The War with John
Arthur advanced unmolested with his little force on the road to Anjou,
via Touraine, until he reached Tours. He expected to encounter the first
resistance there; and indeed a considerable armed band did meet him near
the city gate, but not with hostile design. They were knights of Anjou
and Poitou, who had deserted King John and come out of the city to
welcome Arthur. As soon as the Duke came in sight they loudly shouted,
“Hail, all hail, Arthur Plantagenet, King of England!” Both surprised
and delighted, Arthur entered the hospitable city. The people welcomed
him in the most friendly manner and escorted him to the bishop’s palace,
where quarters had been provided for him and his leaders. A grand
banquet, given by the burghers in his honor, closed the day’s
festivities.
The next morning Höel advised the Prince not to indulge too long in
entertainments, nor revel in fancied security, but to hold a serious
council of war at once. Arthur thereupon summoned his leading knights to
the great hall of the palace, where he also appeared, accompanied by the
bishop. As he ascended the steps to the throne seat and took his place,
he was truly regal in person and bearing. Though he wore a simple duke’s
cap, he bore himself with as much dignity as if it were a kingly crown.
Looking around upon the assembly with an air of ease and
self-possession, he said: “Noble knights and gentlemen, thanks for your
readiness and goodwill in coming to my assistance against John, my
usurping uncle. I ask for your advice as to the most effective method of
attacking him. One hundred knights and their followers are here, and in
a few days a like number will be sent us from our loyal Brittany. But,
hardly three days’ journey from here, John has thrice that number of
experienced troops. It would be useless to cope with such a powerful
force before King Philip’s troops join us. That will be soon. If you
agree with me, we will await the King’s arrival here.”
Arthur ceased, and the knights began making suggestions. Höel, the most
experienced of them all, supported his proposal, but the knights of
Anjou and Poitou were not in favor of delay. In the midst of the general
indecision, one of the foremost of them, the Count of Aubigny, advanced
and said: “Duke, permit me to state my plan. Instead of idly awaiting
King Philip here, let us make an advance movement. Not far from here is
the small fortress of Mirabeau, where Queen Eleanor and her garrison are
shut in.”
“Eleanor!” muttered Arthur, with lowering brows and blazing eyes.
“The city is poorly defended,” continued the Count, “though it has for
its champion William Longsword, Earl of Salisbury. But we have captured
two letters from the Queen to John, in which she urgently implores him
to come to her relief, as they cannot hold the city in case of attack.
What is your decision, noble gentlemen? Shall we march to Mirabeau,
surprise the fortress, and take the Queen prisoner?”
The hazardous proposition met with the approval of the majority,
notwithstanding Höel’s protests and Arthur’s advice to wait a day or two
for news from King Philip. They were outvoted, and at last reluctantly
consented rather than subject themselves to the reproach of cowardice.
A few days later, Arthur and his small force reached the walls of
Mirabeau. Höel was assigned to the leadership of the assault, and strove
to conduct the undertaking, which he could not prevent, as judiciously
as possible. The city gates were forced open, and after a short struggle
the assailants advanced into the city. But a more difficult task awaited
them—the capture of the citadel in which Queen Eleanor and her defenders
were sheltered. Höel vainly sought to mass his force and storm the
fortress. While Arthur and Alan advanced with their close-set column of
knights, the others were straggling about the city in quest of plunder.
As Höel with his trusty band approached the citadel tower, he was struck
by a missile hurled from the roof. Höel fell, and the rest stood as if
rooted to the spot. The English took advantage of the occurrence to make
a sally from the tower and threw the ranks of the knights into dire
confusion. Instead of regular battle a fearful hand-to-hand encounter
ensued; but Arthur had time enough when Höel fell to order the nearest
knights to dismount and remove him from the scene of the fighting. He
then turned and commanded Alan to follow his father.
“Never more,” said Alan. “I must follow you as honor demands.”
There was no longer time for words. The advanced rank of the English was
already upon them, and the young heroes stood with drawn swords ready to
meet the onset.
“Sound an alarm!” shouted Arthur to the trumpeters, hoping thereby to
summon the absent knights to their assistance. The call was in vain. Not
a friend appeared. But hark! In the distance another trumpet blast
answered his own.
“What is that?” exclaimed Arthur. But Alan was as ignorant of its
meaning as himself. Suddenly a knight rode forward from the English
side—a stalwart figure on a black steed, motioned his followers to halt,
and pointing with his sword to Arthur, said: “Surrender, Duke of
Brittany. Resistance is useless. The trumpet you have heard announces
the approach of King John’s army. Your confederates are defeated. You
are surrounded, and retreat is cut off.”
“Then I will fight for life and liberty like a true knight,” replied
Arthur. “I will never surrender myself to John.” He rushed upon the
knight, and Alan attacked another. Superior in skill and
self-confidence, Arthur’s adversary acted upon the defensive until the
Duke’s sword point touched his breastplate. Upon this the English knight
no longer restrained himself, but returned blow for blow and thrust for
thrust. During the encounter Arthur’s horse stumbled and fell, carrying
his rider with him. He was on his feet in an instant, but the fastenings
of his helmet were broken in the fall and the Duke’s head was
unprotected. The English knight did not take advantage of this, but
lowered his sword and said: “You have fought bravely and can do no more,
Duke of Brittany. Surrender.”
“To whom?” said Arthur, also lowering his sword.
“To me, William Longsword, Earl of Salisbury.”
“What!” cried Arthur bitterly, “a Plantagenet! How could you have the
heart, cousin, to fight against Henry’s nephew?”
He extended his sword. Salisbury took it, and, gazing at Arthur, said in
a tone of utter astonishment: “By Heaven, his features prove the truth
of his words. Geoffrey, as he was in life!” Then advancing, he said, “My
prince and cousin, most unwillingly I take you prisoner, but you shall
be a prisoner only in name.”
“But how can you satisfactorily explain this to John?” asked Arthur.
“That can be arranged. You may think evil of him, and unfortunately I
cannot altogether defend his course, but he will not tarnish his
knightly honor by abuse of a prisoner. Follow me, Duke Arthur, and rest
assured I shall treat you with the utmost consideration.”
The fighting paused while the two were conversing, and at last Salisbury
gave the order for cessation of battle. But where were those young
knights who had followed Arthur? Scattered, wounded, or captured, they
were forced to declare themselves defeated, like their Duke.
Turning to Arthur, Salisbury asked, “What are your wishes with regard to
your followers?”
“I hope, noble Salisbury, you will arrange matters so that at the close
of the war they may be ransomed and return to their homes. Above all,
care for the Knight Mordant. He fell at the very outset—”
“What!” interposed Salisbury, with the utmost emotion. “My old companion
in arms fallen!”
“And this is his son,” said Arthur, taking Alan by the hand. “Permit him
to attend his father or bury his body.”
Without hesitation Salisbury replied: “He shall go free, and keep his
steed and weapons, if he will give his promise not to fight against
England for a year.”
A stir among those standing near them diverted the attention of the
speakers. Six soldiers came in sight bearing the body of Knight Höel
Mordant prone upon their lances. With a despairing cry Alan bent over
the body, the warriors also showing signs of sorrow at the loss of the
hero. At last Alan rose and said with trembling voice: “I no longer
desire my liberty. Let me remain with my Duke.”
But Arthur answered: “For my sake, Alan, accept the Earl’s offer. Hasten
to my wife and mother and urge my friends to send a ransom to John, that
I may be released. Take this ring. You know who gave it to me. He has
the power to help me.” Arthur took Abraham’s ring from his finger and
placed it upon Alan’s. When Alan would have offered objection, Arthur
said for the first time in a tone of command, “I wish it.” As his loyal
friend sorrowfully bowed in submission, Arthur stretched out his arms
and embraced him. They remained thus until Alan looked upon Arthur with
sad eyes and tore himself away.
At Salisbury’s signal his men escorted him and the Duke to the gate of
the tower, in front of which guards were stationed with crossed
halberds. As they approached, the guards lowered their weapons and
admitted them. Out of the brilliant glow of the evening sky Arthur
entered the gloom of the vaulted passage. Salisbury quickly followed
him, and the Duke of Brittany was a prisoner.
Alan remained immovable upon his steed as long as he could see a trace
of Arthur’s retreating figure, but when it disappeared behind the dark
walls, he gave spurs to his horse and galloped at full speed through the
city and out into the country toward Paris.