The Defense of the Castle/Chapter 5
V
Luke Advises the Count— The "Cat" Attacks the Wall—The Crane Prepared—The Intrenchment in the Courtyard—The Friar Talks of the "Black Art"—The Wonderful Powder—An Experiment by the Friar—Hugh Is Affrighted— Activity of the Besiegers—A Siege-Tower Begun—The Friar's Device—The "Cat" Is Almost Destroyed.
CHAPTER V
Although the men of the garrison had no expectation of retaking the ground occupied by the besiegers, they did not let them remain there unmolested. As soon as daylight enabled the ballistæ to be aimed, they rained projectiles from the walls upon all parts of the intrenchment—now and then finding a weak point through which a stone would penetrate and do damage. These breaches were at once repaired by the besiegers, but it was necessary to come out of their shelter in order to do this work, and as soon as any men were exposed, the archers of the castle were alert. In this way the Count lost not a few of his force, and, as the Friar had predicted, there was much dissatisfaction at the slow progress of the siege. The hired soldiers had hoped that the castle would be taken in a few days, but time was passing without bringing the besiegers materially nearer to their object.
The Count consulted Luke the Lurdane, who strongly advised employing every available man in one way or another. "The garrison has not many men to spare, and by keeping them all busy we may find a weak point. By means of the cat, here before the gate, you can fill the moat, push on to the wall and attack it with a battering-ram. At the same time, it would be worth while to set miners to work to undermine part of the wall, so as to open a breach into the outer court, and while these attacks occupy part of your force, I will take some of the stoutest men-at-arms, and attempt a side attack. You have men enough besides all these to build a tower from which your crossbow-men can sweep the battlements of their defenders. It will never do to leave your men idle. There is no grumbler like your idle soldier, and some fine day you will awake to find your forces have tired of the work, and have marched quietly away during the night."
"If the scoundrels break faith with me, I will follow them all over England, if necessary, and hang them every mother's son!" the Count declared angrily.
"No doubt," Luke answered dryly, "and meanwhile the Mortimers would keep their castle, and possibly, when the old lord returns, they might take a fancy to have yours into the bargain. Still, you would have the satisfaction of playing hangman to a band of villains whose fate would be sure in any event—since they are gallows-birds by nature every one. But what do you think of my plans, my lord? Will you not approve them?"
"Plans?—I meddle with no plans," the Count replied with a lazy yawn. "I think with my sword, and argue with my battle-ax! With those steel counselors, I can take enough to pay clerk's brains to do my thinking and save me the headache! Do as you please, but let us come to blows as soon as may be, for I long for a chance to slit the weasand of that young Edgar Mortimer, and be rid of the breed."
"You might find him a tougher morsel than you imagine," Luke remarked, "if he is anything like the father. Was it not Baron Mortimer who overthrew you in a tourney a year or more ago? I heard something of it from a wandering minstrel."
"Enough of that, if you would not have a broken head to nurse!" growled the Count. "A man may have bad luck in the lists, though a good fighter in the battlefield. I set little store by lance- play, with grinning heralds and bedizened wenches cackling fit to deafen one. Let us get on with the siege, so that we may sooner measure swords with these cowards that skulk behind their stone walls. You find me a way into the castle, and I will answer for the rest. So set up your tackle and your slings, and we will push the attack upon the gate. When Baron Mortimer comes home from the Crusade, I wish him to see my banner afloat from the top of his donjon tower,"
Luke at once departed to give his orders, and soon there were visible, even from the castle walls, signs of great activity among the besiegers. The cat, pushed forward by men concealed within its shelter, was advanced until its front end overhung the edge of the moat, and then barrows of earth and stones, faggots, and trunks of trees were dropped into the moat, gradually forming a bridge meant to extend across to the base of the gateway. From the overhanging walls above the defenders poured heavy rocks down upon the cat, endeavoring to crush its roof. But the front of it was especially strong, the roof was steep, and the great rocks did little damage. Then an enormous crane was raised upon the battlements above, and a heavy timber was hoisted by chains fastened at one end, so that it could be swung over the walls as soon as the cat should advance within reach. But the besiegers could not be prevented from making their causeway across the moat, since their workmen were completely protected from interference, and the cat was as yet too far from the walls to be reached by things dropped upon it, and too near to be well within the range of the balistæ and catapults.
While the attack on the gateway was pressed by the Count in person, Luke set a number of the artificers at work constructing two more mangonels, for which the forest furnished the wood- work, while the metal parts and the ropes had been brought from the Ferrers' castle. Luke also took care that work should be given to all the idle hands, planning a lofty tower of woodwork that could be advanced near the walls of the castle at a later period of the siege. For this purpose he had the timbers all cut and made ready for framing as soon as he should decide upon the best place for it. All these enterprises kept the Count's soldiers busy, and put an end to their grumbling, of which there had been plenty.
Within the castle walls the garrison were quite as busily employed. The men who were not needed upon the walls, were set to work under Hugh's direction in constructing a rampart across the courtyard. The general plan of the castle was square, and there was a tower at each corner. The largest and strongest was, of course, the donjon, or keep; and this stood at the northeast corner on the highest point of the precipice over the river. Hugh thought that the besiegers would in time be able to destroy the first or outer wall, and would then gain admittance to the outer court or bailey. Their next step would be to break into the main court or inner bailey; and for that reason Hugh was constructing the intrenchment diagonally across from the northwest to the southeast tower, so that there might be a further obstacle to prevent their reaching the base of the great donjon. Then Hugh intended to undermine those parts of the western and southern walls that came against the two towers already named, so that, if the south and west walls were taken, they could be cut off from the remainder of the castle—which would then become triangular.
The old soldier explained his plan to Edgar and the Friar, as they sat as usual in the great hall after dinner, with the map and a drawing of the castle before them. Edgar was again inclined to be uneasy when he heard the older man discussing the destruction of this or that wall;, and the capture of the gate and one of the towers; for he was yet inexperienced, and had been inclined to think the towers and thick curtain-walls too strong to be destroyed or taken. The Friar smiled to see him look so glum, and tried to cheer him.
"If you will recall the stories of other sieges, my lord," said he, "you will remember that a resolute besieger, unless he be interfered with, is sure to make progress even against the strongest defenses. Whatever man has built, man can pull down, and—unfortunately—one can pull down faster than one can build; which is what makes a castle easier to take than to hold. But when it is your own castle, it seems as if every stone that is dislodged is one of your own bones being taken out, and any injury to the castle affects you as if one of your own family is lying sick. We are always hopeful that a neighbor will recover, but we are never so cheerful about an invalid of our own flesh and blood. Cheer up, Edgar Mortimer,—we have many a task for the Count and his men before they shall set foot within the Castle of the Red Lion! But we must imagine the worst in order to insure the best. So far we have inflicted some loss on the enemy, and we have not lost a man, nor have they even come across the moat."
Edgar felt the force of this reasoning, but found it hard to sit quietly indoors talking, when he could hear outside the blows of great sledges, axes, and picks preparing engines to batter down his walls and towers. He had always rejoiced to hear the tales and songs of troubadours, telling of battles and sieges, but he found the reality much more ex- citing, and not nearly so enjoyable. But he spoke up bravely:
"Let us go on with our talk, my friends. If I cannot lend much help to your plans, I can at least give you my confidence, and keep up a brave heart."
Hugh then explained to the Friar his purpose of preparing the intrenchment in the courtyard, so that by destroying the connecting walls, he could separate the southwest tower from the rest, and thus, if tho enemy should breach the southern wall, cut them off from the great keep and the two other towers. Friar Bacon looked attentively at the diagram.
"But how," he asked in a few moments, "are you going to destroy the walls?"
"I have already begun digging away the earth beneath," Hugh answered, marking the two places where he meant to throw down the wall. "Then, having propped up those parts with heavy timbers, I can smear them with pitch, set fire to them, and down they will go!"
"The ignorant have often accused me of a knowledge of the 'black art,’" said the monk with a smile. "But with two men like yourselves it is not necessary for me to say that I am only a poor scholar, and no servant of the Evil One. Yet there is a certain black powder which I have learned to make that might well cause me to be considered a dealer in magic. If you will keep my counsel, and will believe me when I tell you that I am no more than a student of nature's secrets, I will show you an experiment that may give our young lord good reason to be glad he was hospitable to the poor brother of St. Francis."
With these words the Friar left the hall, and going to his own room returned with a small jar full of a black powder — as they saw when he opened it, took out a little, and then carefully replaced the parchment covering that was tied tightly over it. The Friar then brought from a shelf an earthenware dish, spread a little of the black powder upon it, and going to the fireplace lighted a dry twig. He asked Edgar and the old soldier to stand well away from the table, and then touched the glowing end of the twig to the powder.
Instantly there was a brilliant flash of flame, the powder was consumed, and a great ring of smoke went upward and was lost amid the high rafters.
"In the name of St. George!" exclaimed Hugh, "what devil's work is this? Do you make lightning?"
"No devil's work is it," said the Friar, smiling to see their amazement, "but simply the discovery of the alchemists, I am told. I learned the secret from a wandering brother I met in Spain, who had been near the confines of Cathay, and had been shown this wonderful powder by an Eastern priest, a strange man who wore his hair in one long tail down his back, all the rest of his head being shaved smooth. But you do not know yet the value of this powder. If it could do no more than flash like the lightning, and go off in smoke—it might serve to make peasants stare and run, but could do little else. If it is thus left free, as I showed just now, it does but flash harmlessly. Now, let me show you something of its power when imprisoned. Lend me your knife, good Hugh."
Hugh handed the Friar his hunting-knife, which was always at his girdle, and the Franciscan again going to the fireplace brought back a thick stick as large round as a man's wrist. This he split into two halves lengthwise, and then carefully hollowed each piece as if it were a little boat.
Edgar and Hugh watched him with keen curiosity, without the slightest idea of what he meant to do, and were surprised to see him open the jar of powder once more, and fill the hollowed pieces of wood with the black substance. Then the Friar placed the stick together again, and put a bit of tarred yarn in between, cutting a little channel for it.
"Now, said the Friar, holding the sticks firmly together. "tie these as tightly as you can, Hugh, with a strong wrapping of cord, making all secure and firm."
Hugh obeyed and when it was done handed it over to the Friar, The Franciscan looked about him as if uncertain where it was best to make the experiment, but at last, warning Edgar and Hugh to keep at a distance, he placed the apparatus at one end of the great hall, lighted the bit of rope-yarn, and came running back. There was a pause, during which the sparking of the little fuse was visible, and then came an explosion which so startled Edgar and Hugh that they sprang into the air with a shout of dismay, while the Frair laughed heartily.
In a few moments hurried steps were heard on the stairs, and Lady Mortimer and Amabel, wrapped in long cloaks, came into the great hall pale and terrified, evidently thinking that the besiegers had entered and broken in a door—or they didn't know what. Seeing the Friar's merriment and the fright of Hugh and Edgar, they eagerly asked the cause of the noise. Friar Bacon told them that he had been making a little experiment, and that no harm was done, whereupon they withdrew again to their own apartments.
"Hugh," the Franciscan said, "see what has become of the pieces of wood you tied so carefully together."
Hugh, with a side glance at the Friar, went forward, none too boldly, and Edgar went with him. They found only one or two blackened bits, and a number of splintered fragments. They examined them curiously.
Then the Friar, losing his playful air, addressed them:
"I have no way of telling the strength of that compound. I have attempted in every way to confine it, but it bursts and shatters even steel bands. If a tiny handful does so much—imagine the effect of a great keg of the same terrible compound. It is force irresistible!"
"But is it not very difficult to make?" Edgar asked.
"Not more difficult than many a salve our leeches compound every day," the Friar answered. "But it is a secret which I do not mean to intrust to all the world. That black powder, once its composition is known—as known it will be one day to all the world—will render such a castle as this no more secure than the charcoal-burner's hut of boughs. Placed against a wall two paces thick and fired—behold a ruin!"
"Have you much of it?" Edgar inquired.
"I do not dare to keep much of it compounded," he replied, "but I have the materials for making what may be needed to carry out some of Hugh's plans. Perhaps the Count de Ferrers may yet regret that he turned from his door the poor wandering Franciscan brother, and the young Lord Edgar Mortimer may be rewarded for his hospitality."
With these words the Friar left them, carrying with him the little jar containing the wonderful compound. When he was out of hearing, Hugh spoke to Edgar in a low voice:
"I do not know whether we should harbor one who works such marvels—and yet—the Friar has done us good service. What do you think, my lord? Is there not wizard's work here? Surely I scented sulphur in the air!"
"I know nothing of such wonders," Edgar replied, "but I trust the man. My mother and my cousin see naught but good in him. And if it be of human art, surely you can make good use of that wonderful powder of his. Would it not be foolhardy to refuse so useful an ally?"
"But if it came from the evil powers?" Hugh demanded.
"Why, then," Edgar answered with a twinkle in his eye, "it can best be used to diminish evil by resisting the power of that robber Count, Guy de Ferrers. 'A house divided against itself cannot stand' says the gospel. So let us be thankful to turn the devil's weapons against himself. Meanwhile," he added, with a wide yawn, "unless I get to bed, I shall sleep through the whole siege! Good-night, Hugh,—and remember, we have promised to keep the Friar's secret."
Hugh went to bed, after he had made a final round of the sentries to see that none were unwary, and one moment as he climbed to his turret-room he shook his head in grave doubt over the Friar's strange doings, while the next he recalled how skillfully the same good Friar had handled the mangonel, and was inclined to trust him.
With daylight the old soldier felt reassured, and made the rounds without a trace of the uneasiness he had shown the night before. He went first to one of the gateway towers, and saw that the besiegers had advanced their "cat" more than half across the moat, while they were still busily extending the causeway. By the next day, at furthest, they would be at the base of the wall. Then Hugh ascended to the top of one of the towers, and here he found Edgar looking out toward the wood. Hugh followed the direction of his gaze and saw groups of the Count's men busily engaged in hewing timbers, and soon made out by the few that had been put in place, that they were constructing two large mangonels—engines even larger than the one they had already employed. Further back, at the very edge of the wood, more men were at work felling trees and chopping them—as was known by the sharp strokes of axes, and the occasional crash of a tree falling against the limbs of others, and then striking the ground. Hugh laughed quietly as he saw these signs of activity, and Edgar turned to him inquiringly, for the old soldier was usually rather serious.
"I could not help laughing," Hugh explained, "to see all those rogues so hard at work—for all the world as if they were honest joiners. By my faith—I think it is long since many of their palms have touched any but weapons. But they work in earnest, and we shall have task enough to circumvent their ingenuity. By to-morrow, my lord, there will stones enough be thrown to keep us from dreaming of our sweethearts. Three mangonels are capable of much damage."
"Only three?" Edgar asked. "I have been here a good part of an hour, and it seems to me that a tree falls every minute. Surely they cannot use half a hundred trees in making two or three mangonels."
"You are right," Hugh said, after a moment's reflection. "I would wager a sheaf of arrows and a hunting-horn that they are making another cat—or, no; it is not a cat this time, but probably a siege-tower. If so, we must set up more of our engines of war, for I fear the tower. If they can once bring the tower close enough to our walls, they will be able to sweep the ramparts of defenders, perhaps, and then make an assault by means of lowering a bridge upon the walls. You have surely heard of that means of taking a fortified place?"
"Yes," Edgar replied, "my father has told me of it. But, Hugh, I find that while I remember to have heard of the different engines used against us, I unhappily forget the means used to defend against them. What can we do against a tower, in case they shall build it?"
"Batter it to pieces with stones, set fire to it by means of darts or barrels of pitch, or repel the attack of the soldiers when it is made." Hugh replied. "If we were strong enough, we might risk a sortie and try to destroy it before it is complete; but that would be foolhardy, I fear, as they will be on the watch against a night attack, and we dare not go out in daylight. Come, let us consult the old Friar. I believe he has seen much warfare, and he may advise us well. We shall need all our wits."
They descended from the tower to the ramparts, and then went down a flight of steps that led them into the court. Here they found the Friar bending over a bit of crystal into which he seemed to be gazing. When he saw them coming toward him, he slipped the crystal into a pouch he carried at his belt, and rose, coming several paces toward them.
"The besiegers are hard at work," he said as he approached. "I saw them with the first light this morning."
"Yes," Edgar replied; "and Hugh thinks they are cutting material to build a siege-tower from which to make an attack upon the ramparts. We came to see whether there was anything we could do to make ready for it."
"I am sure," said the Friar, "that so old a soldier as Hugh of Cambray has already told you all that I can advise. If I were indeed the magician many think me, I might find another way to circumvent them than those known to the captains skilled in war. But unless you can interfere with the work by means of hurling rocks upon it, or can fire the timbers when it comes nearer, I fear the attack will be delivered and will have to be repulsed upon the walls. I can give only one piece of counsel."
"We shall be glad to hear it." said Edgar eagerly.
"You have noticed." said the Friar, "that when a stone is discharged into the air, the enemy often runs at the sound of the discharge, or even takes cover sometimes before the lever is released, knowing that the engine is ready as soon as he can see the lever pulled downward. Now, I would advise you to set two mangonels side by side, load both together, and then discharge one. If the enemy avoids the first, you can discharge the second as soon as he returns to his work, or by firing the two at once, you make it impossible, or more difficult to watch the flight of both stones. All this may not add to the execution they do, but it will cause the men to be more afraid of the weapons, and will delay their work upon their own devices."
Hugh commended this suggestion, and Edgar gave orders to place two of the largest mangonels upon the ramparts at the point nearest to the enemy's workmen. There was plenty of ammunition in the castle, and a volley of stones began about noon, and was continued until nightfall, the men relieving one another at the levers and tackles. Hour after hour was heard the winding of the cords, the creaking of pulleys, and then the groan of the great lever as it flung its rock outward.
No great damage was done either to the men or their work, but the fall of the missiles was so rapid, and so well aimed that the workers were kept upon the watch, and every now and then would run to shelter as a great rock came too near for comfort. So the fire of the mangonels was effective in delaying the besiegers' work, and thus was well worth all it cost the garrison.
By nightfall the causeway across the moat was completed, and a cheer from the besiegers showed that they were able to push their cat against the wall of the castle, just below the drawbridge. Then there came a long silence while preparations to demolish the walls were being made. Many of those besiegers who had worked in the cat, were now withdrawn to make room for less wearied laborers, and the Count gave orders to prepare a battering-ram. It was already dark, however, and since Luke had taken care that there should be few idle hands in the Count's camp, this piece of work was postponed until the next day.
Meanwhile, the garrison, seeing that the cat now rested against the castle wall, raised the great piece of timber that had been attached to the chain, and, making as little noise as they could, finally hoisted it to the top of the wall. The sentinels below heard the noise and gave the alarm; but it was too late. The great beam was pushed over the edge, and hung at the end of the chain, just above the roof of the cat, like a gigantic pendulum, or the weight of a pile-driver. At once orders were given to let go the windlass on which the chain was wound, and the enormous beam shot endwise down upon the roof of the cat, striking it squarely upon its ridge-pole.
Through turf, hides, and timber crashed the great hammering weight, and then it was hastily raised again by re-winding the chain upon the windlass. Down came the timber once more, and again ascended, only to fall like a giant's pestle. The front of the cat was smashed to splinters, and then great bundles of tow, dipped in pitch and set ablaze, fell upon the splintered ruin.