The Serf

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  THE SERF

  THE SERF

  By

  GUY THORNE

  _Author of "When It Was Dark" "A Lost Cause," etc., etc._

  Illustration

  R. F. FENNO & COMPANY 18 East 17th Street----New York

  GREENING & CO., LTD., London

  TO THE

  MEMBERS OF THE

  NATIONAL LIBERAL CLUB.

  CONTENTS.

  CHAP. PAGE.

  I. 1

  II. 25

  III. 52

  IV. 79

  V. 103

  VI. 128

  VII. 150

  VIII. 168

  IX. 189

  X. 205

  XI. 217

  XII. 230

  XIII. 242

  XIV. 250

  XV. 270

  XVI. 286

  XVII. 297

  THE SERF

  CHAPTER I

  "When Christ slept"

  _This is the history of a man who lived in misery and torture, and washeld as the very dirt of the world. In great travail of body and mind,in a state of bitter and sore distress, he lived his life. His death wasstern and pitiless, for they would have slain a dog more gently thanhe._

  _And yet, while his lords and masters survive only in a few oldchronicles of evil Latin, or perhaps you may see poor broken effigies ofthem in a very ancient church, the thoughts that Hyla thought still rundown time, and have their way with us now. They seared him with heat andscourged him with whips, and hung him high against the sunset from thebattlements of Outfangthef Tower, until his body fell in pieces to thefen dogs in the stable yards below. Yet the little misshapen man isworthy of a place in your hearts._

  _Geoffroi de la Bourne is unthought-of dust; Fulke, his son, claims fameby three lines in an old compte-book as a baron who enjoyed the rightof making silver coin. In the anarchy of King Stephen's reign he coinedmoney, using black metal--"moneta nigra"--with no small profit tohimself. So he has three lines in a chronicle._

  _Hyla, serf and thrall to him, has had never a word of record untilnow._

  _And yet Hyla, who inspired the village community--the first Radical onemight fancy him to be--was greater than Fulke or Geoffroi; and this isthe Story of his life. The human heart that beat in him is even as theheart of a good man now. It will be difficult to see any lovable thingsin this slave, who was a murderer, and whose life was so remote fromours. But, indeed, in regarding such a man, one must remember always hisenvironment. With a little exercise of thought you will see that he wasa lovable man, a small hero and untrumpeted, but worthy of a place in avery noble hierarchy._

  * * * * *

  A man sat in a roughly-constructed punt or raft, low down among therushes, one hot evening in June. The sun was setting in banks ofblood-red light, which turned all the innumerable water-ways and poolsof the fen from black to crimson. In the fierce light the tall reedsand grasses rose high into the air, like spears stained with blood.

  Although there was no wind to play among the rushes and give the reeds avoice, the air was full of sound, and an enormous life palpitated andmoved all round.

  The marsh frogs were barking to each other with small elfin voices, anddiving into the pools in play. There was a continual sucking sound, asthousands of great eels drew in the air with their heads just risingfrom the water. Now and again some heavy fish would leap out of thepools with a great noise, and the bitterns called to each other likecopper gongs.

  Very high in the air a few birds of the plover species wailed sadly totheir mates, grieving that day was over.

  These sounds of busy life were occasionally mingled with noises whichcame from the castle and village on the high grounds which bordered thefen on the south. Now and again the sound of hammers beating upon metalfloated over the water, showing that they were working in the armourer'sshop. A bell rang frequently, and some one was learning to blow callsupon a horn, for occasionally the clear, sweet notes abruptly changedinto a windy lowing, like a bull in pain.

  The man in the punt was busy catching eels with a pronged pole, tippedwith iron. He drove the pole through the water again and again till afish was transfixed, and added to the heap in the bottom of the boat. Hewas a short, thick-set fellow, with arms which were too long for hisbody, and huge hands and feet. No hair grew upon his face, which washeavy and without expression, though there was evidence of intelligencein the light green-grey eyes.

  Round his neck a thin ring of iron was soldered, and where the two endshad been joined together another and smaller ring had been fixed. He wasdressed in a coat of leather, black with age and dirt, but strong andsupple. This descended almost to his knees, and was caught in round themiddle by a leather strap, which was fastened with an iron pin.

  His arms were bare, and on one of them, just below the fore-arm, was ared circle the size of a penny, burnt into the flesh, and bearing somemarks arranged in a regular pattern.

  This was Hyla, one of the serfs belonging to Geoffroi de la Bourne,Baron of Hilgay, and the holder of lands near Mortain, in France.

  The absolute anarchy of the country in 1136,--the dark age in which thisstory of Hyla begins--secured to each petty baron an overwhelming power,and Geoffroi de la Bourne was king, in all but name, of the fens, hills,and corn-lands, from Thorney to Thetford, and the undoubted lord of theSouthfolk.

  For many miles the fens spread under the sky from Ely to King's Lynn,then but a few fisher huts. Hilgay itself rose up on an eminence towardsthe south of the Great Fen. At the bottom of the hill ran the wide riverOuse, and beyond it stretched the treacherous wastes.

  The Castle of Hilgay stood on the hill itself, and was surrounded by asmall village, built in the latter years of Henry's reign. It was one ofthe most modern buildings in East Anglia. Here, surrounded by hismen-at-arms, villeins, and serfs, Geoffroi de la Bourne lived secure,and kept the country-side in stern obedience. The Saxon Chronicle, whichat the time was being written in the Monastery of Peterborough, says ofhim: "He took all those he thought had any goods, both by night and day,men and women alike, and put them in prison to get their gold andsilver, and tortured them with tortures unspeakable."

  Of he and his kind it says: "Never yet was there such misery in theland; never did heathen men worse than they. Christ slept, and all Hissaints."

  Hyla had been spearing his eels in various backwaters and fen-poolswhich wound in and out from the great river. When his catch wassufficient, he laid down the trident, and, taking up the punt pole, setseriously about the business of return. The red lights of the sky turnedopal and grew dim as he sent his punt gliding swiftly in and out amongthe rushes.

  After several minutes of twisting and turning, the ditch widened into alarge, still pool, over which the flies were dancing, and beyond it wasthe black expanse of the river itself. As the boat swung out into themain stream, the castle came plain to the view. A well-beaten roadfringed with grass, among which bright gold
en kingcups were shining, ledup to the walls. Clustered round the walls was a little village ofsheds, huts, and houses, where the labourers and serfs who wereemployed on the farm-lands lived.

  The castle itself was a massive and imposing place, of great strengthand large area. At one corner of the keep stood a great tower, thehighest for many miles round, which was covered with a pointed roof oftiles, like that of a French chateau. This was known as the OutfangthefTower, and Geoffroi and his daughter, Lady Alice, had their privatechambers in it.

  There was something very stately in the view from the river, allirradiated as it was by the ruddy evening light.

  Hyla's punt glided over the still waters till it reached a well-builtlanding-stage of stone steps descending into the river. Several puntsand boats were tied up to mooring stakes. Hard by, the sewage from thecastle was carried down by a little brook, and the air all about thelanding-place was stagnant and foul.

  He moored the punt, and, stringing his eels upon an iron hook, carriedthem up the hill in the waning light. The very last lights of the daywere now expiring, and the scene was full of peace and rest, as nightthrew her cloak over the world. A rabbit ran across Hyla's path fromside to side of the road, a dusky flash; and, high up in the air, a birdsuddenly began to trill the night a welcome.

  The man walked slowly, lurching along with his head bent down, andseeing nothing of the evening time. About half-way up the hill he heardsomeone whistling a comic song, with which a wandering minstrel hadconvulsed the inmates of the castle a night or two before.

  Sitting by the roadside in the dusk, he could distinguish the figure ofPierce, one of the men-at-arms. He was oiling the trigger and barrel ofa crossbow, and polishing the steel parts with a soft skin. Theman-at-arms lived in the village with his wife, and was practically inthe position of a villein, holding some fields from Lord Geoffroi inreturn for military service. He was from Boulogne, and had been in thegarrison of one of Robert de Belleme's castles in Normandy.

  The lessons learnt at Tenchebrai had sunk deep into the mind of thisfellow; and when any dirty work was afoot or any foul deed to be done,to Pierce was given the doing of it. As Hyla approached, he stopped hiswhistling, and broke out into the words of the song, which, filthy andobscene as it was, had enormous popularity all over the countryside.

  Then he noticed the serf's approach. "Who are you?" he called out in a_patois_ of Norman-French and English, with the curious see-saw ofFrench accentuation in his voice.

  "Hyla!" came the answer, and there was strength and music in it.

  Something seemed to tickle the soldier to immediate merriment when heheard the identity of the man with the eels.

  Hyla knew him well. When he was free from his duties in the castle, Hylaand his wife worked in this man's fields for a loaf of wastel bread or achance rabbit, and he was in a sense their immediate employer andpatron.

  It was at the order of Pierce that Hyla had been fishing that evening.The soldier chuckled on, regarding the serf with obvious amusement,though for what reason _he_ could not imagine.

  "Show your catch," he said at last.

  He was shown the hook of great eels, some of which still writhed slowlyin torture.

  "Take them to my wife," said the soldier, "and take what you want ofthem for yourself and your people."

  "Very gladly," said Hyla, "for there are many mouths to fill."

  "Oh! that can be altered," said the soldier, with a grin; "your familycan be used in other ways, and live in other housen than under yourroof-tree."

  "Duke Christ forbid!" said Hyla, giving the Saviour the highest name heknew; "had I not my children and my wife, I should be poor indeed."

  "God's teeth!" cried the soldier, with a nasty snarl and complete changeof tone, "_your_ wife, _your_ girls! Man, man! we have been too good tothe serfs of late. See to this now, when I was in the train of my Lordde Belleme, both in France and here, we killed serfs like rabbits.

  "Well I remember, in the Welsh March, how we hanged men like you up bythe feet, and smoked them with foul smoke. Some were hanged up by theirthumbs, others by the head, and burning things were hung on to theirfeet. We put knotted strings about their heads, and writhed them tillthey went into the brain. We put men into prisons where adders, snakes,and toads were crawling, and so we tormented them. And the whiles wetook their wives and daughters for our own pleasure. Hear you that,Hyla, my friend? Get you off to my wife with the eels, you old dog."

  He blazed his bold eyes at the serf, and his swarthy face and coal-blackhair seemed bristling with anger and disdain. His face was deeply pittedwith marks which one of the numerous varieties of the plague had leftupon it, and as his white, strong teeth flashed in anger through thegloom, he looked, so Hyla thought, like the grinning devil-face of stonecarved over the servants' wicket at Icombe Abbey.

  He slunk away from the man-at-arms without a word, and toiled on up thehill. He fancied he could hear Pierce laughing down below him, and hespat upon the ground in impotent rage.

  He soon came to a few pasture fields on the outskirts of the village,some parts of them all silver-white with "lady-smocks." Hardy littlecows, goats, and sheep roamed in the meadows, which were enclosed withrough stone walls. A herd of pigs were wallowing in the mud which linedthe banks of the sewage stream, for, with their usual ignorance, thecastle architects allowed this to run right through the pastures on thehill slope.

  The cows were lowing uneasily to each other, for they were tormented byhosts of knats and marsh-begotten flies which rose up from the fenbelow.

  Past the fields the road widened out into a square of yellow,dust-powdered grass--the village green--and round this were set some ofthe principal houses.

  There was no room for comfortable dwelling-places inside the castleitself for the crowd of inferior officers and men-at-arms. Accordinglythey made their home in the village at its walls, and could retreat intosafety in times of war.

  Eustace, the head armourer, had a house here, the best in the village,roofed with shingle and built of solid timber. The men-at-arms, Pierceamong them, who were married, or lived with women taken in battle, hadtheir dwellings there; and one thatched Saxon house belonged to Lewin,the worker in metal, and chief of Baron Geoffroi's mint.

  Hyla was a labourer in the mint, and under the orders of Lewin the Jew.

  In 1133 it was established as a general truth and legal adage, by theJusticiar of England himself, that no subject might coin silver money.The adulteration practised in the baronial mints had reduced coins,which pretended to be of silver, into an alloy which was principallycomposed of a bastard copper. A few exceptions were made to the law, butall private mints were supposed to be under the direct superintendenceof crown officials. In the anarchy of Stephen's reign this rule becameinoperative, and many barons and bishops coined money for themselves.

  Few did this so completely and well as Geoffroi de la Bourne.

  When Bishop Roger of Salisbury made his son Chancellor of the Exchequer,in King Henry's reign, the chancellor had in his train a clever Jew boy,baptised by force, very skilful in the manual arts.

  It was the youth Lewin who invented the cloth, chequered like achess-board, which covered the table of the "Exchequer," and on whichmoney was counted out; and he also claimed that the "tallies" which weregiven in receipt for taxes to the county sheriffs were a product of hisfertile brain.

  This man, was always looked upon with suspicion by the many churchmenwith whom he came in contact. Finance was almost entirely in the handsof the great clergymen, and the servant Lewin was distrusted for hiscleverness and anti-Christian blood. At dinner many a worthy bishopwould urge the chancellor to dismiss him.

  The Jew was too shrewd not to feel their hostility and know theirdislike; and when he came across Geoffroi de la Bourne in the TowerRoyal, where Cheapside now stands, he was easily persuaded to enter hisservice.

  At Hilgay Castle he was at the head of a fine organisation ofmetal-workers, and under the direct protection of a powerful chief. Solawless wa
s the time that he could gratify the coarse passions of hisEastern blood to the full, and he counted few men, and certainly noother Jew in East England, more fortunately circumstanced than he was.

  A few villeins of the farmer class, who were also skilled men at arms,had rough houses in the village, and tilled the corn-fields and lookedafter the cattle. Beyond their dwellings, on the verge of the woods ofoak and beech which purpled the southern distance, were the huts of theserfs.

  Hyla passed slowly through the village. On the green, by a well whichstood in the centre, a group of light-haired Saxon women were chatteringover their household affairs. At the doors of some of the houses of theNorman men-at-arms sat French women on stools, rinsing pot herbs andscouring iron cooking bowls. Their black hair, prominent noses, andalert eyes contrasted favourably with the somewhat stupid faces of theSaxons, and there could be seen in them more than one sign of aconquering race.

  They were also more neatly dressed, and a coarse flax linen bound theirtemples in its whiteness, or lay about their throats.

  Stepping over a gutter full of evil-smelling refuse, Hyla came to thehouse of Pierce, and beat upon the wooden door, which hung upon hingesof leather made from bullock's hide.

  It swung open, and Adelais, the soldier's wife, named after the Duke ofBrabant's daughter, stood upon the threshold obedient to the summons.

  She took the eels from him without a word, and began to unhook them.

  "Pierce said that I might have some fish to take home," Hyla told herhumbly.

  "You may take your belly full," she answered; "it's little enough I likethe river worms, for that is all they are. My man likes them as littleas I."

  "It was he that sent me a-fishing," said Hyla in surprise.

  "Then he had a due reason," said the woman; "but get you home, theevening is spent, and the night comes."

  Just then, from the castle above their heads, which towered up into thestill warm air, came the mellow sound of a horn, and following upon itthe deep tolling of a bell ringing the curfew.

  Although the evening bell did not ring at that time with any legalsignificance as it did in towns, its sound was generally a signal forsleep; and as the brazen notes floated above them, the groups at thedoors and on the green broke up and dispersed.

  "Sleep well, Hyla!" Adelais said kindly, and, retiring into the house,she shut her door.

  Hyla went on till he came opposite the great gate of the castle, andcould hear the guards being changed on the other side of the drawbridge.

  He was now on the very brow of the hill, and, stopping for a moment,looked right down over the road he had traversed. The moon was justrising, and the road was all white in its light. Far beyond, the vastfens were a sea of white mist, and the blue will-o'-the-wisp wasbeginning to bob and pirouette among it. The air of the village wasfull of the sweet pungent smell of the blue wood smoke.

  The night was full of peace and sweetness, and, as the last throbbingnote of the curfew bell died away, it would have been difficult to finda gentler, mellower place.

  Thin lines of lights, like jewels in velvet, began to twinkle out in theblack walls of the castle as he turned towards the place of the serfs.He went down a lane fringed with beeches, and emerged upon the openglade. A fire was burning in the centre, and dark forms were flittinground it cooking the evening meals. Dogs were barking, and there was acontinual hum and clatter of life.

  Picture for yourself an oblong space surrounded by heavy trees, theouter boles being striped clear of bark, and many of them remaining butdead stumps.

  Round the arena stood forty or fifty huts of wood, wattled with oziersand thatched with fern and dried rushes.

  Many of the huts were built round a tree trunk, and the pole in themiddle served to hang skins and implements upon by means of wooden pegsdriven into it.

  A hole in the roof let out smoke, and in the walls let in the light.The floors of these huts were of hard-beaten earth, as durable as stone;but they were littered with old bones, dust, and dried rushes forseveral inches deep, and swarming with animal life.

  They were the merest shelters, and served only for sleep. Most of thehousehold business was conducted in the open before the huts, and infine weather the fires were nearly all outside. In winter time the serfwomen and girls generally suffered from an irritating soreness of theeyes, which was produced by living in the acrid smoke which filled theshelters and escaped but slowly through the roofs.

  The household utensils were few and simple. A large wooden bucket, whichwas carried on a pole between two women, served to fetch water from thewell upon the village green, for the serfs had no watering-place intheir own enclosure. An earthenware pot or so--very liable to break andcrack, as it was baked from the black and porous fen clay--and an ironcooking pot, often the common property of two or more families,comprised the household goods.

  They slept in the back part of the huts, men, women, and childrentogether, on dried fern, or with, perhaps, an old and filthy sheep'sskin for cover. The sleeping-room was called the "bower."

  This enclosure where the theows lived was known as the "fold," as it wasfenced in from the forest, on which it abutted, by felled trees. Thiswas done for protection against wild beasts. Herds of wild and savagewhite cattle, such as may now only be seen at Chillingham, roamedthrough the wood. Savage boars lived on the forest acorns, and wouldattack an unarmed man at sight. Wolves abounded in the depths of theforest. It often happened that some little serf child wandered away, andwas never seen again, and it was useless for a thrall to attempt escapeinto its mysterious depths.

  For the most part only married serfs lived in the fold or "stoke," as itwas sometimes called. Many of the younger men were employed as groomsand water-carriers in the castle, or slept and lived in sheds and cattlehouses belonging to the men-at-arms and farmers in the village.

  It was thus that the serfs lived, and Hyla skirted the fold till he cameto his own house. He was very tired and hungry, and eager for a mealbefore sleeping.

  All the morning he had laboured, sweating by the glowing fires of themint, pouring molten metal into the moulds. At mid-day the steward hadgiven him a vessel of spoilt black barley for his wife to bake bread,and he had taken it home to her and his two daughters against hisreturn.

  In the afternoon Hyla and his two daughters, Frija and Elgifu, girls oftwenty and nineteen, had been at work dunging the fields of Pierce theman-at-arms, and the evening had been spent, as we have seen, inspearing eels.

  Hyla was very weary and hungry. When he came up to his hut he sawangrily that the fire in front of it was nothing but dead embers, and,indeed, was long since cold. His two little sons, who were generallytumbling about naked by the hut, were not there, nor could he see Gruachhis wife.

  He flung down the eels in a temper, and called aloud, in his strongvoice, "Frija! Elgifu! Gruach!"

  His cries brought no response, and he turned towards the fire in thecentre of the stoke which was now but a red glow, and round whichvarious people were sitting eating their evening meal.

  He burst into the circle. "Where is Gruach?" he said to a young man whowas dipping his hand into an earthen pot held between his knees.

  This was Harl, an armourer's rivetter, who generally lived within thecastle walls.

  "Gruach is at the hut of Cerdic," he said, with some embarrassment, and,so it seemed to Hyla, with pity in his voice.

  The men and women sitting by the fire turned their faces towards himwithout exception, and their faces bore the same expression as Harl's.

  Hyla stared stupidly from one to the other. His eyes fell upon Cerdichimself, a kennel serf, and something of a veterinary surgeon. It was hewho cut off two toes from each dog used for droving, so that they shouldnot hunt the deer.

  Fastened to his girdle was the ring through which the feet of the"lawed" dogs were passed, and he carried his operating knife in a sheathat his side.

  "My woman is in your hut, Cerdic," said Hyla, "and why is she with?"

  "She is with," said Cerd
ic, "because she is in sore trouble, and walksin fear of worse. Go you to her, Hyla, and hear her words, and thencome you here again to me."

  A deep sigh burst from all of them as Cerdic spoke, and one woman fellcrying.

  Hyla turned, and strode hastily to Cerdic's hut. He heard a low moaningcoming from it, which rose and fell unceasingly, and was broken in uponby a woman's voice cooing kind words of comfort.

  He pushed into the hut. It was quite dark and full of foetid smoke anda most evil odour.

  "Gruach," he said, "Gruach! why are you not home? What hurts you?"

  The moaning stopped, and there was a sound of some one rising.

  Then a voice, which Hyla recognised as belonging to Cerdic's wife, said,"Here is your man, Gruach! Rise and tell him what bitter things havebeen afoot."

  Gruach rose, a tall woman of middle age, and came out of the hut intothe twilight.

  "Hyla!" she said, "Saints help you and me, for they have taken Elgifuand Frija to the castle."

  The man quivered all over as if he would have fallen on the ground. Thenhe gripped his wife's arm. "Tell me," he said hoarsely, "To the castle?to the castle? Frija and Elgifu?"

  "Aye, your maids and mine, and maids no longer. I had gone to Adelais toseek food for this night, and found you sent a-fishing. Frija and Elgifuwere carrying the dung to the fields. Pierce was in the field speakingto our girls. Then came Huber and John from the castle with their pikes,and they took away our daughters, saying Lord Geoffroi and Lord Fulkehad sent for them. Huber struck me in the face at my crying. 'Takecare!' cwaeth he, 'old women are easily flogged; there is little valuein you.' And I saw them holding my girls, and they took them in thegreat gate of the castle laughing, and I did not see them again."

  Hyla said nothing for a minute, but remained still and motionless. Theblow struck him too hard for speech.

  "Get you home," he said at length, "if perchance you may fall asleep. Iam going to talk with Cerdic. Take her home, wife, and God rest you foryour comfort!"

  He walked quickly across the open space back to the fire. The circle wasbroken up, and only Cerdic and Harl sat there waiting Hyla's return.

  Stuck into the ground was a cow's horn full of ale, and as Hyla cameinto the circle of dim red light, Harl handed it to him.

  He drank deep, and drank again till the comfort of the liquor filled hiscraving stomach, and his brain grew clearer.

  "Sit here, friend," said Cerdic. "This is a foul thing that has beendone."