"You will hardly believe that I did not understand him at first, so unfamiliar in my giddy youth were the simplest facts of the Gospel.
But the words sank as if by miraculous force into my heart, and from that hour I knew no rest till I found Him, or He found me."
"Was Francis long alone?"
"No. Brother after brother joined him. First Bernard, then Peter, then Giles; they went singing sweet carols along the road, which Francis had composed out of his ready mind. They were the first hymns in the vernacular, and the people stopped to hear about G.o.d"s dear Son. Then, collecting a crowd, they preached in the marketplace. Such preaching! Francis" first sermon in his native town set every one crying. They said the Pa.s.sion of Jesus had never been so wept over in the memory of man.
"The brotherhood increased rapidly, and they went on pilgrimage to Rome, to gain the approbation of the Pope. They went on foot, carrying neither purses nor food, but He who careth for the ravens cared for them, and soon they reached the Holy City. The Pope, Innocent the Third, was walking in the Lateran, when up came a poor man in a gray shepherd"s smock, and addressed him. The Pope, indignant at being disturbed in his meditations by this intrusion, bade the intruder leave the palace, and turned away. But the same night he had two dreams: he thought a palm tree grew out of the ground by his side, and rose till it filled the sky.
""Lo," said a voice, "the poor man whom thou hast driven away."
"Then he thought he saw the church falling, and a figure in a gray robe rushed forth and propped it up--
""Lo, the poor man whom thou hast driven away."
"He sent for the stranger, and Francis opened his heart to the mighty Pontiff.
""Go," said the Pope, "in the name of the Lord, and preach repentance to all; and when G.o.d has multiplied you in numbers and grace, I will give you yet greater privileges."
"Then he commanded that they should receive the tonsure, and, although not ordained, be considered clerks.
"Imagine their joy! They visited the tombs of the Holy Apostles; and, bare footed, penniless as they came, went home, singing and preaching all the way. And thus they sang:"
Love sets my heart on fire, Love of my Bridegroom new, The Slain: the Crucified!
To Him my heart He drew When hanging on the Tree, From whence He said to me I am the Shepherd true; Love sets my heart on fire.
I die of sweetest love, Nor wonder at my fate, The sword which deals the blow Is love immaculate.
Love sets my heart on fire (etc).
"So singing, and now and then discoursing on heavenly joys, the little band reached home. And from thence it has grown, until it has attained vast numbers. We are all over Europe. The sweet songs of Francis have set Italy on fire. And now wherever there are sinners to be saved, or sick in body or soul to be tended, you find the Franciscan.
"Now I hear the bell for terce--go forth, my son, and prove your vocation."
Chapter 12: How Hubert Gained His Spurs.
Two years had elapsed since the events related in our last two chapters; and they had pa.s.sed uneventfully, so far as the lives of the page and the scholar are concerned.
Hubert had attained to the close of his pagedom, and the a.s.sumption of the second degree in chivalry, that of squire. He ever longed for the day when he should be able to fulfil his promise to his poor stricken father, who, albeit somewhat relieved of his incubus, since the night when father and son watched together, was not yet quite free from his ghostly visitant; moderns would say "from his mania."
And Martin was still fulfilling his vocation as a novice of the Order of Saint Francis, and was close upon the attainment of the dignity of a scholastic degree--preparatory (for so his late lamented friend had advised) to a closer a.s.sociation with the brotherhood, who no longer despised, as their father Francis did, the learning of the schools.
We say late lamented friend, for Adam de Maresco had pa.s.sed away, full of certain hope and full a.s.surance of "the rest which remaineth for the people of G.o.d." He died during Martin"s second year at Oxford.
Meanwhile the political strife between the king and the barons had reached its height. The latter felt themselves quite superseded by the new n.o.bility, introduced from Southern France. The English clergy groaned beneath foreign prelates introduced, not to feed, but to shear the flocks. The common people were ruined by excessive and arbitrary taxation.
At last the barons determined upon const.i.tutional resistance, and Earl Simon, following the dictates of his conscience, felt it his duty to cast in his lot with them, although he was the king"s brother-in-law. Still, his wife had suffered deeply at her brother"s hands, and was no "dove bearing an olive branch."
It was in Easter, 1258, and the parliament, consisting of all the tenants in capiti, who hold lands directly from the crown, were present at Westminster. The king opened his griefs to them--griefs which only money could a.s.suage. But he was sternly informed that money would only be granted when pledges (and they more binding than his oft-broken word) were given for better government, and the redress of specified abuses; and finally, after violent recriminations between the two parties, as we should now say the ministry and the opposition, headed by Earl Simon, parliament was adjourned till the 11th of June, and it was decided that it should meet again at Oxford, where that a.s.sembly met which gained the name of the "Mad Parliament."
On the 22nd of June this parliament decreed that all the king"s castles which were held by foreigners should be rendered back to the Crown, and to set the example, Earl Simon, although he had well earned the name "Englishman," delivered the t.i.tle deeds of his castles of Kenilworth and Odiham into the hands of the king.
But the king"s relations by marriage refused to follow this self-denying ordinance, and they well knew that neither the old king nor his young heir, Prince Edward, wished them to follow Earl Simon"s example. A great storm of words followed.
"I will never give up my castles, which my brother the king, out of his great love, has given me," said William de Valence.
"Know this then for certain, that thou shalt either give up thy castles or thy head," replied Earl Simon.
The Poitevins saw they were in evil case, and that they were outnumbered at Oxford. So they left the court, and fled all to the Castle of Wolvesham, near Winchester, where their brother, the Bishop Aymer, made common cause with them.
The barons acted promptly. They broke up the parliament and pursued.
Hubert was at Oxford throughout the session of the Mad Parliament, in attendance on his lord, as "esquire of the body," to which rank he, as we have said, had now attained; and at Oxford he met his beloved Martin again. Yes, Hubert was now an esquire; now he had a right to carry a shield and emblazon it with the arms of Walderne.
He was also withdrawn from that compulsory attendance on the ladies at the castle which he had shared with the other pages. He had no longer to wait at table during meals. But fresh duties, much more arduous, devolved upon him. He had to be both valet and groom to the earl, to scour his arms, to groom his horse, to attend his bed chamber, and to sleep outside the door in an anteroom, to do the honours of the household in his lord"s absence, gracefully, like a true gentleman; to play with his lord, the ladies, or the visitors at chess or draughts in the long winter evenings; to sing, to tell romaunts or stories, to play the lute or harp; in short, to be all things to all people in peace; and in war to fight like a Paladin.
Now he had to learn to wear heavy armour, and thus accoutred, to spring upon a horse, without putting foot to stirrup; to run long distances without pause; to wield the heavy mace, axe, or sword for hours together without tiring; to raise himself between two walls by simply setting his back against one, his feet against the other; in short, to practise all gymnastics which could avail in actual battles or sieges.
In warfare it became his duty to bear the helmet or shield of his lord, to lead his war horse, to lace his helmet, to belt and buckle his cuira.s.s, to help him to vest in his iron panoply, with pincers and hammer; to keep close to his side in battle, to succour him fallen, to avenge him dead, or die with him.
Such being a squire"s duties, what a blessing to Hubert to be a squire to such a Christian warrior as the earl, a privilege he shared with some half dozen of his former fellow pages--turn and turn about.
In this capacity he attended his lord during the pursuit of the foreign favourites to Wolvesham Castle, where they had taken refuge with Aymer de Valence, whom the king, by the Pope"s grace, had made t.i.tular bishop of that place. We say t.i.tular, for Englishmen would not permit him to enjoy his see; he spoke no word of English.
At Wolvesham the foreign lords were forced to surrender, and accepted or appeared to accept their sentence of exile. But ere starting they invited the confederate barons to a supper, wherein they mingled poison with the food.
This nefarious plot Hubert discovered, happening to overhear a brief conversation on the subject between the bishop"s chamberlain and the Jew who supplied the poison, and whom Hubert secured, forcing him to supply the antidote which in all probability saved the lives of the four Earls of Leicester, Gloucester, Hereford, and Norfolk. The brother of the Earl of Gloucester did die--the Abbot of Westminster--the others with difficulty recovered.
Hubert had now a great claim not only on the friendship of his lord, which he had earned before, but on that of these other mighty earls, and they held a consultation together, to decide how they could best reward him for the essential service he had rendered.
The earl told the whole story of his birth and education, as our readers know it.
"He has, it is true, rendered us a great service, but that does not justify us in advancing him in chivalry. He must earn that by some deed of valour, or knighthood would be a mere farce."
"Exactly so," said he of Hereford. "Now I have a proposition: not a week pa.s.ses but my retainers are in skirmish with those wildcats, the Welsh. Let the boy go and serve under my son, Lord Walter. He will put him in the way of earning his spurs."
"The very thing," said Earl Simon. "Only I trust he will not get killed, which is very likely under the circ.u.mstances, in which case I really fear the poor old father would go down with sorrow to the grave. Still, what is glory without risk? Were he my own son, I should say, "let him go." Only, brother earl, caution thy n.o.ble son and heir, that the youngster is very much more likely to fail in discretion than in valour. He is one of those excitable, impulsive creatures who will, as I expect, fight like a wildcat, and show as little wisdom."
Hubert was sent for.
"Art thou willing to leave my service?" said the earl.
"My lord," said poor Hubert, all in a tremble, "leave thee?"
"Yes; dost thou not wish to go to the Holy Land?"
"Oh, if it is to go there. But must I not wait for knighthood?"
The reader must remember that knighthood alone would give Hubert a claim upon the a.s.sistance and hospitality of other knights and n.o.bles, and that once a knight, he was the equal in social station of kings and princes, and could find admittance into all society.