Cressy and Poictiers. Edgar John George

my imagination, which, in reality, had led me to undertake this journey to Windsor, did not altogether desert me in the middle. In the midst of my doubts, I conjured up, for the hundredth time, a brilliant future; and feeling, as if by instinct, that my fortunes were hanging on the decision of the moment, I summoned pride to my aid, and pursued my way. My shyness, natural to a youth reared in the solitude of a grange, was rather inconvenient at the moment; but I have hinted that I was not without courage. I will go further, and say that I was not without audacity; and it was with the fixed purpose of doing, daring, and risking all, that I spurred into the little town of Windsor, rode up the ascent that leads to the castle, and, reining in at the massive gate, cast a look of awe at the towers, and turrets, and fortifications of the Norman stronghold, from which the standard of England floated in the autumn breeze.

      The warder appeared, as in duty bound, and demanded on what errand I came, and looked calmly on as I answered that I wished to be admitted to the presence of a cavalier who called himself "Jack Fletcher."

      "Jack Fletcher?" he repeated, opening his eyes, and regarding me with a glance which seemed to intimate that he recognised the name, but was not quite certain whether or not to acknowledge that he did.

      "I come at the invitation of the cavalier I have named," said I, endeavouring to appear as courageous as possible; "and, to remove any doubts, I bring a token, which I was given to understand would secure me the privilege of being admitted to his presence."

      I produced the ring; the warder looked at it, and bent his head.

      "All right," said he; "enter, and presently you will be conducted to him you seek."

      As the warder spoke, the gate opened; and, at a signal from him, I rode into the courtyard, where squires and knights, gaily dressed, were loitering about, and talking of adventures in love and war, and feats of arms. I remarked, with surprise, that several of them had one eye bound up with silk; and I afterwards learned that they had taken a solemn vow, in presence of the ladies and the peacock, never again to see with both eyes till they had performed certain deeds in arms against the French.

      While I, having dismounted, stood looking with a feeling of that wonder produced by novelty on this gay scene, and somewhat astonished at my eccentricity in venturing into such a place, a young man of noble aspect and bearing approached and addressed me.

      "Youth," said he with a smile, "you have come hither to see Jack Fletcher."

      I bowed with great respect; for the air and appearance of the young noble impressed me with a sense of his importance; and I showed the ring, the influence of which on the warder I had carefully noted.

      "Follow me, then," said he, smiling, "and I will lead you to his presence; though, in truth, it was an old man and not a youth for whom I expected to do that office."

      I was by this time much too agitated to explain or reply; and I followed my guide like one in a dream, as he passed through passages and galleries. At length he halted at a door, and, drawing aside a curtain, spoke some words, which to me sounded like an order for execution. Mechanically, however, I entered, and, with my heart beating, and my brain whirling, and all my courage, all my audacity vanished, found myself face to face with the cavalier whose figure had, for weeks, been present to my imagination, and whose words had, for weeks, echoed in my ear. He wore a black velvet jacket, and a hat of beaver, which became him much; and, as he turned his eye upon me, the truth as to who he was flashed, for the first time, so vividly and rapidly on my mind, that I stood stock-still, and almost felt as if I should have sunk to the floor.

      My confusion and embarrassment, however, were so evident, that they pleaded for me more eloquently than words could have done; and he appeared all anxiety to put me at my ease.

      "Brave youth," said he, "be not alarmed at finding yourself in a strange place; but make yourself as easy as if you were in your grandsire's grange. Why came he not with you, as he promised?"

      "My lord," answered I, bending my knee, and trying to take courage, "my grandsire, on reflection, deemed it prudent not to intrude on the strength of the invitation which you gave in your courtesy; but intrusted me with the ring to restore to you, which I now do;" and, with great respect, I suited the action to the word.

      I thought that a shade of disappointment passed over his countenance as I spoke; and I shrewdly guessed that it had been his wish to question my grandsire further on the tragic events of the late reign, on which their conversation had formerly turned, and which at the time had produced so strong an effect.

      "Well," said he, after a pause, "men who have seen many years must be permitted to do as seems best in their own eyes; and, moreover, methinks we ought not to murmur too loudly at his absence, since he has sent you in his stead; and now that we have you here, youth," he added, with a smile, "you shall not leave us at your own pleasure. You, as I gathered, wished to be a warrior. Will you choose between my service and that of the Prince of Wales?"

      "My lord," I replied, more and more embarrassed. "I fear me I am little qualified, by breeding or accomplishments, to serve either; and, even if it happened to be otherwise with me, I could not venture to choose."

      "Ah," said he, with charming frankness, "I see how it is. The prince is of your own age, and that is a circumstance which always tends to attract, especially in early youth. So let us consider the question settled, and I will at once have you installed as one of his pages."

      So saying, and while I stared in amazement at the result of my journey to Windsor, he rose, took me by the arm, and talking of my grandsire as he went, conducted me to the tennis-court, where the prince and his companions were amusing themselves at play.

      My guide, who every moment acquired additional importance in my eyes, stopped as we entered, and eyed the prince with a glance of high pride.

      "I bring you," said he, "a youth of strength and courage, whom you will pleasure me by admitting among your pages; and I recommend him to your favour as the grandson of a man who, in his day and generation, served your progenitors faithfully and well."

      "The hero of the quintain match at Smithfield!" exclaimed the prince. "My lord," he continued, "he is welcome for his grandsire's sake and his own."

      "My lord," said I to the prince, "I pray you to pardon my seeming boldness. Had I known all I should not have dreamt of presenting myself at Windsor."

      "Ah!" exclaimed the prince, with great good-humour; "you would not have come on Jack Fletcher's invitation had you known that Jack Fletcher was the king. But in that case I might have found you out; for I want striplings of courage and likelihood around me; and I have thought of you as such ever since the day when you won the peacock."

      CHAPTER VIII

      EDWARD THE BLACK PRINCE

      To enable my readers to form some idea of the position which was occupied by the Prince of Wales at the time when I, Arthur Winram – for by this surname I was now known – was admitted to the castle of Windsor, and taken into his service as page, I must go back a few years to relate such particulars as to his birth and boyhood as may convey a notion of the advantages he had inherited and the training he had received.

      It was at York, and in the minster of that capital of the North, that, one Sunday in January, 1328, Edward the king, then sixteen, espoused Philippa, one of the four daughters whom William, Count of Hainault, surnamed the Good, had by his wife Joan, who was a princess of the line of Capet, and sister of Philip of Valois, to whom the Parliament of France adjudged the crown which St. Louis had worn. The marriage, being brought about by the king's mother, Isabel, and Roger de Mortimer, was not at first regarded with favour in England. In fact, people expressed much discontent with the business. But for once the instincts of the English deceived them. It was a love match after all; and ere long the young queen displayed so much excellence and so many amiable qualities, that she became more popular than any Queen of England had ever been, with the exception, it must be admitted, of Eleanor of Castile.

      Nothing, probably, contributed more to the change of sentiment on the part of the English than the birth of the son destined to so glorious a career and so melancholy an end. At Woodstock – a sylvan palace associated with the memories of the Norman and early Plantagenet kings, and with the touching romance of Rosamond Clifford –