IV
The Besiegers' Quarrel—The Mangonel Erected—A Consultation—Amabel's Advice—Edgar Loses His Hat—The Artillery of the Castle—Hugh's Foresight Rewarded—Artillery Practice—The Friar's Shooting— The Count's Impatience— The Palisade Is Taken—A Covered Way Is Dug—The Danger of a Rear Attack—A Lull in the Fight.
CHAPTER IV
The Count, seeing that the attack had failed, ordered the recall to be sounded; and it was promptly obeyed. In fact, many of the besiegers began their retreat without the need of any signal. When the retreat was a certainty, Hugh and his men came cautiously out of an opening left in the palisade, and by shooting at those men who were carrying the scaling-ladders and beams, put them to flight. Then, before the retreating men were bold enough to interfere, Hugh and his men destroyed the ladders by chopping them to pieces, and piling up several of the long beams together set fire to them by means of torches of twisted rope coated with pitch and soaked with oil. Hugh himself meanwhile stood on a little eminence to make sure that none of his men were cut off and captured.
When Luke the Lurdane returned from the attack he was too angry to go to the Count. But the Count sent for him, and, seeing his follower's bad temper, was fair enough to admit his mistake and his rashness.
"Luke, my man," he said, "you were right and I was wrong, and we have paid dearly for it. They tell me that we have lost a hundred men, one way or another, and that without killing a man of the garrison or cracking a stone of the fortress. It is too high a price to pay for my wrongheadedness. I still think that with brave men we might have overrun the defenses; but these villains of ours have no stomach for hard fighting, and no honor to lose by saving their pestilent hides. So have your own way. If we must smash that chicken-coop before taking the Red Lion by the beard, why, get out your trebuchets and rain rocks upon it till it is splinters. Meanwhile, I'll to dinner."
Luke needed no further encouragement. Sending for the artificers, he chose a rocky knoll that was screened by a light growth of trees, and upon this set up the frame of a mangonel—one of those powerful pieces of artillery that then took the place of cannon.
The men worked busily in putting the great beams together, adjusting the ropes and pulleys, fitting the levers, greasing or oiling the moving parts, and last attaching the weights that gave force to the long lever, more than forty feet long, that was to sweep through the air, and discharge great stones as a boy shoots beans from a sling. Their work lasted until nightfall, and it was dark before the mangonel stood ready to do its destructive duty. Meanwhile no further attempt was made against the castle, and the garrison, seeing this, withdrew all but the sentinels, of whom there were twice the usual number, so that no point might be neglected.
Edgar saw that the easy repulse of the first attack had greatly encouraged the defenders, and was careful not to dash their enthusiasm. Yet he warned them that there was much more serious work to come, and told them that against so strong a force, every man must be prepared to do his utmost. As there was plenty of food in the castle, even should the siege be a long one, Edgar ordered that a lavish dinner be served, and did all he could to raise the hearts of the younger recruits. One or two had received slight wounds from bolts or arrows, but when these had been cared for by the women, the injured men regarded their hurts rather as marks of honor than as anything to regret. The boards upon which the dinner was served were removed promptly, and the men of the castle went early to bed in order that they might be well rested for the struggle of the morrow. But Edgar and Hugh sat late discussing all that could be learned from the first day's fight.
"The Count must be but a sorry warrior," Hugh remarked, "to think that he could take this place by a storm and an escalade. And leaving us there before the barbican to strike down his men as they went by in ranks seems too stupid for a belted knight."
Edgar admitted this, but asserted that all this might be but the impatience of a hot-headed leader.
"The Count did not expect us to fight with great skill," said he. "And, indeed, were it not for you, Hugh, he might have succeeded. The defense of the barbican was not only your doing, but your planning."
"It was naught," Hugh replied modestly. "Any soldier of two campaigns might do as much. You have seen little or no fighting, and you overpraise me for but the every-day matters of defense. Let us think of the morrow. What, if you were the attacking party, would you do, young lord?"
"Do?" Edgar repeated. "I should be a dunce if I had not learned my lesson to-day. If I were the Count I should destroy your palisade as best and quickest I could. One could send axmen against it, and though a few would be lost, they would be men well spent."
Amabel Manners, who was sitting near by with Lady Mortimer, at work upon some sewing, laughed at this remark of Edgar's, whereupon he asked her what she found amusing in his speech.
"I was thinking," she said, "that if you consulted me, I would give more cowardly counsel. To rush upon the defenders and be killed is not at all to my taste. I should be an artilleryman, were I a soldier, and stay beyond bowshot. I heard the whistling of the arrows to-day, and was glad of the good thick stone walls that protected me!"
Lady Mortimer here interposed, saying to Amabel reprovingly: "If we are to disturb the men with our talk, we had best withdraw. Quiet counsel for troubled times."
But Edgar said generously, "Amabel is right, mother. Though she speaks in jest, she speaks words of gold. I understand her meaning. She would say that one need not risk men to destroy what can be broken by throwing stones upon it. She is right. And if when daylight comes again we see a mangonel set up within range of the castle, that will be a proof of her woman's wit."
Soon after Lady Mortimer and Amabel went to their own rooms, and Hugh drawing out his map, spread it upon the table, while Edgar and he consulted as to where the besiegers were likely to place their artillery. After much discussion, they marked two points as the most likely, and then Edgar gave orders that two mangonels of their own should be erected on the castle, commanding both of these positions.
Men were at once set to work by torchlight, and by morning the machines were in place, though the besiegers under cover of the darkness fired not a few bolts from their crossbows in the hope of interrupting or making difficult whatever work was going forward. Edgar had a narrow escape, his hat being carried off by an arrow, but that was the only damage inflicted, since the workmen kept as much as possible behind the merlons or solid parts of the battlements, and the openings or embrasures were closed by heavy mantelets of planks.
These mantelets were thick boards framed together and hinged so that they could be raised when the archers were discharging their arrows through the embrasures, or could be closed to protect the garrison against missiles coming from without, when at work behind the battlements.
As soon as it was light enough to see clearly, the besiegers cut down the trees that had until then hidden their mangonel from the garrison, and at once their engineers began to make the great engine ready for action. The commander of the castle congratulated Hugh upon the use made of the little map, for it was seen that the place chosen by the besiegers for the mangonel was one of those Hugh had marked for it. Consequently the besiegers had been forestalled, and one of the castle engines was already in place to reply to the hostile mangonel. Edgar heard the creaking of the wheels and tackles as the long lever was drawn back ; then came the thud of the great beam, and an enormous rock was thrown through the air. and fell against one side of the castle gate, being shattered into rattling fragments.
"Ah!" said Hugh, "they have overshot the mark. Now while they are adjusting their aim for a second shot, we will see if they cannot be reached by one of our little messengers!"
In a moment their own mangonel was loaded, and after Hugh had carefully aimed at the other one, it was discharged. The rock could be seen rising high in the air for a few moments, and then it came down, falling more and more swiftly until it was heard to crash into the woods beyond. They also had overshot their mark.
Then, to their own surprise, they saw a rock discharged from their other mangonel, which stood on the walls at the further end of the castle. This one fell nearer to the enemy's mangonel, although it had been fired from a greater distance. Edgar walked along the battlements and passed through a tower room, to see why the others had put their mangonel in action. To his amazement, he found Friar Bacon directing the second weapon. The friar smiled as he saw the young lord's surprise.
"I have had some interest in these weapons for several years," said he. "And I have devised a means of increasing their range." And he explained to Edgar how, by raising the lever in the fulcrum, or pivot on which the great throwing arm turned, he was able to make it go through a longer arc, and thus give added force to its throw. "Of course," the friar explained, "there is nothing new in this idea, but I have studied out exactly how long each side of the throwing-beam should be in order to get the best results. You can see for yourself that this mangonel carries further than you had supposed, and we can direct our fire against their machine without their even seeing where the opposing one is placed."
Edgar at once sent one of the men to call Hugh, and the new device was explained to him. He approved it heartily, but objected that they would have to direct their missiles by guess-work.
"Not at all," the friar answered. "Let me have a small boy to call out where the stones fall, and we can correct our aim by his reports."
While these arrangements were being made, a second shot was projected by the besiegers, and a cheer from their ranks showed that it had reached its mark. When Edgar and Hugh ran to examine the palisade, they found that a gap had been made, three of the tree-trunks having been knocked out of place. But Hugh laughed at this. "Those tree-trunks will have cost them two days already," said he. "We put them up to be knocked down."
Then two stones were discharged almost at the same moment from the mangonels on the castle wall, and both fell so near the besiegers' engine that the workmen ran for their lives.
"Good!" cried Edgar. "Aim a little closer, and we shall wreck the mangonel itself."
Friar Bacon, taking a lever from one of the soldiers, moved his mangonel slightly, and then it was again loaded and discharged. There was a pause as the stone flew upward, and then they heard a crash, and a cheer from the defenders. The enemy's mangonel had been struck, and one of the supporting timbers was cut in two.
Friar Bacon who came out upon the battlements to see for himself the result of the shot, smiled grimly.
"That will give us time for breakfast," he remarked; "three hours will be none too much to replace that bit of wood, work as fast as they may."
"You may go to the hall for breakfast if you like," Hugh answered. "Your shot has earned so much for you; but I shall keep them busy until you return, and then, while I eat, you can ply your weapon."
So one mangonel was kept at work, while the other remained ready to relieve it in turn. Having at last found the range, a rock was dropped near the besiegers' engineers often enough to keep them busy watching. But little more damage was inflicted on their mangonel, though it was several times struck by glancing blows, and a few of the operators were disabled by fragments of rock as they descended.
Luke the Lurdane, who was in command, was not satisfied with the results, and gave orders that a way into the forest should be made for the big machine, by cutting some of the trees along the road.
"There," said he, "we can fire from under cover. Here we are too fair a mark."
So while one body of men were busy in cutting out a new support to replace the one that had been cut in two, other soldiers felled those trees that would interfere with the passing of the mangonel. As fast as these were cut, they were cleared of their branches, cut into lengths, and smoothed to make rollers. Then, by means of crowbars, these were placed under the long timbers that made the base of the mangonel, and in two or three hours the soldiers were able, by means of long levers and ropes, to roll the great machine back into the woods where it could no longer be seen by the defenders of the castle. Then the new timber was put in place, and the machine was again ready for action.
But all this had taken time, and it was late in the afternoon before they were able to resume the bombardment of the palisade, which in the mean- time, had been repaired by a party from the castle, who had little difficulty in replacing the fallen palisades. Seeing the palisade was as good as new, the Count came to Luke in a rage, and derided him before his men.
"Luke," cried the Count, "you have had a whole day for your engine-work, and have lost some of my men, while all you have accomplished is the knocking down of a couple of ten-pins, that have been promptly set up again. Do you think I mean to spend three good months in sitting here in the woods before this castle?"
Luke made no reply, but scowled, and adjusted another stone to the sling, and let it fly. A shout from in front of them showed that the stone had taken effect, and a soldier came running to say that part of the palisade was down.
"Wait but a few minutes." the Count said, with a laugh, "and we shall have another soldier to say that it is up again!"
Then Luke, losing his temper, turned on the sneering nobleman.
"If you and your men-at-arms had but the courage to enter the breach when it is made, you might destroy the whole palisade, my lord."
"Will you lead an attack upon it?" the Count asked.
"Yes, gladly," Luke replied, "and we shall take it before nightfall."
The Count rode away, and forming his men just within the shelter of the woods, suddenly charged out upon the plateau. The garrison made no attempt to meet this attack in the open field, believing that to retain the palisade would not be worth the lives it would cost them ; but they placed a strong body of archers along the walls, wherever they could get within range of the point attacked, and rained bolts and arrows upon the Count's men as they advanced. These, hidden by great bucklers, were not often hit, but a few men fell as they reached the palisade. Then great shields of wicker-work and wood were pushed forward by the Count's men, and protected behind these, they pulled up the logs that formed the palisades, and built a breastwork across it that sheltered them somewhat from the fire of the garrison.
The drawbridge had been raised, of course, and though the Count's men now held the interior of the palisade, they were divided from the gateway by a wide moat. Satisfied with their success, no attempt was made to carry the attack further that night, but the besiegers brought spades and pick-axes and threw up an intrenchment facing the castle gate, covering the piled-up palisades with earth, and placing their wicker-shields along the top as a further protection.
The intrenchment was about a hundred feet from the castle walls, and was commanded by two of the towers at the ends of the front, though it was too close to use the mangonels from the castle.
There were windows in these towers that looked directly into the intrenchment, and at these Hugh placed catapults—machines from which a large bow worked by wheels and levers could discharge enormous darts. There were four of these catapults, and they were capable of doing much execution, since the darts were projected with terrific force.
No attempt was made to dislodge the besiegers that night, since the garrison could not afford to lose many men, and Hugh advised that the time would be best spent in preparing for a vigorous bombardment on the morrow. Edgar accordingly, assisted by the Friar—who seemed to have a strong affection for all forms of artillery—put together several balistæ, and placed them on the walls wherever they could be brought to bear on the Count's works. The balista could be used at shorter range than the mangonel, being smaller, lighter, and more manageable. It had a short arm, worked by twisted cords, and would fling stones or other missiles in a short or long arc as might be arranged. They were used also to fling small kegs or jars in which could be put boiling pitch, quicklime, or Greek fire—that composition of naphtha, oils, and so on, invented by the Greeks for use in defending Byzantium against the Arabs.
The Count had learned something from the methods of defense already adopted by the garrison and was no longer ashamed to take every precaution that might save his men, and hasten the work of the besiegers. He kept his men busily at work all night, and in the morning it was seen that he had built a strong inclosure to protect his soldiers, roofing it over,and covering the top thickly with earth. So long as the besiegers kept within their intrenchment, they were comparatively safe, but there was no covering between them and their own lines. In crossing this space they were exposed to the archers and crossbow-men, as well as to the arrows from the catapults. So, in order to keep up a safe communication with his own forces, the Count was compelled to begin the making of a covered way. This he did by constructing what is called a "cat," that is, a long, movable gallery or shed, open at the end furthest from the enemy, and roofed with heavy timbers, that meet above in a sharp angle, making a steep roof. This roof was covered with raw hides or with clods, so that it would not readily take fire. As the shed had no floor, men could dig inside, making a ditch or trench. Then the cat was pushed forward on wheels or rollers, and the ditch was carried further.
Under this cat, the Count had as many men at work as could find room within its walls, and by the end of the day they had completed their trench or covered way.
The besiegers were not allowed to carry on their work entirely without interference. The mangonels on the castle walls showered stones upon the cat's back, and did some damage; but it was not enough to interrupt the work.
Edgar became restless and uneasy when he saw that the Count's soldiers had apparently established themselves in safe quarters so near the main gate of the castle, and during his usual talk with Hugh and the Friar—for Friar Bacon's advice had been found so helpful that he was now invited to join in their evening counsels—the former reassured the young commander, declaring that there was no reason to be alarmed, or even to take extra precautions so long as the besiegers could be kept outside the walls.
"Only a very strong garrison," said Hugh, "can afford to make sorties for the purpose of resisting every advance in the siege. They always cost lives, and lives cannot be spared. The chances are," he went on coolly enough, "that the Count will be able to demolish the gateway, and if the siege is a long one, he may get possession of some of the towers. All we can do is to make every advance as slow and as costly to him as we can. He is already made impatient by our resistance, and at the same time is becoming more cautious. When he first attacked us, he seemed to think he could take the castle by storm; but now he is proceeding by rule, making sure each step as he advances."
"But must we keep quiet, and let him come nearer and nearer, until he can bring battering-rams to bear on the walls?" Edgar demanded impatiently.
"What else can be done?" asked the Friar, as cool as if he were playing a game of chess. "The Count has a rabble of followers. Unless he can show them some way of taking the castle soon, they will begin to desert, and he will have to give up the siege. Meanwhile, have you kept up a vigilant watch on the river-side of the works? I think that he will make some attempts to attack us in the rear, if that is possible." " There is little chance of a rear attack," Edgar replied. "My father said that we need fear no serious assault there. The rocks are precipitous, and there is but one narrow path leading down to the water. When I was younger, I used now and then to make my way down to the river; but it was hard and dangerous. I do not think they will try it."
"Still," the Friar insisted, "that path should be watched, especially at night. Can you not spare a few men to set a guard there? I can make you a composition that will burn brightly and give plenty of light in case there should come an alarm from that quarter. If you instruct the sentries to keep ready a few bundles of faggots soaked with this composition, on the first alarm it would be easy to set fire to a few of these and fling them over. Then, having a light by which to aim, two Or three good crossbowmen would be able to hold the place, and defeat any body of men that could be brought against them. What say you, Hugh of Cambray?"
"I say that you are teaching us our business," Hugh answered. "It is lucky for us that we have not had to regret our thoughtlessness."
"I will post the guard at once," Edgar replied, leaving the room as he spoke. He lighted his way by means of a torch of twisted rope dipped in pitch, and so proceeded through the dark corridors until he came to the guard-room. Giving his orders to the captain of the guard, he saw them carried out before he returned.
After a few more words, the three separated, and as there was no alarm during the night, they slept soundly until morning. The Count's men also, having worked very industriously all day in building their intrenchment and the covered way leading to it, felt that they were entitled to their rest, and flinging themselves down wrapped in their cloaks, slept as soundly as if they were in their own castle. But though both the castle and the works of the besiegers were silent, sentinels on both sides kept a keen lookout, and the first alarm would have been answered by hundreds of armed men.