The Betrothed

Chapter 8

'Twas when ye raised,' mid sap and siege,

The banner of your rightful liege

At your she captain's call,

Who, miracle of womankind,

Lent mettle to the meanest hind

That mann'd her castle wall.

WILLIAM STEWART ROSE.

The morning light was scarce fully spread abroad, when Eveline

Berenger, in compliance with her confessor's advice, commenced her

progress around the walls and battlements of the beleaguered

castle, to confirm, by her personal entreaties, the minds of the

valiant, and to rouse the more timid to hope and to exertion. She

wore a rich collar and bracelets, as ornaments which indicated her

rank--and high descent; and her under tunic, in the manner of the

times, was gathered around her slender waist by a girdle,

embroidered with precious stones, and secured by a large buckle of

gold. From one side of the girdle was suspended a pouch or purse,

splendidly adorned with needle-work, and on the left side it

sustained a small dagger of exquisite workmanship. A dark-coloured

mantle, chosen as emblematic of her clouded fortunes, was flung

loosely around her; and its hood was brought forward, so as to

shadow, but not hide, her beautiful countenance. Her looks had

lost the high and ecstatic expression which had been inspired by

supposed revelation, but they retained a sorrowful and mild, yet

determined character--and, in addressing the soldiers, she used a

mixture of entreaty and command--now throwing herself upon their

protection--now demanding in her aid the just tribute of their

allegiance.

The garrison was divided, as military skill dictated, in groups,

on the points most liable to attack, or from which an assailing

enemy might be best annoyed; and it was this unavoidable

separation of their force into small detachments, which showed to

disadvantage the extent of walls, compared with the number of the

defenders; and though Wilkin Flammock had contrived several means

of concealing this deficiency of force from the enemy, he could

not disguise it from the defenders of the castle, who cast

mournful glances on the length of battlements which were

unoccupied save by sentinels, and then looked out to the fatal

field of battle, loaded with the bodies of those who ought to have

been their comrades in this hour of peril.

The presence of Eveline did much to rouse the garrison from this

state of discouragement. She glided from post to post, from tower

to tower of the old gray fortress, as a gleam of light passes over

a clouded landscape, and touching its various points in

succession, calls them out to beauty and effect. Sorrow and fear

sometimes make sufferers eloquent. She addressed the various

nations who composed her little garrison, each in appropriate

language. To the English, she spoke as children of the soil--to

the Flemings, as men who had become denizens by the right of

hospitality--to the Normans, as descendants of that victorious

race, whose sword had made them the nobles and sovereigns of every

land where its edge had been tried. To them she used the language

of chivalry, by whose rules the meanest of that nation regulated,

or affected to regulate, his actions. The English she reminded of

their good faith and honesty of heart; and to the Flemings she

spoke of the destruction of their property, the fruits of their

honest industry. To all she proposed vengeance for the death of

their leader and his followers--to all she recommended confidence

in God and Our Lady of the Garde Doloureuse; and she ventured to

assure all, of the strong and victorious bands that were already

in march to their relief.

"Will the gallant champions of the cross," she said, "think of

leaving their native land, while the wail of women and of orphans

is in their ears?--it were to convert their pious purpose into

mortal sin, and to derogate from the high fame they have so well

won. Yes--fight but valiantly, and perhaps, before the very sun

that is now slowly rising shall sink in the sea, you will see it

shining on the ranks of Shrewsbury and Chester. When did the

Welshmen wait to hear the clangour of their trumpets, or the

rustling of their silken banners? Fight bravely--fight freely but

awhile!--our castle is strong--our munition ample--your hearts are

good--your arms are powerful--God is nigh to us, and our friends

are not far distant. Fight, then, in the name of all that is good

and holy--fight for yourselves, for your wives, for your children,

and for your property--and oh! fight for an orphan maiden, who

hath no other defenders but what a sense of her sorrows, and the

remembrance of her father, may raise up among you."

Such speeches as these made a powerful impression on the men to

whom they were addressed, already hardened, by habits and

sentiments, against a sense of danger. The chivalrous Normans

swore, on the cross of their swords, they would die to a man ere

they would surrender their posts--the blunter Anglo-Saxons cried,

"Shame on him who would render up such a lamb as Eveline to a

Welsh wolf, while he could make her a bulwark with his body!"--

Even the cold Flemings caught a spark of the enthusiasm with which

the others were animated, and muttered to each other praises of

the young lady's beauty, and short but honest resolves to do the

best they might in her defence.

Rose Flammock, who accompanied her lady with one or two attendants

upon her circuit around the castle, seemed to have relapsed into

her natural character of a shy and timid girl, out of the excited

state into which she had been brought by the suspicions which in

the evening before had attached to her father's character. She

tripped closely but respectfully after Eveline, and listened to

what she said from time to time, with the awe and admiration of a

child listening to its tutor, while only her moistened eye

expressed how far she felt or comprehended the extent of the

danger, or the force of the exhortations. There was, however, a

moment when the youthful maiden's eye became more bright, her step

more confident, her looks more elevated. This was when they

approached the spot where her father, having discharged the duties

of commander of the garrison, was now exercising those of

engineer, and displaying great skill, as well as wonderful

personal strength, in directing and assisting the establishment of

a large mangonel, (a military engine used for casting stones,)

upon a station commanding an exposed postern gate, which led from

the western side of the castle down to the plain; and where a

severe assault was naturally to be expected. The greater part of

his armour lay beside him, but covered with his cassock to screen

it from morning dew; while in his leathern doublet, with arms bare

to the shoulder, and a huge sledge-hammer in his hand, he set an

example to the mechanics who worked under his direction.

In slow and solid natures there is usually a touch of

shamefacedness, and a sensitiveness to the breach of petty

observances. Wilkin Flammock had been unmoved even to

insensibility at the imputation of treason so lately cast upon

him; but he coloured high, and was confused, while, hastily

throwing on his cassock, he endeavoured, to conceal the dishabille

in which he had been surprised by the Lady Eveline. Not so his

daughter. Proud of her father's zeal, her eye gleamed from him to

her mistress with a look of triumph, which seemed to say, "And

this faithful follower is he who was suspected of treachery!"

Eveline's own bosom made her the same reproach; and anxious to

atone for her momentary doubt of his fidelity, she offered for his

acceptance a ring of value; "in small amends," she said, "of a

momentary misconstruction." "It needs not, lady," said Flammock,

with his usual bluntness, "unless I have the freedom to bestow the

gaud on Rose; for I think she was grieved enough at that which

moved me little,--as why should it?"

"Dispose of it as thou wilt," said Eveline; "the stone it bears is

as true as thine own faith."

Here Eveline paused, and looking on the broad expanded plain which

extended between the site of the castle and the river, observed

how silent and still the morning was rising over what had so

lately been a scene of such extensive slaughter.

"It will not be so long," answered Flammock; "we shall have noise

enough, and that nearer to our ears than yesterday."

"Which way lie the enemy?" said Eveline; "methinks I can spy

neither tents nor pavilions."

"They use none, lady," answered Wilkin Flammock. "Heaven has

denied them the grace and knowledge to weave linen enough for such

a purpose--Yonder they lie on both sides of the river, covered

with nought but their white mantles. Would one think that a host

of thieves and cut-throats could look so like the finest object in

nature--a well-spread bleaching-field!--Hark!--hark--the wasps are

beginning to buzz; they will soon be plying their stings."

In fact, there was heard among the Welsh army a low and indistinct

murmur, like that of

"Bees alarmed and arming in their hives."

Terrified at the hollow menacing sound, which grew louder every

moment, Rose, who had all the irritability of a sensitive

temperament, clung to her father's arm, saying, in a terrified

whisper, "It is like the sound of the sea the night before the

great inundation."

"And it betokens too rough weather for woman to be abroad in,"

said Flammock. "Go to your chamber, Lady Eveline, if it be your

will--and go you too, Roschen--God bless you both--ye do but keep

us idle here."

And, indeed, conscious that she had done all that was incumbent

upon her, and fearful lest the chill which she felt creeping over

her own heart should infect others, Eveline took her vassal's

advice, and withdrew slowly to her own apartment, often casting

back her eye to the place where the Welsh, now drawn out and under

arms, were advancing their ridgy battalions, like the waves of an

approaching tide.

The Prince of Powys had, with considerable military skill, adopted

a plan of attack suitable to the fiery genius of his followers,

and calculated to alarm on every point the feeble garrison.

The three sides of the castle which were defended by the river,

were watched each by a numerous body of the British, with

instructions to confine themselves to the discharge of arrows,

unless they should observe that some favourable opportunity of

close attack should occur. But far the greater part of Gwenwyn's

forces, consisting of three columns of great strength, advanced

along the plain on the western side of the castle, and menaced,

with a desperate assault, the walls, which, in that direction,

were deprived of the defence of the river. The first of these

formidable bodies consisted entirely of archers, who dispersed

themselves in front of the beleaguered place, and took advantage

of every bush and rising ground which could afford them shelter;

and then began to bend their bows and shower their arrows on the

battlements and loop-holes, suffering, however, a great deal more

damage than they were able to inflict, as the garrison returned

their shot in comparative safety, and with more secure and

deliberate aim. [Footnote: The Welsh were excellent bowmen; but,

under favour of Lord Lyttleton, they probably did not use the long

bow, the formidable weapon of the Normans, and afterwards of the

English yeomen. That of the Welsh most likely rather resembled the

bow of the cognate Celtic tribes of Ireland, and of the

Highlanders of Scotland. It was shorter than the Norman long bow,

as being drawn to the breast, not to the ear, more loosely strung,

and the arrow having a heavy iron head; altogether, in short, a

less effective weapon. It appears, from the following anecdote,

that there was a difference between the Welsh arrow and those of

the English.

In 1122, Henry the II., marching into Powys-Land to chastise

Meredith ap Blethyn and certain rebels, in passing a defile, was

struck by an arrow on the breast. Repelled by the excellence of

his breast-plate, the shaft fell to the ground. When the King felt

the blow, and saw the shaft, he swore his usual oath, by the death

of our Lord, that the arrow came not from a Welsh but an English

bow; and, influenced by this belief hastily put an end to the

war.] Under cover, however, of their discharge of arrows, two very

strong bodies of Welsh attempted to carry the outer defences of

the castle by storm. They had axes to destroy the palisades, then

called barriers; faggots to fill up the external ditches; torches

to set fire to aught combustible which they might find; and, above

all, ladders to scale the walls.

These detachments rushed with incredible fury towards the point of

attack, despite a most obstinate defence, and the great loss which

they sustained by missiles of every kind, and continued the

assault for nearly an hour, supplied by reinforcements which more

than recruited their diminished numbers. When they were at last

compelled to retreat, they seemed to adopt a new and yet more

harassing species of attack. A large body assaulted one exposed

point of the fortress with such fury as to draw thither as many of

the besieged as could possibly be spared from other defended

posts, and when there appeared a point less strongly manned than

was adequate to defence, that, in its turn, was furiously assailed

by a separate body of the enemy.

Thus the defenders of the Garde Doloureuse resembled the

embarrassed traveller, engaged in repelling a swarm of hornets,

which, while he brushes them, from one part, fix in swarms upon

another, and drive him to despair by their numbers, and the

boldness and multiplicity of their attacks. The postern being of

course a principal point of attack, Father Aldrovand, whose

anxiety would not permit him to be absent from the walls, and who,

indeed, where decency would permit, took an occasional share in

the active defence of the place, hasted thither, as the point

chiefly in danger.

Here he found the Fleming, like a second Ajax, grim with dust and

blood, working with his own hands the great engine which he had

lately helped to erect, and at the same time giving heedful eye to

all the exigencies around.

"How thinkest thou of this day's work?" said the monk in a

whisper.

"What skills it talking of it, father?" replied Flammock; "thou

art no soldier, and I have no time for words."

"Nay, take thy breath," said the monk, tucking up the sleeves of

his frock; "I will try to help thee the whilst--although, our Lady

pity me, I know nothing of these strange devices--not even the

names. But our rule commands us to labour; there can be no harm

therefore, in turning this winch--or in placing this steel-headed

piece of wood opposite to the chord, (suiting his actions to his

words,) nor see I aught uncanonical in adjusting the lever thus,

or in touching the spring."

The large bolt whizzed through the air as he spoke, and was so

successfully aimed, that it struck down a Welsh chief of eminence,

to which Gwenwyn himself was in the act of giving some important

charge.

"Well driven, _trebuchet_--well flown, _quarrel!_" cried

the monk, unable to contain his delight, and giving in his

triumph, the true technical names to the engine, and the javelin

which it discharged.

"And well aimed, monk," added Wilkin Flammock; "I think thou

knowest more than is in thy breviary."

"Care not thou for that," said the father; "and now that thou

seest I can work an engine, and that the Welsh knaves seem

something low in stomach, what think'st thou of our estate?"

"Well enough--for a bad one--if we may hope for speedy succour;

but men's bodies are of flesh, not of iron, and we may be at last

wearied out by numbers. Only one soldier to four yards of wall, is

a fearful odds; and the villains are aware of it, and keep us to

sharp work."

The renewal of the assault here broke off their conversation, nor

did the active enemy permit them to enjoy much repose until

sunset; for, alarming them with repeated menaces of attack upon

different points, besides making two or three formidable and

furious assaults, they left them scarce time to breathe, or to

take a moment's refreshment. Yet the Welsh paid a severe price for

their temerity; for, while nothing could exceed the bravery with

which their men repeatedly advanced to the attack, those which

were made latest in the day had less of animated desperation than

their first onset; and it is probable, that the sense of having

sustained great loss, and apprehension of its effects on the

spirits of his people, made nightfall, and the interruption of the

contest, as acceptable to Gwenwyn as to the exhausted garrison of

the Garde Doloureuse.

But in the camp or leaguer of the Welsh there was glee and

triumph, for the loss of the past day was forgotten in

recollection of the signal victory which had preceded this siege;

and the dispirited garrison could hear from their walls the laugh

and the song, the sound of harping and gaiety, which triumphed by

anticipation over their surrender.

The sun was for some time sunk, the twilight deepened, and night

closed with a blue and cloudless sky, in which the thousand

spangles that deck the firmament received double brilliancy from

some slight touch of frost, although the paler planet, their

mistress, was but in her first quarter. The necessities of the

garrison were considerably aggravated by that of keeping a very

strong and watchful guard, ill according with the weakness of

their numbers, at a time which appeared favourable to any sudden

nocturnal alarm; and, so urgent was this duty, that those who had

been more slightly wounded on the preceding day, were obliged to

take their share in it, notwithstanding their hurts. The monk and

Fleming, who now perfectly understood each other, went in company

around the walls at midnight, exhorting the warders to be

watchful, and examining with their own eyes the state of the

fortress. It was in the course of these rounds, and as they were

ascending an elevated platform by a range of narrow and uneven

steps, something galling to the monk's tread, that they perceived

on the summit to which they were ascending, instead of the black

corslet of the Flemish sentinel who had been placed there, two

white forms, the appearance of which struck Wilkin Flammock with

more dismay than he had shown during any of the doubtful events of

the preceding day's fight.

"Father," he said, "betake yourself to your tools--_es

spuckt_--there are hobgoblins here."

The good father had not learned as a priest to defy the spiritual

host, whom, as a soldier, he had dreaded more than any mortal

enemy; but he began to recite, with chattering teeth, the exorcism

of the church, _"Conjuro vos omnes, spiritus maligni, magni,

atque parvi,"_--when he was interrupted by the voice of

Eveline, who called out, "Is it you, Father Aldrovand?"

Much lightened at heart by finding they had no ghost to deal with,

Wilkin Flammock and the priest advanced hastily to the platform,

where they found the lady with her faithful Rose, the former with

a half-pike in her hand, like a sentinel on duty.

"How is this, daughter?" said the monk; "how came you here, and

thus armed? and where is the sentinel,--the lazy Flemish hound,

that should have kept the post?"

"May he not be a lazy hound, yet not a Flemish one, father?" said

Rose, who was ever awakened by anything which seemed a reflection

upon her country; "methinks I have heard of such curs of English

breed."

"Go to, Rose, you are too malapert for a young maiden," said her

father. "Once more, where is Peterkin Vorst, who should have kept

this post?"

"Let him not be blamed for my fault," said Eveline, pointing to a

place where the Flemish sentinel lay in the shade of the

battlement fast asleep--"He was overcome with toil--had fought

hard through the day, and when I saw him asleep as I came hither,

like a wandering spirit that cannot take slumber or repose, I

would not disturb the rest which I envied. As he had fought for

me, I might, I thought, watch an hour for him; so I took his

weapon with the purpose of remaining here till some one should

come to relieve him."

"I will relieve the schelm, with a vengeance!" said Wilkin

Flammock, and saluted the slumbering and prostrate warder with two

kicks, which made his corslet clatter. The man started to his feet

in no small alarm, which he would have communicated to the next

sentinels and to the whole garrison, by crying out that the Welsh

were upon the walls, had not the monk covered his broad mouth with

his hand just as the roar was issuing forth.--"Peace, and get thee

down to the under bayley," said he;--"thou deservest death, by all

the policies of war--but, look ye, varlet, and see who has saved

your worthless neck, by watching while you were dreaming of

swine's flesh and beer-pots."

The Fleming, although as yet but half awake, was sufficiently

conscious of his situation, to sneak off without reply, after two

or three awkward congees, as well to Eveline as to those by whom

his repose had been so unceremoniously interrupted.

"He deserves to be tied neck and heel, the houndsfoot," said

Wilkin. "But what would you have, lady? My countrymen cannot live

without rest or sleep." So saying, he gave a yawn so wide, as if

he had proposed to swallow one of the turrets at an angle of the

platform on which he stood, as if it had only garnished a

Christmas pasty.

"True, good Wilkin," said Eveline; "and do you therefore take some

rest, and trust to my watchfulness, at least till the guards are

relieved. I cannot sleep if I would, and I would not if I could."

"Thanks, lady," said Flammock; "and in truth, as this is a

centrical place, and the rounds must pass in an hour at farthest,

I will e'en close my eyes for such a space, for the lids feel as

heavy as flood-gates."

"Oh, father, father!" exclaimed Rose, alive to her sire's

unceremonious neglect of decorum--"think where you are, and in

whose presence!"

"Ay, ay, good Flammock," said the monk, "remember the presence of

a noble Norman maiden is no place for folding of cloaks and

donning of night-caps."

"Let him alone, father," said Eveline, who in another moment might

have smiled at the readiness with which Wilkin Flammock folded

himself in his huge cloak, extended his substantial form on the

stone bench, and gave the most decided tokens of profound repose,

long ere the monk had done speaking.--"Forms and fashions of

respect," she continued, "are for times of ease and nicety;--when

in danger, the soldier's bedchamber is wherever he can find

leisure for an hour's sleep--his eating-hall, wherever he can

obtain food. Sit thou down by Rose and me, good father, and tell

us of some holy lesson which may pass away these hours of

weariness and calamity."

The father obeyed; but however willing to afford consolation, his

ingenuity and theological skill suggested nothing better than a

recitation of the penitentiary psalms, in which task he continued

until fatigue became too powerful for him also, when he committed

the same breach of decorum for which he had upbraided Wilkin

Flammock, and fell fast asleep in the midst of his devotions.