CHAPTER XX.

A few pages more of dry details, dear reader, and then for nothing but

brief scenes and rapid action. This, if you please, is a chapter of

pure history; and therefore those who are well read in the annals of

the times may pass it over without any particular attention. To all who

are not, however, it will be found absolutely necessary to the right

understanding of that which is to follow.

On Hugh de Monthermer's arrival at Hereford, he found the news of

Edward's escape common to all the town; but, nevertheless, he thought

it necessary to communicate first to his uncle, and then to the Earl of

Leicester, all that had taken place after he had left them in the

morning.

"Some three hundred horses!" said De Montfort, as he listened to the

young nobleman's account of his meeting with Richard de Ashby. "They

are bold, upon my life! but they teach us that we have been somewhat

negligent. And so you unhorsed the traitor, but could neither kill nor

take him? It is a pity--you are sure that he is not dead?"

"Not sure, my lord," replied Hugh; "but I rather think not, for I felt

the spear strike, and then glance off. I would fain have brought him

into Hereford."

"Have you heard," continued De Montfort, "that our good friends the

Earl of Ashby and his son have left us?--so that I fear some hopes and

expectations, which your uncle mentioned regarding a fair lady's hand,

may suffer disappointment."

"I have heard it, my lord," answered Hugh, "and am, I confess, not a

little grieved. Nevertheless----"

"Well, what of nevertheless?" asked De Montfort, seeing that be.

paused.

"Why, nevertheless, my lord," replied Hugh, "I cannot but hope that I

shall succeed at last. I have never yet seen a matter of love which was

destined to end happily begin smoothly at the first."

"Ay, hope!" said De Montfort. "Hope is like a hungry boy, who I once

saw burn his mouth with his porridge; for he still consoled himself,

poor urchin, by saying that it would be cool enough by and by. May it

be as you wish, my young friend:--and so good night; for neither you

nor I can mend what is gone amiss this day."

As Hugh was leaving the room, De Montfort called to him again, saying,

"Pray ask your uncle to spend an hour with me to-night. I want his

warlike counsels in our present strait; I know no one more fitted to

advise me."

"And none more willing, my lord," replied Hugh, quitting the room.

Bustle, activity, preparation, the movement of troops, rumours Of

strange events, some false, some true, portents, even miracles--for

those were times in which every man were the magnifying-glasses of

superstition--doubts, expectations, suppositions in regard to the

motions of every following day, filled up the next fortnight busily.

Every part of the country, from one end to the other, was stirred up to

fight for one party or the other; and bands of soldiers moving across

to join their several banners often encountered in the same village,

and by their contests "frighted the isle from its propriety."

According to the best accounts that could be obtained, the number of

troops which gathered round Prince Edward and the Earl of Gloucester

was considerably larger than that which joined De Montfort in Hereford,

and being principally composed of cavalry, these levies dropped much

more rapidly in; the foot soldiers, who were enrolling themselves for

the party of the Lords Commissioners, as De Montfort's faction was

called, though infinitely more numerous, being very much longer in

their march, and more easily intercepted and driven back by the enemy.

To counterbalance the depression, however, which the increasing

strength of Edward and Gloucester might have spread through Hereford,

rumours came daily of a great rising of the citizens of the capital, in

favour of De Montfort; and there was also on his side that great moral

support which is given by the assurance of being at the head of a great

popular movement--for, that the cause of De Montfort was the popular

one, no one can doubt who reads the ballads, the legends, or the

histories of the day. The people, beyond all question, looked upon that

renowned leader, not only as the champion of their rights and

liberties, but as a hero, which he really was, and as a saint, which he

probably was not.

Still the camp of De Montfort suffered many severe defections. In

political contests, the love of novelty and of change affects many more

men than one would at first sight suppose, causing them to seize any

pretext for abandoning a party to which they have been for some time

attached, and for going over to the other, which they have constantly

opposed. Dissensions with their leaders or their fellow partisans,

disgusts at trifling acts of neglect--even weariness of habitual

associations, will produce in others the same effect; and thus a great

number of the nobles, who before the famous battle of Lewes supported

the Earl of Leicester, now framed or discovered an excuse for following

the example of the Earl of Ashby and his son, and joining the forces of

Gloucester and Prince Edward. A few, too, really doubtful of De

Montfort's real intentions, and fearful of his growing power, either

retired from his party without espousing that of the Prince, or

abandoned him entirely, and prepared to oppose him in arms.

Many of his weaker partisans, though adhering still to his cause, were

alarmed at this defection, and looked grave and sorrowful at the

intelligence received of the enemy's movements; but the Earl, though as

serious in his demeanour as his age and character might require, was

still firm and cheerful, as were all his principal councillors and

companions.

None seemed less depressed than the old Earl of Monthermer, who had

always a hopeful and courteous answer to give to every one. "We shall

beat them yet, my good friend," he said, in answer to a somewhat timid

and news-seeking gentleman, who stopped him while riding down from the

castle to his inn. "We shall beat them yet, do not fear. Unless some

great and extraordinary error is committed on our side, or some

inconceivable piece of good fortune occurs upon theirs, they must be

defeated, as they were at Lewes."

"But I see," said his companion, "that the Earl has proclaimed----"

"Not the Earl, but the King," interrupted the old lord--"it is the King

who has proclaimed Gloucester and all his adherents traitors; but that

makes very little difference. In contentions like these, every man is

called a traitor in his turn, whatever side he takes; and as for those

who have gone over to the enemy, do not let their defection alarm you.

It is better always to have an open enemy than a false friend; and a

wise general gives all cowards and waverers a prompt order to quit the

ranks of his army, not only as a useless, but an injurious

incumbrance."

Such cheerful words, and a few gallant acts performed in a casual

skirmish here and there, kept up the spirits of the soldiery in

Hereford and the neighbouring towns, till at length such a number of

men were collected, as seemed to justify De Montfort in taking the

field, although the army of the Prince might be, perhaps, by one-half

more numerous than his own.

The movements of the great Earl after marching out of Hereford, became

of a strange and incongruous character, which greatly puzzled and

embarrassed many of his best supporters, and which have not been

clearly understood even in our own time; but De Montfort's countenance

remained calm and tranquil, even in the midst of what seemed, to

ordinary observers, checks and reverses; and it was remarked, that the

two or three noblemen who were in his most intimate councils,

maintained the same serene aspect, whatever circumstances occurred.

At the head of a large force, Edward interposed between the army of the

Lords Commissioners and London, moving as it moved, and practising with

consummate art, the science of strategy, as it was known in those days,

with the evident purpose of keeping his adversary at a distance from

his resources, without giving him battle, exactly at his own time and

place. De Montfort, in the meantime, affected to man[oe]uvre skilfully

for the purpose of passing Edward's superior force without fighting,

and making his way direct to London. But in all these operations, the

Prince seemed to have the advantage, turning his opponent at every

passage, as the greyhound does the hare.

Many facts have since been discovered, which have induced modern

historians to suppose that De Montfort sought merely to amuse his

adversary; but, at the time, two circumstances only, led the closer

observers in the Earl of Leicester's camp to believe that that great

man had a covert object in view, and that he was not actually so

completely frustrated by his opponent as appeared upon the surface. The

first was, that perfect equanimity to which we have alluded, and which

he maintained under every apparent reverse. The second, was a degree of

anxious impatience, which manifested itself upon the arrival of many of

the messengers who were constantly coming and going between his camp

and the south-eastern parts of the country. These facts, in those who

remarked them, created a suspicion that the Earl was waiting for

reinforcements, not choosing to risk a battle till they had joined him;

and at length a circumstance occurred which confirmed this opinion, and

quieted the anxiety of many who had begun to fear that ill success was

hanging over the very commencement of their career.

Towards the middle of July, the army approached the small town of

Newport, after having attacked and taken Uske, which was feebly

defended by some of the Earl of Gloucester's adherents. It seemed

evidently the intention of De Montfort and his councillors to cross the

Severn, a few miles above Newport, and take possession of Bristol; and

orders to that effect had been actually given. Few vessels, however,

capable of transporting the forces of the Earl, were found at the spot

where De Montfort had ordered them to be collected, and Edward himself

was known to be in the neighbourhood. But several ships and galleys of

a considerable size were to be seen moored at the opposite side; and

Hugh de Monthermer, who commanded an advance party, threw himself into

a passage boat with a small force, and crossed the estuary towards a

point where he believed he could make good his defence, while he

dispatched the vessels to the opposite shore, to bring over the main

army of the Earl.

His proceedings, as far as they were suffered to go, proved entirely

successful. He effected his landing, repulsed a body of the enemy who

attempted to dislodge him, and secured a place of disembarkation for

the rest of the forces; when, to his surprise, while he was

endeavouring to induce the seamen in the other vessels to cross to the

Welsh shore, a messenger reached him, in a small row-boat, commanding

his immediate return.

Hugh obeyed at once; and, proceeding to the head-quarters of De

Montfort, he found his uncle and Lord Ralph Basset in conference with

the Earl of Leicester. The young nobleman was about to explain the

motives of his conduct, but De Montfort stopped him, saying--"You did

quite right, my young friend; but Prince Edward and I, you must know,

are as two chess-players, where the game is life and power, and neither

he nor I must hazard one rash move, if we would avoid destruction. I

know my own game--he is not aware of it; and it is necessary that he

should not be so till the last moment."

These words were heard by many of the gentlemen round, and rumour soon

carried them through the whole host--one person repeating them in one

manner, and another in another, but all implying the same thing--that

De Montfort had some dark secret purpose in view; and such was the

confidence of the soldiery in their leader, that they never doubted

success would attend him, whatever that purpose was.

An immediate change of movements then took place. Suddenly turning into

South Wales, the army ravaged a district belonging to some of the

adherents of Gloucester; and in his progress, De Montfort entered into

a treaty with several of the Native Welsh princes, by which he obtained

the assistance of a considerable body of their light armed troops. A

short pause of total inactivity next succeeded, and the Earl remained

encamped for two or three days on the banks of the river Lug,

apparently with the purpose of giving some repose to his forces, in the

midst of the heats of July. Messengers, however, were continually

coming and going; the Earl was constantly employed, either in writing

or in training the troops to various military evolutions; and, after

all the camp except the sentinels were sound asleep, a light was seen

burning in his tent till two or three in the morning. "He used his

nights," says a historian of those times, "more for thought and labour,

than for sleep."

During the greater part of each day, and often during these nocturnal

vigils, the old Earl of Monthermer and the Lord le Despenser remained

with De Montfort, sometimes consulting with him, sometimes writing in

the same tent, sometimes examining the rude maps of that period,

measuring distances and tracing out lines, but not one word did either

of them utter, even to their nearest and dearest relations, in regard

to the plans and purposes of the general.

At length, one night towards eleven o'clock, while the army was what

was both technically and literally, "in the field," Hugh de Monthermer

received a summons, written in the hand of De Montfort himself,

desiring his immediate presence, The last words were, "Bring your dwarf

page with you."

Tangel was accordingly roused from the corner in which he slept, and

followed Hugh to the quarters of the Earl, whom they found sitting in

the outer tent in company with two or three noblemen. The flap of the

canvas was drawn back on either side, in order to admit what fresh air

could be found in a sultry night of summer, and at one end of a table,

round which the assembled nobles were seated, appeared a man, dusty

with travelling and dressed in the garb of a Yorkshire forester.

"Here is a letter for you, my Lord Hugh," said De Montfort, "enclosed

in one to myself;" and he handed a small packet to Hugh de Monthermer,

tied, as was then customary, and fastened with yellow wax.

Hugh took it, but before he broke the seal or cut the silk, he advanced

to the table and examined the outside of the letter carefully by the

light of one of the lamps.

"Something seems to strike you as extraordinary," said De Montfort.

"What is the matter?"

"I will tell your lordship presently," replied Hugh; and severing the

silk with his dagger, he read the contents.

"This is good news as far as it goes," he said at length in a low tone;

"I find that my good friend Ralph Harland is on his road to join us,

together with a certain forest friend of ours," he added, turning

towards his uncle, "with some seven hundred bold yeomen and foresters

of York and Nottingham, and more will follow. They are already far

advanced on their way in Staffordshire.--But I cannot help thinking, my

good lord," he added, raising his voice, "that this letter has been

opened and read before it reached my hands."

As the young nobleman spoke he fixed his eyes on the messenger, who was

somewhat pale before, but became paler still when he heard the last

words.

"I will swear upon the blessed rood!" he cried, "that I have never

opened the packet, but brought it safely hither, as I was told."

"Who told you to bring it?" asked De Montfort, fixing his stern eyes

upon him.

The man hesitated a moment, and then replied, "Robin of Barnesdale."

"What makes you think it has been opened, Hugh?" demanded the Earl of

Monthermer.

"Why, my dear uncle," answered the young nobleman, "this wax is yellow,

but at the side of it is a stain of green, as if at first it had been

sealed with another colour."

"Can our friend Robin write?" inquired De Montfort.

"Yea!" cried a shrill voice from behind Hugh de Monthermer, "as well as

a Florentine reed or a turkey's quill in the hand of an Oxford clerk."

"We shall soon know more, my lord," said Hugh de Monthermer; "but this

letter is not Robin's writing, this is from Ralph Harland the

franklin."

"But this," replied the Earl, laying his hand upon another

letter--"this purports to be from the bold forester, praying me to send

you with some men-at-arms to reinforce them as they come, seeing that

Gloucester threatens them, and they are afraid to proceed."

"That shows it to be a forgery at once," said Hugh, in a low voice to

Leicester; "Robin never seeks aid of any man. There is treachery

somewhere, my lord; but we have means at hand of convicting this

fellow.--Now, sir," he continued, "tell me, and tell me true, who sent

you hither; and, beware! for if you deceive me, it may cost your life."

"I have told you already," answered the man, doggedly.

"Well then, stand forward, my little magician," cried Hugh, laying his

hand upon Tangel's head. "We hear of Eastern talismans, my lord,

whereby truth and falsehood are discovered, as gold and alloy by the

touchstone; and in this boy I have such a human talisman, who will soon

tell us how much verity there is in the fellow's tale. Now, Tangel,

look at him well, and say if he came from Robin Hood?"

"No," answered the dwarf, well pleased with the importance of his

functions, and entering fully into the spirit of his master's figure of

speech--"Hark! I hear Robin deny him, and say he never yet set eyes

upon him." Then tugging the young nobleman's sleeve he whispered the

words, "Go on!--ask me more!"

"And now, Tangel," continued Hugh, "can you tell me whose man he is?"

"Right well," replied the dwarf, fixing his keen gaze upon the pale

face of the messenger; and then speaking slowly, he added, "He is

Prince Edward's."

A slight smile came upon the man's countenance for a moment; but Tangel

went on almost without a pause, watching him keenly as he spoke. "He is

Prince Edward's by the Earl of Gloucester, and the Earl of Gloucester's

by Richard de Ashby. Ha! ha! ha! I hear them laughing, when they think

how they will take in De Montfort, and lead the Lord Hugh into a

trap--and he hears them, too! Look at his face--look at his face!"

Certainly that face was now as bloodless as the visage of the dead.

"Take him away!" said De Montfort, in a stern tone--"take him away, and

hang him on the first tree!"

"I will confess--I will confess," cried the man, falling upon his

knees. "Spare my life, and I will confess!"

"It is your only hope of safety," replied the Earl; "tell the whole

truth, and you shall be spared--out with it at once, and without

hesitation!"

"Well, then," said the detected impostor, in a whining tone, "I confess

I am Sir Richard de Ashby's man!" and he went on to tell how a jolly

monk, passing through a village in the neighbourhood of Worcester, and

making merry with some soldiers, had been recognised by one of the

servants of Richard de Ashby, and instantly arrested. On searching him

strictly, the letter from Ralph Harland to Hugh de Monthermer had been

found, wrapped in leather, between his sandal and the sole of his foot,

and a plan was instantly formed, both for cutting off the party of the

young franklin and Robin Hood, and also for leading Hugh de Monthermer

into an ambuscade. "The Earl of Gloucester and Roger Mortimer," he

said, "had been made acquainted with the plot, but not the Prince."

"Take him away!" said De Montfort, after the story was told--"Take him

away, and guard him strictly! We may have occasion to account with

these gentlemen at some future time.--Now here is an opportunity," he

continued, as soon as the pretended yeoman was removed, "which some men

would seize, for cutting off whatever troops the rebels may detach in

execution of their pitiful schemes, but I think, my good lords, we must

not waste our strength upon skirmishes. At any moment, we may have to

act suddenly with our whole force, and therefore we must cast away the

occasion that now presents itself of lopping off a limb from our enemy.

Nevertheless, we must not forget the safety of our friends; some

faithful messenger must be sent at once to meet the reinforcement from

Nottingham and Yorkshire, and give them notice to take a circuit

through Shropshire. Shrewsbury is ours, and all the country round; so,

on that road, they will be safe. Have you any one you can send?"

Hugh looked at the dwarf, and the boy clapped his hands gladly,

exclaiming, "Let me go--let me go!"

"So be it, then!" said Hugh, "I will provide him with the means at

once, my lord. He had better have no letter but a purse well-filled,

and a swift horse. He will not fail a word of the message----

"Hark!" cried De Montfort, "there is a sound of galloping from the

other side of the river! The messengers, at length, I trust.--Do you

know your errand, boy?"

"Right well, great man," answered the dwarf, "and I will not fail

either in speed or truth."

"What, ho!--stand!--who goes there?" demanded the sentinels, who were

placed about fifty yards from De Montfort's tent.

"A friend!" was the reply.

"Stand, friend, and dismount!" cried the sentinel.

"Letters," answered the other voice--"letters from the Lord Simon de

Montfort, to his father, the most noble Earl of Leicester."

"Ha!" exclaimed Leicester, starting up, with his whole face beaming

with satisfaction, "At length!--Let him advance!" he shouted--"Let him

advance!" and a moment after, coming forward to the opening of the

tent, a man, pale, haggard, and worn, presented himself, bearing a

small packet in his hand.

"This is to your lordship, from your son," he said; "I left him well,

at Oxford, not many hours ago, with thirty thousand men in arms, all

ready to defy the world, on behalf of De Montfort."

Too eager to make any reply, the Earl of Leicester took the packet,

tore it open, and read--"All is right!" he cried at length, rising

with a well pleased smile, and turning to the gentlemen on his right.

"Now, my good lords--now, the moment for action has come. To you,

Monthermer--to you, Le Despenser, thanks--many thanks, for those wise

and prudent counsels which have cast cool patience upon my own somewhat

too impetuous nature, and enabled me to resist my own inclination to

advance. Here have we amused these rebel lords, and the infatuated

Prince, in needless marches and counter-marches, while my son has

raised the country behind them, and is already at Oxford with an

overwhelming force. He, on the one side,--and I on the other, we have

them in a net; or, even if they escape from the toils that are around

them, our forces united will be irresistible, and we will drive them to

fight, to surrender, or to flee the land. Let every noble lord give

instant orders in his own quarter of the camp, to make ready for our

advance an hour before daylight; and you, my Lord Hugh, must now direct

your messenger to lead our friends from Nottingham, by Clebury and

Wire Forest, on towards Worcester, keeping a keen look-out for the

enemy; but, doubtless, ere they arrive we shall have cleared the

country.--You have brought me good tidings," he continued, addressing

the messenger, "go to my steward, let him provide for you, and

to-morrow a hundred marks shall be your reward.---Now, for a few hours,

my lords, good night--good night!"

By daybreak the next morning, every tent was struck, and the main body

of the army had passed the Lug. De Montfort still advanced with great

care and caution, throwing out scouts in all directions, and never

making a movement which exposed any part of his force to sudden attack.

But not an enemy Wad now to be met with. The whole country, as he

advanced towards Worcester, was clear, and it seemed evident to all

that Edward had become aware of his danger, and was endeavouring to

escape from it.

On the evening of St. Peter's day, in the year 1265, De Montfort

reached a magnificent country palace of the Bishop of Worcester,

called, in the language of the time, "Kemestoia, or Kematow," from

which, in all probability, the name Kemsey is derived. It was

surrounded by an extensive park, reserved for the chase; and therein,

or in a small neighbouring village, the army lodged during the night,

while the head-quarters of the general and his royal prisoner were in

the manor, or palace of the bishop. The distance from Worcester was

only three miles, but still no tidings reached the army of Prince

Edward's movements.

About seven o'clock, however, a letter was received by De Montfort

from his eldest son, who was at the head of the large body of men,

marching from Oxford to reinforce him; but when he opened it and read

the date, his brow became clouded, and he muttered to himself,

"Kenilworth--Kenilworth! That is a great mistake! What does he in

Kenilworth?"

On reading on, he found that the letter had been written just after a

long night's watching in the fields to intercept the army of Prince

Edward, which was said to be flying from Worcester, and that the young

nobleman proposed to march on to join him on the Friday following,

concluding that the Prince had made his escape.

De Montfort mused, after he had perused the letter twice, and then

murmured, "There is no help for it--there is no help for it! We must

onward to Evesham, with all speed--Edward flying, with a large force at

his command, Worcester in his power, Gloucester garrisoned by his

troops--Dean Forest near! No, no, no! That is not likely! Edward was

not made to fly.--We must guard against surprise--there is something

under this!" and ringing a small hand-bell which stood upon his table,

he continued aloud; as soon as one of his officers appeared, "Double

the guards at every avenue of the park--throw out some fifty horse

archers on the road to Worcester, and barricade the farther end

of the village,--give those orders quickly, and then come back

for a letter, after directing a horse and mail to make ready for

Kenilworth.--Kenilworth!" he added, musing, "What had he to do at

Kenilworth? Hark ye!" he proceeded, once more addressing the man--"Get

some diligent fellows, who do not fear for their necks, to make their

way into Worcester as soon as the gates are open, and bring me tidings

of what is going on--promise them high wages--we must have news."

The officer departed, and De Montfort put his hand upon his brow,

repeating, to himself, "What had he to do at Kenilworth?--My heed

aches," he continued; "ere long, perchance, it may cease to ache for

ever!"

Day had dawned about an hour when, by his permission, and of the spies

who, as we have seen, had been sent into Worchester, was admitted to

the chamber of the Earl of Leicester, whom he found just putting on his

steel hauberk, proposing soon to set forth upon his march.

"I have had a narrow escape, my lord!" cried the scout; "all the rest

are taken."

"But the news--the news!" exclaimed De Montfort, with a degree of

heedlessness for human life which most veteran warriors acquire--"the

news! What did you learn?"

"Little or nothing, my lord," answered the man, somewhat sullenly. "I

heard my companions ordered to be hanged, and saw Prince Edward's

troops arriving in haste and disarray, after a long night march. But I

could only save myself by speed, and therefore could learn nothing

more."

"It is enough--it is enough!" cried De Montfort. "There, fellow, is

your reward!--Edward arriving in disarray at Worcester!--That is

enough! Now, on to Evesham with all speed--join my boy's forces, and

then return to crush this nest of hornets with my foot!"

He spoke proud and exultingly. Ah, little did he know that at that

moment his son's forces were defeated and dispersed, thirteen of his

gallant barons killed, and a whole host of noble prisoners following

the army of Edward into Worcester!