Part 14 (2/2)
Though both Sir Geoffrey and I were as yet knights by courtesy only, not having won our spurs, we were armed and equipped for the expedition like the older knights about us. Cedric also, though a yeoman born, wore a coat of woven mail, and had a good broadsword at his side. But slung upon his back the while was his steel cross-bow-his first and favorite weapon and the one with which he had such wondrous skill. He could strike a running hare more surely than I could one that sat stock still beneath a bush; and he had managed to impart to a dozen and more of the Mountjoy archers some measure of his craft, so that 'twas acknowledged we had the best cross-bow men in the countryside.
Geoffrey of Carleton had gained much in the two years just past in breadth of shoulder and length of arm; and could now dispute with me on almost even terms with the foils or the wooden targes and broadswords of our martial play. I had already the height and reach of my father who had a name for bone and brawn and feats of knightly strength; and Cedric, though a handsbreadth shorter, had the shoulders and thighs of a smith. He could hang by one arm from a bough, and draw himself up to the chin; and I have seen him crumple a gold coin in his hand by way of making good his word when he had declared it over thin and light.
Though Cedric was born and had lived till his sixteenth year in the woodland cottage of his father, the forester of Pelham, his speech was not as that of the churls around us; and at Castle Mountjoy he had learned the ways of gentleness as readily as one of n.o.blest blood. My lady mother was never aweary of lessoning such a pupil in the manners of a knight and gentleman; and now had reason to look with pride on her work. Withal Cedric ne'er forgot the cla.s.s from which he sprung nor carried himself as a lord over them when given authority.
We made but a short night of it at Hardiston. By three o' the clock we were in saddle again, and p.r.i.c.king forward toward the plain of Wallingham. By sun-up we were within three leagues of the castle, and the Constable had sent forward light-armed scouts to bring us word of the siege. Then spake my father, with the freedom of an old comrade of the Constable's and veteran of many a hard campaign:
”Methinks, my lord, that Rhys and his Welsh rabble will ne'er await our coming on Wallingham Plain where they must needs fight with the castle in their rear and the danger of a sortie of the garrison. Beshrew me if they do not fly again across the Marches when they hear of our coming in force, and await another time to strike at undefended lands.”
”By'r Lady! Mountjoy,” returned the Constable, ”I believe thou'rt right, and Rhys will never risk his thieving crew on a good wide field where sword and lance decide the day. But what would'st thou suggest? Can we do aught but ride for Wallingham as hard as may be?”
”Aye, my lord. There is a fork o' the road a bowshot hence where one track leads to Wallingham and the other to Egbert's Ford o'er a wide stream a league from the castle. 'Tis on the road to the Marches; and if we ride and hold it, we may there intercept the Welsh and cut them off from their retreat. If they leave not Wallingham, we can ride from thence and take them at vantage.”
”Well said, Mountjoy, i' faith!” cried De Lacey, ”prithee, Sir Richard of Mountjoy, ride forward and give the word to the vanguard to take the right turning. We'll come between the rogues and their retreat, and fight, mayhap, with the river at our backs. There'll be full many of them, I trust, that will never ride again for robbery and burning.”
Mine errand with the vanguard was quickly done. Less than an hour thereafter we rode out of the forest in sight of Egbert's Ford. Then were Lord Mountjoy's words full justified for we saw before us, and but half a mile away, the whole army of the Welsh in full retreat on the road toward the Marches and the tangle of mountains and valleys beyond.
Fortune smiled on our banners that morning; for indeed, had we foreknown our enemies' movements and timed our coming to the minute, it could not have better fallen out. As we emerged from the greenwood, half of the Welsh army had already crossed the stream; the water at the ford was filled with mounted men and bullock carts, laden with spoil and making their difficult way through the swift-flowing current; and the remainder of their forces still stood on the hither side, awaiting their turn for the crossing.
It needed not the eye of a great captain to discern our vantage in such a posture. As our knights and men-at-arms came forth on the field they set up a shout of joy full like that of unleashed hounds that see the boar started from his covert. Almost without a word from their chiefs, and without a moment's loss, they formed in line of battle. Then came the Constable's ringing word: ”Forward for Saint George!” and the line rolled forward down the hill with a rush and roar like that of the great downfall of rock and earth and full-grown trees that I had once seen in the Western mountains.
My father and I rode at the head of the Mountjoy knights and men-at-arms, and not far from the Constable. Sir Geoffrey full gallantly captained the chivalry of Carleton and Teramore, and Lionel of Montmorency rode just beyond him, leading a hundred lances. Lord Mountjoy had named Cedric to lead the Mountjoy archers, five score strong; and I could see o'er my shoulder that they were the first of the bowmen to form their line and follow in the wake of the men-at-arms.
Thus the army of the Constable poured down upon the luckless Welshmen in two thunderous, onrus.h.i.+ng waves.
[Ill.u.s.tration: _THE WATER AT THE FORD WAS FILLED WITH MOUNTED MEN AND BULLOCK CARTS, LADEN WITH SPOIL AND MAKING THEIR DIFFICULT WAY THROUGH THE SWIFT-FLOWING CURRENT_]
They made s.h.i.+ft to meet our attack as best they might, facing us with stubborn courage indeed, but with little skill of the military art, and with a battle front that seemed more like a moiling and howling mob of rioters than an army under its lawful captains. If any noise e'er heard could have effected it, we might have been checked indeed, for, as we galloped down upon them, they set up a chorus of shrieks and yells that seemed like to split one's ears. Swords and maces seemed their princ.i.p.al weapons, with here and there a lance or a battle-ax, and mingled helter-skelter with their heavier arms, the bows and shafts of their archers. Their bows had not the length nor the power of those of our English foresters; and the cloud of arrows they sent toward our mail-clad line had no more effect than as if a flock of sparrows had sought to check and thwart us.
Into that howling mob we rushed with leveled lances. Our horses were stayed by the very ma.s.s of the bodies of our enemies; and in a moment we were a.s.sailed, as it seemed, from all sides, by the survivors, some of them dreadfully wounded, but wielding swords and battle-clubs and javelins with a demon-like fury.
Their skill with these weapons was not to be despised; and, if they had no coats of mail to s.h.i.+eld them, neither were their movements impeded by weight of armor. Hundreds of our men-at-arms and scores of knights fell in that struggle on the river brink. Victory was no such easy goal as I had thought.
Meanwhile the half of the Welsh army which was on the other side of the river, commanded by Rhys himself, essayed to re-cross and come to the aid of their comrades. They might well have succeeded, and mayhap found some means of outflanking us, had it not been for the watchfulness of Cedric of Mountjoy. He and our whole array of archers had been close behind us, striving to do their share by way of shooting between our bodies at the ma.s.s of Welshmen. But soon the tangle was such that their bolts seemed as like to slay friend as foe, and they had gradually desisted. Then Cedric caught sight of the Welsh entering the water on the farther side, and drawing the Mountjoy archers to the left of the main battle, began sending a stream of quarrels in their direction. The Lord Constable, having just then a moment's respite, saw what was toward, and sent word to the other leaders of our bowmen to follow the tactics of the Mountjoy men. In a moment the air above the stream was filled with a cloud of bolts and shafts, and the waters became clogged with dead and dying men and horses. Such a rain of death and wounds was not to be endured by unprotected men. Soon the Welsh warriors were turning their horses' heads again toward the bank; and those that regained it, with their fellows who had not yet reentered the ford, fell back to a safer distance.
Now the battle on the river bank went swiftly to its close. The struggling and yelling Welsh grew ever fewer, and our knights gained room for yet more deadly work with sword and lance. Soon the half of the Welsh forces that had occupied the hither bank had been destroyed or scattered, and our army was crossing the river in pursuit of Rhys and his remaining warriors who were riding for life toward the mountains in the West.
True to his sworn purpose, the Constable lost not a moment in the chase.
The Welsh horses were fresher than ours that had already traveled far that day, and they were more lightly burdened, else we might have ridden them down and finished the work so well begun at Egbert's Ford. As it was, our enemies, by abandoning their spoils and las.h.i.+ng their ponies forward without mercy, managed to keep well beyond bowshot for the half a dozen leagues that lay between the Ford and the entrance of a narrow valley that led up into the mountains where they had so often before found safe retreat. Into this defile we rode at three o' the clock, cutting down or making prisoners of a dozen stragglers whose horses had failed them at the beginning of the upward road.
Without pause we spurred on up the stony pathway for a mile and more; then found the valley narrowing to a pa.s.s between high walls of rock.
Through this the army of the Welsh had gone, leaving a guard of a hundred or more to stay our progress.
Our leader well knew the tactics fit for such a juncture. He halted his main force, and sent forward the archers,-the long-bow men under Simon of Montmorency, and those with cross-bows under Cedric of Mountjoy. Soon the defenders of the pa.s.s were whelmed with a cloud of arrows and quarrels. They sheltered themselves as best they might 'mongst rocks and trees; but the arrows came like rain, searching every cranny of the pa.s.s. In scarce half an hour the last of the Welsh rear-guard was slain or had fled, and the way was open before us.
The Constable left two hundred men-at-arms and archers, under an old and trusted knight, to guard the pa.s.s behind us; and we rode forward into the wide valley. The day was now far spent, and the sun had pa.s.sed from sight behind the mountains that rose ever higher toward the West. The scattered oaks and firs and the great rocks that strewed the valley on either hand might well have sheltered an ambush; and we rode forward more slowly, with lines of skirmishers well to the fore and to the right and left.
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