Chapter 2: A Hospitable Shelter.
Figeon's Farm (the true spelling of the name should be Fitz-John's,but nobody ever thought of calling it so) was a prosperous andpleasant place enough. It had been in the hands of Devenishes eversince the Norman conquest--so at least the common belief went--andthere was no tradition of the house or lands having been in otherhands than those of the present family.
When Paul Stukely awoke from the deep sleep of exhaustion intowhich he had fallen even while the worthy smith had been talking tohim overnight, his ears were assailed by the peaceful andcomfortable sounds inseparable from farmhouse life and occupation.He heard the cackling of hens, the grunting of pigs, and the roughvoices of the hinds as they got the horses out of the sheds, andprepared to commence the labours of the day with harrow or plough.These sounds were familiar enough to Paul; they seemed to carry himback to the days of his childhood, and he lay for several minutesin a state between sleeping and waking, dreamily wondering if thestrange events of the past year were all a dream, and if he shouldwake by-and-by to find himself a child once more, in his little bedin the old home, and receive his mother's kiss as his morning'sgreeting.
But soon this sweet illusion faded, and the young man sat up in bedand looked quickly round him, trying to recollect where he was andwhat had brought him here. During the last two years, in which hehad been forced to lead the roving life of an adventurer--commonenough in those days, and by no means entirely distasteful to oneof his temperament and training--he had slept in many strangeplaces, and had known quarters far ruder than the unceiled,raftered room of the gabled farm.
In time it all came back to him--the attack upon the helpless girlin the wood, his own successful defence, and the journey to thefarmhouse in the gathering darkness. Paul gave himself a shake tosee how he felt, and decided that although stiff and bruised, andcrippled in the left arm, he might yet make shift to rise and dresshimself. He saw his clothes all laid out in readiness for him, andit was plain that some good friend had sat up far into the nightbrushing and mending them; for they had been in somewhat sorryplight after his adventure of yesterday, and now they were freshand clean and almost smart looking, as they had not been for many along day before.
As Paul was slowly dressing, he was suddenly aware of the sound ofa woman's voice speaking or reading--he fancied from its monotonouscadence that it must be the latter--in some room that could not befar away from his own chamber. In those days such an accomplishmentas reading was not at all common to the inhabitants of a farm, andPaul stood still in surprise to listen.
Yes, there was no mistaking it, there was certainly somebody--somewoman--reading aloud in a chamber hard by. Presently the cadence ofthe voice changed, and Paul was certain that the reading hadchanged to prayer; but not the pattering Paternosters or Ave Mariaswith which he was familiar enough. This style of prayer was quitedifferent from that; and the young man, after listening for a fewmoments with bated breath, exclaimed to himself, in accents ofsurprise and some dismay:
"Lollards, in good sooth! By the mass, I must have stumbled into anest of heresy;" and he crossed himself devoutly, as if to shieldhimself from the evil of contamination.
Paul had been born and bred a Papist, as indeed was the case withmost of his countrymen in those days. The House of Lancaster wasdeeply attached to the faith as they found it, and Henry the Sixthhad burned many a heretic at Smithfield; for he was at once a saintand a fanatic--a very common combination then, hard enough as itseems now to bracket the two qualities together--and led in allthings by his ghostly advisers.
But the leaven of the new doctrines was silently working throughoutthe length and breadth of the land in spite of all repressivemeasures, and King Edward the Fourth, either from policy orindifference, had done little or nothing to check its spread.London--the place of all others which was ever loyal to him--was aperfect hotbed of heresy (in the language of the priests), and thatalone was enough to deter the Yorkist monarch from stirring upstrife and bringing down upon his head the enmity of the powerfulcity which served him so well. Now that the meek Henry wore thecrown again--if indeed he did wear it--the Lollards might welltremble for their liberties and lives.
As for Paul, he had seen and heard little of the new religion, ashe called it, and looked upon it as a terrible and deadly sin. Atthe same time, he had knocked about the world enough to have won alarger toleration for all sorts and conditions of men than he wouldhave done had he remained master of the ancestral estates at home;and after a momentary thrill of dismay and repulsion, he decided totake no notice of what he had inadvertently overheard.
These people had been kind and friendly. If they desired him toremain a short time beneath their roof until his wounds werehealed, he saw no particular reason against doing so. A spell ofrest and quiet would suit him and Sultan very well, and with theirprivate beliefs he had no concern; the less he knew of them thebetter.
So he finished his toilet, whistling a gay tune to drown the soundof the unauthorized prayer nigh at hand; and when he had finishedhe opened his door, and made his way down the narrow, windingstairs, into the great kitchen he had entered the previous evening.
The big place looked cheerful enough this bright morning: the doorstanding wide open to the October sunlight--the huge fire of logscrackling and blazing on the wide hearth and roaring up the vastopen chimney--the rude metal and wooden utensils as clean asscrubbing could make them--and the brick floor clean enough to eatoff, as the saying goes. And this cleanliness was not so common inthose days of partial civilization as it is now: there werefarmhouses enough and to spare in the England of that day where menand animals herded together amid filth that we should hardlycondemn pigs to in this enlightened age. Wherefore Paul was bothpleased and surprised by all he saw, and his dim misgivings fledaway promptly.
In the wide inglenook before the oak settle a small table had beendrawn up, and upon this table stood one wooden platter, and somehomely viands sufficiently tempting to a hungry man, and a hugejoram of home-brewed ale. Paul did not doubt for a moment that thiswas his own breakfast thus temptingly spread for him; and he wasfully disposed to do it ample justice, for he had eaten littleduring the past four-and-twenty hours, and had ridden far and donesome good hard fighting to boot. But he did not like to sit downuninvited, and as he stood warming his hands at the pleasant blaze,there tripped into the room the girl he had last clearly seen, gunin hand, in the forest, and she greeted him with the prettiestsmile and blush.
"Good morrow, fair sir. I am pleased indeed to see you thus afoot,and hope you feel little the worse for your brave encounteryesterday. We know not how to thank you; in truth, I scarce sleptall last night, thinking what my fate must have been but for yourtimely rescue. But I pray you be seated, and try this pie ofmother's own making, with a slice of home-cured ham (father is agreat rearer of pigs; and the brothers of Leighs Priory, who knowwhat good living is, always come to him for his primest bacon andham). You look as if you needed a good meal, for your face is butwan this morning. Mother scarce looked to see you on your feet sosoon."
Paul laughed as he sat himself down to the hospi table board.
"Nay, I scarce feel any ill effects from the knocks I got. A roverlike myself is tough and wiry, or should be. I fear this arm maynot be serviceable for a few weeks to come, but--"
"But if you will do us the pleasure to make this poor house yourhome until such time as you can go forth a sound man, you will begiving us great honour and pleasure; for I think that if harm hadbefallen our dear and only daughter, her father's heart would havebroken, and her mother's hairs have gone down with sorrow to thegrave."
It was a fresh voice that spoke these words, and Paul roseinstinctively to his feet as he found himself face to face with hishostess.
Mistress Devenish, as she was commonly called, was no ordinarybuxom, loud-tongued farmer's wife, but a slight, small woman, ofrather insignificant aspect, unless the expression of the face wastaken into account. Then indeed might be seen a refinement andi
ntellect seldom found in persons of her class in those rough anduncultured times. Paul, who was a shrewd observer, detected at oncethat this was no ordinary woman before him, and saw from whom Joanhad inherited her graceful, refined bearing and sweet, low-tonedvoice. She was a much taller and finer woman than her mother hadever been, for she had something of her father's strength andstature; but for all that she owed much of her charm to her mother,and plainly regarded her with true filial devotion.
"I thank you heartily," answered Paul, as he held out his hand ingreeting. "I should be glad enough to rest, for a few days atleast, in such pleasant quarters; but I must not let myself becomea burden to you because that I have had the honour of rendering atrifling service to fair Mistress Joan here."
"Nay, sir, it was no trifling service you did her; it was suchservice as must ever cause a mother's heart to swell with thankfuljoy. What would have become of the maid carried off by that evilman to his own secret haunts I dare not even think. Had they slainher before her parents' eyes, it would have been less terrible thanto know her utterly at their mercy."
"Ay, indeed it would," cried the girl, with dilating eyes. "Ah,fair sir, you know not what monsters these terrible robbers can be.Oh, I pray you go not forth again until you can go a hale and soundman; for you have incurred by your act of yesterday the fury of onewho never forgives, and who is as cunning as he is cruel. He mayset his spies upon you; and dog your steps if you leave this place;and if you were to be overcome by them and carried off to theircave in the forest, some terrible and cruel death would surelyawait you there. For they truly call him Devil's Own--so crafty, sobloodthirsty, so full of malice and revenge has he ever shownhimself."
The girl's cheek paled as she spoke; but Paul smiled at her fears.Not that he was altogether foolhardy, or disposed to despisewarnings thus given him; but his life had taught him a certainhardihood and contempt of danger, and he and his good horse hadproved match enough for formidable antagonists before now.
"I thank you for your kind thought for me, and I will use allprudence when I stir from the shelter of this hospitable roof. Butmy next journey will be to London, and there, methinks, shall Ifind more of law and order. It is a sad state of things when notforty miles from the king's own city bands of robbers abound andflourish, making honest folks tremble for their lives andliberties."
"You speak truly; young sir," answered Mistress Devenish, who hadnow sat down to her spinning wheel in the inglenook, whilst herdaughter still hovered about restlessly, and waited assiduouslyupon their disabled guest. "And had King Edward but kept histhrone, I verily believe he would have put down with a strong handthese same marauders who devastate the country more than waritself. Things were beginning to improve after the long anddisastrous civil strife, and we fondly told ourselves that theworst was over, and that the distracted country would tastesomething of the blessings of peace again. But since that haughtyearl men call the King Maker has gone to France to make his peacewith the Lancastrian queen, and has returned to place her husband(poor man, it is no fault of his that he cannot sway the sceptre,but can only submit to the dictates of others) on England's throne,we shall again be plunged, I know it well, in bloody and terriblestrife. The lion-hearted Edward will never resign his rightswithout a struggle. He will return and collect an army, and thecruel bloodshed will recommence. This bloodless victory will notlast. God alone knows how the struggle will end. We know but toowell that misery and desolation will be the fate of the countryuntil the matter is finally settled one way or the other; and whenwill that be?"
Paul listened in grave silence to these words, so foreign to hisown hopes and the confident expressions he had heard from time totime uttered by hot partisans of the Red Rose. He had hoped to findthe whole country rejoicing in the restoration of the gentlemonarch, whom he loved with the ardour of a generous and impetuoustemperament. But these simple folks, rustic and unlettered thoughthey were, managed somehow to throw a shadow over his spirit bytheir grave and doubting words.
He realized that King Henry would have a hard struggle ere thewhole of England owned his sway. Edward was yet the king in many apart of the realm. He was more respected and beloved than thefeeble, monk-ridden monarch he had deposed; and if it came to be aquestion of abstract right, none could dispute the superiority ofthe claim of the House of York. Edward was the descendant of theelder branch of the family of Edward the Third. It was only thepolitic reign of the fourth Henry, and the brilliant reign of thefifth, which had given to the House of Lancaster its kingly title.Men would probably never have thought of disputing the sixthHenry's sway had he held the sceptre firmly and played the part ofking, to any purpose. But his health and temperament were alikefeeble: he inherited the fatal malady of his grandsire of France,and was subject to fits of mental illness which made him utterlyhelpless and supine. His strong-minded queen was detested by thenobles and unpopular with the mass of the people, whilst theambition of the powerful barons and peers had made civil strife aneasy and popular thing.
There was no great issue at stake in these disastrous wars; noburning question was settled by the victory of either side; nogreat principle or national interest was involved. It was littlemore in reality than the struggle for supremacy and place amongstthe overbearing and ambitious nobles; hence the ease and readinesswith which they changed sides on every imaginable pretext, and thehopeless character of the struggle, which ruined and exhausted thecountry without vindicating one moral or national principle.
But Paul Stukely, at twenty years of age, was not likely to takethis dispassionate view of the case. His whole heart was in thecause of the Red Rose, and he could scarce listen to these quietbut telling words without breaking out into ardent defence of thecause he had at heart.
"But listen, good mistress," he exclaimed eagerly, when she hadceased to speak: "there are better days dawning for the land thanthey have seen either beneath the rule of the gentle Henry or thebold but licentious Edward. His blessed majesty has no love for theoffice of king, and his long captivity has further weakened hishealth and increased his love for retirement. You speak truly whenyou doubt if he will ever rule this turbulent nation, so long tornwith strife and divided into faction. But think--he need not swaythe sceptre which has proved too heavy for his hands. He has ason--a fair and gallant prince--worthy of the royal name of Edwardwhich he bears. Men say that it will not be the feeble father whowill restore order to the country and bring peace again to itsshores, but that the task will be intrusted to the youthful Edward,who in his person combines the graces of his stately mother and thewarlike prowess of his great ancestor whose cognizance he bears.Trust me, good people, if you love not Henry you will love Henry'sson; and will it not be better to be ruled by him than by thatother Edward of York, the usurper, who, though I verily believe hecan be a lion in battle, yet spends his days, when not in arms, inlolling in idleness and luxury amid his fine court beauties, andbeseems himself rather as a woman than a man? I would fain serve aspotless prince, such as our noble Prince of Wales is known to be,than one whose life is stained by the debaucheries of a luxuriouscourt, and gluttony such as it is a marvel even to hear of."
Joan's eyes lighted, as the youth spoke with all the ardour of ayoung and vivid imagination and a generous and undoubting love.Even the grave-faced woman at the spinning wheel smiled to herself,and though she heaved a little sigh, she answered gently enough:
"Ay, young sir, if that could be! If we could be ruled by one whowas brave, and stainless, and wise, and just, then England mightcount itself a happy land indeed; but I have lived throughtroublous times, and I have lost hope in such a speedy and happyconclusion to the matter. But we shall see--we shall see."
"We have all favoured King Edward's cause here, as I told youyesterday," said Joan; "for we seemed better off under his rulethan in the days before, when we were distracted by the war. Buttell us of this prince--the Prince of Wales, as you call him. Wouldhe be able to rule us wisely and well? Has he a strong arm and akind heart? And does he think for himse
lf? or do the monks or thequeen direct him in all matters? Have you ever seen him? Do youknow what he is like?"
"I have not seen him since he was a child and I a child, too,"answered Paul, his face lighting at the recollection of the littleprince of his dreams, which had never faded or grown dim. "Insooth, he was the noblest, kingliest child the sun ever shone on.And men say he has grown up to fulfil all the promise of his youth.He is solemnly betrothed, so they say, to the Lady Anne, thedaughter of the proud Earl of Warwick, and it is into his handsthat the real government of the country will be intrusted.
"Oh, you would love him if you could see him--I am sure of that. Iwould he could come himself now, for the hearts of the nation wouldsurely go out to him. Shall I tell you a story of him when he was achild--when we were children together? You will see how sweet andlovable he was even then, and I warrant that he has not changednow."
Joan answered eagerly in the affirmative, and Paul told of hisadventure with the little prince in the forest hard by Lichfield;and mother and daughter as they heard the tale exchanged glances,as if it was not the first time they had heard something of thekind. He had hardly finished the narrative before Joan brokeeagerly in:
"O sir, was it in truth you that balked the robbers of their prey?I pray you never speak of this to any in these parts, for truly itmight cost you your life. You have heard us speak of the BlackNotley robbers, whose lawless band our neighbour joined--the onewho tried yesterday to get me into his clutches? Well, this samestory that you have told to us he has heard a dozen times from hischief--the chief of all the band--Fire Eater, as he is called intheir fierce language. It was he and his followers who hung uponthe royal party all those long years ago, and he who carried youoff in mistake for the Prince of Wales. He has often been heard toswear terribly over that great disappointment, and regret that hedid not run his sword through the body of the daring boy who hadoutwitted him. If he were to hear of your being here, he would moveheaven and earth to obtain your capture or death.
"O sir, be advised, you are in more peril than you know. Go notforth from the shelter of these doors till you can do so a soundman, and then make hasty and swift flight for London, whereperchance you may be safe. These terrible robbers are not to besmiled at; they are cunning and cruel and crafty beyond belief. Ishiver even for myself whenever I think of that terrible SimonDowsett, whom they call Devil's Own."
Paul was not a little surprised to hear that his childish exploithad been heard of here, and that the robber chief he had outwittedwas the real leader of the band some members of which he had slainthe previous day. He could not disguise from himself that he mighton this account be placed in a position of some danger. The manwhose villainous scheme he had frustrated would undoubtedly be hisdeadly enemy, and it was possible that if his name became known inthe place, it would draw upon him the vengeance of the whole band.True, the robber chieftain might have forgotten the name of thechild who had been carried off by him in mistake for the Prince ofWales; but Paul remembered how he had called it out when appealingto his friend the farmer for help, and it was possible that itmight be remembered against him. Certainly, in his present crippledstate, it seemed advisable to remain in hiding at the farm, as hewas so hospitably pressed to do; and after a short debate withhimself upon his position, he gratefully consented to do so.
"That is right, that is right," cried the farmer, when he came inat midday for the dinner that family and servants all sharedtogether; and presently, when the meal was over, and the women hadretired to wash up the platters in an adjoining room, whilst thelabourers had started forth for their labours, the master drew hisguest into the warm inglenook again, and said to him in a lowvoice:
"I'll be right glad to have a good Lancastrian abiding beneath myroof for awhile. The good brothers of Leighs are our bestcustomers, and one or another of them is always coming across onsome errand, and 'twill do us no harm in their eyes to find afollower of King Henry under our roof. I know not how it is, but oflate they have been somewhat changed toward us;" and the farmerlooked uneasily round, as if hardly knowing who might be listening."We go to mass as regular as any; and my little girl there hasworked a robe for the reverend prior himself as cost me a prettypenny in materials, and half blinded her pretty eyes, she sat at itso close. They have no need to look askance at us; but there,there, I suppose they have had a deal of trouble with the hereticbooks and such like as have been getting about the country of late.They say they found a Wycliffe's Bible hidden under the hearthstone of a poor woman's cottage in Little Waltham, nigh at handhere; and if King Henry had been on the throne, she might have beensent up to Smithfield to be burned, as an example and warning toothers. But King Edward was on the throne then, and he cares not toburn his subjects for heresy--God bless him for that! But if KingHenry is coming back to reign, it behoves all good persons to becareful and walk warily. So, young sir, if you can speak a goodword for us to the holy brothers, I will thank you with all myheart. It's a bad thing when they get the notion that a house iscorrupted by heresy."
The palpable uneasiness of the farmer betrayed to Paul full wellthat he was very much afraid of the orthodoxy of his wife, and itwas not impossible that he himself might not be secretly favouringthe new religion whilst conforming outwardly in all things. Suchcases were by no means rare, and this village appeared Yorkistenough in its sentiments to suggest suspicions as to its orthodoxy.
But Paul was young and impressionable and generous; he liked thesegood folks, and knew nothing whatever to their discredit. He wassure that, whatever they might privately believe, they were goodand trustworthy folks, and he gave his word to do all that hecould, if chance offered, with an emphasis that won him the heartythanks of the farmer.
Nor was the chance very long in coming: for only on the afternoonof the next day a portly monk jogged up to the farm on his sleekpalfrey; and Paul, who was seated near to the door, rose and benthis knee, asking the customary blessing; after which the monkdismounted, and made his way into the kitchen to give some order tothe good mistress of the house.
The monks of those days were regular gossips, and loved a chat, asthey sat in the chimney corner enjoying a cup of the best wine thehouse afforded, or a substantial meal of the choicest products ofthe larder. Brother Lawrence was no exception to this rule; and thefarmer's wife bestirred herself to get him everything he couldfancy, whilst he sat and questioned Paul as to his history and theadventure which had brought him to this homestead. Very much did heenjoy hearing of the discomfiture of the robbers, and laughed quitemerrily to think how they had been overcome by the handsomestripling before him.
Presently, when Mistress Devenish had gone away to make someinquiries respecting the flitches of bacon required for the Priory,Brother Lawrence beckoned Paul somewhat nearer, and said, in a lowvoice, in his ear:
"Be in no haste to depart from hence, my son. It may be that thereis work for you here for the Holy Church. It is whispered by oneand another that yon good woman, as I would fain believe her to be,is somewhat tainted with the damnable heresy they call Lollardism,and that she has in her possession one of those Bibles which thatarch-heretic Wycliffe translated into the vulgar tongue for theundoing of the unlearned, who think that they can thus judge forthemselves on matters too high for them. You, my son, as a true sonof the Church, may do us great service by keeping open both earsand eyes, and telling if you see or hear ought amiss. I would fainlearn that no such evil is done among these good folks; but if itbe that the leaven is working, it will be your duty to tell usthereof, and we will see if the evil may not be stamped out ere ithas spread to others, or much corrupted even them that are tainted.We trust that the days are dawning now when Holy Church will haveher ancient powers restored, and will be able to deal with hereticseven as they merit. But however that may be, be it your work towatch and listen with all the powers you have. I trust that therewill be nought you will hear save what is to the credit of theseworthy folks."
Paul secretly in his heart vowed that no syllable which sho
uld hurthis hosts should ever pass his lips; but he bent his head with duereverence before the monk, who smiled and nodded cheerily to himbefore he went his way. It seemed strange that so jovial and kindlya man should so lightly speak of burning to death fellow creatureswhom he had regarded for years with kindly goodwill. But there werestrange anomalies in those days, even as there are in our own, andPaul saw nothing strange in this, nor in his own conduct, whichmade him appear submissive to the dictates of the Holy Church, ashe ever called her in his thoughts, whilst all the time he wasresolved neither to hear nor to see any of the things which would,if made known, injure his hosts in the eyes of the spiritualauthorities. The very teaching of those spiritual pastorsinculcated a certain amount of deceit and double dealing. Whatwonder if the weapon so freely used by themselves sometimes turnedits double edge against them in its turn?
Paul accompanied the monk to the gate which led to the so-calledroad by which Figeon's was approached. It was nothing but a rudecart track; and although well-tilled fields lay on one side of thistrack, the forest lay upon the other, stretching away black and diminto immeasurable distance.
Paul lingered a little while beside the gate, watching the friardescend the sloping path; and he might have remained longer than heknew, for he was aroused from his day dream by the growl of one ofthe farm dogs, who stood at his side. Looking quickly round him, hefancied he detected amid the shadows of the trees across the road adark figure almost concealed behind a solid trunk, the face alonevisible--a dark, saturnine face, with a pair of eyes that gleamedlike those of some wild beast.
The moment those eyes met Paul's the head was withdrawn, and theyouth stood asking himself if it were not all a dream; but if ithad been one, it was remarkably clear and vivid, and he walked tothe house with a look of deep thought upon his face.
In the Wars of the Roses: A Story for the Young Page 3
