Agincourt Part 50

As the young knight rode on, and came into the country through which the English army had pa.s.sed, the sad and terrible effects of that barbarous system of warfare, which was universal in those times, made themselves visible at every step. Houses and villages burnt, cattle slaughtered and left half consumed by the wayside, and fruit trees cut down for the purpose of lighting fires, presented themselves all along the road; and the painful feelings which such a scene could not but produce were aggravated by the lamentations of the villagers, who felt no terror at the appearance of a party consisting of women and of men without any arms except those usually worn in time of peace, and who poured forth their complaints to Woodville's ear, pointing to their ruined dwellings, and their little property destroyed, and cursing the ambition of kings, and the ferocity of their soldiery.

The young knight felt grieved and sorrowful; but he was surprised to find that the bitterness of the peasantry was less excited against the English themselves, than he had expected; and, on guiding the conversation with one of these poor men in a direction which he thought would lead to some explanation of the fact, the villager replied vehemently, "The English are not so bad as our own people.

They are enemies, and we might expect worse at their hands; but, wherever the King or his brothers were, they destroyed little or nothing, and only took what they wanted. But, since they have pa.s.sed, we have had two bands of Frenchmen, who have destroyed everything that the English left, on the pretence that we favoured them, though they knew that we could not resist. The Duke of York took my meat and my flour; but he left my house standing, and injured no one in the place.

That cursed Robinet de Bournonville, and his companion the captain Vodeville, burnt down my house and carried off my daughter."

The young knight consoled the poor man as well as he could, and gave him a piece of silver, thinking it somewhat strange, indeed, that one of Bournonville's companions should have a name so nearly resembling his own. He and his companions rode on, however, still finding that the band, which he had seen issue forth from Peronne in the morning, had gone on before them, till they reached the town of Acheux, which was well nigh deserted. Most of the houses were closed and the doors nailed up; but they had evidently been broken into by the windows, and had been rifled of all their contents. In the mere hovels, indeed, some cottagers were seen; and on inquiring of one of these where they could find any place of rest, as night was coming on, the man led them to a large, ancient, embattled mansion in the centre of the town, which, though stripped of everything easily portable, still contained some beds and pallets. An old woman was found in the house, which she said belonged to the Lord of Acheux, and for a small piece of silver she agreed to make the strangers as comfortable as she could, seeming--perhaps, from old experience of such things--perhaps, from the obtuseness of age--to feel the horrors of war less keenly than any one they had yet met with. Money, however, made all her faculties alive, and declaring that she knew, notwithstanding the pillage which the place had undergone, where to procure corn for the cattle, and bread, eggs, and even wine, for the party, she set out upon her search, while Woodville and his two male companions led the horses and mules to the vacant stable, and the two novices remained in one of the desolate chambers up the great flight of stairs.

When the beasts had been tied to the manger, the young knight returned with the man and the boy to their fair companions; but the old woman had not yet returned; and as night was falling fast, he lighted a small lamp which he found in the kitchen, and returned with it to the chamber above. A few minutes after, while he was expressing his sorrow to the two maidens that he could find no better lodging for them, the sound of a small party of horse was heard below, and a voice exclaimed in English, "Ah! there is a light--I will lodge here, Matthew. Take my casque. This cursed cuira.s.s pinches me on the shoulder: unbuckle this strap. Keep a watch for Ned, or any one he may send."

The voice was not unfamiliar to Richard of Woodville; and a heavy frown gathered upon his brow. His first impulse was to lay his hand upon his sword, and take a step towards the door; but then, remembering what fearful odds there might be against him, he turned to the window and looked out. He could distinguish little but that there were ten or twelve men below; and as he gazed, a step was heard upon the stairs. The young gentleman turned hastily to close and bolt the door; but to his surprise he beheld the taller of the two novices with the lamp in her hand, walking rapidly towards the entrance; and turning towards him, she said in a stern and solemn tone, "Leave him to me!"

The next instant she had pa.s.sed the door; and when Richard of Woodville reached it and looked out into the gloomy corridor, he could see her, by the lamp that she held in her hand, meet Simeon of Roydon, upon whose face the full light fell, as he was just reaching the top of the stairs. Her back was towards the young knight, but he perceived that she suddenly raised her veil, and he heard her say, in English, and in a deep and solemn tone, "Ha! Have you come at length?"

Whatever might have been the import of those words on the ear of him to whom they were addressed, he staggered, fell back, and would have been precipitated from the top to the bottom of the stairs, had he not by a convulsive effort grasped the rope that ran along the wall The light was instantly extinguished, and the moment after Richard felt the novice's hand laid upon his arm, drawing him back into the room.

They all listened, and steps were heard rapidly descending the stairs, followed by the voice of Simeon of Roydon exclaiming, "No, no, I cannot lodge here--I will not lodge here! Mount, and away. We will go on."

"But, n.o.ble knight," said another voice,--

"Away, away!" cried Simeon of Roydon again. "Mount! or by Heaven--"

and immediately there came the sound of armed men springing on their horses, the tramp of the chargers as they rode away, and the fainter noise of their departing feet.

"In the name of Heaven, who are you?" demanded Richard of Woodville, addressing her who had produced such a strange effect.

"One whom he bitterly injured in former days," replied the novice; "and whom he dares not face even now. Ask no more: that is enough!"

"It were well to quit this place," said the other girl, in a low voice. And the clerk's man urged the same course, adding, "He may take heart and return,--besides, he spoke of some one coming."

Richard of Woodville remained in silence, meditating deeply for several minutes, with his arms folded on his chest, and his eyes bent down. The faint outline of his figure was all that could be seen in the dim semi-darkness that pervaded the room; but the novice who had proposed to go, approached him gently, and laying her hand upon his arm, again urged it, saying, "Had we not better go?"

"Well," said the young knight, starting from his reverie as if suddenly awakened from a dream, "let us go. But yet a cold night ride, with no place of shelter for two young and tender things like you, is no slight matter. Run down, boy, and light the lamp again--"

"No, no, no!" cried one of the two ladies, eagerly. "Light it not! let us go at once.--Hark! there is some one below."

"The old woman's step," cried the page; "I will run down and see what she has got."

He returned in a moment with the good dame, bearing more than she had promised. She easily understood the reason why the light which she offered was refused; and after taking some wine and bread, the whole party descended to the stable, whence the horses were brought forth; and Richard of Woodville, paying her well for her trouble and her provisions, bade the page take the remainder of the bread to feed the poor beasts, when they could venture to pause. In less than a quarter of an hour the young knight and his companions were once more on their way, under the direction of the clerk's man, who proposed that they should bear a little towards Doulens, which would lead them out of the immediate track that the English army had followed.

CHAPTER XLI.

THE CAMP.

September days are short and bright, like the few hours of happiness in the autumn of man's career. September nights are long and dull, like the wearing cares and infirmities of life's decline; but often the calm grand moon will shed her cold splendour over the scene, solemn and serene, like the light of those consolations which Cicero suggested to his friend, for the privation of the warmer joys and more vivid hopes that pa.s.s away with the spring and summer of existence, and with the departure of the brighter star.

The wind was sinking away, when Richard of Woodville rode out with his companions from the ruined village of Acheux, and soon fell into a calm soft breeze; the moon rose up in her beauty, and cleared away the dull white haze that had spread over the sky, during the whole day; and, as the travellers wended on in silence, the features of the scene around were clearly marked out by the rays, every bold ma.s.s standing forth in strong relief, every deep valley seeming an abyss, where darkness took refuge from the eye of light. For about eight miles farther they pursued their way almost in total silence; but at the end of that distance, the hanging heads and feeble pace of the horses and mules showed, that they would soon be able to go no farther: and the young knight looked anxiously for some place of repose.

That part of the country, as the reader is aware, is famous for its rocks and caverns. There is a very remarkable cave at a place called Albert, but that was at a considerable distance behind them, and on their left. In pa.s.sing along, however, by the side of a steep cliff, which ran at the distance of a few hundred yards from the road, with a green sward between, the moon shone full upon the rocky face of the hill, and the eye of Richard of Woodville soon perceived the mouth of a cavern, like a black spot upon the surface of the mountain. After some consultation with his companions, and some suggestions regarding wolves and bears, Woodville determined to try whether shelter could not be found in this "antre vast," for a few hours; and, riding up as far as the footing was safe towards the entrance, the whole party dismounted, and the young knight entering first, explored it by the feel to the very farther end, which, indeed, was at no great distance, as it luckily happened, for in some cases, such an undertaking might have been attended with considerable peril.

It was perfectly vacant, however, and Woodville brought the two novices within the brow of the rude arch, a.s.suring them that they might rest on a large stone near the mouth in safety. He then led his own horse up, the others following, and taking the bits out of their mouths, the men distributed amongst them the bread they had brought from the village, which the poor beasts ate slowly, but with apparent gladness, and then fell to the green gra.s.s on the mountain side with still greater relish.

All the party were silent, for all were very weary; and while the clerk's man laid himself down on the sandy bottom of the cave, and the page sat nodding at the entrance, Richard of Woodville remained standing just within the shadow, with his arms folded on his chest; and the two novices remained seated on the stone where they had first placed themselves, with their arms twined together. The young knight thought that they would soon fall asleep; but such was not the case; and when, after the moon had travelled some way to the south, the sound of a horse's feet made itself heard through the stillness of the night, trotting on towards Acheux, the slighter and the shorter of the two girls rose suddenly, and coming forward gazed towards the road, on which, at this time, the rays were falling strong. A moment after a single horseman rode by at a quick pace, but turned not his head in the direction of the cavern, and seemed little to think that he was watched; for the figure of the slumbering page might well have pa.s.sed for some stone of a quaint form, in that dim light, and the horses had been gathered together under the shadow of a rock.

She strained her eyes upon the pa.s.sing traveller; and then, as he rode on, she returned to her companion and whispered something to her. The other replied in the same low tone, and, after a brief conversation, they relapsed into silence; and the young knight stripping off his cloak, gave it to them to wrap themselves in, and counselled them to seek some repose against the fatigues of the coming day. They would fain have excused themselves from taking the mantle; but he insisted, saying that he felt the air sultry; and then seating himself at a distance, he closed his eyes, strove to banish thought, and after several efforts dozed lightly, waking every five or ten minutes and looking out to the sky, till at length a faint grey streak in the east told him that morning was at hand. Then rousing his companions, he called them to repeat their matin prayers, and after they were concluded, hastened to prepare the horses and mules for their onward journey.

Day had not fully dawned ere they were once more on the way; but a considerable distance still lay between them and Hesdin; and the few and scanty villages that were then to be found in that part of the country, were in general deserted, so that but little food was to be found for man or beast. At one farmhouse, indeed, the two weary girls found an hour's repose on the bed of the good farmer's wife. Some bread and meat, and, also, one feed of corn was procured for the horses and mules; but that was all that could be obtained during the whole day, till at length about Fremicourt, they met with a man from whom they learned the exact position of the two armies, which were now drawing nearer and nearer to each other, the head quarters of the one having been established at St. Pol, and those of the English at Blangy.

Shortly after, the clerk's man pointed out a narrow road to the left, saying, that leads to Hesdin; and Woodville, drawing in his rein, turned to his fair companions, saying, "Here, then, we must part; for I must on to Blangy with all speed. The man and the boy shall accompany you; and G.o.d guard you on your way."

"Farewell, then, for the present, sir knight," replied the taller of the two girls. "We shall meet again, I think, when I may thank you better than I can now."

"But take your page with you, at least, sir," said the other; "we shall be quite safe, I doubt not."

Richard of Woodville would not consent, however; and giving the boy some directions, he waved his hand, and rode away. Once--just as he was going--he turned his head, hearing voices speaking, and thinking some one called him by name; but the younger novice, as she seemed, was talking with apparent eagerness to the clerk's man, and he caught the sounds--"As soon as he is gone."--"Take plenty with you--"

The young knight perceived that the words were not addressed to him, and spurred forward. Evening was coming on apace; and Blangy was still ten or twelve miles distant; but his horse was exhausted with long travelling and little food, and nothing would urge him into speed. At a slow walk he pursued his way, till at length, just as the sun touched the edge of the western sky, the animal stopped altogether, with his limbs trembling and evidently unable to proceed. Richard of Woodville dismounted; and taking the bit out of the horse's mouth, he relieved him from the saddle, and led him a little way from the road, saying, "There, poor beast, find food and rest if you can." He then left him, and walked on a-foot.

The red evening light at first glowed brightly in the sky; but soon it grew grey, and faint twilight was all that remained, when the road wound in to a deep forest, covering the sides of a high hill.

Woodville had heard that Blangy was situated in the midst of woodlands, and his heart felt relieved as he approached; but the darkness increased as he went on, and at length the stars shone out above. Soon after a hum as of a distant mult.i.tude met his ear; but it was lost again as the road wound round the ascent amidst the tall trees; and all was silent and solemn. About a quarter of a mile onward, where the hill was steep, the path rose above the scrubby brushwood on his left, and he could see over the forest to a spot where a reddish glare rose up from the bottom of the valley. But somewhat farther in the forest itself, on a spot where the taller trees had fallen before the axe, and nothing but thin underwood remained, he caught a sight of three or four fires, the light of which shone upon some half dozen tents; and the figures of men moving about across the blaze were apparent, notwithstanding the darkness of the night.

The distance might be three or four hundred yards; and Richard of Woodville, wearied and exhausted, resolved to make his way thither, rather than take the longer and more tedious course of following the road to the bottom of the hill. Plunging in, then, sometimes through low copse, sometimes amongst tall trees, he hurried on, feeling faint and heavyhearted again; for the first joy of rejoining his countrymen had pa.s.sed away, and from the rumours he had heard, he not a little doubted of his reception. He knew, indeed, that he had nothing to reproach himself with, and felt sure that he should easily prove the falsehood of any charge against him: but it was painful to think that, after long imprisonment, and the loss of many a bright day and fond hope, he should be met with coldness and frowns upon his first return.

The body, too, weighed upon the spirit as it always does in every moment of la.s.situde and exhaustion, so that all things seemed darker to his eye than they would have done at another moment.

On he walked, however, his feet catching in the long briers, or striking against the stumps of felled trees, till at length a man started up before him, and exclaimed, "Who goes there?"

"A friend!" answered the young knight, in the same English tongue.

"What friend?" demanded the soldier, advancing.

"My name is Woodville. Lead me to your lord, whoever he is," replied Richard.

"Here, Mark!" cried the man to another, who was a little farther down, "take him to Sir Henry's tent;" and suffering the knight to pa.s.s on, he laid himself down again amongst the leaves.

The second soldier gazed at the young knight steadily for a moment by the blaze of the burning wood, and then told him to follow, murmuring something to himself as he led the way. They pa.s.sed the two fires without any notice from the men who were congregated round, and approached the tents, while from the valley below, rose up some wild strains of instrumental music, the flourish of trumpets and clarions, mixed with the sound of many human voices, talking, laughing, and shouting.

"Have you seen the enemy yet?" asked Richard of Woodville.

"No, sir," replied his guide; "but we shall see him tomorrow, they say. Here is the knight's tent. _You_ may go in, I know."

The man laid a strong emphasis on the word "you," and turning to look at him, as held back the hangings of the tent, the young knight thought he recognised an old familiar face. The next instant he was within the canva.s.s, and beheld before him a man of about his own age, seated at a board raised upon two trestles, with a lamp burning, and a book spread out under his eyes. His head was bent upon his hand, and the curls of his thick short hair were black, mingled here and there with a silvery thread. He was deep in study, and heard not the rustle of the tent as the stranger entered, nor his footfall within; and Richard paused for an instant and gazed upon him. As he did so, his eye grew moist; and he said in a low voice, "Dacre!--Harry!"

Sir Henry Dacre started, and raised his worn and care-wrought countenance; and springing forward, he clasped Woodville in his arms, exclaiming, "Oh, Richard--can it be you?"

Then looking with an apprehensive eye round the tent, he said, "Thank G.o.d, there is no one here!--Did they know you?--Did any one see you?"

"Yes," replied Richard of Woodville; "two of your men saw me, Dacre.