| Men of Iron|
|by Howard Pyle|
|The thrilling story, set in England in the time of Henry IV, of how Myles Falworth advances to knighthood and through 'trial by battle' restores the fallen fortunes of his family. With breathless excitement, the reader follows the adventures of the hero, sympathizing with him in his troubles, fighting in his battles, and rejoicing in his good fortunes. Numerous illustrations by the author add to the attractiveness of the volume. Ages 10-14 |
A DAGGER FOR GASCOYNE
 THE EARL of Mackworth, as was customary among the great lords in those days, maintained a small army of knights,
gentlemen, men-at-arms, and retainers, who were expected to serve him upon all occasions of need, and from
whom were supplied his quota of recruits to fill such levies as might be made upon him by the King in time of
The knights and gentlemen of this little army of horse and foot soldiers were largely recruited from the
company of squires and bachelors, as the young novitiate soldiers of the castle were called.
This company of esquires consisted of from eighty to ninety lads, ranging in age from eight to twenty years.
Those under fourteen years were termed pages, and served chiefly the Countess and
 her waiting gentlewomen, in whose company they acquired the graces and polish of the times, such as they were.
After reaching the age of fourteen the lads were entitled to the name of esquire or squire.
In most of the great houses of the time the esquires were the especial attendants upon the Lord and Lady of
the house, holding such positions as body-squires, cup-bearers, carvers, and sometimes the office of
chamberlain. But Devlen, like some other of the princely castles of the greatest nobles, was more like a
military post or a fortress than an ordinary household. Only comparatively few of the esquires could be used
in personal attendance upon the Earl; the others were trained more strictly in arms, and served rather in the
capacity of a sort of body-guard than as ordinary squires. For, as the Earl rose in power and influence, and
as it so became well worth while for the lower nobility and gentry to enter their sons in his family, the body
of squires became almost cumbersomely large. Accordingly, that part which comprised the squires proper, as
separate from the younger pages, was divided into three classes—first, squires of the body, who were
those just past pagehood, and who waited upon the Earl in personal service; second, squires of the household,
 who, having regular hours assigned for exercise in the manual of arms, were relieved from personal service
excepting upon especial occasions; and thirdly and lastly, at the head of the whole body of lads, a class
called bachelors—young men ranging from eighteen to twenty years of age. This class was supposed to
exercise a sort of government over the other and younger squires—to keep them in order as much as
possible, to marshal them upon occasions of importance, to see that their arms and equipments were kept in
good order, to call the roll for chapel in the morning, and to see that those not upon duty in the house were
present at the daily exercise at arms. Orders to the squires were generally transmitted through the bachelors,
and the head of that body was expected to make weekly reports of affairs in their quarters to the chief
captain of the body.
From this overlordship of the bachelors there had gradually risen a system of fagging, such as is or was
practised in the great English public schools—enforced services exacted from the younger
lads—which at the time Myles came to Devlen had, in the five or six years it had been in practice, grown
to be an absolute though unwritten law of the body—a law supported by all the prestige of long-continued
usage. At that time the
 bachelors numbered but thirteen, yet they exercised over the rest of the sixty-four squires and pages a rule
of iron, and were taskmasters, hard, exacting, and oftentimes cruel.
The whole company of squires and pages was under the supreme command of a certain one-eyed knight, by name Sir
James Lee; a soldier seasoned by the fire of a dozen battles, bearing a score of wounds won in fight and
tourney, and withered by hardship and labor to a leather-like toughness. He had fought upon the King's side in
all the late wars, and had at Shrewsbury received a wound that unfitted him for active service, so that now he
was fallen to the post of Captain of Esquires at Devlen Castle—a man disappointed in life, and with a
temper imbittered by that failure as well as by cankering pain.
Yet perhaps no one could have been better fitted for the place he held than Sir James Lee. The lads under his
charge were a rude, rough, unruly set, quick, like their elders, to quarrel, and to quarrel fiercely, even to
the drawing of sword or dagger. But there was a cold, iron sternness about the grim old man that quelled them,
as the trainer with a lash of steel might quell a den of young wolves. The apartments in which he was lodged,
with his clerk, were next in the dormitory of the
 lads, and even in the midst of the most excited brawlings the distant sound of his harsh voice, "Silence,
messieurs!" would bring an instant hush to the loudest uproar.
It was into his grim presence that Myles was introduced by Gascoyne. Sir James was in his office, a room bare
of ornament or adornment or superfluous comfort of any sort—without even so much as a mat of rushes upon
the cold stone pavement to make it less cheerless. The old one-eyed knight sat gnawing his bristling
mustaches. To anyone who knew him it would have been apparent that, as the castle phrase went, "the devil sat
astride of his neck," which meant that some one of his blind wounds was aching more sorely than usual.
His clerk sat beside him, with account-books and parchment spread upon the table, and the head squire, Walter
Blunt, a lad some three or four years older than Myles, and half a head taller, black-browed, powerfully
built, and with cheek and chin darkened by the soft budding of his adolescent beard, stood making his report.
Sir James listened in grim silence while Gascoyne told his errand.
"So, then, pardee, I am bid to take another one of ye, am I?" he snarled. "As though ye caused me
 not trouble enow; and this one a cub, looking a very boor in carriage and breeding. Mayhap the Earl thinketh I
am to train boys to his dilly-dally household service as well as to use of arms."
"Sir," said Gascoyne, timidly, "my Lord sayeth he would have this one entered direct as a squire of the body,
so that he need not serve in the household."
"Sayest so?" cried Sir James, harshly. "Then take thou my message back again to thy Lord. Not for
Mackworth—no, nor a better man than he—will I make any changes in my government. An I be set to
rule a pack of boys, I will rule them as I list, and not according to any man's bidding. Tell him, sirrah,
that I will enter no lad as squire of the body without first testing an he be fit at arms to hold that place."
He sat for a while glowering at Myles and gnawing his mustaches, and for the time no one dared to break the
grim silence. "What is thy name?" said he, suddenly. And then, almost before Myles could answer, he asked the
head squire whether he could find a place to lodge him.
"There is Gillis Whitlock's cot empty," said Blunt. "He is in the infirmary, and belike goeth home again when
he cometh thence. The fever hath gotten into his bones, and—"
 "That will do," said the knight, interrupting him impatiently. "Let him take that place, or any other that
thou hast. And thou, Jerome," said he to his clerk, "thou mayst enter him upon the roll, though whether it be
as page or squire or bachelor shall be as I please, and not as Mackworth biddeth me. Now get ye gone."
"Old Bruin's wound smarteth him sore," Gascoyne observed, as the two lads walked across the armory court. He
had good-naturedly offered to show the new-comer the many sights of interest around the castle, and in the
hour or so of ramble that followed, the two grew from acquaintances to friends with a quickness that boyhood
alone can bring about. They visited the armory, the chapel, the stables, the great hall, the Painted Chamber,
the guard-house, the mess-room, and even the scullery and the kitchen, with its great range of boilers and
furnaces and ovens. Last of all Myles's new friend introduced him to the armor-smithy.
"My Lord hath sent a piece of Milan armor thither to be repaired," said he. "Belike thou would like to see
"Aye," said Myles, eagerly, "that would I."
The smith was a gruff, good-natured fellow, and showed the piece of armor to Myles readily and willingly
enough. It was a beautiful bascinet of
 inlaid workmanship, and was edged with a rim of gold. Myles scarcely dared touch it; he gazed at it with an
unconcealed delight that warmed the smith's honest heart.
"I have another piece of Milan here," said he. "Did I ever show thee my dagger, Master Gascoyne?"
"Nay," said the squire.
The smith unlocked a great oaken chest in the corner of the shop, lifted the lid, and brought thence a
beautiful dagger with the handle of ebony and silver-gilt, and a sheath of Spanish leather, embossed and gilt.
The keen, well-tempered blade was beautifully engraved and inlaid with niello-work, representing a group of
figures in a then popular subject—the dance of Death. It was a weapon at once unique and beautiful, and
even Gascoyne showed an admiration scarcely less keen than Myles's openly-expressed delight.
"To whom doth it belong?" said he, trying the point upon his thumb nail.
"There," said the smith, "is the jest of the whole, for it belongeth to me. Sir William Beauclerk bade me
order the weapon through Master Gildersworthy, of London town, and by the time it came hither, lo! he had
died, and so it fell to my
 hands. No one here payeth the price for the trinket, and so I must e'en keep it myself, though I be but a poor
"How much dost thou hold it for?" said Gascoyne.
"Seventeen shillings buyeth it," said the armorer, carelessly.
"Aye, aye," said Gascoyne, with a sigh; "so it is to be poor, and not be able to have such things as one
loveth and would fain possess. Seventeen shillings is nigh as much by half again as all my yearly wage."
Then a sudden thought came to Myles, and as it came his cheeks glowed as hot as fire "Master Gascoyne," said
he, with gruff awkwardness, "thou hast been a very good, true friend to me since I have come to this place,
and hast befriended me in all ways thou mightest do, and I, as well I know, but a poor rustic clod. Now I have
forty shillings by me which I may spend as I list, and so I do beseech thee that thou wilt take yon dagger of
me as a love-gift, and have and hold it for thy very own."
Gascoyne stared open-mouthed at Myles. "Dost mean it?" said he, at last.
"Aye," said Myles, "I do mean it. Master Smith, give him the blade."
 At first the smith grinned, thinking it all a jest; but he soon saw that Myles was serious enough, and when
the seventeen shillings were produced and counted down upon the anvil, he took off his cap and made Myles a
low bow as he swept them into his pouch. "Now, by my faith and troth," quoth he, "that I do call a true lordly
gift. Is it not so, Master Gascoyne?"
"Aye," said Gascoyne, with a gulp, "it is, in soothly earnest." And thereupon, to Myles's great wonderment, he
suddenly flung his arms about his neck, and, giving him a great hug, kissed him upon the cheek. "Dear Myles,"
said he, "I tell thee truly and of a verity I did feel warm towards thee from the very first time I saw thee
sitting like a poor oaf upon the bench up yonder in the anteroom, and now of a sooth I give thee assurance
that I do love thee as my own brother. Yea, I will take the dagger, and will stand by thee as a true friend
from this time forth. Mayhap thou mayst need a true friend in this place ere thou livest long with us, for
some of us esquires be soothly rough, and knocks are more plenty here than broad pennies, so that one new come
is like to have a hard time gaining a footing."
"I thank thee," said Myles, "for thy offer of love and friendship, and do tell thee, upon my part,
 that I also of all the world would like best to have thee for my friend."
Such was the manner In which Myles formed the first great friendship of his life, a friendship that was
destined to last him through many years to come. As the two walked back across the great quadrangle, upon
which fronted the main buildings of the castle, their arms were wound across one another's shoulders, after
the manner, as a certain great writer says, of boys and lovers.
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