II

Indeed they had few of them much joy in that Castle where at first they had thought to have had great mirth. Only three days before Adam Swinburn, that had sworn to stand their friend, had ridden to a knoll near at hand and had asked to have speech with Sir Symonde Vesey, who was more his friend than the others. So Sir Symonde had gone to a little window that was near the ground in the tower called Constance, and from there had spoken with him. And Adam Swinburn had said that in no way could he any longer promise to aid them, for it was grown too dangerous. He preferred to rob upon the roads. And he counselled them very strongly to make a peace with the Young Lovell who was gathering many men, all the countryside being his friends, and had sworn to hang every man of them that was a leader from the White Tower, and to put his sisters into nunneries. And he said that John of Rokehope and James Cra’ster the younger, as well as Haggerston and Lame Cresswell, who desired to make their peace with King Henry, were all of like mind with him.

It was upon his homeward journey from saying this that Adam Swinburn had come upon the Princess Rohtraut and Bertram of Lyonesse.

All these people, Cra’ster, Haggerston, Lame Cresswell, Adam Swinburn, and others had, in the earlier days of their being at Castle Lovell, held high revel there with them. They were mostly rude and boisterous gentry of very good family who, having been ruined fighting for or against King Edward IV, King Richard or King Henry, were outlawed and lived by robbery, which was also the case with Sir Henry Vesey, of Wallhouses. And when those of the Castle had at first seemed to be triumphing these raiders had made great cause with them. They hoped that thus they might get their lands again of the King. So they had feasted there and drunk and slept in one tower or another along the walls, and had sworn to hold those towers if ever Castle Lovell was attacked.

But, by little and little, all of these gentry had wanted money, and of that those of that Castle had very little or none at all to give them. All the old Lord Lovell’s money was in the White Tower, and the bondsmen and other feudal debtors of Castle Lovell refused them their dues.

These things were very sore blows to those of the Castle. They had hoped that Richard Bek, the captain of the White Tower, would surrender that money to them so that they would have been able to give some of it to those boon companions. But Richard Bek would not even answer their summonses; and when they had begged the outlaws to aid them to take the White Tower, James Cra’ster had answered courteously for the rest that they would very willingly have done it had they had wings, but they were not gannets nor yet the angels of God, and so they could not. It was the same thing when those of the Castle asked the outlaws to ride down among the bondsmen that would not pay their rent-hens. None of them would do it.

For the truth of the matter was that Adam Swinburn and the rest were too good friends of Hugh Raket, Barty of the Comb, Corbit Jock, the Widow Taylor with her seven able sons, and the rest. They were the most capable rievers that they could find to ride under their leadership into Scotland or elsewhere. Even Sir Henry Vesey, of Wallhouses, had their aid and company at times.

For the matter of that, Sir Henry Vesey, of Wallhouses, was not so very eager to aid them of the Castle; as the time went on he grew less keen about it. For what they got out of it beyond the shelter of the stone walls he could not tell.

At the first his brother and Sir Walter Limousin had promised him his share of the plunder in the Castle and the money in the White Tower. But the plunder in the Castle had been a small matter. It was not much they had got for the armour sold to Morpeth, though he had taken some of the best pieces and sent them for safety to Wallhouses; they had got very little for such furnishings and carpets as they had sold to the German at Sunderland, and the jewels, as has been told, they could not sell at all.

They had the Castle, but in it not much more than two hundred men, which was little to hold so so great a place with. Thus they could not hold it, as castles are held, as a place from which to ride out and rob in the Borders; they could not spare the men.

So, when Adam Swinburn and the others understood how that case really was, they went, one after the other, away from the towers in the wall where they had slept with their men. They went with courtesy, saying that they would come again and defend those towers if there were need of it. But the truth of the matter was that all of the fresh meat was eaten, which is a thing very unbearable in summer; the best wine was all drunk, for they had pressed heavily on the liquors in the early days; they had tired of all the serving maids that there were in the Castle; the Lady Douce was occupied with Sir Henry Vesey; the Lady Isopel was ugly and a shrew. So they had neither desirable wine nor women; not much prospect of meat nor gold, and what else should keep them? Therefore they rode away.

Then those of the Castle sat down there to wait until Richard Bek, the captain of the White Tower, should surrender, so that they might take the gold. But that was a long matter. For Richard Bek and his men had at their command a great store of the best commodities that had belonged to the late lord. He had stored them in that strong place that was made for it. Sugar even they had and pepper and pippins, and the best wine and figs in honey. They of the Castle had not even fish for Fridays or none but salted cod. But they could see Richard Bek and his men catching fish from the sea with long lines. The water did not come up far enough to let those in the Castle catch fish even at high tides; but to the foot of the White Tower which was further out it came at all times, and the Lord Lovell, under the directions of the French castle-builder, had had the rocks there hollowed away so that a boat could ride there very comfortably when the weather was not too rough. Nevertheless, over that sort of boat-house a machicolation jutted out, so that the boats of any enemy could be swamped with great stones or set burning by means of Greek fire.

Thus those in the Castle could perceive those of the Tower receiving from the sea the carcases of sheep, goats, and small bullocks, so that those men lived very well and comfortably, and there seemed little reason for their ever rendering up that place which the Lord Lovell had built very cunningly for just such an occasion. Of wheat in the Castle they had a sufficient store, and also of salt meat and stock fish.

For two of the towers in the outer wall, that called Constance and that called de Insula, after the Bishop of that name, were nothing less than the one a wheat pit and the other a brine cistern. Those towers contained a chamber each, in the upper story, but all beneath it, to the ground, was windowless space. In the brine that filled thus the tower Constance there floated the carcases of two thousand sheep, one thousand swine, five hundred goats, and five hundred oxen.

Thus they had enough of that sort of food, and in addition they had a great quantity of peas in a barn. But of fresh meat they had none at all. When they wished for it they must send for beasts to Cullerford or Haltwhistle, and on the second occasion that they did this they lost fourteen steers and a quantity of sheep and goats. For, as their men drove these beasts along by the Roman Wall, in a very lonely spot, there came springing down upon them a great number of men well armed, but with their faces blacked. These killed two of the Castle Lovell men and drove away all their cattle through a gap in the Wall towards the North. Those in the Castle thought that this had been done by Haggerston and Lame Cresswell, who were fast friends, and by Barty of the Comb and his fellows. But they had no proof of this, so they could not even fyle a bill against them in the Warden’s Court. Moreover, three weeks before they had heard that a vessel was come to Hartlepool that had a number of cannon on board and more than she needed for her defence. These they desired to buy so as to try conclusions with the White Tower. They had with them at that season a Ridley of Willimoteswick as a guest. He was going by sea into Holland, and to this Ridley they confided the buying of such cannon as he could get for them from that ship as well as a great store of gunpowder, for this Ridley was a very honourable man and they could well trust him. So they gave him a hundred and fifty pounds. One or other of those knights might have gone on this errand, but by this time they were all grown very irritable and suspicious, and believed each of them that the others would work him some mischief if he went away even for a little time. For there they were kicking their heels in that fine summer weather, without comfort or occupation. They hardly dared to ride hunting without such a troop of men-at-arms as scared all the deer out of the woods, and at that season of the year they should have been riding into Scotland for their profit and to do feats of arms. Yet there they sat.

A week after that they had a letter from that Ridley of Willimoteswick to say that he had not bought their cannon and should not. For he had heard from his cousin Ridley, that was the monk Francis of Belford, how the Young Lovell was alive that they had sworn to him to be dead. Moreover, that lord had done no sorcery at all, but all that was false witnessing. Therefore Ridley of Willimoteswick counselled them very earnestly to give up that Castle to its rightful lord or he would never be their friend again. Moreover, he said that the monk Francis advised him that the hundred and fifty pounds they had given him for the purchase of cannon was no money of theirs but belonged of right to the Young Lovell. How that might be he did not know, but he was determined to buy them no cannon and to hold that money in his own hands until the rightful ownership should be determined.

Then those of the Castle cried out on the evil that there was in their world and time, and that there was neither faith nor truth in man. The heat blazed down upon them; the Castle stank, and now terror began to come into their souls so that the women wakening in the night or walking round the corners of the stony corridors would scream out suddenly. For on all hands they heard how the Young Lovell’s men resorted to him and how Richard Bek had sent him basketsful of gold from the White Tower, lowering them to boats that came on his behalf in the dawn. And knowing him as well as they did, they knew that he was a very fierce and cruel man to evil-doers and destroyers of order in his lands.

Then there came those letters from the Bishop and spread dismay amongst them, for the Lady Isopel had a great dread of priests and raised perpetual outcry in the Castle, asking that it should be given up to the Bishop. So they answered those letters as best they could. Then came other letters from the Earl of Northumberland in which he reded them very strongly to give up that Castle and sue for mercy. For, said the Earl, he must now withdraw from them all his countenance and he had written a broad letter to the King in his Council praying him to reverse the judgment that that Earl had given, on false witness brought before him, against the Young Lovell.

So, upon that, they sent for all the armed men they had from Cullerford and Haltwhistle and Wallhouses, and kept men continually on the walls in arms, for they could not tell at what moment the Young Lovell might not break in upon them like a raging wolf. And at last Sir Henry Vesey said that the moment was come for them to make the best terms that they could with their kinsman, and that if they would not he would get him gone from that Castle with all his men, for who could tell at what moment that lord might not burn down Wallhouses itself? Therefore they sent a letter to the Young Lovell at Cramlin Castle where they heard that he was, saying that if he would surrender to them half his mother’s lands and ten thousand pounds in gold they would give up to him that his Castle and go to live in their own houses and towers, and as for the Decies the Young Lovell might deal with him how he would.

To that letter no answer came and their messenger that bore it never came back. Fear fell still more upon them because of this silence, in which they seemed to read better than in any letter the menacing nature of their kinsman’s fell spirit. And at that time they began to talk of running each to his own home, and this they would have done but that they feared that in that way the Young Lovell would fall upon them the more easily, each one in his little tower. Moreover, their own men would by no means suffer this.

These men were of several minds. Some had been promised great sums of money to come into that Castle, and they would by no means let the Knights of Cullerford and Haltwhistle go unless they had their pay, but proposed to hold them prisoners there in the hope of receiving pay from the Young Lovell. Others thought that they could very well hold that strong Castle, beat off the Young Lovell and take the White Tower, if one of their number were elected their captain instead of these irresolute knights. Others desired to murder those knights and their ladies, and to take the jewels that they had and so to scatter about the country each to his own intent.

The men of Sir Henry Vesey were, however, faithful enough to him. He made the others pay them at least, though they could not pay their own, and even without it they would have been his very good servants, for he was always a fortunate commander in raids, being as cunning as a fox and very brave. So he knew himself to be very safe, and he assured the Lady Douce that she need have no fear, for his men would protect her as well as him. Of late he had thought much of the Lady Margaret Glororem in the way of love — more particularly when he had considered the Young Lovell to be dead. And indeed that lady had no hatred for him, since she considered him to be cunning and humorous and brave. And possibly she would have married him, for marry somebody a rich young maiden must, be her heart never so broken, in the North.

So, in that time, Sir Henry Vesey and the Lady Douce had quarrelled bitterly, for she was most jealous. But since the Young Lovell had come again they were once more friends.

So there they all sat and waited, the Knights of Cullerford and Haltwhistle riding out daily a little way to see what news they might get. They heard that there was a great gathering of Eures, Ridleys, Widdringtons and others at Glororem, and at the neighbouring Castle of Bamborough where the King’s captain gave them shelter. But of where the Young Lovell might be they could get no news; only they heard that he had left Cramlin, having with him nearly a hundred men.

Of when he would come against them they could not tell at all; they could not even tell whether their own men would fight for them. Only they thought they might; for the men of the North parts of those days were great fighters and would seldom miss an opportunity of a tulzie, unless there was a great football match to go to, and even for that generally they would contrive to leave off a fight for the time being, to resume it after the game was over. And they would do as much for a horse-race, though they preferred football, as being the more dangerous.