CHAPTER II
THE BATTLE OF SHOREBY
The whole distance to be crossed was not above a quarter of a mile. Butthey had no sooner debouched beyond the cover of the trees than theywere aware of people fleeing and screaming in the snowy meadows uponeither hand. Almost at the same moment a great rumour began to arise,and spread and grow continually louder in the town; and they were notyet half-way to the nearest house before the bells began to ringbackward from the steeple.
The young duke ground his teeth together. By these so early signals ofalarm he feared to find his enemies prepared; and if he failed to gain afooting in the town, he knew that his small party would soon be brokenand exterminated in the open.
In the town, however, the Lancastrians were far from being in so good aposture. It was as Dick had said. The night-guard had already doffedtheir harness; the rest were still hanging--unlatched, unbraced, allunprepared for battle--about their quarters; and in the whole of Shorebythere were not, perhaps, fifty men full armed, or fifty chargers to bemounted.
The beating of the bells, the terrifying summons of men who ran aboutthe streets crying and beating upon the doors, aroused in an incrediblyshort space at least two score out of that half hundred. These gotspeedily to horse, and, the alarm still flying wild and contrary,galloped in different directions.
Thus it befell that, when Richard of Gloucester reached the first houseof Shoreby, he was met in the mouth of the street by a mere handful oflances, whom he swept before his onset as the storm chases the bark.
A hundred paces into the town, Dick Shelton touched the duke's arm; theduke, in answer, gathered his reins, put the shrill trumpet to hismouth, and blowing a concerted point, turned to the right hand out ofthe direct advance. Swerving like a single rider, his whole commandturned after him, and, still at the full gallop of the chargers, sweptup the narrow by-street. Only the last score of riders drew rein andfaced about in the entrance; the footmen, whom they carried behind them,leapt at the same instant to the earth, and began, some to bend theirbows, and others to break into and secure the houses upon either hand.
Surprised at this sudden change of direction, and daunted by the firmfront of the rear-guard, the few Lancastrians, after a momentaryconsultation, turned and rode farther into town to seek forreinforcements.
The quarter of the town upon which, by the advice of Dick, Richard ofGloucester had now seized, consisted of five small streets of poor andill-inhabited houses, occupying a very gentle eminence, and lying opentowards the back.
The five streets being each secured by a good guard, the reserve wouldthus occupy the centre, out of shot, and yet ready to carry aid whereverit was needed.
Such was the poorness of the neighbourhood that none of the Lancastrianlords, and but few of their retainers, had been lodged therein; and theinhabitants, with one accord, deserted their houses and fled, squalling,along the streets or over garden walls.
In the centre, where the five ways all met, a somewhat ill-favouredalehouse displayed the sign of the "Chequers"; and here the Duke ofGloucester chose his headquarters for the day.
To Dick he assigned the guard of one of the five streets.
"Go," he said, "win your spurs. Win glory for me; one Richard foranother. I tell you, if I rise, ye shall rise by the same ladder. Go,"he added, shaking him by the hand.
But, as soon as Dick was gone, he turned to a little shabby archer athis elbow.
"Go, Dutton, and that right speedily," he added. "Follow that lad. If yefind him faithful, ye answer for his safety, a head for a head. Woe untoyou if ye return without him! But if he be faithless--or, for oneinstant, ye misdoubt him--stab him from behind."
In the meantime Dick hastened to secure his post. The street he had toguard was very narrow, and closely lined with houses, which projectedand overhung the roadway; but narrow and dark as it was, since it openedupon the market-place of the town, the main issue of the battle wouldprobably fall to be decided on that spot.
The market-place was full of townspeople fleeing in disorder; but therewas as yet no sign of any foeman ready to attack, and Dick judged he hadsome time before him to make ready his defence.
The two houses at the end stood deserted, with open doors, as theinhabitants had left them in their flight, and from these he had thefurniture hastily tossed forth and piled into a barrier in the entry ofthe lane. A hundred men were placed at his disposal, and of these hethrew the more part in the houses, where they might lie in shelter anddeliver their arrows from the windows. With the rest, under his ownimmediate eye, he lined the barricade.
Meanwhile the utmost uproar and confusion had continued to prevailthroughout the town; and what with the hurried clashing of bells, thesounding of trumpets, the swift movement of bodies of horse, the criesof the commanders, and the shrieks of women, the noise was almostdeafening to the ear. Presently, little by little, the tumult began tosubside; and soon after, files of men in armour and bodies of archersbegan to assemble and form in line of battle in the market-place.
A large portion of this body were in murrey and blue, and in the mountedknight who ordered their array Dick recognised Sir Daniel Brackley.
Then there befell a long pause, which was followed by the almostsimultaneous sounding of four trumpets from four different quarters ofthe town. A fifth rang in answer from the market-place, and at the samemoment the files began to move, and a shower of arrows rattled about thebarricade, and sounded like blows upon the walls of the two flankinghouses.
The attack had begun, by a common signal, on all the five issues of thequarter. Gloucester was beleaguered upon every side; and Dick judged, ifhe would make good his post, he must rely entirely on the hundred men ofhis command.
Seven volleys of arrows followed one upon the other, and in the verythick of the discharges Dick was touched from behind upon the arm, andfound a page holding out to him a leathern jack, strengthened withbright plates of mail.
"It is from my Lord of Gloucester," said the page. "He hath observed,Sir Richard, that ye went unarmed."
Dick, with a glow at his heart at being so addressed, got to his feetand, with the assistance of the page, donned the defensive coat. Even ashe did so, two arrows rattled harmlessly upon the plates, and a thirdstruck down the page, mortally wounded, at his feet.
Meantime the whole body of the enemy had been steadily drawing neareracross the market-place; and by this time were so close at hand thatDick gave the order to return their shot. Immediately, from behind thebarrier and from the windows of the houses, a counterblast of arrowssped, carrying death. But the Lancastrians, as if they had but waitedfor a signal, shouted loudly in answer; and began to close at a run uponthe barrier, the horsemen still hanging back, with visors lowered.
Then followed an obstinate and deadly struggle, hand to hand. Theassailants, wielding their falchions with one hand, strove with theother to drag down the structure of the barricade. On the other side,the parts were reversed; and the defenders exposed themselves likemadmen to protect their rampart. So for some minutes the contest ragedalmost in silence, friend and foe falling one upon another. But it isalways the easier to destroy; and when a single note upon the tucketrecalled the attacking party from this desperate service, much of thebarricade had been removed piecemeal, and the whole fabric had sunk tohalf its height, and tottered to a general fall.
And now the footmen in the market-place fell back, at a run, on everyside. The horsemen, who had been standing in a line two deep, wheeledsuddenly, and made their flank into their front; and as swift as astriking adder, the long, steel-clad column was launched upon theruinous barricade.
Of the first two horsemen, one fell, rider and steed, and was riddendown by his companions. The second leaped clean upon the summit of therampart, transpiercing an archer with his lance. Almost in the sameinstant he was dragged from the saddle and his horse despatched.
And then the full weight and impetus of the charge burst upon andscattered the defenders. The men-at-arms, surmounting their fallencomra
des, and carried onward by the fury of their onslaught, dashedthrough Dick's broken line and poured thundering up the lane beyond, asa stream bestrides and pours across a broken dam.
Yet was the fight not over. Still, in the narrow jaws of the entrance,Dick and a few survivors plied their bills like woodmen; and already,across the width of the passage, there had been formed a second, ahigher, and a more effectual rampart of fallen men and disembowelledhorses, lashing in the agonies of death.
Baffled by this fresh obstacle, the remainder of the cavalry fell back;and as, at the sight of this movement, the flight of arrows redoubledfrom the casements of the houses, their retreat had, for a moment,almost degenerated into flight.
Almost at the same time, those who had crossed the barricade and chargedfarther up the street, being met before the door of the "Chequers" bythe formidable hunchback and the whole reserve of the Yorkists, began tocome scattering backward, in the excess of disarray and terror.
Dick and his fellows faced about, fresh men poured out of the houses; acruel blast of arrows met the fugitives full in the face, whileGloucester was already riding down their rear; in the inside of a minuteand a half there was no living Lancastrian in the street.
Then, and not till then, did Dick hold up his reeking blade and give theword to cheer.
Meanwhile Gloucester dismounted from his horse and came forward toinspect the post. His face was as pale as linen; but his eyes shone inhis head like some strange jewel, and his voice, when he spoke, washoarse and broken with the exultation of battle and success. He lookedat the rampart, which neither friend nor foe could now approach withoutprecaution, so fiercely did the horses struggle in the throes of death,and at the sight of that great carnage he smiled upon one side.
"Despatch these horses," he said; "they keep you from yourvantage.--Richard Shelton," he added, "ye have pleased me. Kneel."
The Lancastrians had already resumed their archery, and the shafts fellthick in the mouth of the street; but the duke, minding them not at all,deliberately drew his sword and dubbed Richard a knight upon the spot.
"And now, Sir Richard," he continued, "if that ye see Lord Risinghamsend me an express upon the instant. Were it your last man, let me hearof it incontinently. I had rather venture the post than lose my strokeat him. For mark me, all of ye," he added, raising his voice, "if EarlRisingham fall by another hand than mine, I shall count this victory adefeat."
"My lord duke," said one of his attendants, "is your grace not weary ofexposing his dear life unneedfully? Why tarry we here?"
"Catesby," returned the duke, "here is the battle, not elsewhere. Therest are but feigned onslaughts. Here must we vanquish. And for theexposure--if ye were an ugly hunchback, and the children gecked at youupon the street, ye would count your body cheaper, and an hour of gloryworth a life. Howbeit, if ye will, let us ride on and visit the otherposts. Sir Richard here, my namesake, he shall still hold this entry,where he wadeth to the ankles in hot blood. Him can we trust. But markit, Sir Richard, ye are not yet done. The worst is yet to ward. Sleepnot."
He came right up to young Shelton, looking him hard in the eyes, andtaking his hand in both of his, gave it so extreme a squeeze that theblood had nearly spurted. Dick quailed before his eyes. The insaneexcitement, the courage, and the cruelty that he read therein, filledhim with dismay about the future. This young duke's was indeed a gallantspirit, to ride foremost in the ranks of war; but, after the battle, inthe days of peace and in the circle of his trusted friends, that mind,it was to be dreaded, would continue to bring forth the fruits of death.
The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 8 Page 29
