ADVENTURES IN THE FIELD
I have related how, when the French marshals advanced towards the
vineyard at Mapertuis, with the object of forcing the position occupied
by the Prince of Wales, Sir Eustace d'Ambreticourt, and James, Lord
Audley, being both eager to signalise their prowess in front of the
battle, spurred forth to encounter the approaching foe; and I will now
relate the adventures which befell them in the field.
It was the ambition of Ambreticourt to be the first to engage the
enemy that day; and, while Lord Audley was pushing forward against the
marshals, the Hainaulter fixed his shield, laid his lance in rest,
and, spurring his steed, galloped towards the battalion of German
cavalry. As he did so, Louis von Coucibras, a German knight, observing
his approach, dashed out from the ranks of the Count of Nassau, and
met him in mid career. The shock was so violent that both of them were
unhorsed and rolled to the ground; but Ambreticourt, so far, had the
best of the encounter. In fact, the German, who was severely wounded in
the shoulder, could not rise; and Sir Eustace, springing nimbly to his
feet, hastened towards his prostrate antagonist. But here his fortune
for awhile deserted him; for at that moment five German horsemen rode
forward, struck the Hainaulter to the ground, seized him as their
prisoner, and carried him to the Count of Nassau. Much less attention,
however, was paid to Ambreticourt than he considered was his due.
Indeed, the Germans very coolly took some pieces of harness, tied him
to one of their cars, and left him in that unworthy plight while the
conflict was raging before his eyes.
For hours Sir Eustace d'Ambreticourt remained fastened, like a dog, to
the car. But at length he was released when the Prince of Wales, from
defending his position, became the assailant, and, mounting his black
steed, made that splendid charge which bore down all opposition, and
scattered the German cavalry as the hawk does pigeons. Ambreticourt was
recognised by his own men, rescued, and remounted. Nor did the brave
knight fail to make up for lost time. Many were the gallant deeds he
performed; many were the prisoners he took; and, when the battle was
over, no one could boast more truly of having done his duty.
But it was to Lord Audley that the prize of valour fell; for meanwhile
he was by no means idle. Attended by his four squires, he commenced
operations by charging the battalion of the marshals as they advanced
into the narrow lane, and, sword in hand, wrought wonders. After
fighting for a considerable time with Lord d'Andreghen, whom he handled
with more roughness than the French marshal had been accustomed to
experience, he precipitated himself into the very thickest of the
conflict--not hesitating to encounter any odds. Soon his face and body
were severely wounded; but he still continued to advance, and fought on
till he was covered with blood; and it was not till the close of the
battle that he yielded to fatigue and loss of strength, and sheathed
his sword. By that time, indeed, he was easily managed; and his four
squires, leading him out of the crowd, conducted him to the side of a
hedge, and, lifting him from his horse, placed him gently under a tree
that he might recover his breath. Having done this, they took off his
armour, examined his wounds, dressed them, and, sewing up the most
dangerous, procured a litter to convey him to his tent.
Now, in the hour of victory, the Prince of Wales did not forget Lord
Audley, and the vow which that morning he had fared forth to perform.
When he was seated in the pavilion of red silk, and had despatched Lord
Cobham and the Earl of Warwick to ascertain the fate of John of Valois,
he turned to the knights and squires who were around him.
"Does any one know what has become of the Lord James Audley?" asked the
prince with much interest.
"Yes, my lord," replied I; "I have seen him. He is very badly wounded,
and lying in a litter hard by."
"By my troth," said the prince, "I grieve to hear he is so sore
wounded. But hasten to him, I beg you, and see if he is able to be
carried hither; otherwise I will, without delay, go and visit him."
I hastened from the pavilion, and found the wounded warrior.
"My lord," said I, "the prince is most desirous of seeing you."
"A thousand thanks to the prince for condescending to remember so poor
a knight as myself," replied Lord Audley; and having summoned eight
of his servants, he ordered them to carry him in his litter into the
prince's presence.
As the litter was borne into the pavilion the Prince of Wales rose,
and tears stood in his blue eyes as he bent over the wounded man and
embraced him.
"My Lord James," said he with emotion, "I am bound to honour you very
much, for this day, by your valour, you have acquired glory and renown
above us all, and you have proved yourself the most puissant and the
bravest of knights."
"Sir," replied Lord Audley, "you have a right to say whatever you
please, and I wish it were as you have said. But if I have this day
been forward to serve you, it has been to accomplish a vow, and it
ought not to be so much thought of."
"My Lord James," said the prince, "I and all the rest of us deem that
you have shown yourself the bravest knight on our side in this battle;
and I, to mark my appreciation of your valour, and to furnish you with
the means of pursuing your career of renown, retain you henceforth, for
ever, as my knight, with five hundred marks of yearly revenue, which I
will secure to you upon my estates in England."
"Sir," replied Lord Audley, his voice faltering as he spoke, "may God
make me deserving of the good fortune you bestow on me!"
By this time Lord Audley found that the interview was becoming more
than his remaining strength would enable him to bear; and, after taking
leave of the prince, he was carried by his servants from the pavilion.
Scarcely had he disappeared when a hurried whisper ran round; and the
Prince of Wales, rising with a dignity which no prince in Christendom,
not even his own great father, could have rivalled or imitated, turned
his face towards the entrance; and, as he did so, before him stood
a warrior, with his crest broken and his armour bruised and stained,
leading a boy by the hand.
It was John of Valois, with his youngest son, Philip of Burgundy.
And the prince, making a low obeisance, said--
"All hail the boldest and most determined champion among the chivalry
of France!"