Barbour in listening to the account of Sir Bevis le Blonde's adventures, which he related to us when his hunger was appeased. It was growing late before my cousin came into the refectory, looking grimly at the little knot of monks and friars who had gathered round the table to hear Sir Bevis's story, and I felt him pluck my sleeve. " I have a word for your ear, Harold Godwith," said my cousin, when we had withdrawn out of hearing of the others into a corner. " I had rather listen to Sir Bevis," I answered. " And I too, than talk of myself," he replied, " but this is my only chance of speaking.

The thought hath taken shape in my mind, Harold, that I am unsuited for a learned clerk such as my uncle would have me become, and that Brother Sigisbert is no better than a tormentor. Therefore, having considered the matter, I am resolved upon a plan, which is nothing less than — " I was not permitted to hear a word more, for at that instant the throng broke from the table, and Sir Bevis le Blonde came to me. "How far distant is Aldenburgh?" he asked. "Too far for walking, Sir Knight," I exclaimed; " but I have a stout horse here upon which I came to St. Osimund's, and by your leave you shall ride him to the manor-house, for my father would be glad to give you shelter." " It is my intent to visit him," answered Sir Bevis, "and I thank you for your courtesy; yet it needs a strong horse to bear the weight of me and my armour."

" Chrystal can carry more than both," I said, laughing, "and so have no fear. I doubt whether my father has not been a heavier burden, many a time, on Chrystal's back than you will prove." So this was settled, that Sir Bevis should ride and I walk at the bridle; and anon he and I started for my home, leaving John Barbour watching us depart with a rueful countenance, we having Friar Cuthbert in company a little part of the way.

Chapter II Evil Tidings

A LDENBURGH MANOR had been my grand ■£*- father's home, descending to his only son, my father, whose only son I was. Before my grandfather's time I knew but little of our family history, although Jenkyn, our old bailiff, might have told it me, doubtless, had I been curious on the subject. Old Jenkyn could tell stories of King Richard the Lion-hearted for the hour-long, if one had the patience to listen to him, and of Robin the Sherwood outlaw, together with a thousand other matters; and it was in King Richard's reign that my grandfather died, so that Jenkyn must have been versed in our records. But be that as it may, ever since I could remember we had enjoyed peaceable possession of the manor-house and the broad acres lying adjacent, my father passing as a wealthy man, holding his estate by " scutage "-1 Moreover, he had been a valiant warrior in days 1 A tenure held by giving knight's service in war. gone by, — so Jenkyn told me, who had been with his master, my father, in the wars in France after King John's quarrel with the pope, and he had fought upon the king's side when the barons revolted.

But my father was getting an old man now; time had robbed him of his strength, and whilst his heart was brave as ever, the power to show it as formerly was gone. King Henry the Third was on the throne of England and troubles were rife in the country, although Aldenburgh heard only the echoes of them; and this was the condition of affairs at the time in which I was being trained under Will Thiebaut in horsemanship, swordship, and other arts appertaining to my future condition. A rare man was Will Thiebaut, agile and adroit in feats of strength and every art of war, of a merry nature withal, yet quick to take offence and repay it. He was of Norman blood, but had been so long a time one of my father's trustiest retainers that Will Thiebaut's nature was as much an Englishman's as my own. He was about forty years of age, lusty and stout, and a better marksman there was not in Hamp shire, to say naught of his prowess with sword and lance.

The manor-house lay in a hollow and was built of stone, the great hall reaching to the roof. Beyond the hall were the guest-chambers, and opposite these the kitchen and stable, while between these buildings lay an open space big enough for horse exercise and the practice of arms. Fronting the hall was an arched gate way and a deep moat surrounded the house, which for further security had a battlemented turret at either corner of the entrance front, from whence, in case of need, an enemy could be shot at and repulsed, if so be an attack were ever made on the manor-house. Jenkyn had often told me the story of how such an attack was once made by the baron of Farnham, who claimed the estates of Aldenburgh and the manor house as a gift from King John to the baron's father. I knew the tale quite well, for it was not one to be ever forgotten.

How my father, who was in his prime in those days, suffered siege for a month, and then with his retainers had sallied out to engage his foe, winning a hard-fought fight, and driving Lord Farn ham off with the loss of half the baron's men. The battle had taken place in the meadow that lies on the edge of Aldenburgh Woods, and in that place are buried those who fell in the fray, whilst in the hall just above the arras hang the trophies of the fight. Helmets and arms, the lances of knights broken and splintered, the bills, maces, and battle-axes of the baron's soldiers, and, beyond all these for value, the sword of Lord Farnham itself, struck from his hand by my father, who would have slain him in single combat if a number of the baron's men had not gathered to save their master and cover his retreat.

The story went that Lord Farnham afterwards vowed on the shrine of Saint Wilfrid in Winchester to regain his sword, but happening to die in France his sword hung yet in the hall at Aldenburgh as a mark of his defeat. And although the next baron of Farn ham held to his claim on Aldenburgh, yet, having no deed of gift that might be shown in a court of law, it was an unrighteous claim, and we had not been molested again. This same baron was a cruel tyrant, dreaded by his poorer neighbours and held in small esteem by his fellow-barons, so the rumour went, but, for all that, a man of importance in the shire. I had never seen him, Farnham being a long journey from Aldenburgh, and my father would have none of him either by word or deed; whilst what I have told was as I heard it from Jenkyn, who shook his gray head whenever the baron of Farnham was spoken of.

Through the wood by the bridal-path went Sir Bevis le Blonde, I at Chrystal's side, walking and listening to the knight's talk, and the manner of his losing his horse in the forest, which he described in a way that made me laugh heartily, for Sir Bevis grieved little at his loss. There were always horses to be got, and harness too, he said, and the joust to be held at Southampton would provide him with more gear than he had lost. He was speaking thus when we came to the meadow in sight of Aldenburgh, and as it lay glittering in the rays of the setting sun, a tired man could have wished no pleasanter resting-place for the close of a day than the manor. We had reached the bridge spanning the moat, when I espied Tierce, the fool, sprawling at his ease in the thick grass, with his eyes turned skyward, but who, at the sound of Chrystal's hoofs, sat up and stared at us.

" Some folk are better within doors than abroad," said Tierce, turning his eyes upward again, but not without a glance at Sir Bevis, " and many a man rides a-horseback on a stolen steed. Answer me this riddle, gallant knight: Whither way flies a crow the quicker?" " Another time, worthy fool," replied Sir Bevis im patiently, " I will guess your riddle, but I am weary of my journey now, so rest you quiet in your grass bed." " Gramercy," replied Tierce, springing to his feet ; " but to tell truth my sleep is out. Maybe your ears are deafened, good knight, or so dull within your casque that you think we are alone." "Yet my eyes are clear enough to see you and Harold Godwith with me, if that is being alone," an swered Sir Bevis. "Hark!" and Tierce put up his finger, slanting his head aside, listening; "for there are the sounds of trampling over the fields, and the whisper of words, with the clink, clink of swords in the air.

Softly, softly!" and he was sprawling on the grass again, with his ear to the earth " Let us cross to the gateway," exclaimed Sir Bevis alighting from Chrystal, " fooling is out of place some what at this moment;" and I was leading the horse over the bridge, Sir Bevis going on first, when the jester caught my arm. "There are evil tidings come to Aldenburgh," he whispered hoarsely. " Ask old gray-head to tell you, for Jenkyn hath known them since the morning. Look, too, Harold Godwith, across the meadow, where the shadows are gathering under the oaks." I looked in the direction of his pointing finger, which was opposite to the way by which Sir Bevis le Blonde and I had come, a good mile away maybe, and saw on the verge of the wood there the glint of something shining, as when the sun rests a moment on the ripple of a stream; but more than this I could not discover, and the next moment I had broken away from Tierce's grasp, following the knight to the gate, where stood already Jenkyn and Will Thiebaut, who had been watching for my return, I think.

Jenkyn's face was very stern, I remember, as he gravely saluted our guest, leading him into the hall, whilst Thiebaut and I went to the stable by means of the little doorway that opened into it from the moatside. I noticed that Will was as solemn that evening as was Jenkyn. " I met with Sir Bevis le Blonde at the priory," I began whilst busy stalling Chrystal, Thiebaut watching me. "My father will be pleased at his visit, doubtless." " I have heard of this same knight," replied Thie baut, "who is accounted to be somewhat mad. A valiant man, though, and the more welcome therefore, for news has come to your father of some import from the baron of Farnham." "Are these the evil tidings Tierce spoke of?" I asked, pausing at my grooming. " Tierce says a good many things in jest," answered Thiebaut, "but if he hath said that, he is in truth speaking no jest.

Jenkyn knows the full message that came to Aldenburgh, and I have learnt enough of it to know that every man about us will be needed ere many days have passed." "Tell me what you have learnt," I cried, flinging the halter over Chrystal's head quickly, and coming close to Thiebaut. "Nay, it is for others to say more," he replied; "Jenkyn or Sir William, if they are so minded; but for me, my duty is to see that the gate is fast locked and guarded." I knew Thiebaut too well to expect more from him than this, but coupling it with what Tierce had said, my curiosity grew. So, having seen that Chrystal was eating her food, I went into the hall, finding my father and our guest seated together upon the dais in earnest talk, having Jenkyn with them, who stood behind my father's seat. Sir Bevis had laid aside his upper mail, showing the worn state of his tunic, which had lost its colour, and was threadbare almost to rags.