MEN OF IRON(铁人)

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MEN OF IRON

by Ernie Howard Pyle

MEN OF IRON

INTRODUCTION

The year 1400 opened with more than usual peacefulness in England.

Only a few months before, Richard II--weak, wicked, and treacherous --

had been dethroned, and Henry IV declared King in his stead. But it was

only a seeming peacefulness, lasting but for a little while; for though King

Henry proved himself a just and a merciful man--as justice and mercy

went with the men of iron of those days--and though he did not care to

shed blood needlessly, there were many noble families who had been

benefited by King Richard during his reign, and who had lost somewhat of

their power and prestige from the coming in of the new King.

Among these were a number of great lords--the Dukes of Albemarle,

Surrey, and Exeter, the Marquis of Dorset, the Earl of Gloucester, and

others--who had been degraded to their former titles and estates, from

which King Richard had lifted them. These and others brewed a secret plot

to take King Henry's life, which plot might have succeeded had not one of

their own number betrayed them.

Their plan had been to fall upon the King and his adherents, and to

massacre them during a great tournament, to be held at Oxford. But Henry

did not appear at the lists; whereupon, knowing that he had been lodging

at Windsor with only a few attendants, the conspirators marched thither

against him. In the mean time the King had been warned of the plot, so

that, instead of finding him in the royal castle, they discovered through

their scouts that he had hurried to London, whence he was even then

marching against them at the head of a considerable army. So nothing was

left them but flight. Some betook themselves one way, some another;

some sought sanctuary here, some there; but one and another, they were

all of them caught and killed.

The Earl of Kent--one time Duke of Surrey-- and the Earl of Salisbury

were beheaded in the market-place at Cirencester; Lord Le Despencer --

MEN OF IRON

once the Earl of Gloucester--and Lord Lumley met the same fate at Bristol;

the Earl of Huntingdon was taken in the Essex fens, carried to the castle of

the Duke of Gloucester, whom he had betrayed to his death in King

Richard's time, and was there killed by the castle people. Those few who

found friends faithful and bold enough to afford them shelter, dragged

those friends down in their own ruin.

Just such a case was that of the father of the boy hero of this story, the

blind Lord Gilbert Reginald Falworth, Baron of Falworth and Easterbridge,

who, though having no part in the plot, suffered through it ruin, utter and

complete.

He had been a faithful counsellor and adviser to King Richard, and

perhaps it was this, as much and more than his roundabout connection

with the plot, that brought upon him the punishment he suffered.

MEN OF IRON

CHAPTER 1

Myles Falworth was but eight years of age at that time, and it was only

afterwards, and when he grew old enough to know more of the ins and

outs of the matter, that he could remember by bits and pieces the things

that afterwards happened; how one evening a knight came clattering into

the court-yard upon a horse, red-nostrilled and smeared with the sweat and

foam of a desperate ride--Sir John Dale, a dear friend of the blind Lord.

Even though so young, Myles knew that something very serious had

happened to make Sir John so pale and haggard, and he dimly

remembered leaning against the knight's iron-covered knees, looking up

into his gloomy face, and asking him if he was sick to look so strange.

Thereupon those who had been too troubled before to notice him,

bethought themselves of him, and sent him to bed, rebellious at having to

go so early.

He remembered how the next morning, looking out of a window high

up under the eaves, he saw a great troop of horsemen come riding into the

courtyard beneath, where a powdering of snow had whitened everything,

and of how the leader, a knight clad in black armor, dismounted and

entered the great hall door-way below, followed by several of the band.

He remembered how some of the castle women were standing in a

frightened group upon the landing of the stairs, talking together in low

voices about a matter he did not understand, excepting that the armed men

who had ridden into the courtyard had come for Sir John Dale. None of

the women paid any attention to him; so, shunning their notice, he ran off

down the winding stairs, expecting every moment to be called back again

by some one of them.

A crowd of castle people, all very serious and quiet, were gathered in

the hall, where a number of strange men-at-arms lounged upon the

benches, while two billmen in steel caps and leathern jacks stood guarding

the great door, the butts of their weapons resting upon the ground, and the

staves crossed, barring the door-way.

MEN OF IRON

In the anteroom was the knight in black armor whom Myles had seen

from the window. He was sitting at the table, his great helmet lying upon

the bench beside him, and a quart beaker of spiced wine at his elbow. A

clerk sat at the other end of the same table, with inkhorn in one hand and

pen in the other, and a parchment spread in front of him.

Master Robert, the castle steward, stood before the knight, who every

now and then put to him a question, which the other would answer, and

the clerk write the answer down upon the parchment.

His father stood with his back to the fireplace, looking down upon the

floor with his blind eyes, his brows drawn moodily together, and the scar

of the great wound that he had received at the tournament at York--the

wound that had made him blind--showing red across his forehead, as it

always did when he was angered or troubled.

There was something about it all that frightened Myles, who crept to

his father's side, and slid his little hand into the palm that hung limp and

inert. In answer to the touch, his father grasped the hand tightly, but did

not seem otherwise to notice that he was there. Neither did the black

knight pay any attention to him, but continued putting his questions to

Master Robert.

Then, suddenly, there was a commotion in the hall without, loud

voices, and a hurrying here and there. The black knight half arose,

grasping a heavy iron mace that lay upon the bench beside him, and the

next moment Sir John Dale himself, as pale as death, walked into the

antechamber. He stopped in the very middle of the room. "I yield me to

my Lord's grace and mercy," said he to the black knight, and they were the

last words he ever uttered in this world.

The black knight shouted out some words of command, and swinging

up the iron mace in his hand, strode forward clanking towards Sir John,

who raised his arm as though to shield himself from the blow. Two or

three of those who stood in the hall without came running into the room

with drawn swords and bills, and little Myles, crying out with terror, hid

his face in his father's long gown.

The next instant came the sound of a heavy blow and of a groan, then

MEN OF IRON

another blow and the sound of one falling upon the ground. Then the

clashing of steel, and in the midst Lord Falworth crying, in a dreadful

voice, "Thou traitor! thou coward! thou murderer!"

Master Robert snatched Myles away from his father, and bore him out

of the room in spite of his screams and struggles, and he remembered just

one instant's sight of Sir John lying still and silent upon his face, and of

the black knight standing above him, with the terrible mace in his hand

stained a dreadful red.

It was the next day that Lord and Lady Falworth and little Myles,

together with three of the more faithful of their people, left the castle.

His memory of past things held a picture for Myles of old Diccon

Bowman standing over him in the silence of midnight with a lighted lamp

in his hand, and with it a recollection of being bidden to hush when he

would have spoken, and of being dressed by Diccon and one of the women,

bewildered with sleep, shuddering and chattering with cold.

He remembered being wrapped in the sheepskin that lay at the foot of

his bed, and of being carried in Diccon Bowman's arms down the silent

darkness of the winding stair-way, with the great black giant shadows

swaying and flickering upon the stone wall as the dull flame of the lamp

swayed and flickered in the cold breathing of the night air.

Below were his father and mother and two or three others. A stranger

stood warming his hands at a newly-made fire, and little Myles, as he

peeped from out the warm sheepskin, saw that he was in riding-boots and

was covered with mud. He did not know till long years afterwards that the

stranger was a messenger sent by a friend at the King's court, bidding his

father fly for safety.

They who stood there by the red blaze of the fire were all very still,

talking in whispers and walking on tiptoes, and Myles's mother hugged

him in her arms, sheepskin and all, kissing him, with the tears streaming

down her cheeks, and whispering to him, as though he could understand

their trouble, that they were about to leave their home forever.

Then Diccon Bowman carried him out into the strangeness of the

winter midnight.

MEN OF IRON

Outside, beyond the frozen moat, where the osiers, stood stark and stiff

in their winter nakedness, was a group of dark figures waiting for them

with horses. In the pallid moonlight Myles recognized the well-known

face of Father Edward, the Prior of St. Mary's.

After that came a long ride through that silent night upon the saddle-

bow in front of Diccon Bowman; then a deep, heavy sleep, that fell upon

him in spite of the galloping of the horses.

When next he woke the sun was shining, and his home and his whole

life were changed.

MEN OF IRON

CHAPTER 2

From the time the family escaped from Falworth Castle that midwinter

night to the time Myles was sixteen years old he knew nothing of the great

world beyond Crosbey-Dale. A fair was held twice in a twelvemonth at the

market-town of Wisebey, and three times in the seven years old Diccon

Bowman took the lad to see the sights at that place. Beyond these three

glimpses of the outer world he lived almost as secluded a life as one of the

neighboring monks of St. Mary's Priory.

Crosbey-Holt, their new home, was different enough from Falworth or

Easterbridge Castle, the former baronial seats of Lord Falworth. It was a

long, low, straw-thatched farm-house, once, when the church lands were

divided into two holdings, one of the bailiff's houses. All around were the

fruitful farms of the priory, tilled by well-to-do tenant holders, and rich

with fields of waving grain, and meadow-lands where sheep and cattle

grazed in flocks and herds; for in those days the church lands were under

church rule, and were governed by church laws, and there, when war and

famine and waste and sloth blighted the outside world, harvests flourished

and were gathered, and sheep were sheared and cows were milked in

peace and quietness.

The Prior of St. Mary's owed much if not all of the church's prosperity

to the blind Lord Falworth, and now he was paying it back with a haven of

refuge from the ruin that his former patron had brought upon himself by

giving shelter to Sir John Dale.

I fancy that most boys do not love the grinding of school life--the

lessons to be conned, the close application during study hours. It is not

often pleasant to brisk, lively lads to be so cooped up. I wonder what the

boys of to-day would have thought of Myles's training. With him that

training was not only of the mind, but of the body as well, and for seven

years it was almost unremitting. "Thou hast thine own way to make in the

world, sirrah," his father said more than once when the boy complained of

the grinding hardness of his life, and to make one's way in those days

MEN OF IRON

meant a thousand times more than it does now; it meant not only a heart to

feel and a brain to think, but a hand quick and strong to strike in battle,

and a body tough to endure the wounds and blows in return. And so it was

that Myles's body as well as his mind had to be trained to meet the needs

of the dark age in which he lived.

Every morning, winter or summer, rain or shine he tramped away six

long miles to the priory school, and in the evenings his mother taught him

French.

Myles, being prejudiced in the school of thought of his day, rebelled

not a little at that last branch of his studies. "Why must I learn that vile

tongue?" said he.

"Call it not vile," said the blind old Lord, grimly; "belike, when thou

art grown a man, thou'lt have to seek thy fortune in France land, for

England is haply no place for such as be of Falworth blood." And in after-

years, true to his father's prediction, the "vile tongue" served him well.

As for his physical training, that pretty well filled up the hours

between his morning studies at the monastery and his evening studies at

home. Then it was that old Diccon Bowman took him in hand, than whom

none could be better fitted to shape his young body to strength and his

hands to skill in arms. The old bowman had served with Lord Falworth's

father under the Black Prince both in France and Spain, and in long years

of war had gained a practical knowledge of arms that few could surpass.

Besides the use of the broadsword, the short sword, the quarter-staff, and

the cudgel, he taught Myles to shoot so skilfully with the long- bow and

the cross-bow that not a lad in the country-side was his match at the

village butts. Attack and defence with the lance, and throwing the knife

and dagger were also part of his training.

Then, in addition to this more regular part of his physical training,

Myles was taught in another branch not so often included in the military

education of the day--the art of wrestling. It happened that a fellow lived

in Crosbey village, by name Ralph-the-Smith, who was the greatest

wrestler in the country-side, and had worn the champion belt for three

years. Every Sunday afternoon, in fair weather, he came to teach Myles

MEN OF IRON

the art, and being wonderfully adept in bodily feats, he soon grew so quick

and active and firm- footed that he could cast any lad under twenty years

of age living within a range of five miles.

"It is main ungentle armscraft that he learneth," said Lord Falworth

one day to Prior Edward. "Saving only the broadsword, the dagger, and

the lance, there is but little that a gentleman of his strain may use.

Neth'less, he gaineth quickness and suppleness, and if he hath true blood

in his veins he will acquire knightly arts shrewdly quick when the time

cometh to learn them."

But hard and grinding as Myles's life was, it was not entirely without

pleasures. There were many boys living in Crosbey-Dale and the village;

yeomen's and farmers' sons, to be sure, but, nevertheless, lads of his own

age, and that, after all, is the main requirement for friendship in boyhood's

world. Then there was the river to bathe in; there were the hills and valleys

to roam over, and the wold and woodland, with their wealth of nuts and

birds'-nests and what not of boyhood's treasures.

Once he gained a triumph that for many a day was very sweet under

the tongue of his memory. As was said before, he had been three times to

the market-town at fair-time, and upon the last of these occasions he had

fought a bout of quarterstaff with a young fellow of twenty, and had been

the conqueror. He was then only a little over fourteen years old.

Old Diccon, who had gone with him to the fair, had met some cronies

of his own, with whom he had sat gossiping in the ale-booth, leaving

Myles for the nonce to shift for himself. By-and-by the old man had

noticed a crowd gathered at one part of the fair-ground, and, snuffing a

fight, had gone running, ale-pot in hand. Then, peering over the shoulders

of the crowd, he had seen his young master, stripped to the waist, fighting

like a gladiator with a fellow a head taller than himself. Diccon was about

to force his way through the crowd and drag them asunder, but a second

look had showed his practised eye that Myles was not only holding his

own, but was in the way of winning the victory. So he had stood with the

others looking on, withholding himself from any interference and

whatever upbraiding might be necessary until the fight had been brought

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摘要：

MENOFIRON1MENOFIRONbyErnieHowardPyleMENOFIRON2INTRODUCTIONTheyear1400openedwithmorethanusualpeacefulnessinEngland.Onlyafewmonthsbefore,RichardII--weak,wicked,andtreacherous--hadbeendethroned,andHenryIVdeclaredKinginhisstead.Butitwasonlyaseemingpeacefulness,lastingbutforalittlewhile;forthoughKingHenr...

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