CHAPTER XIII
THE RELIEF OF HENNEBON
"THY name and style, fair sir?"
"My name is Raymond Buckland, squire to Sir John Hacket, Constable ofthe King's Castle of Portchester and Governor of the town ofPortsmouth. Lead me, I pray, to her grace the Countess of Montfort,for I have a letter which I have to give her by my own hand."
"Nay," was the reply, "that cannot be--at least not at this moment.The Countess led a sortie yesterday at noon, and, alas, hath not yetreturned. I, Henri Barbenoire, seigneur of the castle of Ploeac andSeneschal, in the absence of the Countess of this town will receivethy message."
"That cannot be," replied Raymond courteously, "for to the Countessalone must I hand this letter."
Barbenoire, a Breton whole-heartedly devoted to his mistress, did notpress the point, but ordering a hasty meal to be prepared, remainedwith the young squire. It was but a sorry repast, for already thesupplies were low, nevertheless Raymond did justice to the simplefare, listening awhile to the narrative of the events of the siege.
Cheered by the touching confidence that the heroic Countess had givento the townsmen of Hennebon, the garrison had fought bravely andwell. The Countess herself wore armour, and rode on a huge warhorsethrough the narrow streets, encouraging her people to make gooddefence, reminding them of the help she hoped would be forthcomingfrom the King of England. Nor did she spare the womenfolk, for shecaused them to discard their long trains and heavy skirts and to donshort kirtles so that they could move with freedom. This done, theywere employed in carrying stones and arrows to the walls to replenishthe missiles of the defenders, and so emboldened were they by theexample of their mistress that the women did not hesitate to hurl thestones down upon the invaders.
At length one day the Frenchmen massed outside the northern wall fora grand assault, and, ascending a lofty tower, the Countess perceivedthat their camp was empty. Instantly calling together a body ofknights and mounted men-at-arms the lady mounted her steed and,placing herself at their head, rode straight for the French camp,cutting down tents and setting fire to everything that would readilyburn.
The watchers on the walls saw the French host desist from the assaultand retire to intercept the Countess. Finding herself cut off fromthe town, she called in her followers, and rode furiously away toAural, hotly pursued by Sir Louis d'Espagne, the second in command ofCharles of Blois.
Thus it was that Raymond had seen the Countess and her troops pass byhim without knowledge of their identity; and now the garrison wasignorant of the fate of their beloved leader, none knowing whethershe had been killed or taken, or whether she had baffled pursuit.
On the morning following the arrival of Raymond and his father, thehost of Blois still encompassed the town, yet no attempt was made torenew the assault.
The two Englishmen were enrolled as members of the garrison, and asthe days went past they with their foreign comrades gazed eagerlyfrom the battlements in the hope of seeing the banners of thereturning Countess.
On the fifth day, Barbenoire had ascended the lofty east tower.Despair for his mistress had filled his soul, yet, inspiring thetownsfolk by word and deed, he gave no sign of misgiving, beingresolved to hold Hennebon as long as a single fighting-man was left.
The rising sun dazzled his vision, but a movement on the skylineriveted his attention. Calling one of his captains, he pointed outthe spot, and both agreed that it was a body of troops approaching.
A very short time sufficed to spread the news, though Barbenoirecommanded that no demonstration should be made lest it should attractthe notice of the besiegers.
Soon it was beyond doubt that the Countess was returning. Collectinga body of one hundred archers and spearmen, the Seneschal orderedthem to make a feint sortie from the western side while the gatewayon the opposite side was thrown open to receive the Countess. Then,when safely within the walls with all her company and an additionalforce of five hundred spears, the redoubtable Chatelaine was greetedwith a great noise of trumpets to the cheers of the delightedtownsfolk.
The besiegers, finding themselves tricked, could not refrain frompraising the boldness and skill of the Countess of Montfort.Nevertheless, they advanced to the assault, and the struggle waxedfierce until noon, when, unable to gain a lodgment, the partisans ofBlois sullenly retreated to their camp.
Directly the attack was repulsed, Raymond hastened to the presence ofthe Countess. She had now divested herself of her bascinet and steeljupon, and the young squire saw before him a tall, stately lady ofabout thirty years of age. Her finely chiselled face was crowned by awealth of auburn hair, which, ruffled by the removal of herheadpiece, served to hide the somewhat lofty brow.
Raymond could but marvel that such a truly feminine form possessedthe courage and endurance of a man, and his astonishment wasincreased when she addressed him in low, sweet tones, for he hadheard of the Countess's soul-stirring speech, when, holding herlittle son by the hand, she had so successfully appealed to thechivalrous instincts of her knights and to the loyalty of thetownsfolk.
Concealing her agitation at the arrival of such important news fromEngland, the Countess broke the seals and opened the letter. Her faceflushed with pleasure as she read its contents.
"Hearken, my fair lords, to the message of our noble overlord theKing of England," she cried, turning to those who were with her."Four score ships by now are on their way to aid us, and ere longthree thousand men, under Sir Robert of Artois and Sir Walter Manny,will be on the heels of our enemies."
Shouts of exultation greeted this announcement, and, the news quicklyspreading, the whole town was given over to rejoicing.
But meanwhile active preparations were being made by Charles of Bloisto make another general assault, and the arrival of some formidablesiege-engines enabled him to breach the walls in several places;while the garrison, kept in a state of constant alarm, were worn withtoil and endless vigil.
Every morning at sunrise, for nearly two months, the Countess wouldascend the loftiest tower in Hennebon and gaze towards the distantCape of Ushant in the hope of catching sight of the sails of theEnglish fleet. But her expectations remained unrealised, for seawardthe horizon was unbroken, while around the town lay the close linesof her relentless foes.
At length one of her partisans, the Bishop of Leon, informed her thathis nephew, Henri de Rohan, who was in the camp of Blois, desired tohold converse with her; and, being granted safe conduct, the knightentered the town for the purpose of inducing the besieged tosurrender, promising an honourable capitulation, with permission forthe garrison to withdraw.
For a while it seemed as if De Rohan's words would gain the day, tillthe Countess, supported by Barbenoire, again harangued her knights,and the ecclesiastic withdrew discomfited.
Thereupon the French advanced to the grand assault, while thebesieged caught up their arms and silently yet resolutely awaitedtheir approach.
But ere the archers could begin their hail of arrows which was toopen the attack, the ringing voice of the Countess was heard from thesummit of the tower:--
"Voila, le secours! Viola le secours anglais! Courage, enfans; noussommes sauves!"
"Will they be in time?" asked Raymond anxiously, as he stood by hisfather on the shattered wall.
"If we can but make good the battlements for one hour all will bewell. Canst see aught of the ships?"
"Not as yet."
"Then heaven forfend the Countess be not mistaken. Stand to it,Raymond, for here they come!"
All conversation was stopped by the on-coming foemen. The squireclosed his visor, and crouching behind his shield, awaited theattack. Under cover of the archers the men-at-arms advanced. Thoughsome fell before the darts of the besieged, the main body pressedsteadily onward, till they reached the breach in the shatteredmasonry.
The impact of the two forces was terrific; men went down on bothsides, and, as sword and lance were shattered, axes, mauls, and macescontinued the deadly work. The air was rent with the clash of arms,the shouts of
the combatants, and the groans of the dying; but thetownsfolk held their own, and after an hour's desperate struggle theattacking party retired.
"'Tis hot work!" exclaimed Redward breathlessly, throwing down aheavy axe and removing his steel cap to cool his heated head. "Runand see if our comrades are yet in sight."
To gain the summit of the tower was the work of a moment, and to thesquire's great delight he saw the English ships already within easydistance of the harbour, their sails bellying out before thefavouring breeze, and the water churned by the lash of the oars.
"They come! They come!" he shouted joyously.
"And so doth the foe," replied Redward grimly. "Haste back to thebreach, for, by St. George, 'tis touch-and-go with Hennebon!"
Again the attackers advanced, one knight, utterly regardless of hislife, urging his horse towards the gap in the wall. Crouching, withlance in rest, the Frenchman spurred over the shattered stones,received yet recked not a hail of arrows, and rode furiously towardsRaymond, who, sword in hand, awaited his approach.
It would have gone hardly with the young squire had it not been forthe unevenness of the ground, for the horse stumbled over a loosestone, throwing its rider heavily on the ground.
In spite of the weight of his armour and the shock of his fall, theknight, a man of gigantic strength, rose to his feet, dropping hislance and wrenching his mace from the saddle-bow. As he did soRaymond struck him a heavy blow with his weapon, but the steel turnedagainst the crest of his casque and was shattered close to the hilt.In a moment the mace beat down the squire's shield and descended uponhis head, and without a cry the squire dropped senseless to theground.
But his fall was speedily avenged. Wielding his heavy axe, Redwardsprang forward and smote at the Frenchman's helm. Realising hisdanger, the knight sprang aside; but, though avoiding a fatal blow,he did not escape, for the axe, glancing off the crest, caught theprojecting visor. Unable to stand the strain, the leathern laces ofhis helmet burst, and the bascinet, though prevented by the camailfrom falling off, was turned back to front, so that the unfortunatewearer was unable to see through the openings of the visor.
Dazed by the blow and in total darkness, the Frenchman staggeredblindly about, still striking feeble and aimless blows, till thedefenders, with taunts and execrations, beat him to the ground anddespatched him with their axes.
Meanwhile Redward bent over the prostrate form of his son, but ere hecould ascertain whether the blow had been fatal the main attack hadcommenced. Gallantly the besieged met the shock; many fell on bothsides, and for the space of a quarter of an hour the issue hung inthe balance.
At length, reinforced by a band of knights under Louis d'Espagne, theassailants bore back all before them. Barbenoire, fighting gallantlyto the last, fell covered with wounds. Redward, standing over hisson's body, kept back the press for a time, till, borne down by theweight of numbers, he was struck to the earth, but ere he lostconsciousness he was dimly aware of the sound of English voices andthe renewed clash of arms.
At the critical moment the long-expected aid had arrived!
Once more the tide of battle turned, and the followers of the Houseof Blois, unable to withstand the fierce onslaught of the English,fled panic-stricken before the reinforcements, the knights andmounted men-at-arms of Sir Walter Manny riding down all who came intheir way.
When at length the victorious Manny returned from the pursuit, theCountess of Montfort came forth and warmly greeted him.
"Of a truth, fair sir," she exclaimed, as the warrior knelt andkissed her hand, "I cannot but liken you to the Archangel Michaelsent from heaven in answer to our prayers!"
Meanwhile the inhabitants of the town were busy pillaging the camp oftheir enemies, bringing in additional food supplies and tending theirown wounded--for those of their assailants who were left in theirhands were mercilessly despatched, save where their rank made themlikely subjects for ransom.
Redward and his son were found surrounded by the bodies of friend andfoe, senseless but still breathing. The Countess had been apprised ofthe fall of her gallant messenger, and had ordered the young squireand his father to be carried into her own house within the castle.Sir Walter Manny himself also came frequently to see how fared theforerunner of his arrival, and brought with him his own chirurgeon toattend the two.
For four days Raymond lay unconscious, till one morning his scatteredsenses returned, and he opened his eyes to find himself in a roomyapartment overlooking the town walls. Instead of the clash of armsthe sun was shining brightly and the birds were singing. Beside himwere the Countess and a group of Englishmen of quality; a littledistance off lay Redward on a soft couch, his gaze fixed intentlyupon his son.
Then the young squire realised that Hennebon was saved, and that hisfather was still with him; and with a sigh of contentment he fellinto a deep and natural slumber.
The wounds of both Raymond and his father were severe, and aconsiderable time elapsed ere they were capable of moving about,while their complete recovery, in spite of the kindly climate of fairBrittany, was a tedious business. Thus they missed the remainingportion of the Brittany campaign, in which Robert of Artois capturedVannes, and was soon afterwards driven from that town by a surpriseattack on the part of some Breton adherents of Charles of Blois.
Shortly after, the existing treaty between England and France wasterminated, for during the struggle in Brittany a truce was nominallyin force, the armies of England and France ostentatiously supportingthe claim of the rival dukes; but on the expiration of the treaty warwas openly resumed between the two great nations.
The King of England landed at Marbain with 12,000 men, andsimultaneously laid siege to Vannes, Rennes, and Mantes, but thetriple task was beyond his power, and under the influence of thePope's legates he agreed to observe a truce for three years.
Immediately following this pacific arrangement King Edwardre-embarked for his own dominions, and with the army went Raymond andRedward, the former despondent at the news of the truce, regarding itas being fatal to his cherished hopes of winning the golden spurs ofknighthood.