University of Virginia Library

6. CHAPTER VI.
THE SERF.

The morning was already beginning to dawn palely, at least
a few faint streaks of light were visible from the summit of the
watch-tower, far on the verge of the eastern sky, when a dull
rustling sound made itself plainly heard above the rippling murmur
of the trout stream in the valley, and the sough of the
west wind in the evergreen branches of the pine wood. None
but a practised ear could have distinguished then, the character
of that far sound, but scarcely had it been audible a second
before Sir Hugues de Coucy turning half round, toward Ermold,
in his steel saddle, said in a clear, strong whisper; “Lo! they
come now; lower your vizors all, and follow me, silently though
and slowly!” and with the words, he drew down his own avantaille
and clasped it firmly to the beaver; then, gathering his reins
up with the left, and lowering the point of his long lance that it
should not strike the groinings of the barbacan, he rode forth
cautiously, accompanied by his young squire, and the two men-at-arms;
before he left the arch, however, he called to the warder
bidding him see the chains of the portcullis clear, and have
his yeomen ready to make fast the gates at once. “Be steady
now,” he said, “and forget not that deliberate valor is worth

ten times as much as headlong rashness. Break but your
lances fairly with these thieves, and draw off instantly, leaving
me last. Here they come, fifty horse at least, if I may judge
by the clash and clang; they will be here anon. Now do
your devoir!”

While speaking, he had drawn up his little band in line,
having Giles Ivernois on his right hand, and Ermold in the
centre, the other Flemish trooper holding the extreme left, close
to the high fence of an orchard. The road here made a little
sweep, of something better than a hundred yards, skirting the
verge of the moat and the castle wall which with its arbalasts
and mangonels commanded the whole traverse. It was, moreover,
very narrow, ascending in a gentle slope up to the outer
gate, giving the knight and his companions the ground of vantage
for a charge on the assailants.

Scarce had the knight of Tankarville completed his arrangements,
before the loud, deep note of the ban cloche, succeeded
by its continuous and deafening clangor, announced the presence
of Talebardin and his routiers upon the village green, although
they were not as yet visible to Hugues and his party,
in consequence of the cottages and gardens of the hamlet covering
their advance. A loud, shrill blast of bugles, blended
with the dull boomings of the Norman kettle-drum, rose high
and keen upon the morning air, quite overpowering for a
moment, the louder peal of the great bells, while at the signal
the broad banner of the house of Floris was displayed on the
battlements, and a sustained and well-directed flight of shafts
and quarrels, was poured upon the enemy from that commanding
elevation. In answer to the music of the garrison the wild
marauders set up simultaneously a yell of fierce defiance, which
had in its shrill tones, something so fiendish and unearthly that
it made the heart of the firmest thrill, and struck cold consternation
through the weaker spirits of the beleagured garrison

A moment afterward a flash as if of fire was seen springing up
through the dry thatch of one of the low hovels, another, and
another, and then a broad, red glare rushed up from all the
burning village, crimsoning the whole canopy of heaven, tinging
the dusky foliage and weatherbeaten trunks of the old
pines with a strange, ruddy lustre, and showing every loop-hole
and crenelle in the castle-walls, every serf, man-at-arms and
warder on the battlements, as clearly as if it had been noonday.
Directly afterward a shaft or two were shot against the walls
from the covert afforded by the scattering groups of fruit-trees
on the esplanade, but so well did the archers on the barbacan
perform their duty, pouring in shot of long and cross-bows,
with ever and anon a huge steel-headed beam launched from
the mighty mangonel, that the routiers in that quarter fell back
at once without so much as discovering the band of De Coucy,
which if it had not been cut off, must have been desperately
endangered, at the least if the marauders had made good their
charge, and taken a position midway between the barbacan and
the knight's party. Ten minutes or a quarter of an hour had
elapsed thus, when a fresh shout was set up from above the
gate. “Gare? gare! beau sire!” and a first flight of missiles
was launched against the spot where the road issued from the
hamlet. No more was necessary to set De Coucy on his
guard; “Now!” he exclaimed, “now! gentlemen!” couching
his lance as he did so, and pricking the flanks of his black
charger with the spur. At the next instant with their wild yell,
and their accursed war-cry, the robbers wheeled out from the
cottages at a hard gallop, and for the first time perceiving the
bold baron, bore down upon him in a solid column of sixty
horse at least, with levelled lances. So well, however, had
the knight taken his position, that four men only at a time could
come against him, the narrowness of the road making it quite
impossible for more than that number to array themselves in
front, with room sufficient for the management of their steeds,
and the wielding of their weapons. This, indeed, was the
only thing which gave the least chance of success to the defenders,
yet even with this chance, the odds were fearfully
against them, particularly when it is taken into the consideration,
that Ermold though of a high and dauntless spirit, and
from his boyhood upward trained to the use of arms, was in
years but a stripling, who therefore could not be expected to
cope with full-grown men on terms of equality or vantage.
The robbers, who formed the first rank, were evidently stout
and hardy men-at-arms — he who appeared their leader riding,
when they drew out of the cover of the burning village, on their
left flank, nearest the moat and therefore facing Ivernois. He
was a tall and powerful man, above six feet in height, and
limbed proportionally to his stature, completely cased in armor,
apparently of Spanish wormanship, not of bright steel, however,
but of plain, unrelieved, dead black. To this there was but
one exception, that the whole front and vizor of his helmet had
been wrought into the shape of a bare, grinning skull, colored
in the appropriate hues, while over this dread emblem of mortality,
there waved a tall, black plume, like those which now
are used to decorate the roofs of hearses; his shield which was
black likewise, to suit the rest of his armor, was blazoned with
a scull and cross-bones argent — the barding of his destrier a
huge black Flemish stallion were framed to match his rider's
panoply, and altogether it would have been difficult to find a
stouter or better appointed-cavalier, though there was something
awful and disgusting in the emblazonry he had adopted, with
the intention clearly of striking terror to the hearts of his opponents.
As soon as this formidable personage descried the
knight of Coucy, he shouted something to his nearest comrade,
the import of which was drowned by the thunder of the horses'
hoofs and the din of the plate-coats; but it was easy to perceive
what must have been the meaning of the cry, for spurring out
a little way before his rank, he passaged quickly to his right,
his comrade making the same movement to the left, and then
reined back immediately into the line, placing himself, as the
result of this manœuvre directly opposite to Hugues. The
three companions of the black rider, were all strong troopers
completely armed, and powerfully mounted; but their appointments
were in no respect to be compared to the accoutrements
of Talebardin, for he it was who bore that grisly frontlet, though
all but one had in some slight degree endeavored to increase
the terror which everywhere accompanied their presence by
some detestable and horrid signs of carnage. Thus one of them,
it was he who now couched his spear against Giles Ivernois, a
tall man in a brazen harness with a particolored feather of red
and purple, had hung about his neck, after the fashion of a
knightly chain, a string of human teeth, torn from the jaws of
living victims to force them to produce their real or suspected
treasures. The third; a slighter figure who wore a shirt of
dim and rusty mail, had decked his casque in lieu of crest or
plume with a thick, plated tress of beautiful soft, sunny hair,
dabbled in many places by dark stains of gore, which must have
been shorn from the head of some highborn and lovely female.
The fourth alone was armed in clear, bright steel, carefully
kept and polished, and had adopted no more odious emblem of
his calling than a green plume in his casque, and a green dragon
painted on his shield, seeming to indicate his Saxon origin.
Long as it has occupied us to describe the leaders of the routiers,
it did not take the great French champion five seconds
to run over all the details with his bright intellectual eye, before
he called aloud to his men, to bear them bravely, shouted
his war-cry of St. Paul, and dashed with his four lances against
the overwhelming force of the marauders.

Talebard Talebardin bore him like a man; his spear-head

struck full on the fess-point of De Coucy's shield, and bored
it through and through, but turned quite blunt and edgeless as
it encountered the fine temper of his Milan plastron, the tough
ash staff bursting into a hundred splinters up to the very grasp
of his gauntlet. Not so the champion's: he had charged his
lance full at the hollow socket of the skull-avantaille's right
eye, and had it entered there, the race of Talebardin had been
run on earth that moment; but just as they closed, the robber
seeing his peril, threw his head up sharply, so that the lance-point
struck below the eye just where the vizor met the beaver,
and tore the helmet, which remained upon the baron's spear,
quite off the ruffian's head. Still Talebard sat firmly in his
saddle till the knight's destrier plunged in, and striking with
the horn of his steel chamfront under the bardings of the other's
counter, forced him to rear up, and then hurled him backward,
falling upon his rider and overthrowing two more of the robbers
who rode next behind. The like success attended each
one of the Coucy's followers; Giles Ivernois' antagonist went
down, his throat transfixed above the gorget's rim, that the
steel-point came out, all stained and gory, under the edge of
his cerveilliere. Francon Von Voorhis broke his spear fairly
with the English rider, but better horsed than he, bore him
down by the shock, while strange to say, young Ermold, though
slighter in his frame and weaker from his years than any of the
others, charged with such prowess striking his man upon the
crest, that he hurled him ten feet out of his saddle, and his
own horse outmastering his bridle-arm drove on with his lance
still unbroken, and in its rest, and splintered it in full career
against the shield of a robber in the second rank bearing him
likewise to the ground. “Ha! a good lance! a good lance,
and a better blow,” shouted the baron, as he saw his young
esquire's fair exploit; “rein up now, rein up all, and back with
no delay. Giles Ivernois, take thou my lance and pitch it in
the wall above the barbacan. Back, back at once — hearest
thou not, Francon? Back both of you;” and though reluctantly
and slowly, both did fall back at his command, while he, unsheathing
his two-handed broadsword, prepared to cover their
retreat. Ermold, however, although he heard his lord's command,
and was all eager to obey, was so entangled in the melée,
that he could now by no means extricate himself; for his
unruly horse had dashed into the very centre of the robbers,
who were all in confusion reeling about and in complete disorder,
the whole of their front rank having been overthrown as
by a thunderbolt, with three men of the second, and four
horses. Well was it, therefore, for the gallant youth that they
were for the moment in so fearful disarray, and that his own
horse plunging to and fro with reckless fury augmented the
dismay, biting and kicking with his heels, and striking with
his forefeet at everything that came near him; for had it not
been so, he must have been beaten down and slain before the
champion could assist him. It was not long, however, that he
remained unaided, for shouting in a voice heard clearly over
all the din, “St. Paul! a Tankarville to the rescue!” the
baron, too, rushed into the disordered rout. The first blow
of his sweeping broadsword fell on the barded neck of a stout
war-horse, and breaking the strong plates, clove half way
through the neck, and laid both steed and rider prostrate on
the earth; the second drove in the helmet on the head of another,
and fracturing his skull, slew him upon the instant; the
third dashed down a third of his opponents, but broke the
weapon to the hilt, and left the warrior for the moment weaponless

Still the esquire was extricated from the press and rescued,
and bidding him ride in as sharply as he might, Hugues stopped
a moment to loosen his mace from the saddle-bow, then
galloped after him, leaving the routiers all in disarray, gathering

up their dead, and succording their wounded. Just at that
time, however, the archers on the barbacan who had been
quite unable to loose a shaft at all during the hand to hand encounter,
seemingly overlooked the count, or if they did not
overlook him, mistook him for one of the routiers, and discharged
a whole flight of arrows. Five or six took effect at
least upon the person of the knight, piercing his overcoat and
rebounding from his armor, but did not, such was the temper
of his panoply, wound him at all, however slightly. This, as
it seemed, however, did not satisfy them, for although did
Coucy shout with all the power of his lungs, shaking his
clinched fist angrily at the men on the walls, they followed up
their volley by bending the great mangonel against him, and
before Giles could hinder them, who had run up to the esplanade
above the barbacan, to pitch his master's lance upon the
wall, they turned the winch, and the huge engine was discharged.
The vast beam hurtled through the air, and striking
the knight's charger on the counter, buried itself in the body
of the animal, breaking its forelegs and killing it instantaneously
despite the heavy armor by which its chest was covered,
as could have been done by a modern cannon-ball.

The champion was pitched headlong, and his face striking
the ground first, he was completely stunned for the moment,
and lay there insensible with the blood streaming through
the bars of his avantaille from both nose and mouth, in
consequence of that rude concussion. Meantime, the robbers
had recovered altogether from the temporary disorder
into which they had been thrown, and rushed on in a body,
Talebard, who had regained his feet, running bare-headed
in front of all the horses to seize the prostrate champion,
nor did it appear possible at the moment that any timely
rescue could be made; for Ermold and the others within
the archway of the barbacan could not discover what was

to do without, and those on the esplanade were too far off to
give effectual assistance Giles Ivernois, indeed, rushed down
the steep stone stair, taking three steps at every clanking
stride; but he would have arrived too late, for undismayed by
the archery which was aimed at them from above, killing one
man outright and wounding several others, the routiers were
within three paces of De Coucy, who was beginning to move
faintly, as though he were recovering his consciousness, when
a man leaped the palings of the orchard and interposed himself
between the baron and the ruffians. He was a tall young
man of seven or eight and twenty years, magnificently formed
and having something of an untaught grace in his bearing.
He had no helmet on his head which was covered only by a
thick mass of jet-black curly hair, which set off admirably the
unburned hue of his expressive manly features. His eye was
dark and very brilliant, his brow broad and well developed,
and all his features fine and delicately shaped. In fact, he
was an eminently handsome man, not in form only but in feature,
and what is more remarkable, in the expression of his
features also, which was decidedly of an imaginative and intellectual
cast, with no small portion of firmness and undaunted
daring displaying itself in the vigorous outlines of his well-marked
mouth and massive jaws. His dress, however, was
much at variance with the distinguished beauty of his person;
it was the dark, coarse tunic of the cheapest serge belted about
the waist by a broad leathern strap, which was peculiar to the
serf or villeyn; his feet, too, like his head, and all his legs
from the limb downward were bare to the weather. He had
no weapons but a woodman's axe and a knife at his belt; yet
not for that did he shun to encounter a score of mail-clad veterans;
he waved the broad axe round his head, and, as the
robber-chief came on, he dealt him such a blow before he had
indeed observed the rescuer at all, that he had not by a half-instinctive
effort broken the force of the blow by his shield,
he never had moved limb any more. Luckily, at the same
moment wherein Talebard recoiled, and after staggering a
moment sank on his knee, a cross-bow bolt struck down the
next of the marauders, and profiting by the occasion, the young
man raised the count from the ground, and throwing him with
all his heavy panoply across his shoulders, he darted off with
him, as if he had been quite untrammelled by a load, toward
the barbacan, and was already leaving his pursuers far behind,
when Giles, and Ermold, and a dozen others, rushed forth and
hurried them within the arch, when the strong doors were
forced to in a moment and barred with jealous haste, while, at
the self-same point of time, the steel portcullis came clanging
down its groove of stone, and all was for the time secure.

The din, as it appeared, restored De Coucy to his senses
on the instant, for he leaped to his feet, raised his vizor, and
wiped away the blood from his beard and mustaches with his
mailed hand, exclaiming as he did so, “Where am I? — Ha!
That was a perilous mischance! — Where am I? — In the
barbacan? — Who brought me hither? — Was't thou, Ivernois?”
— “Not so, beau sire,” replied the veteran; “I was upon
the ballium when you fell; this youth here brought you off,
and brought you off, I will say, nobly. By the three kings of
Cologne, he dealt yon Talebard a blow, that, but for his shield
of proof, had split him to the chine!”

“Who art thou, then? Who art thou, my good youth, who
thus hast rescued Tankarville?”

“A serf, beau sire,” — the seneschal at once interrupted
him — “A mere Jacques Bonhomme — an ill-conditioned, insolent
serf — if one ever was on the lands of Verneuil. He has
been out marauding now, I warrant me, most likely leagued
with these same routiers, else how did it fall out he was not
in the hamlet with the rest, when all were called into the

castle? I prithee, beau sire, heed not the dog at all. I will
account with him so soon as our hands be free of this foul
scum without!”

“Nay, nay, not so, good friend,” replied the baron; “De
Coucy deals not so with his preserver;” but, as he spoke, the
din of axes plied fiercely on the outer gate fell on his ears,
and he perceived at once that a lodgment must have already
been effected by the routiers at the wall foot. “But of this
more anon!” he shouted. “Up to the esplanade! Bring
arbalasts and quarrels! — bring boiling oil, and pitch, and molten
lead! Cry Tankarville! St. Paul! — St. Paul for Tankarville!”
and he rushed up the stairs, leaving his rescuer forgotten
to the mercies of the seneschal, who thrust him instantly
into the dungeon of the castle, promising that he should
hang upon the morrow!