How we set forth to attack _Le Château du Grand Sarrasin_. Of the
_Normans_' valour, and of the flight of our foes.
Now, for the next two days Samson had under review our islanders, and
the brethren, who in martial accoutrements, and restored moreover
already by good store of food, would fain take part in the great matter
of executing Heaven's vengeance on Le Grand Sarrasin and his troop.
These were bound together in a second regiment auxiliary to the
men-at-arms, and set by Samson of his deep wisdom under Hugo's leading.
Now, all this time the Sarrasin sat still awaiting our assault, like a
sick lion in his cave, and the only sign of life up at his castle was
the green flag on the pole that fluttered in the wind.
And on the third day all was in preparation for the attack. And Samson
had it in mind that he and his Normans would bear the brunt of the
assault, and have our contingent in reserve to fight on the level when
entrance had been made. Now he determined not to attack the Castle on
the side towards Vale, but from the south, where the height was not
great, and there was good cover of brushwood to hide our strength, and
to protect from arrows and balls. We, in a close body, were to lie quiet
to the east within a run, and we were told to await his signal to enter
in the breach to do our share, or, if need were, to swoop on the pirate
swarms unexpectedly, if they essayed to escape to their ships.
And thus once more I found myself by Hugo's side, prepared for sharp
fighting.
"See, Nigel," whispered he, as he stood fuming and craving to be himself
in the thick of the fighting that soon must chance. "Yonder tree shoots
up clean and straight, and, as I fancy, there is clear vision downward
to the Castle, and an easy drop and scamper hither again at the signal."
"Let us mount," I said.
So, careless of rules of war and obedience, like two school-lads we
swarmed up the smooth trunk, and sat soon in the joinings of the
branches. Thence could we see, so far as leaves allowed, the Sarrasin
camp within the walls of the château.
They were not to be taken by surprise. For a great array--far greater, I
thought, than came down to the Vale Castle--was collected on the green,
and being divided into companies, had charge of the engines of defence,
or tried the temper of their blades. And I saw others on the wall ready
to roll stones and hot pitch upon their assailants, as is the manner of
defending castles. And amid the companies stalked heavily the Grand
Geoffroy himself in full armour. Could any mistake that great form, and
not feel his presence amid those wild men of so many nations, that his
spirit alone united into one.
"Heigho!" thought I. "Ill knight that seest without being seen; now
without being seen we see thy camp and thee."
As I thought that, his great helm turned our way, and a strange shudder
took my limbs, as he seemed to look upward to our roost, and know us to
be there.
"He sees us," I said to Hugo.
"That were not possible with mortal eyes," said Hugo; "but even evil
beasts are oft aware of the near presence of their foes."
But he had soon to turn his eyes elsewhere, for the Norman assault came
sharp and swift, like the rush of great wild creatures through the
forest. Indeed it was a rare sight--that sweeping mass of chivalry that
seemed to reck naught of the walls, or the arrows, or the balls, or the
pitch that a hundred hands rained down on them. Over the wall they went,
and through the gate that withstood not their charge. O Heaven! they
were not men those Normans, they were storms and floods, they were fire
and mad waves of ocean, that scorn with wild gleefulness the granite
rock and scarped boulder!
I have seen the sea, swept in by a fierce north wind, so triumph over
man's poor defences. I have seen the mad fire catch hold of mart and
dwelling in a blazing town that met Duke William's anger. I saw in the
north the great eygre rush through Lindis' bed, and swamp the peaceful
plain with doom and ruin. Not less resistless, not less vehement was the
first assault of Samson's Normans. And I knew now, as I looked, how, by
fire and spirit more than by numbers, William won the famous day of
Val-ès-dunes, and I might have guessed, had I known what was to hap ere
ten years had run away, what would come to pass below Hastings in
England on the crown of Senlac.
They recked not of death or wounds--where one line fell, another took
its place. Like a river that ceaselessly flows, they swarmed into the
Castle, and closed with the Moors. So it seemed that, overcome by the
ferocity of the onslaught, the Moors soon gave up all effort to defend
the wall, but reinforced the troop that held the crest of the hill, that
contended in a mighty struggle with the invading Normans. This way and
that way the battle surged. Now it seemed they would drive them back
after all, now they themselves were carried backward. Norman and pirate
were mixed strangely together in this fierce conflict. We expected each
moment that the signal for us to join the fray would ring out, but it
came not. It seemed to us that Samson, greedy of honour for his men,
desired to claim the total glory of the victory. But we knew not his
great sagacity, nor what a strength we were to him lying there in
ambush.
But what of Le Grand Geoffroy? We saw him bear the first brunt of the
onset. He rushed then like a flame from line to line. And where he was,
the Moors seemed to rush on to victory. Once Samson and he had met, but
supported by two smart swordsmen, the Sarrasin had retired and left
Samson to them. And now we espied him not, and hoped some hand had
struck him that we saw not. Meanwhile, the Normans made great way, and
drave the enemy back step by step, killing as they went.
Le Grand Geoffroy was neither wounded nor dead! With a great shout he
came forth from the very womb of the earth with another swarm of
warriors at his heels, and we saw that this last reserve had been kept
back to surprise us in the rear. Then, as the great monster rushed in
upon the Normans, while still they poured into the Castle, rang out the
signal on the trumpet, and from our ward of trees we lusty islanders and
zealous monks sprang in to do our share. Here was Hugo, and I his
esquire, in the front rank of them all; here was poor distraught Ralf
clutching his hilt like a man frenzied. Monk, gentleman, farmer, miller,
serf--we all rushed with gladness, that the time at last had come for us
to join the battle, in a great wave of fury on the contingent of relief
that was headed by Geoffroy himself. And well we did our part. For we,
who knew so well the cruelties of the man we fought with, were lifted
up by a great spirit of vengeance that seemed not our own, but Heaven's.
His men reeled at our charge, and left their attack to face us. We
charged, recoiled, and charged again. And this time Hugo and I together
swung grandly face to face with the great monster Geoffroy; and Hugo
slashed nobly at him, and for the space of full four minutes there was
sharp sword-play between them, and I hoped each moment that Hugo would
best him.
But the duel was not fought out, for (as I heard after) so well had the
Normans fought, and so many pirates lay in heaps on the green, that a
great panic at this moment fell upon the pirates, and already, like kine
affrighted by a wild beast, they were rushing headlong through the
northern gate, that some one had unfastened, and pouring down full-tilt
to the Grand Havre, where their ships were, and the Normans were after
them like hounds on the scent, slaying as they went.
Now, this Geoffroy saw, and rushing in strove manfully to stay the
flight. But they were too frantic to hear him or obey. In a moment he
made up his mind.
"Follow my lead, then," I heard him cry to his own reserve; "we will not
stay to be cut down here. To the sea! To the sea!"
He jumped into the saddle of his steed, that stood ready caparisoned,
and was through the southern gate with the pirates on his heels, and we
on theirs, before we were well aware what had happed.
Le Grand Sarrasin was making for his other fleet in Moulin Huet.
And of the Normans and of many of us the pirates had the advantage, for
they wore not much armour. With the wings of desperation they fled
before us seaward over mile on mile of forest and lane. And like a
terrible storm we sped behind. Never again may such a storm rage in
Guernsey lanes and hills.
Some that were ill runners were smitten down by us as they lagged
behind; some that had been wounded before, and were weak from loss of
blood, dropped heavily into the brake on this side or on that; the more
part, as they neared the sea, pressed on faster, cheered now and again
by the voice of their leader far ahead on his horse, as he shouted, "To
the ships! to the ships!"