The Lord of Roucq looked round and watched the whole proceeding, but made no observation; and, after proceeding for about two miles farther on the way, Woodville again changed the order of his men, when the old commander suddenly demanded, "What are you playing such tricks for?"
"For a good reason, sir," replied Richard of Woodville; "I have men under me who have never been accustomed to act together--my own people, those of this young lord, and the men-at-arms of my lord the Count. I know not how soon you may call upon us for service, or what that service may be; and it is needful they should have some practice, that they may be alert at their work. I have learnt that, in time of need, it does not do to lose even a minute in forming line."
"Ay, you Englishmen," replied the old lord, "were always better aware of that fact than we are. There would never have been a Cressy, if Frenchmen would have submitted to discipline. They will fight like devils; but each man has such an opinion of himself, that he will fight in his own way, forgetting that one well-trained man, who obeys orders promptly, is better than a hundred who do nothing but what they like themselves. Ride up and talk with me, young men; I do not see why we should not be friends together, though those satin jackets at Lille did not choose to march with old Walter de Roucq." After speaking with some bitterness of the turbulent spirit and insubordination which existed in all continental armies, the Lord of Roucq led the conversation to the military condition of England, and inquired particularly into the method, not only of training the soldiers of that country, but of educating the youths throughout the land to the early use of arms, which he had heard was customary there.
"Ay, there is the difference between you and us," he said, when Woodville had explained the facts to him;--"you are all soldiers; and your yeomen, as you call them, are as serviceable as your knights and gentlemen. With us, who would ever think of taking a boor from the plough, to make a man-at-arms of him? No one dares to put a steel cap on his head, unless he has some gentle blood in his veins, though it be but half a drop, and then he is as conceited of it as if he were descended from Charlemagne. I have charge to give you, sir, the best occasions," he continued, still addressing Woodville, "and I will not fail; for I see you know what you are about, and will do me no discredit."
"I beseech you, my good lord, to let me share them with him," said Monsieur de Lens; "I am as eager for renown as any man can be."
"You will share them, of course, as one of his band," replied the old soldier, "and I doubt not, young gentleman, will do very well. I will refuse honour to no one who wins it;" and thus conversing, they rode on as far as Pont a Marq, where they found a large body of men-at-arms waiting for the old Lord of Roucq.
Richard of Woodville remarked that they were most of them middle-aged men, with hard and weather-beaten countenances, who had evidently seen a good deal of service; but he observed also that--probably, from the unwillingness of the Burgundian n.o.bility to submit to anything like strict discipline--there seemed to be few persons of distinction in the corps, and not one knight but the old Lord himself. Without any pause, the whole party marched on to Douay, the young Englishman losing no opportunity of exercising his men in such evolutions as the nature of the ground permitted, and many of the old soldiers of De Roucq watching his proceedings in silence, but with an attentive and inquiring eye.
At Douay they halted for an hour and a half, to feed their horses and to take some refreshment; and then marching on, they did not draw a rein again till Cambray appeared in sight. Here all the party expected to remain the night; for Cambray, as the reader well knows, is a good day"s march from Lille, especially for men covered with heavy armour, and for horses who had to carry not only the weight of their masters and their masters" harness, but steel manefaires, testieres, and chanfrons of their own. The orders of the commander, however, showed them, before they entered the gates, that such repose was not to fall to their lot, for he directed them to seek no hostel, but to quarter themselves, without dividing, in the market-place, and there to feed their beasts.
""Tis a fine evening," he said, "and you shall have plenty of food and wine; but we must march on, for an hour or two, at night, that we may be in time to-morrow. If we have more s.p.a.ce than enough in the morning, why the destriers will be all the fresher."
No one ventured to make any reply, though the men-at-arms of the Count of Charolois felt somewhat weary with their unwonted exertion, and would fain have persuaded themselves that their beasts could go no farther that night. Their leader, or vingtner, who held the rank of a sergeant of the present day, and usually commanded twenty men, went so far as to hint his opinion on this subject to Richard of Woodville; but the young Englishman stopped him in an instant, replying coldly, "If your horses break down we must find you others. We have nothing to do but to obey."
The young Englishman took care, however, that the chargers of his whole party should have everything that could refresh them, and he spared not his own purse to procure for them a different sort of food from that which was provided for the rest. The crumb of bread soaked in water was a favourite expedient with the English of that day, as it is now with the Germans, for restoring the vigour of a wearied horse; and he made bold to dip the bread in wine, which, on those beasts that would take it, seemed to produce a very great effect.
After halting for two hours, the march was renewed; and wending slowly onward, they reached the small town--for it was then a town--of Gonlieu, having accomplished a distance of nearly eighteen leagues. It was within half an hour of midnight when they arrived, and the good people of the place had to be roused from their beds to provide them with lodgings; but a party of two hundred men-at-arms was not in that day to be refused anything they might think fit to require; and, in the different houses and stables of the town, they were all at length comfortably housed.
Richard of Woodville was not one of those men who require long sleep to refresh them after any ordinary fatigue; and though, with the care and attention of an Arab, he spent a full hour in inspecting the treatment of his horses before he lay down to rest, yet, after a quiet repose of about four hours and a half, he awoke, and instantly sprang from the pallet which had been provided for him. He then immediately roused the young Lord of Lens, who, with five or six others, slept in the same chamber; but the poor youth gazed wildly round him, at first seeming to have forgotten where he was; and it required a hint from his English friend, that the old Lord of Roucq was a man likely to be up early in the day, ere he could make up his mind to rise.
Woodville and his companion had been in the stable about five minutes, and were just setting the half-awakened horse-boys to their work, when a voice was heard at the open door, saying, "This is well!--this is as it should be!" and, turning round, they saw the figure of the old knight moving slowly away to the quarters of another party.
In an hour more, they were again upon the road; but their march was this day less fatiguing; and Woodville remarked that their veteran leader seemed to expect some intelligence from the country into which they were advancing; for at each halting place he caused inquiries to be made for messengers seeking him, and more than once stopped the peasantry on the road, questioning them strictly, though no one clearly seemed to understand his drift. He seemed, too, to be somewhat undecided as to his course, and talked of going on to Orvillers, or at least to Conchy; but he halted for the night, however, at Tilloloy, and quartered his men in that village and St. Nicaise.
Woodville and his party were lodged in the latter, where also the old commander slept; but about three in the morning the young Englishman was roused by voices speaking, followed by some one knocking at a neighbouring door; and half-raised upon his arm, he was listening to ascertain, if possible, what was the cause of this interruption of their repose, when the door of the room was opened, as far as the body of one of the English yeomen, who slept across it, would permit.
"Halloo! Master Woodville," said the voice of the Lord of Roucq. "Up, and to horse--your beasts are not broken down, I trust?"
"They have had time to rest since six last night," replied Woodville, "and will be found as fresh as ever, for they feed well."
"Like all true Englishmen," answered the old soldier. "Join me below in a minute; I have something to say to you."
Dressing himself, and giving hasty orders for the horses to be fed and led out, the young Englishman went down to the ground-floor, where everything was already in bustle, and perhaps in some confusion. The Lord of Roucq was surrounded by several of his own officers, and was giving them orders in the sharp tones of impatience and hurry.
"Ha! Sir Englishman," he exclaimed, as ho saw Woodville, "how long will it take you to be in the saddle?"
"Half an hour," replied Richard of Woodville.
"And these men want two hours!" cried the old leader. "Well, hark ye!"--and leading Woodville aside, he whispered, ""Tis as well as it is: there will be no jealousy. Get your horses out with all speed, and you shall have the cream of the affair, as I promised the young Count.
You must know I am bound to meet our good Duke at Pont St. Maxence. He makes his escape from Paris this morning; and as he brings but four men with him, I fear there may be those who will try to stop him. His plan is, to go out to hunt with the King in the forest of Hallate, and there to be met by some one bringing him letters, as if from Flanders, requiring his hasty return. Then he will decently bid the King adieu, and ride away. I was in hopes to have had time enough to be near at hand with my whole force, to give him aid if they pursue or stay him, though he tells me in the packet just received, to meet him at Pont St. Maxence. However, it is as well that some should proceed farther; and if you can get the start of us, you can take the occasion."
"I will not miss it," replied Woodville; "but two things may be needful--one, a letter to the Duke; and another, some one who knows the road and the forest."
"What sort of letter?" demanded De Roucq, sharply. "What is the letter for?"
"To call the Duke back to Flanders," replied Richard of Woodville. "I will be the person to deliver it, should need be."
"Ay, that were as well," answered the old knight; "though doubtless he has arranged already for some one to meet him; yet no harm of two. It shall be written as if others had been sent before. I will call my clerk, for of writing I know nought."
"In the meanwhile I will see for a guide," answered Woodville; and going forth, he inquired, amongst the attendants of the young Lord of Lens and the men-at-arms of the Count of Charolois, for some one who was acquainted with the forest of Hallate. One of the latter had been there in former days, and remembered something of the roads, with which amount of information Richard of Woodville was forced to content himself, trusting to meet with some peasant on the spot who might guide him better. He then gave orders for bringing out the horses without farther delay, and for charging each saddle with two feeds of corn; and returning to the Lord of Roucq, he found him dictating a letter, by the light of a lamp, to a man with a shaven crown. Before it was finished, for the style of the good knight was not fluent, the jingle of arms and the tramp of horses" feet were heard before the inn; and looking round, with a well-satisfied smile, the old soldier exclaimed, "Ha! this is well!--This is the way to win _los_. There, that will do, Master Peter; fold and seal it. Then for the superscription, as you know how."
Some five minutes, however, were spent upon heating the wax, tying up the packet, and writing the address, during which time Richard of Woodville looked on with no small impatience, fearing that he might be forestalled by others in executing a task which promised some distinction. At length all was complete; and, taking the letter eagerly, he hurried out and sprang into the saddle.
The Lord of Roucq added various cautions and directions, walking by the young Englishman"s horse for some way through the village; but at length he left him; and putting his troop to a quicker pace, Woodville rode on towards Pont St. Maxence.
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE ACHIEVEMENT.
The forest of Hallate--of which the great forest of Chantilly, as it is called, is in fact but an insignificant remnant,--was, in the days of Philip of Valois, one of the most magnificent woods at that time in Europe, giving its name to a whole district, in the midst of which was situated the fine old palace and abbey of St. Christopher, or St.
Christofle en Hallate, the scene of many of the most important transactions in French history. I do not find that the palace was much used in the reign of Charles VI.; and it was very possibly going to decay, though the abbey attached to it still remained tenanted by its monks, and the forest still afforded the sport of the chase to the French monarchs and their court, being filled with wolves, stags, boars, and even bears (if we may believe the accounts of the time), which were preserved with more care, from all but princely hands, than even the subjects of the Sovereign.
The great variety of the ground--the hills, the dales, the fountains, the cliffs, that the district presented--the rivers that intersected it, the deep glades and wild savannahs of the forest itself--the villages, the towns, the chapels, the monasteries, which nestled themselves, as it were, into its bosom--the profound solitude of some parts, the busy cultivation of others, the desert-like desolation of certain spots, and the soft, calm monotony of seemingly interminable trees which was to be found in different tracts--rendered the forest of Hallate one of the most interesting and changeful scenes through which the wandering foot of man could rove. Whether he sought the city or the hermitage, whether the grave or the gay, whether the sun or the shade, here he might suit his taste; and the mutations of the sky, in winter, in summer, in morning, in evening, in sunshine, or in clouds, added new changes to each individual spot, and varied still farther a scene which in itself seemed endless in its variety.
About three o"clock on the afternoon of a day in early May, with a cool wind stirring the air, and some light vapours floating across the heaven, a gentleman, completely armed except the head, with a lance on his shoulder, and a page carrying his casque behind him, rode slowly into one of the wide savannahs, following a peasant with a staff in his hand, who seemed to be showing him the way. His horse bore evident signs of having been ridden far that day, without much time for grooms to do their office in smoothing down his dark brown coat; but nevertheless, though somewhat rough and dusty, the stout beast seemed no way tired; and, to judge by his quick and glancing eye, his bending crest, and the eager rounding of his knee, as if eager to put forth his speed, one would have supposed that he had rested since his journey, and tasted his share of corn.
"Ay, there is a piqueur of the hunt," said the gentleman, marking with a glance a man, clothed in green and brown, who stood holding a brace of tall dogs at the angle of one of the roads leading into the heart of the forest. "You have led us right, good fellow. There is your guerdon."
The peasant took the money; and, as it was somewhat more than had been promised, made a low rude bow and stumped away; and the gentleman, turning to his page, beckoned him up.
"Think you, Will, that you have French enough," he asked, in English, when the boy was close to him, "to tell them where we are, and what to do?"
"Oh, I will make them understand," replied the page, with all the confidence of youth. "I picked up a few words in Ghent, and a few more as we came along; and what tongue wont do, hand and head must."
"Well, give me the casque," said his master, "and you take my barret;"
and receiving the _chapel de fer_ from the boy"s hands, he placed it on his head, raised the visor till it rested against the crest, and rode slowly on towards the attendant of the chase, who, with all a sportsman"s eagerness, was watching down the avenue attentively.
"Good morning, my friend," said the gentleman in French.
"Good afternoon, sir," answered the piqueur; for the vulgar are always very careful to be exact in their time of day. He did not look round, however, and the stranger went on to inquire if the King were not hunting in the forest.
The man now turned and eyed the questioner. His splendid arms showed he was a gentleman; and he was alone, so that no treason could be intended. "Yes, sir," replied the piqueur; "I expect him this way every minute. Do you want to see him?"
"Why, not exactly," said the stranger. "Some of the people told me the good Duke of Burgundy was with him; and, as it is he with whom I want to speak, if their report be true, it may save me a ride to Paris."
"The good Duke is with the King," rejoined the man; "but s"life I know not whether he will be so long: for fortune alters favour, they say, and times have changed of late--though it is no business of mine, and so I say nothing; but the Duke was ever a friend to the Commons, and to the citizens of Paris more than all."
"Have they had good sport to-day?" demanded Richard of Woodville; for doubtless the reader has already discovered one of the interlocutors in this dialogue. ""Tis somewhat late in the year, is it not, piqueur?"
"Ay that it is, for sundry kinds of game," replied the man; "but there are some not out, and others just coming in; and we are obliged to suit ourselves to the poor old King"s health. He is free just now from his black sickness, and would have had a glorious day of it, had not Achille, the subveneur, who is always wrong, and always knows better than any one else, mistaken which way the _piste_ lay. But hark! they are blowing the death: the beast has been killed, and not past this way, foul fall him. My dogs have not had breath to-day."