by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER II THE BATTLE OF TEWKESBURY
Riding fast, Sir Thomas Tresham crossed the Thames at Reading before anynews of the battle of Barnet had arrived there. On the third day afterleaving St. Albans he reached Westbury, and there heard that the newshad been received of the queen's landing at Plymouth on the very day onwhich her friends had been defeated at Barnet, and that she had alreadybeen joined by the Duke of Somerset, the Earl of Devon, and others, andthat Exeter had been named as the point of rendezvous for her friends.As the Lancastrians were in the majority in Wiltshire and Somerset,there was no longer any fear of arrest by partisans of York, and afterresting for a day Sir Thomas Tresham rode quietly on to Exeter, wherethe queen had already arrived.
The battle of Barnet had not, in reality, greatly weakened theLancastrian cause. The Earl of Warwick was so detested by the adherentsof the Red Rose that comparatively few of them had joined him, and thefight was rather between the two sections of Yorkists than between Yorkand Lancaster. The Earl's death had broken up his party, and York andLancaster were now face to face with each other, without his disturbinginfluence on either side. Among those who had joined the queen wasTresham's great friend, the Grand Prior of St. John's. Sir Thomas tookup his lodgings in the house where he had established himself. The queenwas greatly pleased at the arrival of Dame Tresham, and at her earnestrequest the latter shared her apartments, while Gervaise remained withhis father.
"So this is the young Knight of St. John," the prior said, on theevening of the arrival of Sir Thomas. "I would, Tresham, that I were atpresent at Rhodes, doing battle with the infidels, rather than engagedin this warfare against Englishmen and fellow Christians."
"I can well understand that," Sir Thomas said.
"I could not hold aloof here, Tresham. The vows of our Order by no meanshinder us from taking part in the affairs of our own country. The ruleof the Order is indeed against it, but the rule is constantly broken.Were it otherwise there could be no commanderies in this or anyother country; we should have, on entering the Order, to abandon ournationality, and to form part of one community in the East. The Orderis true to its oaths. We cannot defend the Holy Sepulchre, for that,for the present, is hopelessly lost; but we can and do wage war withthe infidel. For this funds are necessary as well as swords, and ourcommanderies throughout Europe supply the funds by which the struggle ismaintained, and, when it is needed, send out contingents to help thosefighting in the East. It was from the neglect of this cardinal pointthat the Templars fell. Their commanderies amassed wealth and widepossessions, but unlike us the knights abstained altogether fromfulfilling their vows, and ceased to resist the infidel. Therefore theywere suppressed, and, with the general approval of Europe, a portion oftheir possessions was handed over to the knights of St. John. However,as I understand, it is your wish that as soon as the boy comes of ageto wield arms he shall go to Rhodes and become an active member of theOrder. This is indeed the rule with all neophytes, but having serveda certain time they are then permitted to return and join one of thecommanderies in their native countries."
"I do not wish that for Gervaise," his father said; "at least, I wishhim to remain at Rhodes until all the civil troubles are absolutelyat an end here. My life has been ruined by them. Loving retirement andquiet, and longing for nothing so much as a life among my tenantry, Ihave almost from a boy been actively engaged in warfare or have beenaway as an exile. Here every one of gentle blood has been more or lessmixed up in these civil broils. To few of us does it personally matterwhether a member of the House of York or Lancaster sits on the throne,and yet we have been almost compelled to take sides with one or theother; and now, in my middle age I am on the eve of another battlein which I risk my life and fortune. If we win I gain naught but thesatisfaction of seeing young Edward made King of England. If we lose Iam going into exile again, or I may leave my wife a widow, and my childpenniless."
"It is too true, Tresham; and as I am as likely to fall as you are, thechild might be left without a protector as well as fatherless. However,against that I will provide. I will write a letter to Peter D'Aubusson,who is the real governor of Rhodes, for the Grand Master Orsini is soold that his rule is little more than nominal. At his death D'Aubussonis certain to be elected Grand Master. He is a dear friend of mine. Weentered the Order the same year, and were comrades in many a fight withthe Moslems, and I am quite sure that when I tell him that it is my lastrequest of him, he will, in memory of our long friendship, appoint yourson as one of the Grand Master's pages. As you know, no one, howeverhigh his rank, is accepted as a novice before the age of sixteen.After a year's probation he is received into the body of the Order as aprofessed knight, and must go out and serve for a time in Rhodes. Afterthree years of active service he must reside two more at the convent,and can then be made a commander. There is but one exception to therule--namely, that the pages of the grand master are entitled tothe privilege of admission at the age of twelve, so that they becomeprofessed knights at thirteen. Your son is now but nine, you say, andwe must remember that D'Aubusson is not yet Grand Master, and Orsini maylive for some years yet. D'Aubusson, however, can doubtless get him toappoint the boy as one of his pages. But, in any case, there are threeyears yet to be passed before he can go out. Doubtless these he willspend under his mother's care; but as it is as well to provide againsteverything, I will furnish your dame with a letter to the knight whowill probably succeed me as Grand Prior of the English langue, askinghim to see to the care and education of the boy up to the time when hecan proceed to Rhodes. We may hope, my dear Tresham, that there will beno occasion to use such documents, and that you and I may both be ablepersonally to watch over his career. Still, it is as well to take everyprecaution. I shall, of course, give D'Aubusson full particulars aboutyou, your vow, and your wishes."
"I thank you greatly, old friend," Sir Thomas said. "It has taken aload off my mind. I shall leave him here with his mother when we marchforward, and bid her, if ill befalls me, cross again to France, and thento keep Gervaise with her until she can bring herself to part with him.She has her jewels and a considerable sum of money which I accepted fromthe man who has been enjoying my estates for the last five years, inlieu of the monies that he had received during that time. Therefore, shewill not lack means for some years to come. Besides, Queen Margaret hasa real affection for her, and will, doubtless, be glad to have her withher again in exile."
"When I am old enough," Gervaise said, suddenly looking up from a missalof the Grand Prior's which he had been examining, "I will chop off thehead of the Duke of York, and bring mother back to England."
"You will be a valiant champion no doubt, my boy," the prior said,laughing. "But that is just what your father does not want. Chop off theheads of as many infidels as you will, but leave Englishmen alone, bethey dukes or commoners. It is a far more glorious career to be aidingto defend Europe against the Moslem than to be engaged in wars with yourown countrymen. If the great lords will fight, let them fight it outthemselves without our aid; but I hope that long before you become aman even they will be tired of these perpetual broils, and that someagreement may be arrived at, and peace reign in this unhappy land."
"Besides, Gervaise," his father added, "you must bear in mind alwaysthat my earnest wish and hope is that you will become a champion ofthe Cross. I took a solemn vow before you were born that if a son weregranted to me I would dedicate him to the service of the Cross, and if Iam taken from you, you must still try to carry that oath into effect.I trust that, at any rate for some years after you attain manhood,you will expend your whole strength and powers in the defence ofChristianity, and as a worthy knight of the Order of St. John. Too manyof the knights, after serving for three years against the infidels,return to their native countries and pass the rest of their lives inslothful ease at their commanderies, save perhaps when at any greatcrisis they go out for a while and join in the struggle. Such is not thelife I should wish you to lead. At the death of your mother and myself,you will have no family ties in Engla
nd--nothing to recall you here. Ifthe House of York succeeds in establishing itself firmly on the throne,my estates will be forfeited. Therefore, regard Rhodes as your permanenthome, and devote your life to the Order. Beginning so young, you mayhope to distinguish yourself--to gain high rank in it; but remember thatthough these are my wishes, they are not my orders, and that your careermust be in your own hands."
"I will be a brave knight, father," the boy said firmly.
"That is right, my boy. Now go upstairs to your bed; it is already late.I do not regret my vow," he went on, after Gervaise had left the room,"though I regret that he is my only son. It is singular that men shouldcare about what comes after them, but I suppose it is human nature.I should have liked to think that my descendants would sit in the oldhouse, and that men of my race and name would long own the estates. Butdoubtless it is all for the best; for at least I can view the permanentloss of my estates, in case the Yorkists triumph, without any poignantregret."
"Doubtless it is for the best, Tresham, and you must remember thatthings may not, even now, turn out as you think. A knight who has done abrave service does not find much difficulty in obtaining from the Popea dispensation from his vows. Numbers of knights have so left the Orderand have married and perpetuated their name. It is almost a necessitythat it should be so, for otherwise many princes and barons wouldobject to their sons entering the Order. Its object is to keep back theirruption of the Moslems, and when men have done their share of hardwork no regret need be felt if they desire to leave the Order. Ourfounder had no thought of covering Europe with monasteries, and beyondthe fact that it is necessary there should be men to administer ourmanors and estates, I see no reason why any should not freely leave whenthey reach the age of thirty or thirty-five, and indeed believe that itwould strengthen rather than weaken us were the vows, taken at the ageof seventeen, to be for fifteen years only."
"There is something in that," the knight said thoughtfully. "However,that is far in the distance, and concerns me but little; still, I agreewith you, for I see no advantage in men, after their time of usefulnessto the Order is past, being bound to settle down to a monastic life ifby nature and habit unsuited for it. There are some spirits who,after long years of warfare, are well content so to do, but there areassuredly others to whom a life of forced inactivity, after a youth andmanhood spent in action, must be well nigh unendurable. And now tell mefrankly what you think of our chances here."
"Everything depends upon time. Promises of aid have come in from allquarters, and if Edward delays we shall soon be at the head of anoverwhelming force. But Edward, with all his faults and vices, is anable and energetic leader, and must be well aware that if he is tostrike successfully he must strike soon. We must hope that he will notbe able to do this. He cannot tell whether we intend to march direct toLondon, or to join Pembroke in Wales, or to march north, and until hedivines our purpose, he will hardly dare to move lest we should, by somerapid movement, interpose between himself and London. If he gives us amonth, our success is certain. If he can give battle in a fortnight, noone can say how the matter will end."
Edward, indeed, was losing no time. He stayed but a few days in Londonafter his victory at Barnet, and on the 19th of April left for Windsor,ordering all his forces to join him there. The Lancastrians hadendeavoured to puzzle him as to their intended movements by sendingparties out in various directions; but as soon as he had gathered aforce, numerically small, but composed of veteran soldiers, he hurriedwest, determined to bring on a battle at the earliest opportunity. Thequeen's advisers determined to move first to Wells, as from that pointthey could either go north or march upon London. Edward entered Abingdonon the 27th, and then, finding the Lancastrians still at Wells, marchedto the northwest, by which means he hoped to intercept them if theymoved north, while he would be able to fall back and bar their roadto London if they advanced in that direction. He therefore moved toCirencester, and waited there for news until he learned that they hadvisited Bristol and there obtained reinforcements of men and supplies ofmoney and cannon, and had then started on the high road to Gloucester.
He at once sent off messengers to the son of Lord Beauchamp, who heldthe Castle of Gloucester for him, assuring him that he was following atfull speed, and would come to his aid forthwith. The messengersarrived in time, and when the queen, after a long march, arrived beforeGloucester, she found the gates shut in her face. The governor had takensteps to prevent her numerous adherents in the town from rising onher behalf, and, manning the walls, refused to surrender. Knowing thatEdward was coming up rapidly, it was evident that there was no time tospare in an attempt to take the town, and the queen's army thereforepressed on, without waiting, to Tewkesbury. Once across the river theywould speedily be joined by the Earl of Pembroke, and Edward would beforced to fall back at once.
By the time they reached the river, however, they were thoroughlyexhausted. They had marched thirty-six miles without rest, along badroads and through woods, and were unable to go farther. The queen urgedthat the river should be crossed, but the leaders of the force were ofopinion that it was better to halt. Edward would be able to follow themacross the river, and were he to attack them when in disorder, andstill further wearied by the operation of making the passage, he wouldcertainly crush them. Moreover, a further retreat would discourage thesoldiers, and as a battle must now be fought, it was better to fightwhere they were, especially as they could choose a strong position. Thequeen gave way, and the army encamped on a large field in front of thetown. The position was well calculated for defence, for the countryaround was so broken and intercepted with lanes and deep hedges andditches, that it was extremely difficult of approach.
In the evening Edward came up, his men having also marched somesix-and-thirty miles, and encamped for the night within three miles ofthe Lancastrian position. The queen's troops felt confident of victory.In point of numbers they were superior to their antagonists, and had theadvantage of a strong position. Sir Thomas Tresham had, as he proposed,left his wife and son at Exeter when the force marched away.
"Do not be despondent, love," he said to his weeping wife, as he badeher goodbye. "Everything is in our favour, and there is a good hope of ahappy termination to this long struggle. But, win or lose, be assured itis the last time I will draw my sword. I have proved my fidelity to theHouse of Lancaster; I have risked life and fortune in their cause; butI feel that I have done my share and more, and whichever way Providencemay now decide the issue of the struggle, I will accept it. If we lose,and I come scatheless through the fight, I will ride hither, and we willembark at Plymouth for France, and there live quietly until the timecomes when Edward may feel himself seated with sufficient firmness onthe throne to forgive past offences and to grant an amnesty to all whohave fought against him. In any other case, dear, you know my wishes,and I bid you carry them out within twenty-four hours of your receivingnews of a defeat, without waiting longer for my appearance."
As soon as it was light, Edward advanced to the attack. The Duke ofGloucester was in command of the vanguard. He himself led the centre,while the rear was commanded by the Marquis of Dorset and Lord Hastings.The most advanced division of Lancastrians was commanded by the Duke ofSomerset and his brother. The Grand Prior of the Order of St. John andLord Wenlock were stationed in the centre, the Earl of Devon withthe reserve. Refreshed by their rest, the queen's troops were in goodspirits. While awaiting the attack, she and the prince rode among theranks, encouraging the men with fiery speeches, and promising largerewards to all in case of victory.
Gloucester made his advance with great difficulty. The obstacles to hisprogress were so many and serious that his division was brought toa halt before it came into contact with the defenders. He thereforebrought up his artillery and opened a heavy cannonade upon Somerset'sposition, supporting his guns with flights of arrows, and inflictingsuch heavy loss upon him that the duke felt compelled to take theoffensive.
Having foreseen that he might be obliged to do so, he had, early in them
orning, carefully examined the ground in front of him, and had foundsome lanes by which he could make a flank attack on the enemy. Movinghis force down these lanes, where the trees and hedges completely hidhis advance from the Yorkists, he fell suddenly upon Edward's centre,which, taken by surprise at the unexpected attack, was driven inconfusion up the hill behind it. Somerset was quick to take advantageof his success, and wheeling his men round fell upon the Duke ofGloucester's division, and was equally successful in his attack uponit. Had the centre, under Lord Wenlock, moved forward at once to hissupport, the victory would have been assured; but Wenlock lay inactive,and Somerset was now engaged in conflict with the whole of Edward'sforce. But even under these circumstances he still gained ground, whensuddenly the whole aspect of the battle was changed.
Before it began Edward had sent two hundred spearmen to watch a woodnear the defenders' lines, as he thought that the Lancastrians mightplace a force there to take him in flank as he attacked their front. Heordered them, if they found the wood unoccupied, to join in the fightas opportunity might offer. The wood was unoccupied, and the spearmen,seeing the two divisions of their army driven backwards, and beingthereby cut off from their friends, issued from the wood and, chargingdown in a body, fell suddenly upon Somerset's rear.
Astounded and confused by an attack from such a quarter, and believingthat it was an act of treachery by one of their own commanders,Somerset's men, who had hitherto been fighting with the greatestbravery, fell into confusion. Edward's quick eye soon grasped theopportunity, and rallying his troops he charged impetuously down uponthe Lancastrians, seconded hotly by Gloucester and his division.
The disorder in Somerset's lines speedily grew into a panic, and thedivision broke up and fled through the lanes to the right and left.Somerset, after in vain trying to stop the panic, rode furiously backinto the camp, followed by his principal officers, and riding up toLord Wenlock he cleft his head in two with a battleaxe. His resentment,although justified by the inactivity of this nobleman at such a crisis,was yet disastrous, as it left the centre without a leader, and threwit into a state of disorganization, as many must have supposed thatSomerset had turned traitor and gone over to the enemy. Before anydisposition could be made, Edward and Gloucester poured their forcesinto the camp, and the Lancastrians at once broke and fled. Many oftheir leaders took refuge in the church, an asylum which they deemedinviolable, and which the Lancastrians had honourably respected in theirhour of triumph.
Among them were the Duke of Somerset, the Grand Prior of the Orderof St. John, Sir Humphrey Audely, Sir Gervis of Clifton, Sir WilliamGainsby, Sir William Cary, Sir Henry Rose, Sir Thomas Tresham, and sevenesquires. Margaret of Anjou fell into the hands of the victors. As tothe fate of the young prince, accounts differ. Some authorities say thathe was overtaken and slain on the field, but the majority related thathe was captured and taken before Edward, who asked him, "What broughtyou to England?" On his replying boldly, "My father's crown and mine owninheritance," Edward struck him in the mouth with his gauntlet, and hisattendants, or some say his brothers, at once despatched the youth withtheir swords.
The king, with Gloucester and Clarence, then went to the church atTewkesbury, where the knights had taken refuge, burst open the doors,and entered it. A priest, bearing the holy vessels, threw himself beforethe king, and would not move until he promised to pardon all who hadtaken sanctuary there. The king then retired, and trusting in the royalword, the gentlemen made no attempt to escape, although it is said thatthey could easily have done so. Two days later a party of soldiers bythe king's orders broke into the church, dragged them from the foot ofthe altar, and beheaded them outside.
The news of the issue of the fatal battle of Tewkesbury, the capture ofthe queen, and the death of the prince, was borne to Exeter by fugitiveson the following day. Beyond the fact that the Earl of Devon and othernobles were known to have been killed, and Somerset with a party ofknights had taken sanctuary, they could give no details as to the fateof individuals. In the deepest distress at the utter ruin of the cause,and in ignorance of the fate of her husband, who she could only hope wasone of those who had gained sanctuary, Dame Tresham prepared for flight.This accomplished, she had only to wait, and sit in tearless anguish atthe window, listening intently whenever a horseman rode past. All nighther watch continued. Gervaise, who had cried himself to sleep, lay ona couch beside her. Morning dawned, and she then knew that her husbandwould not come, for had he escaped from the field he would long ere thishave been with her. The messenger with the news had arrived at eight theprevious morning, and, faithful to her husband's wishes, at that hourshe ordered the horses to be brought round, and, joining a partyof gentlemen who were also making for the coast, rode with them toPlymouth. Arrangements were at once made with the captain of a smallship in the port, and two days later they landed at Honfleur, whereSir Thomas had enjoined his wife to wait until she heard from him orobtained sure news of his fate.
A week after her arrival the news was brought by other fugitives of theviolation of the sanctuary by the king, and the murder of Somerset andthe gentlemen with him, of whom Sir Thomas Tresham was known to havebeen one.
The blow proved fatal to Dame Tresham. She had gone through many trialsand misfortunes, and had ever borne them bravely, but the loss of herhusband completely broke her down. Save to see his wishes concerningtheir son carried out, she had no longer any interest in life or anywish to live. But until the future of Gervaise was assured, her missionwas unfulfilled. His education was her sole care; his mornings werespent at a monastery, where the monks instructed the sons of such of thenobles and gentry of the neighbourhood as cared that they should be ableto read and write. In the afternoon he had the best masters in the townin military exercises. His evenings he spent with his mother, who stroveto instill in him the virtues of patience, mercy to the vanquished, andvalour, by stories of the great characters of history. She herself spenther days in pious exercises, in attending the services of the Church,and in acts of charity and kindness to her poorer neighbours. But herstrength failed rapidly, and she was but a shadow of her former selfwhen, two years and a half after her arrival at Honfleur, she felt thatif she was herself to hand Gervaise over to the Order of St. John, shemust no longer delay. Accordingly she took ship to London, and landingthere made her way with him to the dwelling of the Order at Clerkenwell.It was in process of rebuilding, for in 1381 it had been first plunderedand then burned by the insurgents under Wat Tyler. During the ninetyyears that had elapsed since that event the work of rebuilding hadproceeded steadily, each grand prior making additions to the pile which,although not yet fully completed, was already one of the grandest andstateliest abodes in England.
On inquiring for the grand prior, and stating that she had a letterof importance for him, Dame Tresham and her son were shown up to hisapartment, and on entering were kindly and courteously received by himwhen informed that she was the widow of the late Sir Thomas Tresham.
"I am the bearer of a letter for you, given into my hand by my husband'sdear friend your predecessor," she said, "a few days before his murderat Tewkesbury. It relates to my son here."
The grand prior opened the letter and read it.
"Assuredly, madam, I will carry out the wishes here expressed," he said."They are, that I should forward at once the letter he has given you toSir Peter D'Aubusson, and that until an answer is received from him, Ishould take care of the boy here, and see that he is instructed in allthat is needful for a future knight of our Order. I grieve to see thatyou yourself are looking so ill."
"My course is well nigh run," she said. "I have, methinks, but a fewdays to live. I am thankful that it has been permitted to me to carryout my husband's wishes, and to place my boy in your hands. That done,my work on earth is finished, and glad indeed am I that the time is athand when I can rejoin my dear husband."
"We have a building here where we can lodge ladies in distress or need,Dame Tresham, and trust that you will take up your abode there."
"
I shall indeed be thankful to do so," she replied. "I know no one inLondon, and few would care to lodge a dying woman."
"We are Hospitallers," the grand prior said. "That was our sole missionwhen we were first founded, and before we became a military order, andit is still a part of our sworn duty to aid the distressed."
A few minutes later Dame Tresham was conducted to a comfortableapartment, and was given into the charge of a female attendant. The nextday she had another interview with the grand prior, to whom she handedover her jewels and remaining money. This she prayed him to devote tothe furnishing of the necessary outfit for Gervaise. She spent the restof the day in the church of the hospital, had a long talk with her sonin the evening, giving him her last charges as to his future life andconduct, and that night, as if she had now fulfilled her last duty onearth, she passed away, and was found by her attendant lying with a lookof joy and peacefulness on her dead face.
Gervaise's grief was for a time excessive. He was nearly twelve yearsold, and had never until now been separated from her even for a day. Shehad often spoken to him of her end being near, but until the blow camehe had never quite understood that it could be so. She had, on the nightbefore her death, told him that he must not grieve overmuch for her, forthat in any case they must have soon been sundered, and that it wasfar better that he should think of her as at rest, and happy, than asleading a lonely and sorrowful life.
The grand prior, however, wisely gave him but little time to dwell uponhis loss, but as soon as her funeral had taken place, handed him overto the knights who had the charge of the novices on probation, andinstructed them in their military exercises, and of the chaplain whotaught them such learning as was considered requisite for a knight ofthe Order.
The knights were surprised at the proficiency the lad had alreadyattained in the use of his weapons.
"By St. Agatha," one of them exclaimed, after the conclusion of hisfirst lesson, "you have had good teachers, lad, and have availedyourself rarely of them. If you go on like this you will become adistinguished knight of our Order. With a few more years to strengthenyour arms I warrant me you will bear your part well in your first tusslewith the Moslem corsairs."
It fortunately happened that a party of knights were starting for Rhodesa few days after the admission of Gervaise to the Hospital, and theletter to Sir Peter D'Aubusson was committed to their charge. They wereto proceed to Bordeaux by ship, then to journey by land to Marseilles,and thence, being joined by some French knights, to sail direct toRhodes. Two months later an answer was received. D'Aubusson wrote to thegrand prior saying that he would gladly carry out the last wishes of hisdead friend, and that he had already obtained from the grand master theappointment of Gervaise Tresham as one of his pages, and begged that hemight be sent out with the next party of knights leaving England. Itwas three months before such an opportunity occurred. During that timeGervaise remained at the house of St. John's studying diligently, andcontinuing his military exercises. These were severe; for the scions ofnoble houses, who hoped some day to distinguish themselves as knights,were put through many gymnastic exercises--were taught to spring on toa horse when clad in full armour, to wield heavy battleaxes, to run andclimb, and to prepare themselves for all the possibilities of the modeof fighting of the day.
Gervaise gained the encomiums, not only of his special preceptor, but ofthe various knights in the house, and of the grand prior himself, bothfor his strength and activity, and for the earnestness with which heworked. When the time approached for his leaving England, the grandprior ordered for him the outfit which would be necessary in hisposition as a page of the grand master. The dresses were numerous andrich, for although the knights of St. John wore over their armour thesimple mantle of their order, which was a sleeveless garment of blackrelieved only by a white cross on the chest, they indulged in the finestand most costly armour, and in rich garments beneath their black mantleswhen not in armour.
"I am well pleased with you, Gervaise," the grand prior said, on theevening before he was to leave, "and I see in you the making of avaliant knight of the Order. Maintain the same spirit you have shownhere; be obedient and reverent to your superiors; give your whole mindto your duties; strive earnestly during the three or four years thatyour pagedom will last, to perfect yourself in military exercises, thatwhen the time comes for you to buckle on armour you will be able to bearyourself worthily. Remember that you will have to win your knighthood,for the Order does not bestow this honour, and you must remain aprofessed knight until you receive it at the hands of some distinguishedwarrior. Ever bear in mind that you are a soldier of the Cross. Avoidluxury, live simply and modestly; be not led away by others, upon whomtheir vows may sit but lightly; keep ever in your mind that you havejoined the Order neither to gain fame nor personal advantage, but simplythat you may devote the strength and the intelligence that God has givenyou to protect Christendom from the advance of the infidel. I shallhear of you from time to time from D'Aubusson, and feel sure that theexpectations I have formed of you will be fulfilled."
