Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,
Or, close the wall up with our English dead.
————— And you, good yeomen,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture — let us swear
That you are worth your breeding.
King Henry V
Cedric, although not greatly confident in Ulrica’s message, omitted not to communicate her promise to the Black Knight and Locksley. They were well pleased to find they had a friend within the place, who might, in the moment of need, be able to facilitate their entrance, and readily agreed with the Saxon that a storm, under whatever disadvantages, ought to be attempted, as the only means of liberating the prisoners now in the hands of the cruel Front-de-Boeuf.
“The royal blood of Alfred is endangered,” said Cedric.
“The honour of a noble lady is in peril,” said the Black Knight.
“And, by the Saint Christopher at my baldric,” said the good yeoman, “were there no other cause than the safety of that poor faithful knave, Wamba, I would jeopard a joint ere a hair of his head were hurt.”
“And so would I,” said the Friar; “what, sirs! I trust well that a fool — I mean, d’ye see me, sirs, a fool that is free of his guild and master of his craft, and can give as much relish and flavour to a cup of wine as ever a flitch of bacon can — I say, brethren, such a fool shall never want a wise clerk to pray for or fight for him at a strait, while I can say a mass or flourish a partisan.” And with that he made his heavy halberd to play around his head as a shepherd boy flourishes his light crook.
“True, Holy Clerk,” said the Black Knight, “true as if Saint Dunstan himself had said it. — And now, good Locksley, were it not well that noble Cedric should assume the direction of this assault?”
“Not a jot I,” returned Cedric; “I have never been wont to study either how to take or how to hold out those abodes of tyrannic power, which the Normans have erected in this groaning land. I will fight among the foremost; but my honest neighbours well know I am not a trained soldier in the discipline of wars, or the attack of strongholds.”
“Since it stands thus with noble Cedric,” said Locksley, “I am most willing to take on me the direction of the archery; and ye shall hang me up on my own Trysting-tree, an the defenders be permitted to show themselves over the walls without being stuck with as many shafts as there are cloves in a gammon of bacon at Christmas.”
“Well said, stout yeoman,” answered the Black Knight; “and if I be thought worthy to have a charge in these matters, and can find among these brave men as many as are willing to follow a true English knight, for so I may surely call myself, I am ready, with such skill as my experience has taught me, to lead them to the attack of these walls.”
The parts being thus distributed to the leaders, they commenced the first assault, of which the reader has already heard the issue.
When the barbican was carried, the Sable Knight sent notice of the happy event to Locksley, requesting him at the same time, to keep such a strict observation on the castle as might prevent the defenders from combining their force for a sudden sally, and recovering the outwork which they had lost. This the knight was chiefly desirous of avoiding, conscious that the men whom he led, being hasty and untrained volunteers, imperfectly armed and unaccustomed to discipline, must, upon any sudden attack, fight at great disadvantage with the veteran soldiers of the Norman knights, who were well provided with arms both defensive and offensive; and who, to match the zeal and high spirit of the besiegers, had all the confidence which arises from perfect discipline and the habitual use of weapons.
The knight employed the interval in causing to be constructed a sort of floating bridge, or long raft, by means of which he hoped to cross the moat in despite of the resistance of the enemy. This was a work of some time, which the leaders the less regretted, as it gave Ulrica leisure to execute her plan of diversion in their favour, whatever that might be.
When the raft was completed, the Black Knight addressed the besiegers: — “It avails not waiting here longer, my friends; the sun is descending to the west — and I have that upon my hands which will not permit me to tarry with you another day. Besides, it will be a marvel if the horsemen come not upon us from York, unless we speedily accomplish our purpose. Wherefore, one of ye go to Locksley, and bid him commence a discharge of arrows on the opposite side of the castle, and move forward as if about to assault it; and you, true English hearts, stand by me, and be ready to thrust the raft endlong over the moat whenever the postern on our side is thrown open. Follow me boldly across, and aid me to burst yon sallyport in the main wall of the castle. As many of you as like not this service, or are but ill armed to meet it, do you man the top of the outwork, draw your bow-strings to your ears, and mind you quell with your shot whatever shall appear to man the rampart — Noble Cedric, wilt thou take the direction of those which remain?”
“Not so, by the soul of Hereward!” said the Saxon; “lead I cannot; but may posterity curse me in my grave, if I follow not with the foremost wherever thou shalt point the way — The quarrel is mine, and well it becomes me to be in the van of the battle.”
“Yet, bethink thee, noble Saxon,” said the knight, “thou hast neither hauberk, nor corslet, nor aught but that light helmet, target, and sword.”
“The better!” answered Cedric; “I shall be the lighter to climb these walls. And, — forgive the boast, Sir Knight, — thou shalt this day see the naked breast of a Saxon as boldly presented to the battle as ever ye beheld the steel corslet of a Norman.”
“In the name of God, then,” said the knight, “fling open the door, and launch the floating bridge.”
The portal, which led from the inner-wall of the barbican to the moat, and which corresponded with a sallyport in the main wall of the castle, was now suddenly opened; the temporary bridge was then thrust forward, and soon flashed in the waters, extending its length between the castle and outwork, and forming a slippery and precarious passage for two men abreast to cross the moat. Well aware of the importance of taking the foe by surprise, the Black Knight, closely followed by Cedric, threw himself upon the bridge, and reached the opposite side. Here he began to thunder with his axe upon the gate of the castle, protected in part from the shot and stones cast by the defenders by the ruins of the former drawbridge, which the Templar had demolished in his retreat from the barbican, leaving the counterpoise still attached to the upper part of the portal. The followers of the knight had no such shelter; two were instantly shot with cross-bow bolts, and two more fell into the moat; the others retreated back into the barbican.
The situation of Cedric and of the Black Knight was now truly dangerous, and would have been still more so, but for the constancy of the archers in the barbican, who ceased not to shower their arrows upon the battlements, distracting the attention of those by whom they were manned, and thus affording a respite to their two chiefs from the storm of missiles which must otherwise have overwhelmed them. But their situation was eminently perilous, and was becoming more so with every moment.
“Shame on ye all!” cried De Bracy to the soldiers around him; “do ye call yourselves cross-bowmen, and let these two dogs keep their station under the walls of the castle? — Heave over the coping stones from the battlements, an better may not be — Get pick-axe and levers, and down with that huge pinnacle!” pointing to a heavy piece of stone carved-work that projected from the parapet.
At this moment the besiegers caught sight of the red flag upon the angle of the tower which Ulrica had described to Cedric. The stout yeoman Locksley was the first who was aware of it, as he was hasting to the outwork, impatient to see the progress of the assault.
“Saint George!” he cried, “Merry Saint George for England! — To the charge, bold yeomen! — why leave ye the good knight and noble Cedric to storm the pass alone? — make in, mad priest, show thou canst fight for thy rosary, — make in, brave yeomen! — the castle is ours, we have friends