ships
destined to convey them from their native shores.

CHAPTER VI.

EMBARKING FOR THE EAST.

IT was Saturday; and the sun shone brightly on pool and stream, and even
lighted up the dingy corners of walled cities, as the Earl of March
proceeded on foot from the castle to the port of Berwick, and embarked
with his knights and kinsmen.

The event created much excitement in the town. In fact, though the
princes and nobles of Europe were weary of enterprises that had ruined
so many great houses, the people still thought of the crusades with
interest, and talked of them with enthusiasm. The very name of Palestine
exercised a magical influence on the European Christians of that
generation. At the mention of the Holy Land, their imagination conjured
up the most picturesque scenery; Saracenic castles stored with gold and
jewels; cities the names of which were recorded in the sacred book which
the poorest knew by picture; and they listened earnestly as palmer or
pilgrim told of Sharon with its roses without thorns; Lebanon with its
cedars and vines; and Carmel with its solitary convent, and its summit
covered with thyme, and haunted by the eagle and the boar, till their
fancy pictured 'a land flowing with milk and honey,' by repairing to
which sinners could secure pardon without penance in this world, and
happiness without purgatory in the next.

It is not wonderful that, when such sentiments prevailed, the
embarkation of a great noble for the Holy Land should have excited much
interest; and, as Guy Muschamp and Walter Espec took their way from the
castle to the port, crowded with ships, and passed warehouses stored
with merchandise, the Red Hall of the Flemings resounding with the noise
of artificers, the wealthy religious houses which kept alive the flame
of ancient learning, and dispensed befitting charities, the streets
presented a motley assemblage of seafaring men, monks, warriors, and
soldiers; the wives and daughters of the burghers, all in holiday
attire, crowded the housetops or gazed from the windows and balconies;
and the burghers themselves, leaving their booths and warehouses,
flocked to the port to gossip with each other, and to witness the
departure of the armed pilgrims.

'Oh, good Walter,' exclaimed Guy Muschamp, whose spirit rose with the
excitement, 'is not this a stirring scene? By St. John of Beverley, what
rich armour! what gallant ships! what stately churches! And yet I would
wager my ba