“Ay, ay,” said the king, with a sudden and fierce cry, “we go,—but at least slaughtering as we go. See! yon rascal troop! ride we through their midst! Havock and revenge!”
He set spurs to his steed, galloped over the bridge, and before his companions could join him, dashed alone into the very centre of the advanced guard sent to invest the fortress, and while they were yet shouting, “Where is the tyrant, where is Edward?”
“Here!” answered a voice of thunder,—“here, rebels and faytors, in your ranks!”
This sudden and appalling reply, even more than the sweep of the gigantic sword, before which were riven sallet and mail as the woodman’s axe rives the fagot, created amongst the enemy that singular panic, which in those ages often scattered numbers before the arm and the name of one. They recoiled in confusion and dismay. Many actually threw down their arms and fled. Through a path broad and clear amidst the forest of pikes, Gloucester and the captains followed the flashing track of the king, over the corpses, headless or limbless, that he felled as he rode.
Meanwhile, with a truer chivalry, Hastings, taking advantage of the sortie which confused and delayed the enemy, summoned such of the loyal as were left in the fortress, advised them, as the only chance of life, to affect submission to Warwick; but when the time came, to remember their old allegiance, [Sharon Turner, vol. iii. 280.] and promising that he would not desert them, save with life, till their safety was pledged by the foe, reclosed his visor, and rode back to the front of the bridge.
And now the king and his comrades had cut their way through all barrier, but the enemy still wavered and lagged, till suddenly the cry of “Robin of Redesdale!” was heard, and sword in hand, Hilyard, followed by a troop of horse, dashed to the head of the besiegers, and, learning the king’s escape, rode off in pursuit. His brief presence and sharp rebuke reanimated the falterers, and in a few minutes they gained the bridge.
“Halt, sirs,” cried Hastings; “I would offer capitulation to your leader! Who is he?”
A knight on horseback advanced from the rest. Hastings lowered the point of his sword.
“Sir, we yield this fortress to your hands upon one condition,—our men yonder are willing to submit, and shout with you for Henry VI. Pledge me your word that you and your soldiers spare their lives and do them no wrong, and we depart.”
“And if I pledge it not?” said the knight.