The Woodman: A Romance of the Times of Richard IIIJames, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
History
The Woodman: A Romance of the Times of Richard III
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
Great Britain -- History -- Richard III, 1483-1485 -- Fiction
"And a poor hand he did make," replied the woodman, in a cynical tone;
"for he was nowhere to be found; and I had to pull him out of the
buttery, to head the tenants. But I hear no more of rovers, lady,
unless it be the men at Coleshill, and King Richard's posts, planted
all along the highways, with twenty miles between each two, to look
out for Harry of Richmond."
"Posts!" said the abbess; "posts planted on the highway! What mean you
by posts?"
"Why men on horseback, lady mother," answered the woodman; "with sharp
spurs and strong steeds to bear to Dickon, our king that is, news of
Harry, our king that may be, if he chance to land any where upon the
coast."
"Now Heaven assoil us!" cried the abbess; "what more war, more war?
Will men never be content without deforming God's image in their
fellow creatures, and burning and destroying even the fairest works of
their own hands?"
"I fear not," answered the woodman, twisting round the broad axe that
was hung in his leathern belt. "Great children and small are fond of
bonfires; and nature and the devil between them made man a beast of
prey. As to what brought me hither, madam, it, was to tell you that
the wooden bridge in the forest wants repairing sadly. It would hardly
bear up your mule, lady, with nothing but yourself and your hawk upon
its back; much less a war-horse with a rider armed at point. As for my
coming so late, I have been as far as Tamworth this morning, to sell
the bavins, and didn't get back till after dark. So marking the bridge
by the way, and thinking it would be better to begin on it early in
the morning, I made bold to come up at night for fear anyone, riding
along to church or market or otherwise, should find their way into the
river, and say the abbess ought to mend her ways;" and he laughed at
his own joke.
While he had been speaking, both the young ladies, though he was no
stranger to them, had been gazing at him with considerable attention.
He was, as I have said before, a tall and still very powerful man,
although he seemed to have passed the age of fifty years. His
shoulders were very broad, his arms long and muscular; but his body
was small in proportion to the limbs, and the head in proportion to
the height of the whole figure. His forehead was exceedingly broad and
high, however; the crown of his head quite bald, with large masses of
curling hair falling round his temples and on his neck. What his
complexion originally had been, could not be discovered; for the
whiteness of his hair and eye-brows and the sun-burnt weather-beaten
hue of his skin afforded no indication. His teeth, however, were still
good, his eyes large and bright, and the features fine, although the
wide forehead was seamed with deep furrows, giving, apart from the
rest of his appearance, a look of much greater age than that at which
he had really arrived.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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