All now passed in almost profound silence. The king and his aid mounted, and, followed by Longpole with his trumpet, issued forth through two gates into the park, where, taking the wildest and most unfrequented paths, they made a large circuit, in order that their approach might seem from any other quarter than the palace. After gaining the forest on Shooter's Hill, the king led the way through one of the roads in the wood, to what we may call the back of Blackheath, on the very verge of which they might behold a group of gentlemen on horseback, with a crowd of lookers-on afoot, disposed in such sort as to show that their exercises were begun. The spot which they had chosen was a very convenient one for their purpose: shaded on the south by a grove of high elms, whose very situation has not been traceable for more than two centuries, but which then afforded a width of shade sufficient for several coursers to wheel and charge therein, without the eyes of the riders being dazzled by the morning sunshine. At the foot of these trees extended an ample green, soft, smooth, and even, round which the tilters had pitched the staves and drawn the ropes, marking the limits of the field; and at the northern end was erected a little tent for them to arm in before, and rest after, the course. The four knights themselves, who had met to try their arms, together with several grooms, an armourer, a mule to bear the spears, and two horses for the armour, with their several drivers, formed the group within the lists, which, in the wide-extended plain whereon they stood, looked but a spot, and would have seemed still less had it not been for the crowd of idlers that hung about the ground, and the four knightly pennons, which, disposed in a line, with a few yards' distance between them, caught the eye as it wandered over the heath, and attracted it to the spot by their flutter and their gaudy hues.
The king paused for a moment to observe them, and then beckoning Longpole to come up, "Now, ride on, trumpet!" cried he; "blow a challenge, and then say that two strange knights claim to break two lances each, and pass away unquestioned."[[13]]
At this command Longpole rode forward, and while Henry and his master followed more slowly, blew a defiance on his trumpet at the entrance of the lists, and then in a loud voice pronounced the message with which the king had charged him.
As he finished, Henry and Sir Osborne presented themselves; and Sir Thomas Neville, the chief of the other party, after some consultation with his companions, rode up and replied: "Though we are here as a private meeting, for our own amusement only, yet we will not refuse to do the pleasure of the stranger knights; and as there are four of us, we will each break a spear with one of the counter-party, which will make the two lances a-piece that they require. Suffer the knights to enter," he continued to the keeper of the barrier; and Henry, with the young knight, taking the end of the ground in silence, waited till their lances should be delivered to them.
Whether the tilters suspected or not who was the principal intruder on their sport matters not, though it is indeed more than probable that they did; for it was well known to everybody, that if Henry heard of any rendezvous of the kind, he was almost certain to be present, either privately or avowedly; and indeed on one occasion, recorded by Hall, the chronicler of that day, this romantic spirit had almost cost him dear, the sport being carried on so unceremoniously as nearly to slay the gentleman by whom he was accompanied, and to bring his own life into danger.
On the present occasion no words passed between the two parties, and after a few minutes' conversation amongst the original holders of the ground as to who should first furnish the course to the strangers, Sir Thomas Neville presented himself opposite to the king, and Sir Henry Poynings, one of the best knights of the day, prepared to run against Sir Osborne. "Now do your best, my knight," said the king to his aid; "you have got a noble opponent."
The spears were delivered, the knights couched their lances, and galloping on against each other like lightning, the tough ash staves were shivered in a moment against their adversaries' casques.
"Valiantly done!" said Henry to Sir Osborne, as they returned to their place; "valiantly done! You struck right in the groove of the basnet, and wavered not an inch. Who are these two, I wonder? They have their beavers down."
While he spoke the spears were again delivered; and upon what impulse, or from what peculiar feeling, would be difficult to say, but Sir Osborne felt a strong inclination to unhorse his opponent; and couching his lance with dexterous care, as far as possible to prevent its splintering, he struck him in full course upon the gorget, just above its junction with the corslet, and bore him violently backwards to the ground, where he lay apparently deprived of sense.
By this time the king had shivered his lance, and some of the attendants ran up to unlace the fallen man's helmet, when, to his surprise, Sir Osborne beheld the countenance of Sir Payan Wileton. He appeared to be much hurt by his fall; but that was a thing of such common occurrence in those days, that no further notice was ever taken of an accident of the kind than by giving the injured person all the assistance that could be administered at the time.