Walter was raised from the ground, water was fetched from the cottage,
and the blood washed from his head by Ralph, aided by two of the
women. It had at once been seen that he was still living, and Ralph on
examining the wound joyfully declared that no great harm was done.
“Had Sir Walter been strong and well,” he said, “such a clip as this
would not have knocked him from his feet, but he would have answered it
with a blow such as I have often seen him give in battle; but he was but
barely recovering and was as weak as a girl. He is unconscious from
loss of blood and weakness. I warrant me that when he opens his eyes and
hears that the lady Edith has risen from her bed and came to send me to
his rescue, joy will soon bring the blood into his cheeks again. Do one
of you run to the hut and see if they have any cordial waters; since the
plague has been raging there are few houses but have laid in a provision
in case the disease should seize them.”
The man soon returned with a bottle of cordial water compounded of
rosemary, lavender, and other herbs. By this time Walter had opened his
eyes. The cordial was poured down his throat, and he was presently able
to speak.
“Be of good cheer, Sir Walter,” Ralph said; “three of your rascally
assailants lie dead, and the other two have fled; but I have better news
still for you. Lady Edith, who you told me lay unconscious and dying,
has revived. The din of the conflict seems to have reached her ears and
recalled her to life, and the dear lady came to my room with the news
that you were carried off, and then, while I was throwing on my clothes,
roused the village to your assistance by ringing the alarm-bell. Rarely
frightened I was when she came in, for methought at first it was her
spirit.”
The good news, as Ralph had predicted, effectually roused Walter, and
rising to his feet he declared himself able to mount and ride back at
once. Ralph tried to persuade him to wait until they had formed a litter
of boughs, but Walter would not allow it.
“I would not tarry an instant,” he said, “for Edith will be full of
anxiety until I return. Why, Ralph, do you think that I am a baby? Why,
you yourself were but this morning unable to walk across the room, and
here you have been galloping and fighting on my behalf.”
“In faith,” Ralph said, smiling, “until now I had forgotten that I had
been ill.”
“You have saved my life, Ralph, you and my friends here, whom I thank
with all my heart for what they have done. I will speak more to them
another time, now I must ride home with all speed.”
Walter now mounted; Ralph took his place on one side of him, and one of
his tenants on the other, lest he should be seized with faintness; then
at a hand-gallop they started back for the castle. Several women of the
village had, when they left, hurried up to the castle. They found Edith
lying insensible by the rope of the alarm-bell, having fainted when she
had accomplished her object. They presently brought her round; as she
was now suffering only from extreme weakness, she was laid on a couch,
and cordials and some soup were given to her. One of the women took her
place at the highest window to watch for the return of any belonging to
the expedition.
Edith felt hopeful as to the result, for she thought that their
assailants would not have troubled to carry away the body of Walter had
not life remained in it, and she was sure that Ralph would press them so
hotly that sooner or later the abductors would be overtaken.
An hour and a half passed, and then the woman from above ran down with
the news that she could see three horsemen galloping together towards
the castle, with a number of others following in confused order behind.
“Then they have found my lord,” Edith exclaimed joyfully, “for Ralph
would assuredly not return so quickly had they not done so. It's a good
sign that they are galloping, for had they been bearers of ill news
they would have returned more slowly; look out again and see if they are
bearing one among them.”
The woman, with some of her companions, hastened away, and in two or
three minutes ran down with the news that Sir Walter himself was one of
the three leading horsemen. In a few minutes Edith was clasped in her
husband's arms, and their joy, restored as they were from the dead to
each other, was indeed almost beyond words.
The plague now abated fast in Westerham, only two or three more persons
being attacked by it. As soon as Edith was sufficiently recovered to
travel Walter proceeded with her to London and there laid before the
king and prince a complaint against Sir James Carnegie for his attempt
upon their lives. Even in the trance in which she lay, Edith had
recognized the voice which had once been so familiar to her. Walter,
too, was able to testify against him, for the rough jolting on horseback
had for a while restored his consciousness, and he had heard words
spoken, before relapsing into insensibility from the continued bleeding
of his wound, which enabled him to swear to Sir James Carnegie as one of
his abductors.
The king instantly ordered the arrest of the knight, but he could not
be found; unavailing search was made in every direction, and as nothing
could be heard of him it was concluded that he had left the kingdom. He
was proclaimed publicly a false and villainous knight, his estates were
confiscated to the crown, and he himself was outlawed. Then Walter and
his wife returned home and did their best to assist their tenants in
struggling through the difficulties entailed through the plague.
So terrible had been the mortality that throughout England there was a
lack of hands for field work, crops rotted in the ground because there
were none to harvest them, and men able to work demanded twenty times
the wages which had before been paid. So great was the trouble from this
source that an ordinance was passed by parliament enacting that severe
punishment should be dealt upon all who demanded wages above the
standard price, and even more severe penalties inflicted upon those who
should consent to pay higher wages. It was, however, many years before
England recovered from the terrible blow which had been dealt her from
the pestilence.
While Europe had been ravaged by pestilence the adherents of France and
England had continued their struggle in Brittany in spite of the terms
of the truce, and this time King Edward was the first open aggressor,
granting money and assistance to the free companies, who pillaged and
plundered in the name of England. The truce expired at the end of 1348,
but was continued for short periods. It was, however, evident that both
parties were determined ere long to recommence hostilities. The French
collected large forces in Artois and Picardy, and Edward himself
proceeded to Sandwich to organize there another army for the invasion of
France.
Phillip determined to strike the first blow, and, before the conclusion
of the truce, to regain possession of Calais. This town was commanded by
a Lombard officer named Almeric of Pavia. Free communication existed,
in consequence of the truce, between Calais and the surrounding
country, and Jeffrey de Charny, the governor of St. Omer, and one of
the commissioners especially appointed to maintain the truce, opened
communications with the Lombard captain. Deeming that like most
mercenaries he would be willing to change sides should his interest to
do so be made clear, he offered him a large sum of money to deliver the
castle to the French.
The Lombard at once agreed to the project. Jeffrey de Charny arranged
to be within a certain distance of the town on the night of the 1st of
January, bringing with him sufficient forces to master all opposition
if the way was once opened to the interior of the town. It was further
agreed that the money was to be paid over by a small party of French
who were to be sent forward for the purpose of examining the castle, in
order to ensure the main body against treachery. As a hostage for the
security of the detachment, the son of the governor was to remain in
the hands of the French without, until the safe return of the scouting
party.
Several weeks elapsed between the conclusion of the agreement and the
date fixed for its execution, and in the meantime the Lombard, either
from remorse or from a fear of the consequences which might arise from
a detection of the plot before its execution, or from the subsequent
vengeance of the English king, disclosed the whole transaction to
Edward.
The king bade him continue to carry out his arrangements with De Charny,
leaving it to him to counteract the plot. Had he issued orders for
the rapid assembly of the army the French would have taken alarm. He
therefore sent private messengers to a number of knights and gentlemen
of Kent and Sussex to meet him with their retainers at Dover on the 31st
of December.
Walter was one of those summoned, and although much surprised at the
secrecy with which he was charged, and of such a call being made while
the truce with France still existed, he repaired to Dover on the day
named, accompanied by Ralph and by twenty men, who were all who remained
capable of bearing arms on the estate.
He found the king himself with the Black Prince at Dover, where they had
arrived that day. Sir Walter Manny was in command of the force, which
consisted in all of 300 men-at-arms and 600 archers. A number of small
boats had been collected, and at midday on the 1st of January the little
expedition started, and arrived at Calais after nightfall.
In the chivalrous spirit of the times the king determined that Sir
Walter Manny should continue in command of the enterprise; he and the
Black Prince, disguised as simple knights, fighting under his banner.
In the meantime a considerable force had been collected at St. Omer,
where a large number of knights and gentlemen obeyed the summons of
Jeffrey de Charny. On the night appointed they marched for Calais, in
number five hundred lances and a corresponding number of footmen. They
reached the river and bridge of Nieullay a little after midnight, and
messengers were sent on to the governor, who was prepared to receive
them. On their report De Charny advanced still nearer to the town,
leaving the bridge and passages to the river guarded by a large body of
crossbow-men under the command of the Lord De Fiennes and a number
of other knights. At a little distance from the castle he was met by
Almeric de Pavia, who yielded his son as a hostage according to his
promise, calculating, as was the case, that he would be recaptured by
the English. Then, having received the greater portion of the money
agreed upon, he led a party of the French over the castle to satisfy
them of his sincerity. Upon receiving their report that all was quiet
De Charny detached twelve knights and a hundred men-at-arms to take
possession of the castle, while he himself waited at one of the gates of
the town with the principal portion of his force.
No sooner had the French entered the castle than the drawbridge
was raised. The English soldiers poured out from their places of
concealment, and the party which had entered the castle were forced
to lay down their arms. In the meantime the Black Prince issued with a
small body of troops from a gate near the sea, while De Manny, with
the king under his banner, marched by the sally-port which led into
the fields. A considerable detachment of the division was despatched to
dislodge the enemy at the bridge of Nieullay, and the rest, joining the
party of the Black Prince, advanced rapidly upon the forces of Jeffrey
de Charny which, in point of numbers, was double their own strength.
Although taken in turn by surprise the French prepared steadily for
the attack. De Charny ordered them all to dismount and to shorten their
lances to pikes five feet in length. The English also dismounted and
rushing forward on foot a furious contest commenced. The ranks of both
parties were soon broken in the darkness, and the combatants separating
into groups a number of separate battles raged around the different
banners.
For some hours the fight was continued with unabating obstinacy on both
sides. The king and the Black Prince fought with immense bravery, their
example encouraging even those of their soldiers who were ignorant
of the personality of the knights who were everywhere in front of the
combat. King Edward himself several times crossed swords with the famous
Eustace de Ribaumont, one of the most gallant knights in France. At
length towards daybreak the king, with only thirty companions, found
himself again opposed to De Ribaumont with a greatly superior force, and
the struggle was renewed between them.
Twice the king was beaten down on one knee by the thundering blows
of the French knight, twice he rose and renewed the attack, until De
Charny, seeing Sir Walter Manny's banner, beside which Edward fought,
defended by so small a force, also bore down to the attack, and in the
struggle Edward was separated from his opponent.
The combat now became desperate round the king, and Sir Guy Brian, who
bore De Manny's standard, though one of the strongest and most gallant
knights of the day, could scarce keep the banner erect. Still Edward
fought on, and in the excitement of the moment, forgetting his
incognito, he accompanied each blow with his customary war-cry--“Edward,
St. George! Edward, St. George!” At that battle-cry, which told the
French men-at-arms that the King of England was himself opposed to them,
they recoiled for a moment. The shout too reached the ears of the Prince
of Wales, who had been fighting with another group. Calling his knights
around him he fell upon the rear of De Charny's party and quickly
cleared a space around the king.
The fight was now everywhere going against the French, and the English
redoubling their efforts the victory was soon complete, and scarcely
one French knight left the ground alive and free. In the struggle Edward
again encountered De Ribaumont, who, separated from him by the charge of
De Charny, had not heard the king's war-cry. The conflict between them
was a short one. The French knight saw that almost all his companions
were dead or captured, his party completely defeated, and all prospects
of escape cut off. He therefore soon dropped the point of his sword and
surrendered to his unknown adversary. In the meantime the troops which
had been despatched to the bridge of Nieullay had defeated the French
forces left to guard the passage and clear the ground towards St. Omer.
Early in the morning Edward entered Calais in triumph, taking with him
thirty French nobles as prisoners, while two hundred more remained dead
on the field. That evening a great banquet was held, at which the French
prisoners were present. The king presided at the banquet, and the French
nobles were waited upon by the Black Prince and his knights. After the
feast was concluded the king bestowed on De Ribaumont the chaplet of
pearls which he wore round his crown, hailing him as the most gallant of
the knights who had that day fought, and granting him freedom to return
at once to his friends, presenting him with two horses, and a purse to
defray his expenses to the nearest French town.
De Charny was afterwards ransomed, and after his return to France
assembled a body of troops and attacked the castle which Edward had
bestowed upon Almeric of Pavia, and capturing the Lombard, carried him
to St. Omer, and had him there publicly flayed alive as a punishment for
his treachery.
Walter had as usual fought by the side of the Prince of Wales throughout
the battle of Calais and had much distinguished himself for his valour.
Ralph was severely wounded in the fight, but was able a month later to
rejoin Walter in England.
The battle of Calais and the chivalrous bearing of the king created
great enthusiasm and delight in England, and did much to rouse the
people from the state of grief into which they had been cast by the
ravages of the plague. The king did his utmost to maintain the spirit
which had been evoked, and the foundation of the order of the Garter,
and the erection of a splendid chapel at Windsor, and its dedication,
with great ceremony, to St. George, the patron saint of England, still
further raised the renown of the court of Edward throughout Europe as
the centre of the chivalry of the age.
Notwithstanding many treaties which had taken place, and the near
alliance which had been well-nigh carried out between the royal families
of England and Spain, Spanish pirates had never ceased to carry on a
series of aggressions upon the English vessels trading in the Bay of
Biscay. Ships were every day taken, and the crews cruelly butchered
in cold blood. Edward's remonstrances proved vain, and when threats of
retaliation were held out by Edward, followed by preparations to carry
those threats into effect, Pedro the Cruel, who had now succeeded to the
throne of Spain, despatched strong reinforcements to the fleet which had
already swept the English Channel.
The great Spanish fleet sailed north, and capturing on its way a number
of English merchantmen, put into Sluys, and prepared to sail back
in triumph with the prizes and merchandise it had captured. Knowing,
however, that Edward was preparing to oppose them, the Spaniards filled
up their complement of men, strengthened themselves by all sorts of the
war machines then in use, and started on their return for Spain with one
of the most powerful armadas that had ever put to sea.
Edward had collected on the coast of Sussex a fleet intended to oppose
them, and had summoned all the military forces of the south of England
to accompany him; and as soon as he heard that the Spaniards were about
to put to sea he set out for Winchelsea, where the fleet was collected.
The queen accompanied him to the sea-coast, and the Black Prince, now in
his twentieth year, was appointed to command one of the largest of the
English vessels.
The fleet put to sea when they heard that the Spaniards had started,
and the hostile fleets were soon in sight of each other. The number
of fighting men on board the Spanish ships was ten times those of the
English, and their vessels were of vastly superior size and strength.
They had, moreover, caused their ships to be fitted at Sluys with
large wooden towers, which furnished a commanding position to their
crossbow-men. The wind was direct in their favour, and they could have
easily avoided the contest, but, confiding in their enormously superior
force, they sailed boldly forward to the attack.
The king himself led the English line, and directing his vessel towards
a large Spanish ship, endeavoured to run her down. The shock was
tremendous, but the enemy's vessel was stronger as well as larger than
that of the king; and as the two ships recoiled from each other it was
found that the water was rushing into the English vessel, and that she
was rapidly sinking. The Spanish passed on in the confusion, but the
king ordered his ship to be instantly laid alongside another which was
following her, and to be firmly lashed to her. Then with his knights he
sprang on board the Spaniard, and after a short but desperate fight cut
down or drove the crew overboard. The royal standard was hoisted on the
prize, the sinking English vessel was cast adrift, and the king sailed
on to attack another adversary.
The battle now raged on all sides. The English strove to grapple with
and board the enemy, while the Spaniards poured upon them a shower of
bolts and quarrels from their cross-bows, hurled immense masses of stone
from their military engines, and, as they drew alongside, cast into them
heavy bars of iron, which pierced holes in the bottom of the ship.
Walter was on board the ship commanded by the Black Prince. This had
been steered towards one of the largest and most important of the
Spanish vessels. As they approached, the engines poured their missiles
into them. Several great holes were torn in the sides of the ship, which
was already sinking as she came alongside her foe.
“We must do our best, Sir Walter,” the prince exclaimed, “for if we do
not capture her speedily our ship will assuredly sink beneath our feet.”
The Spaniard stood far higher above the water than the English ship, and
the Black Prince and his knights in vain attempted to climb her sides,
while the seamen strove with pumps and buckets to keep the vessel
afloat. Every effort was in vain. The Spaniard's men-at-arms lined the
bulwarks, and repulsed every effort made by the English to climb up
them, while those on the towers rained down showers of bolts and arrows
and masses of iron and stone. The situation was desperate when the Earl
of Lancaster, passing by in his ship, saw the peril to which the prince
was exposed, and, ranging up on the other side of the Spaniard,
strove to board her there. The attention of the Spaniards being thus
distracted, the prince and his companions made another desperate effort,
and succeeded in winning their way on to the deck of the Spanish ship
just as their own vessel sank beneath their feet; after a few minutes'
desperate fighting the Spanish ship was captured.
The English were now everywhere getting the best of their enemies. Many
of the Spanish vessels had been captured or sunk, and after the fight
had raged for some hours, the rest began to disperse and seek safety
in flight. The English vessel commanded by Count Robert of Namur had
towards night engaged a Spanish vessel of more than twice its own
strength. His adversaries, seeing that the day was lost, set all sail,
but looking upon the little vessel beside them as a prey to be taken
possession of at their leisure, they fastened it tightly to their sides
by the grappling irons, and spreading all sail, made away. The Count
and his men were unable to free themselves, and were being dragged away,
when a follower of the count named Hennekin leapt suddenly on board the
Spanish ship. With a bound he reached the mast, and with a single blow
with his sword cut the halyards which supported the main-sail. The sail
fell at once. The Spaniards rushed to the spot to repair the disaster
which threatened to delay their ship. The count and his followers,
seeing the bulwarks of the Spanish vessel for the moment unguarded,
poured in, and after a furious conflict captured the vessel. By this
time twenty-four of the enemy's vessels had been taken, the rest were
either sunk or in full flight, and Edward at once returned to the
English shore.
The fight had taken place within sight of land, and Queen Philippa, from
the windows of the abbey, which stood on rising ground, had seen the
approach of the vast Spanish fleet, and had watched the conflict until
night fell. She remained in suspense as to the result until the king
himself with the Black Prince and Prince John, afterwards known as John
of Gaunt, who, although but ten years of age, had accompanied the Black
Prince in his ship, rode up with the news of the victory.
This great sea-fight was one of the brightest and most honourable in the
annals of English history, for not even in the case of that other great
Spanish Armada which suffered defeat in English waters were the odds so
immense or the victory so thorough and complete. The result of the fight
was, that after some negotiations a truce of twenty years was concluded
with Spain.