"The skirts of the wood seem lined with archers, although only a few are
advanced from its dark shadow." "Under what banner?" asked Ivanhoe. "Under
no ensign which I can observe," answered Rebecca. "A singular novelty,"
muttered the knight, "to advance to storm such a castle without pennon or
banner displayed. Seest thou who they be that act as leaders?" "A knight
clad in sable armor is the most conspicuous," said the Jewess: "he alone
is armed from head to heel, and seems to assume the direction of all
around him."
"Seem there no other leaders?" exclaimed the anxious inquirer. "None of
mark and distinction that I can behold from this station," said Rebecca,
"but doubtless the other side of the castle is also assailed. They seem,
even now, preparing to advance. God of Zion protect us! What a dreadful
sight! Those who advance first bear huge shields and defenses made of
plank: the others follow, bending their bows as they come on. They raise
their bows! God of Moses, forgive the creatures thou hast made!"
Her description was here suddenly interrupted by the signal for assault,
which was given by the blast of a shrill bugle, and at once answered by a
flourish of the Norman trumpets from the battlements, which, mingled with
the deep and hollow clang of the kettledrums, retorted in notes of
defiance the challenge of the enemy. The shouts of both parties augmented
the fearful din, the assailants crying, "Saint George, for merry England!"
and the Normans answering them with loud cries of "Onward, De Bracy! Front
de Boeuf, to the rescue!"
"And I must lie here like a bedridden monk," exclaimed Ivanhoe, "while the
game that gives me freedom or death is played out by the hand of others!
Look from the window once again, kind maiden, and tell me if they yet
advance to the storm." With patient courage, strengthened by the interval
which she had employed in mental devotion, Rebecca again took post at the
lattice, sheltering herself, however, so as not to be exposed to the
arrows of the archers. "What dost thou see, Rebecca?" again demanded the
wounded knight. "Nothing but the cloud of arrows flying so thick as to
dazzle mine eyes, and to hide the bowmen who shoot them." "That can not
endure," said Ivanhoe. "If they press not right on, to carry the castle by
force of arms, the archery may avail but little against stone walls and
bulwarks. Look for the knight in dark armor, fair Rebecca, and see how he
bears himself; for as the leader is, so will his followers be."
"I see him not," said Rebecca. "Foul craven!" exclaimed Ivanhoe; "does he
blench from the helm when the wind blows highest?" "He blenches not! he
blenches not!" said Rebecca; "I see him now: he leads a body of men close
under the outer barrier of the barbacan. They pull down the piles and
palisades; they hew down the barriers with axes. His high black plume
floats abroad over the throng like a raven over the field of the slain.
They have made a breach in the barriers, they rush in, they are thrust
back! Front de Boeuf heads the defenders. I see his gigantic form above
the press. They throng again to the breach, and the pass is disputed, hand
to hand, and man to man. God of Jacob! it is the meeting of two fierce
tides, the conflict of two oceans moved by adverse winds;" and she turned
her head from the window as if unable longer to endure a sight so
terrible.
Speedily recovering her self-control, Rebecca again looked forth, and
almost immediately exclaimed, "Holy prophets of the law! Front de Boeuf
and the Black Knight fight hand to hand on the breach, amid the roar of
their followers, who watch the progress of the strife. Heaven strike with
the cause of the oppressed and of the captive!" She then uttered a loud
shriek, and exclaimed, "He is down! he is down!" "Who is down!" cried
Ivanhoe; "for our dear Lady's sake, tell me which has fallen!" "The Black
Knight," answered Rebecca, faintly; then instantly again shouted with
joyful eagerness--"But no! but no! the name of the Lord of Hosts be
blessed! he is on foot again, and fights as if there were twenty men's
strength in his single arm--his sword is broken--he snatches an ax from a
yeoman--he presses Front de Boeuf, blow on blow--the giant stoops and
totters like an oak under the steel of the woodman--he falls-he falls!"
"Front de Boeuf?" exclaimed Ivanhoe. "Front de Boeuf," answered the
Jewess; "his men rush to the rescue, headed by the haughty Templar,
--their united force compels the champion to pause--they drag Front de
Boeuf within the walls."
"The assailants have won the barriers, have they not?" said Ivanhoe. "They
have--they have--and they press the besieged hard upon the outer wall;
some plant ladders, some swarm like bees, and endeavor to ascend upon the
shoulders of each other; down go stones, beams, and trunks of trees upon
their heads, and as fast as they bear the wounded to the rear, fresh men
supply their places in the assault. Great God! hast thou given men thine
own image that it should be thus cruelly defaced by the hands of their
brethren!" "Think not of that," replied Ivanhoe; "this is no time for such
thoughts. Who yield? Who push their way?"
"The ladders are thrown down," replied Rebecca, shuddering; "the soldiers
lie groveling under them like crushed reptiles; the besieged have the
better." "Saint George strike for us!" said the knight; "do the false
yeomen give way?" "No," exclaimed Rebecca, "they bear themselves right
yeomanly; the Black Knight approaches the postern with his huge ax; the
thundering blows which he deals, you may hear them above all the din and
shouts of the battle; stones and beams are hailed down on the brave
champion; he regards them no more than if they were thistle down and
feathers."
"Saint John of Acre!" said Ivanhoe, raising himself joyfully on his couch,
"methought there was but one man in England that might do such a deed."
"The postern gate shakes," continued Rebecca; "it crashes--it is
splintered by his powerful blows--they rush in--the outwork is won! O God!
they hurry the defenders from the battlements--they throw them into the
moat! O men, if ye be indeed men, spare them that can resist no longer!"
"The bridge--the bridge which communicates with the castle--have they won
that pass?" exclaimed Ivanhoe. "No," replied Rebecca; "the Templar has
destroyed the plank on which they crossed--few of the defenders escaped
with him into the castle--the shrieks and cries which you hear, tell the
fate of the others. Alas! I see that it is still more difficult to look
upon victory than upon battle."
"What do they now, maiden?" said Ivanhoe; "look forth yet again--this is
no time to faint at bloodshed." "It is over, for a time," said Rebecca;
"our friends strengthen themselves within the outwork which they have
mastered." "Our friends," said Ivanhoe, "will surely not abandon an
enterprise so gloriously begun, and so happily attained; Oh no! I will put
my faith in the good knight whose ax has rent heart of oak and bars of
iron. Singular," he again muttered to himself, "if there can be two who
are capable of such achievements. It is,--it must be Richard Coeur de
Lion."
"Seest thou nothing else. Rebecca, by which the Black Knight may be
distinguished?" "Nothing," said the Jewess, "all about him is as black as
the wing of the night raven. Nothing can I spy that can mark him further;
but having once seen him put forth his strength in battle, methinks I
could know him again among a thousand warriors. He rushes to the fray as
if he were summoned to a banquet. There is more than mere strength; it
seems as if the whole soul and spirit of the champion were given to every
blow which he deals upon his enemies. God forgive him the sin of
bloodshed! it is fearful, yet magnificent, to behold how the arm and heart
of one man can triumph over hundreds."
-- Walter Scott.
NOTES.--Ivanhoe, a wounded knight, and Rebecca, a Jewess, had been
imprisoned in the castle of Reginald Front de Boeuf. The friends of the
prisoners undertake their rescue. At the request of Ivanhoe, who is unable
to leave his couch, Rebecca takes her stand near a window overlooking the
approach to the castle, and details to the knight the incidents of the
contest as they take place. Front de Boeuf and his garrison were Normans;
the besiegers, Saxons.
The castles of this time (twelfth century) usually consisted of a keep, or
castle proper, surrounded at some distance by two walls, one within the
other. Each wall was encircled on its outer side by a moat, or ditch,
which was filled with water, and was crossed by means of a drawbridge.
Before the main entrance of the outer wall was an outwork called the
barbacan, which was a high wall surmounted by battlements and turrets,
built to defend the gate and drawbridge. Here, also, were placed barriers
of palisades, etc., to impede the advance of an attacking force. The
postern gate was small, and was usually some distance from the ground; it
was used for the egress of messengers during a siege;