Little, however, did the children care for all this. The old servants saw that the fires in the great hall were large and that they had plenty to eat and drink, and as far as we can tell there was no one else to look after them. But they were free to do as they liked all the day long, and what more does any child want?

Still their ideas of amusement were different. The elder boy and girl roamed about when the sun was shining and played at being knights and robbers. When they could persuade Richard to play too, then they had a lady in distress as well, but in general they were obliged to leave him perched up on the seat of the tiny window with his eyes glued to a book taken out of his father's library. For Richard had managed to learn to read. Most likely the priest had taught him.

A dull boy, his guardians declared, on the few occasions that they happened to see him. He will make a rare parish priest some day, when his brother is gaining his spurs in the wars. It is lucky that he  is the eldest. But his brother knew very well that it was Richard who faced the wild bull which he  was afraid of, and had borne the brunt of the farmer's wrath when Henry's dogs had trampled down his field of young wheat; and whatever plans Henry formed, it was Richard of whom he asked counsel, though it never occurred to him to wonder what Richard was thinking of, when he wandered about their mother's garden of tangled roses or stared with unseeing eyes at the water-lilies in the marsh pools.

Yet Richard had his dreams as well as his brother, and they were just as dear to his heart. He longed to go to the University of Oxford, of which he had heard marvellous tales from the sons of the knights and gentlemen who were his neighbours. There he could sit on the banks of the Cherwell or the Isis and read the books whose very names were now barely known to him, and talk with scholars who had travelled into distant lands, perhaps into Italy itself. Ah, what would he not give to go there too! But then his brother would come up and ask whether Richard thought that such a field should be ploughed and sown with corn, or such a piece of marshy ground would, if drained, bring forth a good crop, for by this time the boys had grown up and the elder was not to be a soldier for some years yet. Still, after all, the true farmer was not Henry but Richard, for it was he who read in the old Latin authors, such as Virgil or Colomella, descriptions of how lands should be properly farmed, and it was Richard who learned what trees should be cut down and what prices to ask for the wood from the owners of the salt works round about—the word wych meaning salt. And for a while Richard put the thought of Oxford steadily out of his mind, and helped his brother so well and cleverly that at last Henry, grateful for the flourishing condition of his lands, offered to make them all over to Richard. At the same time a bride was proposed for him, the daughter of a nobleman who had heard how good and honourable the young man was.

But neither of these proposals tempted Richard. He had worked hard for years, not only to bring the estates into a condition of prosperity, but to teach his brother how to keep them so. Now he might follow his own wish, which was to prepare himself to enter the priesthood.

By this time, to the relief of all men, John was dead and his son Henry III had succeeded him. The English barons had not forgotten the struggle with the king which had ended with their obtaining Magna Charta, nor their invitation to Prince Louis of France to invade England. There was plenty of trouble still in store for everyone; yet things were better than they were, Louis had gone back to his own country and the barons hoped that the young king would be easily bent to their will.

Richard was about twenty-three when he rode up to Oxford to attend the lectures of the famous Robert Grosstête, afterwards Bishop of Lincoln, and the first English Cardinal. But the town the young man had dreamed of was very different from the beautiful city that we know. It was surrounded with walls and fortified with towers; the houses in which the undergraduates lived—for there were as yet no colleges—were mostly built of wood and thatched. The river Isis spread itself wide over the plain, breaking up into numerous channels, and its islands were covered with buildings, while on the hills around were dense forests. But there was the great Abbey of St. Frideswide, where Wolsey was afterwards to build the College of Christ Church, and the clang of the bells in St. Mary's tower told the students that there was a chance of fighting in the narrow streets, which no one, of course, would desire to miss; and seeming to rise straight out of the water was the Abbey of Oseney, in a year or two to be rivalled by schools belonging to the Order of St. Dominic, while Franciscan brothers crowded the streets. If Oxford can be noisy now when undergraduates are excited, it was a thousand times worse then when there were few, if any, rules they were bound to obey, and the town was swarming with a crowd of lively young men, eager to seize an excuse for brawling; and if now and then a life was lost in a scuffle—well, it did not much signify and there were plenty of people to shelter the murderer!

When Richard first went up to Oxford he supposed himself to be a rich man, but very soon he learned that the bag of money which was his share of the family estates had been made away with by the priest to whom he had entrusted it for safe keeping. During the years in which he was studying, Richard was naturally prevented from earning his living, and he was obliged to accept a small sum from his brother to keep him from starving. Lodgings were dear in Oxford and the room Richard dwelt in was shared with two very poor students. Indeed the whole three owned only one gown, so that they had to take it in turns to wear it for lectures.

In spite of all this they never lost heart. Each morning, as soon as it was light enough to see to read, they sprang out of bed and forgot that they were cold and hungry in the delight of study or striving to understand some obscure philosophy before the lucky one who had the gown that day went off to his lectures. They ate as seldom as they could and as little—just a little bread and soup and wine, to which meat or fish was added on feast days. Richard, at any rate, was cheerful and happy during the six or seven years he remained there, and would never ask for pensions or places as was the way of most of his friends.

After he had taken his degree he went over to Paris, like most young men of his day, and when he had qualified there as a teacher he came back to Oxford to seek for some pupils, for in those times every student was allowed to choose his own master. He was one morning at a dinner given by a youth to celebrate his success in his examination, when a servant who was waiting told Richard that some one desired to speak with him at the door.

Let us have him in and give him a cup of wine, cried the host, jumping up and leaving the room as he spoke; but the man, who was on horseback, refused, saying that his message was for Richard alone. Fearing ill news of his brother or sister, Richard hastened out, but found no one at the door and the street was empty. Much astonished he returned to the banqueting-room, exclaiming:

There is nobody there; it must be— when he stopped, surprised at the look on the faces of all present.

What is the matter? he asked, and the host answered:

Look, Richard! Scarcely had you left us when this stone fell from the roof, and had you been here you would of a surety been crushed.

Then Richard knew it was an angel who had brought him the message and that his life had been preserved for him to do God's work.

Soon after this happened Richard's dream was fulfilled, and he set out for Italy in order to study the canon law, or law of the church, at Bologna. To a man who had only beheld the plains of Northern France and the woods and fields of the Midlands of England, the sight of the Alps must have been almost terrifying. In those days, and indeed nearly as late as the nineteenth century, mountains and waterfalls were considered ugly and ungainly objects, and no one would have thought of going to visit them for pleasure. No doubt Richard was no different from the rest of the world, and most likely he breathed a sigh of relief when he found himself past those awful precipices, and safe among the walled cities of Lombardy. At any rate it would be long before he need cross those fearful passes again, he thought, for he had been told the course of study at the University of Bologna lasted for seven years.

Large as Oxford had seemed to the country-bred Richard, Bologna was about three times the size and counted ten thousand students alone; and if Oxford had appeared noisy with its perpetual fights between the students and the townspeople—Town and Gown they were called then, as now—Bologna was a hundred times worse, for the city was the headquarters of the league which supported the power of the pope against the emperor. When Richard arrived there, the town was in an unusual state of excitement, as if it were preparing itself for a war with the Emperor Frederick II. Some of the high brick towers, from which you can see miles over the country, were rising fast, and the streets were full of chattering people who never seemed to go to bed, but asked each other the news all night under the arcades. It was in vain that John of Vicenza, the Dominican friar, bore the cross through the streets and summoned the citizens to follow him and to make peace with their enemies. The peace, indeed, was made, and solemn vows taken, but they were broken again almost as soon as sworn.

Yet through all the noise and the tumult and party cries, Richard and his fellow-students continued to read, and the Englishman soon forgot the din of men and clash of arms in the interest of his books. Probably he was older than the others; certainly he studied harder than most, for when his master became too ill to teach, he handed over his pupils to Richard, now a doctor in law, and offered him besides his daughter in marriage. Then Richard had to tell him that grateful as he was for his kindness he hoped to become a priest, and was intending shortly to return home and take orders in the English Church.