"The age of chivalry is gone. That of sophisters, economists, and calculators has succeeded."—Burke.
The time had now come about on which De Montfort had promised his daughter to Vigneau. As was the wont invariably of the Normans, the ceremony must be preceded by the usual festivities, the most marked of which was the tournament, or feat of arms. During the reign of our late king Edward, this was one of the things in which the idle and dissolute Norman nobility who came over in swarms spent their time. To my very great sorrow and disappointment, the Saxon nobility copied only too slavishly this vain and foolish propensity, many of the Saxons being quite a match for the most skilful of the Normans. For some weeks before the marriage festivities were to begin, messengers had been sent out to the various Norman encampments situate within a reasonable distance; and many knights were expected to take part in the joust. The place which was selected for this spectacle was near to the castle, and well adapted for the humbler people, who never failed to gather in considerable numbers. The tournament would take place in a considerable hollow, with green hillsides and dense copses around, where a multitude might witness the wondrous pageantry and the struggle for the honours of the day. The central arena, where the knights were to contend, was a spacious enclosure, railed round to the height of about four feet, having two means of entrance and exit, one at each side, directly opposite each other, the one used as an entrance solely. There knights, squires, marshals, judges, etc., were to enter in all the panoply of war and glittering accoutrements. The other opening was used exclusively for purposes of exit. Here discomfited knights, disabled horses, and others who wished to retire might emerge. To the right of the main entrance was a raised platform, covered with rich tapestry, and capable of seating some fifty persons. Upon this platform was a dais, or raised central platform of small dimensions, on which the throne, an elegantly upholstered chair, was placed, and designed for the occupation of the "Queen of Beauty." The crowd were kept waiting considerably after the appointed time, in anticipation of an expected knight from over the sea; from whom a messenger had been sent, announcing his intention of taking part in this knightly fray. Eventually, however, Count de Montfort, amid a flourish of trumpets, issued from the gates of the castle, with his daughter leaning upon his arm, followed by two of her maids and a formidable retinue of invited guests, amongst whom was the Abbot Vigneau, and one or two other ecclesiastics, and a number of Norman guests. De Montfort escorted his daughter to the throne, and Jeannette occupied a seat to the right of her. Most fascinatingly lovely was Alice as she sat in the place of honour, with the victor's chaplet by her side. Pale, nervous, and anxious, but a veritable queen withal she looked—her lustrous dark eyes, and masses of dark wavy hair flowing in graceful undulations over her shoulders, and down to her girdle; her head crowned with a coronet of beautiful flowers, and one solitary gem in the centre. All eyes were upon her. Men of gentle blood marvelled at her surpassing loveliness. Norman men-at-arms and Saxon churls turned dazed and dreamy eyes towards her, with a persistent gaze as of fascination. Most of those present, whether gentle or simple, knew well the manner of man her betrothed was; for Vigneau was notorious in the camp and the cot for his gross villainy; and most knew, or surmised, that to-morrow's nuptial tie would be to her a most hateful tie, and a most unhappy union.
Jeannette sat close to her mistress; but no dark cloud frowned ominously over her as over her mistress. Volatile and mercurial to a degree, she never courted trouble, or recognised his unwelcome visage until it was thrust upon her; though, like most natures of a like temperament, when once fairly cornered, as we have seen, the collapse was pitiable and complete. There, however, she sat, perfectly self-possessed, with an irrepressible flutter of expectation in her heart and unfaltering confidence in her star, which was the wonderful and valorous Wulfhere, whom that day she should see companying with knights and men of renown. There was more than a wonted animation in her eye, and the roses on her cheek had taken a deeper and a rosier tint. All agog with the pleasing promptings of her fluttering little heart, she ran her eyes along the ranks of the common people who lined the enclosure, or stood together in groups, discussing the merits of the combatants who were to take part, and the spectacle which every one looked forward to with such zest. But Saxon and Norman alike of inferior station were to her contemptible; and as her eyes fell upon Paul Lazaire, who with despondent gaze looked at her, she could not restrain a saucy and coquettish smirk of laughter, which Paul, who thought she never looked half so lovely before, put a favourable construction upon, and was greatly comforted.
"Jeannette," said Alice, turning to her anxiously, "I fear the day will be disastrous, and the Saxon knight will be discovered. That would be most fearful; I don't think I could survive it."
"Don't be alarmed, my lady; I am not in the least. Wulfhere and the Earl will be a match for them all, I'm sure."
"But, Jeannette, what could a single knight do, contending with so many foes?"
"One knight truly would not do much; but you forget, my lady, that he is sure to be accompanied by his valiant squire."
"But a solitary esquire would not be of much use. If the Earl be discovered, he would be surrounded and cut to pieces."
"Never fear, my lady, you will see Wulfhere will protect him. He'll soon make an end of a score of this beer-drinking crew."