A Clerk of Oxford, and His Adventures in the Barons' War

"Supper, supper, good folks," called the mistress from the head of the table, where she had seated herself before another smoking dish which she had been to fetch. "If the father and Tito are busy for the moment, we must not let the supper spoil. Doubtless they will join us when they smell the viands. – Come, young sir, and let us see if thou canst wield a knife as well as a pen, for I believe not in your starveling clerks. Good victuals make good scholars, as I always say."

The hostess was a cheerful soul, and her calling in life had given her easy, pleasant manners that won her good-will from all. She looked little enough like the mother of the crafty Tito, or even of these beautiful girls. Tito, in truth, was not her son; for Balzani had been married twice, and his first wife had been of his own nationality. Tito was several years older than the twin sisters, and no very great likeness existed between them. Yet the daughters looked far more Italian than English, although they spoke their mother's tongue with perfect fluency, and without any sort of accent. They were both very charming girls. Leofric could not on that occasion decide in the least which was the more charming, for he could not tell them apart. Sometimes he thought he was beginning to know them, but again found himself completely at fault. But he was delighted with the permission accorded to him of drawing their portraits, and the girls' eagerness over this matter amused and gratified him not a little.

Roger seemed in a very ill temper all the while, as Jack was not slow to notice. He sat silent and sullen at the board, nor did it soothe him to observe that nobody seemed to miss him or take note of his ill-humour. All were occupied with Hugh and his guests, chattering and laughing gaily. Nobody appeared to have a word or a look for him, unless it were the hostess, who pressed him sometimes to partake of one or another of the dishes on the table, but always returned to join the chatter of the young folks, which plainly interested her much more than the morose responses of Roger.

When Balzani and his son appeared, they were full of the news which was exciting the place. The innkeeper was pleased with the thought of all the fine company that this meeting would bring to the town. He did not profess to know or to care very much about the rights of the case; he was still too much the foreigner to enter keenly into English politics. But the local excitement he thoroughly appreciated, and when he got a chance he questioned Hugh closely about the great Earl of Leicester and his household and retinue, wondering whether so great a man would condescend to lodge in his house, and if so, what gain such a thing would bring to him.

When Jack and Leofric took their leave, promising another visit soon, Hugh walked with them part of the way, asking their opinion of his quarters and his friends.

"I'd have a care if I were thee," said Jack, with one of his shrewd glances; "for that braggart Roger de Horn is no friend of thine, and methinks Tito and he are fast friends. In this city it behoves men to walk warily if they have foes abroad. I would have a care if I were thee."

CHAPTER VI

A "MAD" PARLIAMENT

"'Twill be a mad Parliament, gentlemen, a mad Parliament," said one reverend doctor, as the news was definitely made known in Oxford that that place had been selected by King and Barons as a neutral spot where the adjourned Parliament should meet.

Great excitement reigned throughout the city and University. Nothing was talked of but the political situation, the weakness of the King, the resolution of the Barons to enforce the terms of the Great Charter upon the tyrannical monarch, and the possibility (only too well grounded) that the Sovereign, advised by his foreign favourites, would seek to call in aid from abroad, and overrun the fair realm of England with foreign mercenaries.

"But hireling foreigners must be paid," remarked one citizen grimly, as this danger was mooted, "and until the nation gets its rights and liberties, no more money will his Majesty wring from it. The sinews of war are in our pockets, and there they shall stay unless the King chooses to hear reason."

"Ay, and more than that," cried Gilbert, hurrying up to join the eager crowd; "I have had good news from my father in the south. He tells me that the Barons have garrisoned the Cinque Ports, so that no foreigners may land on our coasts. As the truce with France has just expired, they have good reason for this step, without doing any disloyalty to his Majesty; but all the world knows with what special object it has been done at this moment. Methinks we shall be free from fear of foreign invasion, and that we shall obtain our liberties without bloodshed."

"Heaven grant we may!" cried the older and graver amongst the townsfolks, some of whom remembered, and others had heard from their fathers, the tales of the terrible struggle in John's time, which had led to the granting of the Great Charter. They wanted no repetition of such scenes as those; albeit some of the younger and more ardent spirits, and the lawless and violent ones, would not have been displeased had some open collision occurred which should cause the whole country to fly to arms.

Even as it was, great impetus had been given to the joustings and practices of wars in the meadows around the city. Both clerks and citizens went out afoot or on horseback during the long evenings of summer, and often such a tumult arose, and such a din of arms, that one might well suppose some real battle was going on rather than an imitation of it.

June had come, and all the world was clothed in verdure. Oxford was looking her best and brightest at this season. As the day for the assembling of this Parliament drew near, the excitement became intense. Lectures in some cases were suspended, and discipline of any kind became enforced only with difficulty.

As usual, there were two parties in the city. The very fact that the scholars sided almost to a man with the Barons' party disposed some of the citizens to throw in their sympathies with the King. Henry was no special favourite, but he was personally beloved by those who had at any time had access to his presence. He was not vicious, and he was devout; his defenders could always say many things in his favour. He was not a monarch to inspire respect or personal enthusiasm; but then neither was he one who roused against himself any great outbreak of popular rage. Had he lived in less critical days, or been better advised, he might have passed through life comfortably and easily, and have been regarded as a good and well-meaning monarch.

"We must needs see some of these great sights!" cried Jack excitedly to Leofric, after coming back from a prowl round the city one evening. "They say that to-morrow the Barons will march into the city; and upon the day following the King will arrive at Beaumont Palace. We must go forth to see these brave sights. Marry, what a time it will be for Oxford! Right glad am I to be here at such a season! Think of it – I might have been following the plough behind my father's horses, knowing naught of the great things that be doing in the world!"

A few minutes later and Hugh burst in, quivering with excitement.

"The great Earl of Leicester with his train comes to-morrow," he cried, "and many others of the Barons as well. Some will lodge here, and some there; but the great De Montfort and his sons will come to Dagville's Inn, and for the nonce all who are there must make way. So I come to beg a lodging with you, my friends; and if fortune favours us, I will seek to get speech with my old playmates, Guy and Amalric, and will present ye both to them."

"Are they the sons of the great Earl?" asked Leofric eagerly.

"Ay; and time was once when I went as a page with my father to Kenilworth, and we played together, we boys. Guy and Amalric are the two youngest sons. The elder pair have won knighthood for themselves beyond the seas. But these be yet lads still, albeit, if report says true, very proper and noble lads. Right well do I hope that they will accompany their father on the morrow. Methinks they will not have forgotten me. Amalric was very friendly in those past days, and we vowed to love each other always."

There was little sleep for the trio in the turret that night. Jack and Leofric made Hugh tell them everything he could remember of the De Montfort family at Kenilworth, when he had been there as page.

They wanted to know, too, the names of the other Barons who would support the Earl of Leicester; and although parties changed with somewhat confusing rapidity, as private jealousies or conflicting interests made the friend of to-day the enemy of to-morrow, yet Hugh knew pretty well who were likely to range themselves upon the side of the liberties of the nation, and could give bits of information to his companions about the great nobles of the day.

The Earls of Gloucester, Hereford, and Norfolk were, he thought, certain to support the Earl of Leicester, and also Hugh le Bigod and Hugh le Despenser, whose names were pretty well known at that time. The King was more likely to be backed by Bishops and Archbishops, especially such as still held themselves subservient to the Pope. Then he was almost certain to be attended by some of the De Lusignans, his half-brothers, and by numbers of other foreign favourites, whose constant presence at Court was such an offence to the nation.

"They eat up everything before them, like so many locusts!" cried Hugh hotly. "So soon as any place becomes vacant, the King, instead of promoting some honest English gentleman to it, who may have served him faithfully for years, throws it to one of his foreign favourites, who may have a dozen such offices already. They drain the life-blood from the country, and we, its sons, are left to take what pickings we can get!"

It was easy to understand how bitterly the English nobles and gentlemen were beginning to resent this kind of thing; and when it was combined with a constant infringement of their liberties, and an equally constant imposition of new and illegal exactions, anger became exasperation, and the sense of a coming crisis was in the very air.

The short night was soon over, and with the first of the sunlight the three lads awoke from their light slumbers.

There was no lingering abed for any that day. Hardly had they returned from their plunge in the pool, and arrayed themselves in their best habits, before sounds in the streets warned them that all the city was up and doing.

Hurrying forth, they saw that the citizens had begun to deck their houses as if for a festival: flags were flying from windows, and bands of clerks paraded up and down the streets, singing songs, cracking jokes, and sometimes striving to make speeches in imitation of those which would be made when the conference should have assembled.

Mummers were pouring into the town, as they always did on any holiday, and at the street corners they were to be seen going through their rough representations or practising some rude sort of jugglery. It was plain that there would be no lectures that day. The clerks were far too excited to attend, and the masters little less so.

But many hours must of necessity pass before the Barons would be likely to arrive at the city gates. These hours had to be got rid of somehow, and Leofric suggested that they should go and see if Brother Angelus were lecturing in the school of the Friars, since perhaps the excitement had not spread so much into the religious establishments as into the Halls and lodging-houses.

Friar Angelus truly was there, and so were the pupils of his own school, but very few outsiders came in that day; and the lecturer did not keep his hearers very long, dismissing them with a smile, and cautioning them not to get into any mischief or trouble in their excitement.

He looked pleased to see Leofric and Jack, and spoke to them as he passed out. They asked him rather eagerly which side he took – that of the King or that of the Barons. He answered, with one of his thoughtful smiles, that these matters were not given to him to judge of – that he meddled but little in the strife of nations; but if he had to judge of any question, he sought always to discover the teachings of Holy Scripture, and to judge according to the mind of Christ.

By this time messengers had come to report that the Earl of Leicester, together with the Earl of Gloucester, had reached Abingdon, where they had halted to dine, and that they might be expected to arrive at the Grandpont by three o'clock in the afternoon.

All the city seemed in motion towards the South Gate, which led towards the Grandpont (as Folly Bridge was then called), and Gilbert rushing up joined himself to the other three, and urged them to come and see all that was to be seen.

The narrow street was quite blocked with foot passengers – clerks, citizens, masters and doctors all mingling together in one moving mass. It was a good-natured crowd, and there was much laughing and jesting as they had to squeeze through the gateway, and again across the bridge, until in the meadow beyond they had breathing room, and could spread themselves out more at ease. Here, dotted about in picturesque groups, were knots of persons who had come from the surrounding districts – farmers on their stout nags, with wife or daughter perched on a pillion behind; and there, too, were groups of squires and gentlemen from the neighbouring houses or castles, many of these having brought their women folk to watch the procession pass.

One group attracted attention from the fine trappings of the horses, and from the general air of importance it wore. There were two ladies, several horsemen in fine garments, and one tall, commanding personage, who was evidently an official of some sort. He was surrounded by several soldiers, who observed an attitude of watchful attention; and Gilbert said to his comrades in a quick whisper, —

"Yon is the Constable of the Castle. They say he is very favourable to the cause of the Barons, though he calls himself the servant of the King. He is a good man, and well beliked in Oxford, albeit he and the Chancellor sometimes come to loggerheads anent the limits of their jurisdiction; yet they be good friends for all that. There goes the Chancellor to speak with him and join his party."

Leofric looked rather eagerly towards the little group around the Constable, and truly enough there sat Mistress Alys upon her palfrey, her golden hair hanging like a cloud about her face, her eyes gazing round her full of curiosity. Suddenly she met the gaze bent upon her, and started a little. Then a look of recognition flashed into her face. She glanced at her father, but he was engrossed in conversation, and did not see. Failing in getting his attention, she just raised her hand, and waved it for a moment towards Leofric and his companion; then blushing a little as if at her boldness, she drew back behind one of the horsemen in the group.

Leofric bared his head and bowed low at the little lady's salute; but he made no further attempt to attract attention, and the friends passed quickly through the crowd lingering at the head of the bridge, and made their way along the road towards Abingdon, where numbers of the citizens were already straying, in hopes of catching sight of the foremost of the Barons' followers.

Presently they came upon a group gathered beneath the shade of some large oak trees, and heard themselves hailed in tones of welcome. This group consisted of the Seaton family, and the beautiful twins, Lotta and Linda. Pedro Balzani, not desiring that his daughters should remain in the inn when it was like to be crowded from garret to basement by fine gallants in the train of the Earl of Leicester, had asked of his neighbours the Seatons houseroom for them at this season, Joanna Seaton being the great friend of the twin sisters. The whole party had come forth to picnic under the greenwood trees and watch the show go by. And now, as was but natural, these four comrades, who always consorted more or less together, were invited to share in the remains of the repast, and to join the pleasant party.

Nothing loth, they all sat down, and having been too excited to provide themselves with dinner, were glad enough of some of Dame Seaton's excellent fare. By this time all the party were very well acquainted – laughter and fun were the order of the day. By this time Leofric had come to distinguish as a rule between the twin sisters, although he frequently made a mistake which evoked amusement and banter. Hugh never made any mistake now, and always gravitated towards Linda, the gentler of the two girls. Leofric sometimes wondered whether or not he was beginning to love the maiden. She was certainly very sweet and winning, yet she was but the daughter of an innkeeper, and half a foreigner to boot; whilst Hugh was a gentleman's son, and might hope one day to win his spurs.

The sun overhead shone down hotly, though beneath the trees it was pleasant enough. The afternoon was wearing on, and excitement had become intense.

At last the long-waited-for sounds arose, telling of the approach of a number of riders. Rushing helter-skelter along the dusty road came bands of clerks and others, who had gone on towards Abingdon, and now came pouring back towards the city with the cry on their lips, —

"They come! they come!"

All sprang to their feet. The youths helped the maidens to clamber into good places of observation amid the branches of a gnarled old oak, blasted by lightning, that stood hard by the road. Then they drew themselves up bare-headed beneath, prepared to swell the shout of welcome which arose as soon as the foremost horsemen hove in sight. Leofric strained his eyes to gaze at the oncoming procession, for it was such a sight as his eyes had never looked upon before.

Hugh stood close beside him, his eyes shining with excitement and anticipation. The tramp of horse-hoofs and the ringing sound of armour made itself heard through the still, clear air.

"Come they in arms?" whispered Gilbert with bated breath, for he was not prepared for that. Yet, sure enough, as the first ranks of the horsemen rode up, it was plainly to be seen that they were armed from top to toe – a brave spectacle in truth, yet one that the by-standers had scarcely expected to see.

Row after row, row after row of bravely-trapped horsemen passed by at a gentle trot, and still Hugh made no sign. Then he suddenly grasped the arms of those next to him, and exclaimed, —

"There he is! there he is! Is he not a right royal man?"