CHAPTER V
THE MEN OF HAMPSHIRE AND THE GENOESE GALLEY
HAVING given orders to some of his followers to convey the woundedmen on litters to the shelter of Netley Abbey, the Constable and histroops resumed their march to the shore, to aid their advance-guardin the pursuit of the galleys.
The lances and mounted archers had already galloped along the rightbank of the river towards the Salterns at its mouth; while a body ofmen-at-arms crossed the stream by means of the abandoned boats, andfollowed the galleys on the other shore.
As if by magic, the men-at-arms were joined by vast numbers ofcountrymen from the neighbouring villages of Hook, Swanwick,Titchfield, and Stubbington. All of them were tolerably good bowmen,and from both sides of the stream a well-directed fire of arrows wasmaintained on the fugitive vessels.
The wind, though favourable to the English ships that were rapidlynearing the scene of action, was too much abeam to enable the galleysto hoist their sails, and the slaves toiled at the oars to gain theopen water. Thus sped, and with the favouring tide, the vesselsslipped rapidly past the shore.
Many an anxious eye was turned towards the advancing English ships,and many an opinion was offered upon the foreigners' chances, foronce they weathered the long mud spit, their sails would be hoistedand their superior speed would soon bear them out of sight.
Holding their own, yet scarcely able to reply to the stinging hail ofarrows, the three galleys bore steadily onwards. The foremost,bearing the red cross of Genoa emblazoned upon its lofty stern, ledthe forlorn procession, a Spaniard being second, while in the rearfloundered a French vessel, one of the famous fleet of Sluys, hersides, like those of her consorts, bristling with English arrows.
Soon the leading vessel, ill-judging her distance, turned towards theSolent, hoisting her huge sail, on which flamed the arms of LuigiSpinola. Shouts of anger and disappointment rose from the English asthey saw the sail drawing, and the hated Genoese cleaving through thewater with increased speed. But their cries quickly turned into aroar of delight as the galley ran hard and fast upon the treacherousand unseen mud-bank, her mast going by the board with a resoundingcrash!
In spite of the frantic efforts of the rowers, the crew were unableto back the long, snake-like hull from the deadly embrace of the mud,and with the fast falling tide it was evident that the galley wasdoomed to capture.
Taking warning from their consort's misfortune, the other vesselsgave her a wide berth, and, avoiding the mud spit, turnedsouth-eastward. The Spaniard hoisted her sail with all speed, thewhite foam flying from her sharp bows; but the French galley, havinghad her halliards cut through by a chance bolt, was soon overhauledby the Southampton ships.
In less than five minutes she was boarded on both quarters andcarried, the Frenchmen being either slain or driven overboard, andthe watchers on shore beheld the Cross of St. George hoisted over theFleur-de-Lys. A fanfare of trumpets from the conquering vesselsannounced that the English mariners had again proved themselvesworthy of their traditions.
The prize and three of the English ships anchored to await afavourable tide to bear them back to the town of Southampton, whilethe two remaining vessels stood towards the stranded galley of Genoa.The tide had now left her high and dry, with a slight list towardsthe sea, at two hundred paces from the nearest shore. Thedeep-draughted English ships could not approach within that distance,so they were compelled to cast anchor within easy bow-shot.
Under the terrible cross-fire the galley remained, her crew seekingshelter from the shower of arrows, not daring to show so much as ahair above the low bulwarks.
BOARDING THE GENOESE GALLEY]
"By our Lady! The rogues lie close," exclaimed the Constable. "'Tisbut a waste of good arrows. And yet we must have at them ere long,for already the sun is low in the heavens."
"Once darkness falls they will, of a surety, escape, for with thenext tide they can make across the shallows, where our ships dare notfollow," replied the Bailiff.
"If I mistake not, they left a mangonel behind them----"
"Ay; but 'twould take a good five hours to bring it hither."
Sir John saw the truth of this statement, and puckered his brows inhis perplexity.
"Craving thy pardon, sir," said a grizzled man-at-arms, standingwithin earshot of the two officers, "I know how the galley can beheld till the morrow."
"How so, sirrah?" demanded the Constable.
"For over thirty years I was a marshman of Poole----"
"Forbear to speak of what thou hast been," replied Sir John Hacketcurtly, "and tell us what thou dolt propose to do."
"As a marshman I know how to walk over this mud. Give me leave, withfive of my comrades, and I'll warrant that the galley will neverfloat again."
"How can the man possibly reach the vessel by walking on the mud?"demanded Lord Willoughby, who at that moment had joined the Constablein order to confer with him on a plan of action. "Even now two scoreor more of the knaves lie swallowed up by the filthy slime."
"Let him have his way, my Lord," replied the Constable; "and," headded, addressing the soldier, "get ye gone, and do your workquickly. A rose-noble apiece shall be your reward if ye succeed."
The man-at-arms departed, and, with his chosen comrades, crossed theriver and followed the bank till they came as close to the galley asthey could without leaving the firm ground.
Here they divested themselves of their armour, and, clad in theirleather jerkins, gripping no other weapon but a heavy hammer and ashort iron spike apiece, they looked more like peaceful villagesmiths than soldiers setting out on a desperate venture.
From the rude huts where the Hamble fishermen kept their stores camea man bearing a dozen square boards, each having four small holesbored through it with leathern thongs attached. These themen-at-arms, with the quickness of frequent use, bound to their feet.
"Are ye ready, comrades?"
A gruff yet determined assent was given, and the men, walking withshort, ungainly steps, gained the edge of the mud.
"Now, hark ye," exclaimed their leader, turning to the master-bowmanwho commanded the archers, "give the word that the bowmen keep up adropping fire to cover our approach. And I pray thee, let no manshoot who cannot be depended upon, for, little as I reck a shaft infair fight, I am not in a mind to be feathered in the back by anEnglish arrow!"
The sun was now low down beyond the dark outlines of the New Forest,shining straight into the eyes of the archers. Nevertheless, theyshot rapidly and well, the arrows making graceful curves as they spedtowards the mark. No sign of life was visible on board the Genoeseship, as slowly and steadily the six men-at-arms plodded, with theirboards squelching in the liquid mud, towards their goal.
As they drew near, the covering volleys ceased; but, suspecting a ruseto draw them from shelter, the Genoese refused to show themselves.Thus, without opposition, the Englishmen reached the shelter of thelofty hull of the stranded galley, so that they were protected by herbulging sides from any missile the enemy might launch overboard.
Soon the terrified crew were still more panic-stricken by hearing asuccession of dull blows against their ship's side. Lustily swingingtheir mauls as well as their precarious foothold would allow, theEnglishmen drove their iron spikes deep into the seams of the doomedvessel. Oaken tree-nails and iron bolts were unable to stand thewrench, and in a few moments a gaping hole four ells in length and aspan in breadth proved that the boast of the man-at-arms that thegalley would never again float was an accomplished fact.
But now the startled crew were lashed into active resistance. Overthe side, lowered by stout ropes, came the figure of a man fully cladin plate armour--the dreaded Luigi Spinola himself. Though deprivedof the sight of one eye and nearly blind in the other--thanks toRedward Buckland's reception at the attack on his house--the Genoeseknight could dimly see the forms of his attackers, and that sufficed.
Before the Englishmen could realise their danger the keen blade ofthe Italian had cleft the skull of the nearest. Prevent
ing himselffrom turning like a sack at the end of a rope, Spinola stretched outhis left hand to steady himself against the side of the vessel, whilehe raised his right arm to repeat the deadly stroke. One of themen-at-arms seized his opportunity, and floundering in on theknight's blind side, smashed his gauntleted left hand into ashapeless mass by a blow from his maul.
With a roar of agony and fury his arm fell helpless against his side,his body swung round, and in a moment the heavy hammer againdescended, this time on the visor of the knight's bascinet. With agroan the Genoese died--literally at the rope's end; and, their workaccomplished, the five Englishmen began their hazardous retreat,leaving the body of their hapless companion slowly sinking in thepitiless mire.
Again the covering flight of arrows sped towards the galley; but, withthe courage of despair, some of the Genoese crossbowmen sprang uponthe towering forecastle and fired at the retreating men-at-arms. Oneof the latter fell with a heavy bolt between his shoulder-blades;another had a shaft completely transfixing his arm, while theirintrepid leader was menaced by two of the best crossbowmen of thegalley.
By pure chance a stray arrow pierced the brain of one of the Genoesejust as he was about to pull the trigger. As he fell he struck hiscompanion, whose aim was affected by the sudden jolt, and the quarrelflew aimlessly over the Englishmen's heads.
Unable to stand against the arrows of the English bowmen, theremainder of the Genoese again sought shelter in the waist, and, amidthe cheers of their comrades, the four men-at-arms regained theshore.
All that night the English slept on their arms, sentinels beingposted to give the alarm should any of the foemen attempt to leavetheir water-logged craft. It was a still, moonless night, and thetime of spring tides, and as the water ran inch by inch over thewaist of the doomed galley, the watchers could distinctly hear thecries and lamentations, and appeals to the saints, borne on the nightair from the demoralised Crew, as they clustered in frightened groupsupon the raised forecastle and poop.
At break of day the Englishmen stood at their arms and gazed seaward.There, in the same place, lay the galley, though sunk a little lowerin the mud, while her sides were covered with seaweed that on the nowfalling tide had been caught by the arrows which bristled in hersides.
Plenty of provisions were brought in from the countryside for theEnglish forces, and, seated round roaring fires, for the morning airwas sharp even for the time of year, the archers and men-at-arms ateand were merry, while the famished and disheartened Genoese, theirstores spoiled by the water in the hold, gazed despairingly on theirimplacable enemies.
The Constable of Portchester and the Bailiff of Southampton crossedthe river about three hours after daybreak, and visited the troops onthe east side of the stream, their arrival being greeted withacclamation.
Calling the remnant of the men-at-arms who had so effectuallyperformed their hazardous task, Sir John Hacket thanked them beforetheir comrades and bestowed upon them the promised guerdon.
"We have these Genoese rascals safe enough!" exclaimed the Constable."But what do they?"
At that moment there were signs of activity in the galley. Men werebusily engaged in cutting away the broken mast and its tangled gearand cordage, while others were seen to be dividing the great sailinto long strips.
"They mean to stop the leaks by nailing the flaxen cloth over theoutside," replied Walter de Brakkeleye. "Then, perchance, they canfloat off on the next tide."
"But to what purpose?" questioned the knight. "With our two shipslying in the stream how can they, without mast and sail, hope toescape?"
"I know not, Sir Knight, except it be to forestall the end, and theywould close with us."
"Then, I pray you, make them desist. A score of archers will keepthem in play; in the meantime send mounted messengers along the banksto order every boat in the river to be sent down without delay!"
These orders were promptly carried out, and long before the next highwater twenty open boats of all sizes were lying off the Hard, whilethe Constable had already summoned the masters of the two Southamptonships to confer with them on the plan of attack.
"By St. George!" exclaimed Sir John, "I already see the remnants ofthese foreign scoundrels under lock and key in the King's Castle ofPortchester!"
"Nay, by the Rood!" replied Walter Brakkeleye; "for I have sworn that,ere to-morrow's sun hath set, the rogues will grace a line of gibbetsoutside the Water Gate of Southampton!"
"Ah, an' ye would flout my authority?" demanded the choleric knight."Am I, Constable of Portchester and Governor of the town ofPortsmouth, to be overridden by a mere Bailiff of Southampton?"
"But the galley now lies in this river, which is within mybailiwick," retorted Brakkeleye stoutly. "Nay, she lies on the otherside of the low water channel, which, you will accept, is within thebailiwick of Titchfield. That being so, as Governor I hold authorityover that half of the river."
The dispute waxed hot, the question of precedence outweighing thecommon cause of destroying a national foe. To what length thedisputants would have gone it is impossible to say, but the opportunearrival of Lord Willoughby and Sir Charles Bassett settled the wordystrife.
"'Tis our duty to settle our account with the Genoese," quoth LordWilloughby. "And as ye both claim the river and all it contains,methinks your difference is best settled thus--all the prisonerstaken on this side shall belong to the Bailiff of Southampton; allthose who are taken on yonder side Sir John can hale to the castle ofPortchester. Now be content and sink your differences in a commoncause."
This they agreed to, little knowing that neither authority would inthe end claim a single Genoese.
Directly the tide served the boats were filled with men-at-arms andarchers, and a long procession rowed down the stream to carry thegalley by escalade, a mantlet being raised in each boat to protectthe men from any arrows or bolts that might assail them.
Already the sea was four feet deep over the mud, and the galley, herwaist full of water and her bulwarks awash amidships, resembled twolofty castles joined by a low wooden wall.
Grim and determined, though faint with hunger and fatigue, theGenoese stood to their arms. Knowing that death in some form awaitedthem, they preferred to die in the heat of battle to dangling from agallows. On the aftercastle, or poop, stood Guido and Andrea Spinola,brothers of the ill-fated Luigi, with two score men-at-arms and anumber of lightly-armed slaves, though the latter were not to berelied upon. On the forecastle nearly a like number clustered roundSimon and Chigi Doria, brothers of the famous Rafaele Doria, theruler of the State of Genoa.
On the approach of the English the trumpets blared a note ofdefiance, and the noble leaders, drawing their swords, cast theirscabbards into the sea as a sign that they scorned to give or acceptquarter.
The poop, being nearest the deep water, was the first object ofattack. The English archers fired but one volley, then, casting asidetheir bows, drew sword or grasped their hammers and axes and madeready to spring directly the boats ran alongside the galley.
A huge stone, thrown from the highest part of the after-castle, camecrashing through the bottom of the first boat, which instantly sank.Those of her crew who were unable to maintain their foothold on thesubmerged boat perished miserably in the mud and water, for those inthe other boats, filled with the mad desire of fight, paid slightheed to their misfortunes, being only intent on gaining a foothold ontheir enemy's decks.
In a short space the after-part of the galley was surrounded by ninelarge boats, while the remaining ten headed for the forecastle, andwith shouts of fury the English strove to effect an entrance.
The lofty sides and stern rendered their task very difficult andhazardous, the Genoese striking lustily with sword, axe, and macewhenever a foeman's head appeared, and it was not until, by Sir JohnHacket's order, a portion of the amidship bulwarks were cut throughand some of the boats floated over the submerged waist, that a livingEnglishman stood on the decks of the Genoese.
Headed by the Constable, a party of men-at-arms car
ried the poopladder by a determined rush and gained the poop. Here they were metby Guido and Andrea Spinola and some of the best swordsmen amongstthe Genoese, and for a while a fierce struggle ensued, though,profiting by the diversion, another party of Englishmen secured afoothold on the stern of the galley.
Unable to withstand the sweeping blows of the Constable's sword, theGenoese gave back, two of their number going down with theirheadpieces shattered and their skulls cleft to the chin, and Guidoand Andrea alone remained in the van to bar the Englishman's passage.
With lightning rapidity their blades met, Sir John warding off thedouble attack with marvellous skill. Suddenly the elder brother,putting all his strength into the blow, delivered a mighty strokewith his heavy sword at the Constable's head.
Stepping nimbly aside, the knight avoided the deadly sweep of theweapon, and ere the Italian could recover himself Sir John cut himthrough the gorget till the blade met the top of his enemy'sbreastplate.
Guido fell forward, and the Constable, unable to withdraw his weaponfrom the corpse, was obliged to relinquish his sword and take to hismace. With this ponderous instrument of offence Sir John pressed hisantagonist so strongly that the latter could but attempt to guardhimself. At last, with a crashing blow, the Englishman beat down thedefence of the Genoese, shattering his sword and crushing his helmetlike an egg-shell.
Disheartened by the fall of both their leaders, and pressed beforeand behind by increasing numbers, the Genoese retreated till theygathered in a small ring of steel, surrounded by their incensedattackers. Fighting to the last, they fell, till none but thosewearing the surcoat of St. George stood upon the after-castle, andclose on five score bodies littered the narrow blood-stained poop.
By the Constable's order one of his squires displayed his banner, andthis was the signal for a hearty cheer from the crews of the twoSouthampton ships and the crowd of armed men on shore.
But the combat was not yet over. Those of the forecastle stillstoutly resisted, and as yet none of the Southampton men, headed bythe brave and impetuous Walter de Brakkeleye, had gained anyadvantage, though, by the Bailiff's order, some of the archers hadrowed a short distance off, firing anew on the Genoese whenever theyattempted to show themselves above the side.
With the fall of the after-castle, the Genoese were additionallyassailed by the English bowmen, who now held the captured part of thegalley; and, on the arrival of a fresh supply of arrows, the deadlyhail smote the scanty remnant, who strove in vain to seek shelter.
At length, when no one was left standing upon the forecastle, theEnglish men-at-arms rushed the hardwon stronghold, mercilesslykilling those who yet remained alive, and casting their bodiesoverboard, and the shattered galley was given to the flames.
Then, with shouts and rejoicings, the soldiers returned to the shore.The countrymen dispersed to their homes, the two English shipshoisted sail and made for Southampton, whither Lord Willoughby'slances had already gone. The Constable of Portchester and the Bailiffof Southampton marshalled their followers, and marched through thedevastated village towards their camp at Woolston.
All that was left to mark the raid were the charred remains of whathad been a prosperous hamlet and the blazing timbers of theonce-dreaded galley of Luigi Spinola.
The Winning of the Golden Spurs Page 6