The third day after the arrival of
the Earl of Evesham there was a great banquet given
by the King of France to King Richard and his principal
nobles.
Among those present was the Earl of
Evesham, and Cuthbert as his page followed him to
the great tent where the banquet was prepared.
Here, at the top of the tent, on a
raised dais, sat the King of France, surrounded by
his courtiers.
The Earl of Evesham, having been conducted
by the herald to the dais, paid his compliments to
the king, and was saluted by him with many flattering
words.
The sound of a trumpet was heard,
and Richard of England, accompanied by his principal
nobles, entered.
It was the first time that Cuthbert had seen the king.
Richard was a man of splendid stature
and of enormous strength. His appearance was
in some respects rather Saxon than Norman, for his
hair was light and his complexion clear and bright.
He wore the moustache and pointed beard at that time
in fashion; and although his expression was generally
that of frankness and good humour, there might be observed
in his quick motions and piercing glances signs of
the hasty temper and unbridled passion which went
far to wreck the success of the enterprise upon which
he was embarked.
Richard possessed most of the qualities
which make a man a great king and render him the idol
of his subjects, especially in a time of semi-civilization,
when personal prowess is placed at the summit of all
human virtues. In all his dominions there was
not one man who in personal conflict was a match for
his king.
Except during his fits of passion,
King Richard was generous, forgiving, and royal in
his moods. He was incapable of bearing malice.
Although haughty of his dignity, he was entirely free
from any personal pride, and while he would maintain
to the death every right and privilege against another
monarch, he could laugh and joke with the humblest
of his subjects on terms of hearty good fellowship.
He was impatient of contradiction, eager to carry
out whatever he had determined upon; and nothing enraged
him so much as hesitation or procrastination.
The delays which were experienced in the course of
the Crusade angered him more than all the opposition
offered by the Saracens, or than the hardships through
which the Christian host had to pass.
At a flourish of trumpets all took
their seats at dinner, their places being marked for
them by a herald, whose duty it was to regulate nicely
the various ranks and dignities.
The Earl of Evesham was placed next
to a noble of Brabant. Cuthbert took his place
behind his lord and served him with wines and meats,
the Brabant being attended by a tall youth, who was
indeed on the verge of manhood.
As the dinner went on the buzz of
conversation became fast and furious. In those
days men drank deep, and quarrels often arose over
the cups. From the time that the dinner began,
Cuthbert noticed that the manner of Sir de Jacquelin
Barras, Count of Brabant, was rude and offensive.
It might be that he was accustomed
to live alone with his retainers, and that his manners
were rude and coarse to all. It might be that
he had a special hostility to the English. At
any rate, his remarks were calculated to fire the
anger of the earl.
He began the conversation by wondering
how a Norman baron could live in a country like England,
inhabited by a race but little above pigs.
The earl at once fired up at this,
for the Normans were now beginning to feel themselves
English, and to resent attacks upon a people for whom
their grandfathers had entertained contempt.
He angrily repelled the attack upon
them by the Brabant knight, and asserted at once that
the Saxons were every bit as civilized, and in some
respects superior, to the Normans or French.
The ill-feeling thus begun at starting
clearly waxed stronger as dinner went on. The
Brabant knight drank deeply, and although his talk
was not clearly directed against the English, yet
he continued to throw out innuendoes and side attacks,
and to talk with a vague boastfulness, which greatly
irritated Sir Walter.
Presently, as Cuthbert was about to
serve his master with a cup of wine, the tall page
pushed suddenly against him, spilling a portion of
the wine over his dress.
“What a clumsy child!” he said scoffingly.
“You are a rough and ill-mannered
loon,” Cuthbert said angrily. “Were
you in any other presence I would chastise you as you
deserve.”
The tall page burst into a mocking laugh.
“Chastise me!” he said.
“Why, I could put you in my pocket for a little
hop-of-my-thumb as you are.”
“I think,” said Sir Jacquelin-for
the boys’ voices both rose loud-to
the earl, “you had better send that brat home
and order him to be whipped.”
“Sir count,” said the
earl, “your manners are insolent, and were we
not engaged upon a Crusade, it would please me much
to give you a lesson on that score.”
Higher and higher the dispute rose,
until some angry word caught the ear of the king.
Amid the general buzz of voices King
Phillip rose, and speaking a word to King Richard,
moved from the table, thus giving the sign for the
breaking up of the feast.
Immediately afterwards a page touched
the earl and Sir Jacquelin upon the shoulder, and
told them that the kings desired to speak with them
in the tent of the King of France.
The two nobles strode through the
crowd, regarding each other with eyes much like those
of two dogs eager to fly at each other’s throat.
“My lords, my lords,”
said King Phillip when they entered, “this is
against all law and reason. For shame, to be brawling
at my table. I would not say aught openly, but
methinks it is early indeed for the knights and nobles
engaged in a common work to fall to words.”
“Your Majesty,” said the
Earl of Evesham, “I regret deeply what has happened.
But it seemed, from the time we sat down to the meal,
that this lord sought to pass a quarrel upon me, and
I now beseech your Majesty that you will permit us
to settle our differences in the lists.”
King Richard gave a sound of assent,
but the King of France shook his head gravely.
“Do you forget,” he said,
“the mission upon which you are assembled here?
Has not every knight and noble in these armies taken
a solemn oath to put aside private quarrels and feuds
until the holy sepulchre is taken? Shall we at
this very going off show that the oath is a mere form
of words? Shall we show before the face of Christendom
that the knights of the cross are unable to avoid
flying at each other’s throats, even while on
their way to wrest the holy sepulchre from the infidel?
No, sirs, you must lay aside your feuds, and must
promise me and my good brother here that you will
keep the peace between you until this war is over.
Whose fault it was that the quarrel began I know not.
It may be that my Lord of Brabant was discourteous.
It may be that the earl here was too hot. But
whichever it be, it matters not.”
“The quarrel, sire,” said
Sir Jacquelin, “arose from a dispute between
our pages, who were nigh coming to blows in your Majesty’s
presence. I desired the earl to chide the insolence
of his varlet, and instead of so doing he met my remarks
with scorn.”
“Pooh, pooh,” said King
Richard, “there are plenty of grounds for quarrel
without two nobles interfering in the squabbles of
boys. Let them fight; it will harm no one.
By-the-bye, your Majesty,” he said, turning to
the King of France with a laugh, “if the masters
may not fight, there is no reason in the world why
the varlets should not. We are sorely dull
for want of amusement. Let us have a list to-morrow,
and let the pages fight it out for the honour of their
masters and their nations.”
“It were scarce worth while
to have the lists set for two boys to fight,”
said the King of France.
“Oh, we need not have regular
lists,” said King Richard. “Leave
that matter in my hands. I warrant you that if
the cockerels are well plucked, they will make us
sport. What say you, gentlemen?”
The Brabant noble at once assented,
answering that he was sure that his page would be
glad to enter the lists; and the earl gave a similar
assent, for he had not noticed how great was the discrepancy
between the size of the future combatants.
“That is agreed, then,”
said King Richard joyously. “I will have
a piece of ground marked out on the edge of the camp
to-morrow morning. It shall be kept by my men-at-arms,
and there shall be a raised place for King Phillip
and myself, who will be the judges of the conflict.
Will they fight on foot or on horse?”
“On foot, on foot,” said
the King of France. “It would be a pity
that knightly exercises should be brought to scorn
by any failure on their part on horseback. On
foot at least it will be a fair struggle.”
“What arms shall they use?” the Brabant
knight asked.
“Oh, swords and battle-axes, of course,”
said King Richard with a laugh.
“Before you go,” King
Phillip said, “you must shake hands, and swear
to let the quarrel between you drop, at least until
after our return. If you still wish to shed each
other’s blood, I shall offer no hindrance thereto.”
The earl and Count Jacquelin touched
each other’s hands in obedience to the order,
went out of the tent together, and strode off without
a word in different directions.
“My dear lad,” the Earl
of Evesham said on entering his tent where his page
was waiting him, “this is a serious business.
The kings have ordered this little count and myself
to put aside our differences till after the Crusade,
in accordance with our oath. But as you have no
wise pledged yourself in the same fashion, and as
their Majesties fell somewhat dull while waiting here,
it is determined that the quarrel between me, and
between you and the count’s page, shall be settled
by a fight between you in the presence of the kings.”
“Well, sir,” Cuthbert
said, “I am glad that it should be, seeing the
varlet insulted me without cause, and purposely upset
the cup over me.”
“What is he like?” the
earl asked. “Dost think that you are a
fair match?”
“I doubt not that we are fair
match enough,” Cuthbert said. “As
you know, sir, I have been well trained to arms of
all kinds, both by my father and by the men-at-arms
at the castle, and could hold my own against any of
your men with light weapons, and have then no fear
that this gawky loon, twenty years old though he seems
to be, will bring disgrace upon me or discredit upon
my nation.”
“If thou thinkest so,”
the earl said, “the matter can go on. But
had it been otherwise, I would have gone to the king
and protested that the advantage of age was so great
that it would be murder to place you in the list together.”
“There is,” Cuthbert said,
“at most no greater difference between us than
between a strong man and a weak one, and these, in
the ordeal of battle, have to meet in the lists.
Indeed I doubt if the difference is so great, for
if he be a foot taller than I, methinks that round
the shoulders I should have the advantage of him.”
“Send hither my armourer,”
the earl said; “we must choose a proper suit
for you. I fear that mine would be of little use;
but doubtless there are some smaller suits among my
friends.”
“The simpler and lighter the
better,” Cuthbert said. “I’d
rather have a light coat of mail and a steel cap,
than heavy armour and a helmet that would press me
down and a visor through which I could scarcely see.
The lighter the better, for after all if my sword
cannot keep my head, sooner or later the armour would
fail to do so too.”
The armourer speedily arrived, and
the knights and followers of the earl being called
in and the case stated, there was soon found a coat
of fine linked mail, which fitted Cuthbert well.
As to the steel cap, there was no difficulty whatever.
“You must have a plume at least,”
the earl said, and took some feathers from his own
casque and fastened them in. “Will you want
a light sword and battle-axe?”
“No,” Cuthbert said, “my
arms are pretty well used to those of the men-at-arms.
I could wield my father’s sword, and that was
a heavy one.”
The lightest of the earl’s weapons
were chosen, and it was agreed that all was now ready
for the conflict to-morrow.
In the morning there was a slight bustle in the camp.
The news that a fight was to take
place between an English and a Brabant page, by the
permission of the Kings of England and France, that
their Majesties were to be present, and that all was
to be conducted on regular rules, caused a stir of
excitement and novelty in the camp.
Nowhere is life duller than among
a large body of men kept together for any time under
canvas, and the thought of a combat of this novel kind
excited general interest.
In a meadow at a short distance from
the camp, a body of King Richard’s men-at-arms
marked off an oval space of about an acre. Upon
one side of this a tent was pitched for the kings,
and a small tent was placed at each end for the combatants.
Round the enclosure the men-at-arms formed the ring,
and behind them a dense body of spectators gathered,
a place being set aside for nobles, and others of
gentle blood.
At the hour fixed the Kings of England
and France arrived together. King Richard was
evidently in a state of high good humour, for he preferred
the clash of arms and the sight of combat to any other
pleasure.
The King of France, on the other hand,
looked grave. He was a far wiser and more politic
king than Richard; and although he had consented to
the sudden proposal, yet he felt in his heart that
the contest was a foolish one, and that it might create
bad feeling among the men of the two nationalities
whichever way it went. He had reserved to himself
the right of throwing down the baton when the combat
was to cease, and he determined to avail himself of
this right, to put a stop to the conflict before either
party was likely to sustain any deadly injury.
When the monarchs had taken their
places the trumpeters sounded their trumpets, and
the two combatants advanced on foot from their ends
of the lists. A murmur of surprise and dissatisfaction
broke from the crowd.
“My Lord of Evesham,”
the king said angrily to the earl, who with Count
Jacquelin was standing by the royal party, “thou
shouldst have said that the difference between the
two was too great to allow the combat to be possible.
The Frenchman appears to be big enough to take your
page under his arm and walk off with him.”
The difference was indeed very striking.
The French champion was arrayed in a full suit of
knightly armour-of course without the gold
spurs which were the distinguishing mark of that rank-and
with his helmet and lofty plume of feathers he appeared
to tower above Cuthbert, who, in his close-fitting
steel cap and link armour, seemed a very dwarf by the
side of a giant.
“It is not size, sire, but muscle
and pluck will win in a combat like this. Your
Majesty need not be afraid that my page will disgrace
me. He is of my blood, though the kinship is
not close. He is of mixed Saxon and Norman strain,
and will, believe me, do no discredit to either.”
The king’s brow cleared, for
in truth he was very proud of his English nationality,
and would have been sorely vexed to see the discomfiture
of an English champion, even though that champion
were a boy.
“Brother Phillip,” he
said, turning to the king, “I will wager my gold
chain against yours on yonder stripling.”
“Methinks that it were robbery
to take your wager,” the King of France said.
“The difference between their bulk is disproportionate.
However, I will not baulk your wish. My chain
against yours.”
The rule of the fight was that they
were to commence with Swords, but that either could,
if he chose, use his battle-axe.
The fight need scarcely be described
at length, for the advantage was all one way.
Cuthbert was fully a match in strength for his antagonist,
although standing nigh a foot shorter. Constant
exercise, however, had hardened his muscles into something
like steel, while the teaching that he had received
had embraced all that was then known of the use of
arms.
Science in those days there was but
little of; it was a case rather of hard, heavy hitting,
than of what we now call swordsmanship.
With the sword Cuthbert gained but
slight advantage over his adversary, whose superior
height enabled him to rain blows down upon the lad,
which he was with difficulty enabled to guard; but
when the first paroxysm of his adversary’s attack
had passed, he took to the offensive, and drove his
opponent back step by step. With his sword, however,
he was unable to cut through the armour of the Frenchman,
but in the course of the encounter, guarding a severe
blow aimed at him, his sword was struck from his hand,
and he then, seizing his axe, made such play with it
that his foe dropped his own sword and took to the
same weapon.
In this the superior height and weight
of his opponent gave him even a greater advantage
than with the sword, and Cuthbert knowing this, used
his utmost dexterity and speed to avoid the sweeping
blows showered upon him. He himself had been
enabled to strike one or two sweeping strokes, always
aiming at the same place, the juncture of the visor
with the helmet. At last the Frenchman struck
him so heavy a blow that it beat down his guard and
struck his steel cap from his head, bringing him to
the knee. In an instant he was up, and before
his foe could be again on guard, he whirled his axe
round with all its force, and bringing it just at
the point of the visor which he had already weakened
with repeated blows, the edge of the axe stove clean
through the armour, and the page was struck senseless
to the ground.
A great shout broke from the English
portion of the soldiery as Cuthbert leant over his
prostrate foe, and receiving no answer to the question
“Do you yield?” rose to his feet, and
signified to the squire who had kept near that his
opponent was insensible.
King Richard ordered the pursuivant
to lead Cuthbert to the royal enclosure.
“Thou art a brave lad and a
lusty,” the king said, “and hast borne
thee in the fight as well as many a knight would have
done. Wert thou older, I would myself dub thee
knight; and I doubt not that the occasion will yet
come when thou wilt do as good deeds upon the bodies
of the Saracens as thou hast upon that long-shanked
opponent of thine. Here is a gold chain; take
it as a proof that the King of England holds that you
have sustained well the honour of his country; and
mark me, if at any time you require a boon, bring
or send me that chain, and thou shall have it freely.
Sir Walter,” he said, turning to the earl, “in
this lad thou hast a worthy champion, and I trust
me that thou wilt give him every chance of distinguishing
himself. So soon as thou thinkst him fit for the
knightly rank I myself will administer the accolade.”