CHAPTER XXVIII.
_THE FATAL FIGHT._
The mellow light of an August evening was falling upon the cloisteredwalls of the Abbey of Evesham, and in deep thought a martial figure waspacing the smooth sward of the quadrangle formed by the variousbuildings.
The face of the Earl of Leicester was lined by care; but the light inthe eyes was not quenched, and the old eagle look was even more markedthan before, now that the features were more sharp and chiselled.
One of the monks approached the Earl, and waited till he should pause inhis walk. Then he delivered his message.
"A party of riders has just arrived, asking for the Earl of Leicester,and one of them calls himself your son."
De Montfort started, and looked round him eagerly.
"My son? Then bid him come to me at once;" and as the monk retired, theEarl repeated slowly, "My son, my son--which son? Henry and Guy are withme. It can scarce be Simon. He will come with banners flying and thesound of martial triumph. Sure it must be Amalric, with news from mydear ones in the south. He comes in good time, I trust and hope, towitness another gallant victory."
At that moment there was a little stir, and a few figures appeared inthe archway which divided the grassy quadrangle from the outer world.Over the Earls face there flashed a look of welcome and pleasure.
"Amalric it is," he cried; "come in a good hour, and with good tidings,I trust and hope," and he tenderly embraced his son as he spoke.
Amalric knew nothing of the misfortune which had overtaken his brother.His heart was full of hope, and he eagerly made answer,--
"The hearts of the people are very warm in our cause. I have met withkindness and good-will wherever I have been. I have left my mother atDover, where all men are her very loyal and true servants; whilst atOxford all hearts are with us, and I have even brought thence a fewcomrades, eager to serve 'neath our banner once again."
And with a wave of his hand he indicated some half-dozen youths,clustered together in the gateway, amid whom were numbered LeofricWyvill and Jack Dugdale.
The Earl looked at them with a softening of his glance, and came andspoke them kindly words.
"I trust we shall again achieve a victory," he said. "If I can but joinforces with my son, methinks all will be well. Yet he hath tarriedoverlong, and delay at such times is fraught with danger. The issue ofthe struggle is yet undetermined, and let none join with us who will notstand beside us in the moment of disaster. Faint-hearted soldiers neveryet won battle."
But Amalric's little band were not faint-hearted, and none of them movedat this word, save to toss their caps in the air, and cry,--
"God save the Earl of Leicester, the saviour of the kingdom! Confusionto his enemies! Success to the noble Earl!"
De Montfort gave them thanks for their good-will, and after charging hisfriendly hosts to look to their bodily wants, he linked his arm withinthat of his son, and began discoursing with him of many things.
Amalric had good news to give of his mother and sister, and of theloyalty to the cause displayed by the governors of the Cinque Ports, whohad refused to give up their fortresses at the demand of the King's son.Simon had been to Dover, and obtained supplies lately; Amalric wasastonished that he had not already joined his father, and the Earl'sface looked careworn and grave.
"My heart misgives me about Simon," he said. "He was always rash andheadstrong. I summoned him a long while since to meet me, and joinforces; and had he obeyed without question, we might perchance this daybe standing victors once again. But instead of coming to me, he has beenmarching through the country gathering reinforcements. These may serveus well, I do not doubt; yet sooner would I have had his help with asmaller band at an earlier date, than have waited all this while, withour enemies gathering strength daily. The Prince is nigh at hand, andhe is no mean soldier, for all his rashness at the battle of Lewes. Thatblunder he is not likely to repeat, and I myself have trained him in theart of war on the Gascon plains. I trow he will not forget my lesson asecond time!"
"And the King--where is he?" asked Amalric.
The Earl pointed to the chapel of the monastery.
"He is with us. He professes to call his son a rebel. Yet in his heart Iknow that he longs to see that rebellion crowned with success. Edwardwill place him once more on the throne, if he succeed; and he will againsurround himself with foreign flatterers and sycophants. For ere thatday dawn, the hearts of those who have beat high with love for theircountry's best weal will lie cold and still in death."
"Nay, father, say not so!" cried Amalric, with sudden pain in his voice,for it was not like the Earl thus to speak of impending disaster; hiswas rather a nature that looked forward to triumph and success.
"God grant it may not be so!" he answered; "but my heart is heavy withinme this evening. I have a premonition that ere the sun set once moresome great event will have befallen this land, but whether for weal orwoe who can say?"
When Amalric that night joined Leofric in their quarters--a clean, barecell, which they were to share together--he related to him all that hisfather had said.
"Dost think, good comrade, that a man, upon the eve of some great crisisin his life, can foresee what lies before him?"
Leofric shook his head doubtfully.
"Nay, I know not how that may be. Yet didst not thou thyself, Amalric,in bidding farewell to sweet Mistress Alys, speak as though thou didstportend misfortune to thy cause?"
"I trow I did," answered the youth, thoughtfully. "I know not how orwhy, but there came upon me the feeling that I was looking my last uponthat sweet face, and I could have wept aloud had not my manhood criedshame upon such weakness. Yet methinks she saw somewhat of the troublein my face, for ere we parted she did give me the ring from her hand,and never before had she given me token of her own to wear--nothingbeyond that silken banner, which, if I fall to-morrow, Leofric, must bemy shroud. Let it not fall into the hands of the foe. I would go down tomy grave wrapped in its martial folds."
Leofric made no response, his heart was too full for words; and longafter Amalric was sleeping quietly he lay broad awake, turning manythings over in his mind, and wondering if this presage of evil, felt byboth father and son, was a foreboding of some misfortune soon to fallupon them.
Leofric had had no intention a short time back of meddling more in wars.He was now a Master in Oxford, with a career before him there, and theprofession of arms had no real charm for him. Yet when Amalric hadsuddenly appeared there, to take leave of Alys and of his old friendsand comrades, and had told all he knew of the position of parties, andof the peril which threatened the cause dear to many through the actionof the escaped Prince, Leofric's heart had burned within him, and it hadseemed impossible to him to let his friend and once master ride forthperhaps to his death without his esquire at his side.
So Leofric had resolved once more to leave Oxford, once more to face theperils and uncertainties of war. There were others who were of like mindwith him, and Amalric had gathered together a compact little body-guard,who had accompanied him upon the slightly circuitous route he haddecided to take, and were with him now at Evesham Abbey, where he hadjoined his father.
Next morning, with the first dawn of the day, the little community wasastir. Mass was said in the chapel, and the King and Earl, and all themore devout of the leaders and men, attended with pious devotion. Thenthey repaired to the refectory to breakfast, but had not been longseated before Nicholas, the Earl's barber and personal attendant, camerunning hastily in.
"Good news, my lord and gentlemen!" he cried, "good news, indeed! Thebanners of Lord Simon are approaching us from the direction ofKenilworth. He will be with us ere another hour has passed."
The Earl sprang to his feet in great excitement.
"Art sure they are the De Montfort banners, and not those of thePrince?" he asked; and Nicholas, who combined a knowledge of heraldrywith other miscellaneous accomplishments usual in one of his craft,declared that he was absolutely certain of this, and described thebanner
s he had seen, and their blazonry.
"These are without doubt the banners of my son," said the Earl; "I willmyself mount the Abbey tower, and mark the order in which they advance."
The King calmly remained seated at table, and the Prior and many of theothers remained with him; but the Earl and his son, and two or threeothers amongst whom was Leofric, ascended the tower, and gazed long andearnestly at the advancing host, which could plainly now be seen comingtoward them.
The banners of De Montfort floated in the front ranks; but even as theEarl looked with sparkling eyes upon them, a sudden change was made.These banners were halted and sent to the rear, whilst the leopards ofyoung Edward were now brought forward and placed in the van.
The Earl understood in a moment what had happened, and his face took astrange grey pallor.
"Simon has been overcome," he said; "his banners have been wrested fromhim. It is our foes, our victorious foes, who are marching to meetus--not our friends."
A moment of dead silence ensued, and then Amalric said with an air ofcheerful confidence,--
"Let them come. We are here to meet them. We will show them battlewithout fear."
At this moment he felt his arm touched, and glancing round saw thatLeofric was standing beside them with a white, troubled face. He did notspeak, but only pointed in two directions different from that in whichthey had all been gazing. The Earl and his son looked too, and fromAmalric's lips there broke a startled exclamation.
The Prince was advancing upon them from one point, but he was not theonly assailant. Upon two other sides there now appeared the banners ofGloucester and Mortimer, hemming in the devoted little army of DeMontfort upon flank and rear. The only unmenaced side was where the Avonwith its flowing waters cut him off from all hope of retreat.
Truly the Prince had learned his lesson. This simultaneous advanceshowed a masterly generalship that was wholly unlike the headstrongrecklessness which had characterized his actions only the previous year.
"By the arm of St. James," cried the Earl, "they come on rightskilfully; they approach in admirable order. They have learned thisstyle from me, not from themselves." Then turning towards his sons, whostood looking on in amaze, he said: "Let us commend our souls unto God;as for our bodies, they are our enemies'."
"Nay, father, do not despair!" cried Amalric passionately.
"I will not," answered the Earl sadly; "yet I fear me that the pride andrashness of my sons has been mine undoing. Our friends have been turnedto foes by their haughtiness, and when peril threatened they have proveddisobedient and unready."
Henry hung his head. He knew how often his father had had good cause tochide him for these very faults; and now throwing himself almost on hisknees before his sire, he cried,--
"Father, if the fault be ours, let us bear the brunt of the battle. Dothou fly whilst there be yet time, to be the prop and stay of thecountry another day. We will do our best to die like brave soldiers, andthou wilt avenge our fall when thou shalt return once more victorious."
Amalric would have joined his brother's plea, but the Earl spoke withalmost stern decision.
"Far be it from me, my sons, to turn my back in the hour of peril. Ihave grown old in wars, and my life hastens to an end. There is that inmy blood which will not let me flee before danger, for never, methinks,did our forefathers so fly. But you, my sons, do you retire, lest youperish in the flower of your youth--you who are to succeed me (God grantit) and prolong our race, illustrious in the glories of war."
But not one of the young men would consent to move. They would conqueror die, fighting at their father's side beneath the banner of DeMontfort.
No time was to be lost in mustering the men and putting them in battlearray. The situation was a desperate one. They were hemmed in on allsides. There was but one hope, and that a forlorn one--the chance ofcutting their way through Edward's ranks before those of Gloucester andMortimer could close up.
It was but little that Leofric saw of that desperate and fatal fight atEvesham. Soon after the impact of the deadly struggle, when foe met foein unexampled fury, Amalric received a deadly wound, and falling uponhis horse's neck, would have slipped to the ground and been trampledunderfoot, had not Leofric and Jack, with the energy and determinationof despair, got him between them, and by fighting every inch of the waywith a resolute valour which overcame all obstacles, bore him at lastinto the precincts of the Priory, where they were safe. Nor did Leofricomit to carry with him the precious banner, which he knew his comradewas certain to ask for if his eyes ever unclosed in this world again.
The good monks tended the dying youth with care and skill, but knew fromthe first that the case was hopeless. Leofric knelt beside him, strivingto win one glance of recognition or one farewell word; and Jack hurriedto and fro between them and the tower, bringing news of the battle,which was grimly fought, but which had been from almost the first momenta hopeless struggle.
"The traitorous Welsh are flying! They will be our undoing!" he cried."They are fleeing away like smoke before the wind, causing confusion anddismay in our ranks!"
Amalric's eyes suddenly opened, as though something in the urgency ofJack's tones had penetrated to his senses.
"The battle--how goes it?" he faintly asked.
"I fear me badly--for us," answered Leofric gently.
"My father?" questioned Amalric, with wistful eyes.
Leofric looked at Jack, who answered quickly,--
"I saw him fighting as though the strength of ten were in him. I trowhad we but fifty such as he, not all the Princes and nobles in the landwould turn the tide of fight against us!"
Amalric's eyes opened more widely, and fixed themselves upon Jack'sface.
"Go, and bring me back word of him, good comrade," he said. "Ye shouldnot have borne me hence. I would I might have fallen fighting by mynoble fathers side."
"It was his will that thou shouldst be taken out of the press," answeredLeofric gently, and for a while the wounded man said no more; butpresently he roused himself to ask, "Is there any hope for my life?"
Perhaps what he saw in Leofric's face was answer enough, for he said, asthough he had received a reply,--
"Methought not. I feel my life ebbing away. I would seek the help andcounsel of one of our good monks. But first, I have a charge to thee, mytrusty friend and comrade. Thou hast the banner safe; thou wilt see thatit is my shroud when they lay me in the dust. But take now this ringfrom my finger; I have somewhat to say to thee anent it."
Leofric obeyed, and gently took Alys's ring from the pulseless hand ofhis friend.
"Let me kiss it once," he said; "and then keep it for her, and give itback to her, telling her how I fell, and that I loved her to the last.But, Leofric, she hath never loved me, save with the love which a sisterbears a brother, or as friend bears to friend. I have sought the otherlove, but I have found it not. Sweet she was, and gentle and tender, andher father approved my suit. But in my heart of hearts I knew that herlove was never mine. Tell her I am well content now that it should beso. I die the easier for knowing that her heart will not be widowed. Idoubt not that one day she will make another happy with that love whichI trusted once myself to win."
This was not all spoken at once, but bit by bit as the dying man couldgather strength. Leofric listened with a beating heart, holding the ringto the lips of his companion.
"Yet she gave you this token," he said.
"Yes, but only in that sort of pity and love with which a maid willalways regard the departure, perhaps to his death, of one who has trulyloved her. Methinks perhaps her heart, too, told her that we should meetno more. Sweet Alys, farewell, farewell. Now methinks I have done withlife. It is after all but a battlefield to fit us for the haven of peacebeyond. Pray God be with my father in his hour of extremity, and give tous a meeting on the other side!"
Leofric bent his head and spoke a low-toned Amen; then one of the monksapproached to administer the last rites of the Church, and hear thefaint confession breathed by those wh
ite lips.
How went the battle? Leofric was rent in twain by the desire to flinghimself into that fight and die for the cause he had embraced, and byreluctance to leave his comrade whilst the spark of life still lingered.
Suddenly Jack came rushing back, his breastplate covered with blood, hissword reeking, his whole aspect distraught. He had no horse under him,and he staggered slightly as he pressed onwards; but when Leofric sprangto his side, he said,--
"I am not wounded--would that I were--I am but choked with dust andreek. Undo my vizor and give me air. Leofric, the battle is ended. Thegreat Earl is dead!"
"Dead!" cried Leofric, startled in spite of himself, and the look uponJack's face as it was exposed to view corroborated his words.
"I could not get near him, though I fought like a fury. Methinks myright arm has slain a score of men this day. I cared not how soon theyhewed me down, and yet I escaped. But I was near; I heard and saw, and Iheard what they said of him. They brought him news that Lord Henry hadfallen, whereat he grasped his sword in both hands and cried, 'By thearm of St. James, then is it time that I died also!' With that he laidabout him right and left with such fury that men fell like thistlesaround him. But others pressed on from behind, and all called aloud uponhim to surrender--to surrender--" and Jack drew his breath hard in rageand scorn.
"But he did not?"
"Didst think he would? Nay, his was no coward blood that would surrenderto caitiff churls. I, even I, heard that clarion voice ring out oncemore amid the din of battle. 'Never will I surrender to dogs andperjurers!' it cried. 'To God alone will I yield. To Him I give up myspirit.' And even so saying he fell, pierced by a hundred wounds;" andthere Jack suddenly broke off, with a look upon his face of concentratedfury which for the moment Leofric did not understand.
"And Lord Henry is dead, thou dost say? What of Lord Guy?"
"Wounded and made prisoner. Some say he too will die; but the Prince hasgiven orders that he is to have every care. The Prince is a noblevictor; but for those dogs that he allies himself with--"
Jack set his teeth as though he could say no more.
"What have they done?" asked Leofric breathlessly.
"Wellnigh hacked his body in pieces," cried Jack, with quivering lips."Roger Mortimer claims one hand to send to his wife as a trophy. Anotherthey vow shall be sent to the Countess of Leicester at Dover--his ownwife, Leofric, his own loving wife! I trow if the Prior had not comeforth from the gates, with his monks after him, and carried away theheadless trunk, that it would have been truly hacked to pieces by thesavages who surrounded it. They are even now carrying it devoutly intothe chapel, to lay it beneath the altar. But the head, the hands, thefeet--they cannot prevail to save those. Our great and noble Earl--tothink that it should come to this with him!"
Jack turned away to hide the tears which bodily exhaustion and mentaldistress forced from his eyes. Leofric, with a shocked face, returned tothe side of Amalric, where the monk still retained a place, although therites were all concluded.
Amalric's eyes flashed open once more.
"My father?" he asked.
"Thou wilt see him soon; he has gone before thee," answered Leofricgently; and Amalric understood at once. He closed his eyes with a faintsmile. To him the strife of arms, the clash of wills, the storm andstress of life, meant nothing. He was drifting out upon an ocean wheresuch things had neither part nor lot. Perhaps in that hour it soothedhis spirit to know that his father had passed thither before him. Thethings of time had no concern for one who was launching forth upon thetide of eternity.
"Is he dead too?" asked Jack, with a break in his voice.
"It is better sometimes to die than to live," answered Leofric softly inhis ear. Then both knelt down by the side of their comrade, and the monkcommended the departing soul into the hands of God. When they arose,Amalric lay still with a smile upon his lips, and the monk, folding thehands upon the mailed breast, said reverently, "_Requiescat in pace_."
Jack's sobs could not be controlled; Leofric's tears were on his cheek,but he commanded himself, and whispered a word in the ear first of themonk and then of his companion.
Together they lifted the inanimate form and reverently carried it to thechapel, where before the altar, beneath a velvet pall, lay the mutilatedbody of Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester.
They laid Amalric down beside his father, and Leofric spread over himthe silken banner which had been worked by the fingers of Alys andLinda.
It mattered not in the eyes of the monks that De Montfort and his sonslay under the ban of papal excommunication. England had never altogethersubmitted to the tyranny of the Pope, and at a moment like this nothingwas remembered by those pious men save that the Earl had fought a goodfight, had been their friend and the friend of the people, and had dieda hero's death upon the field of battle.
For long was it reported that marvellous miracles were performed by theremains of the slaughtered warrior, and he was regarded by a largeportion of the nation as both saint and martyr. Many were the songscomposed to his memory, most of them being in Norman-French, of whichthis may be cited as a specimen, showing how greatly the hearts of thepeople were wrapped up in him:--
"I needs must sing, my heart so bids, although my words be drear; With tearful eyes was made this song of England's barons dear, Who for the peace made long ago went down unto the grave, Their bodies maimed and mangled sore, our English land to save. Now here lies low the flower of price, Who knew so much of war, Brave Montfort knight, his woful plight The land shall long deplore
"But by his death the Earl Montfort the victory has won; Like holy martyr Thomas, he to cruel death was done; Like Thomas, would not that aught ill should holy Church betide; Like Thomas, fought, and showing naught of flinching, like him died. Now here lies low the flower of price, Who knew so much of war, Brave Montfort knight, his woful plight The land shall long deplore."
NOTE.--Amalric de Montfort, though wounded and made prisoner, did not really perish upon the field of Evesham.