by M. M. Blake
CHAPTER XII.
THE STANDARD OF REVOLT.
The day which was to part Emma de Guader from her bridegroom dawnedclear and bright, and the summer sunshine sparkled upon the broadreaches of the Yare, and gleamed amidst the pale green rushes and brownosier beds of the Cowholme, shining with impartial equality, not onlyupon the just and the unjust, but upon the joyous and the sad.
In nooks and corners amongst the reeds and water weeds, the coots andwater-hens were tending their nestlings.
On the site of the busy railway station, the tall heron poisedgracefully on one leg, as his descendants do to this day, some ten orfifteen miles nearer the sea.
The yellow water-lilies were pushing their golden buds to the surface,and the reeds were growing dusky at the top, while the hot sunshinebrought out the fragrance of the sweet-gale, or bog-myrtle, whichcovered many an acre, now built over, with its dark green bushes.
Westward the broad woodlands were in the young beauty of their summerdress, wearing still somewhat of the rich variety of spring.Mountainous white clouds cast purple shadows over the sea of theirclose-packed crowns, in the shelter of which sang merles and mavises,and the fitful nightingale; while above marsh and woodland many a hawkand bustard hung poised on motionless wings, for in those days thegamekeepers had no quarrel with them.
The sentinels on the keep of Blauncheflour had a fair panorama to lookupon as they marched to and fro upon the walls; but they did not paymuch heed to the beauties of nature, they were far too much engrossedin the doings in the courtyard of the castle below, and their eyes onlyleft the knights who were gathered there, for an occasional glance atthe armed host assembled within the circle of the barbican.
Truly the cluster of gallant warriors before the grand portal of thecastle, glittering from head to foot with shining steel, lavishlyornamented with gold and silver, were a goodly sight to see; thoughperhaps Roger Bigod may have gathered a still gayer company round him acentury later, when gaudy plumes and surcoats embroidered with thecoats of arms of the wearers were the fashion of the day. In Williamthe Conqueror's time, military finery had trenched little on thestrictly useful, and the richness of these cavaliers consisted more infine inlay of precious metals than in feathers and embroidery, orfantastic helms or armour. Their heads were covered with small conicalsteel-caps, having a nasal to protect them from a transverse cut acrossthe face, or were encased in huge cylinders of steel, having narrowapertures for the necessities of sight and breathing; their longhauberks were of linked mail, or leather sewn all over with littlerings of steel; their straight cross-hilted swords measured three and ahalf to four feet in length, and were encased in richly-chased andjewelled scabbards, and suspended from baldrics ablaze with gold andgems. Each wore in his belt the _misericorde_, and at the saddle-bowsof some hung the battle-axe or mace. Their oval or heart-shaped shieldswere from four to five feet long, richly embossed, and often bearing araised spike in the centre. Their long lances were adorned with squareor swallow-tailed pennons, according to their rank, for, when a knightobtained the rank of banneret, or leader of a troop, the points wereshorn off his pennon. Their saddles and horse furniture were studdedwith steel bosses, and often the reins were steel chains plentifullyenriched with gold, and the heavy steeds they bestrode had need of alltheir sturdy strength to carry their burdens of man and metal at agallop, even at the prompting of golden spurs.
Before the portal stood De Guader's magnificent barb Oliver, champinghis bit, and with difficulty restrained by the squire who held hisbridle-rein, the white foam flying from his heavy curb upon his gildedtrappings, and his fox-coloured mane tossing in the breeze.
A few words of the great portal itself, before which this brave companywas assembled. The vestibule on the eastern side of the keep, now knownas Bigod's Tower, was not built, but the very beautiful early Normanarchway was certainly a part of the original structure, and opened upona raised platform of stone, from which sprang a drawbridge connectingit with a flight of twenty-eight steps, ended by a gate to the south.
Beneath this drawbridge was the sally-port, a narrow postern stronglyfortified, which in case of siege could, by raising the drawbridge ofthe main doorway, be made the only entrance to the keep.[3]
[3] Some idea of the arrangement here described is given by the figure of the ruins of Hedingham Castle in Strutt: _Manners and Customs of the English_, vol. i. plate xxix.
At a signal from a sentinel who stood upon this platform, thetrumpeters executed a lively _fanfare_ on their instruments. A momentlater the portal was thrown open, and the earl came forth, clad incomplete armour, and leading the young countess, who was very gallantlyapparelled in crimson cloth, broidered over with jewels and silver; shewore a small gorget of blue Milan steel, and had on her head a littlecap of the same, damascened with gold; round her waist a jewelled belt,from which were suspended a little _misericorde_ and a short steelchain.
Behind the earl and countess followed Sir Hoel de St. Brice and SirAlain de Gourin, both in full harness, attended by several squires andpages. As they came upon the platform, the greater part of thegarrison--all that were not actually on duty as sentries, warders, andlike offices--filed into the courtyard, and took up their places behindthe group of knights.
'A Guader! a Guader!' shouted knights and soldiers. 'Long live the earland countess!'
The noble couple bowed courteously, and the earl, who held in his handsthe keys of the castle, turned to his consort, and then cast a proudglance along the ranks of his retainers.
'Knights and soldiers,' he said, in clear trumpet tones which could beheard even by the sentinels on the battlements, 'before I go forth tobattle, it is meet that I should appoint a Castellan to have charge ofmy castle of Blauncheflour, and this I do now before ye all assembled,in the person of my dear lady and countess, Emma, daughter of thevaliant William Fitzosbern. I appoint her to the sole and supremecommand, and to have as deputies under her, and as militaryadvisers,--but under her pleasure, and to be dismissed if she thinkfit,--Sir Hoel de St. Brice and Sir Alain de Gourin. Knights andgentlemen, you who are about to go forth to battle with me, and toshare my dangers, and, I hope, my successes, I make you witnesses ofthe fact of this appointment, so that if I fall in the chances of thefield, you may hurry to my lady's standard and reinforce it with yourstrength. Knights and soldiers of the garrison, I charge ye to serveyour Castellan and liege lady with faithfulness and fervour; to renderher humble obedience, and to defend her as ye would defend your ownlady-loves, wives, and children. I commit her and my castle, and withthem my joy and my honour, to your care. Justify my trust!'
As he spoke he handed the keys of the castle to Emma, who took themwith trembling fingers and attached them to her girdle, looking at theranks of steel-clad men around her with a brave though blanched face.
A great roar of cheering rolled round the spacious courtyard, such asEmma had never heard in her life before, though she was to hear itslike in the coming months. Asseverations and vows and battle-criesmingled in wild confusion, shouted from stentorian lungs in more thanone language. 'Dex aie!' cried the Normans; and the Bretons cried'Guader et Montfort!' 'Aoie!' 'Heysaa!' and 'The Holy Rood!' fromEnglish of varying types; while the knights shook their lances, andcried to God to shield their lady in their absence. Arms clashed, andhorses stamped, and it seemed as if all the dogs in Norwich werebarking.
When the tumult had somewhat subsided, and the startled pigeons werecircling back to their favourite perches on the battlements, Emma, witha beating heart, made her little speech in answer. Turning first to thegarrison, she said,--
'I thank ye all for your devotion, good sirs and soldiers!' and herclear, flute-like voice was to the full as distinct as that of theearl. 'Nor do I doubt that ye will do your duty to God, to your earl,and to me, his deputy, in whatsoever sore straits may befall. To you,noble knights,' she continued, turning to the group who were about todepart with the earl, 'I return thanks for your courtesy, and beg youto bear in mind
that my lord's fortunes and fair fame, nay, even hislife, do in some measure depend upon the sharpness of your swords, andyour promptness to use them in his behalf, and therefore every blow yestrike will be struck in my defence, for, in sooth, I should die if illor dishonour came to him!'
The cheers of the garrison and the vows of the knights to do their_devoir_ by their lord burst forth more tumultuously than before; butthe countess, turning to her husband, said in a low voice,--
'I can bear no more, Ralph. Farewell! May Our Lady and St. Nicholasguard thee and bring thee shortly home!'
She held out her hands to him appealingly, and he, pressing them, bentforward hastily and kissed her on the forehead.
'_A Dieu_, dear lady!' he said, with a voice less steady than her own.'Forget not to name me in thine orisons!'
He stepped forward and mounted his impatient destrier, which, excitedalmost to madness by the cheering of men and the clash of arms, prancedand curveted proudly as he felt his master's hand. The trumpets blared,the portcullis creaked upon its hinges, and the drawbridge clanked uponits chains.
The gay cavalcade set forth on their adventures, none knowing how, orwhen, or if ever, they should return. The armed heels of the steedsclattered upon the pavement and thundered over the drawbridge, andlusty cheers rent the air before and behind them, from the waiting hostupon the plain, and from the garrison in the courtyard of the castle.
Emma, with a heavy heart, ascended the circular staircase in thenorth-eastern angle of the keep, her ladies following, and went roundto the southern side of the battlements, whence they commanded a viewof the country for many miles around, and could see the earl's army inglittering array upon the space within the barbican, and also the roadby which they would march away, that same broad Ikenield way by whichthe young countess had entered the town such a short time before, happyin her bridegroom's society.
The troops assembled in order of march. A cloud of archers and slingersin the van, chiefly Bretons; after them the bills and battle-axes, andthe Anglo-Saxon contingent with their round red shields and greattwo-edged seaxes--the weapon from which they got their name of Saxons,though it was modified from the ancient scythe-shaped blade to astraight, double-edged sword; next in order, the javelins and pikemen,and men of various arms, many only wielding stout clubs of oak and ash,or carrying long staves. Then, glittering and shining, the body ofknights headed by the earl. Near him rode Sir Guy de Landerneau, therichest and most powerful of De Guader's Breton vassals, to whom wasaccorded the honour of bearing the gold and black standard of theearl--the standard of revolt.
Next after Sir Guy rode his body-squire, young Stephen le Hareau, thehandsomest and most promising of all the aspirants for knighthood whorode in Ralph de Guader's train, the darling of the ladies' bower,after whom more than one fair face looked wistfully as he went away,full of high hopes and visions of glory, bent on 'winning his spurs,'and wearing till he had done so, as the custom was, a golden chainaround his right arm. Laughing and fearless as he rode away, with theblue summer sky reflected in his blue Norseman's eyes, little did theywho watched him dream in what plight they would see him return. Afterthem followed pages leading _hacquenees_ which their masters might ridewhen the weight of their armour had fatigued them and their fierywar-steeds. Next the baggage on sumpter mules, and a second body ofarchers and slingers to protect the rear.
So they rode away on the bright summer morning, and Emma and her ladieswatched their slow progress from the battlements till the last glimmerof the glittering armour was lost in the distance, her eyes followingthem by wood and mere, now hidden by thickets, now crossing the openmoorland covered with golden gorse, now startling a solitary heron fromhis post amongst the marshes, now a skein of wild fowl from someshining pool.
Eadgyth watched beside the countess with eager eyes, and a great hopein her bosom that her countrymen might yet come by their own again. Adelusive hope, and one she would scarcely have held if she had knownmore of the facts of the case. The English hated their conqueror, andfound his yoke oppressive. If Eadgar AEtheling had been man enough tostand against William, and lead them in revolt, they might havestruggled to overturn the Norman;--even Waltheof they might havewelcomed as a national chieftain;--but they saw too clearly that Ralphde Guader and Roger of Hereford were bent only on their ownadvancement, to rally in numbers to their banners. Small gain would itbe to them to pull William from the throne only to place one of histurbulent barons in his stead.
But the patriotic talk which the Earl of East Anglia had affected, withthe hope of gaining Saxon aid, had been as honey to the listening earsof Eadgyth, and had helped her to bear the trial of seeing strangers inthe palace which had been Harold's aforetime. She had almost forgivenRalph his part at Senlac, and was building the most noble castles inthe air as she watched the rebel army marching away.
But the young countess, torn with doubts, in bitter anguish for bothhusband and brother, watched with clasped hands and a set, pale face,and spoke not a word; but at last, when even her anxious gaze could nolonger discern a vestige of the moving force, she turned to Eadgyth.
'Let us to our bower amid stone walls, sweet,' she said. 'I had hopedto have done with such when I left the stormy borders of Wales, andcame hither to peaceful Norfolk. At least, I had thought that theirshelter would be needed only for protection against the wild DanishVikings, not to guard me from my own folks.'
She sighed deeply, and Eadgyth scarce could think of consolation. Likemost other people in all days and all places, it seemed to them thattheir times were sadly out of joint.
So they descended from their post of observation, and, crossing thecourtyard, entered the Constable's Lodge, which was to be their hometill the war-engines of the royal forces compelled them to shelterbehind the solid walls of the keep.
The bower De Guader had prepared for his bride was as magnificent andcomfortable as the resources of the times permitted; and here DameAmicia de Reviers sat awaiting them, her infirmities having preventedher from climbing the steep newel staircase of the great tower.
The pretty bower-maidens clustered round the venerable old lady, andchattered to her gaily of all that had taken place, vying with eachother in recalling all the details of the stirring sight they had justwitnessed, and in conveying them to her dull ears.
But Dame Amicia felt keenly that what was but a pleasant excitement tomost of them must have been acute anguish to her darling.
'Where is your lady, children?' asked she; but only Eadgyth had noticedthat before they left the great tower, the countess had slipped quietlyaway from them.
She had gone to the oratory, that little oratory which is still shownto those who visit the remains of Norwich Castle.
The archway by which she had entered was supported by two columns withornamental capitals. At the angle were carved pelicans, in their pietyvulning their breasts.
'Ah!' thought Emma as she passed them, 'if I could strip my own breast,and so make soft the beds of those I love! Brother and husband! Ah me,what sufferings may await them! The warrior's lonely death on the cold,pitiless earth, or worse, that of the prisoner on the colder flags ofthe dungeon of their foe! William is without mercy. St. Nicholas, makemy Ralph prevail!'
She shook from head to foot with a shudder of dread, as she threwherself upon her knees before the altar; but the tears she had so longrepressed would not now come to her relief. Dry-eyed, with a dull,persistent pain at her heart that made each breath a sigh, shestretched up her arms in mute supplication to the Help of the helplessfor aid.
