"Knights and soldiers," he said, in clear trumpet tones which could be heard even by the sentinels on the battlements, "before I go forth to battle, it is meet that I should appoint a Castellan to have charge of my castle of Blauncheflour, and this I do now before ye all a.s.sembled, in the person of my dear lady and countess, Emma, daughter of the valiant William Fitzosbern. I appoint her to the sole and supreme command, and to have as deputies under her, and as military advisers,--but under her pleasure, and to be dismissed if she think fit,--Sir Hoel de St. Brice and Sir Alain de Gourin. Knights and gentlemen, you who are about to go forth to battle with me, and to share my dangers, and, I hope, my successes, I make you witnesses of the fact of this appointment, so that if I fall in the chances of the field, you may hurry to my lady"s standard and reinforce it with your strength. Knights and soldiers of the garrison, I charge ye to serve your Castellan and liege lady with faithfulness and fervour; to render her humble obedience, and to defend her as ye would defend your own lady-loves, wives, and children. I commit her and my castle, and with them my joy and my honour, to your care. Justify my trust!"
As he spoke he handed the keys of the castle to Emma, who took them with trembling fingers and attached them to her girdle, looking at the ranks of steel-clad men around her with a brave though blanched face.
A great roar of cheering rolled round the s.p.a.cious courtyard, such as Emma had never heard in her life before, though she was to hear its like in the coming months. a.s.severations and vows and battle-cries mingled in wild confusion, shouted from stentorian lungs in more than one language. "Dex aie!" cried the Normans; and the Bretons cried "Guader et Montfort!" "Aoie!" "Heysaa!" and "The Holy Rood!" from English of varying types; while the knights shook their lances, and cried to G.o.d to shield their lady in their absence. Arms clashed, and horses stamped, and it seemed as if all the dogs in Norwich were barking.
When the tumult had somewhat subsided, and the startled pigeons were circling back to their favourite perches on the battlements, Emma, with a beating heart, made her little speech in answer. Turning first to the garrison, she said,--
"I thank ye all for your devotion, good sirs and soldiers!" and her clear, flute-like voice was to the full as distinct as that of the earl. "Nor do I doubt that ye will do your duty to G.o.d, to your earl, and to me, his deputy, in whatsoever sore straits may befall. To you, n.o.ble knights," she continued, turning to the group who were about to depart with the earl, "I return thanks for your courtesy, and beg you to bear in mind that my lord"s fortunes and fair fame, nay, even his life, do in some measure depend upon the sharpness of your swords, and your promptness to use them in his behalf, and therefore every blow ye strike will be struck in my defence, for, in sooth, I should die if ill or dishonour came to him!"
The cheers of the garrison and the vows of the knights to do their _devoir_ by their lord burst forth more tumultuously than before; but the countess, turning to her husband, said in a low voice,--
"I can bear no more, Ralph. Farewell! May Our Lady and St. Nicholas guard thee and bring thee shortly home!"
She held out her hands to him appealingly, and he, pressing them, bent forward hastily and kissed her on the forehead.
"_a Dieu_, dear lady!" he said, with a voice less steady than her own.
"Forget not to name me in thine orisons!"
He stepped forward and mounted his impatient destrier, which, excited almost to madness by the cheering of men and the clash of arms, pranced and curveted proudly as he felt his master"s hand. The trumpets blared, the portcullis creaked upon its hinges, and the drawbridge clanked upon its chains.
The gay cavalcade set forth on their adventures, none knowing how, or when, or if ever, they should return. The armed heels of the steeds clattered upon the pavement and thundered over the drawbridge, and l.u.s.ty cheers rent the air before and behind them, from the waiting host upon the plain, and from the garrison in the courtyard of the castle.
Emma, with a heavy heart, ascended the circular staircase in the north-eastern angle of the keep, her ladies following, and went round to the southern side of the battlements, whence they commanded a view of the country for many miles around, and could see the earl"s army in glittering array upon the s.p.a.ce within the barbican, and also the road by which they would march away, that same broad Ikenield way by which the young countess had entered the town such a short time before, happy in her bridegroom"s society.
The troops a.s.sembled in order of march. A cloud of archers and slingers in the van, chiefly Bretons; after them the bills and battle-axes, and the Anglo-Saxon contingent with their round red shields and great two-edged seaxes--the weapon from which they got their name of Saxons, though it was modified from the ancient scythe-shaped blade to a straight, double-edged sword; next in order, the javelins and pikemen, and men of various arms, many only wielding stout clubs of oak and ash, or carrying long staves. Then, glittering and shining, the body of knights headed by the earl. Near him rode Sir Guy de Landerneau, the richest and most powerful of De Guader"s Breton va.s.sals, to whom was accorded the honour of bearing the gold and black standard of the earl--the standard of revolt.
Next after Sir Guy rode his body-squire, young Stephen le Hareau, the handsomest and most promising of all the aspirants for knighthood who rode in Ralph de Guader"s train, the darling of the ladies" bower, after whom more than one fair face looked wistfully as he went away, full of high hopes and visions of glory, bent on "winning his spurs,"
and wearing till he had done so, as the custom was, a golden chain around his right arm. Laughing and fearless as he rode away, with the blue summer sky reflected in his blue Norseman"s eyes, little did they who watched him dream in what plight they would see him return. After them followed pages leading _hacquenees_ which their masters might ride when the weight of their armour had fatigued them and their fiery war-steeds. Next the baggage on sumpter mules, and a second body of archers and slingers to protect the rear.
So they rode away on the bright summer morning, and Emma and her ladies watched their slow progress from the battlements till the last glimmer of the glittering armour was lost in the distance, her eyes following them by wood and mere, now hidden by thickets, now crossing the open moorland covered with golden gorse, now startling a solitary heron from his post amongst the marshes, now a skein of wild fowl from some shining pool.
Eadgyth watched beside the countess with eager eyes, and a great hope in her bosom that her countrymen might yet come by their own again. A delusive hope, and one she would scarcely have held if she had known more of the facts of the case. The English hated their conqueror, and found his yoke oppressive. If Eadgar aetheling had been man enough to stand against William, and lead them in revolt, they might have struggled to overturn the Norman;--even Waltheof they might have welcomed as a national chieftain;--but they saw too clearly that Ralph de Guader and Roger of Hereford were bent only on their own advancement, to rally in numbers to their banners. Small gain would it be to them to pull William from the throne only to place one of his turbulent barons in his stead.
But the patriotic talk which the Earl of East Anglia had affected, with the hope of gaining Saxon aid, had been as honey to the listening ears of Eadgyth, and had helped her to bear the trial of seeing strangers in the palace which had been Harold"s aforetime. She had almost forgiven Ralph his part at Senlac, and was building the most n.o.ble castles in the air as she watched the rebel army marching away.
But the young countess, torn with doubts, in bitter anguish for both husband and brother, watched with clasped hands and a set, pale face, and spoke not a word; but at last, when even her anxious gaze could no longer discern a vestige of the moving force, she turned to Eadgyth.
"Let us to our bower amid stone walls, sweet," she said. "I had hoped to have done with such when I left the stormy borders of Wales, and came hither to peaceful Norfolk. At least, I had thought that their shelter would be needed only for protection against the wild Danish Vikings, not to guard me from my own folks."
She sighed deeply, and Eadgyth scarce could think of consolation. Like most other people in all days and all places, it seemed to them that their times were sadly out of joint.
So they descended from their post of observation, and, crossing the courtyard, entered the Constable"s Lodge, which was to be their home till the war-engines of the royal forces compelled them to shelter behind the solid walls of the keep.
The bower De Guader had prepared for his bride was as magnificent and comfortable as the resources of the times permitted; and here Dame Amicia de Reviers sat awaiting them, her infirmities having prevented her from climbing the steep newel staircase of the great tower.
The pretty bower-maidens cl.u.s.tered round the venerable old lady, and chattered to her gaily of all that had taken place, vying with each other in recalling all the details of the stirring sight they had just witnessed, and in conveying them to her dull ears.
But Dame Amicia felt keenly that what was but a pleasant excitement to most of them must have been acute anguish to her darling.
"Where is your lady, children?" asked she; but only Eadgyth had noticed that before they left the great tower, the countess had slipped quietly away from them.
She had gone to the oratory, that little oratory which is still shown to those who visit the remains of Norwich Castle.
The archway by which she had entered was supported by two columns with ornamental capitals. At the angle were carved pelicans, in their piety vulning their b.r.e.a.s.t.s.
"Ah!" thought Emma as she pa.s.sed them, "if I could strip my own breast, and so make soft the beds of those I love! Brother and husband! Ah me, what sufferings may await them! The warrior"s lonely death on the cold, pitiless earth, or worse, that of the prisoner on the colder flags of the dungeon of their foe! William is without mercy. St. Nicholas, make my Ralph prevail!"
She shook from head to foot with a shudder of dread, as she threw herself upon her knees before the altar; but the tears she had so long repressed would not now come to her relief. Dry-eyed, with a dull, persistent pain at her heart that made each breath a sigh, she stretched up her arms in mute supplication to the Help of the helpless for aid.
CHAPTER XIII.
ST. NICHOLAS FOR GUADER!
The original plan of campaign drawn out by the Earls of East Anglia and Hereford had been sadly marred by the defection of Waltheof, whose counties of Huntingdon and Northampton lay between them, so that, instead of being a bond of union, they had now become adverse territory.
With Waltheof a.s.sisting them, only Worcestershire and Warwickshire would have divided them, but since he had left them in the lurch, they must needs fight half across England to effect a junction. They had this comfort, however, that Waltheof had left the country in order to make his peace with the king, and would not personally encounter them, while their positions at the extremes of east and west exposed any force attacking either of them to be itself attacked in the rear by the other. Further, the unsettled state of the Welsh border, and the readiness of the Celts to seize any excuse for invasion, rendered Hereford"s movement doubly formidable for the king"s lieutenants.
De Guader hoped that, for this reason, the main force of the opponents might be turned towards Hereford, and that he might be upon them before they were aware that he had taken the field. The hope proved delusive.
When he reached his manors at Swaffham, of which place he was lord, he found that the royal army was almost upon him, and that he must give battle there and then.
Ralph had need to put forth his best powers of generalship, for the force against him was led by four of William"s most brilliant officers:--
Earl William de Warrenne and Surrey, the husband of the king"s stepdaughter Gundred, to whom had been given twenty-eight manors in Yorkshire, and one hundred and thirty-nine lordships in Norfolk, and who was building a fine castle at Acre near Swaffham, so that he was Ralph"s neighbour, and probably no very cordial one. The Norman earl had won experience of Fenland fighting in the campaign against Hereward a few seasons previously, and had never forgiven the English for killing his brother, who was leading the king"s men through the terrible quagmires of the Isle of Ely; so he ground his teeth and swore strange oaths, as was the way of the Normans, that now the time for retribution had come.
Next there was Robert Malet, son of the brave old Sir William, who had helped to bear the corse of Harold G.o.dwinsson to its first burial, and who took with him to his own grave the love and respect of Normans and English alike, leaving his son an inheritance of lands in Norfolk and Suffolk.
Besides were two warlike bishops: Odo of Bayeux, the king"s half-brother, and Geoffrey of Coutances, warriors whose prestige was itself equal to a large body of troops.
After the death of Robert the Devil, Arlete of Falaise, the mother of William the Conqueror, married a knight named Herluin de Conteville, and bore him two sons, Robert, Count of Mortain, and Odo, Bishop of Bayeux.
Odo had a large share of the military genius of his great half-brother; nevertheless the chronicles say: "He was no instigator to war, nor could he be drawn thereto, and therefore much feared by the soldiers.
But upon great necessity, his counsels in military affairs were of special avail, so far as might consist with the safety of religion. To the king, whose brother he was by the mother, his affections were so great that he could not be severed from him, no, not in the camp." He equipped one hundred ships of war as his contribution to the invasion of England, and fought in person at Hastings, for which he was rewarded by the earldom of Kent, one hundred and eighty-four lordships in that county, and two hundred and fifty in other parts of England, including Rising, in Norfolk, where he built a fine castle.
Affluence did not improve his character. He grew rapacious and greedy, and degraded his sacred office by flagrant immoralities.
The followers of these four redoubtable leaders far out-numbered De Guader"s, and were better drilled and equipped; moreover, the defection of Waltheof had caused many of the Saxon and Anglo-Danish n.o.bles to join the Norman camp, seeing a good opportunity to curry favour with the Conqueror.
Ralph"s naturally dauntless spirit was, however, strung by the impossibility of turning back, and he formed his troops in the strongest position he could, taking advantage of the great Saxon fosse and rampart known as the Devil"s d.y.k.e, which runs from Eastmore to Narborough, lining the steep vallum with his archers and slingers and javelin men, and ma.s.sing his cavalry on the firm open ground of Beachamwell Heath, with the hope of forcing his foe into the mora.s.ses that lay around Foulden; for in those days the Bedford level was undrained, and there were no old and new Bedford rivers to gather the waters, no Denver sluice to carry them off; the sweltering fens stretched far and wide, and miles and miles of land that is now fertile pasturage was haunted only by wildfowl and fishes.
Before commencing the attack, the leaders on the king"s side sent forward a knight with a herald carrying the royal standard, and accompanied by trumpets to sound a parley. This being acceded to by De Guader, and a knight bearing his standard sent forth to meet them, the royal envoy, who was no less a person than the Bishop of Bayeux himself, rode forward, and delivered his charge in so loud and clear a voice, that it was audible to the cl.u.s.ter of knights who gathered round De Guader, before the herald officially repeated it.
Ralph was not ill-pleased to see the Bishop of Bayeux come forward, for the cruelties he had perpetrated while sharing the vice-regency of England with William Fitzosbern had won him the hatred of the Saxons, and the Normans regarded him with jealousy and distrust; so that of all William"s leaders he was least likely to win Ralph"s followers to his side by personal influence.