THE FIRST ATTACK ON CASTLE THURON.
It is doubtful if a nation or a military commander is strengthened by
securing an ally, even though that ally be powerful. One determined man
will wage war with more success than will a committee that commands a
larger force. A general with an ally must be ever thinking of what that
ally will do, or will not do. He is hampered at every turn, and must be
careful not to take too much glory to himself or show himself a better
warrior than the other.
As those within Castle Thuron afterwards discovered, what happened on
the morning of the first attack was this. Count Bertrich in his original
visit to Thuron and his ignominious departure therefrom, saw with quick
military eye, which he allowed no personal feeling to obscure, that the
gate, narrow though it was, offered the best means of capturing the
stronghold. Once that was battered down, there would be a hot fight in
the outer courtyard, then, resistance being overpowered by numbers, the
castle belonged to the assaulters. His plan was approved by the
Archbishop, who, however, was annoyed to find that his colleague of
Cologne desired that Heinrich should be summoned in due form to
surrender peacefully before hostilities commenced. To this proposal von
Isenberg had to accede, and he did so the more readily as Bertrich
assured him that the hot-tempered Count would make some insulting reply
which would offend the northern Archbishop when it was reported to him.
Although the cautious Arnold was usually most scrupulous in his
observance of forms and ceremonies, he had been so angered in this
instance, first by the successful flight of his ward, from under his
very roof, and second by the contemptuous defiance of himself by his
vassal, Heinrich of Thuron, whom he had always hated, that he was now
eager to recover lost prestige, and to accomplish by instant
overwhelming force the downfall of the Black Count. He was the less
particular in this matter as it never occurred to him that his action
might possibly come up for review and judgment by his own nominal
over-lord the Emperor, for no Emperor in recent ages had commanded the
slightest respect. When it is remembered that twenty-two years before
the election of Rodolph, the Archbishop of Treves had captured the
capital itself, Frankfort being the place where the election of Emperor
was held, and, keeping the Archbishops of Cologne and Mayence outside
the gates, proceeded himself to elect an Emperor, while the shut-out
electors met under the walls and solemnly elected another, some idea may
be formed of the slight influence an Emperor had over his proud and
powerful vassals.
It was arranged that the force on the heights to the south of Thuron,
concealed in the forest, should be augmented by others from the plain by
the river, comprising a company of crossbow men and a troop of lancers,
the first to harass the garrison while the gate was being battered down,
the second to storm the castle when a breach was made for them. The
attack was to be delivered when the embassy had retired after receiving
the contumacious reply of Count Heinrich. The assault was to have been
led by Count Bertrich and the envoy of Cologne, but when the two had
reached the shelter of the forest, Bertrich's colleague refused to take
part in the fray, until he had first acquainted his master with the
purport of the conference at the gate of Thuron. By this time Count
Bertrich felt that he had come badly off in his diplomatic bout with the
Black Count, and the knowledge maddened him. He therefore told his ally
that Cologne might do as he pleased, but Treves would attack
immediately, and the two Archbishops might settle details after the
castle was captured. Bertrich believed that his success in taking the
fortress would more than blot out any resentment his master might feel
for his failure in diplomacy, as he well knew the state of Arnold von
Isenberg's mind regarding Count Heinrich; furthermore, he had not the
slightest doubt that with the forces at his command, he would speedily
be in possession of Castle Thuron.
So the envoy of the Archbishop of Cologne, attended by his guard, passed
through the forest into the ravine of the Thaurand, and thus up to the
heights of the Bieldenburg, where the tent of his master was situated.
Rodolph and Heinrich were still standing on the platform above the gate
when they saw emerging from the forest a monster closely resembling the
dragons which were supposed to infest the Rhine, but from whose baleful
presence the Moselle had hitherto been free. Rodolph gazed at its coming
with astonishment in his eyes, and the swarthy countenance of the Count
seemed almost to blanch, for although that courageous man was not afraid
of the Archbishops and their armies, he was in deadly fear of dragons.
If their Lordships had invoked the aid of such, then was Thuron indeed
doomed. But as the apparition came nearer it proved to be a huge oaken
tree, stripped of its bark, advancing, butt foremost, towards the
castle. On the underpart all the limbs had been lopped off, but at each
side of it the branches remained, stripped of leaves and twigs,
sprouting out like the fins of a gigantic fish to right and left. The
great tree was borne aloft on the shoulders of more than twoscore men,
who were distributed equally on either side of it, and so it advanced
slowly, with its white body and gaunt branches, like an enormous
centipede. It was evidently the intention of the carriers to throw the
tree from their shoulders at the gate, and then taking it by the
branches, half a dozen or more at each limb, swing it back and forth,
using it as a battering ram to force in the gate. The men carrying this
monster oak had still breath enough left to cheer as they advanced, and
Count Bertrich, in the full armour he had worn at the conference, rode
by the side of this strange procession encouraging the bearers by word
and motion of the sword. From out of the wood, like the first flakes of
a snow storm driven by a gale, came bolts from crossbows, the pioneer
shafts falling far short of the walls, but gradually coming nearer as
the bowmen the better estimated the distance. Bertrich waved his sword
at those in the forest, indicating that a closer approach would please
him better, and by and by the bolts began to strike against the walls
and even fall into the courtyard.
The Black Count, as soon as he was assured that he had to contend with
the things of this world only, took on at once the mien of a true
commander. He ordered up his catapult men, and two stalwart fellows were
speedily at the levers of the engine, working back the flexible arms of
timber which acted as motive power for the huge balls of stone. As the
bolts from the crossbows began to fall here and there on the walls,
Heinrich turned to Rodolph and curtly ordered him to seek another
portion of the castle.
"I am very well where I am," answered the Emperor. "I wish to see the
result of the attack, and am also anxious to watch your practice with
this engine."
The Black Count bent a look upon the younger man that was not pleasant
to behold, but before he could speak again the other added hastily:
"I am wrong, my Lord; I go at once."
"When you have armour on you, I shall be glad of your company," said
Heinrich, in a tone less truculent than his glance.
The Emperor, fearing to miss the issue of the fight, did not betake
himself to the armoury to fit a suit to his body, but mounted to his
eyrie on the south tower, where he found the archer watching the
approach of the enemy with great interest. The catapult was at work, but
doing no execution. It seemed impossible to predict where one of the
huge pieces of rock it flung would alight; some went crashing into the
forest and perhaps had an influence in frightening the crossbow men,
although there was little indication of any such result, for the bolts
came as thickly as ever, and were now so truly aimed that they harassed
the defenders on the walls. The majority of the granite balls, however,
fell to the right of the approaching party and bounded harmlessly down
the hill. Meanwhile the men at the levers worked like demons after each
shot, and so hard was their labour that others had to take their places
after a few rounds. There was no question that if they once succeeded in
getting the range, and dropped a few of the boulders on the procession
they would speedily demoralise it, but those carrying the tree not only
moved forward, but advanced in a zig-zag fashion, that made marksmanship
difficult, even had the cumbrous instrument lent itself to accurate
aiming, which it did not. The Emperor saw at once that Heinrich should
have had several catapults over the gate instead of one, for the
interval after each discharge was quite long enough for great advances
to be made between shots. Also Heinrich was weak in having no men of the
crossbow. This siege had come upon him so suddenly that there had been
scant time for the training or arming of crossbow men, and in his
marauding expeditions he had never needed them. It was also evident that
his men were unaccustomed to catapult work. The castle had never before
been attacked, and although the engines had long been part of the
equipment of the walls, yet had there been no occasion heretofore to use
them. So the Count fought at a grievous disadvantage, and was well aware
of the fact, for he worked like a madman, sometimes even handling the
levers himself, when a man was injured by the flying bolts, or showed
signs of exhaustion. The men themselves, although they worked doggedly
under the eyes of the Count, gave no answering cheer when the besiegers
shouted their exultation at the erratic work of the stone-heaver, and
the crossbow brigade now issued from the forest, and boldly planted the
stakes on which their weapons rested in the open, concentrating their
bolts on those who manned the only engine of defence. One valiant
crossbow man, panting for distinction under the eye of a leader who was
quick to recognise bravery, ran with weapon and stake far ahead of those
coming with the battering ram, planted his stake not more than a score
of lance lengths from the gate, and began to prepare for a trial at
close quarters. This so enraged the Black Count that he seized one of
the great spheres of stone, and not waiting to place it in the slow
engine, hoisted it up and poising it for one brief second above his
head, as he stood on the edge of the parapet, flung it with such
accuracy and such tremendous force, that it rolled at great speed
towards the man, who turned and fled in terror, leaving his weapon and
stake behind him, amidst the jeers of his own comrades, and the first
cheer that went up from the garrison.
"Wait till we get the villains under us at the gate, and we will need no
catapult," roared Heinrich, in a voice of thunder; and indeed, here was
a danger that made the attacking party pause for a moment until urged on
again by their intrepid leader.
When Rodolph arrived at the top of the tower, the archer looked up at
him with an expression of inquiry, and seemed not too well pleased with
his coming. On the ledge of the stone coping, the Emperor saw arrayed
with nice precision a dozen arrows, all an equal distance apart. The bow
was in Surrey's hand, strung and ready for action, but his jaw dropped
on seeing the Emperor, who gazed at the mathematically arranged display
on the coping with a smile curling his lip.
"John Surrey," he said, "I trust it was not your intention to molest the
Archbishop's troops without command of your superior officer."
"Well, my Lord," replied the archer, in a hesitating tone most unusual
with him, "it is difficult to see so pretty a fight in progress and not
do something to the furthering of it. The Archbishop has a hundred
bowmen, such as they are, while his Darkness does not appear to have
one, if I am not to be allowed to draw string."
"But we have no quarrel with the Archbishop, John."
"Indeed, my Lord," answered Surrey, bitterly, "you forgot that, when you
ordered me to bend bow against his two men-at-arms on the hill yonder."
"True, true, so I did, and right well you acquitted yourself. Can you do
the same from this height?"
"Can I? My fingers were just getting beyond my control when you came up.
No man could wish better shooting than is here to his hand."
"We will wait a little and see if they cannot do better with the
catapult. They need some practice, and will never have a finer
opportunity."
"Look you, my Lord, at the crossbow shooting. Did you ever see the air
so thick and so little damage done? 'Tis a most contemptible instrument,
as I have before averred to you, and now you can see its uselessness for
yourself. A body of English archers would have had the castle taken and
the Count well hanged long ere this."
"I hardly see how archers alone could scale the battlements, however
expert they might be; but perhaps they project each other over stone
walls attached to their arrows; they do such wonderful things in
England."
"I make bold to inform you, my Lord, that----"
"I do not doubt it. Let us watch the fight."
When the cheer went up that greeted the hurling of the stone, and the
very precipitate flight of the jeopardised crossbow man, the Emperor
turned to the offended and silent archer and said:
"Now is your time, John. Show them what true marksmanship is, and
remember the eyes of Germany are on you, or presently will be."
The archer needed no second bidding. Rubbing his right foot on the roof
to make certain against slipping, then standing squarely with feet the
correct distance apart, in a position where the arrows laid out were
ready to his hand, Surrey, with tightly set lips and wrinkled brow,
launched shaft after shaft in marvellously quick succession. The first
man at the butt end of the log on the right hand side fell, pierced in
the neck downwards through the body. The second man on the same side
dropped, then the third, then the fourth, then the fifth. The sixth man
jumped, with a yell of terror, to one side, leaving his place, while the
remainder not understanding what had happened, straining to uphold their
increased burden, at last gave way, and the falling log pinned many of
them to the ground.
The archer, the frenzy of killing in his eye, a veritable angel of death
on the tower, shouted sharply to the Emperor, as if Rodolph were his
menial, "Scatter more arrows on the coping," and his Majesty promptly
obeyed.
Into the midst of the now panic-stricken crowd, that a moment before had
so proudly borne aloft the oaken tree, Surrey sped his winged
messengers, each bringing forth a yell of pain or an expiring groan.
Count Bertrich, lashing about him with the flat of his sword, tried to
stay the flight of his men, but without avail.
"Roll the log from your comrades, you cowardly dogs, and then fly if you
must!" he shouted, but his commands were unheeded.
"Shoot none of those pinned to the ground," cried the Emperor.
"Have you ever seen me shoot a helpless man or horse--except
Bertrich's?" cried the insulted archer. "More arrows and less talk."
"Discipline and respect have both gone for the time being," said Rodolph
to himself, with a chuckle, as he placed arrows from the pile along the
coping. The thought of Bertrich's horse turned the archer's attention to
that thoroughly enraged commander. One arrow glanced from Bertrich's
shoulder, and another struck him squarely on the side of the head,
shattering itself, but dealing a staggering blow to the Count. Bertrich
shook aloft his sword defiantly at the man on the tower, and received a
third arrow in his sleeve which came perilously near to be the undoing
of him.
"Shoot me that archer on the tower!" he said, to his crossbow men. "Let
one bolt at least among the hundreds you have wasted account for
itself."
But the order was more easy to give than to obey. The crossbow is not
suited to upward firing, for if a man uses a stake, he must lie down to
shoot at a height. Surrey, however, turned with an exultant laugh
towards those bowmen who had the courage to try conclusions with him,
and pinned three to the earth while the others took to flight leaving
their cumbrous weapons behind them. A moment later the surviving
crossbow men were safe in the forest.
Count Bertrich, to whom the archer again turned his attention, sprang
from his horse, paying little heed to the shafts, and, going to the tail
end of the log, exerted his great strength, pulling it partly from those
nearest him, who, getting up, sorely bruised as they were, lent a hand
and rolled the log from the others.
"Stop!" cried the Emperor to the archer, in a tone of voice which left
no doubt that authority had returned to its usual habitation.
Surrey paused, and turned a sweat-bedewed face towards his master.
"I am not hurting him," he protested, dolefully, "and it is excellent
practice."
"You need no practice, John; and the day is triumphantly yours and yours
alone. Never will I believe there lives on this earth a greater bowman,
be he English or the devil himself."
"Ah," cried the archer, drawing a long breath of deep satisfaction, "if
you could but see Roger Kent. God grant that he is not with yonder crowd
on the plain, or some of us will never set foot out of Thuron."
Black Heinrich stood gazing up at the round tower, an unkempt figure,
after his great but fruitless exertions. Rodolph waved his hand to him,
and leaning over the coping cried:
"How like you our catapult, my Lord?"
"In truth it is amazing. Guard the archer well, and see he does not
expose himself. I will burn this clumsy implement and cook our dinners
at the fire. 'Tis all it's fit for."
"Your men are not in practice. Give it another chance."
When the log was rolling away, many who were under it lay prone on the
ground, crushed to death. Count Bertrich approached the gate on foot,
his hand upraised, unheeding the catapult which Heinrich kept his men
steadily working, saying that if Bertrich did not give in, he would not
cease battle, being less chivalrous toward a brave enemy than Rodolph
had proved himself.
"My Lord of Thuron," cried Bertrich, when within hearing distance,
"although there is little chance of harm, we know not what accidents may
arise, so I beg you to stop your practice, as some of my poor fellows,
sorely hurt already, may suffer if I do not formally proclaim our defeat
to you. I have no flag of truce with me, and, therefore, ask you to
overlook informality, and give me the opportunity of conveying away my
dead and wounded."
"Your request is granted, my Lord," said Heinrich, telling his men to
cease their efforts, "and I hope that to-day's check will not deprive us
of the happiness of meeting you again."
"From what I have seen of your own military skill, my Lord, we might in
perfect safety camp within lance length of your gate."
With which interchange of civilities Bertrich strode back to attend to
the removal of those who were injured, while the Black Count, moodily
cursing his catapult, said to his men:
"Follow me to the north tower. We shall see if the engine there is no
surer than this one."
As the Count strode away Rodolph joined him, and Heinrich explained
half apologetically that he was about to test all the other catapults in
the castle.
"I am going to heave a stone into the Archbishop's big tent, if you have
no objection," said the Count.
"None in the least," cried the Emperor, "providing the projecting
machine is equally willing."
A round stone was put in place, when the levers had done their duty, and
Heinrich himself discharged the shot. The formidable projectile
described an arc over the profound valley of the Thaurand, struck fairly
the western end of the huge tent, and disappeared within it, leaving a
ragged hole to attest its passage.
"Ah, that is better," said the Black Count in a tone of exultant
satisfaction.