CHAPTER XXI
THE TOURNAMENT
After a night of refreshing, sweet oblivion we awakened bright and strong, well fitted for a day of tilting. It was uncommon early to be stirring; but Richard had given out that the games should commence about the hour of ten; therefore it was necessary to rise early, in order that we might have ample time in which to look over the ground and judge its character, previous to our arming for the fray.
Cool and fresh was the morning; but the cloudless sky and bright-faced sun were indications of a greater warmth when the day should be further advanced.
Shortly after we had breakfasted the King, who had spent the night upon the field instead of at his Palace, rode around the lists, attended by Buckingham, Stanley, Lovell, Ratcliffe and Catesby. Richard wore not his armour; but all of the others were fully armed, but for the lack of their helms; instead of which they wore caps of velvet.
"Ah! Walter, thou art at last to have an opportunity to slake thy thirst for vengeance; for Catesby seemeth ready to take to the field at once," said Harleston, as we stood at the opening of our tent and watched them as they made their tour of inspection.
I smiled my satisfaction.
"Wilt thou ride with headless spear, or wilt thou use the point, and make thy prize his blood, as well as arms?"
"I desire not his steed nor arms," I answered. "No, Frederick, I would rather have the last red drop that now is in his heart than wear King Richard's crown. Long have I kept me quiet, and but little have I spoken of the insulting cur since first mine ears did hear of his black-coward's act. Well dost thou know the human heart, my friend, and mine the best of all. It must be plain to thee that when the coals are left upon the hearth, withouten wood to cause a showy flame, they burn with greater, though more quiet, heat. I made a promise to the Lady Hazel that I would not challenge him to meet me in a duel. Therefore have I held my peace, and waited for such an opportunity as this for working my revenge upon him. If I can kill the knave upon this field I'll do so with as light a heart as any ever worn by man."
"Right, right! my friend," cried Frederick. "I wondered how thou, for this long time since, didst tie down that impatient spirit of thine, and wait with patience for thy vengeance. Thou art a true knight, Sir Walter. Mild when not roused; but when thy spleen is stirred thou art as fiery as the devil," and he grasped my hand and slapped me on the shoulder, as was his familiar custom.
The people from the city commenced now to arrive. Some were mounted, but the majority either rode in carts or came in the less pretentious style—afoot.
"By Heaven!" said Frederick, "and they stop not coming in such numbers we knights shall be compelled to withdraw us from the field and leave it to the tradesmen."
"Come," said I, "'tis time that we should arm. What ho! Michael! where the devil art thou?" Michael, contrary to his habit, did not appear when I called. I walked to the tent door and called again. Then, as I looked beyond the barriers that kept the spectators from crowding into the space reserved for the tents of the knights, I saw him just leaving two old ladies, after having procured for them comfortable seats, in a position from where their eyes commanded an excellent view of the field; and being in that part opposite to where sat the King. I stood in the doorway, awaiting Michael's return, and wondering who the old ladies were to whom he showed such attention.
When Michael, as he hurried back, raised his eyes and beheld me gazing at him, I heard him mutter, in his short, quick way, which ever so amused me:—"Hill!"
When he came up to me he said:—"Pardon sor; but sor, thim ladies, Oi'm jist after asittin' down, is friends o' a wourthy and gallant knoight who hath ivir bin most koind to a poor orphan loike moysilf, sor; and they axed me to foind me a sate fer thim, sor, and Oi hadn't the heart to refuse thim, sor; though had Oi known that yer honour wanted me so soon Oi'd have bin a dale quicker than Oi was, sor."
"I knew not that thou wert known so well among the knighthood of England," I answered with a smile. "But come, Michael, thou needst not to crave pardon of Sir Walter Bradley when thou dost serve such a noble purpose. The ladies, whether known to us or not, come before all true knights or gentlemen; and 'tis when we pay respect to them that we do ennoble ourselves."
"Yis sor," said Michael, as he buckled on my breast plate. "Oi knew that yer honour would pardon me fer lavin' ye, whin Oi tould what moine errand was." This as he buckled on a shoulder-piece.
"Uh! what a pity, sor, to have sich armour, with all that gould in it, dinted with the pint o' a spear," said he, when he had fastened on all but my helm.
The trumpets now sounded a warning blast, and the heralds rode forth and entered the lists at the southern extremity, all their gay trappings tossing in the pleasant morning wind.
Michael, after finishing his employment, by fastening on my sword and lacing my splendid head-piece, went to the pile of lances, from which he selected one both straight and heavy, but having no point.
"Not that to-day, Michael; for the rules of this joust do permit of pointed weapons."
"Uh! sure thin, sor, that impudint Catesby 'll take his dinner with his master, the divil, this day; fer will do Oi know, sor, that he's the varmint yer honour's after."
I always forgave Michael for his familiarity; for without it he should not have been Michael, and never did it harm me. At this remark about Catesby I merely smiled and said:—"Have a headless spear ready, lest I do need one also."
"Oi'll do that same, sor; but Oi'd loike to see yon Catesby's blood upon the pint o' this, sor," and he motioned with his head in the direction of mine enemy's tent and patted the point of the lance. The faithful fellow always looked on Catesby as an enemy common to himself and me.
Again the trumpets rang out full merrily, both long and loud. Then the heralds, which had halted in the centre of the field, separated, one remaining in the centre and the other two riding with their backs to one another until one reached the North and the other the South end of the lists, where each took his especial post. Then the one which had remained in the centre called out the rules of this passage of arms.
After the customary prologue, that I ever considered tedious and unnecessary; for Heaven knows even the balance of these fellow's speeches is long enough, he at length reached the part that he had set out to say.
"Know, all ye true knights and gentlemen of his Most Gracious Majesty of England, Ireland and of France, or of whatever other Sovereign King ye may be faithful subjects, that any knight, of proper standing and untarnished honour, shall here be permitted to enter for these tilts. All such aforesaid valiant knights and gentlemen, which have not ere this had their names placed upon the recorder's list, are hereby warned to do so now, with all expediency, or be content to live without the honour of taking part in these noble contests. Any untarnished knight now has the privilege of challenging to combat, either courteous or martial, any other such knight, whose name is on the record for this joust. When such a number of these tilts as his Most Gracious Majesty doth consider to be proper shall have been decided, from amongst the names contained in the recorder's sheets shall be selected, by means of draft, two parties of twelve knights each, to which said parties shall be added one other knight for each party, which knight shall have the honourable post of leader, each of his particular party, by whom he shall be drawn.
"In tilts of courtesy lances without heads must alone be used. In the more warlike contests both knightly weapons may be used at the discretion of, and the manner most pleasing to, the combatants.
"Any contest shall be considered at an end only at such time as his Majesty, King Richard, shall see fit to signal for its stoppage by the honourable marshals of the field, or when one or the other of the opposing champions shall have owned himself up defeated.
"His Most Gracious Majesty will decide who is the victor in each separate contest; and to the victor shall go the arms and armour, together with the charger and its equipment.
"In the more fiercer contest of the thirteen good knights on each side, they shall fight with pointed lance and with the sword until his Majesty doth see good to cause the contest to be stopped. Then will his Majesty decide which is the winner in the contest. And to the victors shall go the spoils, the same as in the single contests.
"God save King Richard!"
"God save King Richard!" replied the other heralds.
"God save King Richard!" cried the people, as though they meant the words they said.
"God save King Richard!" echoed the city's walls.
Then the herald at the southern extremity of the lists sang forth the same long-winded recitation in the self same monotone, that added nothing to the clearness of the rules, which might have been said in two score of words.
When the third had followed the example of his fellows they all three withdrew from the lists, and the marshals of the field rode forth from where they had been waiting, drawn up in line, armoured and armed as though for a day of battle, and took their posts in groups at the four corners of the field, ready to do their duty.
My horse, fully caparisoned and impatient, like his master, for the field, my groom now led to where I stood, by Harleston's side, before my tent. Hastily mounting I rode down to the barrier gate that gave entry to the lists.
My friend overtook me as I reached the gate. He was mounted upon a splendid charger of a chestnut hue, as I could see from the only visible part of the animal, namely, his legs. Frederick sat his saddle like an armoured statue. Verily, my children, and without conceit I say it, to a spectator we looked as though but few upon that field would have the courage to touch either shield with any other than a pointless lance.
Much then was my surprise when the gate at the end further from where we waited, with impatient plumes and restless pennants, was, for some reason unknown to all of us knights which waited at the North, flung open, whilst ours remained closed. At this opening in dashed a knight which, when he came sufficient close, I recognized, by his device, to be none other than mine old foe, Catesby. Straight he rode up to where I sat, grinding my teeth together, as silently I cursed my fortune for preventing me from riding forth to meet him, that I might strike his shield with my lance's point—for verily did I believe he came thus soon to foil my purpose by challenging me to fight with pointless weapon. On he came and, to my great surprise and pleasure, struck he my shield with the sharp point of his lance.
Ah! my brave sons, ye all do know the pleasure 'tis when, with ring of shield, ye are informed an enemy hath come to do ye battle.
Now were the separating bars removed, and, as Catesby rode to the far end at a gentle trot, I entered with alacrity the field.
As Catesby passed the centre of the lists he paused for a moment whilst, with much grace, he saluted the King, and then the ladies. His example I followed.
After this came much cheering, and well meant advice, from those which thought they better understood the game at which we were about to play than we ourselves did. Most of these warnings came from old warriors of other days, veterans of our great civil wars.
The trumpets now rang out from their metal throats the signal for the fray. Forward we dashed, like two opposing thunderbolts. The hot wind of the summer's morn whistled past mine ears, and sounded like unto when one by accident doth irritate the canvas of his tent by scraping against it with his scabbard's point, causing it to raise its high-pitched voice in protest against the affront. The space betwixt us closed up as quickly as when one with haste doth shut the covers of a book. A crash! a benumbing twinge from finger's tips to shoulder;—a blow, as from a hammer, on the shield;—the steeds stand up and paw the air madly, as does a man when struggling in the waters;—my helm's plumes do bend before mine eyes;—and when the particles of sand are borne aside by the gentle broom of Nature I hold in my gauntlet's grasp only a cloth yard's length of shivered spear. As, with a pat upon my good steed's neck, I brought him to his fore feet, Catesby, whose lance had met a fate similar to mine own, with brandished sword now dashed afresh upon me. His lighter weight had enabled him to regain control of his steed ere I had mastered mine. No time was there for thought. As he leaped forward I flung with my full force, straight at his iron head, the remnant of my lance. His horse, affrighted at this strange weapon, swung from its course to avoid it, and thus saved his master from the blow. This gave me the respite I wanted, and of which I took advantage by drawing mine own good sword.
Loud cheered the crowd of spectators when they saw how equal had been the tilt; and louder again did they shout when they saw us, with clamorous blows, hotly engaged in sword play. One voice, clear and distinct above all others did I hear, and pleased was I when I heard its rich full ring, as its possessor used to their utmost strength his mighty lungs. It was Michael.
I drove my spurs into my horse's flanks and bounded at mine antagonist with the speed of lightning. He avoided my rush in time to save himself; but my steed, with his shoulders, struck his in the hind quarters, and almost bore mine opponent to the earth. As I passed him in my career I struck at him a backhand blow; but he caught it, with great dexterity, upon his shield.
Again did the applause burst forth with all its discordant notes.
Wheeling quickly around I again rode at him, with my sword swung far behind my shoulder, determined to beat him from his saddle. I stood up in my stirrups, and with the full force of my sword arm I drove a blow fairly at his plumaged head. He caught it right manfully upon his shield; but the blow was so powerful that he might as well have held up a frail piece of wood. The keen edge of my sword broke through the buckler's curving surface and forced the wounded steel protector, and its supporting arm, with stunning force against their master's head. He reeled slightly in his saddle; and, ere he could regain control of his scattered senses, again did my remorseless blade fall on his helmet crest, with the sound like the driving of an iron spike between a stone wall's members, by means of a heavy hammer. His horse sprang forward with its master's senseless body crushed down upon the saddle. Then the steed swerved from its straight course, and Catesby lurched and fell headlong, like an armoured scare-crow, all joints and not a bone, into the dusty lists.
The King signed to the heralds, and the trumpets warned the marshals to stop the fight; for in my passion I rode to where mine enemy lay, and, truly, I would have given him his quietus but for the marshal's interference. They bore him to his tent, and I saw no more of him that day. He was not killed however, and this did greatly disappoint me.
Sharply I spurred my steed till he sprang forward and upward like the carrier of Valkyrie. Amid the acclamations of the spectators who, as they ever do, waved their scarfs and bonnets like creatures dispossessed of reason I dashed up before the King's seat and, pulling suddenly upon the rein, caused my good steed to paw the air with his fore feet whilst, with a low bow and a wave of my faithful sword, I respectfully saluted the Usurper.
He acknowledged my salute; but methought the smile that he did wear had, lurking behind it somewhere, a sentiment that, to say the least, was not favourable to me.
After saluting mine enthusiastic admirers (which would bestow the same attentions upon another knight were he to ride out and slay me in the next tilt) I galloped back to the northern barrier. Here my dear friend Frederick did warmly shake me by the hand, whilst Michael went almost mad with delight. So loud, and sometimes profane, were his remarks about Catesby's defeat that I unwillingly was compelled to keep him in some check.
Two other knights now took the field and fought with pointless weapons. This was but a not interesting combat; as the challenger was, in the first course run, thrown from his saddle with a considerable force, after having shown his miserable command of his weapon by altogether missing his opponent; his lance passing harmlessly past his adversary's right shoulder. For this exhibition of the lack of all skill he was prohibited from taking any further part in the tournament, and his name was stricken from the list.
Some three or four other pairs of lances were shivered, and then Harleston gave an exhibition of the most skilled and perfectest way of unhorsing a knight that ever I had, before that day, seen. He entered the lists and rode, with stately ease and graceful respect, past the ladies and the King, until he reached the spot where Sir Thomas Falstone was sitting his horse in a listless fashion, as though he felt assured that no one there would dare to touch his shield. For Sir Thomas was considered one of the first, if not the very first, lance in England at that time; he having been chosen to represent the late King Edward in the last tournament given by that indolent Sovereign. My friend, with a courtly inclination of his head, struck the shield of Sir Thomas a gentle blow with the blunt end of his spear, and then did he rein back his steed that he might return to receive his pointless weapon.
"Tarry an instant, Sir Knight," called out Sir Thomas.
"I await thy speech," replied Frederick.
"Hast thou grown tired of sitting on yon saddle, that thou dost wish to be removed from off its irritating back? Be assured, young sir, 'twere more gentle, far, wert thou to have thy squire remove thee."
"Thou dost mistake my purpose," replied my friend; "I come but to awaken thee from thy dreams of past conquests; which are but poor weapons with which to fight fresh battles, unless other arms be brought to their assistance."
At this rebuff to the over-confident knight the King laughed both long and loud, and of course the courtiers which surrounded him followed his example.
"By the light of Heaven, thou shalt pay dearly for thine insolence when I do hurl thee from thy saddle as a stone goeth from its sling!" called out the enraged Sir Thomas, as my friend rode at a gentle walk in the direction of the northern end.
When he heard this Harleston turned hastily around, and rode back to Sir Thomas and said:—
"As thou still dreamest, methinks 'twere better to arouse thee with the point," and he did strike the surprised knight's shield with the armed end of his lance, and caused it to ring out right lustily.
"Ah! that is better," laughed Sir Thomas. "Now I may have the pleasure of spitting thee like a rotten apple and then hurling thee from my lance's point."
"Verily thou speakest from experience," returned Sir Frederick; "thou hast, no doubt, been in the habit of spitting rotten apples, and nothing more dangerous; else where didst thou get leisure to grow yon ponderous paunch, next to thy speech, the most formidable part of thee?" And amid a roar of applause and laughter he rode back to where I waited. Here he handed to his squire the lance he carried, and in its place he chose another, very heavy and unwieldy, as I thought; but to balance these defects it did have a much greater strength than the one with which he had challenged.
The two knights now took their places, and the trumpets again rang out the signal for the contest.
Both horses dashed forward as though they had been connected, in some invisible way, with the voice of the trumpets.
Sir Thomas aimed straight at Harleston's visor; evidently for the double purpose of exhibiting his skill and administering a severe blow to his opponent.
Sir Frederick, to my great surprise, seemed aiming more at his adversary's horse than at the rider. I could not believe that he did intend committing such a breach of the rules of chivalry; and yet it was clear his point was not directed to the rider.
A heavy blow;—a clatter;—and a cloud of dust, and my friend rides bravely on, waving on high a lance without a point; and here, racing madly towards the northern end, doth come Sir Thomas's steed, without its rider or its saddle.
Harleston had, at the last moment, swung his head to the one side, avoiding the other's point; thus he had escaped unharmed.
But how did Sir Thomas's horse come to be without a saddle as well as riderless?
It happened thus, as my friend told me, when, amidst great cheering, he rode back to where I sat waving my lance and cheering with the others. He had aimed, not at his adversary's horse, as had appeared, but at that part of his saddle where the lance doth lie in rest. This mark he did hit fairly, and the fury of the onset, aided by the heavy spear, caused his opponent's saddle girths to break; and thus Sir Thomas was ignominiously unhorsed, and his gay trappings heaped upon him.
It was a dangerous game to play; for had Harleston so much as scratched, with his lance, his adversary's steed, he had then been disgraced.
Harleston was satisfied with the punishment he had administered in return for the other's boasting, and did not further molest the fallen knight. And indeed there had been but little honour in pressing his victory to a completer stage; for 'twas with great difficulty that Sir Thomas's grooms were able to lift up their bulky master and assist him from the field.
I now rode forth again, and, stopping in the centre of the lists, I opened my visor and, standing up in my stirrups, I called out at the full power of my speech:—
"Know, all true knights here assembled to take part in this noble joust, that I, Walter Bradley, hereby challenge any true knight among ye, which doth desire so to do, to break a lance, with or without a point, as the aforesaid knight doth desire."
For the space of whilst one might tell an hundred no one appeared. At the end of this time, however, a knight, as though in haste, dashed into the lists and, riding with the ease of an accomplished horseman, advanced rapidly to where I waited. He gently touched my shield with the butt of his lance.
On his shield was no device; but his rich inlaid armour, and the courtly bearing of its wearer, seemed to mine eyes as though this were not the first time they had beheld this unknown champion.
As we passed each other in turning, the stranger, in a hurried voice, whose accent told me he was no Englishman, said:—
"I have a message for thee, Sir Walter. May I see thee in thy tent?" There was no time for more.
"Yes," I answered, in the same low tone.
As I rode back to take up my position for the tilt my mind kept tormenting me in its desire to recall where and when I had before heard that voice. The attempt was useless; so placing my lance in rest I made ready for the trumpet's signal.
Loud did they blow.
A rushing rattle, followed by a clattering, tearing sound, and both spears burst into a thousand slivers, as though some foul fiend had been confined within the shaft of each, and at the instant of encounter they spread apart their arms and threw their frail wooden prisons from them with the contempt that Sampson had for cords.
Neither had an advantage. Both his horse and mine own were forced back on their haunches; but we both kept our seats full firm.
And thus in succession did we break three pairs of lances' without either being able to unhorse, or gain any perceptible advantage over the other. Therefore our contest was declared to be a fair and equal one, without a victor.
After this the heralds again rode into the lists and announced that no more single contests should be permitted; but that the contest of the six and twenty knights should be the next feature of that day's list of exhibitions of knightly feats of arms.
However, preceding this there was now to be an exhibition of skilful archery and sword play, by the yeomanry of England, and the men-at-arms.
When this announcement was made the majority of the knights withdrew them to their tents, as they had no interest in these contests.
Soon after my friend and I had dismounted and entered our tent the knight with whom I had last contended, and which had so strangely spoken with me in the lists, came to where Michael stood before the door and enquired of him if his master were within.
Hearing his voice I went to the door and invited him to enter.
"Ah! Monsieur, I hope that I intrude not," said he, as he saw Harleston with me.
"Nay, be assured Sir Knight, whose name I have not the honour of knowing, that any message that thou art pleased to give me shall be common to my friend, Sir Frederick Harleston, and me."
"Then everything is well. I may then speak out boldly and inform you, gentlemen, what is my true name: and I now do tell ye that it is to but few here that it is known. My name then is Count Louis de Saint-Esteve, though in England, upon my present mission, I am known as Sir Gil de Trailles."
We expressed our pleasure at the acquaintance and asked him to be seated. I then ordered Michael to close the flap of the tent, and to himself remain outside, to see that no one should overhear our conversation; for I could see by the stranger's manner that what he had to say was most secret.
After a silence of a few moments he said, in an almost whisper:—
"My business in England upon the present occasion is on the Earl of Richmond's account. Her Majesty, the ex-Queen of the Royal Edward, hath informed me that both of you gentlemen are in her confidence. I therefore speak thus freely of the Earl's plans. In a short time he shall land in England. The usurping King Richard shall be given to understand that the landing shall be made upon the eastern coast. On the contrary, the noble Earl shall land in Wales, where he hath many followers. Buckingham, Lord Stanley, and his brother are the most powerful of the Earl's friends. However, Lord Stanley is not to declare in favour of the noble Richmond until the day of battle; when the Usurper's forces shall melt away as doth the snow in Spring. An usurping tyrant cannot prosper; and what should be black treachery, in another case, in this is but God's retribution."
"But how long shall it be ere the Earl of Richmond doth land?" asked Harleston.
"So soon as the Duke of Buckingham rebels in Wales," replied the Frenchman. "Any day," he continued, "ye may expect to hear that this latter hath happened. Watch then and be prepared; for deliverance is near at hand.
"But now I come to that part of my mission that most affects thee, Sir Walter. The ex-Queen, this morning as I was leaving the Sanctuary, commissioned me to acquaint thee with a plot to ruin thee most thoroughly.
"Thine enemy, that one which doth play the dog for Richard, hath informed his master of the part that he doth suspect that thou didst play at Stony Stratford. Before he came to such a position of influence with the Usurper he feared to so inform on thee. But now that he doth practically rule England he hath planned for thy destruction. His object in so doing is no doubt better known to thee than it is to me. 'Twas Lord Stanley who informed the ex-Queen, and he had it from Richard himself, who now doth trust Stanley as though he had ever loved him."
"I thank thee much for thy kindness in thus warning me of the danger that doth threaten," I replied; "but I scarce see what better I can do than remain still at court, until Earl Henry doth arrive in England. The time, you say, is short; therefore Catesby shall not have long in which to work his vengeance.
"The Usurper cannot molest me unless he doth have more reason for so doing than Catesby's mere suspicion."
"Did the young and rightful King have fair trial, and was he convicted of rank treachery to the state?" asked Harleston. Then my friend answered his own question with a definite "No." This was ever his most forcible way of driving home his opinions.
'Twas useless for me to try to deceive myself in regard to the danger threatening me. I ever have considered a man to be but little removed from a fool when he doth despise his enemies. I therefore admitted that my friend was right, and asked for his advice.
"Methinks it were best for thee to betake thee from the court, with all expediency, and journey in the direction of the coast of Wales, in order that thou mayest be ready there to join the Earl of Richmond when he lands," said Frederick, after a brief consideration. "I may remain at court until the last moment, and then follow thine example."
"Thou knowest," said I, "that what thou dost propose is not within the bounds of possibility. How may I leave the Palace, and risk the danger of the Lady Hazel falling into that scoundrel's hands. He desires to be rid of me but that he may have her in his power. Were I to fly his purpose should then be accomplished as well as if my head had fallen on the block. No," I said, with full determination, "here must I remain and risk my fate; there is no other way."
"Why not take the lady with thee, Monsieur?"
"The danger should be too great," I replied.
"Then, gentlemen, I can be of no further assistance," said the Count, as he arose to depart.
"Tarry a moment, Sir Knight," said Harleston; "a glass of wine before thou goest."
"With all my heart," replied the other. And now for the first time since he had entered the tent he opened his visor.
"By Heaven and all its Saints!" cried Harleston; "I felt assured that I had seen yon suit of armour ere this day. Yes," he continued, "the last time I had the honour of meeting thee was on the field of battle; when we took Berwick from the Scots."
"And art thou the knight which did so kindly cut my helm's lace, after hurling me from my steed?"
"The same," laughed my friend; "and thou dost owe Sir Walter and me each a good sword in payment for those that thou didst break that day."
"When I did come to my senses," said the Frenchman, "I thanked Heaven that I had fallen before a gentleman."
Here we each grasped the Frenchman's hands, and we all laughed and were three good friends.
And thus we sat over our wine and talked, until the trumpets of the heralds warned us that it was time to draw for the contest of the six and twenty knights. Mounting our horses we rode to the southern extremity of the lists, where the draughting was to take place.