Part 1

Produced by Al Haines.

*The Captain of the Wight*

A Romance of Carisbrooke Castle in 1488

BY

FRANK COWPER, M.A.

AUTHOR OF "CAEDWALLA; OR, THE SAXONS IN THE ISLE OF WIGHT"

_With Illustrations by the Author_

LONDON SEELEY & CO., ESSEX STREET, STRAND 1889

*PREFACE.*

To my mind there is no more picturesque period in the history of Western Europe than that of the Renaissance.

Among the many aspects in which it is possible to regard this important epoch, that of its influence on chivalry is one of the most interesting. The rough simplicity of the proud mediaeval knight, gradually yielding to the subtle spell of pure poesy and courtly love, while the barred helm and steel gauntlet were hardly doffed from the stern field, or gorgeous tourney, this is a subject which will always fascinate.

However practical the world may grow, and perhaps, because of its very practicality, there will always be minds which will turn with relief to the romantic and the ideal. In the turmoil of real life, with its sordid materialism, there are many men and women who dwell with delight on some noble life clothed round with the glamour of ancient time, and presenting itself to the mind in the garb of gorgeous pomp and splendid pageantry, who, while trying to achieve some great emprise themselves, will dream of the men of old time, who have soared aloft on the pinions of glorious fame.

With the privilege of a writer of fiction, I have chosen Sir Edward Woodville,[*] commonly called Lord Woodville, as the "eidolon" on which to clothe the heroic virtue of chivalry, without its many and grosser faults. So little is known of the Captain of the Wight, but what little there is, shows him in so noble a light, that I feel I am not necessarily exaggerating, may even be accurately describing, his knightly character. His attachment to his own unfortunate family, and his murdered nephews, caused him to be included among the list of nobles and knights, who were held up to public execration in that long and artful manifesto put forth by Richard III., before he set out for the campaign which ended in Bosworth field.

[*] I have adopted the spelling of the name Woodville, authorised by Lord Bacon. The varieties--Wydevil, Wydeville, Wyddevil, etc, etc.--are as numerous as those of Leicester, who wrote his own name eight different ways; while Villiers varied his fourteen times. But Mainwaring has outdone them all. It is said there are one hundred and thirty-one varieties!

Returning in the victorious train of Henry Tudor, now Henry VII. of England, Sir Edward Woodville was invested with the honourable post which had been lately held by his unfortunate brother, the accomplished Lord Scales. As "Lord and Captain of the Isle of Wight," he seems to have made himself so popular that, by his own influence alone, he was able to induce four hundred of the inhabitants to follow him to Brittany. "Noble and courageous," "hardie and valyant," "a valiant gentleman, and desirous of honour," are the epithets with which the old chroniclers speak of Sir Edward Woodville. That he was never married, and died upon the field of battle "valiantly fighting," are all the facts that are known about him. But these facts are enough to allow me to interpret his life as I have done.

Like another more exalted, but less fortunate, inhabitant of Carisbrooke Castle, in the last sad act of his life,

"He nothing common did or mean Upon that memorable scene,"

but with his "crew of talle and hardie" men of the Wight, died fighting with his sword in hand, and his face to the foe, as became a valiant captain of that lovely isle.

I have consulted all the authorities I could find, in order to give as accurate a picture of the time as possible. I don't know that it is needful to mention all, but the "Tournois du Roi Rene d'Anjou," "The Memoirs of St Palaye," "The Boke of St Albans," Sir Thomas Malory's "Mort d'Arthur," and "La joyeuse hystoire du bon Chevalier, le gentil Seigneur de Bayart," have been my chief sources for knightly feats and the accessories of chivalry; while the chroniclers Halle, Grafton, Fabyan, Stowe, Philip de Commines, Bouchet, and the Paston Letters, have been my chief historical guides. Lord Bacon has surveyed the whole period from a loftier standpoint, and in his "Reigne of Henry VIIth," has presented us with a stately specimen of the art of writing history; although, as an old manuscript note in my edition briefly puts it, "it is somewhat more of a picture of a polished prince than a history exactly true, more vouchers and fewer speeches would have given it more strength, though less beauty."

It must be a subject of interest to the inhabitants of the Isle of Wight to know that, in writing of that fatal expedition to Brittany, every one of the old historians speak of the bravery of the predecessors, and, in many cases, the ancestors, of the present dwellers in the island.

It is to be deplored that there is no original account of the expedition of the four hundred, such as exists in the "Herald's" account of the expedition to Dixmude, preserved in John Leland's Collectanea, which happened in the same year (1488). I have tried laboriously to find out the names of the chief inhabitants of the Isle of Wight at that time; but owing to the great danger and discomfort there was in living in the island during the 15th century, arising from the constantly threatened invasions of the French, and their many actual occupations of the island, the chief families appear either to have become extinct in that period, or to have retired to the mainland.

It is also worthy of note, to see how many times the chief manors passed into new families through the female line. This fact is very significant of the troubled state of the times. It was not that the manhood of the island ceased for want of sons, but that these sons met a violent death in the many wars of that age.

In conclusion, I may add that, while the story is mainly written for the young, with which object in view I have paid less attention to the delineation of character than the animation of incident, and the variety of the scene, I trust their elders may also find information about a romantic episode in our local and national history.

*CONTENTS.*

CHAP.

I. HOW THE GERFALCON SPED II. HOW THE FLEDGLING LEFT THE NEST III. OF THE FLEDGLING REJOICING IN HIS FREEDOM IV. HOW THE FLEDGLING GREW TO A COCKEREL V. OF THE COMING TO THE ISLE OF WIGHT VI. HOW THEY CAME TO CARISBROOKE CASTLE VII. HOW THE COCKEREL SHOWED FIGHT VIII. HOW THE COCKEREL GOT A FALL IX. HOW THE COCKEREL LEARNT HARDIHOOD X. HOW THE COCKEREL VAUNTED HIMSELF XI. HOW JOYOUSLY LIFE GOETH XII. HOW THE COCKEREL FELT HE WAS BUT A COCKEREL XIII. OF THE SHARPENING OF THE COCKEREL'S SPURS XIV. HOW THE COCKEREL USED HIS SPURS XV. HOW THE COCKEREL CROWED XVI. HOW THE COCKEREL WAS PETTED XVII. HOW THEY WERE AT FAULT XVIII. HOW THE RUSTY KNIGHT LET THE SUN GO DOWN ON HIS WRATH XIX. OF THE PERPLEXITY OF THE LITTLE MAID XX. HOW THE CAPTAIN KEPT TRYST XXI. OF THE COMBAT *A OUTRANCE* XXII. OF THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER XXIII. HOW THEY LEFT THE WIGHT XXIV. OF LA "BEALE FRANCE" XXV. OF ST AUBIN DU CORMIER XXVI. HOW "THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST WERE A' WEDE AWAY" XXVII. "OF THE CRAWLING TIDE" XXVIII. HOW THE MIST ROSE IN TERQUETE BAY XXIX. HOW THERE'S NO CLOUD WITHOUT ITS SILVER LINING

*LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.*

"WHAT ART THOU?" STAMMERED THE PAGE _Front._

RALPH WAVED HIS CAP IN TRIUMPH

THE CAPTAIN OF THE WIGHT ENTERING CARISBROOKE CASTLE

THE NUN OFFERED THE WINE TO YOLANDE

HOW THEY TILTED AT CARISBROOKE

A SHARP SPASM WAS THE SUDDEN ANSWER

HE DROVE HIS DAGGER INTO THE CAITIFF ABOVE HIM

HOW THEY LEFT ST HELENS

HOW THE MEN OF THE WIGHT WITHSTOOD THE FRENCH

THE LAST CHARGE AT ST AUBIN

"WE MUST ROW," SAID SIR GEORGE

IN THE GLOAMING (missing from source book)

*THE CAPTAIN OF THE WIGHT*

*CHAPTER I.*

*HOW THE GERFALCON SPED.*

In front of an old ivy-covered manor house, so built, with its projecting wings, as to form three sides of a quadrangle, a boy was standing, idly leaning his arms on the stone coping of the low wall which shut in the fourth side of the courtyard.

The boy was well grown, with fair, ruddy face, and brown hair, cut, after the picturesque fashion of the latter half of the fifteenth century, straight above his eyebrows, but falling in wavy masses on each side of his face. His eyes were bright, and full of life. His strongly-knit frame gave promise of strength and activity, and his age might well have been put at seventeen or eighteen even, so tall was he, and well grown, although, in truth, he was not more than fifteen.

The free life in the fresh Hampshire air, blowing from the sea, over forest, gorse-covered common, and well-tilled fields, had given play to his thews and sinews.

It was evening. The sun was just setting over the blue hills covered with woods, interspersed with heathy patches. Far as the eye could see, there were gently-swelling undulations, with a loftier hill looming out of the grey mist which rose, film-like, behind the nearer masses of the russet forest. Here and there some larger expanse of mist looked like a lake amid the overhanging trees, while over all brooded the silence of the evening, when all nature pauses in reverence to the setting sun, broken only by the lowing of some distant kine, or the faint hum of a beetle as it went booming by.

Suddenly the boy stood up, listened attentively, then, springing through the gateway, he darted down the road in front of the house, to meet a horseman who was riding up the forest glade.

The man was singing blithely as he rode, and the refrain of each verse rang merrily in the stillness of the evening. It was the sound of this which had told the boy of the new comer's approach.

"Ringwood, my hound, with a merry taste, All about the green wood began caste, I took my horn and blew him a blast With tro-ro-ro-ro! tro-ro-ro-ro! With hey go bet! hey go bet! ho! There he goeth, there he goeth, there he goe, We shall have sport and game enowe,"

rang out clear over the wood, and cheerily the boy answered,--

"In sooth, Humphrey, thou'rt in fine voice to-night; but, prythee, cease thy song for a while, and give me the gerfalcon, that I may see her."

"Certes, Master Ralph, thou wilt be well pleased anon. 'Tis the veriest sweetest little bird for mounting a heron, or springing a pheasant, as ever I did see. There, stroke her cautiously; see how she manteleth and warbelleth her wings."

So saying, the serving man, or varlet, as the falconer's assistants were called, stooped down and held out his right hand, which was protected by a stout leathern glove with a large gauntlet. Two leather thongs, called lunes, were connected by two rings or tyrrits, and the lunes were then fastened to the jesses, and the ends loosely twined round the little finger, to prevent the bird from escaping.

The bird was gaily hooded, and turned its head from side to side, causing the little artificial plume of feathers on its head to shake and flutter gaily.

The boy, in his eagerness to stroke his new possession--for it was his birthday, and his father had sent to Salisbury to buy this hawk for his favourite son--put out his hand too quickly, for the hawk made a peck at it; but he drew it back in time, and with more caution and gentle words he at last succeeded in stroking her wings and back.

"Marry Humphrey, she is a fine one. She is a long hawk, and ought to fly well."

"I' faith! will she so. I got her rare cheap; for the price has risen mightily sithen the tolls have been laid on all hawks. 'Tis one shilling and eightpence, over and above the price of the bird, I had to pay to Brother Anselm for the licence of bringing her over; but I got her cheap, marry, did I! An you'll find such another in all the south of England--ay, and the north too--for ten shillings, never call me Humphrey more."

They had now reached the gateway where Master Ralph, as Humphrey called him, had been waiting for his birthday present. The groom took off the leather glove and gave it to Ralph, who put it on, and took the bird into the house to show to his father and mother, while Humphrey rode round to the stables.

The interior of the hall was a large low oak-panelled room, with a wide fireplace on one side. Antlers, spears, bows, and bills were hung or fixed all along the walls, and a few skins of red deer and other wild animals lay about on the stone floor. Ralph crossed the hall, and went down a low dark passage. He paused at a little oak door, and tapped.

"Come in," said a lady's voice, and Ralph entered joyously.

"Oh, mother, look! She's a hawk fit for the emperor. Thank thee, father, thank thee; 'tis the best gift thou couldst have chosen!" And the boy went up to the large armchair, in which an old man was sitting, clad in a long robe of fur, while opposite to him was standing his wife, the Dame Isabel de Lisle.

"Ay, my son, so thou art right joyous, art thou? Well, and that's e'en as it should be. Thou art growing a stout lad, and 'tis time to be thinking of thy after life. I would fain have ye all started in the world, before God sees fit to call me to him; and methinks 'twill not be long now."

"Why, father, what ails thee, that thou talkest thus dolefully?" said Ralph, his ardour damped by the tone of his father's remarks.

"Nay, child," said his mother, stroking the glossy, waving hair of her son, who had doffed his cap the moment he entered his parents' presence, "nay, child, 'tis naught but the old wound thy father hath gotten at Barnet grieveth him to-night."

"May-be, may-be, fair wife," said the old knight, who always called his lady "fair," although she was certainly considerably past the age when any claims to fairness might reasonably be supposed to have been surrendered; but in his eyes she was always fair. "Perchance 'tis naught; but my mind misgiveth me, and I would fain talk gravely to my sons to-night. If God wills that I should live, well and good--if not, well and good too; leastways, I shall have settled matters aright before I go hence."

"But, father, thou hast not looked at my falcon that thou gavest me. See what a long hawk it is; and what a gay lune Brother Anselm hath put on it."

"Ay, marry, fair son, 'tis a fine bird, and will spring a partridge rarely, I'll venture. Thou must fly her to-morrow--there's many a gagylling of geese, or sord of mallards, down Chute Forest way."

"Certes, father, I'll e'en try her at a heron first."

At this moment another step was heard outside, and two other boys came in; one a good deal older, and the other a year younger than Ralph.

"Well, Ralph, what hast got there?" said the elder, coming up and looking at the bird. "Marry she's a fine hawk, but I'd rather have had a falcon gentil."

"Ay, ay, and pay twenty shillings for it, let alone the toll of forty shillings in bringing of her into the kingdom."

"Nay, thou mightest have gotten one cheap from old Simon Bridle. He knows where all the best birds are to be got--all through the country side--"

"Nay, Jasper, why dost try to put the lad out of countenance with his pretty bird? Thou knowest she is a good bird, and thou wouldst be glad enough to have her thyself," said his mother.

"Now leave we this talk of the gerfalcon, and sithen you are all here, and 'tis yet half an hour to supper, let me hear what you, my sons, would wish to do after I am dead and gone. Jasper, you are the eldest, to you will fall my Bailiwick of Chute Forest, my manors of Chute, Holt, and Thruxton, and many other fair lands. Now wouldst thou go to the court, and seek to increase thy estate, as did thy great-grandfather Sir John Lisle of blessed memory, or wouldst thou stay at home, and take place and rank in thine own county?"

The eldest son took little time to answer, but replied respectfully,--

"I would fain stay at home and care for you and my lady mother, and mind the fair lands God and my ancestors have left me."

"Then, my son, as God wills it, and you have chosen, so be it, and may God's blessing and thy parents' be upon thee. Now, Ralph, my son, what willest thou?"

The young boy hesitated. He looked at his mother, and then down, and finally, raising his eyes with a keen light of joyous but rather shy determination said,--

"Noble sire, I would fain go to learn arms, and be trained in some noble prince's household, for I am of an age now when I could do some deed which might earn me knighthood."

"Well, fair son, thou hast answered as I would have thee. 'Tis sad to thy lady mother and me to part with thee, even for a space, but it is thy life that must be spent, not ours, and we have ever thought on thy weal. I will take thought what can be determined to try purveyance and maintenance as befitteth a son of the De Lisles. And now, son Walter, what willest thou?"

Walter was a delicate, slight boy, with a studious face, and one who had always been looked upon as the scholar of the family. He knew well what his parents wished, and also what was the custom of those of gentle blood who were the youngest sons. They must either seek their fortune in war, or else in the Church. He had not physical strength, nor sufficiently combative instincts, for the profession of arms, although, boylike, he had often been led away, when reading the romances of the time, to wish to imitate the deeds of Roland, or Tristram, or Launcelot; but then he was very fond of their worthy chaplain, who was also the boys' tutor, and he had been strongly imbued with a desire to sacrifice himself to God, as it was called. He therefore answered,--

"Father, I would like much to be a clerk, and follow in the steps of Our Lord and Master. Perchance I may do some good work some day."

"Ay, in sooth wilt thou, my dear son; and thou hast made the choice most after thy mother's heart, albeit, weak man that I am, had I been a youth, I would have thought scorn of a clerkly life, yet, now I am old, I know well what awaiteth those who have devoted themselves to God and Mother Church from their youth upward. I will avise me what hath best be done for thee also, and will send a missive to my right reverend kinsman the Abbot of Quarr, and perchance he will do his best to help us. And now, my sons, since all is in fair trim for your future welfare, and thy noble and fair mother is right pleased, I know, as truly am I--and I give God thanks that He hath given me such right trusty and well-nurtured sons--let us all go to supper, for we have even to drink the health of our Ralph, who by God's will from henceforth will soon become a right honest varlet and trusty page, and in time will proceed to be a very worshipful knight, like his ancestors have been--worthy men, and leal to their liege lord."

So saying, the old knight rose up with difficulty, assisted by his sons, who ran to aid him, for he had received a severe wound from a bill, over his left thigh, and had never recovered the use of it since.

"Grammercy, fair sons! but, Ralph, do thou lead in thy lady mother, for to thee belongs the honour of the day."

And so the little party went down the passage and entered the hall, where supper was laid at the upper end. The servants were all assembled in the body of the hall, and the sons carved for their parents at the high table. Ralph's health was duly drunk amid much festivity, and the whole household retired to rest at a reasonable hour.

The next day a messenger was despatched to Salisbury, where the Abbot of Quarr, who was related to Sir John Lisle, or De Lysle, was staying, to ask him to come over to Thruxton Hall, and advise his kinsman on the future of his sons. The worthy Abbot came without delay; and that evening a family consultation was held in the old parlour, round the knight's armchair.

The old knight briefly explained the matter, and then left the worthy Abbot to comment on it.

"By the Holy Rood! but thy gentle sons have all well bethought them, and I could not have directed them better myself. Truly, 'tis the overruling spirit of God who has guided them to a right judgment!" said the Abbot. "Now for Jasper there will need to be no thought taken. Out of the abundance of thy lands he will be provided for, and may marry and raise up a fair lineage; but for our nephew Ralph other thoughts will be requisite. He will need fair clothes, as becometh one of a noble house, and an honest varlet to go with him, and a mettlesome courser; one not too fiery, that will lead him astray, and perchance disgrace him, or his clothes, but one that is stout withal, and not of a too tame spirit. And now methinks I know of just such a one, which the Prior of Christchurch, who is at Sarum now on business, wisheth to part with, having become too feeble or too stout for so mettlesome a nag. Nephew Ralph, I will e'en give him thee, with my blessing."

"My Lord Abbot, I give thee humble thanks," stammered Ralph delighted.

"And now we must bethink us to what noble lord we may apprentice him. Thou knowest what state my Lord Scales, lately deceased, kept in his Castle of Carisbrooke. He, poor man--and may the Lord have mercy on his soul--was grievously done to death near Stoney Stratford, by the late King Richard, whom the devil led far astray. Nevertheless, he was a man of war, and well skilled in subtle council. However, King Henry hath made his brother Captain-General of our land; and Sir Edward Woodville, whom most men call the Lord Woodville, and who some even think will be called to the council by the style of Lord Rivers, is but now on his way back from the hard fight at Stoke by Newark, where he hath gained himself fresh glory. Certes he is a gallant, very puissant, and right hardy lord, and one under whom much knighthood and gentleness might be learnt, and as he is the uncle of our sovereign lord the King's most noble wife, there is much hope Ralph might be advanced in the King's household. Now I can present our fair nephew to him, and he can be brought up under my eye in the right pleasant Castle of Carisbrooke, of the honour of which the Lisles hold the Manor of Mansbridge. How say you, kinsman mine, will this serve you?"

"Ay, marry will it, my Lord Abbot, and I see fair promise of the boy's doing well, and faring right puissantly. And now I bethink me, our kinsman of Briddlesford may take an interest in the lad. His own son, I hear, hath been disinherited by him for his wilfulness and strong fealty to the house of York. I would fain see them reconciled, but an that may not be, I see no wrong in Ralph marrying his only daughter. But now, canst thou do somewhat also for son Walter here?--he would like well to be a clerk."

"By Our Lady, but he is a good lad, and we will take order that he be well advanced, as far as our poor influence in the Holy Church goeth; but he should be entered at Oxen ford shortly, for he is of age to go thither. I will write to my well-beloved brother and kinsman, the Abbot of Abyngdon, who will get him entered at Queen's College, over which, when I was a scholar, the very puissant prince Cardinal Beaufort was provost."