Part 3 (1/2)

I longed in my heart to break through that encircling line and reach Duke William; but how could I go? The attack might at any hour come, the brethren were armed beneath their robes, all goodly things were already stored in the Castle, and we were ready to pa.s.s thither when commanded.

Hugo had his watchmen on the seaward wall, and had enrolled in martial wise all the lay brethren, many gentlemen, and sundry stout herdmen, shepherds, and merchants of the island. None slept, though some lay down to sleep; two days pa.s.sed without attack, but at the dawning of the third day we saw some twenty s.h.i.+ps sweep from St. Martin's northward, and as the wind permitted, draw nearer, until they were as close as they dared come, and we saw the boats trailing astern of every s.h.i.+p.

Then we knew we were surrounded both on land and by sea. Yet that sheer cliff was hard to mount, running straight up to our wall from the very sea. So in G.o.d and our own walls we had confidence still, and the prayers of men in danger went up from the Abbey choir. No prayers were said in those walls, after that day for ever. The day after, church, cloister, hall, refectory, guesthouse and abbot's dwelling were flaming up to heaven, or charred and ruined amid their fallen roofs and stones.

CHAPTER VI.

Of our pa.s.sing from cloister to castle, and of the burning of the _Vale Abbey_. Of their siege of the castle, and the exploits of _Brother Hugo_.

Now, on the next day it was close upon the hour of Lauds, when the scouts that were set in sight of the chateau among the thick brushwood and gorse, came with great haste and told us that the Moors were even now on their way to us, hoping to catch us unsuspecting at our prayers.

Now we had our orders of Brother Hugo in such a case, and we simply did what we had done already at his bidding, many times for practice of safety in an hour of danger. First the great heavy doors of the monastery were closed, and the bolts drawn, and the bars of iron swung into place to stay their pa.s.sage. Then we swiftly gathered up whatever still was left that was precious or useful--books, vestments, relics, and sacred vessels had gone already--and by the ringing of a little bell gathering together all that were now housed with us--a goodly company indeed it was of old and young--with all due confidence of heart and mind we proceeded in long line to the Church, which lay from east to west, forming with high thick walls the northern defence of our cloister. And as we pa.s.sed two and two up the choir that morning, the monks raised with slow and solemn voice their last Miserere in that holy place, the home of many of them from their boyhood.

But what did the convent at its prayers, as the Moorish host drew near?

This was made clear ere long. For we were to see, we lads, what ne'er had met our eyes before, the very earth open to save us, and this by no miracle save man's skill given by G.o.d to devise wise and cunning s.h.i.+fts for those in peril.

Lo! the abbot stood, _in medio chori_, n.o.ble and calm, and the sad strains of Miserere rolled down the aisle. He stood by a stool of oak that rested there for prayer withal, and ever so lightly touched a little point of bra.s.s, that lay but a speck in the midst of the stone floor. And as he pressed with his kid shoe a moment, the stone sank slowly some two fathoms, leaving disclosed a stairway, and a pa.s.sage arched overhead with bricks, with a cool and pleasant air therein, that, rus.h.i.+ng up, refreshed our souls.

Then we pa.s.sed downwards, old and young, and so along the brick pa.s.sage, that ran straight eastward, as I guessed to the Vale Castle. And the abbot stayed till we had all pa.s.sed through. Then, as he pressed upon the stone, it slowly rose again to its right level, and looking round I saw him in like manner cause sundry other stones to drop behind him as he came. Then letting loose a trap--lo! a very shower of granite blocks came falling down closing the path behind us with great heaps high as a man's shoulders.

So, heartening one another with cheery words as we went, we pa.s.sed through a little chamber that led straight through the Keep--and so we were met by Hugo and Bernard, and dispersed each to his right place, as was meet in such a perilous time.

Now, by favour of Brother Hugo, I stood near and succoured him, and though in my stormy life I have had fighting and besieging in Normandy, Brittany, Touraine, and here in England, never have I seen such prowess and such strength as I saw in Brother Hugo.

Thus, by his favour, I was ere long on the south bastion that overlooked the gate of the Castle. There was but one gate by Cherbourg's design, and that a small one for so great a place, and yet, what need of greater? The larger hole surely that a rat's home hath the easier to find the rat, and rabbiting were easier were the burrow a yard in circuit. So Cherbourg built Vale gate not for state but for use, to pa.s.s men through, not foes but friends, and it was clamped with well-hammered iron, and secured by ponderous bars and bolts.

From the rampart we looked southward, and saw away by the cloister gates the black swarm of the Sarrasin. We saw them nearer by-and-by. But now they stood before the gate, and seemed as they would hold parley with those that they thought to be within. But they heard naught, and saw naught through trap or grating. Then must they have thought the brethren were in hiding, or maybe stayed in the church to meet death at prayer, as good monks have chosen to do ere this, preferring so with calm hope to pa.s.s to G.o.d than in a useless struggle, for which He framed them not.

For a young tree was rooted up, and with its full weight, rammed by a troop of knaves against the gate. And though it stood the charge not once, nor twice, nor thrice indeed, at length with the rush and weight of many men behind it, it charged with such a force that the great gate fell with a sound that we could hear in the still morning, and in a moment the barbarous swarms were over it, and ready to work their will in cloister and house of prayer.

It was a sore moment, and one to make the strongest set their teeth hard together, when we saw through the trees a little curl of smoke wreathe itself up in the calm air, and then smoke more dense, and still more dense to follow, and then the bright red tongues of flame leaping and dancing as though in ungrateful glee o'er the ruin of the home of men who did no harm, but only good.

”They will soon be here, lad,” said Hugo, beside me on the wall. ”Let us say, 'Sursum corda.'”

”Ay, 'ad Dominum,'” I answered bravely.

Now, these were our sign and countersign for our holy war that day. And just then word came from the north-east bastion that the Moors were already in their boats, and rowing to the Castle, with ladder and rope on board, a round hundred or so of the knaves, hoping to catch us asleep in the rear, while we met the foe in front, and order was given that at once we be prepared to discharge plenty of stones, and to shoot our ignited darts down on them from the height. There was no sign yet of the foe in front, so we went to the seaward wall, whither the boats drew near. Now, Hugo himself sent forth the first stones, but the boats were yet too far, and the b.a.l.l.s but struck the waves, and made them spurt up fountains of foam.

Yet the rogues seemed surprised and scared at our being so ready with defence, and they stayed a moment ere they came within range of our armoury. Then at a signal of command they all rowed straight forward.

They hoped out of so many some would get through. See! A very hail of stones and rocky fragments, and a very shower of fiery arrows, each one a deadly comet as it falls! They descend on the swift-rowed boats. They fall as they will without mercy on man or thwart. The devils shriek out and drop their oars, and writhe horribly when they are hit. And some with bold hands sweep them out of their craft.

In one boat some three fire-darts fell, and while the rogues struggled among themselves to escape burning, a worse thing happened, for the dry wood within sprang into flame, and no dowsing of the water could put the fire out, till the waves rushed in and swamped her in a moment, and the crew of some ten souls were struggling in the water. None of the rest essayed to save them; they were already overburdened, and had their own work to escape damage.

I know not whether they retired, or whether, landing hard by, they swelled the main attack, which as I write had already begun. For Hugo had left me to speed the manage of the b.a.l.l.s, and when he called me again I saw a new sight in front of the great southwestern bastion.

The Moors were gathered in force indeed, and an evil crew, evil equipped, and in evil order they were. Each within a little his own general as we first viewed them, each his own envoy to shoot forth to us on the walls foul and blasphemous words, that shamed us to hear: ”Come forth, ye foul rats of the cloister; come and be spitted here on the ground.” ”Spear or fire, greasy monks, which choose ye, or a spit to roast your fat carcases by the flame.” ”Good Michael, send us, prithee, thine envoy hither; see us deck him with fair traps for thine entertainment”

In such wise they ranted and railed before us, but naught was said in answer, nor, as they doubtless hoped, did they draw us to think of leaving our fastness for the open. No word was spoken. No arrow was shot. Nor was a ball thrown yet.