When the herdsmen came into the hall they fell
straightway to asking questions concerning those of the Fellowship
who had been slain in the fray, and of their wives and children; so
that for a while thereafter no man cared to jest, for they were a
neighbourly and kind folk, and were sorry both for the dead, and
also for the living that should suffer from that day's work.
So then we sat silent awhile. The unseen moon was bright over
the roof of the house, so that outside all was gleaming bright save
the black shadows, though the moon came not into the room, and the
white wall of the tower was the whitest and the brightest thing we
could see.
Wide open were the windows, and the scents of the fragrant night
floated in upon us, and the sounds of the men at their meat or
making merry about the township; and whiles we heard the gibber of
an owl from the trees westward of the church, and the sharp cry of
a blackbird made fearful by the prowling stoat, or the far-off
lowing of a cow from the upland pastures; or the hoofs of a horse
trotting on the pilgrimage road (and one of our watchers would that
be).
Thus we sat awhile, and once again came that feeling over me of
wonder and pleasure at the strange and beautiful sights, mingled
with the sights and sounds and scents beautiful indeed, yet not
strange, but rather long familiar to me.
But now Will Green started in his seat where he sat with his
daughter hanging over his chair, her hand amidst his thick black
curls, and she weeping softly, I thought; and his rough strong
voice broke the silence.
"Why, lads and neighbours, what ails us? If the knights who fled
from us this eve were to creep back hither and look in at the
window, they would deem that they had slain us after all, and that
we were but the ghosts of the men who fought them. Yet, forsooth,
fair it is at whiles to sit with friends and let the summer night
speak for us and tell us its tales. But now, sweetling, fetch the
mazer and the wine."
"Forsooth," said John Ball, "if ye laugh not over-much now, ye
shall laugh the more on the morrow of to-morrow, as ye draw nearer
to the play of point and edge."
"That is sooth," said one of the upland guests. "So it was seen
in France when we fought there; and the eve of fight was sober and
the morn was merry."
"Yea," said another, "but there, forsooth, it was for nothing ye
fought; and to-morrow it shall be for a fair reward."
"It was for life we fought," said the first.
"Yea," said the second, "for life; and leave to go home and find
the lawyers at their fell game. Ho, Will Green, call a health over
the cup!"
For now Will Green had a bowl of wine in his hand. He stood up
and said: "Here, now, I call a health to the wrights of Kent who be
turning our plough-shares into swords and our pruning-hooks into
spears! Drink around, my masters!"
Then he drank, and his daughter filled the bowl brimming again
and he passed it to me. As I took it I saw that it was of light
polished wood curiously speckled, with a band of silver round it,
on which was cut the legend, "In the name of the Trinity fill the
cup and drink to me." And before I drank, it came upon me to say,
"To-morrow, and the fair days afterwards!"
Then I drank a great draught of the strong red wine, and passed
it on; and every man said something over it, as "The road to London
Bridge!" "Hob Carter and his mate!" and so on, till last of all
John Ball drank, saying:
"Ten years hence, and the freedom of the Fellowship!" Then he
said to Will Green: "Now, Will, must I needs depart to go and wake
the dead, both friend and foe in the church yonder; and whoso of
you will be shriven let him come to me thither in the morn, nor
spare for as little after sunrise as it may be. And this our friend
and brother from over the water of Thames, he hath will to talk
with me and I with him; so now will I take him by the hand: and so
God keep you, fellows!"
I rose to meet him as he came round the head of the table, and
took his hand. Will Green turned round to me and said:
"Thou wilt come back again timely, old lad; for betimes on the
morrow must we rise if we shall dine at Rochester."
I stammered as I yea-said him; for John Ball was looking
strangely at me with a half-smile, and my heart beat anxiously and
fearfully: but we went quietly to the door and so out into the
bright moonlight.
I lingered a little when we had passed the threshold, and looked
back at the yellow-lighted window and the shapes of the men that I
saw therein with a grief and longing that I could not give myself a
reason for, since I was to come back so soon. John Ball did not
press me to move forward, but held up his hand as if to bid me
hearken. The folk and guests there had already shaken themselves
down since our departure, and were gotten to be reasonably merry it
seemed; for one of the guests, he who had spoken of France before,
had fallen to singing a ballad of the war to a wild and melancholy
tune. I remember the first rhymes of it, which I heard as I turned
away my head and we moved on toward the church:
"On a fair field of France
We fought on a morning
So lovely as it lieth
Along by the water.
There was many a lord there
Mowed men in the medley,
'Midst the banners of the barons
And bold men of the knighthood,
And spearmen and sergeants
And shooters of the shaft."
Chapter 9
BETWIXT THE LIVING AND THE DEAD
We entered the church through the south porch under a
round-arched door carved very richly, and with a sculpture over the
doorway and under the arch, which, as far as I could see by the
moonlight, figured St. Michael and the Dragon. As I came into the
rich gloom of the nave I noticed for the first time that I had one
of those white poppies in my hand; I must have taken it out of the
pot by the window as I passed out of Will Green's house.
The nave was not very large, but it looked spacious too; it was
somewhat old, but well-built and handsome; the roof of curved
wooden rafters with great tie-beams going from wall to wall. There
was no light in it but that of the moon streaming through the
windows, which were by no means large, and were glazed with white
fretwork, with here and there a little figure in very deep rich
colours. Two larger windows near the east end of each aisle had
just been made so that the church grew lighter toward the east, and
I could see all the work on the great screen between the nave and
chancel which glittered bright in new paint and gilding: a candle
glimmered in the loft above it, before the huge rood that filled up
the whole space between the loft and the chancel arch. There was an
altar at the east end of each aisle, the one on the south side
standing against the outside wall, the one on the north against a
traceried gaily-painted screen, for that aisle ran on along the
chancel. There were a few oak benches near this second altar,
seemingly just made, and well carved and moulded; otherwise the
floor of the nave, which was paved with a quaint pavement of glazed
tiles like the crocks I had seen outside as to ware, was quite
clear, and the shafts of the arches rose out of it white and
beautiful under the moon as though out of a sea, dark but with
gleams struck over it.
The priest let me linger and look round, when he had crossed
himself and given me the holy water; and then I saw that the walls
were figured all over with stories, a huge St. Christopher with his
black beard looking like Will Green, being close to the porch by
which we entered, and above the chancel arch the Doom of the last
Day, in which the painter had not spared either kings or bishops,
and in which a lawyer with his blue coif was one of the chief
figures in the group which the Devil was hauling off to hell.
"Yea," said John Ball, "'tis a goodly church and fair as you may
see 'twixt Canterbury and London as for its kind; and yet do I
misdoubt me where those who are dead are housed, and where those
shall house them after they are dead, who built this house for God
to dwell in. God grant they be cleansed at last; forsooth one of
them who is now alive is a foul swine and a cruel wolf. Art thou
all so sure, scholar, that all such have souls? and if it be so,
was it well done of God to make them? I speak to thee thus, for I
think thou art no delator; and if thou be, why should I heed it,
since I think not to come back from this journey."
I looked at him and, as it were, had some ado to answer him; but
I said at last, "Friend, I never saw a soul, save in the body; I
cannot tell."
He crossed himself and said, "Yet do I intend that ere many days
are gone by my soul shall be in bliss among the fellowship of the
saints, and merry shall it be, even before my body rises from the
dead; for wisely I have wrought in the world, and I wot well of
friends that are long ago gone from the world, as St. Martin, and
St. Francis, and St. Thomas of Canterbury, who shall speak well of
me to the heavenly Fellowship, and I shall in no wise lose my
reward."
I looked shyly at him as he spoke; his face looked sweet and
calm and happy, and I would have said no word to grieve him; and
yet belike my eyes looked wonder on him: he seemed to note it and
his face grew puzzled. "How deemest thou of these things?" said he:
"why do men die else, if it be otherwise than this?"
I smiled: "Why then do they live?" said I.
Even in the white moonlight I saw his face flush, and he cried
out in a great voice, "To do great deeds or to repent them that
they ever were born." "Yea," said I, "they live to live because the
world liveth." He stretched out his hand to me and grasped mine,
but said no more; and went on till we came to the door in the
rood-screen; then he turned to me with his hand on the ring-latch,
and said, "Hast thou seen many dead men?"
"Nay, but few," said I.
"And I a many," said he; "but come now and look on these, our
friends first and then our foes, so that ye may not look to see
them while we sit and talk of the days that are to be on the earth
before the Day of Doom cometh."
So he opened the door, and we went into the chancel; a light
burned on the high altar before the host, and looked red and
strange in the moonlight that came through the wide traceried
windows unstained by the pictures and beflowerings of the glazing;
there were new stalls for the priests and vicars where we entered,
carved more abundantly and beautifully than any of the woodwork I
had yet seen, and everywhere was rich and fair colour and delicate
and dainty form. Our dead lay just before the high altar on low
biers, their faces all covered with linen cloths, for some of them
had been sore smitten and hacked in the fray. We went up to them
and John Ball took the cloth from the face of one; he had been shot
to the heart with a shaft and his face was calm and smooth. He had
been a young man fair and comely, with hair flaxen almost to
whiteness; he lay there in his clothes as he had fallen, the hands
crossed over his breast and holding a rush cross. His bow lay on
one side of him, his quiver of shafts and his sword on the
other.
John Ball spake to me while he held the corner of the sheet:
"What sayest thou, scholar? feelest thou sorrow of heart when thou
lookest on this, either for the man himself, or for thyself and the
time when thou shalt be as he is?"
I said, "Nay, I feel no sorrow for this; for the man is not
here: this is an empty house, and the master has gone from it.
Forsooth, this to me is but as a waxen image of a man; nay, not
even that, for if it were an image, it would be an image of the man
as he was when he was alive.
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