GOBIN AGACE
In a former chapter I mentioned that, among the places taken by the
King of England, during his victorious and exciting march through
France, was Poix, a town of Picardy, about six leagues from Amiens.
The Lord of Poix was absent; and the captain of his castle, not having
the means of holding out, surrendered almost without resistance, and
allowed the fortress to be entered by the English soldiers at a time
when they were flushed with victory and wine.
It happened that, when the castle was taken, there were within its
walls two demoiselles, daughters of the Lord of Poix, and very
handsome. Great was the danger of these ladies at this moment; for the
invaders, as I have said, were then highly excited with their triumphs,
and in no humour to pay excessive respect to female virtue. Fortunately
for the ladies of Poix, I had been one of the first to foot the walls
of the castle and make my way into the interior; and, aware of the
danger in which the demoiselles were placed, I posted myself before
them, and, vowing to protect them, prepared, sword in hand, to defend
their honour with my life. I confess, however, that I felt, to my
consternation, that my influence in their behalf was not likely long to
prevail under the circumstances.
"A murrain take the madcap page!" cried one man-at-arms, frowning on me
fiercely.
"Make way," shouted another, with a hoarse laugh, "and let me advance
to console the fair ones in their jeopardy."
"Only over my body," answered I, as my blood boiled with indignation,
and I brandished my sword.
"Down with the jackanapes!" exclaimed the first speaker, making a
thrust at me with a spear.
I parried the attack, and my stubborn courage was not without its
effect. Nevertheless, it was evident that my resistance could not
long avail to save the noble demoiselles from insult, and I was just
giving way to despair, when Sir John Chandos, a knight of great fame,
made his appearance. Not without difficulty, he appeased the soldiers,
and, having rescued the young ladies from their dangerous position,
conducted them to the king. At his request I accompanied him to the
royal presence, and Edward received them with chivalrous courtesy.
"We do not make war on women," said the king; "and I am bound to
protect you against all dangers. But, if there is any stronghold to
which you wish to be conducted, name the place, and thither you shall
be escorted without delay."
"To Corbie," was the reply.
"It shall be as you wish," said Edward; and then turning to Sir Thomas
Norwich, he added with a smile, "Sir Thomas, be yours the honour of
escorting the noble demoiselles to the castle whither they wish to
proceed."
"Sire," replied the knight, "I will, to the best of my ability, fulfil
your command."
I was, much to my satisfaction, ordered to accompany Sir Thomas Norwich
on this expedition; and, finding myself acting as a protector of noble
damsels of grace and beauty, began to consider myself a great hero of
romance, and was, on our return, indulging in the luxury of building
castles in the air, when we encountered a party of armed peasants.
After a short skirmish we overcame, with little difficulty, the rustic
militia, and took them in a body as captives to the English camp.
Now this led to important consequences. While running my eye over the
prisoners, I remarked one stout fellow, whose countenance struck me as
being more intelligent than that of his comrades; and, not without a
vague hope of extracting from him such information as might be welcome
to the prince, and of service to the king, I singled him out from the
party, and entered into conversation.
"What is your name?" asked I.
"Gobin Agace," was his answer.
"You are our prisoner," observed I significantly.
"Yes," said he; "but you may have heard the story of the mouse that
gnawed the toils in which the lion was caught, and set the lion free."
"And how does that concern the business now in hand?"
"Much," answered the peasant; "for such a service as the mouse rendered
to the lion, I can, I believe, render to your king."
"Ha! by St. George, I perceive!" exclaimed I, much gratified. "Being
a native of this country, you have such knowledge of the fords on the
Somme as would secure you an ample reward."
"In that respect," said the young peasant, "I could render your king a
service that would be worth my weight in gold; and, if you will lead
me to his presence, I will convince you that I am not speaking as a
braggart might."
It was evening when we reached Oisemont, where King Edward was now
quartered, and rode into the town with our captives. We were just in
time. Immediately after, the king held a council; and, having ordered
the prisoners to be brought before him that they might be questioned,
he addressed them courteously.
"Good fellows," said he, "do any of you know a ford on the Somme, below
Abbeville, where I and my army could pass without danger? Whoever,"
added Edward, "will show us such a ford shall have his own liberty, and
that of any twenty of his fellow-captives whom he may select."
At this point Gobin Agace, whom I had instructed, stepped forward and
bent his head.
"Sire," began he, "I do know such a ford, and I promise, under peril of
life, that I will conduct you to a place where you and your whole army
may pass the Somme without any risk."
"Go on," said the king, inspired with a new hope by the peasant's words.
"There are certain fordable places," continued Gobin Agace, "where you
may pass, twelve men abreast, twice in the day, and not have water
above your knees. When the tide is in, the river is full and deep, and
no one can cross it; but, when the tide is out, the river is so low
that it may be passed on horseback or on foot without danger. You must,
therefore, set out early, so as to be at the ford before sunrise."
"And what call you this ford?" asked the king.
"Sire," replied the peasant, "the bottom of the ford is very hard, of
white gravel and stones over which all your carriages may safely pass,
and thence it is called Blanche-taque."
"Friend," said the king joyfully, "if what you have told me is found to
be true, I will give you and all your companions their liberty, and I
will besides make you a present of one hundred nobles."
It now seemed that the safety of the King of England and his
army depended on the accuracy of Gobin Agace's information as to
Blanche-taque; and Edward gave orders that, at daybreak, every man
should be ready, at the first sound of the trumpet, to march towards
the Somme, and make the grand experiment.