University of Virginia Library

25. CHAPTER XXV.
THE FALSE CHARGE AND THE TRUE.

So soon as the court was opened on the following morning,
to the astonishment of all parties, and to that of no one, as it
would seem, more than of the grand justiciary himself, Kenric
was again introduced; but this time heavily ironed, and
in the charge of two ordinary constables of the hundred.

“Ha! what is this?” asked Ranulf de Glanville, sharply.
“For what is this man brought here again in this guise?
Judgment was rendered in his case, last night; and I would
have all men to know, that from this court there is no appeal.
Or is there some new charge against him?”

“In some sort, a new charge, my lord,” replied the clerk
of the court; he was arrested last night, the moment he had
left this court, on the complaint of Ralph Brito, next of kin
to the deceased, for the murder of Ralph Wetheral, the seneschal

of Waltheofstow, at the time and in the place, which
your lordship wots of, having heard all about it, in the case
decided yesterday de nativo habendo!”

“Now, by my halidom!” said Glanville, the fire flashing
to his dark eyes, “this is wonderful insolence and outrecuidance
on the part of Master Ralph Brito, who is himself, or
should be, under arrest for perjury—”

“So, please you, he hath entered bail for his appearance,
and is discharged of custody.”

“Who is his bondsman, and in what bail is he held?”

“So please you, in a hundred marks of silver. Sir Foulke
d'Oilly is his bondsman.”

“The bail is well enough; the bondsman is not sufficient.
Let the proper officer attach the body of Ralph Brito.
Upon my life! he has the impudence to brave us here, in
court.”

“Who? I not sufficient,” cried Sir Foulke d'Oilly, fiercely,
rising to his feet, as if to defy the court. “I not sufficient
for a paltry bail of a hundred marks of silver? I would have
you to know, Sir Ranulf—”

“And I would have you to know, sir,” thundered the high
justiciary, “that this is `the King's court,' in the precinets
of which you have dared to make your voice be heard; and
that I, humble as I am, stand here in loco regis, and will be
treated with the reverence due to my master. For the rest,
I will speak with you anon, when I shall have dealt with this
case now before me, which seems one of shameful persecution
and oppression.

Sir Foulke d'Oilly had remained on his feet during the time
the justiciary was speaking; and now, turning his eye to his

barons and the knights of his train, who took the cue, and
rose silently, he began to move toward the door.

“Ha! is it so? Close up, halberdiers; guard the doors!
Pursuivants, do your duty. Sheriff of Lancaster, have you a
guard at hand to protect the court?”

“Surely, my lord,” replied Sir Yvo de Taillebois. “Withut,
there! pass the word to the proper officer, that he turn
out the guard.”

In a moment, the call of the bugles of the archery was
heard, and was shortly succeeded by the heavy, ordered march
of infantry, closing up to the doors, while the cavalry-trumpets
rang through the narrow streets of the old city, and the clash
of mail-coats and the tramp of chargers told that the men-at-arms
were falling in, in great numbers.

Meanwhile, two of the pursuivants, in waiting on Clarencieux,
had made their way to Sir Foulke d'Oilly, and whispered
something in his ear, which, whatever it was, made him
turn as pale as death, and sink down into his seat, without
saying a word, while the pursuivants remained standing at his
back. The nobles and knights of his train looked at him, and
looked at one another, with troubled glances; but, finding no
solution to their doubts or answer to their question, seated
themselves in sullen discontent.

The multitude which filled the court-house, meantime, was
in the wildest state of confusion and consternation; the call
for the military force had struck terror into all, especially the
feebler part of the crowd, the aged persons and women, many
of whom were present; for none knew, in those stormy times,
how soon swords might be drawn in the court itself, or the

hall cleared by a volley of cloth-yard arrows from the sheriff's
Kendal archers.

After a while, however, by the exertions of the proper
officers, order was restored; and then, as if nothing had occurred
to interrupt the thread of his thoughts, De Glanville
continued in the matter of Kenric, who still waited in custody
of the sheriff's officers.

“Be there any other charges against this man, Kenric, beside
this one of murder?”

“One of deer-killing, my lord, against the statute, in the
forest court, at the same time, and in the same place, as stated
yesterday.”

“And on the same evidence, doubtless, on which the jury
pronounced yesterday. In fact, there can be no other. In
the last charge, who is the prosecutor?”

“Sir Foulke d'Oilly, my lord.”

“Ah! Sir Foulke d'Oilly! Sir Foulke d'Oilly!” cried Sir
Ranulf, looking lightnings at him, and then turning to the
clerk. “Well, sir. This matter is not as yet in the province
of this court. Let it go to the grand jury now in session,
and see that they have copies of the warrants, and full minutes
of all the evidence rendered in the case de nativo, and of the
jury's finding, that they may have the power to judge if these
charges be not purely malicious.”

A solemn pause followed, full of grave expectation, while
the officers were removing Kenric from the hall, and while
the high-justiciary, his assessors on the bench, the high-constable,
the earl mareschal, and the sheriff of the county
were engaged in close consultation.

At the end of this conference, the high-sheriff formally

appointed Sir Hugo le Norman to be his deputy, with full
powers, by the consent of the court, invested him with his
chain and staff of office, and, shortly afterward, appeared in
his private capacity, in the body of the hall; and it was now
observed, which had not been noticed while he wore his robes
of his office, that he carried his right arm in a sling, and
halted considerably in his gait, as if from a recent injury.

“Stand forward, now, Sir Foulke d'Oilly,” exclaimed the
justiciary. “Crier, call Sir Foulke d'Oilly into court.”

Then, as the knight made his appearance at the bar, followed
by the two pursuivants—

“Now, Sir Foulke d'Oilly,” he proceeded, “what have you
to say, why you stand not committed to answer for the murder
of Sir Philip de Morville, and his esquire, Jehan de Morville,
basely and treacherously by you and others unknown,
on them, done and committed, in the forest of Sherwood, by
the river of Idle, in the shire of Nottingham, on the sixth day
of August last passed, as charged on good and sufficient evidence
against you?”

“By whom is the charge put in?” inquired the felon
knight, who, now that he was certain of the worst, had mustered
all his ruffian courage to his aid, and was ready to bear
down all opposition by sheer brute force and determination.

“By Sir Yvo de Taillebois, Lord of High Yewdale, Hawkshead,
Coniston, and Kendal, and High-Sheriff of this shire of
Lancaster.”

“The Knight of Taillebois,” retorted the other, “can put in
no such charge, seeing that he is not of the blood of the man
alleged to be murdered.”

“Ha! how say you to that, Sir Yvo de Taillebois?”

“I say, my lord,” replied De Taillebois, “that in this, as in
all else, Sir Foulke d'Oilly lies in his teeth and in his throat;
and that I am of the blood of Sir Philip de Morville, by him
most foully and most treacherously murdered. May it please
you, my lord, call Clarencieux, king-at-arms.”

“Ho! Clarencieux, what knowest thou of this kindred of
these houses?”

“We find, my lord,” replied Clarencieux, “that in the reign
of Duke Robert, father of King William the Conqueror, Raoul,
Count of Evreux, in the Calvados, gave his daughter Sybilla
in wedlock to Amelot, Lord of Taillebois, in the Beauvoisis.
The son of this Raoul of Evreux was Stephen, invested with
the fief of Morville, in Morbihan, who fought at Hastings, and
for good service rendered there and elsewhere, received the
fief of Waltheofstow in Sherwood. The son of Amelot of
Taillebois and Sybilla was Yvo de Taillebois, the elder, who
fought likewise at Hastings, and for good service performed
there and elsewhere was enfeoffed of the lordships of Coniston
and Yewdale; as his son became seized, afterward, of those of
Hawkshead and Kendal, in right of his mother, sister and
sole heiress of the Earls Morear and Edwin, and wife of Yvo
de Taillebois, first Norman Lord of Kendal. Therefore, this
Stephen de Morville, first Norman lord of Waltheofstow, was
maternal uncle to Yvo de Taillebois, first Norman lord of
Coniston and Yewdale. Now, Philip de Morville, deceased,
was fourth in descent, in the direct male line, from Stephen,
who fought at Hastings; and Yvo de Taillebois, here present,
is third in descent, in the direct male line, from the elder
Yvo, the nephew of Stephen, who also fought at Hastings;
as is set down in this parchment roll, which no man can

gainsay. Therefore, Sir Yvo de Taillebois is of the blood of
Sir Philip de Morville, deceased; and is competent to put in a
charge of the murder of his kinsman.

“On what evidence does he charge me?”

“On that of an eye-witness,” exclaimed Sir Yvo de Taillebois.
“Let them call Eadwulf the Red.”

“A fugitive serf, deer-slayer, and murderer!” cried Sir
Foulke d'Oilly.

“But under the king's safe conduct, here in court,” said Sir
Ranulf, “and under proclamation of liberty and free pardon
of all offenses, if by his evidence conviction be procured of the
doers of this most foul murder.”

Then Eadwulf was produced in court, miserably emaciated
and half-starved, but resolute of mien and demeanor, and
obstinate as ever. He had been discovered, by mere chance,
in a cavern among the hills, half-frozen, and more than half-starved,
by the foresters of High Yewdale, who had been
instructed to keep a lookout for him; and, having been
with difficulty resuscitated, and made acquainted with the
tenor of the king's proclamation, had been forwarded, in
a litter, by relays of horses, in order to give evidence to the
murder.

But, as it proved, his evidence was not needed; for, so
soon as he saw him in court, Sir Foulke d'Oilly pleaded not
guilty, flung down his glove, and declared himself ready to
defend his innocence with his body.

“The matter is out of my jurisdiction,” said Sir Ranulf de
Glanville. “My Lord High Constable, and you, Earl Mareschal
of England, it is before your Court of Chivalry.”

“Sir Yvo de Taillebois is the appellant,” said the high-constable.

“Do you take up the glove, and are you ready in
like manner to defend your charge with your body?”

“I am ready, with my own body, or with that of my
champion; for, unless the wager of battle be deferred these
two months, I may not brook the weight of my armor,
or wield a sword, as my leech has herein on oath testified;”
and, with the words, he handed a scroll to the court.

“Thou hast the right to appear by thy champion. To
defer the trial were unseemly,” said the constable, after a
moment's consultation with the mareschal. “Take up his
glove, Sir Yvo de Taillebois.”

De Taillebois took it up; and both parties being called
upon to produce their pledges, Sir Yvo de Taillebois gave
Lord Dacre and Sir Hugo le Norman, and Sir Foulke d'Oilly,
Sir Reginald Maltravers and Sir Humphrey Bigod, who
became their godfathers, as it is termed, for the battle.
Whereupon, Sir Humphrey de Bohun, the high-constable,
thus spoke, and the herald, following his words, made proclamation—

“Hear ye, Sir Yvo de Taillebois and Sir Foulke d'Oilly,
appellant and appellee; ye shall present yourselves, you Sir
Yvo de Taillebois, appellant, in your own person, or by your
champion, to be by this court approved, and you, Sir Foulke
d'Oilly, appellee, in your person, in the tilt-yard of this Castle
of Lancaster, at ten o'clock of the morning of the third day
hereafter, to do battle to the uttermost on this quarrel. And
the terms of battle shall be these—on foot, shall ye fight; on
a spot of dry and even ground, sixty paces in length, and
forty in breadth, inclosed with barriers seven feet high, with
no one within them, to aid or abet you, save God and your

own prowess. Your weapons shall be a long sword and a
short sword, and a dagger; but your arms defensive may be at
your own will; and ye shall fight until one of you be
slain, or shall have yielded, or until the stars be seen in
heaven. And the conditions of the battle are these; if the
appellee slay the appellant, or force him to cry `craven,' or
make good his defense until the stars be seen in heaven, then
shall he, the appellee, be acquitted of the murder. But if the
appellant slay the appellee, or force him to cry `craven,' or if
the appellee refuse to continue the fight, then shall he, the
appellee, be held convicted of the murder. And whosoever
of the two shall be slain, or shall cry `craven,' or shall refuse
to continue the fight, shall be stripped of his armor, where he
lies, and shall be dragged by horses out of the lists, by a passage
made in one of the angles, and shall be hanged, in the
presence of the mareschal; and his escutcheon shall be reversed,
and his name shall be declared infamous forever. This
is the sentence of this court, therefore—that on the third day
hence, ye do meet in the tilt-yard of this Castle of Lancaster,
at ten o'clock of the morning, and there do battle, in this
quarrel, to the uttermost. And so may God defend the
right!”

Before the court adjourned, a messenger came into the hall
from the grand jury, and Kenric was re-conducted into the
presence, still ironed, and in custody of the officers.

Sir Ranulf de Glanville opened the parchment scroll, and
read aloud, as follows—

“Why, of course not,” said Ranulf de Glanville. Not a
shadow of a cause. Strike off those irons. He stands discharged,
in all innocence and honor. Go thy ways, sirrah,
and keep clear of the law, I counsel you, in future; and, for
this time, thank God and the laws of your country, that you
are a freeman, in a whole skin, this evening.”

“I do thank God, and you, Sir Ranulf, that you have
given me a fair trial and free justice.”

“God forbid, else, man! God forbid, else!” said the justiciary;
“and now, this court stands adjourned until to-morrow,
in the morning, at six of the clock. Heralds, make
proclamation; God save the King!”