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Title: A Clerk of Oxford, and His Adventures in the Barons' War

Author: Evelyn Everett-Green

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Language: English

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A CLERK OF OXFORD

and

His Adventures in the Barons' War

by

E. EVERETT-GREEN

Author of "Shut In," "In Taunton Town," "The Sign of the Red
Cross," "In the Days of Chivalry," "The Lost Treasure of Trevlyn."
&c. &c.

T. Nelson and Sons
London, Edinburgh, and New York
1898

[Illustration: _The City of Oxford from an old print._]

CONTENTS.

I. THE DIE CAST 9

II. A RIVER JOURNEY 25

III. OLD OXFORD 40

IV. THE FIRST DAY 55

V. THE NEW LIFE 70

VI. A "MAD" PARLIAMENT 85

VII. THE CONSTABLE'S CHILDREN 100

VIII. STORMY SCENES 116

IX. A STUDENTS' HOLIDAY 131

X. THE FAIR OF ST. FRIDESWYDE 147

XI. THE MAGICIAN'S TOWER 163

XII. WINTER DAYS WITHIN THE CASTLE 178

XIII. KENILWORTH CASTLE 193

XIV. THE GREAT EARL 208

XV. PRINCE EDWARD 223

XVI. BACK AT OXFORD 239

XVII. THE BELL OF ST. MARTIN'S 254

XVIII. THE NEW CHANCELLOR 269

XIX. THE CHANCELLOR'S AWARD 285

XX. TURBULENT TIMES 300

XXI. KING AND STUDENTS 315

XXII. IN ARMS 328

XXIII. ON THE FIELD OF LEWES 344

XXIV. AFTER THE BATTLE 360

XXV. CHRISTMAS AT KENILWORTH 375

XXVI. PLOTS 391

XXVII. THE CAPTIVE A CONQUEROR 407

XXVIII. THE FATAL FIGHT 423

XXIX. LEOFRIC'S REWARD 439

XXX. ON THE STILL ISIS 454

A CLERK OF OXFORD.

CHAPTER I.

_THE DIE CAST._

"My son," spoke a gentle voice from behind the low, moss-grown wall, "we
must not mourn and weep for those taken from us, as if we had no hope."

Face downwards upon the newly-made mound of earth lay a youth of some
fifteen or sixteen summers. His slight frame was convulsed by the
paroxysm of his grief; from time to time a strangled sob broke from his
lips. The kindly-faced monk from the Priory hard by had been watching
him for some time before he thus addressed him. Probably he now saw that
the violence of the outburst was spent.

The youth started upon hearing himself addressed, and as he sprang to
his feet he revealed a singularly attractive face. The brow was broad
and massive, indicating intellectual power. The blue eyes beneath the
pencilled arch of the delicate eyebrows looked out upon the world with a
singular directness and purity of expression. The features were finely
cut, and there were strength and sweetness both in the curved,
thoughtful lips, and in the square outline of the jaw. The fair hair
clustered in curling luxuriance about his head, and fell in sunny waves
to his shoulders. His hands were long and white, and looked rather as
though they had wielded pen than weapon or tool of craftsman. Yet the
lad's habit was that of one occupying a humble rank in life, and the
shoes on his feet were worn and patched, as though by his own apprentice
hands. Beside him lay a wallet and staff, upon which the glance of the
monk rested questioningly. The youth appeared to note the glance, yet it
was the words addressed to him that he answered.

"I think it is rather for myself I weep, my father. I know that they who
die in faith rest in peace and are blessed. But for those who are
left--left quite alone--the world is a hard place for them."

Father Ambrose looked with kindly solicitude at the lad. He noted his
pale face, his sunken eyes, the look of weary depression that seemed to
weigh him down, and he asked gently,--

"What ails thee, Leofric, my son?"

"Everything," answered the youth, with sudden passion in his tones. "I
have lost everything in the world that I prized. My father is dead. I
have no home. I have no fortune. All that we had is swallowed up in
paying for such things as were needful for him while he lay ill. Even
that which he saved for masses for his soul had to go at the last. See
here, my father, I have but these few silver pieces left in all the
world. Take them, and say one mass for him, and let me kneel at the door
of the chapel the while. Then will I go forth into the wide world alone,
and whether I live or die matters nothing. I have no one in the wide
world who will know or care."

But the monk gently put back the extended hand, and laid his own kindly
upon the head of the youth.

"Keep thy money, my son. The mass shall be said--ay, and more than
one--for the repose of thy father's soul. He was a good man and true,
and I loved him well. That pious office I will willingly perform in
memory of our friendship. But now, as to thyself. Whither goest thou,
and what wilt thou do? I had thought that thou wouldst have come to me
ere thou didst sally forth into the wide world alone."

There was a faint accent of reproach in the monk's voice, and Leofric's
sensitive face coloured instantly.

"Think it not ingratitude on my part, my father," he said quickly. "I
was coming to say good-bye. But that seems now the only word left to me
to speak in this world."

"Wherefore so, my son? why this haste to depart? The old life has indeed
closed for thee; but there may be bright days in store for thee yet.
Whither art thou going in such hot haste?"

"I must e'en go where I can earn a living," answered Leofric, "and that
must be by the work of mine own hands. I shall find my way to some town,
and seek to apprentice myself to some craft. These hands must learn to
wield axe or hammer or mallet. There is nothing else left for the son of
a poor scholar, who could scarce earn enough himself to feed the pair of
us."

Father Ambrose looked at the lad's white fingers, and he slightly shook
his head.

"Methinks thou couldst do better with those hands, Leofric. Hast never
thought of what I have sometimes spoken to thee, when thou hast been
aiding me with the care of the parchments?"

The lad's face flushed again quickly; but his eyes met the gaze fastened
upon his with the fearless openness which was one of their
characteristics.

"My father, I could not be a monk," he said. "I have no call--no
vocation."

"Yet thou dost love a quiet life of meditation? Thou dost love learning,
and hast no small store for thy years. It is a beautiful and peaceful
life for those who would fain flee from the trials and temptations of
the world. And the Prior here thinks well of thee; he has never grudged
the time I have spent upon thee. I shall miss thee when thou art gone,
Leofric; life here is something too calm and same."

There was a touch of wistful regret in the father's tones which brought
back the ready tears to Leofric's eyes. After his own father, he owed
most to this kindly old monk, though it had never for a moment struck
him that the teaching and training of a bright young lad had been one of
the main interests in that monotonous existence.

"That is what I have felt myself," he answered quickly. "I love the
calm and the quiet, the books and the parchments. I shall bless you
every day of my life for all your goodness to me. But I would fain see
the great world too. I have heard my father and others speak of things I
would fain see with mine own eyes. It breaks my heart to go, yet I
cannot choose but do so. I dare not ask to come to you, my kindest
friend, my second father. I could not be a monk. I should but deceive
and disappoint you were I to seek an asylum with you now."

Father Ambrose sighed slightly as he shook his head; but he made no
attempt to influence the youth. Perhaps he loved him too well to press
him to enter upon a life which had so many limitations and drawbacks.

Yet he would not let him go forth upon his travels with so small a
notion of what lay before him. He led him into the refectory, where
strangers were entertained, and had food brought and set before him. The
lad was hungry, for he had of late undergone a very considerable mental
strain, and had had little enough time or thought to spare for creature
comforts. The long illness of his father, a man gently born, but of very
narrow means, had completely worn him out in body and mind; and now,
when thrown penniless upon the world, there had seemed nothing before
him but to wander forth with wallet and staff, and seek some craftsman
who would give him food and shelter whilst he served a long and perhaps
hard apprenticeship to whatever trade he chanced upon.

He spoke again of this as he sat in the refectory, and again Father
Ambrose shook his head.

"Thou art not of the stuff for an apprentice to some harsh master; thou
hast done but little hard work. And think of thy skill with brush and
pen, and thy knowledge of Latin and the Holy Scriptures; thy sweet
voice, and thy skill upon the lute. What will all these serve thee, if
thou dost waste thy years of manhood's prime at carpenter's bench or
blacksmith's forge?"

Leofric sighed, and asked wistfully,--

"Yet what else can I do, my father?"

"Hast ever thought of Oxford?" asked Father Ambrose, rubbing his chin
reflectively. "There be lads as poor as thou that beg their way thither
and live there as clerks, being helped thereto by the gifts of pious
benefactors. They say that the King's Majesty greatly favours students
and clerks, and that a lad who can sing a roundelay or turn an epigram
can earn for himself enough to keep him whilst he wins his way to some
honourable post. Hast ever thought of the University, lad? that were a
better place for thee than a craftsman's shop."

Leofric's eyes brightened slowly whilst the monk spoke. Such an idea as
this had never crossed his mind heretofore. Living far away from Oxford,
and hearing nothing of the life there, he had never once thought of that
as a possible asylum for himself; but in a moment it seemed to him that
this was just the chance he had been longing for. He could not bring his
mind to the thought of the life of the cloister; yet he loved learning
and the fine arts with a passionate love, and had received just enough
training to make him ardently desire more.

"Would such a thing as that be possible for such as I, my father?" he
asked with bated breath, seeming to hang upon the monk's lips as he
waited for the answer.

"More than possible--advisable, reasonable," answered another voice from
the shadows of the room. Leofric started to his feet and bent the knee
instinctively; for, unseen to both himself and Father Ambrose, the Prior
had entered, and had plainly heard the last words which had passed
between the pair.

The Prior was a tall, venerable man, with eagle eye and an air of
extreme dignity; but he was kindly disposed towards Leofric, and greeted
him gently and tenderly, speaking for a few minutes of his recent heavy
loss, and then resuming the former subject.

"Oxford is the place where lads such as thou do congregate together in
its many schools and buildings, and learn from the lips of the
instructed and wise the lore of the ancients and the wisdom of the
sages. There be many masters and doctors there who began life as poor
clerks, begging alms as they went. What one man has done another may
attempt. Thou mayest yet be a worthy clerk, and rise to fame and
learning."

"Without money?" asked Leofric, whose eyes began to sparkle and glow.

"Yes, even without money," answered the Prior: "for at Oxford there are
monasteries and abbeys to each of which is attached a Domus Dei; and
there are gathered together poor clerks and other indigent persons, to
whom an allowance of daily food is made from the monks' table; whilst,
through the liberality of benefactors, a habit is supplied to them
yearly, together with such things as be absolutely needful for their
support. Once was I the guest of the Abbot of Osney, and I remember
visiting the Domus Dei, and seeing the portions of meat sent thither
from the refectory. I will give thee a letter of recommendation to him,
good lad. It may be that this will serve thee in some sort upon thy
arrival."

Leofric bent the knee once more in token of the gratitude his faltering
lips could scarce pronounce. The thought of a life of study, in lieu of
that of an apprentice, was like nectar to him. Prior and Father alike
smiled at his boyish but genuine rapture.

"Yet think not, my son, that the life will be free from many a hardship,
to a poor clerk without means and without friends. There be many wild
and turbulent spirits pent within the walls of Oxford. Men have lost
life and limb ere now in those brawls which so often arise 'twixt
townsmen and clerks. The Chancellor doth all he can to protect the lives
of scholars and clerks; yet, do as he will, troubles ofttime arise, and
men have ere this been forced to leave the place by hundreds till the
turbulent citizens can be brought to reason and submission."

But Leofric was in nowise daunted by this aspect of the case. Trained up
hardily, albeit of studious habits, the fear of hardships did not daunt
him.

"So long as I have food to eat and raiment to wear, I care for no
hardship, so as I may become a scholar," he said. "And can I, reverend
Father, rise to the dignity of a master, if I do not likewise take the
vows of the Church upon me?"

"Ay, truly thou canst," was the reply. "There are the scholastic
_Trivium_ of grammar, logic, rhetoric, and the mathematical _Quadrivium_
of arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music. These form the magic
circle of the arts, of which thou mayest become a master without taking
any vow to Holy Church. Yet methinks thou wouldest do well to wear the
tonsure and the gown, that thou mayest in all quarrels or troubles have
the right to claim the benefit of clergy, and so escape from the secular
arm if it were stretched out against thee. This is the usual custom of
clerks at Oxford and Cambridge. But it commits thee to nought, if thou
art not willing to join thyself to any of our brotherhoods."

The Prior eyed him kindly, but Father Ambrose sighed, and Leofric
himself felt a qualm of shame at his own distaste for the life of the
cloister.

"The wish, the call, may come perchance," he answered humbly, glancing
from one to the other; "but methinks I am not fit for the life of holy
meditation, or surely the kindness I have here received would have
inclined mine heart that way."

"Thou art still too young to take such vows upon thyself," said the
Prior. "It is men who come to us aweary of the evils and strife of the
world that know the blessedness of the cloistered life. Thou mayest
learn that lesson in time; or thou mayest link thy lot with that of
these wandering friars, who teach men that they have found the more
acceptable way. For myself, I have found the place of rest, and I desire
to end my days here in peace."

"And how may I journey from here to Oxford?" asked Leofric with some
timidity, after a short silence. "Surely the way is long; and I have
never fared farther than Coventry, which place I thought to make my
home, if I could but find a master who would receive me as apprentice."

The Prior pondered awhile before replying.

"There be two ways of journeying--by land and by water," he replied; "if
by land, thou wouldest have to beg thy way from place to place. At some
hostel they would give thee bed and board, most like, if thou wouldest
make them merry by a song; or at some great house, if thou couldst
recite a ballad or speak a Latin grace. At the Monasteries thou wouldest
receive food and bed, and mayhap an alms to help thee on thy way. Many a
clerk begs his way to Oxford year by year, and is well received of all.
Yet the perils of the way are many and great through the forests which
lie betwixt thee and thy goal. It might be that the water way would be
the better."

"I love the water," said Leofric eagerly; "and my little canoe lies
beneath the bank under the alder clump. I have made many a miniature
voyage in her before. Methinks she would carry me safely did I but know
the way."

"And the way thou canst not miss," answered the Prior. "This little
stream which flows past our walls joins itself, as thou dost know, to
the wider Avon, which presently flows into a river men call the
Cherwell, and in its turn that doth make junction with the Isis, whereon
the town of Oxford is situate. This junction is hard by the town itself;
when thou dost reach that, thy journey will have an end."

Leofric listened eagerly. He had heard, indeed, of these things, but
hitherto they had been but names to him. Now it seemed as though the
great unknown world, lying without the circle of his daily life, were
about to open before him.

"I would fain try the water way," he said. "I am skilful with the
paddle; and I can carry my little craft upon my back whenever rocks and
rapids impede my progress. The season is favourable for the journey. The
ice and snow are gone. There is a good depth of water in all the
streams, and yet the weed and slime of summer and autumn have not begun
to appear; nor will the overarching boughs from the trees hinder
progress as they do when clad in their summer bravery. I love the river
in the early spring, and if I do but follow the course of the stream I
cannot miss my way, as I might well do upon the road in the great forest
tracks."

"Yes, that is very true. Methinks thou wilt be safer so, if thou canst
find sustenance upon the way. But thou canst carry with thee some
provision of bread, and there be several godly houses beside the river
where thou wilt be welcomed by the brothers, who will supply thy needs.
Take, too, thy bow and arrows; thou wilt doubtless thus secure some game
by the way. But have a care in the King's forests around Oxford how thou
dost let fly thy shafts. Many a man has lost his life ere now for
piercing the side of some fat buck."

Leofric's heart was now all on fire for the journey which lay before
him. He could scarcely believe that but one short hour ago he had
believed himself hopelessly doomed to a life of uncongenial toil. He had
never thought of this student life--he hardly knew of its existence; but
the Prior of the Monastery and some of the monks, who had known and
befriended both Leofric and his father, had themselves discussed several
times the question of dispatching the youth to Oxford for tuition; and
the rather unexpected death of the father, after a lingering illness,
seemed to open the way for the furtherance of this design.

Leofric had been the pet of the Monastery from his childhood. Always of
a studious turn, and eager for information, it had been the favourite
relaxation of several of the monks to instruct him in the Latin tongue,
to teach him the art of penmanship, and even to initiate him into some
of the mysteries of that wonderful illumination of parchments which was
the secret of the monks in the Middle Ages.

Leofric profited by every opportunity afforded him. Already he could
both speak and understand Latin easily. He had a very fair knowledge of
certain portions of the Scriptures, and possessed a breviary of his own,
which he regarded as his greatest treasure. For the age in which he
lived these were accomplishments of no mean order, and it would have
seemed to the ecclesiastics little short of a disgrace to them had they
permitted their pupil to lose his scholarship in some craftsman's shop.
They had frequently spoken of sending him as a clerk to Oxford, unless
he could see his way to becoming one of themselves. This, however, was
not to be. The boy, though reverent and devout, had no leanings after
the life of the cloister, and the Prior was too wise a man to put
pressure upon him. But he was willing to forward, by such means as he
could, any project which should secure to Leofric the advantages of a
liberal education.

So the lad was bidden to remain a guest of the Monastery for the few
days necessary to his simple preparations. The Prior wished him to be
provided with a habit suitable to his condition of clerk. This habit was
made of a strong sort of cloth, and reached to the knees, being confined
at the waist by a leather girdle. He was also provided with a change of
under-raiment, with strong leggings and shoes, and with a supply of
coarse bread and salted meat sufficient for several days. The Prior
wrote a letter to the Abbot of Osney, recommending the lad to his
favourable notice, and asking for him a place in the Domus Dei, should
no better lodging be obtainable.

Leofric himself spent his time in the mending of his canoe, which had
been somewhat battered by the winter storms. He had made the little
craft out of the bark of trees, and had covered it with pitch to make it
waterproof. Some story he had heard about wild men in unknown lands had
given him the idea of constructing this little boat, and now it seemed
as though it would be of real service to him in his new career.

Father Ambrose would sit beside him on the river bank, and talk to him
as he prosecuted this task. There was a strong bond of affection between
the old monk and the young lad.

"Thou wilt come back some day and see us, Leofric," he said once, as the
task drew near to its accomplishment; "I would fain look again upon thy
face before I die."

"Indeed I will, father. I too shall always love this place, and shall
never forget the kindness I have received, nor how these many days
masses have been said for my father, and never a penny paid by me,
albeit I would gladly give my all."

"Nay, nay, boy, it is a labour of love; and we know that thou wilt some
day, when thou art rich and famous, give of thine abundance to our
shrine here. Thou wilt see strange things in the great world, my son.
Thou wilt see the great ones of the earth rising up against their
anointed King, and that King taking vows upon his lips which he has
neither the wish nor the intention to fulfil. The world is full of
terrible things, and thou wilt quickly see many of them. Yet keep
through all a pure heart and clean hands, so will God love thee, be thy
path what it will."

Leofric looked up quickly.

"I have heard somewhat from time to time of the feud betwixt the King
and the Barons; but to me such tales are but as idle words. I know not
what men mean."

"Thou wilt know more anon," answered the monk gravely. "We have heard
from those who pass to and fro that times are dangerous, and men's minds
full of doubt and fear. I know not what may betide this land, but there
be those who say that the sword will ere long be unsheathed, and that
brother will war against brother as it hath not been seen for many a
long day. God forbid that such things should be!"

"And will such strife come nigh to Oxford?" asked Leofric. "Shall we
hear ought there of the battle and the turmoil?"

"I trow well that ye will. Knowest thou not that the King hath a palace
close by the walls of the city, and another but a few leagues away?
Methinks that in yon city there will be much strife of tongues anent
these burning questions of which we scarce hear a whisper. Thou must
seek to be guided aright, my son; for youth is ever hot-headed, and like
to be carried away by rash counsels. It is a grievous thing for a nation
to rise against its anointed head; and yet, even as Saul was set aside
by God, and another put in his place, we may not always say that a King
can do no wrong--albeit we must be very slow to judge and condemn him."

Leofric listened eagerly. Every day of late he had heard words which
roused within him the knowledge that beyond the peaceful circle of his
past life lay a seething world into which he was shortly to plunge. The
thought filled him with eager longings and desires. He wanted to shoot
forth in his tiny craft and see this world for himself. And, behold,
to-day his task was finished, and the Prior had ordained that at dawn
upon the morrow he should go.

His habit and provision were already packed and stowed away. He had
received his letter and messages, and had listened in meek silence to
the admonitions and instructions of the Prior. He had slept his last
night beneath the hospitable Monastery roof, and had heard mass for the
last time in the grey dawning.

Now he stood with one foot in his little craft, pressing the hand of
Father Ambrose, and looking round at the familiar faces and buildings
with smiles and tears struggling for mastery in his face.

Then the canoe shot out into the midst of the stream.

His voyage was begun.

CHAPTER II.

_A RIVER JOURNEY._

It was no light task that Leofric had set himself. The river wound in
and out through forest tracts hardly ever traversed. Trees blown down in
winter storms lay right athwart the stream. _Débris_ brought down from
above was often packed tight against such obstructions; and then there
was no way of proceeding save by dragging up the canoe out of the water
and launching it again lower down. As the forest was often very thick
and tangled along the banks of the river, this was no light matter, and
had Leofric not been gifted with a strong will and a very resolute
purpose, he might well have given up in despair.

As it was, he found travelling a great deal slower work than he had
anticipated, and already his store of provision was greatly diminished,
although he could not flatter himself that he had travelled any very
great distance. He was sometimes disposed to doubt whether, after all,
he had been wise in choosing the waterway in preference to the road.

Night was falling, and it looked as though rain was likely to come on at
moonrise. The clouds were sullen and lowering; the wind moaned and
whistled through the trees, and lashed the water into angry little
wavelets. Leofric was feeling weary and a little depressed by the
intense loneliness of his voyage, when suddenly he heard himself hailed
by a friendly voice from somewhere out of the thicket.

"Whither away, good friend, and why art thou afloat and alone at this
hour of the evening? What dost thou in yon frail craft out on the
darkling river?"

Leofric looked eagerly about him, and espied, not far away, a
ruddy-faced youth of about his own age, sitting beside the water
fishing, with a basket at his side that showed he had not thus sat in
vain. With a few strokes of his paddle he brought himself alongside the
bank. The sound of a human voice was as music to his ears after the long
silence of the forest.

"Good-even, good comrade," he answered, stepping lightly ashore; "and
welcome indeed is thy friendly voice. For four days have I been alone
upon this river, and the sight of a kindly face is like a draught of new
wine."

"But what dost thou alone upon the river?"

"Marry, that is soon told. I am a poor lad who would fain become a
clerk, and I am on my way to Oxford, there to seek to maintain myself
whilst I study the arts and win my way to a livelihood--"

Hardly had he got out these words before the other youth sprang to his
feet with a whoop of joy, and to Leofric's astonishment flung his arms
about his neck, and fairly danced in the exuberance of his delight.

"Now, what ails thee?" he asked, half amused, half bewildered. "Hast
thou taken leave of thy senses, good friend?"

"Thou mayest well ask--methinks it must even seem so; but listen, fair
youth, and soon shalt thou understand. I am the son of a farmer, but I,
too, have a great longing after letters. I have heard of this same city
of learning, and I have begged and prayed of my father, who has many
other sons, to let me fare forth and find my way thither, and climb the
tree of learning. At first he listened not, but laughed aloud, as did my
brothers. But my mother took my part, and I learned to read last winter
at the Monastery, and the kindly fathers spoke well of my progress.
Through these winter days I have gone daily thither, taking an offering
of fish, and receiving instruction from them--"

"That is how I obtained such learning as I possess," interposed Leofric
eagerly; "and my father taught me too, for he was a scholar of no mean
attainments. But it is the monks who possess the books and parchments."

"Yea, verily; and these last weeks I have mastered in some poor sort the
art of penmanship. And now my father has almost consented to letting me
go. Only he has said that I must wait until chance shall send me a
companion for the way. From time to time there pass by clerks and
scholars returning to Oxford after an absence, or making their way
thither, even as thou art doing; and my father has promised that I may
join myself to the next of these who shall pass by. Now thou dost
understand why I did so embrace thee. For if thou wilt have me for a
travelling companion, we may e'en start forth to-morrow, and find
ourselves in Oxford ere another week be passed."

No proposition could have been more welcome to Leofric. He had had
enough of loneliness, and this sturdy farmer's son would be the best
possible comrade for him. He was delighted at the notion. His canoe
would carry the double burden, and the fatigues of navigation would be
greatly lessened when shared between two.

"Come up to the farm with me," cried his new friend, "and there will be
bed and board and a hearty welcome for thee; thou shalt find there a
better lodging than in some hollow tree by the river-banks; and my
mother will give us provision enow ere we start forth upon our voyage
to-morrow."

Leofric was grateful indeed for this invitation. He made fast his canoe,
saw that his few possessions were safely protected from a possible
wetting, and followed his new friend along the narrow winding track
which led from the river-side to the clearing round the farmstead.

On the way he learned that his companion's name was John
Dugdale--commonly called Jack. The farm where he had lived all his life
was situated not more than five miles from the town of Banbury. Jack had
plainly heard more of the news of the world than had reached Leofric in
his quiet home on the upper river. Something of the stir and strife that
was agitating the kingdom had penetrated even to this lonely farm.

The great Earl of Leicester, Simon de Montfort, had passed through
Banbury on his way from Kenilworth to London, not long ago. There was a
great stir amongst the people, Jack told Leofric, and men spoke of the
Earl as a saviour and deliverer, and he was received with something very
like royal honours when he appeared. Leofric asked what it was from
which he was to deliver the people, and Jack was not altogether clear as
to this; but it had something to do with the exactions of the King and
the Pope; and he was almost certain that the clergy themselves were as
angry with the King as the Barons could be. He had heard it said that
half the revenue of the realm was being taken to enrich the coffers of
the Pope, or to aid him in his wars. More than that Jack could not say,
rumours of so many kinds being afloat.

"But let us once get to Oxford, good comrade, and we shall soon learn
all this, and many another thing besides. I want to know what the world
is saying and thinking. I am weary of being stranded here like a leaf
that has floated into some backwater and cannot find the channel again.
I want to know these things; and if there be stirring times to come for
this land, as many men say there will, I would be in the forefront of it
all. I would wield the sword as well as the pen."

This was a new idea to Leofric, who had contented himself hitherto with
dreams of scholastic distinction, without considering those other
matters which were exercising the ruling spirits of his day. Jack's
words, however, brought home to him the consciousness that there would
be other matters of interest to engross him, once let him enter upon
the life of a rising city. Oxford could not but be a centre of vitality
for the whole kingdom. Once let him win his way within those walls, and
a new world would open before his eyes.

Talking eagerly together, the lads pursued their way through the forest
path, and suddenly emerged upon the clearing where the farmhouse stood.
Lights shone hospitably from door and window; a barking of dogs gave a
welcome to the son of the house; and Leofric speedily found himself
pushed within a great raftered kitchen, lighted by the blaze of a goodly
fire of logs, where he was quickly surrounded by friendly faces, and
welcomed heartily, even before Jack had told all his tale and explained
who the stranger was.

The Dugdales were honest farmer folks, always glad to welcome a passing
stranger, and to hear any item of news he might come furnished with.
Leofric had little enough of this commodity; but the fact that he was
making his way to Oxford as a prospective clerk there was a matter of
much interest to this household. Farmer Dugdale was a man of his word.
He had promised Jack to let him go so soon as he should find a companion
to travel with. He would have preferred as companion one who had had
previous experience of University life; but he would not go back on his
word on that account. Leofric's handsome and open face and winning
manner gained him the good-will of all at the farm: they pressed him to
remain their guest for a few days, whilst Jack's mother made her simple
preparations for sending out her boy into the world for an indefinite
time, and the two companions learned to know each other better.

Leofric was willing enough to do this. He was very happy amongst these
hearty, homely people, and became attached to all of them, especially to
Jack. Together they strengthened the canoe, made a locker in which to
stow away sufficient provision for the journey, and a second paddle for
Jack to wield, which he quickly learned to do with skill and address.

Jack's mother took Leofric to her motherly heart at once, and she made
sundry additions to his scanty stock of clothing, seeing that his
equipment equalled that of her own son. It was little enough when all
was said and done; for times were simple, and luxuries unknown and
undreamed of, save in the houses of great nobles. The boys felt rich
indeed as they beheld their outfits made ready for them, and there was
quite a feast held in their honour upon the last evening ere they
launched forth upon their long journey.

Happy as Leofric had been at the farm, he was still conscious of a
thrill of pleasure when he and Jack dipped their paddles and set forth
upon their journey together. The Dugdale family, assembled on the banks,
gave them a hearty cheer. They answered by an eager hurrah, and then,
shooting round a bend in the stream, they found themselves alone on the
sparkling waterway.

To Leofric this voyage was very different from the last. There were the
same obstacles and difficulties to be overcome, but these seemed small
now that they were shared between two. Jack was strong, patient, and
merry. He made light of troubles and laughed at mishaps. They fared
sumptuously from the well-stocked larder of the farm, and the weather
was warm and sunny. To make a bed of leaves in some hollow tree, and
bathe in the clear, cold river on awaking, was no hardship to either
lad. They declared they did not mind how long the journey lasted, save
for the natural impatience of youth to arrive at a given destination.

"And I should like an adventure," quoth Jack, "ere we sight the walls
and towers of Oxford Castle. Men talk of the perils of travel; but,
certes, we have seen nothing of them. I've had more adventure tackling a
great pike in the stream at home sometimes than we have seen so far."

Nevertheless Jack was to have his wish, and the travellers were to meet
with an adventure before they reached their journey's end.

It came about in this wise.

They knew that they must be drawing near their journey's end. They had
been told by a woodman, whose hut had given them shelter upon the last
night, that the forest and palace of Woodstock were near at hand. They
wanted to get a view of that royal residence. So upon the day following
they halted soon after mid-day, and leaving their canoe securely hidden
in some drooping alder bushes, they struck away along a forest track
described to them by the woodman, which would, if rightly followed,
conduct them to a hill from whence a view could be obtained of the
palace.

Walking was tedious and difficult, and they often lost their way in the
intricacies of the forest; but still they persevered, and were rewarded
at last by a partial view of the place, which was a finer building than
either of the lads had ever seen before. But the sun was getting low in
the sky by this time, and they had still to make their way back to their
boat, unless they were to sleep supperless in the forest; so they did
not linger long upon the brow of the hill, but quickly retraced their
steps through the forest, trying to keep at least in the right
direction, even though they might miss the actual path by which they had
come.

Suddenly they became aware of a tumult going on in a thicket not very
far away. They heard the sound of blows, of cries and shouts--then of
oaths and more blows. Plainly there was a fight going on somewhere close
at hand, and equally plain was it that travellers were being robbed and
maltreated by some forest ruffians, of whom there were always a number
in all the royal forests, where fat bucks might chance to be shot,
undetected by the king's huntsmen.

The lads had both cut themselves stout staffs to beat down the
obstructions in the path. Now they grasped their cudgels tightly in
their hands and looked at each other.

"Let us to the rescue!" quoth Jack, between his clenched teeth. "I can
never hear the sound of blows without longing to be in the thick of the
fray. Like enough in the gathering shades the assailants will think we
be a larger party, and will make off. Be that as it may, let us lend
our aid whilst it may serve those in distress."

Leofric nodded, grasping his staff firmly in his hand. He had all the
courage of a highly-strung nature, even if he lacked Jack's physical
vigour.

Springing through the leafy glades of the forest, they soon came upon
the scene of the encounter, and easy was it to see that robbery and
spoliation was the object of the attack.

Four stalwart young men, wild and dishevelled of aspect, armed with
stout cudgels and bows and arrows, had set upon two travellers, whose
clothes denoted them to be men of substance. They had been overpowered
by their assailants, though plainly not till a severe struggle had taken
place. Both were now lying upon the ground, overmastered each by a pair
of strong knaves; and in spite of their cries and struggles, it was
plain that these sturdy robbers were rifling them of such valuables as
they possessed.

Jack took in the situation at a glance. With a yell of defiance he
sprang upon the nearest rogue, and hurled him backwards with such right
good will that he reeled heavily against a tree trunk, and fell
prostrate, half stunned. In a second the traveller had wrenched himself
free from the other assailant, and had dealt him such a sounding blow
across the pate (he having laid aside his stick in order the better to
plunder) that he measured his length upon the turf, and lay motionless;
whilst the other pair of bandits, who had been belaboured by Leofric,
seeing that they were now overpowered and in no small danger of
capture, flung down their booty and made off to the woods, dragging
their helpless comrade with them.

It was no part of the travellers' plan to take into custody these
knaves, and they made no attempt to detain them, glad enough to see them
make off in the darkening forest. But they turned to their preservers
with words of warm gratitude, and showed how narrowly they had escaped
being muleted of rather large sums of money; for one had a belt into
which many broad gold pieces had been sewn, and the purse of the other
was heavy and well plenished.

"We are travelling to Oxford," said he of the belt. "We joined for a
time the convoy of one of the 'fetchers,' conveying young lads and poor
clerks thither. But as we neared the place we grew impatient at the
thought of another night's halt, and thought we would strike across the
forest ourselves, and reach our goal soon after sundown. But we missed
our way, and these fellows set upon us. It is a trade with some lewd
fellows calling themselves clerks, and often pleading benefit of clergy
if caught, to infest these woods, and fall upon scholars returning to
the University, and rob them of such moneys as they bear upon their
persons."

Leofric's eyes were wide with amaze.

"Surely those fellows were not clerks from Oxford?"

"Like enow they were. There be a strange medley of folks calling
themselves by that name that frequent the streets and lanes of the city,
or congregate without the walls in hovels and booths. Some of these,
having neither means to live nor such characters as render them fit
subjects to be helped from any of the chests, take to the woods for a
livelihood, shooting the King's bucks or falling unawares upon
travellers. Some clerks run to the woods for refuge after some wild
outbreak of lawlessness. There be many wild, lawless knaves habited in
the gown of the clerk and wearing the tonsure. Are ye twain from Oxford
yourselves, or bound thither, since ye seem little acquaint with the
ways of the place?"

Explanations were quickly made, and the two elder youths, who might have
been eighteen and nineteen years old perhaps, suggested that they should
finish the journey together on foot, lading themselves with the contents
of the canoe, but leaving it behind in the alders, to be fetched away
some other time if wanted. They were near to the river by this time, and
the lads quickly fetched their goods, glad enough to travel into the
city in company with two comrades who plainly knew the place and the
life right well.

They were very open about themselves. The name of one was Hugh le
Barbier, and he was the son of an esquire who held a post in the house
of one of the retainers of the Earl of Leicester--"the great De
Montfort," as the youth proudly dubbed him. His companion was Gilbert
Barbeck, son of a rich merchant. His home was in the south of England,
but he had been travelling with Hugh, during an interlude in their
studies. In those days regular vacations were unknown. Men might stay
for years at the University, hearing lectures all the time through; or
they might betake themselves elsewhere, and return again and resume
their studies, without reproof. The collegiate system was as yet
unknown, though its infancy dates from a period only a little later. But
there was a Chancellor of the University (if such it could be called),
and learned men from all lands had congregated there; lectures in Arts
and also in the sciences were regularly given, and degrees could be
taken by those who could satisfy the authorities that they had been
through the appointed courses of lectures, and were competent in their
turn to teach.

The religious houses had been the pioneers in this movement, but now
there was a reaction in favour of more secular teaching. The monks had
some ado to hold their own, and obtain as many privileges as were
accorded to others; and friction was constantly arising.

Moreover the recent migration of friars to Oxford had struck another
blow at the older monastic system. The personal sanctity of many of
these men, their self-denying life, their powers of preaching, the
strictness with which they kept their vows, all served to produce a deep
impression upon the minds of those who had grown weary of the arrogance
of the Priors and Abbots.

The Grey Friars in particular, followers of St. Francis, were
universally beloved and esteemed. They went about barefoot; they would
scarce receive alms in money; their buildings were of the poorest and
roughest, and were situated in the lowest parts of the town. They busied
themselves amongst the sick and destitute; they lived lives of
self-denial and toil. The favour of princes had not corrupted them, and
the highest powers of the land spoke well of them.

Hugh told all this to his comrades as they walked through the darkening
forest. He was plainly a youth of good parts and gentle blood, and he
seemed taken by Leofric's refined appearance and thoughtful face.

"I would not go to Osney, or live in the Domus Dei there," he said.
"Thou hast saved me the loss of all my wealth; it would go hard if thou
wouldst not accept the loan of a few gold pieces, enough to establish
thyself in some modest lodging in the town, or even in one of the empty
niches upon the walls, where clerks have made shift to dwell ere now.
Out beyond the walls, shut up on the island of Osney, away from all the
bustle and roistering and tumult of the town, it scarce seems life at
all; and methinks the monks will get hold of thee, and win thee to be
one of themselves. Better, far better, be one of us in the town. Then
wilt thou see all that is to be seen, and learn far more, too, than thou
wilt in the schools of the monks."

Leofric listened eagerly to this advice.

"Is Osney then without the walls?"

"Ay verily, on one of the many islands that the river makes in its
windings. Oxford itself is little more than an island, for that matter,
since the city ditch has been dug on the north side of it. But within
the city there is life and stir and stress, and all the Halls where the
students lodge are there, and the lodgings amongst the townsfolks which
some prefer. Come and belong to us, not to the monks. So wilt thou
learn the more, and enjoy life as thou couldst not do cooped up on yon
damp island in the Domus Dei?"

"I would fain do so," answered Leofric readily. "I have no desire for a
monkish life. I would see what life is like without the cloister wall.
But I have little money; I love not debts--"

"Tush! be not over scrupulous. Thou hast done me one good turn; I claim
right to do thee another. Now no more of that. Let us put our best foot
forward; for it will be dark ere we reach our destination. Perchance we
may yet have to camp once more in the woods; for if the city gates be
locked, we may have some trouble in getting admitted. The townsmen,
albeit they live and thrive by them, love not the clerks. They will do
us a bad turn an they can; yet methinks we are even with them, take one
thing with another!"

Hugh showed his teeth in a flashing smile, and Gilbert laughed aloud.
Then the party strode on through the darkness, till they paused by
common consent to light a fire and camp for the night in company--it
being plain by this time that they could not enter Oxford that night.

CHAPTER III.

_OLD OXFORD._

With glowing cheeks and beating hearts, Leofric Wyvill and Jack Dugdale
beheld the walls of Oxford towering above them in the clear morning
sunlight.

For many long hours during the previous night had the four travellers
sat over their camp fire, listening and telling of the life of the
mediaeval University city. Already Leofric and Jack felt a thrill of
pride in the thought that they were to be numbered amongst its sons;
already they had wellnigh made up their minds that they would set up
together in some nook or turret in the city walls, make a sort of eyry
there for themselves, and live frugally upon the small sum of money they
possessed, until they were able to earn something towards their own
maintenance, or could borrow from one of the "chests" provided for the
benefit of poor students.

Hugh had carried his point, and Leofric's purse now held a few gold
pieces as well as his own small store of silver. By the exercise of
economy the two friends would be able to live in modest comfort for a
considerable time, and Leofric, at least, hoped before long to earn
money by his penmanship and talent in illuminating parchments.

[Illustration: PLAN OF OXFORD

SHOWING THE POSITION OF

THE ANCIENT HALLS, etc.,

ACCORDING TO WOOD.

_12th and 13th Centuries._]

They knew by this time where their new comrades lived. Gilbert had a
lodging with an honest citizen of the name of Seaton, who kept a shop
hard by Carfax, and sold provisions of all sorts to clerks and others.
He was one of the burgher class, who contrived to keep on good terms
both with the scholars and his fellow-citizens, and in the frequent
collisions between "town and gown"--to borrow the modern phrase--he
stood good-humouredly aloof, and would not take sides in any dispute.

Hugh lived in one of the many Halls which had sprung up within the city
walls. These were not collegiate institutions, but were merely places of
abode, hired perhaps by a number of clerks collectively, perhaps by some
master, who received inmates as boarders. They lived in these houses,
and took their meals there--everything being of the roughest and
simplest description--and attended lectures in the different schools
according to their own fancy. Some of the richer students enlisted the
services of a tutor; but many lived a free and lawless existence,
learning almost nothing, frequenting lecture just for the fashion of the
thing, but making no progress in scholarship, and spending the best part
of the day in amusement or fighting.

In the schools attached to the religious houses there was more order,
more comfort, and more decency of life than in these self-constituted
Halls; but amongst such clerks as had no leaning towards the religious
life there was a strong feeling of preference for simply secular abodes;
and there were difficulties between the monks and the University
authorities with reference to the course in Arts which held back many
from attaching themselves to the monastic schools.

All this Leofric and Jack had been told with more or less of detail, and
already Leofric was resolved against settling himself upon Osney Island,
in the Domus Dei there. He would present his letter to the Abbot, but
not until he had made a nook for himself somewhere else. Gilbert
declared that he knew of a little turret in the city wall, not far from
Smith Gate, in which two students had lived for a considerable time. If
it were empty, they could take possession of it, and by the expenditure
of a little money and ingenuity could transform it into quite a
respectable living-chamber for themselves. Many a poor clerk had
inhabited a chamber of that sort before, and Jack and Leofric secretly
thought that they should prefer the quiet life on the wall to the noise
and confusion which plainly too often reigned in the various Halls.

"We will go in by Smith Gate, and see if the turret be empty," said
Gilbert; "if so, these lads can take possession forthwith, and we will
show them where they can provide themselves with such things as be
needful for them."

They were nearing the city by now. Already there had spread beyond the
walls a certain number of Halls and other buildings. The Church of St.
Mary Magdalene and the colony of the Austin Friars were without the wall
on the northern side, and a few Halls had sprung up along Horsemonger
Street, as it was then called, which was on the north side of the city
ditch, where Broad Street now runs.

The Austin Friars were only just beginning to appear in Oxford; but the
Black, White, and Grey Friars had already obtained a footing in the
city. As the travellers approached the gate, they saw the cowled figures
flitting about, some with black habits over their long white
under-dress, some with a simple gown of grey or brown, bound with a cord
at the waist. These latter, who all (save the old and infirm) went
barefoot, were the Franciscans or Minorites--the Grey Friars of whom the
lads had heard; and they regarded them with curiosity and veneration,
believing them to be full of sanctity and virtue.

Out through the gate, just as the youths approached it, came a couple of
Masters in their gowns and hoods. Leofric and Jack scanned them
curiously, and eagerly inquired of their companions who they were.

"Nay, I know not the names of all the Masters in the city," answered
Hugh, laughing; "there be too many for that. Belike they have been
lecturing in School Street this forenoon, and are going back to their
Halls. Some of these same Masters will like enough come and invite you
twain to attend their lectures; but give not too ready an answer to the
first who asks. Rather visit several and pick out those who please you
most. It is oft the poorest and least learned who are most eager for
listeners, the better sort having always their lecture-rooms full."

And now they were actually within the city precincts. Smith Gate being
so close to School Street, the eager eyes of the two new-comers were
immediately gratified by the sight of many hurrying figures of clerks
and Bachelors and Masters, some going this way and some the other,
talking earnestly together, disputing with some warmth and eloquence, or
singing snatches of songs, like boys released from school.

It was not easy for unaccustomed eyes to distinguish the rank of the
various passers-by; for academic dress was still in its infancy, and
there were few, if any, statutory rules respecting it. The habit of the
clerk was very much what he wore at home, and the black cappa of
Bachelor or Master was often the same, though Masters were beginning to
wear the square, tufted cap, and had the right to the miniver hood of
the nobles and beneficed ecclesiastics. The scarlet gown of the Doctor
had just come into use, but was at present seldom seen, as many were
unable to purchase so costly a robe. The most common garment for every
person in the University was the "tabard" with the girdle, and these
tabards might be either red, black, or green; but black was the
commonest colour, as being the most serviceable in daily wear.

Fain would the lads have lingered to watch the shifting throng of clerks
and their preceptors, as they streamed out from the lecture-rooms for
the mid-day meal; but Hugh and Gilbert laughed at their eager curiosity,
and drew them along to the left down Hammer Hall Lane, pausing suddenly
upon reaching a small turret in the wall, which once had been open to
the street, but was now closed in by a few mouldering boards.

"Good!" cried Gilbert, as he pulled aside one of the boards; "the place
has not been taken. Now look well at it, you two, and see if you think
you can make shift to live here till a better place offers."

Pushing their way within the circular recess, the lads saw that a rude
stairway led up to some sort of chamber overhead. Mounting the rickety
steps with care--for they had become loose and rotten--they found
themselves in a small and not unpleasing little chamber, lighted by
several long, narrow loopholes, and roofed in securely from the weather
overhead.

The flooring was rather decayed, and there was a mouldering smell
pervading the place; but its former occupants had done various things to
render habitation possible. A fireplace and chimney had been contrived
in one corner, and some rude shutters had been affixed to keep out the
cold air at night, or in inclement weather. A rickety shelf that would
serve as a table still hung drooping from its nail. Plainly the place
had been lived in before, and might well be again. Leofric and Jack
looked round it, and smiled at one another.

"We could live here like princes, if there be nothing to hinder," said
the latter. "Can we come and fix our abode here without making payment
to any one?"

"Marry yes, since nobody uses the place. There be many such nooks along
the walls, and poor clerks have settled themselves there again and
again, no man saying them nay. In times of war they might post archers
or marksmen at these loopholes; but short of a siege, I trow none will
disturb you. And from without ye can climb easily upon the wall, and
enjoy the air and watch what goes on beneath. Also there be the Fish
Ponds just below, and I warrant ye will catch many a good supper from
thence when ye be in need of a good meal."

Jack laughed, for he had no small skill as a fisherman; but just now he
was all agog to see Oxford and settle into these new quarters.

"Had I but a few tools and some boards, I would fix us up bench and
table, mend the stairs and the floor, and make the place as comfortable
as heart could wish," he cried.

"And I would gather rushes for the floor, and wood for the fire, and we
should feast right royally on the last of the provisions we laid up for
the way," added Leofric.

"Then come away to Carfax, where ye can lay in such stores as ye need,"
cried Gilbert. "I will take you to honest Master Seaton, where I have
always lodged. He will tell you where to go for all ye need, and the
right price to pay: for there be dealers in the city who seek to mulct
clerks and scholars, and charge them more than the fair price for goods;
and the Chancellor, and even his Majesty the King, have had to
interpose."

"What is Carfax?" asked Leofric, as, after depositing their goods
carefully in the turret, they replaced the boards and sallied forth once
more.

"Why, the meeting of the four great streets of the town--Quatrevois some
folks call it--where High Street, Great Bayly Street, Fish Street, and
North Gate Street all meet. St. Martin's Church is there with its great
bell, and whenever there be strife 'twixt citizens and clerks, that
bell booms out to gather the citizens together; whilst our
rallying-point is St. Mary's, whose bell rings to warn us that they are
rising against us. At other times Carfax is the chief mart of the city,
and the bull-ring stands in the centre. But come, and thou shalt see for
thyself; and good Master Seaton will give us all some dinner, I trow."

Gilbert led the way, and the rest followed him willingly. The streets
had thinned considerably, the noontide hour having driven in clerks and
masters alike to their dinner. Gilbert strode down Cat Street, and
pointed out to his comrades several Halls situated there, and sounds of
laughter and loud talking and jesting broke upon the ears of the
passers-by, plainly indicating the proximity of considerable numbers of
inhabitants.

"That was the Hall where I lived last," observed Hugh, as he pointed to
a house, somewhat better than the rest, on the left-hand side as they
walked down Cat Street. "Corbett's Hall it was then called; and the
Master was an excellent man. I heard he was about to go elsewhere;
probably I shall find a new head by now. But I will not pause there now;
I will wait till the fetcher has brought in my goods and chattels. I
will come with you to Carfax, and pay my respects to good Master Seaton
first."

So on went the four, the pair who had never before seen a town gazing
with wonder at the quaint-timbered houses on either side the street,
whose projecting upper floors seemed almost to meet overhead. There was
no footpath or paving of any sort; the roadway was but a track, deep in
mud in winter, and in dust in summer. St. Mark's Church at the corner,
where they turned into High Street, brought Leofric to a standstill, for
such edifices were new to him; but his companions laughed and hurried
him on, telling him he could drink his fill of churches in Oxford any
day he chose, but that Master Seaton's dinner would not wait for his
leisure.

On they went along this wider thoroughfare, not pausing to examine
anything in detail, but taking in the general effect of a populated
city, which was immensely wonderful to the two lads from the country,
till Gilbert pointed to a tall tower standing out against the sunny sky,
and said,--

"Yon is St. Martin's Church, and this is Carfax."

It was, as he had said before, just a meeting of the ways, but such a
sight as it presented Leofric and Jack had never dreamed of. The open
place seemed full of people: there were stalls on which merchandise of
all sorts was being vended; loud-voiced salesmen were crying their
wares, or chaffering over bargains with customers. There were shops,
with signs swinging over them, that displayed a better sort of ware; and
lads of all ages, from thirteen upwards, in the tabard of clerks, were
strolling about, buying or examining goods, or exchanging a rough sort
of banter with the townsmen. A few Masters or Bachelors would be seen
threading their way through the crowd, but they did not often linger to
speak to any; it was the clerks who seemed to have all the leisure, and
some of these were playing games or throwing dice, whilst others looked
on, encouraging or jibing the players.

"Heed not that rabble rout," said Gilbert, forcing his way towards a
rather fine-timbered house at the corner, where Fish and High Streets
joined; "come to Master Seaton's house, and let us hear all the news."

Gilbert led the way into a shop, where he was greeted somewhat
boisterously by a merry-looking youth behind the counter. He nodded a
reply, and pushed open a door which gave access to a steep and narrow
staircase, and after ascending this he opened another door, and
instantly a number of voices were raised in welcome and greeting.

Gilbert and Hugh pushed into the room from whence these sounds issued,
whilst Leofric and Jack stood together just on the threshold, gazing
about them with curious eyes.

They saw before them a quaint, pleasant room, rush-strewn, and plainly
furnished with table and benches, in which a party of six was gathered,
seated round the board, which was hospitably spread with solid viands.

The master of the house was easily distinguished by his air of authority
and his general appearance. His wife was a comely dame, ruddy of face
and kindly of aspect. On either side of her sat a pretty maiden, one of
sixteen, another of fourteen summers; and the good-looking, strapping
youth, who was now greeting Gilbert and Hugh right eagerly, was very
plainly the son of the house. An apprentice looked on wide-eyed and
silent at the apparition of four strangers; yet it was plain that
neither Gilbert nor Hugh were so regarded in the Seaton household.

Not only were they joyfully received themselves, but their two comrades
quickly shared in the hospitable welcome. They were placed at the table,
their trenchers were heaped with good food, and the story of the
encounter in the forest was eagerly listened to by all.

"There be many poor rogues who have taken to the forest in these times
of scarcity," said Hal Seaton, the son. "The harvests have been bad, and
prices have been raised; and the idle and prodigal have had much ado to
keep body and soul together. Sometimes they take to theft and pillage,
and then flee to the forest for safety; and some go thither in the hope
of killing a fine buck unseen by the huntsmen, or to rob unwary
travellers, especially those that be coming with full purses to pursue
their studies here."

"Ay, and there be some that think there will be fighting ere long 'twixt
his Majesty the King and the Barons," added Seaton himself gravely.
"Heaven send such a thing come not to pass! It is ill work when brother
takes up arms against brother, and city against city."

The youths would willingly have asked more of the state of parties at
this stirring season, but just now personal matters were of more
pressing importance. So they left politics for another time, and told
about the turret hard by Smith Gate, where Leofric and Jack were about
to ensconce themselves; and Hal begged a half-holiday from his duties in
the shop, that he might take his tools, and some odds and ends of planks
lying about in the workshop behind, and help the lads to settle
themselves in.

This was willingly accorded, and Master Seaton and his wife both showed
great kindness to the would-be clerks. The former unearthed from his
stores some strong sacking fashioned into huge bags, that, stuffed with
straw or dead leaves, did excellently for bedding; and the latter put up
in a basket a liberal supply of food from her well-stocked larder, for
her motherly heart went out towards the two lonely lads, coming to
settle in a strange city, knowing nothing of the life before them.
Leofric's blue eyes and gentle manners won her affections from the
first, and no one could help liking honest Jack, who was so merry and so
full of hope and courage.

Laden with a number of useful odds and ends, the little party made their
way back to the turret chamber; and soon the sound of hammer, chisel,
and saw spoke of rapid advance in the necessary work.

Leofric crossed the river again to gather dead leaves and bracken for
bedding, wood for firing, and rushes for the floor. By the time he had
collected and brought in sufficient stores, the work overhead had
rapidly progressed, and he uttered an exclamation of delighted
astonishment as he beheld the result of the afternoons toil.

The stairs and flooring were mended, rudely, to be sure, but strongly.
Something like a fastening had been contrived to the lower entrance, so
that they could use the basement of the turret as a storehouse for wood
and other odds and ends. Up above, the little chamber began to look
quite comfortable. The holes in the masonry had been filled up with
mortar or patched by boards. The window shutters had been mended, and
could now be used for keeping out inclement wind. One of the loopholes
had actually been glazed by Hal's deft fingers, and he promised to keep
his eyes open for any chance of picking up some more glass, so that the
others might be served in the same way. To be sure, the glass of those
days was none too translucent, and save in very cold weather, it was
pleasanter to have the loopholes open to the light of day; but if heavy
rain or bitter cold should drive the occupants to close their shutters,
it was certainly advantageous if one or two of the narrow slits could be
glazed, so that they would not be left in total darkness.

The shelf table against the wall had been mended, and two stools of a
suitable height contrived. When the fire was lighted on the hearth, and
the smoke had been coaxed to make its way up the chimney, the place wore
a really cosy and home-like aspect, which was greatly enhanced after the
floor was strewn with rushes, and the two mattresses stuffed and laid
side by side in a little recess. The spare habits of the boys were hung
against the wall on pegs, and their few worldly possessions laid in
order upon the shelf which had been fixed up to receive them.

"I vow," cried Hugh, as he looked around him, "that I would almost
sooner have such a lodging as this than spend my days in a Hall. There
be Halls where fires are scarce known save in the coldest weather, and
where the rushes lie on the floor till they rot, and become charged with
so much filth that the stench drives the luckless clerks out into the
streets. It hath not been so where I have lodged, 'tis true; but there
be Halls wherein I would not set foot for the noisome state they are
in."

Leofric and Jack were charmed with their quarters, and when their guests
had bid them good-bye, and they had fastened themselves in for the
night, they looked at each other with a sense of triumph and joy. Here
they were, established as a pair of clerks in a lodging of their own in
Oxford, where none was likely to molest them. They had money in their
purses enough to last them a considerable time. They had made kind
friends who would help them through the difficulties and perplexities of
their first days; and surely before long they would find themselves at
home in this strange city, and would enter into its busy life (of which
they had caught glimpses to-day) with the zeal and energy of true
students.

As they sat at their table, partaking with good appetite, though
frugally, of the provisions left from the journey, seasoned by some of
Mistress Seaton's dainties, they spoke together of their plans for the
morrow.

"Methinks I should go to Osney, and present my letter. But I shall have
no need to ask for shelter in the Domus Dei, seeing how well we be
sheltered here."

"And I would fain see something of the good Grey Friars, of whom so much
good is spoken in the town," answered Jack; "and we must seek out such
Masters as we would learn from, and find out what fee we must pay to
attend their lectures. It is not much, methinks, that each clerk gives,
but we must be careful how we part with our money, for we may not find
it easy to put silver in our purse when our store has melted away."

"I shall ask the Abbot of Osney if he will give me vellum or parchment
to illuminate, for I have some skill that way," said Leofric; "I used to
help the monks of St. Michael. I might e'en do the same here; and,
perchance, I might teach thee too, good Jack."

Jack looked at his rough, red hands, and shook his head.

"I can make shift to read and write, but I never could do such work as
that," he answered. "I will fish in the ponds, and snare rabbits in the
woods, and make bread of mystelton for us to eat. My care shall be the
larder, and thou shalt have leisure for work if thou canst get it. So
will we live right royally in our nook, and learn all that Oxford can
teach us!"

CHAPTER IV.

_THE FIRST DAY._

The lads slept soundly in their new quarters, but awoke with the first
light of day, eager to enter upon the strange life of the city. Making
their way first to the top of the wall, they had a good look round them
over the still sleeping town; and then finding a place where, by the
exercise of a little activity, they could clamber down on the outer
side, they refreshed themselves by a plunge in the Fish Ponds, by way of
ablutions, and returned through the gate to their lodging.

They had a great curiosity to go forth together and see the city, but
they did not intend immediately to decide upon the preceptor they should
follow. Just at starting they felt almost too excited to settle to
regular study, and the visit to the Abbot of Osney was the first
business of the day.

Putting on their better habits, and making themselves as trim and neat
as circumstances permitted, the boys sallied forth, and took the way to
Carfax as before. They knew that Osney lay to the west of the city wall,
beyond the Castle, and they had a great wish to see that building at
close quarters; so they pursued their way along Great Bayly Street, till
they reached the mound itself, crowned with its frowning walls and
battlements.

As they passed along they saw not only numbers of clerks sallying forth
to their daily lectures, but great numbers of the Black Friars, who
appeared to be exercising considerable activity. Some were wheeling
little trucks or carts which held loads of what appeared to be goods and
chattels, and they appeared to be very busy, passing to and fro with
their loads or their empty trucks, like a colony of industrious ants.

"What are they doing?" asked Jack of a bystander.

"Removing themselves from the Jewry to the new House that the King's
Majesty has bestowed upon them without the city walls through Little
Gate and down Milk Street," was the answer. "They came and settled in
the Jews' quarter, hoping to convert the Hebrew dogs to the true faith;
but methinks they have but a sorry record of converts. Anyhow they are
going thence, and their new house is all but ready. A few may linger on
in the Jewry, but the most part will fare forth to the more commodious
building yonder."

Having thus satisfied their curiosity on that score, the boys passed
onwards to the Castle, and just as they approached the West Gate, they
were in time to prevent something of a catastrophe. As they drew near,
they perceived that a young lady, mounted on a fair palfrey, was
approaching from the outer side. She was quite young, perhaps fifteen or
sixteen, and was very fair to look upon. Her hair was a dusky chestnut
colour, and was loosened by the exercise of riding, so that it framed
her face like a soft cloud. Her eyes were bright and soft and dark, and
her figure was as light and graceful as that of a sylph. As the two lads
passed under the gateway, marking her approach, they bared their heads,
and glanced at her with honest admiration in their eyes.

The little lady noticed their salutation, and returned it with a gentle
dignity of manner; but just at that moment a piece of rag lying in the
gutter was suddenly whirled round and up by a gust of wind, right
against the face of the spirited little barb she was riding.

The creature suddenly took fright, reared up on its hind legs, and then
made a sudden swerve, dashing off along West Gate Street at a headlong
pace.

But luckily the girl rider was not borne away too in this reckless
fashion. When the creature started and reared so violently, she had been
almost unseated; and Leofric, seeing this, had with one quick movement
thrown his arm about her; and as soon as the palfrey swerved and made
off, the lady was simply lifted from her seat and gently set down by the
strong arms of both lads--for Jack had rushed up to give assistance.

She stood now in the roadway, dazed, but safe, looking from one of her
preservers to the other, and faltering out broken words of thanks.

Then the servant who had been behind, and who had in vain striven to
stop the runaway horse, rode up, lifted the little lady to his saddle,
and carried her away, before she had sufficiently recovered her breath
to do more than wave her hand to her two deliverers.

The sentry at the gate, who had now come up, looked after them with a
laugh.

"Old Ralph is a grim guardian. He will never let his young mistress have
speech of any. But I doubt not when it comes to the ears of the
Constable, he will seek you out to reward you; for fair Mistress Alys is
as the apple of his eye."

"Who was the lady?" asked Jack eagerly.

"Mistress Alys de Kynaston, only daughter of the Constable of the
Castle, Sir Humphrey de Kynaston. They say she is the very light of the
house, and I can well believe it."

After a little more talk about the Castle and its Custodian, the sentry
directed the lads how to find Osney Abbey; and after crossing
Bookbinders' Bridge and passing the Almshouses, they quickly approached
the gate by which access was had to the Abbey itself.

It was a fine building, inhabited by the Canons Regular of St.
Augustine. There were the Chapel, dedicated to St. Nicholas, the fine
cloistered refectory, the Dormitory, the Abbot's Lodging, to say nothing
of the fine kitchens, and the Domus Dei of which mention has been made.

The present Abbot was Richard de Appelton, and when Leofric presented
his letter and asked speech of him, he was ushered into the presence of
the great man with very little delay.

Strangers, even youthful strangers, were always received hospitably at
the religious houses, and the Abbot, after reading the letter of his
friend, spoke kindly to the boys, asking them whether they desired the
shelter of the Domus Dei.

Leofric explained what had befallen him since that letter was penned,
and how he had met with kind friends, and had already found a lodging
within the walls of the town. The Abbot stroked his shaven chin, and
looked from Jack to Leofric, letting his eyes rest somewhat longer upon
the face of the latter as he said,----

"So thou art not as yet disposed to the religious life? Yet thou hast
the face of a godly youth."

"I trust we may yet be godly without the cloister wall," answered
Leofric modestly. "It is not for roistering and revelry that we have
chosen to live within the town, but we would fain have some small spot
that we may call our own, and I had thought that perchance I might turn
such skill as I have in penmanship to account, so that I might earn fees
for----"

"Ah yes, I know what thou wouldst say. Perchance we can give thee some
work of that kind from time to time. But there be other ways of winning
money too, open to poor clerks. Thou canst say a prayer or a grace at
some rich man's table, or the Chancellor will give thee a licence to beg
for thy maintenance. A likely youth, with a face like thine, will not
find living hard. And if thou art ever in any trouble, thou canst always
come to me. The Domus Dei is open to such as thou, and any son who comes
from my good friend the Prior of St. Michael will be welcome for his
sake."

Leofric thanked the Abbot gratefully, and received from him a small
present in money, and two or three squares of vellum, such as were used
in the making of breviaries. This was a very great acquisition for
Leofric, as he could now begin some illuminating or transcribing work in
his leisure hours, and by the sale of this add to their scanty store of
money, and obtain the material for fresh work of a like kind.

This he preferred greatly to begging, notwithstanding that mendicancy
had been made respectable, if not honourable, by the friars, and that to
give alms to a poor clerk, or reward him for singing a "Salve Regina,"
or saying a prayer or grace, was one of the regular and esteemed forms
of charity.

"And remember, good lads, that there are homes in the city open to such
as ye," said the Abbot, as he bid them adieu. "There is Glasson Hall in
the High Street, which pious John Pilet gave to Osney Abbey not long
since. We might find room for the pair of you there, if you were
disturbed in your nest. There is Spalding Court in Cat Street, which the
burgesses of the town have bought for the use of poor clerks; and there
be Halls where the poorer clerks serve the wealthier, and earn a
pittance thus. Ye will find many ways of living; and pray Heaven we have
a good harvest this year, so that the present scarcity may cease."

And with a nod and a word of blessing the Abbot dismissed his young
guests.

"Let us take a prowl round the town," said Jack, as they turned their
backs upon the stately buildings of the Abbey, "there is so much to see
at every turn, and I would fain know the streets and lanes of the city
by heart. We must enter by the West Gate that we left, but we will
wander round the walls and see what lies in the south ward of the city."

Leofric willingly agreed, and they retraced their steps as far as the
gate, where they were at once hailed by the same sentry as had spoken to
them before.

"Fortune favours you, honest lads," he said. "The Constable of the
Castle has just sent down this purse, to be given to the two clerks who
saved the Mistress Alys from hurt when her palfrey took fright," and he
put into the hands of Jack a small leathern satchel, in which were a
goodly number of silver pieces.

"Now this is luck indeed!" cried the youth, as they took their way
onward. "We meet with success at every turn. Methinks that either thou
or I must have been born beneath a lucky star."

But they had little time for discussing their good luck, for almost
immediately they found themselves in the heart of the Grey Friars'
colony, which lay close to the West Gate, just where there was a gap in
the city wall, probably owing to the proximity of a marshy tract which
rendered the protection of the wall of comparatively little use. Trill
Mill Stream wound round the little colony, and formed its southern
limit. The parish was that of St. Ebbs, perhaps the poorest in Oxford.
This was doubtless why the Minorites, or Grey Friars, had made of it
their headquarters. To dwell among the poor, and to live as poorly as
any of them, was their principle and practice; and down in these
low-lying, swampy districts, fever, ague, even leprosy abounded, and the
Friars toiled with might and main amongst the sick.

The boys saw them going forth by twos and threes, or passing in and out
of their low, poverty-stricken buildings. It was against the desires of
their founder that they should ever possess property or aspire to
learning; but the practical inconvenience of the one prohibition, and
the thirst for knowledge which was growing up in the hearts of men at
this time, militated against the strict code of St. Francis.

The Franciscans made their houses as simple and unpretentious as
possible. They lived the most self-denying of lives; but they were
beginning to frequent the schools, and to teach in schools of their own,
and although there were often drawbacks and difficulties placed in the
way of their advancement, they had already many great and notable
scholars in their ranks.

The main difficulty was that by statute no one might begin in theology
who had not first taken a degree in Arts, whilst the vows and rules of
the monks and friars debarred them in many cases from any sort of
secular studies. They were so well qualified to lecture in theology that
it was often difficult to refuse their plea; and yet the statutes stood
in the way.

As the boys reached the corner of Milk Street, they observed a
Franciscan Friar of venerable aspect coming towards them, and
instinctively Leofric bent the knee as if to ask a blessing.

The old man stood still, and smiled benignly. It was one of the
characteristics of the Grey Friars that, in spite of the self-denial and
austerity of their lives, they were more uniformly cheerful, kindly, and
even merry in their talk and ways than any other of the religious
orders. For this reason, perhaps, they were beloved above others; and
the great ones of the world, as well as the poor, came to love and
venerate them.

"Peace be with you, my children," said the Friar. "Come you as strangers
to this city? Methinks you have the air of the country clinging to you
yet."

"We did but arrive yesterday," answered Leofric; "and we have scarce the
right to call ourselves clerks. But that is what we hope to be soon, so
as we can make up our minds where we shall gain the best learning for
such fee as our purse will enable us to give."

"You must needs first study the _Trivium_ and _Quadrivium_ of Arts,"
said the Friar, when he had questioned them a little more as to their
intended manner of life; "but since I hold that no learning is complete
that doth not embrace the study of the Word of God, come ye both, if it
please you and ye have time, to the school of our order, where I strive
to impart a few crumbs of knowledge to our clerks and younger brethren.
Many lads like ye twain come without fee, and glad shall I be if any
poor words of mine can give help or comfort."

The boys would have stammered out some words of thanks, but the Friar
put them aside with a smile.

"Nay, nay, lads, we are sent here not for our own but for others' good.
Ask for the School of the Franciscans, and for Brother Angelus. Most
mornings from nine till eleven I am to be found there. You will be
welcome. Go in peace."

"We will of a surety go," said Leofric, as they pursued their way. "He
had the face of a saint. I trow that this is a right godly place. We get
kindness from all we meet."

"Methinks it is thy face that wins it for us," quoth Jack, with a laugh;
"thou hast somewhat the face of a saint thyself."

There was some shrewd truth in this remark. Leofric's was a countenance
that could not but attract; and at that time there were such numbers of
rude, rough, ill-mannered and ill-living clerks in the place, that
favourable notice was often bestowed upon such as appeared of gentler
nature and manners. All the religious brotherhoods were more or less on
the look-out for likely pupils, and though the more enlightened of their
members would not put pressure upon lads to make too early a choice of
the cloister life, or of that of the friars, they gladly recruited their
ranks from such promising students and clerks as they succeeded in
drawing beneath their influence.

As the boys stood looking down Milk Street, they continued to see the
Black Friars flitting busily to and fro, fetching and carrying their
simple goods and chattels; and prompted by curiosity, they turned into
the Jewry, and were soon gazing with the greatest interest at the Jewish
denizens of that quarter.

The Jews had had a footing in Oxford from the very early days; they had
a synagogue in Fish Street, nearly opposite to St. Aldate's Church. (It
may be noted that the old Fish Street is the present St. Aldate's.) They
were, of course, the most moneyed class in the city, and they had their
own code and manner of life, were exempt from the operation of the
common law, and were treated as serfs of the King. Had it not been that
the Kings protected them from pillage by their neighbours, in order to
plunder them themselves, the Jews would scarcely have continued to
exist. The people hated and feared them, even whilst they borrowed from
them at a rate of usury limited by statute. But they were too valuable
to the Crown to be exterminated, and the Black Friars had settled
amongst them in the hope of effecting their conversion.

For many years they had considerable success, so much so that the King
established a house called the Guild Hall for the reception of the
baptized Hebrews. It was not really their lack of success (although
fewer conversions had taken place of late) but lack of room which
occasioned the flitting of the Black Friars from the Jewry. They were
not all of them leaving immediately, even now; but their new building
was almost complete, and a number of the brothers were about to take
their departure, hence the excitement prevailing in the locality of the
Jewry.

When the lads had gazed their fill at the strange dress and dark faces
of the Jews, and had listened to their talk, and their covert jests as
they secretly derided the Christian brothers who had dwelt so long
amongst them, they turned southward down Fish Street, and then by St.
Frideswyde's Street to the great group of beautiful and ancient
buildings comprising St. Frideswyde's Church and Abbey--the oldest in
Oxford--occupying the site where Christ Church now stands.

Grave, stately looking men walked with slow, meditative steps about the
enclosure in which stood those buildings. They were habited in a long
white coat of cloth down to the heels, girt about with a leather girdle;
over this was a short surplice of linen, and over that again a short
black cape that reached to the elbows. On their shaven heads they wore a
black square steepled cap. These were the Canons Regular of St.
Augustine--the same order as those of Osney.

Here again the walls were broken down, and had crumbled to decay, groves
and meadows and fish ponds extending southward to Trill Mill Stream. The
boys looked about them in silent wonder, but nobody addressed them; and
though they would have liked to steal into the church and see St.
Frideswyde's shrine, they did not venture to do so, fearing that they
would be regarded as intruders in that sacred place.

"Hugh le Barbier was telling me of notable miracles done at yon shrine,"
said Leofric, as they turned away at length up St. Frideswyde's Lane.
"St. Frideswyde was a daughter of an ancient king, and she built a
nunnery here, and was herself a nun. Afterwards it became a place for
monks, and now it is an Abbey; but the shrine of St. Frideswyde still
remains, and great wonders are wrought there."

"Hark!" suddenly cried Jack, whose ears had been more attentive to some
sound in the distance than to his companion's words, "I hear the noise
of a tumult. There is something stirring not far off. Let us e'en run
and see what it be. Methinks I hear the sound of blows and shouts."

Leofric heard the same sound which had attracted Jack's attention. It
seemed to proceed from a short distance off, and they hurried along till
they reached the corner of Great Jewry Lane where it joins Shydyard
Street (now Oriel Street), where the shouting began to take more
articulate form, and the boys heard the words, "North, North!--South,
South!" bawled and yelled from scores of throats.

"It is some fray betwixt the clerks," said Jack, who had not listened
for naught to Gilbert's tales during the night they camped by the fire
in the forest. "Did he not tell us that they were banded into two or
more great bodies, North and South, and that they were ofttimes coming
to blows together? Haply we had better stand close in this doorway, and
let the rout go by. Clerks are killed by their fellows in the open
streets every year, if what we hear be true, for nothing worse than
belonging to the adverse faction."

Leofric, who though no coward was by nature placable, and adverse to
blows, was ready enough to take this counsel, and set his back against
the door in the little porch which offered shelter to the pair. The
fight seemed to be coming their way, and presently a few clerks scudded
by, yelling, laughing, cursing; brandishing their clubs and hurling all
manner of foul and derisive epithets at those behind them, from whom,
however, they evidently thought it well to flee. Others followed, some
having cut heads or bleeding noses, dishevelled, out of breath, angry,
yet inclined to make game of themselves and others all the while.

"North! North! North!" they shouted, interlarding their words with many
an oath and epithet that need not be transcribed. "Ye coward
Southerners, ye only dare to attack when ye be ten to one. We will give
you back as good as ye gave! North! North!"

Plainly the pursuers were close behind the flying feet of the last
fugitive, when suddenly the rout was brought up short by the appearance
of a tall man in a long gown, with a weapon at his side, who came round
the corner at a quick pace, and confronted the rioters with stern
glances.

"How dare you disturb the peace again, you good-for-nothing brawlers?"
he cried in ringing accents. "Let me have such another scene within the
week, and I will have some of you to answer for it in the Chancellor's
Court. As if it were not enough that you must be fighting the burgesses,
fighting the citizens, fighting the Jews, but ye must be fighting one
another too, and that in broad daylight, when you should be at your
studies. To your Halls and lodgings, every man of you; and if I hear of
such another brawl as ye come from lecture, I will deal differently with
some of you."

The clerks, who had pulled up suddenly at sight of this stalwart
functionary, now began to slink away this way and that. Many of them
were mere lads, led on by the boyish instinct of fighting; a few were
evilly-disposed rogues, who were always to be found in the streets,
ready for any brawl; others, again, were scholars who had followed in
the wake of the crowd, with an idle interest in anything that savoured
of a fight rather than with any particular desire to take part in it.

These sorts of frays were of almost daily occurrence in old Oxford, and
only when they became too numerous or too severe was any particular
notice taken of them. The students for the most part lived and brawled,
studied and played, very much as it pleased them, and a fight, with many
or with few, was part of the day's work.

Jack espied Gilbert at the edge of the crowd, and made for him quickly.

"What is the matter? and who is he that stayed the fight?" he asked,
with eager curiosity; and Gilbert answered, laughing,--

"There is naught the matter; the fight was but a bit of play as the men
came out from lecture. We have such almost every day, and they seldom
come to more than a few cracked crowns. Yon man of the gown is the
Proctor of the South. There be two such in the University, one for the
North and one for the South; and I trow they have their hands full to
keep order sometimes! But come along, let us to dinner, and ye shall
tell your news."

CHAPTER V.

_THE NEW LIFE._

Before a week had passed away, Leofric and Jack felt as though they had
been months at Oxford, so many new experiences had been crowded into
that short space.

The more they saw of the strange life of the place, the more glad were
they of the chance which had given to them this little private shelter
of their own, instead of casting them amongst a number of strange clerks
in one of the poorer Halls or lodgings of the city.

For in the days of its infancy the University had enough to do in
protecting its own liberties from outside attack. It was therefore
unable to exercise individual authority over its heterogeneous members.
It provided instruction for them, it guarded their persons jealously
from assaults from without, and fought their battle right lustily when
jealous townsmen or papal emissaries sought to interfere with liberty or
life. But for the rest, the clerks and scholars lived in a state of
glorious and almost barbaric liberty, and all that Chancellor or
Proctors could hope to attempt was to restrain any serious outbreaks of
violence, either between clerks and citizens, or between the various
sections of the clerks themselves.

Open rioting in the streets was checked as far as possible; but an
immense amount of roistering and disorder could and did prevail without
let or hindrance, and there was no certainty from day to day that some
bloody collision might not occur in the city which might have a serious
termination.

Stories were told of clerks who had been set upon and killed by angry
citizens, of citizens who had been slain by clerks, of Masters even who
had met with injuries too often fatal in their effects, sometimes from
the hands of citizens, sometimes from those of scholars inflamed by
passion or drink.

There had been times when the King had had to interfere in order to calm
the strife between the contending parties. There had also been times
when the Masters and scholars had deserted Oxford by hundreds, if not
thousands, and had threatened to establish themselves in other
localities. This had been done when the citizens had put upon them some
marked indignity and affront, and had generally resulted in the
submission and humiliation of the town. For, as was pointed out to the
burgesses, the importance and prosperity of Oxford mainly depended upon
the presence there of this school of learning, and if they drove away
the scholars by their ill-judged enmity, they were signing the
death-warrant of their own city.

It was often to these quarrels and their adjudication that the
endowments (if such a word can be employed) of the University were
owed. The citizens would submit, and agree to pay so many marks a year
in token of their penitence, and these moneys were called "chests," and
formed a fund from which poor scholars might borrow without interest,
leaving a pledge behind; and private individuals would sometimes start a
similar chest, from which system gradually developed the scholarships
and exhibitions of our own days.

But the life of the infant University was a very strange one as compared
with the collegiate system which gradually grew out of it. Thirteen or
fourteen was a common age for a youth to commence life as a clerk, and
even at that tender age very little supervision was given him.

Originally the University copied to a certain extent the guilds of a
city corporation, and as a seven years' apprenticeship was imposed upon
lads entering trade guilds, so a seven years' course was expected of a
student between the date of his entry as a clerk and the time at which
he might take his M.A. degree. In the previous century there were
regular University guilds, and as the University was international, and
men from all countries came thither, these guilds naturally partook of a
national character, men of the same language consorting together, so
that different Halls became associated with the names of different
nationalities.

Even amongst the inhabitants of the British Isles there were
distinctions and race divisions. The Welsh formed a colony of their own,
whilst North and South were the two main factions in the place in the
thirteenth century, and these brawled terribly at times between
themselves.

Even when no actual brawling was going on, the streets of Oxford after
dusk were places where it was needful to walk warily. By day studies and
games occupied the clerks the best part of their time; but with the
setting of the sun a stop was put to these occupations. Candles were
dear, firing was often scanty, and the close, ill-smelling Halls, where
the rush-strewn floors were often not cleaned for weeks together, became
almost intolerable when shut up. Naturally enough, the clerks preferred
to sally forth into the streets, some to drink or sing songs at the
taverns, others to parade the streets, shouting and joking, and playing
any pranks that entered their heads. When it is remembered that almost
every person in those days carried arms of some sort, and that the most
trifling quarrel provoked blows, it may well be understood that the
evening hours in the city were anything but peaceful, and some sympathy
can be felt with the citizens in their enmity towards the gownsmen, even
though these were a source of profit to them.

Evening by evening Leofric and Jack heard hideous sounds of drunken
revelry proceeding from the various streets in the vicinity, and if ever
they had the curiosity to parade the town after dark, they were amazed
at the disorder and violence which seemed to prevail.

"I had thought," said Leofric, "that Oxford would be full of grave and
reverend doctors, whose presence would impose order and gravity upon
all. But methinks it is full of wantonness and revelling and fighting.
Right glad am I, good Jack, that we have our own little nest on the
walls. I should be loth indeed to belong to yonder herd."

Jack was not quite so particular, and a frolic in the streets, so long
as things did not go too far, was rather agreeable to him than
otherwise. Sometimes he would steal out, whilst Leofric was poring over
his illuminating work, and enjoy a stroll with some of the clerks of the
better sort with whom he had made acquaintance, and as he grew used to
the strange ways of the city, he found much to amuse and interest him.

Leofric had purchased, with the money given him by the Abbot of Osney,
some materials to enable him to work at the illumination of his vellum
leaves, and was doing some fine and beautiful illumination which was
certain to fetch him a good sum at some wealthy man's house. Jack looked
on in amaze at his skill, but sometimes felt the time hang a little
heavy. On such occasions he would sally forth to do the necessary
marketings, or to collect fuel, and so forth; and often Hugh le Barbier
would drop in to watch Leofric at his toil and exchange ideas with him
on many subjects.

Hugh was of a studious turn, and he had the same sort of refined
instinct as Leofric, and shrank from the tumult and rowdiness of the
streets. He had not yet succeeded in finding a Hall quite to his mind,
and was lodging at present at "Dagville's Inn" (now the Mitre), which
belonged in those days to one Philip Pady, a burgess, who had rented it
to an Italian of the name of Pedro Balzani, who had lived long in the
city, and made an excellent innkeeper, having great skill in culinary
matters, and a good English wife who understood the likings of her
countrymen.

"Thou must come and sup with me one of these days," said Hugh one day,
as he sat with Leofric after Jack had sauntered forth. "I have a
comfortable chamber enow, though somewhat chilly when the wind is
riotous; but I have found favour in the eyes of mine host, and I take my
meals with him and his family. This is not a grace he accords to all who
come, nor even to all who stay long in his house, as I am doing. And, in
truth, he does right to be cautious; for he has a pair of wonderfully
beauteous daughters, twin sisters, and so much alike that it was long
before I knew one from the other."

Leofric looked up with a gleam of interest in his eyes.

"Beautiful, thou sayest? I was wondering if perchance I could find in
this place a beautiful face; for see thou here, I would fain on this
square of vellum portray an angel with a roll in his hands, upon which I
shall inscribe, in fine penmanship, certain prayers. I have some small
skill in drawing faces. I used to amuse the monks of St. Michael by
taking likenesses of them, and they said I did it well. But it is not
easy to find a face for an angel, though there are some pretty lads here
and there walking the streets. I wonder if I could find an inspiration
in the face of your twin sisters."

"Thou shalt come and see," quoth Hugh eagerly; "methinks it would please
them well to be thus portrayed. For my part, I think that Linda's face
would be the better; it is ofttimes full of a sweet seriousness and
repose, whereas Lotta is all sparkle and fire; and it is by these two
expressions that I begin to know them the one from the other, though,
should Lotta be pensive and Linda merry, I am at fault again!"

"I should like to see them," said Leofric. "I have heard of such
things--sisters so alike that none may distinguish between them--but I
have never seen such. It must be something strange."

"Thou shalt come and see; thou and Jack shall sup with me to-morrow. I
have spoken to Balzani about you both before now. Thou hast a quick eye
and a keen understanding, and I would ask what thou dost think of Tito
Balzani, the son of mine host. For my part I like him not, and methinks
he has no love for me. He consorts with one Roger de Horn, one of the
biggest braggarts and bullies of the place. He calls himself a clerk,
but it is little of learning that will ever get into that pate of his.
He, too, comes to table with mine host and his family, and methinks he
is vexed and jealous because the same grace is accorded to me. He speaks
insolent words anent upstarts and fine-gentlemen fops; and it is plain
that he seeks a quarrel with me, or else to drive me to other quarters."

Leofric was interested in all that concerned his friend, for he had a
sincere liking for Hugh, who had been kind to him in a variety of ways.
He gladly promised to visit him on the morrow, and take supper with him,
being interested in the thought of seeing these Balzanis.

"I suspect there is some love-jealousy at the bottom of this fellow's
dislike for Hugh," remarked Jack, when he heard Leofric's account of the
matter; "there be some fellows who must always have a sweetheart, and
perchance this bully thinks that the fair ladies will think more of
Hugh's open face and gentle bearing than of his own. We will go and see
for ourselves; for I would be sorry that any hurt should come to good
Hugh. He is a very proper fellow; but in such a city as this any
evil-disposed person might seek a quarrel with his rival, and do him a
deadly mischief without fear of anything worse than the Chancellor's
prison. Benefit of clergy may be source of safety to some, but it can be
a source of peril too, when the vilest of the land claim it as a cloak
for their worst sins."

The new clerks were beginning to learn many lessons as to the working of
the prevailing system, and they heard many things from Brother Angelus,
whose lecture-room they sought whenever they could, and who seemed to
take a special interest in these two lads. Once they had accompanied him
in a round of visits amongst the poor in the parish of St. Ebbs, and had
longed to emulate his skill and tenderness with the sick. It seemed
strange to them to see one who was so learned in saintly lore, and who
was so revered in his own school by the pupils of St. Francis, humbling
himself here to perform the most menial office for the poorest person,
without a thought for his own dignity or position. But it was alike the
theory and the practice of the friars to humble themselves to tend their
brethren; nor did they think it shame to ask alms at the doors of the
rich, for they might possess nothing of their own, and must needs beg
sustenance for themselves and for those whom they desired to help.

Leofric and Jack had by this time settled what lectures to attend and
what masters to follow. They had been perplexed for a while at the
choice before them, and by the solicitations of their superiors for a
hearing in their particular schools. They had visited a considerable
number before finally deciding, and were now deeply interested in the
daily lectures they heard upon a variety of subjects. Jack declared he
had never had such a hard time in his life, and he wanted a good deal of
help from Leofric in taking in what he heard. But both lads had sharp
wits and a great thirst for information, and they soon attracted the
notice of their instructors by their regular attendance, and by the
attention they bestowed upon the lecture.

So far they had not made a great many acquaintances amongst their
fellow-clerks, the number of whom was quite confusing at the outset.
Some amongst them were too rough and uncouth to attract them, whilst
others, more gently born, were superior to them in station, and they
feared a rebuff should they attempt to make advances. Life was simpler
in its conditions in those days, and friendships easily grow up when the
young are thrown together; but pride of race is nowhere absent, and both
Leofric and Jack had a great dislike to putting themselves forward in
any way.

There was a great deal of talk in the city at that time, and indeed all
over the country, as to the condition of affairs betwixt the King and
the Barons. Leofric and Jack were only gradually beginning to take any
interest in political matters, being sufficiently engrossed just now in
their own affairs; but Hugh talked often to Leofric about the great Earl
of Leicester, who had married the King's sister, and who was now the
head and champion of the Barons' party. He spoke of him with the ardent
enthusiasm of youth, called him the greatest and noblest man of the day,
would tell long stories of his prowess in Gascony and other places, and
of the ill-treatment he had ofttimes received at the hands of the
capricious and unstable monarch.

"The King never knows his own mind two days together!" the young man had
scornfully declared, "and he makes promises only to break them. He is
the tool and dupe of the Pope, and is bleeding his country to death,
sending all its wealth across the seas for objects with which we have no
concern. And then he breaks every promise whereby he has attained these
moneys, and our charters and liberties are trampled underfoot, even when
he has most solemnly promised to observe and respect them."

Hugh was an ardent supporter of that party in the kingdom which began to
be called the Barons' party, and Leofric and Jack drank in his spirit
eagerly. It was, in fact, the prevailing one amongst the members of the
University of all grades. The friars, too, were far more in sympathy
with the champions of the liberties and rights of the people and the
constitution, than with the aggressions and tyrannies of a Pope-ridden
monarch. So that Oxford, although divided in some measure upon the
burning questions of the day, inclined on the whole very much in favour
of that party of which Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, was now the
acknowledged head.

When Hugh escorted his two friends through the streets to Dagville's
Inn, where they were to sup with him as arranged, he was considerably
excited by a rumour which had just reached the city, and which was
causing no small stir there.

It was said that Oxford had been chosen as the place where in a short
time, perhaps two months hence, a Parliament was to be assembled in
which the burning questions of the day were to be discussed, and some
settlement of a definite nature arrived at between the King and his
nobles. The very idea of this great assembly sent a thrill of excitement
through the place. The streets were crowded with knots of clerks and
citizens, for once all gathered amicably together, discussing the news
which had been brought from London, and wondering whether it were true.

Dagville's Inn presented a lively appearance. Its porch and bar were
crowded with guests, and a dark-faced man, who spoke with the accent of
a foreigner, was busy serving the guests, as was also a youth with a
tousle of frizzy hair and a pair of shifty black eyes, who bore a strong
resemblance to mine host, but looked a great deal more crafty and cruel.

Leofric observed his face as he passed in, and noted that he gave an
ugly scowl at sight of them. It seemed plain that he had no liking for
Hugh, although what was the cause of the grudge he bore him it was less
easy to decide.

Hugh pushed his way through the lower room, his guests following; and
after mounting to the upper floor, they found themselves in a pleasant
room, not unlike that in which they had seen the Seaton family assembled
on their first arrival at the city. Its window, which was large and
latticed, though the lattice stood wide open to the mild evening air,
looked upon the High Street; and upon the window seat lay a lute, and a
piece of fine embroidery work such as was seldom seen save in the
nunneries or in the houses of fine ladies.

A table in the centre of the room was set for supper, but the apartment
itself was empty, and Leofric took up the lute gently, and fingered it
with loving touches. But the next moment he put it hastily down, for the
door opened, and a pleasant-looking motherly woman came in bearing a
smoking dish, and she was followed by two maidens, each with a dish in
her hands.

Hugh stepped forward to relieve one daughter of her load, and Jack did
the same by the second. Leofric, who was more shy by nature, stood where
he was in the window, looking in a sort of amaze from one girl to the
other. Both were dressed exactly alike, in a semi-Italian fashion which
he thought most bewitching; but it was the beauty of the two faces, and
their extraordinary similarity, which confused and bewildered him. No
wonder Hugh had said it was hard to tell one sister from the other; he
marvelled that any should learn to know them apart. To his eyes the
faces seemed identical, the same rich colouring, the same dark
velvet-soft eyes, the same flashing smile and finely-pencilled brows.

Hugh made him known to the sisters, who were girls of about his own age,
albeit their southern blood made them appear older than their age. He
called one Lotta and one Linda, and asked Leofric if he thought they
would do as models for him.

The young artist blushed to the roots of his hair, and knew not what to
say; but one of the maidens laughed merrily, and looked archly into his
face.

"Methinks if he wants an angel-model, he had best take his own
portrait," she said, in clear musical tones; whilst the other sister
added in a voice of precisely the same character,--

"Or seek to get a glimpse of lovely Mistress Alys at the Castle.
Methinks she has the fairest face of any maid in the city."

Whilst the young people were talking together in the window, and drawing
out Leofric to tell them of his art, and even to show them what he could
do by means of a bit of charcoal upon a piece of wood, a tall, burly,
dark-browed young fellow lounged into the room, and looked across at the
group round Leofric with a scowl in his deep-set eyes.

Jack was the only one who noticed his entrance, and he knew the intruder
to be Roger de Horn, who had a certain notoriety in the place as being
one of its most turbulent spirits.

"Supper, supper, good folks," called the mistress from the head of the
table, where she had seated herself before another smoking dish which
she had been to fetch. "If the father and Tito are busy for the moment,
we must not let the supper spoil. Doubtless they will join us when they
smell the viands.--Come, young sir, and let us see if thou canst wield a
knife as well as a pen, for I believe not in your starveling clerks.
Good victuals make good scholars, as I always say."

The hostess was a cheerful soul, and her calling in life had given her
easy, pleasant manners that won her good-will from all. She looked
little enough like the mother of the crafty Tito, or even of these
beautiful girls. Tito, in truth, was not her son; for Balzani had been
married twice, and his first wife had been of his own nationality. Tito
was several years older than the twin sisters, and no very great
likeness existed between them. Yet the daughters looked far more Italian
than English, although they spoke their mother's tongue with perfect
fluency, and without any sort of accent. They were both very charming
girls. Leofric could not on that occasion decide in the least which was
the more charming, for he could not tell them apart. Sometimes he
thought he was beginning to know them, but again found himself
completely at fault. But he was delighted with the permission accorded
to him of drawing their portraits, and the girls' eagerness over this
matter amused and gratified him not a little.

Roger seemed in a very ill temper all the while, as Jack was not slow to
notice. He sat silent and sullen at the board, nor did it soothe him to
observe that nobody seemed to miss him or take note of his ill-humour.
All were occupied with Hugh and his guests, chattering and laughing
gaily. Nobody appeared to have a word or a look for him, unless it were
the hostess, who pressed him sometimes to partake of one or another of
the dishes on the table, but always returned to join the chatter of the
young folks, which plainly interested her much more than the morose
responses of Roger.

When Balzani and his son appeared, they were full of the news which was
exciting the place. The innkeeper was pleased with the thought of all
the fine company that this meeting would bring to the town. He did not
profess to know or to care very much about the rights of the case; he
was still too much the foreigner to enter keenly into English politics.
But the local excitement he thoroughly appreciated, and when he got a
chance he questioned Hugh closely about the great Earl of Leicester and
his household and retinue, wondering whether so great a man would
condescend to lodge in his house, and if so, what gain such a thing
would bring to him.

When Jack and Leofric took their leave, promising another visit soon,
Hugh walked with them part of the way, asking their opinion of his
quarters and his friends.

"I'd have a care if I were thee," said Jack, with one of his shrewd
glances; "for that braggart Roger de Horn is no friend of thine, and
methinks Tito and he are fast friends. In this city it behoves men to
walk warily if they have foes abroad. I would have a care if I were
thee."

CHAPTER VI.

_A "MAD" PARLIAMENT._

"'Twill be a mad Parliament, gentlemen, a mad Parliament," said one
reverend doctor, as the news was definitely made known in Oxford that
that place had been selected by King and Barons as a neutral spot where
the adjourned Parliament should meet.

Great excitement reigned throughout the city and University. Nothing was
talked of but the political situation, the weakness of the King, the
resolution of the Barons to enforce the terms of the Great Charter upon
the tyrannical monarch, and the possibility (only too well grounded)
that the Sovereign, advised by his foreign favourites, would seek to
call in aid from abroad, and overrun the fair realm of England with
foreign mercenaries.

"But hireling foreigners must be paid," remarked one citizen grimly, as
this danger was mooted, "and until the nation gets its rights and
liberties, no more money will his Majesty wring from it. The sinews of
war are in our pockets, and there they shall stay unless the King
chooses to hear reason."

"Ay, and more than that," cried Gilbert, hurrying up to join the eager
crowd; "I have had good news from my father in the south. He tells me
that the Barons have garrisoned the Cinque Ports, so that no foreigners
may land on our coasts. As the truce with France has just expired, they
have good reason for this step, without doing any disloyalty to his
Majesty; but all the world knows with what special object it has been
done at this moment. Methinks we shall be free from fear of foreign
invasion, and that we shall obtain our liberties without bloodshed."

"Heaven grant we may!" cried the older and graver amongst the
townsfolks, some of whom remembered, and others had heard from their
fathers, the tales of the terrible struggle in John's time, which had
led to the granting of the Great Charter. They wanted no repetition of
such scenes as those; albeit some of the younger and more ardent
spirits, and the lawless and violent ones, would not have been
displeased had some open collision occurred which should cause the whole
country to fly to arms.

Even as it was, great impetus had been given to the joustings and
practices of wars in the meadows around the city. Both clerks and
citizens went out afoot or on horseback during the long evenings of
summer, and often such a tumult arose, and such a din of arms, that one
might well suppose some real battle was going on rather than an
imitation of it.

June had come, and all the world was clothed in verdure. Oxford was
looking her best and brightest at this season. As the day for the
assembling of this Parliament drew near, the excitement became intense.
Lectures in some cases were suspended, and discipline of any kind became
enforced only with difficulty.

As usual, there were two parties in the city. The very fact that the
scholars sided almost to a man with the Barons' party disposed some of
the citizens to throw in their sympathies with the King. Henry was no
special favourite, but he was personally beloved by those who had at any
time had access to his presence. He was not vicious, and he was devout;
his defenders could always say many things in his favour. He was not a
monarch to inspire respect or personal enthusiasm; but then neither was
he one who roused against himself any great outbreak of popular rage.
Had he lived in less critical days, or been better advised, he might
have passed through life comfortably and easily, and have been regarded
as a good and well-meaning monarch.

"We must needs see some of these great sights!" cried Jack excitedly to
Leofric, after coming back from a prowl round the city one evening.
"They say that to-morrow the Barons will march into the city; and upon
the day following the King will arrive at Beaumont Palace. We must go
forth to see these brave sights. Marry, what a time it will be for
Oxford! Right glad am I to be here at such a season! Think of it--I
might have been following the plough behind my father's horses, knowing
naught of the great things that be doing in the world!"

A few min