St. George for England by G. A. Henty (best story books to read .txt) 📕

The Spanish slingers opened upon the advancing force and for a time annoyed them greatly, but when the English archers arrived within bow-shot and opened fire they speedily dispersed the slingers, and the men-at-arms on both sides advanced to the attack. The conflict was long and desperate, and both sides fought with great gallantry and determination. Don Pedro—who, although vicious and cruel, was brave—fought in the ranks as a common soldier, frequently cutting his way into the midst of the Spaniards, and shouting to Don Henry to cross swords with him. Henry on his part fought with great valour, although, as he had the burden of command upon him, he was less able to distinguish himself by acts of personal prowess. Though fighting in the thickest of the press, he never lost his grasp of the general purpose of the battle. Three times, when his troops wavered before the assaults of the Black Prince and his knights, he rallied them and renewed the fight.

While this battle was raging, a not less obstinate fight was proceeding between the divisions of Lancaster and Du Guesclin. For a long time victory was doubtful, and indeed inclined towards the side of the French. The ranks of both parties were broken, and all were fighting in a confused mass, when, in the midst of the melee, a body of French and Spaniards poured in upon the banner of Chandos. He was struck to the ground, and a gigantic Castilian knight flung himself upon him and strove to slay him as he held him down. Chandos had lost sword and battle-axe, but drawing his dagger, he held with one hand his opponent's sword-arm, and at last, after repeated strokes with his dagger, he found an undefended part of his armour and pierced him with his dagger to the hilt. The Spaniard relaxed his hold, and Chandos, throwing him off, struggled to his feet and rejoined his friends, who had thought him dead. They now fought with more enthusiasm than ever, and at last, driving back the main body of the French knights, isolated a body of some sixty strong, and forced them to surrender. Among these were Du Guesclin himself, the Marshal D'Audenham, and the Bigue de Vilaines.

As these were the leaders of the division, the main body lost spirit and fought feebly, and were soon completely routed by Lancaster and Chandos. These now turned their attention to the other part of the field where the battle was still raging, and charged down upon the flank of Don Henry's army, which was already wavering. The Spaniards gave way at once on every side, and ere long the whole were scattered in headlong rout, hotly pursued by the English. The greater portion fled towards the town of Najarra, where they had slept the previous night, and here vast quantities were slaughtered by the English and Gascons. A number of prisoners were taken, and the palace and town sacked. The pursuit was kept up the whole day, and it was not until evening that the leaders began once more to assemble round the banner of the Prince of Wales. Among the last who arrived was Don Pedro himself. Springing from his charger he grasped the hand of the Prince of Wales, thanking him for his victory, which he felt would restore him to his throne.

“Give thanks and praise to God, and not to me,” the prince replied, “for from Him, and not from me, you have received victory.”

About 8000 men fell in the battle, the loss of the English, French, and Spaniards being nearly equal; but many thousands of the latter fell in the pursuit, and as many more were drowned in endeavouring to cross the river Ebro. Don Henry escaped after fighting till the last, and reaching the French territory in safety took refuge in the Papal court of Avignon.

Upon the morning after the battle Don Pedro requested the Black Prince to give him up all the Castilian prisoners, in order that he might put them to death. The prince, however, was always opposed to cruelty, and asked and obtained as a boon to himself that the lives of all the Spanish prisoners, with the exception of one whose conduct had been marked with peculiar treachery, should be spared, and even induced Pedro to pardon them altogether on their swearing fealty to him. Even Don Sancho, Pedro's brother, who had fought at Najarra under Don Henry, was received and embraced by Pedro at the request of the Prince of Wales. The city of Burgos at once opened its gates, and the rest of the country followed its example, and resumed its allegiance to Pedro, who remounted his throne without further resistance.

As Walter had fought by the side of the Black Prince his desire to cross swords with Du Guesclin was not satisfied; but his valour during the day won for him the warm approbation of the prince. Opposed to them were many of the great companies, and these men, all experienced soldiers and many of them Englishmen, had fought with great stubbornness. Walter had singled out for attack a banner bearing the cognizance of a raven. The leader of this band, who was known as the Knight of the Raven, had won for himself a specially evil notoriety in France by the ferocity of his conduct. Wherever his band went they had swept the country, and the most atrocious tortures had been inflicted on all well-to-do persons who had fallen into their hands, to extract from them the secret of buried hoards or bonds, entailing upon them the loss of their last penny.

The Knight of the Raven himself was said to be as brave as he was cruel, and several nobles who had attempted to oppose his band had been defeated and slain by him. He was known to be English, but his name was a mystery; and the Black Prince and his knights had long wished to encounter a man who was a disgrace alike to chivalry and the English name. When, therefore, Walter saw his banner in the king's division he urged his horse towards it, and, followed by Ralph and some thirty men-at-arms, hewed his way through the crowd until he was close to the banner.

A knight in gray armour spurred forward to meet him, and a desperate conflict took place.

Never had Walter crossed swords with a stouter adversary, and his opponent fought with as much vehemence and fury as if the sight of Walter's banner, which Ralph carried behind him, had aroused in him a frenzy of rage and hate. In guarding his head from one of his opponent's sweeping blows Walter's sword shivered at the hilt; but before the Gray Knight could repeat the blow Walter snatched his heavy battle-axe from his saddle. The knight reined back his horse for an instant, and imitated his example, and with these heavy weapons the fight was renewed. The Knight of the Raven had lost by the change, for Walter's great strength stood him in good stead, and presently with a tremendous blow he beat down his opponent's axe and cleft through his helmet almost to the chin.

The knight fell dead from his horse, and Walter, with his band pressing on, carried confusion into the ranks of his followers. When these had been defeated Walter rode back with Ralph to the spot where the Knight of the Raven had fallen.

“Take off his helmet, Ralph. Let me see his face. Methinks I recognized his voice, and he fought as if he knew and hated me.”

Ralph removed the helmet.

“It is as I thought,” Walter said; “it is Sir James Carnegie, a recreant and villain knight and foul enemy of mine, a disgrace to his name and rank, but a brave man. So long as he lived I could never say that my life was safe from his machinations.