Captain John Smith

by C. H. Forbes-Lindsay

The lights of the camp were out and the army was apparently sunk in slumber, when a large force of Turks galloped in among the tents and charged forward with their battle-cry of “Allah! Allah ud Din!” (God and the Faith!) They expected an easy slaughter and escape with little loss but this time things were to fall out differently. The leading ranks of the Turks were in full career when they came upon the hidden ropes, and as their horses struck them they pitched forward upon their heads, throwing their riders at the very feet of the Christians waiting with sword in hand to dispatch them. Rank after rank of the Turks rode into the trap and fell atop of one another in a shrieking, struggling mass. Meanwhile Meldritch’s men-at-arms stabbed and hewed with might and main, slaughtering their enemies with a fury excited by the recollection of their nameless cruelties. By the time the less advanced of the Turkish horsemen, realizing that they were entrapped, had turned about, they found themselves face to face with a cordon of Meldritch’s cavalry which completely cut off their retreat. In the end the entire body, numbering about five hundred, was slain. In those days prisoners were seldom taken in wars with infidels, and it was not often that the fanatical Turks would ask quarter of the unbeliever.

After this affair the march was resumed with very little interference on the part of the enemy until the mountains of Zarham were reached. Here began the most difficult part of the military operation. Regall was situated in a small table-land which formed the crest of an isolated mountain. It was approachable only on one side and there the ascent must be made by a rough and narrow path. It is no wonder that the Turks deemed Regall impregnable and entrusted their women and their treasures to the security of its position. The city had never been taken and it is doubtful whether it would have fallen to a less determined and able body of men than the veterans under Meldritch.

A picked force was chosen to form the advance guard and John, in consideration of his recent services, was permitted to take his place in it. The work of this body was to clear and hold the road up the mountain which was defended by the Turks with the utmost obstinacy. Every foot of the way was contested and the advance guard lost a large proportion of its number, but at last it gained the top. The main body of the army and the big guns then made the ascent. When, after the weary weeks of fighting and marching, Meldritch’s division camped in sight of the gates of Regall it had dwindled to fewer than eight thousand men.

The city was garrisoned by twenty thousand Turks and had an ample supply of provisions. Under these conditions the Earl entertained no thought of attacking it but wisely contented himself with entrenching his position and repelling the frequent sorties of the besieged. In a few days Prince Moyses arrived with a reinforcement of nine thousand men and took over the chief command. The Christian army now proceeded to construct approaches to the city and to mount their guns in commanding positions.

This work of preparation, which was performed with careful deliberation, consumed several weeks, and the delay tended to encourage the garrison. They foolishly attributed it to timidity and began to display contempt for the beleaguering army. They paraded upon the ramparts effigies of Christians hanging from gallows and shouted derisive messages to the besiegers. At length this over-confidence of the Turks took a form that afforded the besiegers a chance to prove that they were still awake and prepared for action.

One day a messenger from the city was admitted to the presence of Prince Moyses under a flag of truce. He was the bearer of a lengthy document couched in pompous language which, after reproaching the Christians for the lack of exercise that was making them fat and timid, expressed a fear that they would depart from the city without affording any pastime to the ladies of it. That this might not be, Tur Pasha, a Turkish general, challenged to single combat any champion whom the Christian army might put forward. The combat was to be fought after the fashion of knightly times, with which the Turks had become familiar during the Crusades, and the head of the vanquished, together with everything brought into the field by him, should become the property of the victor.

The challenge was received with delight in the Christian army and as soon as it became known scores of captains pressed forward for the privilege of accepting it. In order to avoid jealousy and discontent by singling one out of so many brave men, the commander determined to decide the question by casting lots. Young John Smith was among the most eager candidates for the honor of representing the army and his name and those of the others were written upon scraps of paper and shaken up in a helmet. It was a breathless moment when Prince Moyses thrust his hand into the casque and drew forth the billet upon which his fingers closed.

“John Smith, the Englander, is our champion,” he announced to the throng, with a shade of disappointment in his voice. He had hoped that the honor might fall to one of his own countrymen and, although Count Meldritch had spoken with warmth of John’s courage and prowess, the Prince felt doubtful of the ability of a mere stripling to defeat an experienced warrior.

As John was about to go to his tent, his heart full of joy at the wonderful good fortune that had befallen him, Prince Moyses beckoned him to his side. It was in the mind of the general to ask Smith to waive his right in favor of some older and better tried captain, but the first glance at the young man’s eager face convinced his commander that it would be useless to pursue the purpose. Instead he inquired whether Smith’s horse and equipment were all that he could desire and what weapons he would choose, having as the challenged the right of selection. John replied that his horse had proved itself a trusty beast in many a sharp skirmish since the battle of Girkhe and for the weapon, he would name the lance in the handling of which he feared not to pit himself against any mortal man.

As he made this truthful but, nevertheless, somewhat boastful statement, John fancied that he detected a faint smile flickering about the corners of the Prince’s mouth. He flushed at the thought that his general might be inwardly laughing at his pretensions, and said, with some show of heat: