With the Black Prince

by William Osborn Stoddard

  CHAPTER VIII.

  THE CASTLE OF BRUYERRE.

  Splendid to look upon was the advance of King Edward's army from Caen,with its banners, its mailclad horsemen, its winding rivers of shields,and the flashing of the sunlight on the helmets and on the points ofpolished steel.

  The roads were dusty, but their dryness gave good footing, and all wagonwheels rolled well. There was a hindrance in the narrowness of all theNormandy highways and byways, for it compelled Edward to divide hisforces and send them forward by several lines of march. His being therecould now be known to Philip of France at once, but the great Frencharmy was still in Gascony, beleaguering the stout Earl of Derby and hisforces. There was therefore no power to block the progress of theEnglish invaders, although each of their divisions had somewhat tocontend with. There were walled towns and there were fortresses. In someof these were not only garrisons, but much plunder, and their takingwould be required by the military plans of the king. His generalshipwas greatly exhibited in this, that by landing so unexpectedly inNormandy, and by then marching straight across country, as if his aimwere to take Paris, he compelled Philip to loosen his grip upon the armyof the Earl of Derby, and to march his mighty host with all speed to thesaving of his own capital.

  Town after town had surrendered to Edward, and many castles had openedtheir gates without a fight, yet not all. The country people hadsuffered sorely, for the army required much in the way of provisions,but the scourge of war fell most heavily upon the rich, and on such asmade resistance.

  Richard Neville was now honored with the command of a goodly detachment.With him, as before on the Golden Horn, were men-at-arms and footmen ofevery kind, for so had the king ordered for all parts of his advance.

  The heir of Wartmont was this day so far separated from the main body ofthe king's army that it was almost as if he were invading that part ofNormandy by himself, in command of a small army of his own.

  "My Lord," said a man-at-arms who rode at his side, "if thou wilt permitthe question, art thou sure of thy direction? Were we to stray too far,we might meet with reproof, or worse."

  "This is the road that Sir Geoffrey Harcourt bade me take," repliedRichard. "But I would we had a guide."

  They were well in advance of their little column, and they rode out overthe brow of a low hill and from under the shadow of overarching trees.

  "My Lord of Wartmont," loudly exclaimed the man-at-arms, "look yonder!Shall we not push forward?"

  Before them lay a deep, narrow valley, with many cots and vineyardsscattered up and down the stream which wandered through it. Directlyacross the hollow, however, there was a sight worth seeing. High androck-bordered was that northward hillside, but on its crown was afortress that was half a church, with a walled town beyond the foot ofthe castle. High and precipitous were the granite cliffs, high were thetowers of the castle, but into the sunset light above them all arose thecross-tipped steeple of the church.

  On this side of the outer wall of the town on the hill was a great gate,and over it floated, as also on the donjon keep of the castle, near thetown gate, the golden lilies of the royal standard of France, streamingout against the sky.

  "We will not go forward," said Richard. "We will halt, rather. No forcelike ours can do aught with a fort like that. Nor shall we now surprisethem. Some captain of high rank is in command, for there is the_fleur-de-lis_ flag."

  "My Lord, there was the blast of a horn!" said Ben o' Coventry, from thearcher ranks.

  "Thou hast keen hearing," Richard replied, as again the mellow musiccame faintly up the road; "that horn calleth us to wait for the forcethat followeth."

  At the word of command, the horsemen drew rein and the footmen stood atrest. They had not long to wait.

  A splendid black horse, and on him a rider in black armor, came spurringalong the narrow highway accompanied only by a page.

  "It is the prince!" exclaimed Richard. "What doeth he here alone?"

  So loudly was it spoken, and so near was the young royal hero ofEngland, that the answer came from his own lips.

  "Not alone am I, Richard Neville, but I have outridden Wakeham to speedon and warn thee not to show thyself beyond the ridge, lest thou warnthe warders of Bruyerre that we are at hand. Halt, thou and thine!"

  "My Lord Prince Edward, we are halted, with that very thought in mind,"respectfully answered Richard. "But is yonder place Bruyerre?"

  "It is, indeed," said the prince. "'Tis a stronghold since the days ofNorman Rollo. Duke Robert also was besieged there once."

  "How, then, shall we take it?" came regretfully from Richard's lips. "Itwere not well to leave it untaken."

  "That will we not," said the Prince, "and glad am I have to thee withme. For that end we sent thee ahead. Sir Henry and I had few enough ofmen, and they are mostly men-at-arms. We need thy Irish kerns,[A] andthy Welsh, and thy bowmen."

  "Here they come, my Lord!" Guy the Bow announced from among the archers."They all are riding hard as if for a charge."

  A brave array of knights and gentlemen in full armor came fast throughthe dust clouds of their own raising. Beside the foremost horseman rodeone who carried no arms at all. On his head was the plain cap of atradesman, and from under it long white hair came down to his shoulders.He rode firmly despite his years, however, and there was a kind of eagerlight upon his deeply wrinkled face.

  "All is well!" he exclaimed. "My Lord of Wakeham, the prince reachedthem in time, and they are halted."

  "Aye, and I would there were more of them," replied Sir Henry. "Our ownfootmen are long miles behind, and the day is waning."

  "We need night, not day, for the taking of Bruyerre," said the old mangloomily. "Even now we were wise to get into some safe hiding. There isa forest glen to the right of where the prince is waiting."

  In a few minutes more Sir Henry rode to the side of the prince and heldout a hand to Richard.

  "Thy men are in good condition," he said; "and that is as it should be,for they have sharp work before them."

  "Ready are we," said Richard, but his eyes were upon the face of thewhite-haired man.

  He sat in silence, gazing across the valley at the towers and walls ofthe fortress, and he seemed moved by strong emotions.

  "What sayest thou, Giles Monson?" asked the prince. "Are there changes?"

  "In me, my Prince," responded Giles, "but not in yonder town. AChristian man am I this day, and it is not given me to judge, but I am atrue Englishman. With an honest heart and in good faith did I bringsteel wares from Sheffield to the wicked Lord of Bruyerre. False andcruel was he, a robber and a villain. He laughed at me when once I wasin his power. Fourteen years was I a prisoner in yonder keep, and I grewold before my time. Behold the scars of fetters on my wrists. Then wasI a beggar and a starveling in the town for three years more, watchedalways and beaten oft. But I learned every inch of yonder hill, and atlast I made my escape. By the path along which I left Bruyerre can Iguide this army in. But there must be ladders stronger than the cord Icame down upon."

  "A dozen are with our own foot soldiers," said Sir Henry. "But hastenow, lest we be discovered from the castle."

  All riders were dismounting, and Richard went into the woods with hisforest men to seek the glen spoken of by Giles. It was not far to find,and it led on down into the valley.

  The forest growth was old and dense, and, once the soldiery marched wellin, they were completely hidden. Only a strong guard waited at thewayside to intercept all passengers, and here at last came Richard, justas the sun went down.

  "The prince's foot soldiers will arrive soon," said the young leader toGuy the Bow. Ben o' Coventry was peering over the ridge of the hill, andhe came back hastily.

  "Men from the castle, my Captain!" he exclaimed. "A knight, I should sayby his crest, and four esquires, with, mounted serving men a half dozen.The knight, I noted, rideth with visor up."

  "Thinking not of any foe," Richard answered. "We will hide under thetrees and let them go by. Then will we close behind them.
"

  "We could smite them as they come," said Guy.

  "Nay," replied Richard, "lest even so much as one on horseback escape towarn the town."

  Word was sent to the prince, and soon he was there, having posted histroops in the glen, and with him came Sir Henry of Wakeham. It was nomoment for speech, for the French cavalcade came gayly over the hill.

  Silent and motionless, the English in their ambush almost held theirbreath until the party from Bruyerre was a bowshot past them. Then outinto the road they poured as silently, and the trap was set.

  "They will meet our foot right soon," said Sir Henry, "but they will notrisk a charge upon five hundred men. They will come back."

  "Sir Thomas Gifford will render a good account of them, if they do not,"replied the prince.

  Not more than half a mile down the road and around a bend of it, at thathour, pressed on the English foot. At their head rode one knight only,with a few men-at-arms, and not far behind him strode a brawny,red-haired man, who shouted back to those behind him, in Irish:

  "Forward now, ye men of the fens, of Connaught and of Ulster! Yet alittle, and we shall be with our brave boy of the Golden Horn and of LaBelle Calaise, and with the prince and Sir Henry."

  It was the O'Rourke himself, promoted to a better command, with fullleave to arm his giants with axes, in honor of his feats in the seafight. In like manner the rear guard was led by David Griffith, and theweapons of the Welshmen were such as those with which their ancestorshad fought the Roman legions of Caesar and the Saxons of Harold the King.

  "Who cometh?" exclaimed Sir Thomas, for at that moment the party ofFrench from Bruyerre had seen his banner and his ranks, and they hadpromptly turned round to speed back to the castle.

  "The English!" they shouted. "The pirates of Albion! Back to the town!"

  They had no dreams of aught but a swift, unhindered escape; and thegreater was their astonishment to find their way blocked below the hillridge by a dense mass of pikemen and bowmen, in front of whom stood adozen armored knights. There was no use in either flight or fighting;and their leader reversed his lance and rode forward.

  "Yield thee!" rang out in English. "I am Sir Henry of Wakeham."

  "Needs must!" responded the knight in Norman French. "I am Guilbert,Sieur de Cluse. I had visited with Raoul de Bruyerre, my kinsman, and Iwas but riding homeward. Alas, the day!"

  He and his party dismounted and were disarmed. They were doublyastonished at meeting the prince himself with what seemed so small aforce, and the Sieur de Cluse remarked with something of bitterness:

  "Little ye know of the nut ye think to crack. De Bruyerre hath gatheredthree thousand men, and he is provisioned for a siege."

  "Not more than that?" exclaimed the prince. "Glad am I of thy news. Ihad feared he had greater force. We have almost half that number of ourown. The castle and the town are ours!"

  The prisoners were led under the trees, and now the night came on, andit was fairly sure that there would be no more wayfarers. Little morecould be learned, except that all the townspeople were as well armed andready as the garrison.

  Every plan had been well laid beforehand. Only an hour after sunsetdense clouds covered the sky, insuring perfect darkness. Out, down theglen, swept David Griffith and his Welshmen, to seize all roads leadingto the castle gate. Along the highway itself rode the prince and hismounted force--a hundred and thirty steel-clad horsemen. Behind themmarched the greater part of the English foot; but by another path wentSir Henry of Wakeham, Richard Neville, and Sir Thomas Gifford. Withthem were the O'Rourke and two hundred Irish, and two hundred bowmen ofWarwick and Kent. The scaling ladders were with these.

  Away to the right, across fields and through vineyards, Giles Monson ledthe way. He was still unarmed, save for a stout "Sheffield whittle," afoot long, sheathed, in his belt. Hardly a word he spoke until hiscompanions found themselves at the foot of a perpendicular crag.

  "There is a break twenty feet up," he said, "and a flat place. From thatpoint our peril beginneth. Silence, all!"

  A ladder was placed, and up he went like a squirrel. A low whistle washeard as he reached the top of the ladder; the signal came from Richard,just behind him. Next came a clang of steel, for the heir of Wartmonthad smitten down a half-slumbering sentinel.

  Up poured the English, headed by Sir Henry; they brought a second ladderwith them and others were placing it at the foot of the crag.

  Up went the ladder, and on it the English climbed fast.]

  "A shorter ladder will do for this next mounting," whispered GilesMonson. "Then there is a wall, but sentries are seldom posted there."

  Hardly had he spoken before a voice above them hailed in French:

  "Who cometh there?"

  A flight of arrows answered him, and no second question came down. Upwent the ladder and on it the English climbed fast. The wall, when theyreached it, was but a dozen feet high, and was hardly an obstacle.Beyond it Sir Henry halted until many men stood beside him. Then hespoke in a low tone.

  "Pass the word," he said. "Pause not for aught, but follow me to thecastle and the town gate. We must win that and let in the prince, thoughall die who are here."

  He strode forward then, and ever in front of him went Giles Monson, hiscap in his hand and his white hair flying.

  Few lights were burning in any of the buildings, for it was long aftercurfew. There were no wayfarers along the narrow, winding streetsthrough which, avoiding the middle of the town, Giles Monson guided theEnglish. Hardly a weapon clanged, and no word was spoken, for every manknew that if an alarm were given too soon so small a force would beoverwhelmed and all must die.

  "Yon is the gate," whispered Giles at last. "'Tis a fort of itself, andit needs must have a strong guard."

  "They are on the watch for foes from without," said Sir Henry. "RichardNeville, show thyself a good man-at-arms! Charge in at yonder portalwith thy Irish, and we will form behind thee and press on to open thetown gates and hold them."

  The O'Rourke heard the command and he whistled shrilly to his men; stillin front of Richard, through the deep gloom, flitted the white-hairedguide, for the portal at which Sir Henry pointed; to the left was theopen gate of the great tower, the donjon keep, the citadel of Bruyerre.A moat there was, but the bridge was in place, and the guards in armorwere lolling lazily.

  "Charge! For the king!" shouted Richard, as he sprang swiftly along thebridge; he dashed past the guards and was within the portal before theycould draw their swords. Down they went under the Irish axes, and so theentrance to the keep was won. Then the fighting began, for there weremany brave men in the citadel of Bruyerre and they were awaking. Butthey came out of their quarters in sudden bewilderment, singly or insquads, and in the dim light they at first hardly knew friend from foe.Scores were smitten in utter darkness by unseen hands, and everywherewere panic and confusion among the defenders.

  "On!" shouted Giles Monson. "My Lord of Wartmont, I lead thee to thechamber of De Bruyerre!"

  They were at the head of a flight of stairs, and before them was a longpassage lighted by hanging lamps. Into the passage had rushed out--fromthe sleeping rooms on either side--a dozen swordsmen, and some of themhad bucklers. Well was it for Richard then that Guy the Bow and theLongwood foresters had believed it their duty to follow their own youngcaptain, for otherwise he had been almost alone. From the archerswhizzed shaft after shaft, and hardly did he cross swords with anyknight before the Frenchman's blade fell from his hand.

  One towering form in a long blue robe was behind the others.

  "Who are ye, in Heaven's name?" he had shouted. "St. Denis, they arefiends!"

  "My Lord Raoul de Bruyerre," fiercely responded Giles Monson, "'tis thevengeance of Heaven upon thy false heart and thy cruelty. I am thySheffield man, thou robber!"

  "Yield thee, my Lord of Bruyerre!" shouted Richard; but along thepassage darted Giles Monson, bent on revenge.

  "Thou art the traitor!" cried De Bruyerre, and drawing his sword hesprang to strike
down the advancing Englishman. Too eager to heed hisown safety, Giles Monson leaped upon the French knight and struckfiercely with his long dagger.

  Both weapons reached their marks.

  "Thou villain, thou hast slain the knight!" cried Richard. "He mighthave surrendered."

  But Giles Monson had fallen beneath the sword of his victim, and wouldnever speak more.

  "Stay not here!" Richard commanded. "Follow me! The keep is not halftaken."

  It was but the truth, and yet the remaining fight was only to make allsure. One strong party of French soldiers was beaten because theyrallied in the great hall and were helplessly penned in as soon as themassive doors were shut and braced on the outside.

  "Rats in a trap!" said Ben o' Coventry, as he forced down a thick plankto hold a door. "We need not slay one of them."

  "I would I knew how it fareth with the prince," said Richard. "Lightevery lamp and beacon. I will go to the portal."

  Prince Edward and they who were with him were men certain to give a goodaccount of themselves, but they had been none too many. The warders atthe town-wall gate had been small hindrance. The moment the huge oakenwings swung back upon their hinges, up went the portcullis, out shot thebridge across the deep, black moat, and the blast of Sir Henry's hornwas answered by the rapid thud of hoofs as the prince led on hismen-at-arms.

  "Straight for the middle square!" he shouted. "Onward to the keep!"

  "It is ours if Richard Neville be still living," calmly returned theknight. "Hark! the shouts--the uproar!"

  "Sir Thomas Gifford," commanded the prince, "go to him. Take tenmen-at-arms. We must win the keep!"

  On then he led his gallant men along the street, but when they reachedthe central square the French also were pouring into it from all sides.Save for their utter surprise they would have made a better fight, butat the first onset the English lances scattered their hasty array likechaff. Horsemen they had almost none, and their knights who fought onfoot were but half-armored.

  Now also David Griffith and his Welshmen had arrived within the walls,and it seemed to the defenders of Bruyerre that their foemen were amultitude. A band of mercenaries from Alsace, three hundred strong,penned in a side street, surrendered without a blow at the firstwhizzing of the English arrows.

  Sir Thomas Gifford was standing at the portal of the castle, and he sawa man in armor come hastily out into a light that shone beyond.

  "Richard Neville," he asked, "how is it with thee? Art thou beaten?"

  "The keep is ours," called back Richard; "but I have too many prisoners.There were six hundred men."

  "St. George for England!" cried the astonished knight. "Thou hast donea noble deed of arms!"

  "But Raoul de Bruyerre is dead, and so is Giles Monson, he who guidedus," continued Richard. "How fareth the prince?"

  "Go thou to him with thy good news," replied Sir Thomas. "I will takecommand here and finish thy work."

  "Let us not remain with Sir Thomas," exclaimed the O'Rourke, behindRichard, "if there is to be more fighting."

  "Nay, thou and thy kerns are garrison of the keep," said Sir Thomas.

  So the hot-headed Irish chieftain had to bide behind stone walls to hisgreat chagrin, while Richard went out gladly, with but a small party, tohunt for the prince through the shadowy, tumultuous streets of thehalf-mad town of Bruyerre.

  There were faces at window crevices, and there were men and women inhalf-opened doorways. Richard continually announced to them, as had beenthe general order of the prince:

  "In! In! Quarter to all who keep their houses, and death to all who comeout!"

  Brave as might be the burghers of Bruyerre, not many of those who heardcared to rush out alone, to be speared or cut down.

  Before this, nevertheless, enough had gathered at one point to feelsome courage; and into this band Richard was compelled to charge.

  With him were barely a dozen axemen and bowmen, yet he shouted in NormanFrench, as if to some larger force behind:

  "Onward, men of Kent! forward quickly! Bid the Irish hasten! St. Georgefor England! For the king!"

  The burghers had no captain, and they hardly knew their own number inthe gloom. 'Twas a hot rush of desperate men against those who wereirresolute. The burghers broke and fled to their houses, and on wentRichard, having lost only a few of his small force.

  The garrison had rallied faster and faster, and now almost surrounded inthe square were the prince and his knights. Little they cared. Indeed,Sir Henry of Wakeham had said:

  "What do you advise, my Lord Prince? We might even cut our way back tothe castle, if we were sure of it. If we have that, we have command ofthe town."

  "Hold your own here," replied the prince; "I think they give waysomewhat."

  Just then a band of bowmen, who had cleared out a side street, cameforth as Richard went by.

  "With me!" he called to them. "Let us join the prince. Beware how yesend your shafts into yonder _melee_, lest ye harm a friend!"

  "Hark!" exclaimed Sir Henry. "It is Richard Neville! They have beatenhim. Where can Sir Thomas be? I fear there is black tidings!"

  "Fight on!" replied the prince. "At all events he bringeth us somehelp."

  Closely aimed arrows, well-thrown spears, cleaving of sword and axe werehelp indeed; but better than all was the clear, ringing voice ofRichard, in English first, and then in Norman French:

  "My Lord the Prince, we have the keep and castle! Sir Thomas Giffordholdeth it. De Bruyerre is killed. His men are dead or taken. Bid thesefools here surrender. They have naught for which to fight."

  "God and St. George for England!" roared Sir Henry of Wakeham.

  "Hail to thee, Richard Neville!" sang out the prince. "Victory! The townis ours! Bruyerre is taken!"

  All the Frenchmen heard, as well as all the English. What was joy to oneparty was utter discouragement to the other.

  "Surrender!" commanded the prince. "The fool who fighteth now hath hisblood upon his own head!"

  Spears were lowered, swords were sheathed, crossbows were dropped, bravemen-at-arms gave their names to Sir Henry and his knights, and the perilin the great square was over.

  "Well for us," coolly remarked Sir Henry. "The guards from the rampartswere arriving. My Lord of Cluse did not rightly number the garrison."

  Nor had the English believed that so many townsmen could turn out sospeedily. Nevertheless, when arms were given up the Frenchmen were nolonger soldiers, and their numbers were of no more value.

  "Richard Neville, I will well commend thee to my father! I think he willgive thee thy spurs."

  So spake the prince, with his hands on the shoulders of his friend, andlooking into his face admiringly.

  "Prince Edward," broke out the heir of Wartmont warmly, "I have donelittle. The taking of Bruyerre is thine. It was all thy plan."

  "Mine? Nay," said the prince. "The best of it was prepared by Raoul deBruyerre, when he held Giles Monson wickedly, that now an Englishmanmight be ready to let us in. So did his evil deed come back to hisruin."

  "Aye," said Sir Henry; "but the dawn is in the sky, and the troops mustbe stationed fast. We will not stay to sack the town; but there arestores to gather, and there are knights of high degree to put to ransom.We have work to do."

  So, quickly and wisely, went out the commands of the English captains,and the prize was made secure before the sun was an hour high.

  Bitter enough was then the shame and wrath of knights and nobles of thegarrison, as they learned by how small a force their great strongholdhad been surprised and taken. It should have been held for a year, theysaid, against all the army of King Edward.

  All that bright summer day the business of sending away the garrison andof securing the best plunder of Bruyerre went industriously forward; butit was not in the hands of the Black Prince. Hardly had he finishedeating a good repast in the castle, after having had courteous speechwith Madame of Bruyerre and her household, before he gave command:

  "Sir Robert Clifton, I appoint thee to the c
are of this place until Isend thee orders from the king. He is now twelve miles away, and I mustgive him a report of this affair. Sir Henry and Gifford and Neville willgo with me."

  It was to horse and mount, then, while Robert Clifton cared forBruyerre. The sun was looking down upon the midday halting of KingEdward's own division of his army, when his son and his companions stoodbefore him to tell him what they had done, and how.

  Close and searching, as became a good general, were the questions of theking; but when all was done Sir Henry of Wakeham spoke boldly:

  "Sire, is it not to be said that thy son and Richard Neville have inthis feat of arms well earned their spurs and chain of knighthood?"

  "Truly!" came low but earnestly from Richard's uncle, the Earl ofWarwick.

  There was no smile upon the firm lips of the king, whatever his proudeyes might seem to say, and he replied:

  "Not so, my good companion in arms. Think of thine own battles, many andhard fought. It were not well to forward them too fast. Neither myEdward nor Richard of Wartmont shall wear spurs until they have stoodthe brunt of one great passage of arms. Leave but a fair garrison inBruyerre, for none will trouble them. We will march on to seek the fieldwhere we may meet the host of Philip of Valois. Word hath arrived thathe is coming with all haste."

  Forward, therefore, moved the forces of the king, and with them rode thetwo young companions in arms as simple squires; but the mighty fieldwhereon they were to win their spurs was only a few days in the future.

  FOOTNOTE:

  [A] The kern was a light-armed foot soldier, who usually carried a spearand knife.