The House of Walderne Part 22

As a squire, he could only go to the Holy Land in attendance upon some one else, nor could he carry the sword and belt of the dead man whom he was to represent. A knight must personate a knight.

Hence Hubert's words.

"It is for that purpose we have sent for thee," replied the earl.

"Thou must win thy spurs, and there is no likelihood of opportunity arising in this peaceful land (how little the earl thought what was in the near future), so thou must even go where blows are going."

"I am ready, my lord, and willing."

"The Earl of Hereford is about to return home, and will take thee with him to fight against the Welsh under his banner. Now what dost thou say to that?"

Hubert bent the knee to the new lord, with all that grace which he inherited from his Provencal blood. And sooth, my young readers, if you could have seen that eager face with that winning smile, and those brave bright eyes, you would have loved him, too, as the earl did; but for all that I do not think he had the sterling qualities of his friend Martin, who is rather my hero: but then I am not young now, or I might think differently.

We have not s.p.a.ce again to describe this portion of Hubert's life, upon which we now enter, in any detail. Suffice it to say he went to Hereford Castle with the earl, and was soon transferred to an outpost on the upper Wye, where he was at once engaged in deadly warfare with the fiercest of savages. For the Welsh, once the cultivated Britons, had degenerated into savagery. Bloodshed and fire raising amongst the hated "Saxons" (as they called all the English alike) were the amus.e.m.e.nt and the business of their lives, until Edward the First, of dire necessity, conquered and tamed them in the very next generation. Until then, the Welsh borders were a hundred times more insecure than the Cheviots. No treaties could bind the mountaineers. They took oaths of allegiance, and cheerfully broke them. "No faith with Saxons" was their motto.

These fields, these meadows once were ours, And sooth by heaven and all its powers, Think you we will not issue forth, To spoil the spoiler as we may, And from the robber rend the prey.

Even the payment of blackmail, so effectual with the Highlanders, did not secure the border counties from these flippant fighters, and in sooth Normans were much too proud for any such evasion of a warrior's duty.

There, then, our Hubert fleshed his maiden sword, within a week after his arrival at Llanystred Castle; and that in a fierce skirmish, wherein the fighting was all hand to hand, he slew his man.

But in these fights, where every one was brave, there was small opportunity for Hubert to gain personal distinction. A coward was very rare; as well expect a deer to be born amongst a race of tigers. There were, it is true, degrees of self devotion, and for a chance of distinguishing himself by self sacrifice Hubert longed.

And thus it came.

He had been sent from the castle on the Wye, which might well be called, like one in Sir Walter's tales, "Castle Dangerous," upon an errand to an outpost, and was returning by moonlight along the banks of the stream, there a rushing mountain torrent. It was a weird scene, the peaks of the Black Mountains rose up into the calm pellucid air of night, the solemn woods lined the further bank of the river, and extended to the bases of the hills. It was just the time and the hour when the wild, unconquered Celts were likely to make their foray upon the dwellers on the English side of the stream, if they could find a spot where they could cross.

About half a mile from Llanystred Castle, amidst the splash and dash of the water, Hubert distinguished some peculiar and unaccustomed sounds, like the murmur of many voices, in some barbarous tongue, all ll's and consonants.

He waited and listened.

Just below him roared and foamed the stream, and it so happened that a series of black rocks raised their heads above the swollen waters like still porpoises, at such distances as to afford lithesome people the chance of crossing, dry shod, when the water was low.

But it was a risk, for the river had all the strength of a cataract, and he who slipped would infallibly be carried down by the strong current and dashed against the rocks and drowned.

Here Hubert watched, clad in light mail was he, and he cunningly kept in the shadow.

Soon he saw a black moving ma.s.s opposite, and then the moonlight gleam upon a hundred spear tops. Did his heart fail him? No; the chance he had pined for was come. It was quite possible for one daring man to bid defiance to the hundred here, and prevent their crossing.

See, they come, and Hubert's heart beats loudly--the first is on the first stone, the others press behind. He, the primus, leaps on to the second rock, and so to the third, and still his place is taken, at every resting place he leaves, by his successor. Yes, they mean to get over, and to have a little blood letting and fire raising tonight, just for amus.e.m.e.nt.

And only one stout heart to prevent them. They do not see him until the last stepping stone is attained by the first man, and but one more leap needed to the sh.o.r.e, when a stern, if youthful, voice cries:

"Back, ye dogs of Welshmen!" and the first Celt falls into the stream, transfixed by Hubert's spear, transfixed as he made the final leap.

A sudden pause: the second man tries to leap so as to avoid the spear, his own similar weapon presented before him, but position gives Hubert advantage, and the second foe goes down the waves, dyeing them with his blood, raising his despairing hand, as he dies, out of the foaming torrent.

The third hesitates.

And now comes the real danger for Hubert: a flight of arrows across the stream--they rattle on his chain mail, and generally glance harmlessly off, but one or two find weak places, and although his vizor is down, Hubert knows that one unlucky, or, as the foe would say "lucky," shot penetrating the eyelet might end sight and life together. So he blows his horn, which he had scorned to do before.

He was but imperfectly clad in armour, and was soon bleeding in divers unprotected places; but there he stood, spear in hand, and no third person had dared to cross.

But when they heard the horn, feeling that the chance of a raid was going, the third sprang. With one foot he attained the bank, and as Hubert was rather dizzy from loss of blood, avoided the spear thrust. But the young Englishman drove the dagger, which he carried in the left hand, into his throat as he rose from the stream. The fourth leapt. Hubert was just in time with the spear. The fifth hesitated--the flight of arrows, intermitted for the moment, was renewed.

Just then up came Lord Walter, the eldest son of the earl, with a troop of lancers, and Hubert reeled to the ground from loss of blood, while the Welsh sullenly retreated.

They bore him to the castle. A few light wounds, which had bled profusely from the leg and arm, were all that was amiss. Hubert's ambition was attained, for he had slain four Welshmen with his own young hand. And those to whom "such things were a care" saw four lifeless, ghastly corpses circling for days round and round an eddy in the current below the castle, round and round till one got giddy and sick in watching them, but still they gyrated, and no one troubled to fish them out. They were a sign to friend and foe, a monument of our Hubert's skill in slaying "wildcats."

A few days later the Lord of Hereford arrived at the castle, and visited Hubert's sick chamber, where he brought much comfort and joy. A fine physician was that earl; Hubert was up next day.

And what was the tonic which had given such a fillip to his system, and hurried on his recovery? The earl purposed to confer upon him the degree he pined for, as soon as he could bear his armour.

At first any knight could make a knight. Now, to check the too great profusion of such flowers of chivalry, the power to confer the accolade was commonly restricted to the greater n.o.bles, and later still, as now, to royalty alone.

It was the eve of Saint Michael's Day, "the prince of celestial chivalry," as these fighting ancestors of ours used to say. It was wild and stormy, for the summer and autumn had been so wet that the crops were still uncarried through the country. The river below was rushing onward in high flood; here it came tumbling, there it rolled rumbling; here it leapt splashing, there it rushed dashing; like the water at Lodore; and seemed to shake the rocks on which Castle Llanystred was built.

And above, the clouds in emulous sport hurried over the skies, as if a foe were chasing them, in the shape of a southwestern blast.

So the nightfall came on, and Hubert went with the decaying light into the castle chapel, where he had to watch his arms all night, with fasting and prayer, spear in hand.

What a night of storm and wind it was on which our Hubert, ere he received knighthood, watched and kept vigil in the chapel. It reminded him of that night in the priory at Lewes, and from time to time weird sounds seemed to reach him in the pauses of the blast.

All but he were asleep, save the sentinels on the ramparts.

He thought of his father, and of the Frenchman, the Sieur de Fievrault, whose place and even name he was to a.s.sume. Once he thought he saw the figure of the slain Gaul before him, but he breathed a prayer and it disappeared.

How he welcomed the morning light.

The sun breaks forth, the light streams in, Hence, hence, ye shades, away!

Imagine our Hubert's joy, when, the following morning, Earl Simon quite unexpectedly arrived at the castle, and with him the Bishop of Hereford; come together to confer on important business of state with the Earl of Hereford, whom they had first sought at his own city, then followed to this outpost, where they learned from his people he had come to confer knighthood on some valiant squire.

The reader may also imagine how Earl Simon hoped that that valiant squire might prove to be Hubert. And lo! so it turned out.

Early in the morning our young friend was led to the bath, where he put off forever the garb of a squire, then laved himself in token of purification, after which he was vested in the garb and arms of knighthood. The under dress given to him was a close jacket of chamois leather, over which he put a mail shirt, composed of rings deftly fitted into each other, and very flexible. A breastplate had to be put on over this. And as each weapon or piece of armour was given, strange parallels were found between the temporal and spiritual warfare, which, save when knighthood was a.s.sumed with a distinctly religious purpose, would seem almost profane.

Thus with the breastplate: "Stand--having on the breastplate of righteousness."

And with the shield: "Take the shield of faith, wherewith thou shalt be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked."

We will not follow the parallel farther: had all the customs of chivalry been indeed performed in accordance with this high ideal, how different the medieval world would have been.

Thus accoutred, but as yet without helmet, sword, or spurs, our young friend was led to the castle chapel, between two (so-called) G.o.dfathers--two sons of the Earl of Hereford--in solemn procession, amidst the plaudits of the crowd. There the Earl of Leicester awaited him, and Hubert's heart beat wildly with joy and excitement, as he saw him in all his panoply, awaiting the ward whom he had received ten years earlier as a little boy from the hands of his father, then setting out for his eventful crusade.

The bishop was at the altar. The High Ma.s.s was then said; and after the service the young knight, advancing to the sanctuary, received from the good earl, whom he loved so dearly, as the flower of English chivalry, the accolade or knightly embrace.

The Bishop of Hereford belted on the young knight's own sword, which he took from the altar, and the spurs were fastened on by the Lady Alicia, wife of Lord Walter of Hereford, and dame of the castle.

Hubert then took the oath to be faithful to G.o.d, to the king, and to the ladies, after which he was enjoined to war down the proud and all who did wickedly, to spare the humble, to redress all wrongs within his power, to succour the miserable, to avenge the oppressed, to help the poor and fatherless unto their right, to do this and that; in short, to do all that a good Christian warrior ought to do.

Then he was led forth from the church, amidst the cheers and acclamations of all the population of the district, with whom the action which hastened his knighthood had won him popularity. Alms to the poor, largesse to the harpers and minstrels: all had to be given; and the reader may guess whose liberality supplied the gifts.