CHAPTER V: THE CITY GAMES
The next evening the armourer, at Walter's request, continued his narrative.
“Soon after the tournament we began to fight again with Scotland. For some years we had had peace with that country, and under the regency a marriage was made between David, King of Scotland, son of Robert the Bruce, and the Princess Joan, sister to our king, and a four years' truce was agreed to.”
“But why should we always be fighting with Scotland?” Walter asked.
“That is more than I can tell you, Walter. We were peaceful enough with them until the days of Edward I; but he set up some claim to the throne of Scotland, the rights of which neither I nor anyone else, so far as I know, have ever been able to make out. The fact was he was strong, and thought that he could conquer Scotland. The quarrels between her nobles—most of them were allied by blood with our own and held possessions in both kingdoms—gave Edward an excuse to interfere. Scotland was conquered easily enough, but it was a hard task to hold it. Sir William Wallace kept the country in a turmoil for many years, being joined by all the common people. He inflicted one heavy defeat upon us at Stirling, but receiving no support from the nobles he was defeated at Falkirk, and some years afterwards was captured and executed here. His head you may see any day over London Bridge. As he fought only for his country and had ever refused allegiance to our king, it seems to me that his fate was a cruel one. Then when all appeared quiet, Robert Bruce raised Scotland again, and was crowned king. There was war for many years, but at last, at Bannockburn he inflicted such a defeat upon us as we have never had before. After that there were skirmishes and excursions, but Edward II was a weak prince, and it seemed that the marriage of David and the Princess Joan would bring about a permanent peace between the two countries; but it was not to be so.”
“Many of the English nobles held claims by marriage or grants upon lands in Scotland. They had, of course, been driven from these when the English were turned out by Bruce. By the terms of the marriage treaty in 1328 it was agreed that they should be reinstated. It was a foolish clause, because it was plain that the King of Scotland could not take these lands again from the Scotch nobles who had possession of them, many of them being well-nigh as powerful as himself. At this time Edward Baliol, son of the great rival of Robert Bruce, was in England. He still claimed the throne of Scotland as his right. Round him gathered a number of the English nobles who claimed lands in Scotland. The king offered no hindrance to the gathering of this force, for I doubt not that he was glad to see dissension in Scotland, which might give him some such pretext for interference as that which Edward I had seized to possess himself of that country. At first Baliol was successful, and was crowned at Scone, but he was presently defeated and driven out of Scotland. The Scots now made an eruption across the frontier as a retaliation for Edward's having permitted Baliol to gather a force here for his war against Bruce. King Edward was on the point of starting for Ireland, and he at once hastened north. He defeated the Scots at Halidon Hill, captured Berwick, and placed Baliol upon the throne. Bruce fled to France, where he was supported and encouraged by the French king.”
“The ill feeling between Edward and Phillip of Valois had gone on increasing ever since the former had been compelled to take the oath of allegiance to the latter, but outwardly the guise of friendship was kept up, and negotiations went on between the two courts for a marriage between the little Prince of Wales and Joanna, daughter of the French king.”
“The aid which Phillip gave to Bruce increased the bad feeling, and Edward retaliated for Phillip's patronage of Bruce by receiving with the greatest honour and courtesy Robert of Artois, a great feudatory of France, who had been banished by King Phillip. For a time, although both countries were preparing for war, peace was not broken, as Edward's hands were full in Scotland, where Baliol having bestowed immense possessions upon the English nobles who had assisted him, the country again rose in favour of Bruce. During the three years that followed King Edward was obliged several times to go to Scotland to support Baliol, who held the crown as his feudal vassal. He was always successful in the field, but directly his army recrossed the frontier the Scotch rose again. In 1330 a new crusade was preached, and in October of that year King Phillip solemnly received the cross and collected an immense army nominally for the recovery of Jerusalem. Whether his intentions were honest or not I cannot say, but certainly King Edward considered that Phillip's real aim in creating so great an army was to attack England. Whether this was so or not would need a wiser head than mine, Walter, to tell. Certainly Phillip of Valois invited Edward to cooperate with him in the crusade. The king in reply stated his belief that the preparations were intended for war in Europe rather than in Asia; but that if the King of France would agree to conclude a firm league of amity between the two countries, to restore the castles and towns of Aquitaine, whose surrender had been frequently promised but never carried out, and would bind himself by oath to give no assistance, direct or indirect, to Scotland, he would join him in his war for the delivery of the Holy Land.”
“I must say that King Edward's demands were reasonable, for it was clear that he could not march away from England with his whole force and leave Baliol unsupported against the assaults of his Scotch enemies, aided by France. Phillip was willing to accede to the first two conditions; but in regard to the third positively declined treating until David Bruce should be restored to the throne of his father. Now, had the French king openly supported Bruce from the first, none could have said that his conduct in befriending a dethroned monarch was aught but noble and generous; but he had all along answered Edward's complaints of the aid afforded by Frenchmen to the Bruce by denials that he himself supported him; and this declaration in his favour now certainly seemed to show that he had at last determined openly to throw off the veil, and that his great army was really collected against England. Robert of Artois craftily seized a moment when the king's indignation against Phillip was at the highest. At a great banquet held by King Edward, at which all his warlike nobles were present, Robert entered, preceded by two noble maidens carrying a heron, which, as you know, Walter, is considered the most cowardly of birds. Then in loud tones he called upon the knights present each to swear on the bird to perform some deed of chivalrous daring. First he presented it to King Edward himself, giving him to understand that he regarded him but as little braver than the heron for resigning without a blow the fair heritage of France.”
“The moment was well chosen, for Edward was smarting under the answer he had just received from Phillip. He at once rose and took an oath to enter France in arms; to wait there a month in order to give Phillip time to offer him battle, and to accept the combat, even should the French outnumber him ten to one. Every knight present followed the example of the king, and so the war with France, which had been for years a mere question of time, was at last suddenly decided upon. You yourself, Walter, can remember the preparations which were made throughout England: men were enrolled and arms prepared. We armourers were busy night and day, and every man felt that his own honour, as well as that of the country, was concerned in winning for King Edward the heritage of which he had been unlawfully robbed by the King of France.”
“On the 17th of March, 1337, at the parliament at Westminster, the king created the little prince, then seven years of age, Duke of Cornwall; and the prince immediately, in exercise of his new dignity, bestowed upon twenty of the most distinguished aspirants the honour of knighthood. Immense supplies were voted by the parliaments held at Nottingham, Westminster, and Northamton. Half the wool shorn in the summer following was granted to the king, with a variety of other taxes, customs, and duties. The revenues of all the foreign priories in England, a hundred and ten in number, were appropriated to the crown. Provisions of bacon, wheat, and oats were granted, and the king pawned his own jewels, and even the crown itself, to hire soldiers, and purchase him allies on the Continent. So great did the scarcity of money become in the country that all goods fell to less than half their value. Thus a vast army was raised, and with this King Edward prepared to try his strength with France.”
“Phillip on his part was making great preparations. While Edward had purchased the assistance of many of the German nobles Phillip raised large armaments in the maritime states of Italy. Spain also contributed a number of naval adventurers, and squadrons were fitted out by his vassals on the sea coasts of Normandy, Brittany, and Picardy. King Edward had crossed over into Belgium, and after vast delays in consequence of the slowness of the German allies, at last prepared to enter France at the end of September, 1339. Such, my lad, is the story, as far as I know, of the beginning of that war with France which is now raging, and whose events you know as well as I do, seeing that they are all of late occurrence. So far, although the English have had the best of it, and have sorely mauled the French both in the north and south, we have not gained any such advantages as would lead to a belief that there is any likelihood of an early termination, or that King Edward will succeed for a long time in winning back his inheritance of the throne of France.”
“There is no doubt that the war weighs heavily upon the people at large. The taxes are doubled, and the drain of men is heavy. We armourers, of course, have a busy time of it, and all trades which have to do with the furnishing of an army flourish exceedingly. Moreover, men of mettle and valour have an opportunity of showing what they are composed of, and England rings with the tales of martial deeds. There are some, Walter, who think that peace is the greatest of blessings, and in some ways, lad, they are no doubt right; but there are many compensations in war. It brings out the noble qualities; it raises men to think that valour and fortitude and endurance and honour are qualities which are something above the mere huckstering desire for getting money, and for ignoble ease and comfort. Some day it may be that the world will change, and that war may become a thing of the past; but to my mind, boy, I doubt whether men will be any happier or better for it. The priests, no doubt, would tell you otherwise; but then you see I am an armourer, and so perhaps am hardly a fair judge on the matter, seeing that without wars my craft would come to an end.”
Walter remained in thought for some time. “It seems to me, Master Geoffrey, that while wars may suit strong and courageous men, women would rejoice were such things to be at an end.”
“Women suffer most from wars, no doubt,” Geoffrey said, “and yet do you mark that they are more stirred by deeds of valour and chivalry than are we men; that they are ever ready to bestow their love upon those who have won honour and glory in war, even although the next battle may leave them widows. This has been always somewhat of a marvel to me; but I suppose that it is human nature, and that admiration for deeds of valour and bravery is ingrained in the heart of man, and will continue until such times come that the desire for wealth, which is ever on the increase, has so seized all men that they will look with distaste upon everything which can interfere with the making of money, and will regard the man who amasses gold by trading as a higher type than he who does valiant deeds in battle.”
“Surely that can never be,” Walter said indignantly.
“There is no saying,” the armourer answered; “at any rate, Walter, it will matter little to you or to me, for many generations must pass before such a state of things can come about.”
Two days later Walter, who had been across into the city, returned in a state of excitement.
“What do you think, Geoffrey? The king, with the Prince of Wales and all his court, are coming to the games next month. They say that the king himself will adjudge the prizes; and there is to be a grand assault-at-arms between ten of the 'prentices with a captain, and an equal number of sons of nobles and knights.”
“That will be rare,” Geoffrey Ward exclaimed; “but there will be some broken limbs, and maybe worse. These assaults-at-arms seldom end without two or three being killed. However, you youngsters will not hit as hard as trained knights; and if the armour be good, no great damage should be done.”
“Do you think that I shall be one of the ten?” Walter asked anxiously.
“Just as if you did not know you would,” Geoffrey replied, laughing. “Did you not win the prize for swordplay last year? And twelve months have added much to the strength of your arm, to say nothing of your skill with weapons. If you win this year again—and it will be strange if you do not—you are like enough to be chosen captain. You will have tough fighting, I can tell you, for all these young aspirants to knighthood will do their best to show themselves off before the king and queen. The fight is not to take place on horseback, I hope; for if so, it will be settled as soon as it begins.”
“No, it is to be on foot; and the king himself is to give orders as to the fighting.”
“You had best get out that helmet and coat of mail of yours,” Geoffrey said, “I warrant me that there will be none of finer make or of truer metal in the tourney, seeing that I made them specially for you. They are light, and yet strong enough to withstand a blow from the strongest arm. I tried them hard, and will warrant them proof, but you had best see to the rivets and fastenings. They had a rough handling last year, and you have not worn them since. There are some other pieces that I must put in hand at once, seeing that in such a melee you must be covered from head to foot.”
For the next week nothing was talked of in London but the approaching sports, and the workmen were already engaged in the erection of the lists and pavilions in the fields between the walls and Westminster. It was reported that the king would add valuable prizes to those given to the winners by the city; that there would be jousting on horseback by the sons of the court nobles, and that the young Prince of Wales would himself ride.
The king had once before taken part in the city sports, and with ten of the citizens had held his own against an equal number of knights. This was at the commencement of his reign; but the accident to the queen's stand had so angered him that he had not again been present at the sports, and his reappearance now was considered to be an act of approval of the efforts which the city had made to aid him in the war, and as an introduction of the young prince to the citizens.
When the day arrived there was a general flocking out of the citizens to the lists. The scene was a picturesque one; the weather was bright and warm; the fields were green; and Westminster, as well as London, sent out large numbers to the scene. The citizens were all in their best; their garments were for the most part of somber colours—russet, murrey, brown, and gray. Some, indeed, of the younger and wealthier merchants adopted somewhat of the fashion of the court, wearing their shoes long and pointed, and their garments parti-coloured. The line of division was down the centre of the body; one leg, arm, and half the body would be blue, the other half russet or brown. The ladies' dresses were similarly divided. Mingling with the citizens, as they strolled to and fro upon the sward, were the courtiers. These wore the brightest colours, and their shoes were so long that the points were looped up to the knees with little gold chains to enable them to walk. The ladies wore headdresses of prodigious height, culminating in two points; and from these fell, sweeping to the ground, streamers of silk or lighter material. Cloths of gold and silver, rich furs, silks, and velvets, were worn both by men and women.
None who saw the nobles of the court walking in garments so tight that they could scarce move, with their long parti-coloured hose, their silk hoods buttoned under the chin, their hair braided down their back, would have thought that these were the most warlike and courageous of knights, men whose personal prowess and gallantry were the admiration of Europe. Their hair was generally cut close upon the forehead, and the beard was suffered to grow, but was kept trimmed a moderate length. Many of the ladies had the coat-of-arms of their family embroidered upon their dresses, giving them the appearance of heralds' tabards. Almost all wore gold or silver girdles, with embroidered pouches, and small daggers.
Thus the appearance of the crowd who moved about among the fields near the lists was varied and brilliant indeed. Their demeanour was quiet, for the London merchants deemed a grave demeanour to belong to their calling, and the younger men and apprentices restrained their spirits in the presence of their superiors. For their special amusement, and in order, perhaps, to keep them from jostling too freely against the court gallants and ladies, the city authorities had appointed popular sports such as pleased the rougher classes; and bull baiting, cock-fighting, wrestling for a ram, pitching the bar, and hand ball, were held in a field some distance away. Here a large portion of the artisans and apprentices amused themselves until the hour when the king and queen were to arrive at their pavilion, and the contests were to commence.
Presently a sound of trumpets was heard, and the royal procession was seen moving up from Westminster. Then the minor sports were abandoned; the crowd gathered round the large fenced-in space, and those who, by virtue of rank or position in the city, had places in the various stands, took their places there.
There was a flourish of trumpets as the king and queen appeared in front of the pavilion, accompanied by the Prince of Wales and many of the nobles of the court, and a shout of welcome arose from the crowd. The shooting at a mark at once began. The preliminary trials had been shot off upon the preceding day, and the six chosen bowmen now took their places.
Walter had not entered for the prizes at archery. He had on previous years shot well; but since he had fully determined to become a man-at-arms he had given up archery, for which, indeed, his work at the forge and his exercises at arms when the fires were out, left him but little time. The contest was a close one, and when it was over the winner was led by the city marshal to the royal pavilion, where the queen bestowed upon him a silver arrow, and the king added a purse of money. Then there were several combats with quarterstaff and broadsword between men who had served among the contingents sent by the city to aid the king in his wars. Some good sword-play was shown and many stout blows exchanged, two or three men were badly hurt, and the king and all present were mightily pleased with the stoutness with which they fought.
The apprentices then came forward to compete for the prizes for sword-play. They wore light iron caps and shirts of thickly quilted leather, and fought with blunted swords, for the city fathers deemed wisely that with these weapons they could equally show their skill, and that with sharpened swords not only would severe wounds be given, but bad blood would be created between the apprentices of the various wards. Each ward sent its champion to the contest, and as these fought in pairs, loud was the shouting which rose from their comrades at each blow given or warded, and even the older citizens joined sometimes in the shouting and took a warm interest in the champions of their respective wards.
The iron caps had stout cheek-pieces which defended the sides of the face and neck, for even a blunted sword can deliver a terrible blow if it fall upon the naked flesh. It took a long time to get through the combats; the pairs were drawn by lot, and fought until the king decided which was the superior. Some were speedily beaten, at other times the contests were long and severe. It was generally thought by the apprentices that the final contest lay between Walter Fletcher of Aldgate and Ralph Smith of Ludgate. The former was allowed to be superior in the use of his weapon, but the latter was also skilful, was two years older, and greatly superior in strength. He had not taken part in the contest in the preceding year, as he had been laid up with a hurt in his hand which he had got in his employment as a smith, and the lads of Ludgate were confident that he would turn the tables upon the champion of the eastern ward. Both had defeated with ease the various opponents whom they had met, but it chanced that they had not drawn together until the last round, when they remained alone to struggle for the first and second prizes.
The interest in the struggle had increased with each round, and wagers were freely laid upon the result. According to custom the two champions had laid aside their leathern shirts and had donned mail armour, for it was considered that the crowning contest between the two picked young swordsmen of the city would be a severe one, and greater protection to the limbs was needed.
Before taking their places they were led up to the royal pavilion, where they were closely inspected by the king and his nobles.
“You are sure that this man is still an apprentice?” the king asked the Lord Mayor, who was seated next to him; “he has the appearance of a man-at-arms, and a stout one too; the other is a likely stripling, and is, as I have seen, marvellously dexterous with his sword, but he is but a boy while the other is a grown man.
“He is an apprentice, my liege, although his time will be up in a few days, while the other has yet three years to serve, but he works for an armourer, and is famed through the city, boy as he is, for his skill with weapons.”
After a few words to each, exhorting them to do their best in the sight of the queen and her ladies, the king dismissed them.
“I know the young one now!” the Prince of Wales said, clapping his hands as the apprentices turned away to take their places. “My Lord Talbot, I will wager a gold chain with you upon the smaller of the two.”
“I will take your wager,” the noble answered; “but I am by no means sure that I shall win it, for I have watched your champion closely, and the downright blows which he struck would seem to show that he has the muscle and strength of a man though still but a boy.”
The event justified the Prince of Wales's confidence; at the commencement of the struggle Ralph Smith tried to beat down his opponent by sheer strength as he had done his prior opponents, but to his surprise he found that all his efforts could not break down his opponent's guard. Walter indeed did not appear to take advantage of his superior lightness and activity, but to prefer to prove that in strength as well as skill he was equal to his antagonist. In the latter respect there was no comparison, for as soon as the smith began to relax his rain of blows Walter took the offensive and with a sweeping blow given with all his strength broke down his opponent's guard and smote him with such force upon his steel cap that, blunted as the sword was, it clove through the iron, and stretched the smith senseless on the ground. A loud shout broke from the assemblage. The marshal came up to Walter, and removing his helmet, led him to the royal pavilion, while Ralph was carried to a tent near, where a leech attended his wound.
CHAPTER VI: THE MELEE
“You have won your prize stoutly and well, sir 'prentice,” the king said. “I should not have deemed it possible that one of your age could have smitten such a blow, and right glad should I be of a few hundred lads of your mettle to follow me against the French. What is your calling?”
“I am an armourer, my liege,” Walter answered.
“And you are as good at mending armour as you are at marring it,” the king said, “you will be a rare craftsman one of these days. 'Tis a rare pity so promising a swordsman should be lost to our army. Wouldst like to change your calling, boy, and take to that of arms?”
“It is my hope to do so, sir,” Walter answered modestly, “and his grace the Prince of Wales has already promised me that I shall some day ride behind him to the wars.”
“Ah! Edward,” the king ejaculated, “how is this? Have you been already enlisting a troop for the wars?”
“No, sir,” the young prince replied, “but one day, now some four years since, when I was riding with my Lord Talbot and others in the fields near the Tower I did see this lad lead his play-fellows to the assault of an earthen castle held by others, and he fought so well and gallantly that assuredly no knight could have done better, until he was at last stricken senseless, and when he recovered I told him that should he choose to be a man-at-arms I would enlist him in my following to the wars.”
The king laughed.
“I deemed not that the lads of the city indulged in such rough sports; but I wonder not, seeing that the contingent which my good city of London furnishes me is ever one of the best in my army. We shall see the lad at work again tomorrow and will then talk more of it. Now let us bestow upon him the prize that he has so well earned.”
Walter bent on one knee, and the queen handed to him a sword of the best Spanish steel, which was the prize given by the city to the victor. The king handed him a heavy purse of gold pieces, saying:
“This may aid in purchasing your freedom.”
Walter bowed deeply and murmured some words of thanks, and was then led off by the marshal. After this many of the young nobles of the court jousted on horseback, ran at the ring, and performed other feats of knightly exercise to the great pleasure of the multitude. The marshal on leading Walter away said to him, “You will be captain of the city band tomorrow, and I must therefore tell you what the king purports. He has prepared a surprise for the citizens, and the present show will be different to anything ever before seen in London. Both to show them somewhat of the sieges which are taking place on the borders of France and the Low Countries, in which Sir Walter Manny and many other gallant knights have so greatly distinguished themselves, and as an exercise for the young nobles, he has determined that there shall be a castle erected. It will be built of wood, with battlements and towers, with a moat outside. As soon as the lists are over a large number of workmen will commence its erection; the pieces are all sawn and prepared. There will be machines, ladders, and other appliances. The ten champions on either side will fight as knights; you will have a hundred apprentices as men-at-arms, and the court party will have an equal number of young esquires. You, as winner of today's tourney, will have the choice of defence or attack. I should advise you to take the defence, since it is easier and requires less knowledge of war, and many of the other party have accompanied their fathers and masters in the field and have seen real sieges carried out.”
“Can you show me a plan of the castle,” Walter said, “if it be not contrary to the rules, in order that I may think over tonight the plan of fighting tomorrow?”
“Here it is,” the marshal said. “You see that the walls are 200 feet long, they are 12 feet in height, with a tower at the end and one over the gateway in the centre six feet high. There is a drawbridge defended by an outwork of palisades six feet high. The moat will be a dry one, seeing that we have no means of filling it with water, but it will be supposed to be full, and must be crossed on planks or bridges. Two small towers on wheels will be provided, which may be run up to the edge of the moat, and will be as high as the top of the towers.
“Surely they cannot make all this before morning?” Walter said.
“They will do so,” the marshal replied. “The castle has been put together in the king's courtyard, and the pieces are all numbered. Two hundred carpenters will labour all night at it, besides a party of labourers for the digging of the moat. It will be a rare show, and will delight both the citizens and the ladies of the court, for such a thing has never before been attempted. But the king grudges not the expense which it will cost him, seeing that spectacles of this kind do much to arouse the warlike spirit of the people. Here is a list of the various implements which will be provided, only it is understood that the mangonels and arblasts will not be provided with missiles, seeing that many would assuredly be killed by them. They will be employed, however, to show the nature of the work, and parties of men-at-arms will be told off to serve them. Crossbows and arrows will be used, but the weapons will be blunted. You will see that there are ladders, planks for making bridges, long hooks for hauling men down from the wall, beams for battering down the gate, axes for cutting down the palisades, and all other weapons. The ten who will serve under you as knights have already been nominated, and the city will furnish them with full armour. For the others, the apprentices of each ward will choose sufficient representatives to make up the hundred, who will fight as men-at-arms; these will wear steel caps and breastpieces, with leather jerkins, and vizors to protect their faces, for even a blunted arrow or wooden quarrel might well kill if it struck true.”
On leaving the marshal Walter joined Giles Fletcher and Geoffrey Ward, who warmly congratulated him upon his success. He informed them of the spectacle which the king had prepared for the amusement of the citizens on the morrow.
“In faith,” Geoffrey said, “the idea is a good one, and promises rare sport, but it will be rough, and we may expect many broken limbs, for it be no joke to be thrown down with a ladder from a wall even twelve feet high, and there will be the depth of the moat besides.”
“That will only be two feet,” Walter said, “for so it is marked on the plan.”
“And which do you mean to take, Walter, the attack or the defence? Methinks the king has erred somewhat in making the forces equal, for assuredly the besiegers should outnumber the besieged by fully three to one to give them a fair chance of success.”
“I shall take the assault,” Walter answered; “there is more to be done that way than in the defence. When we get home, Geoffrey, we will look at the plans, and see what may be the best manner of assault.”
Upon examining the plan that evening they found that the wall was continued at an angle at either end for a distance of some twenty feet back so as to give a postern gate behind each of the corner towers through which a sortie might be made. Geoffrey and Walter talked the matter over, and together contrived a plan of operation for the following day.
“You will have one great advantage,” Geoffrey said. “The apprentices are all accustomed to the use of the bow, while the young nobles will know but little of that weapon; therefore your shooting will be far straighter and truer, and even a blunt-headed arrow drawn from the shoulder will hit so smart a blow that those on the wall will have difficulty in withstanding them.”
After the talk was ended Walter again crossed London Bridge, and made his way to Ludgate, where he found his late antagonist, whose head had been plastered up, and was little the worse for the conflict.
“There is no ill-will between us, I hope,” Walter said, holding out his hand.
“None in the world,” the young smith said frankly. He was a good-tempered-looking young giant, with closely-cropped hair, light-blue eyes, and a pleasant but somewhat heavy face.
“My faith but what a blow was that you gave me; why, one would think that your muscles were made of steel. I thought that I could hit a good downright blow, seeing that I have been hammering at the anvil for the last seven years; but strike as I would I could not beat down your guard, while mine went down, as if it had been a feather, before yours. I knew, directly that I had struck the first blow, and felt how firm was your defence, that it was all up with me, knowing that in point of skill I had no chance whatever with you.
“I am glad to see that you bear no malice, Ralph,” Walter said, “and hope that we shall be great friends henceforth, that is, if you will take me as such, seeing that you are just out of your apprenticeship, while I am not yet half through mine. But I have come to talk to you about tomorrow. Have you heard that there is to be a mimic siege?”
“I have heard about it,” Ralph said. “The city is talking of nothing else. The news was published at the end of the sports. It will be rare fun, surely.”
“It will be pretty rough fun,” Walter replied; “and I should not be much surprised if some lives are lost; but this is always so in a tournament; and if knights and nobles are ready to be killed, we apprentices need not fear to hazard our lives. But now as to tomorrow. I, as the winner today, am to be the leader of the party, and you, as second, will of course be captain under me. Now I want to explain to you exactly what I propose to do, and to arrange with you as to your share in the business.”
The young smith listened attentively to Walter's explanation, and, when he had done, exclaimed admiringly: “Why, Walter, you seem to be made for a general. How did it all come to you, lad? I should never have thought of such a scheme.”
“I talked it over with my master,” Walter said, “and the idea is his as much as mine. I wonder if it will do.”
“It is sure to do,” the smith said enthusiastically. “The castle is as good as taken.”
The next day all London poured out to the scene of the sports, and the greatest admiration and wonder were expressed at the castle, which had risen, as if by magic, in the night. It was built at one end of the lists, which had been purposely placed in a hollow, so that a great number of people besides those in the pavilions could obtain a view from the surrounding slopes. The castle was substantially built of heavy timber painted gray, and looked at a little distance as if constructed of stone. A flag floated from the central tower, and the building looked so formidable that the general opinion was freely expressed that the task of the assailants, whoever they might be—for at present this was unknown—was quite impossible. At ten o'clock the king and his court arrived. After they had taken their places the two bands, headed by their leaders, advanced from the lower end of the lists, and drew up in front of the royal pavilion. The leaders took their places in front. Behind them stood ten chosen followers, all of whom, as well as their chiefs, were encased in full armour. Behind, on one side, were 100 apprentices, on the other 100 esquires, all attired as men-at-arms. The court party were led by Clarence Aylmer, son of the Earl of Pembroke. His companions were all young men of noble family, aspirants for the order of knighthood. They were, for the most part, somewhat older than the apprentices, but as the latter consisted chiefly of young men nearly out of their term the difference was not great. Walter's armour was a suit which the armourer had constructed a year previously for a young knight who had died before the armour could be delivered. Walter had wondered more than once why Geoffrey did not endeavour to sell it elsewhere, for, although not so decorated and inlaid as many of the suits of Milan armour, it was constructed of the finest steel, and the armourer had bestowed special care upon its manufacture, as the young knight's father had long been one of his best customers. Early that morning Geoffrey had brought it to his room and had told him to wear it instead of that lent by the city.
“But I fear it will get injured,” Walter had urged. “I shall not spare myself, you know, Geoffrey, and the blows will be hard ones.
“The more need for good armour, Walter. These city suits are made for show rather than use. You may be sure that young Pembroke and his band will fight their hardest rather than suffer defeat at the hands of those whom they consider a band of city varlets.”
Before issuing from the tent where he and his companions had put on their mail Walter carefully fastened in the front of his helmet a tiny gold bracelet. Upon taking their places before the pavilion the king ordered the two leaders to advance, and addressed them and the multitude in the following words:
“Brave leaders, and you, my people, I have contrived the pastime today that I may show you on a mimic scale the deeds which my brave soldiers are called upon to perform in France. It is more specially suited for the combatants of today, since one party have had but small opportunity of acquiring skill on horseback. Moreover, I wish to teach the lesson that fighting on foot is as honourable as fighting on horseback, for it has now been proved, and sometimes to our cost, in Scotland, that footmen can repulse even the bravest chivalry. Today each party will fight his best. Remember that, even in the heat of conflict, matters must not be carried to an extreme. Those cut off from their friends will be accounted prisoners, as will those who, being overpowered, throw down their arms. Any wounded on either side will not be accounted as prisoners, but may retire with honour from the field. You,” he said, looking at Walter, “as the conqueror of yesterday, have the choice of either the attack or defence; but I should advise you to take the latter, seeing it is easier to defend a fortress than to assault it. Many of your opponents have already gained credit in real warfare, while you and your following are new to it. Therefore, in order to place the defence on fair terms with the assault, I have ordered that both sides shall be equal in numbers.”
“If your liege will permit me,” Walter said bowing, “I would fain take the assault. Methinks that, with my following, I could do better thus than in defence.”
The king looked somewhat displeased.
“As you will,” he said coldly; “but I fear this will somewhat mar the effect of the spectacle seeing that you will have no chance whatever against an equal force, more accustomed to war than your party, and occupying so superior a position. However,” he went on, seeing that Walter made no sign of changing his mind, “as you have chosen, so be it; and now it is for you to choose the lady who shall be queen of the tourney and shall deliver the prizes to the victors. Look round you; there are many fair faces, and it is for you to choose among them.”
Smiles passed between many of the courtly dames and ladies at the choice that was to be made among them by the apprentice lad; and they thought that he would be sorely puzzled at such a duty. Walter, however, did not hesitate an instant. He ran his eye over the crowd of ladies in the royal gallery, and soon saw the object of his search.
“Since I have your majesty's permission,” he said, “I choose, as queen of the tournament, Mistress Edith Vernon.”
There was a movement of surprise and a general smile. Perhaps to all who thought that they had a chance of being chosen the selection was a relief, as none could be jealous of the pretty child, who, at the king's order, made her way forward to the front, and took her seat in a chair placed between the king and queen. The girl coloured brightly; but she had heard so much of tourneys and jousts that she knew what was her duty. She had been sitting far back on the previous day, and the apprentice, when brought up before the king, was too far below for her to see his features. She now recognized him.
“Sir Knights,” she said in a loud, clear, childish voice, “you will both do your duty today and show yourselves worthy cavaliers. Methinks that, as queen of the tourney, I should be neutral between you, but as one of you carries my gage in his helm, my good wishes must needs go with him; but bright eyes will be fixed on you both, and may well stir you to deeds of valour.”
So saying, she resumed her seat with a pretty air of dignity.
“Why, sweetheart,” the king said, “how is it that this 'prentice lad knows your name, and how is it that he wears your gage, for I know that the young Pembroke wears the glove of the Earl of Surrey's daughter?”
“He saved my life, sir, mine and my mother's,” the child said, “and I told him he should be my true knight, and gave him my bracelet, which you see he wears in his helm.”
“I recall somewhat of the story,” the king said, “and will question my Lady Vernon further anon; but see, the combatants are filing off to their places.”
With flags flying and trumpets blowing young Pembroke led his forces into the castle. Each of his ten knights was followed by an esquire bearing his banner, and each had ten men-at-arms under his immediate order. Two of them, with twenty men, remained in the outwork beyond the drawbridge. The rest took their station on the walls, and towers, where a platform had been erected, running along three feet below the battlements. The real men-at-arms with the machines of war now advanced, and for a time worked the machines, which made pretence at casting great stones and missiles at the walls. The assailants then moved forward and, unslinging their bows, opened a heavy fire of arrows at the defenders, who, in turn, replied with arrows and cross-bows.
“The 'prentices shoot well,” the king said; “by our lady, it would be hot work for the defenders were the shafts but pointed! Even as it is the knocks must be no child's play, for the arrows, although not pointed, are all tipped with iron, without which, indeed, straight shooting would be impossible.”
The return fire from the walls was feeble, and the king said, laughing, “So far your knight, fair mistress, has it all his own way. I did not reckon sufficiently upon the superiority of shooting of the London lads, and, indeed, I know not that I ought not in fairness to order some of the defenders off the walls, seeing, that in warfare, their numbers would be rapidly thinned. See, the assailants are moving up to the two towers under shelter of the fire of the archers.”
By this time Aylmer, seeing that his followers could make no effectual reply to the arrow fire, had ordered all, save the leaders in full armour, to lie down behind the parapet. The assailants now gathered thickly round each tower, as if they intended to attempt to cross by the bridges, which could be let down from an opening in the tower level with the top of the wall, while archers upon the summit shot fast and thick among the defenders who were gathering to oppose them.
“If the young Pembroke is wise,” the king said, “he will make a strong sally now and fall upon one or other of the parties.”
As he spoke there was a sudden movement on the part of the assailants, who, leaving the foot of the towers, made a rush at the outwork in the centre. The instant they arrived they fell to work with axes upon the palisades. Many were struck down by the blows dealt them by the defenders, but others caught up the axes and in less than a minute several of the palisades were cut down and the assailants poured in. The defenders fought gallantly, but they were overpowered by numbers. Some were struck down, others taken prisoners by main force, and the rest driven across the drawbridge, just as the gates were opened and Pembroke, at the head of the defenders, swarmed out to their assistance.
There was a desperate fight on the bridge, and it was well that the armour was stout, and the arms that wielded the weapons had not yet attained their full strength. Several were knocked off the bridge into the moat, and these were, by the rules, obliged at once to retire and take no further part in the contest. Walter and Ralph the smith, fought in front of their men, and hard as Pembroke and his followers struggled, they could not drive them back a foot. The court party were galled by the heavy fire of arrows kept up by the apprentices along the side of the moat, and finding all his efforts to regain the earth-work useless, Pembroke withdrew his forces into the castle, and in spite of the efforts of the besiegers managed to close the gates in their faces. The assailants, however, succeeded in severing the chains of the drawbridge before it could be raised.
From the tower above, the defenders now hurled over great stones, which had been specially placed there for the purpose of destroying the drawbridge should the earthwork be carried. The boards were soon splintered, and the drawbridge was pronounced by the Earl of Talbot, who was acting as judge, to be destroyed. The excitement of the spectators was worked up to a great pitch while the conflict was going on, and the citizens cheered lustily at the success of the apprentices.
“That was gallantly done,” the king said to Queen Philippa, “and the leader of the assailants is a lad of rare mettle. Not a captain of my army, no, not Sir Walter Manny himself, could have done it more cleverly. You see, by placing his forces at the ends of the wall he drew all the garrison thither to withstand the assaults from them, and thus by his sudden movement he was able to carry the outwork before they could recover from their surprise, and come down to its aid. I am curious to know what he will do next. What thinkst thou, Edward?” he asked his son, who was standing by his side.
“He will win the day,” the young prince said; “and in faith, although the others are my comrades, I should be glad to see it. He will make a gallant knight, sir, one of these days, and remember he is engaged to follow my banner, so you must not steal him from me. See, my liege, they are taking planks and ladders to the outwork.”
“They are doing wrongly then,” the king said, “for even should they bridge the moat where the drawbridge is, they cannot scale the wall there, since the tower defends it, and the ladders are but long enough to reach the lower wall. No, their leader has changed his mind, they are taking the planks along the edge of the moat towards the tower on the left, and will aid the assault by its bridge by a passage of the moat there.”
It seemed, indeed, that this was the plan. While some of the assailants kept up the arrow fire on the wall others mounted the tower, while a party prepared to throw a bridge of planks across the moat. The bridge from the tower was now lowered; but a shout of triumph rose from the defenders when it was seen that by some mistake of the carpenters this was too short, and when lowered did not reach within six feet of the wall.
“All the better,” the king said, while the prince gave an angry exclamation. “Accidents of this kind will happen, and give an opportunity to a leader to show his resources. Doubtless he will carry planks up to the tower and so connect the bridge and the wall.”
This, indeed, was what the assailants tried to do, while a party threw planks across the moat, and rushing over placed ladders against the wall and strove to climb. They strove in vain, however. The ladders were thrown down as fast as they were placed, while the defenders, thickly clustered on the walls, drove back those who tried to cross from the tower.
“I do not see the leader of the assailants,” the prince said.
“He has a white plume, but it may have been shorn off,” the king said. “Look, the young Pembroke is making a sortie!”
From the sortie gate behind the tower the defenders now poured out, and running down to the edge of the moat fell upon the stormers. These, however, received them with great steadiness, and while some continued the attack the rest turned upon the garrison, and, headed by Ralph the smith, drove them gradually back.
“They fight well and steadily,” the king said. “One would have thought that they had reckoned on the sortie, so steadily did they receive it.”
As only a portion of the garrison had issued out they were unable to resist long the pressure of the apprentices, who drove them back step by step to the sally-port, and pressing them hard endeavoured to force their way in at their heels.