Volume II Part 3 (1/2)
The squire took the ring, and immediately mounting his courser, fled through the postern, thinking he should achieve great honor if he could reach Sir John Chandos.
The first squire having lost so much time in the confusion of the night did not arrive at Poictiers till nine in the morning. He found Sir John at ma.s.s; and, in consequence of the importance of his message, he disturbed his devotions.
Chandos's feelings had been severely offended by the pride and presumption of the Earl of Pembroke, and he was in no great haste to relieve him. He heard the ma.s.s out. The tables were then arranged for the noon repast.
The servants, among whom the message of the squire had been bruited, enquired of Sir John if he would go to dinner. He replied, ”Yes; if it were ready.”
He went into the hall, and knights and squires brought him water. While he was was.h.i.+ng, the second squire from the Earl of Pembroke, pale, weary, and travel-soiled, entered the hall, and knelt before him, and took the ring out of his purse, and said, ”Right dear Sir, the Earl of Pembroke recommends himself to you by this token, and heartily desires your a.s.sistance in relieving him from his present danger at Puirenon.”
Chandos took the ring; but instead of calling his friends to arm, he coldly observed, that it would be difficult to a.s.sist the Earl if the affair were such as the squire had represented it. ”Let us go to dinner,”
said he; and accordingly the knights sat down.
The first course was eaten in silence, for Chandos was thoughtful, and the minds of his friends were not idle.
In the middle of the second course, when the generous wine of France had roused his better nature, he started from a reverie, and with a smile of pride and generousness exclaimed, ”Sirs, the Earl of Pembroke is a n.o.ble man, and of great lineage: he is son of my natural lord the King of England, for he hath married his daughter, and in every thing he is companion to the Earl of Cambridge. He hath required me to come, to him, and I ought to consent to his desire.”
Then thrusting the table from him, and rising to the full height of his fine martial figure, he cried, ”Gallant knights, I will ride to Puirenon.”
This n.o.ble and generous resolve found an echo in the heart of every one that was present. The trumpets sounded, the knights hastily donned their armour, and saddled the first horses they could meet with; and in a few moments the court-yard glittered with more than two hundred spears. They rode apace towards Puirenon; but news of their approach reached the vigilant French in sufficient time for them to abandon the siege, and effect their retreat with their prisoners and booty.
The Earl of Pembroke soon found that the terror of the name of Chandos had scared the foe, and he proposed to his companions to ride towards Poictiers and meet their deliverers. They accordingly left the village in a right pleasant mood, some on foot, others on horses, and many a gallant steed carried double that day. They had not ridden a league before they met Sir John Chandos and his company, who much to their regret heard of the retreat of the French. The two parties rode in company for the s.p.a.ce of three leagues, holding merry converse on deeds of arms. They then departed, Chandos returning to Poictiers, and the Earl of Pembroke to Mortaygne.[55]
[Sidenote: The last curious circ.u.mstances of his life.]
Our knight's career of glory approached its close. By the treachery of a monk, the abbey of St. Salvyn, seven leagues from Poictiers, fell into the possession of the French, who all that year, 1371, had been hara.s.sing the English territories. Chandos was deeply mortified at the loss of the abbey, it being within the scope of his seneschals.h.i.+p. To recover it by chivalric skill, or to bring his enemies to fair and manly battle, seemed equally impossible, and his high spirit was wounded at these insults to his military abilities. On the last day of December he made an unsuccessful attempt to recover the abbey; and when he returned to the town of Chauvigny, he dismissed two-thirds of his troops, knights of Poictou and England. Sir Thomas Percy, with thirty spears, had his leave to go in quest of adventures. His own mind was too ill at rest for him to indulge in mere chivalric exercises; and after he had wished them good speed he went back into the house full of melancholy thoughts. He would not retire to rest though the night was far advanced; but he remained in the kitchen warming himself by the fire, his servants endeavouring by their jests and tales to banish his uneasiness.
Before daylight a man with the haste and anxiety of the bearer of news of import came into the house.
”The Frenchmen are riding abroad,” said he to Sir John.
”How knowest thou that?”
”I left St. Salvyn with them,” was the answer.
”Which way did they ride?” demanded Chandos.
”Their exact course I wot not,” replied his informant; ”but I saw them on the high road to Poictiers.”
”What Frenchmen?” required Sir John.
”Sir Louis of St. Julian, and Carnot the Breton.”
”Well,” quoth Chandos, ”I care not: I have no mind to ride forth to-night: it may happen that they may be encountered, though I am not there.”
The conversation closed here, but Chandos could not dismiss the subject from his mind. He mused upon what he had heard, and hope gradually broke through the gloom of his disappointment.
He then told his knights he would ride to Poictiers, and they joyfully caparisoned their horses.
Chandos and forty spears left Chauvigny before daylight, and getting into the Frenchmen's course, they soon overtook them near the bridge of Lusac.
They were on foot, preparing to attack Sir Thomas Percy and his little band, who had posted themselves on the other side of the bridge.