Part 11

The days before the tournament had been spent in perpetual practice at the quintain, and tilting against each other in half armour and with very light lances, made so slight as to break with but little force. In this way the boys had become excellent hands at aiming their spears to the best advantage, and in becoming used to the shock of the blow, so as to grow accustomed to the knack of holding on to the saddle with their knees at the exact moment without losing their nerve. In these encounters Dicky Cheke and Maurice Woodville were very fairly matched, and such falls as they had were pretty evenly balanced, although Dicky, if he got the worst of it, invariably had some excellent reason for his mishap, and was voluble in his explanations, while Maurice took it quietly, and was even a little disconcerted by his misfortune.

Bowerman had nearly recovered, and was to be allowed to take part in the forthcoming tourney, but he was not allowed to practise at the tilting with the others, for fear of opening his wound again by any mischance. He had therefore practised at the quintain, and other exercises that taught him to aim and strike, without, however, receiving a blow in return.

Willie Newenhall had thus been left to tilt always with Ralph Lisle, and although the latter, when he had knocked his antagonist off once or twice, refrained, out of pure good nature, from putting forth all his strength and dexterity, yet "Pig's Eyes" was very wrath and sore at being so manifestly inferior to one so much younger than himself.

More than ever the five pages were divided into sides. Newenhall and Bowerman scarcely ever spoke to the other three, and never lost a chance of getting them into trouble if they could, or of making them do work which was unpleasant to themselves.

Ralph was very good-natured, and would have done anything for Bowerman, in spite of his violent language and the manifest hatred the latter bore him. But Dicky Cheke resented their treatment, and took every opportunity of annoying or crossing the others. He and Woodville were frequently the victors in this sparring of rival wits; and if only they could get "Pig's Eyes" alone, he had a very uncomfortable time of it.

Ralph had provided for the approaching pageant with considerable wisdom, in spite of Dicky Cheke's mistrust of his powers. He had been able to buy, besides the two horses, a very fine suit of tilting armour, and two splendid tunics, and close-fitting hose, with a fur mantle of the latest fashion. The tunics were slashed, and one was made of large stripes of orange tawny satin and delicate grey, with rich ruby velvet, and slashed at the shoulders, elbows, and across the chest, while the hose were also made in large stripes, but of white and pale lemon-coloured satin; rich Cordovan leathern slippers of crimson colour protecting and adorning his feet. This suit was for wearing after the tournament the first day. The other suit was equally magnificent; for those who took part in the tilt were dispensed from wearing the livery of the Captain of the Wight for that day.

He had received by an unknown hand, a tiny silk glove, and a little scrap of paper, on which was written in a very scrawling hand,--

"An ye ware thys, ye last course ynne, Ye shall eke lyfe and honour winne."

This was brought him by Humphrey, wrapped up in a little packet. It had been left for Ralph by a man who was unknown at the castle, but was believed to live at the back of the island, and to be a fisherman. He had been loitering about for some days past, and had latterly been accompanied by another man, who was also believed to be a fisherman, and who used to live at Wodyton, some years back. Ralph had been surprised at the enclosure, and still more so at the legend, and had secretly determined he would put the glove in his helmet before the last course, and see what would come of it. He had not yet received any favour from his cousin, and felt very moody and disconsolate in consequence.

As the boys were walking round admiring the arrangements, the light of the early sun falling on the eastern walls, towers, and battlements of the grand old castle, while the blue mist still hung over the valley, hiding the town of Carisbrooke, out of which the fine tower of the Priory church or chapel stood up like a tall rock in some grey lone sea, a varlet came out of the postern gate and called to Ralph Lisle to come into the castle-yard, where he was wanted immediately.

Ralph and Dicky Cheke followed hastily, and as they turned the corner by the well-house they saw, standing in the full light of the sun, a splendid horse, held by a groom in the livery and wearing the badge of the Lord of Briddlesford, Sir William de Lisle.

As Ralph drew near, the man held up a note, saying to Ralph, to whom he was well known,--

"My young mistress, the Lady Yolande, sends you this, with my lord's leave. 'Tis a well-trained horse, if ever there was one, and hath borne one in tilt and tourney, whom I'd like well enough to see here again. But as that mayn't be, and you bear the name of Lisle, you are to ride him; he's yours for the day--and maybe for ever."

Ralph was utterly surprised. He took the note mechanically, opened it, and read it. It was from Yolande, and said that as she could not give Ralph her favour, which he would see worn elsewhere, she had sent him the best thing she could for him to win it. She deeply deplored the accident to Black Tom, and hoped White Will would make up in some slight way for the disappointment he had suffered. The horse had belonged to her half-brother, and was well used to his work. "Therefore," she added, "ride boldly, as I know you will, and fear not to press the horse, for 'tis your own Good luck--your loving cousin--YOLANDE."

Ralph's joy was boundless. He instantly vaulted on to the noble animal, and rode him round the yard, to the admiration of every one, excepting Bowerman and Newenhall, the former of whom looked on with scowling brow and sneering mouth; the latter in blank stolidity.

"I sha'n't be able to do for him to-day," muttered Bowerman; "but to-morrow, in the fight with axes and hand-strokes, I can do somewhat."

"But you are not allowed to take part in it, Bowerman," said Willie.

"Gammon! I'll do it somehow, trust me," answered Bowerman fiercely.

While the pages were having their breakfast, they talked of nothing but the tournament, and who were coming.

Bowerman and Newenhall, from their superior age and knowledge of the island, as well as from having seen a tournament before at London, when Lord Woodville had been one of the challengers, were able to lay down the law upon all points connected with the tilt; and Dicky Cheke, who prided himself on his great acquirements, was rather quenched.

"And the two Bretons will have two other knights to join them," Bowerman was saying. "There's Sir Richard Cornwall, a very valiant knight, and much skilled in tilts and jousts; but who the other is no one knows, but I have a good guess--leastways, he is sure to be brave, and well skilled in warlike feats."

"Well, then," said Dicky Cheke, "let's see who there is for us. There's my brother, he'll be a good one; then there's Sir John Keineys, he who married old Hackett's daughter, of Knighton Gorges."

"What do you know of Knighton Gorges?" broke in Bowerman. "You hold your tongue, and listen to your betters. There's Keineys, and John Meaux, and John Leigh of Landgard, Tichborne from Lemerston, young Trenchard from Shalfleet, old Jack-in-Harness's nephew, Will Bruyn from Affeton, and Dick Oglander. They are all fair enough, but I wish they were better trained. They've all got rusty since these peaceful times have come."

"You've forgotten Dineley of Woolverton; and I hear old Bremshot of Gatecombe has sent over to young Dudley, who married his daughter; and there's--"

"Oh, you have done!" broke in Bowerman angrily. "You're always talking, and get hold of the wrong end of the story, and--"

"He doesn't," said Maurice; "and he knows as much of the island as you do, and more, too--"

"Ay, marry, do I! And what's more, before ever your beggarly family came here, the Chekes of Mottestone were lords of Mottestone for more than a hundred years--"

A blow from Bowerman was the rejoinder to this remark, which Dicky foresaw, and avoided by ducking under the table, while Maurice and Ralph interposed to prevent any further quarrelling.

"And when do we ride our courses, Bowerman?" said Ralph, always ready to receive information, and totally devoid of all personal vanity.

"Oh, you'll know soon enough; leastways, yours'll come after mine, and then you'll find out."

It was now but an hour and a half before the tilt would begin. The two boys who were to act as pages to Lord Woodville hastened to dress, and attend upon him. It appeared he was not going to tilt, but would act as judge and umpire with Sir John Trenchard and Sir Nicholas Wadham.[*]

[*] Afterwards Captain of the Isle of Wight under Henry VII. and Henry VIII.

The three pages who were going to take part in the tilt went to get ready also, and were carefully instructed in their duties by Tom o' Kingston.

The space around the lists was becoming crowded. There was no more popular amusement than a tourney, and as the arrangements were very costly, they did not very often occur in the provinces. But in a garrison like that of Carisbroke Castle, there was always to be found some one who would share in the expense, and earn popularity and experience at the same time.

There was a greater amount of interest than usual on this occasion, because there was something international in the contest, and it was known that several of the island gentry were going to take part in it.

Punctually at a quarter to eleven the sergeant-at-arms and a body of men-at-arms drew up in front of the apartments of the Captain of the Wight. Another company of mounted archers followed, and drew up on their left. Then came four trumpeters, splendidly attired in tabards, blazoned with Lord Woodville's coat-of-arms, and another body of mounted archers followed, succeeded by a squadron of men-at-arms, who all formed to the left of the first detachment. The three knights-challengers now came out of the dining-hall, armed _cap-a-pie_, and looking splendid in their gleaming tilting armour. Each knight was distinguished by his shield-of-arms, slung round his neck, and hanging over his left shoulder, and his crest proudly surmounting his tilting helm. Their esquires were waiting outside, and their varlets were leading their horses, armed with complete body armour, and gorgeously caparisoned, up and down. The fourth knight had not yet appeared.

As each knight mounted, there was a flourish of trumpets from the four trumpeters; and as he settled himself in the saddle, and took the heavy tilting-lance, richly painted and gilded, into his mailed hand, the war-horse reared and pranced, and shook its crested head, as if proud of the noble sport awaiting it.

When the three knights were on horseback, they drew up in front of the trumpeters, attended by their esquires and varlets on foot, all splendidly attired.

The Captain of the Wight had invited the chief families of the island, and the most important of the official world, represented by the Bailiffs of the three boroughs of Newport, Newtown or Frencheville, and Yarmouth, and the Bailiffs of the various ecclesiastical bodies who held land in the island--such as the Priory of Christchurch, the Monastery of Whoreley, and of Winchester College--but the Abbot of Quarr took precedence over all the other ecclesiastics who had been invited, although scarcely any came. In fact, the Abbot ranked next to the Captain of the Wight in insular precedence.

Among the ladies who looked down from the oriel window of the Captain's apartments, the lovely face of Yolande de Lisle could be seen, and the faces of several other well-known Isle of Wight ladies.

But as soon as the knights-challengers were mounted, there was a general scramble of the guests to get good places in the stand erected for their benefit. Yolande, however, had been asked by the knights-challengers to give away the prizes, and act as queen of the tourney, she therefore stayed to be escorted in state with the Captain of the Wight, who was to conduct her to her throne.

And now it was the turn of the Lord Woodville and the judges of the jousts to take up their position in the pageant. Preceded by two gorgeously-dressed yeomen of his household, carrying silver-gilt halberds, the Captain of the Wight took the hand of Yolande, and led her to the hall, followed by her two maids-of-honour, who also belonged to leading island families, and were chosen by Mistress Lisle--one was a niece of Sir John Trenchard, the other a daughter of Master Keineys, of Yaverland. Sir John Trenchard and Sir Nicholas Wadham followed, with Dicky Cheke and Maurice Woodville in immediate attendance on the Lord Woodville.

The appearance of the Captain of the Wight and the Queen of the Tournament was greeted by a prolonged flourish. Their horses were in waiting. Lord Woodville placed Yolande on her palfrey, and then mounted himself, his nephew holding his stirrup for him.

When all were mounted, the trumpets gave another flourish. The squadron wheeled to the right. The two leading detachments marched towards the great west gateway, the trumpeters followed, then the three knights-challengers fell in, with their varlets and esquires, succeeded by the Captain of the Wight, riding beside Yolande, attended by the other Judges and their escort, and then the remaining two squadrons of archers and men-at-arms closed in the procession.

The cavalcade rode round over the drawbridge and under the north walls of the castle to the rising ground which led up to the place of arms, not yet closed in, or forming part of the castle, as it subsequently did in Elizabeth's reign.

As they approached the lists, they were greeted with loud shouts from the people, who had now assembled in crowds.

Mounted archers kept the ground, and yeomen in liveries, and armed with partisans, surrounded the lists.

All those who were seated in the pavilion rose as Lord Woodville approached. Lifting Yolande off her horse, he handed her to her throne, which was proclaimed by three prolonged blasts of the trumpets. The Captain of the Wight then took his own seat, after bowing to the assembled gentry and people.

The knights-challengers had meanwhile ridden slowly into the lists, and after pacing round them, had halted at the further end, having previously saluted the Captain of the Wight, the Queen of the day, and the Judges.

All was now ready. But another ceremony--for it was an age which dearly loved ceremonies--had to be gone through.

First of all the herald belonging to the household of Lord Woodville entered the lists and read out in a loud voice the licence for holding the tournament; then he read over the names of three of the knights-challengers, simply describing the fourth knight "as a right hardie and worshipful knight." After which he proclaimed the rules of the jousts. The most important of which were, that whoever was unhorsed or disarmed was to be considered vanquished, and that no one, by deed, word, or sign, was to interfere with the jousts.

Meanwhile the knights and esquires who were to encounter the knights-challengers had collected at the other end of the lists, and after riding round and saluting their antagonists, and the Judges, had taken up their position outside the lists, at the opposite end to that of their opponents.

*CHAPTER XIV.*

*HOW THE COCKEREL USED HIS SPURS.*

As the tilt which was now about to take place was merely a friendly display of knightly prowess, and "for the honour of ladies and their delectation," the knights were to encounter with blunted lances and swords. The Marshal of the Lists having examined the arms, all who were in the enclosure were ordered out, and the knights only awaited the signal to begin.

Each knight was to ride three courses separately with his antagonist, and then three courses again afterwards.

There was now a lull in the busy hum of conversation that had been going on in the large crowd. Every one was on tip-toe of expectation to see the two knights who were first to encounter.

There they sat erect, a little in front of their comrades, their lances upright, the steel-clad figures stiff and immovable on their gorgeously-trapped horses. Not a movement could be seen in one or the other, only their pennons flickered in the light air, and the lambrequin or slashed cloth mantling of their helmets blew out from time to time.

As the names of the knights and esquires who were going to take part in the tilting had been affixed in the market-place of Newport, as well as on the gate of Carisbrooke Castle, for some days past, together with their coats-of-arms, the people all knew who was who.

"That's the sturdy Breton knight at that end, him in the white tabard, with the gold dragon on his breast," said a stout yeoman, who was one of a group of several men round a fair and buxom dame, whom Tom o' Kingston, being on duty, could only ogle from under his visor, and who was no other than the irresistible Polly Bremskete.

"And who's that at the other end; he looks a tough wight?"

"What, him in the gold coat and a green lion with a forked tail? That's young Sir John Dudley, him as married Mistress Bremshott up to Gatcombe."

"Marry! now who'd have thought such a small man would have looked so big. 'Tis the armour surely--how it do swell them out."

"Hush! they're going to begin."

The trumpets gave a flourish. The Marshal, after a pause, called out in a loud voice,--

"_Laissez aller!_"

At the first sound of the trumpet the two knights had brought their lances to the rest with a simultaneous and graceful sweep, causing the gay pennons to flash in the sun, they then remained motionless as before.

At the last word, they clapped spurs to their horses and rode straight for each other, bending their heads low down, leaning well forward, and covering themselves with their shields.

"Lord! what a crack!" cried Mistress Bremskete, in admiration.

"He's off! he's off!"

"No, that he bean't."

"He was parlous nigh anyway! I lay a yard o' broadcloth he'll be off next bout. But 'twas well done, leastways: that's what I will say."

The two knights had met with a violent splintering of spears in the midst of the lists. The Breton seemed never to feel the shock at all, for he rode on, tossing away the broken handle of his lance, after waving it aloft in the air. But the English knight reeled in his saddle; only he recovered himself directly, and rode up to the other end of the lists, where he turned, reined in his horse, and waited for his esquire to bring him another lance.

The trumpet sounded. The herald shouted,--"Well done, noble knights; remember the brave deeds of your ancestors. The ladies' eyes are upon you."

When the knights had received new lances, they once more awaited the signal. It soon came, and again the gleaming figures met in the rude shock. This time Sir John Dudley's lance struck the helmet of his opponent, and carried away the crest and part of the lambrequin, while the Breton knight's lance glanced off the ridged breast-plate, and, passing under the arm, the guard struck full against the cuirass of Sir John Dudley, and the two knights were both nearly unseated. Had they not been practised riders, and reined in their horses at the same moment, they must have fallen. As it was, they remained locked together for a moment, and so stood until the herald called out,--"Enough! 'tis well done; unloose."

They then disengaged, and rode back to their own end of the lists, amid the shouts of applause of the populace, and the music of the trumpeters.

"They are right skilful knights! I don't know as I ever saw better," said Tom o' Kingston to Humphrey, who stood near him holding a spare lance for his young master. "But there they go again. Holy Thomas! but he's off; good lack, I am parlous grieved. I would it had been the other."

A groan and shout of applause mingled together, while a dull thud and clang of metal falling, announced that one of the knights had been thrown.

"Marry, I am sorry 'tis poor young Sir John; and there's his wife looking on now! Well, 'tis a pity, to be sure," said Mistress Bremskete.

"Ay, but she takes it mighty comfortable anyway. See how she's laughing with the Lord Abbot of Quarr there."

"Well then she hadn't ought, that's what I say, Look! they're picking of him up. Alack, poor man, how he do bleed! 'Tis from the mouth, seemingly. Well-a-day! well-a-day! but 'twas a rude knock."

And so amid the plaudits of the crowd and the clarion blasts of the trumpets, the Breton knight returned to his end of the list, and took his station next the last of the challengers, receiving their congratulations as he rode up, while his luckless antagonist was helped out of the lists, to be attended to in the tent set aside for the reception of those wounded in the tilt.

The next knight who rode out from the challengers' end was Sir Amand de la Roche Guemene. As he took up his place, he turned towards Yolande and bowed low to his saddle-bow.

"Why, he's wearing the same colours she's got on! Well, to be sure, that's a merry jest! Can't she find among all our island gentry one to her taste, but she must go giving away her favours to them jackanapes Frenchmen? But 'tis ever the way with your high-born wenches; they always goes after what's strange, never mind how ugly it be, if only it be something new. It all comes of so many running after them."

"Then, Mistress Bremskete, you ought to like those Breton gents, seeing the many suitors you have," said the ready yeoman by her side, with a knowing leer, giving his buxom companion a nudge with his elbow.

"Go along with ye, Master Paxhulle! you're always fooling us poor wenches with your soft tongue."

"I'll have to trounce that Paxhulle, I see," said Tom o' Kingston savagely, to Humphrey, upon whom the merry glance of Mistress Bremskete, and the leer of her companion, were in no way lost.

"I say, that's Sir John's nephew there. I do hope he'll do well! 'Tis a nice youth; but they're all too young, to my mind. These Breton knights have been well tried in many tilts, and are tough and skilled. But there they go! Good luck go with him--ah!--'Twas well done! He's a brave youth."

After splintering their lances without any further damage, the two cavaliers cantered on to the end of the lists, wheeled round and faced each other, taking the fresh lances handed them by their esquires.

Whether it were that young Trenchard really bore himself with greater skill and address, or that his antagonist, out of knightly courtesy to the trusty friend of his host, the Captain of the Wight, forebore to use all his skill and strength, it happened that the three courses were ridden without any mishap beyond a plentiful splintering of lancewood, and a rending of knightly finery.

Sir John Trenchard was evidently pleased, and accepted the congratulations of Lord Woodville and Mistress Lisle with but half-dissembled satisfaction.

"'Tis a good lad, and will do well," he said, "an the ladies spoil him not; for he is comely, and of fair manners."

The next knight to ride out from the challengers' end was Sir Richard Cornwall, a very powerful, strong knight in magnificent armour. His appearance was greeted with a hum of applause.

"Now, that's what I call a hardy knight, and something like a man. None of your little jackanapes of Frenchmen and raw youth. Look at his bone--look at his breadth of chest. 'Tis a pity he's an overrun."

"But 'tis a strong man he's got against him. 'Tis Master Meaux o' Kingston."