Books: The Herd Boy and His Hermit
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Charlotte M. Yonge >> The Herd Boy and His Hermit
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They were accordingly conducted through a graceful cloister,
overgrown with trailing ivy, to a bare room, with mullioned windows,
and frescoes on the Walls with the history of St. Francis relieving
beggars, preaching to the birds, &c., and with a stout open work
barrier cutting off half the room.
Presently the Prioress tottered in, leaning heavily on the arms of
Sister Mabel and of Anne St. John, while her own lay Sister and
another placed a seat for her; but before she would sit down, she
would go up to the opening, and turning back her veil, put out a hand
to be grasped. 'Right glad am I to see you, good Sir Giles and young
Harry. Are you going back to the wholesome winds of our moors?'
'Not yet, holy Mother. It grieves me to see you faring so ill.'
'Ah! a breeze from the north would bring life back to my old bones.
Aye, Giles, this place has made an old woman of me.' And truly her
bright ruddy face was faded to a purple hue, and her cheeks hung
haggard and almost withered, but as her visitors expressed their
grief and sympathy, she went on in her own tone. 'And tell me
somewhat of how things are going. How doth Richard of Warwick
comport himself to the King? Hath your King zest enough to reign?
Is my White Rose King still abroad in Burgundy?' And as Sir Giles
replied to each inquiry in turn, and told all he could of political
matters, she exclaimed: 'Ah! that is better than the hearing whether
the black hen hath laid an egg, or the skein of yellow silk matches.
I am weary, O! I am weary. Moreover, young Hal, I know as matters
are that could I see George Nevil face to face I could do somewhat
with him, and I laid my plans to obtain a meeting, but therewith,
what with vexation and weariness and lack of air, comes this
sickness, and I am laid aside and can do nought but pray, and lay my
plans to meet him some day in the fields, and show him what a hawk
can do, then shame him into listening to my tale. But I must be a
sound woman first! And maybe his brother Warwick, being a sturdy
gentleman who loves a brave man, will be better to deal with. I am a
sinful woman, and maybe my devotions here will help me to be more
worthy to be heard. Moreover, I hoped you had done somewhat in thine
own cause with thy King and Earl Oxford,' she proceeded. 'Thou hast
an esquire's coat; hast thou any hope of thy lands?'
'I must strive to earn them by deeds,' said Hal. 'And--'
'Well spoken, lad! 'Tis the manly way; but methought you hadst
interest with this King of thine, or hath he only a royal memory for
services?'
'He is good to me. Yea, most good,' began Harry.
'Ay, he loves the boy,' said Sir Giles, 'no question about that; but
his memory for all that is about him hath failed, and there is
nothing for it save to wait for the Queen and the Prince, who will
bear the boy's father's services in mind.'
'And wherefore tarries the French woman? This maid's father is to
come over with her. He is forming her English court, I trow; she can
have few beside from England.'
'When he comes,' said Harry, with a look into Anne's eyes that made
them droop and her cheeks burn, 'then shall we put it to the touch.
Then shall I know whether I have mine own, and what is more than mine
own.'
'Thine own,' whispered Anne. 'Oh, better live in the sheepfolds with
thee than with this Baron! I shudder at the thought.'
This, and a few more such words were an aside, while the Prioress
continued her conversation with Sir Giles, and went on to say that
she was sure she should never recover till she was out of these
walls, and away from London smoke and London smells, and she
naughtily added in a whisper the weary talk of these good nuns, who
had never flown a hawk or chased a deer in their lives, and thought
Florimond a mere wolf, if not the evil one himself, and kept the poor
hound chained up like a malefactor in gyves, till she was fain to
send him away with Master Lorimer to keep for her.
She would not go back to her Priory till Anne's fate was settled,
being in hopes of doing something yet for the poor wench; but
meantime she should die if she stayed there much longer, and she
meant to set forth on pilgrimage in good time, before she had
scandalised the good ladies enough to make them gossip to the dames
of St. Helen's, who would be only too glad to have a story against
the Benedictines. A ride over the Kentish downs was the only cure
for her or for Anne, who had been pining ever since they had been
mewed up here, though, looking across at the girl, whose head was
leaning against the bars, Sir Giles seemed to have brought a remedy
to judge by those cheeks.
'Would that we could hope it would be an effectual and lasting
remedy,' sighed Sir Giles; 'but unless this poor King could be roused
to insist, or the Earl of Warwick fell out with his cousin, I do not
see much chance for the lad.'
'Is it Warwick who is his chief foe or King Edward?' asked the
Prioress.
'King Edward, doubtless, for his father's slaughter of young Rutland
at Wakefield.'
'That bodes ill,' said the lady. 'By all I gather, King Edward is a
tiger when once roused, but at other times is like that same tiger,
purring and slow to move. But there's a bell that warns us to
vespers. They are mightily more strict here than ever we are at
Greystone. Ah! you won't tell tales, Sir Giles! You'll soon hear of
me at St. Thomas's shrine at Canterbury.'
The knight took his leave. It was impossible not to like and pity
the Prioress, though the life among devout nuns was clearly beyond
her powers.
The dreamy peaceful days of the Tower of London were stirred by the
arrival of the great Earl of Warwick, the Kingmaker, as people
already called him. He took up his residence in his own mighty
establishment at Warwick House near St. Paul's; and the day after his
arrival, he came clanking over London Bridge with a great following
of knights and squires to pay his respects to King Henry.
Henry Clifford was not disposed to meet him, and only watched from a
window when the drawbridge was lowered, and the sturdy man, with
grizzled hair and marked, determined features, rode into the gateway,
where he was received by the Earl of Oxford.
The interview was long, and when it was finished, the two Earls made
the round of the defences, and Oxford drew up his garrison on the
Tower Green to be inspected.
When Warwick had taken his leave, Hal was summoned to the Constable's
hall. 'We must be jogging, my young master,' he said. 'There are
rumours of King Edward making another attempt for his crown, and my
Lord of Warwick would have me go and watch the eastern seaboard. And
you had best go with me.'
'The King--' began Hal.
'You will come back to the King by-and-by if so be he misses you, but
he was more dazed than ever to-day, and perhaps it was well, for
Warwick brought with him Dick Nevil, who has got your lands of
Clifford, and might be tempted to put you out of the way in one of
the dungeons that lie so handy.'
'No one save the King knows who I am,' said Hal, 'and he forgets from
day to day all save that I am the herd boy, and I think it cheers him
to have me with him. I will stay beside him even as a varlet.'
'Nay, my lord, that may not be. 'Tis true he loves thee, but he will
forget anon, and I may not suffer the risk. Too many know or guess.'
Harry Clifford repeated that he recked not of the risk when he could
serve and comfort his beloved King, and, indeed, his mind was made up
on the subject. He had taken measures for remaining as one of the
men-at-arms of the garrison; but King Henry himself surprised him by
saying, 'My young Lord of Clifford, fare thee well. Thou goest forth
to-morrow with the Constable of Oxford. Take my blessing with thee,
my child. Thou hast been granted to me to make life very sweet to me
of late, and I thank God for it, but the time is come that thou must
part from me.'
'Oh, sir, never! None was ever so dear to me! For weal or woe I
will be with you! Suffer me to be your meanest varlet, and serve you
as none other can do.'
Henry shook his head. 'It may not be, my child, let not thy blood
also be on my head! Go with Oxford and his men. Thou hast learnt to
draw sword and use lance. Thou wilt be serving me still if again
there be, which Heaven forefend, stricken fields in my cause or my
son's.'
'Sir, if I must fight, let no less holy hand than thine lay
knighthood on my shoulder,' sobbed Hal, kneeling.
Henry smiled. 'I have well-nigh forgotten the fashion. But if it
will please thee, my son, give me thy sword, Oxford. In the name of
God and St. George of England I dub thee knight. For the Church, for
the honour of God, for a good cause, fight. Arise, Sir Henry
Clifford!'
CHAPTER XIX. A STRANGE EASTER EVE
And spare, O spare
The meek usurper's holy head.--GRAY.
Once more, at the close of morning service, while it was still dark,
did Harry Clifford, the new-made knight, kneel before King Henry and
feel his hand in blessing on his head. Then he went forth to join
Musgrave and the troop that the Earl of Oxford was leading from the
Tower to raise the counties of East Anglia and watch the coast
against a descent of King Edward from the Low Countries.
As they passed the walls enclosing the Minories Convent, and Hal
gazed at it wistfully, the wide gateway was opened and out came a
party of black-hooded nuns, mounted on ponies and mules, evidently
waiting till Oxford's band had gone by. Harry drew Sir Giles's
attention, and they lingered, as they became certain that they beheld
the Prioress Selby of Greystone, hawk, hound and all, riding forth,
nearly smothered in her hood, and not so upright as of old.
'Ay, here I am!' she said, as he reined up and bowed his greeting.
'Here I am on my pilgrimage! I got Father Ridley, the Benedictine
head, to order me forth. Methinks he was glad, being a north
countryman, to send me out before I either died on the Poor Clares'
hands, or gave them a fuller store of tales against us of St.
Bennet's! Not but that they are good women, too godly and devout for
a poor wild north country Selby like me, who cannot live without air.
O the oak and the ash and the bonny ivy tree,
They flourish best at home in the north countree.
Flori, Flori, whither away? Ah! thou hast found thine old friend.
Birds of a feather. Eh? the young folk have foregathered likewise.
Watch! And thou, sir knight, whither are you away?'
'On our way to Norfolk in case the Duke of York should show himself
on the coast. And yours, reverend Mother?'
'To Canterbury first by easy journeys. We sleep to-night at the
Tabard, where we shall meet other pilgrims.'
'Here, alack! our way severs from yours. Farewell, holy Mother, may
you find health on your pilgrimage.'
'Every breath I take in is health,' said the Mother, who had already
manoeuvred an opening in her veil, and gasped to throw it back as
soon as she should attain an unfrequented place. 'There are so many
coming and going here that all the air is used up by their greasy
nostrils! Well! good luck, and God's blessing go with you, and you,
young Hal, I may say so far, whichever side ye be, but still I hold
that York has the right, and yours may be a saint, but not a king.'
Hal had meantime 'forgathered' as the Prioress said with Anne,
marching, in spite of his new honours, close to her stirrup, and
venturing to whisper to her that he was now her knight, and 'her
colours,' which he was to wear for her, were only a tiny scrap of
ribbon from her glove, which he cut off with his dagger, and kissed,
saying he should wear it next his heart, though he might not do so
openly.
Their love was more implied than ever it had been before, and she
repeated her confidence that the kind Prioress would never leave her
till she had done her utmost for them both.
'But you, my good stripling, I am ashamed to see you. I have done
nothing for you. I sent a humble message to ask to see the
Archbishop, but had no answer, and by-and-by, when I stirred again,
who should come to sec me but young Bertram Selby, and "Kinswoman,"
said he, "you had best keep quiet. The Archbishop hath asked me
whether rumours were sooth that yours was scarce a regular Priory."
The squire stood up for me and said, as became one of the family,
that an outlying cell, where there were ill neighbours of Scots,
thieves, borderers, and the like, could scarce look to be as trim as
a city nunnery, and that none had ever heard harm of Mother Agnes.
But then one of his priests took on him to whisper in his ear, and he
demanded whether we had not gone so far as to hide traitors from
justice, to which Bertram returned a stout denial as well he might,
though he thought it well to give me warning, but for the present
there was no use in attempting anything more. The Archbishop was
exceedingly busy with the work of his office and the defence of
London in case of Edward's threatened return; but he had not yet
come, and no one thought there was a reasonable doubt that Warwick,
the Kingmaker, would not be victorious, and he had carried his son-
in-law, the Duke of Clarence, with him.' After the cause of the Red
Rose was won, there was no fear but that the services of Clifford
would be remembered. So Harry Clifford parted with Anne, promising
himself and her that there should be fresh Clifford services, winning
a recognition of the De Vesci inheritance if of no more.
The ladies went on their way in the track which Chaucer has made
memorable, laying their count to meet Queen Margaret and her son, and
win their ears beforehand, and wondering that they came not. Kentish
breezes soon revived the Prioress, and she went through many strange
devotions at the shrine of Becket, which, it might be feared, did not
improve her spiritual, so much as her bodily, health, while Anne's
chiefly resolved themselves into prayers that Harry Clifford might be
guarded and restored, and that she herself might be saved from the
dreaded Lord Redgrave.
They did not set out on the return to London till they had inhaled
plenty of sea breezes by visiting the shrine of St. Mildred in the
isle of Thanet, and St. Eanswith at Folkestone, till Lent had begun,
and the first fresh tidings that they met were that Edward had landed
in Yorkshire, but his fleet had been dispersed by storms, and the
people did not rise to join him, so that he was fain to proclaim that
he only came to assert his right to his father's inheritance of the
Dukedom of York.
At the Minoresses' Convent they found that a messenger had arrived,
bidding Anne go to meet her father at his castle in Bedfordshire. He
was coming over with the Queen whenever she could obtain a convoy
from King Louis of France. Lord Redgrave was with him, and the
marriage should take place as soon as they arrived.
'Never fear, child,' said the Prioress; 'many is the slip between the
cup and the lip.'
Further tidings came that Edward had thrown off his first plea, that
he had passed Warwick's brother Montagu at Pontefract, and that men
from his own hereditary estates were flocking to his royal banner.
Warwick was calling up his men in all directions, and both armies
were advancing on London. Then it was known that 'false, fleeting,
perjured Clarence' had deserted his father-in-law, and returned to
his brother; and worthless as he individually was, it boded ill for
Lancaster, though still hope continued in the uniform success of the
Kingmaker. Warwick was about twenty miles in advance of Edward, till
that King actually passed him and reached the town of Warwick itself.
Still the Earl wrote to his brother that if he could only hold out
London for forty-eight hours all would be well.
Once more poor King Henry was set on horseback and paraded through
the streets. Brother Martin went out with the chaplain of the Poor
Clares to gaze upon him, and they came back declaring that he was
more than ever like the image carried in a procession, seeming quite
as helpless and indifferent, except, said Brother Martin, when he
passed a church, and then a heavenly look came over his still
features as he bowed his head; but none of the crowd who came out to
gaze cried 'Save King Harry!' or 'God bless him!'
There were two or three thousand Yorkists in the various sanctuaries
of London, and they were preparing to rise in favour of their King
Edward, and only a few hundred were mustering in St. Paul's
Churchyard for the Red Rose.
The Poor Clares were in much terror, though nunneries and religious
houses, and indeed non-combatants in general, were usually respected
by each side in these wars; but the Prioress of Greystone was not
sorry that the summons to her protegee called her party off on the
way to Bedfordshire, and they all set forward together, intending to
make Master Lorimer's household at Chipping Barnet their first stage,
as they had engaged to do.
Their intention had been notified to Lorimer's people in his London
shop, who had sent on word to their master, and the good man came out
to meet them, full of surprise at the valour of the ladies in
attempting the journey. But they could not possibly go further.
King Edward was at St. Albans, and was on his way to London, and the
Earl of Warwick was coming up from Dunstable with the Earls of
Somerset and Oxford. For ladies, even of religious orders, to ride
on between the two hosts was manifestly impossible, and he and his
wife were delighted to entertain the Lady Prioress till the roads
should be safe.
The Prioress was nothing loth. She always enjoyed the freedom of a
secular household, and she was glad to remain within hearing of the
last news in this great crisis of York and Lancaster.
'I marvel if there will be a battle,' she said. 'Never have I had
the good luck to see or hear one.'
'Oh! Mother, are you not afraid?' cried Sister Mabel.
'Afraid! What should I be afraid of, silly maid? Do you think the
men-at-arms are wolves to snap you up?'
'And,' murmured Anne, 'we shall know how it goes with my Lord of
Oxford's people.'
These were the last days of Lent, and were carefully kept in the
matter of food by the household, but the religious observances were
much disturbed by the tidings that poured in. King Henry and
Archbishop Nevil had taken refuge in the house of Bishop Kemp of
London, Urswick the Recorder, with the consent of the Aldermen, had
opened the gates to Edward, and the Good Friday Services at Barnet,
the Psalms and prayers in the church, were disturbed by men-at-arms
galloping to and fro, and reports coming in continually.
There could be no going out to gather flowers to deck the Church the
next day, for King Edward was on the London side, and Warwick with
his army had reached the low hills of Hadley, and their tents, their
banners, and the glint of their armour might be seen over the heathy
slope between them and the lanes and fields, surrounded by hedges,
that fenced in the valley of Barnet. The little town itself, though
lying between the two armies, remained unoccupied by either party,
and only men-at-arms came down into it, not as plunderers, but to buy
food.
Warwick's cannon, however, thundered all night, a very awful sound to
such unaccustomed ears, but they were so directed that the charges
flew far away from Barnet, under a false impression as to the
situation of the Yorkist forces.
Mistress Lorimer had heard them before, but accompanied every report
with a pious prayer; Sister Mabel screamed at each, then joined in;
the Prioress was greatly excited, and walked about with Master
Lorimer, now on the roof, trying to see, now at the gate, trying to
hear. Anne fancied it meant victory to Hal's party, but knelt, tried
to pray while she listened, and the dogs barked incessantly. And
that Hal must be in the army above the little town they guessed, for
in the evening Watch came floundering into the courtyard, hungry and
muddy, but full of affectionate recognition of his old friends and
the quarters he had learnt to know. Florimond, who happened to be
loose, had a romp with him in their old fashion, and to the vexation
and alarm of his mistress, they both ran off together, and must have
gone hunting on the heath, for there was no response to her silver
whistle.
CHAPTER XX. BARNET
A dead hush fell; but when the dolorous day
Grew drearier toward twilight falling, came
A bitter wind, clear from the North, and blew
The mist aside.--TENNYSON.
And Sir Henry Clifford? Still he was Hal of Derwentdale, for the
perilous usurper, Sir Richard Nevil, was known to be continually with
Warwick, and Musgrave was convinced that the concealment was safest.
The youth then remained with the Peelholm men, and became a good deal
more practised in warlike affairs, and accustomed to campaigning,
during the three months when Oxford was watching the eastern coast.
On this Easter night he lay down on the hill-side with Watch beside
him, his shepherd's plaid round him, his heart rising as he thought
himself near upon gaining fame and honour wherewith to win his early
love, and winning victory and safety for his beloved King, or rather
his hermit. For as his hermit did that mild unearthly face always
come before him. He could not think of it wearing that golden crown,
which seemed alien to it, but rather, as he lay on his back, after
his old habit looking up at the stars, either he saw and recognised
the Northern Crown, or his dazed and sleepy fancy wove a radiant
coronet of stars above that meek countenance that he knew and loved
so well; and as at intervals the cannon boomed and wakened him, he
looked on at the bright Northern Cross and dreamily linked together
the cross and crown.
Easter Sunday morning came dawning, but no one looked to see the sun
dance, even if the morning had not been dull and grey, a thick fog
covering everything; but through it came a dull and heavy sound, and
the clang of armour. Even by their own force the radiant star of the
De Veres could hardly be seen on the banner, as the Earl of Oxford
rode up and down, putting his men in battle array. Hal was on foot
as an archer, meaning to deserve the spurs that he had not yet worn.
The hosts were close to one another, and at first only the continual
rain of arrows darkened the air; but as the sun rose and the two
armies saw one another, Oxford's star was to be seen carried into the
very midst of the opposing force under Lord Hastings. On, on, with
cries of victory, the knights rode, the archers ran across the heath
carrying all before them, never doubting that the day was theirs, but
not knowing where they were till trumpets sounded, halt was called,
and they were drawn up together, as best they might, round their
leading star. But as they advanced, behold there was an unexpected
shout of treason. Arrows came thickly on them, men-at-arms bearing
Warwick's ragged staff came thundering headlong upon them. 'Treason,
treason,' echoed on all sides, and with that sound in his ears Harry
Clifford was cut down, and fell under a huge horse and man, and lay
senseless under a gorse-bush.
He knew no more but that horses and men seemed for ever trampling
over him and treading him down, and then all was lost to him--for how
long he knew not, but for one second he was roused so far as to hear
a furious growling and barking of Watch, but with dazed senses he
thought it was over the sheep, tried to raise himself, could not,
thought himself dying, and sank back again.
The next thing he knew was 'Here, Master Lorimer, you know this gear
better than I; unfasten this buff coat. There, he can breathe.
Drink this, my lad.'
It was the Prioress's voice! He felt a jolt as of a waggon, and
opened his eyes. It was dark, but he knew he was under the tilt of
Lorimer's waggon, which was moving on. The Prioress was kneeling
over him on one side, Lorimer on the other, and his head was on a
soft lap--nay, a warm tear dropped on his face, a sweet though
stifled voice said, 'Is he truly better?'
Then came sounds of 'hushing,' yet of reassurance; and when there was
a halt, and clearer consciousness began to revive, while kind hands
were busy about him, and a cordial was poured down his throat, by the
light of a lantern cautiously shown, Hal found speech to say, as he
felt a long soft tongue on his face, 'Watch, Watch, is it thou, man?'
'Ay, Watch it is,' said the Prioress. 'Well may you thank him! It
is to him you owe all, and to my good Florimond.'
'But what--how--where am I?' asked Hal, trying to look round, but
feeling sharp thrills and shoots of pain at every motion.
'Lie still till they bring their bandages, and I will tell you.
Gently, Nan, gently--thy sobs shake him!' But, as he managed to hold
and press Anne's hand, the Prioress went on, 'You are in good
Lorimer's warehouse. Safer thus, though it is too odorous, for the
men of York do not respect sanctuary in the hour of victory.'
The word roused Hal further. 'The victory was ours!' he said. 'We
had driven Hastings' banner off the field! Say, was there a cry of
treason?'
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