In Convent Walls Part 11

But now to have back to the hall of Bristol Castle, lest Jack, coming in to look stealthily over my shoulder as he doth betimes, should say I have won again into the Annals of Cicely.

Well, all the prelates and n.o.bles were full witched by Dame Isabel the Queen, and agreed unto all her plans, the which came ready cut and dried, as though all had been thought on and settled long afore.

Verily, I dare say it so had. First, they elected the Duke of Aquitaine to the regency--which of course was the self thing as electing his mother, since he, being a mere lad, was but her mouthpiece, and was buxom [submissive] unto her in all things: and all present sware to fulfil his pleasure, as though he had been soothly king, under his privy seal, for there was no seal meet for the regency. And incontinent [immediately] thereafter, the said Duke, speaking doubtless the pleasure of the Queen, commanded Sir Hugh Le Despenser the father to be brought to his trial in the hall of the Castle.

Then was he led in, an old white-haired man, [See note in Appendix, on the Despensers], stately and venerable, who stood up before the Council as I would think none save innocent man should do, and looked the Queen straight in the face. He was not witched with her gramary; and soothly I count in all that hall he was the sole n.o.ble that escaped the spell.

A brave man was he, of great probity, prudent in council, valiant in war: maybe something too readily swayed by other folks (the Queen except), where he loved them (which he did not her), and from this last point came all his misfortunes [Note 4].

Now stood he up to answer the charges laid against him (whereof there were nine), but answer such as man looked for made he none. He pa.s.sed all by as of no account, and went right to the heart and verity of the whole matter. I could not but think of a Prisoner before him who had answered nothing; and I crede he knew that in like case, "per invidiam tradidissent eum." [Note 5]. Moreover, he spake not to them that did the will of other, but to her that was at the core of the whole matter.

"Ah, Dame!" quoth he, bowing low his white, stately head, "G.o.d grant us fair trial and just judge; and if we may not find it in this world, we look for it in another."

I trust he found it in that other world--nay, I know he must have done.

But in this world did he not find it. Fair trial had he none; it was an end foregone from the beginning. And as to just judge--well, she is gone now to her judgment, and I will leave her there.

I had forgot to say in due order that my Lord of Arundel was he that was tried with him, but he suffered not till later. [This appears to be the case from comparison of the best authorities.] He, therefore, was had back to prison; but Sir Hugh was hung on the common gallows in his coat armour, in strong cords, and when he was cut down, after four days, his head was struck off and his quarters cast to the dogs. On whose soul G.o.d have mercy! Amen. In very deed, I think he deserved a better fate.

Secure am I, that many men be hung on gallows which might safely be left to die abed, and many more die abed that richly demerit the gallows. This world is verily a-crooked: I reckon it shall be smoothed out and set straight one day. There be that say that day shall last a thousand years; and soothly, taking into account all the work to be done ere the eve droppeth, it were small marvel an' it did so.

This done, we tarried not long at Bristol. Less than a month thereafter was the King taken at Neath Abbey in Wales, and all that yet obeyed him were either taken with him or dispersed. The news found the Queen at Hereford, whither she had journeyed from Bristol: and if I had yet a doubt left touching her very nature [real character], I think it had departed from me when I beheld how she received that news. Sir Thomas Le Blount, his Steward of the Household, was he that betrayed him: and may G.o.d pardon him easier than I could. But my Lord of Lancaster (whom I can pray G.o.d pardon with true heart, seeing he afterward repented bitterly), the Lord Zouche of Ashby, and Rhys ap Howel--these were they that took him. With him they took three other--Sir Hugh Le Despenser the son, and Archdeacon Baldok, and Sir Simon de Reading. The good Archdeacon, that was elect [_Bishop_ is understood] of Norwich, was delivered over to the tender mercies (which, as saith the Psalmist, were cruel) of that priest of Baal, the Bishop of Hereford, whom indeed I cannot call a priest of G.o.d, for right sure am I that G.o.d should never have owned him. If that a man serveth be whom he worshippeth, then was Sir Adam de Orleton, Bishop of Hereford, priest of Sathanas and none other. The King was had to Kenilworth Castle, in ward of my Lord of Lancaster--a good though mistaken man, that used him not ungently, yet kept him straitly. Sir Hugh and Sir Simon were brought to the Queen at Hereford, and I was in waiting when they came into her presence. I had but one glimmer of her face (being behind her) when she turned her head for a moment to bid me send Oliver de Nantoil to fetch my Lord of Lincoln to the presence: but if ever I beheld pictured in human eyes the devilish pa.s.sions of hate, malice, and furious purpose, I beheld them that minute in those lovely eyes of hers. Ay, they were lovely eyes: they could gleam soft as a dove's when she would, and they could shoot forth flames like a lioness robbed of her prey. Never saw I those eyes look fiercer nor eviller than that night when Sir Hugh Le Despenser stood a captive at her feet.

For him, he was full calm: stately as his father--he was comelier of the twain, yea, the goodliest man ever mine eyes lit on: but I thought not on that in that hour. His chief fault, man deemed, was pride: not the vanity that looketh for applause of man, but rather the lofty-mindedness that is sufficient to himself, and despiseth other. I beheld no trace thereof as he there stood. All that had been--all that was of earth and earthy--seemed to have dropped away from him: he was calm and tranquil as the sea on a summer eve when not a breath stirreth. Wala wa! we have all our sins: and what be we, to throw the sins of another in his face?

Sir Hugh did some ill deeds, belike; and so, G.o.d wot, hath done Cicely de Chaucombe; and whose sins of the twain were worser in His sight, He knoweth, not I. Verily, it was whispered that he had taint of heresy, the evillest thing that may be: but I trust that dread charge were untrue, and that he was but guilty of somewhat more pride and ambitious desires than other. Soothly, pride is one of the seven deadly sins-- pray G.o.d save us all therefrom!--yet is heresy, as the Church teacheth, an eighth deadlier than all the seven. And if holy Church hath the words of G.o.d, and is alonely guided of His Spirit, then must it be an awful and deadly sin to gainsay her bidding. There be that take in hand to question the same: whom holy Church condemneth. I Cicely cannot presume to speak thereof, not being a priest, unto whom alone it appertaineth to conceive such matter. 'Tis true, there be that say lay folk can as well conceive, and have as much right as any priest; but holy Church agreeth not therewith. G.o.d be merciful to us all, whereinsoever we do err!

But now was the Queen in a sore strait: for that precious treasure that had once been in her keeping--to wit, the Great Seal--was no longer with her. The King had the same; and she was fain to coax it forth of his keeping, the which she did by means of my said Lord of Hereford. I know not if it were needful, but until she had this done, did not Sir Hugh Le Despenser suffer.

It was at Hereford, the eve of Saint Katherine, that he died. I thank the saints I was not there; but I heard dread stories of them that were.

Dame Isabel de Lapyoun was in waiting that day; I think she was fittest for it.

I ween it was on that morrow, of the eve of Saint Katherine, that mine eyes first began to ope to what the Queen was in very deed. Wherefore was she present at that deed of blood? Dame Tiffany reckoned she deemed it her duty: and truly, to behold what man can deem his duty, is of the queerest things in this queer world. I never knew a cow that reckoned it duty to set her calf in peril, and herself tarry thereout; nor a dog that forsook his master's company by reason of his losing of worldly gear; nor an horse that told falsehoods to his own profit. I have wist men that would do all these things, and more; because, forsooth, it was their duty! Now, after what manner it could be duty to Dame Isabel the Queen to preside in her own person at the execution of Sir Hugh, that cannot I Cicely tell. Nay, the saints love us! what need was there of an execution at all? Sir Hugh was dying fast. Since he was taken would he never open his lips, neither to speak nor yet to eat; and that eve of Saint Katherine had seen his end, had they left him die in peace.

Veriliest, I wis not what he had done so much worser than other men, that so awesome an ensample should be made of him. I do trust the rumour was not true that ran of his heresy; for if so, then must not man pity him. And yet--

_Virgo sanctissima_! what is heresy? The good Lord wot.

My Lord of Lincoln was he, as I heard, which brought tidings to the Queen that Sir Thomas Wager had done him to wit Sir Hugh would die that day. Would die--whether man would or no. Holy Mary, the pity of it!

Had I been Sir Thomas, never word would I have spoken till the breath was clean gone out of him, and then, if man coveted vengeance, let him take it on the silent dust. But no sooner was it known to the Queen--to her, a woman and a mother!--than she gave command to have the scaffold run up with all speed, and that dying man drawn of an hurdle through the city that all men might behold, with trumpets going afore, and at last hanged of the gallows till he were dead. Oh, the pity of it! the pity of it!

The command was obeyed--so far as man could obey. But ere the agony were full over, G.o.d Almighty stepped in, and bare him away from what she would have had him suffer. When they put him on the hurdle, he lay as though he wist not; when they twined a crown of nettles and pressed it on his brow, he was as though he felt not; when, the torture over, they made ready to drag him to the gallows, they saw that he was dead. G.o.d cried to them, "Let be!"

G.o.d a.s.soil that dead man! Ay, maybe he shall take less a.s.soiling than hath done that dead woman.

Man said that when my Lord of Lincoln came to tell her of this matter, she was counting the silver in my Lord of Arundel his bags, that were confiscate, and had then been brought to her: and but a few days later, at Marcle, Sir William de Blount brought from the King the Great Seal in its leathern bag sealed with the privy seal, and delivered it unto the Queen and her Keeper [Chancellor] the Bishop of Norwich. Soothly, it seemed to me as though those canvas bags that held my Lord of Arundel's silver, and the white leathern bag that held the Great Seal, might be said to be tied together by a lace dipped in blood. And somewhat later, when we had reached Woodstock, was Sir Hugh Le Despenser's plate brought to the Wardrobe, that had been in the Tower with the Lady Alianora his wife--five cups and two ewers of silver, and twenty-seven cups and six ewers of gold; and his horses and hers delivered into the keeping of Adam le Ferrour, keeper of the Queen's horses: and his servants either cast adrift, or drafted, some of them, into the household of the Lord John of Eltham. Go to! saith man: was all this more than is usual in like case? Verily, nay: but should such things be usual in Christendom?

Was it for this our Lord came to found His Church--that Christian blood should thus treat his Christian brother? And if no, what can be said of such as called themselves His priests, and pa.s.sed by on the other side?--nay, rather, took into their own hands the arrows of Sathanas, and wounded their brother with their own fingers? "_Numquid adhaeret Tibi sedes iniquitatis_?" [Psalm 94, verse 20]. Might it not have been said to Dame Isabel the Queen like as Moses said to Korah, "Is it nothing to you that you have been joined to the King, and set by his side on the throne, and given favour in his eyes, so that he suffereth you to entreat him oftener and more effectually than any other, but you must needs covet the royal throne theself?" [Itself.]

Ah, what good to write such words, or to speak them? When man hath no fear of G.o.d before his eyes, what shall he regard the reasonings of men?

But the day of doom cometh, and that sure.

The morrow of that awesome day, to wit, Saint Katherine, departed we from Hereford, and came to Gloucester and Cirencester, going back on the road we had come. By Woodstock (where Dame Margery de Verdon joined us from Dover) we came to Wallingford: where was the Lord John of Eltham, that had come from London, and awaited the Queen his mother. So, by Reading and Chertsey, came we to Westminster Palace, on the fourth day of January [1327]. And here was Dame Alice de Lethegreve, mine honoured mother, whom I was full fain to see after all the long and somewhat weariful time that I had been away from England.

My mother would have me tell her all I had seen and heard, in the which she oft stayed me by tears and lamentations. And saith she--

"I bid thee well to note, Cicely, how much ill can come of the deeds of one woman. Deeds, said I? Nay, but of the thoughts and feelings; for all deeds are but the flowers whereto man's thoughts be the seed. And forget not, daughter, that there must ever be one first thought that is the beginning of it all. O Cis, take thou heed of the first evil thought in thine heart, and pray G.o.d it lead not to a second. They that fear not G.o.d be p.r.o.ne to ask, What matter for thoughts? Deeds be the things that signify. My thoughts are mine own; who shall govern me therein? Ah, verily, who shall, without G.o.d doth, and thou dost? He that makes conscience of his thoughts, men reckon a great saint. I would say rather, he that maketh not conscience of his thoughts cannot serve G.o.d at all. Pray G.o.d rule thee in thine innermost heart; then shall thy deeds please Him, and thy life shall be a blessing to thy fellows."

"Dame," said I, "would you signify that the Queen is not ruled of G.o.d?"

"He governeth better than so, Cis," saith she.

"Yet is she Christian woman," quoth I.

"A Christian woman," made answer my mother, "is a woman that followeth Christ. And thou followest not Jack, Cis, when thou goest along one road, and Jack goeth another. Man may follow near or far; but his face must be set the same way. Christ's face was ever set to do the will of G.o.d. If thou do thy will, and I do mine, our faces be set contrary."

"Then must we turn us around," said I.

"Ay, and flat round, too," she saith. "When thou standest without Aldgate, ready to pa.s.s within, 'tis but a full little turn shall take thee up to Sh.o.r.editch on the right hand, or down Blanche Chappleton on the left. Thy feet shall be set scarce an inch different at beginning.

Yet pursue the roads, and the one shall land thee at York, and the other at Sandwich. Many a man hath reckoned he set forth to follow Christ, whose feet were scarce an inch out of the way. 'Go to,' quoth he; 'what can an inch matter? what difference shall it make?' Ah me, it maketh all the difference between Heaven and h.e.l.l, for the steps lead to diverse roads. Be well a.s.sured of the right road; and when thou so art, take heed to walk straight therein. Many a man hath turned a score out of the way, by reason that he walked a-crooked himself."

"Do we know alway when we walk straight?" said I.

"Thou hast thy Psalter and thine Evangelisterium," made she answer: "and thou hast G.o.d above. Make good use of the Guide and the map, and thou art not like to go far astray. And G.o.d pardon the souls that go astray!

Ay, G.o.d forgive us all!"

She sat and span a while, and said nought.

"Cicely," then quoth she, "I shall not abide here."

"Whither go you, Dame?"

"Like Abraham of old," she saith, "to the land which G.o.d shall show me.

If I could serve my dear master,--the lad that once lay in mine arms--by tarrying hither, I could bear much for his sake. But now can I do nought: and soothly I feel as though I could not bear to stand and look on. I can pray for him any whither. Cicely, this will go on. Man that setteth foot on slide shall be carried down it. Thou mayest choose to take or let be the first step; but oft-times thou canst not choose touching the second and all that be to follow. Or if thou yet canst choose, it shall be at an heavy cost that thou draw back thy foot. One small twinge may be all the penalty to-day, when an hour's deadly anguish shall not pay the wyte to-morrow. Thou lookest on me aswhasay, What mean you by this talk? I mean, dear heart, that she which hath entered on this road is like to pursue it to the bitter end. A bitter end it shall be--not alone to her. It means agony to him and all that love him: what maimer of agony G.o.d wot, and in His hand is the ell-wand to measure, and the balances to weigh. Lord! Thou wilt not blunder to give an inch too much, nor wilt Thou for all our greeting weigh one grain too little. Thou wilt not let us miss the right way, for the rough stones and the steep mountain-side. Thou hast trodden before us every foot of that weary road, and we need but to plant our steps in Thy footmarks, which we know well from all others by their blood-marked track. O blessed Jesu Christ! it is fair journeying to follow Thee, and Thou leadest Thy sheep safe to the fold of the Holy Land."

I mind her words well. For, woe is me! they were nearhand the last that ever I heard of her.

"Dame," said I, "do you bid me retreat belike?"

"Nay, daughter," quoth she, and smiled, "thou art no longer at my bidding. Ask thine husband, child."

So I told Jack what my mother had said. He sat and meditated thereon afore the fire, while I made ready my Christmas gown of blue kaynet guarded with stranling. [Note 6.]

"Sissot," saith he, his meditation ended, "I think Dame Alice speaks wisely."

"Then wouldst thou depart the Court, Jack?" said I.

"I? Nay, sweet heart. The young King hath about him no more true men than he needeth. And as I wait at his _coucher_, betimes I can drop a word in his ear that may, an' it please G.o.d, be to his profit. He is yet tender ground, and the seed may take root and thrive: and I am tough gnarled old root, that can thole a blow or twain, and a rough wind by now and then."

"Jack!" cried I, laughing. "'A tough gnarled old root,' belike! Thou art not yet of seven-and-thirty years, though I grant thee wisdom enough for seventy."

"I thank you heartily, Dame Cicely, for that your courtesy," quoth he, and made me a low reverence. "Ay, dear heart, a gnarled root of cross-grained elm, fit for a Yule log. I 'bide with the King, Sissot.

But thou wist, that sentence [argument] toucheth not thee, if thou desire to depart with Dame Alice. And maybe it should be the best for thee."

"I depart from the Court, Jack, on a pillion behind thee," said I, "and no otherwise. I say not I might not choose to dwell elsewhere the rather, if place were all that were in question; but to win out of ill company at the cost of thy company, were to be at heavier charge than my purse can compa.s.s. And seeing I am in my duty therein, I trust G.o.d shall keep me from evil and out of temptation."