Captain John Smith

by C. H. Forbes-Lindsay

Between the bodies of eager spectators lay a stretch of sward, which had been enclosed in a barricade after the fashion of the lists in the old-time tournaments. Long before the hour set for the contest the troops had assembled on either side. In both armies the keenest interest in the affair prevailed and both realized that it was something more than a duel to the death, for the result would surely encourage the fighting men of one party as much as it would depress those of the other. In those days of superstition, men were ever ready to find an augury in every important event, and the army to whom the victory should fall would accept it as a promise of success in the final issue.

It must be confessed that the greater degree of confidence was enjoyed by the Turks. Their champion was a man in the prime of life and a soldier of approved valor and skill in arms. He had never been defeated in single combat, although twice pitted against Germans of renown. The Christians, on the other hand, could not shake off the doubt and apprehension which they shared with their leader when the lot fell to the young Briton. The army had long since learned to respect his courage and fighting qualities in battle, and of his quick-wittedness they had received ample proof on the march to Regall. But none of them had any evidence of his ability to yield the lance, a weapon that demanded years of practice before a man might become expert with it. Thus it happened that the Germans, of whom the army was mostly composed, stood grim, silent and anxious, whilst the swarthy Ottomans gave vent to their elation in song and jest.

The combatants were to meet when the sun should be precisely in mid-heaven so that neither might be at the disadvantage of having its rays in his eyes. The rules required the challenger to be the first in the field and in due time Tur Pasha, heralded by the sounds of hautboys, passed through the gates of the city and slowly made his way into the lists. His appearance elicited enthusiastic shouts from his countrymen and even forced ejaculations of admiration from the ranks of their enemies.

The Turkish champion presented a brave figure. His proud bearing and graceful carriage in the saddle were enhanced by the stately action of the beautiful white Arab steed which he rode. He was clad in a splendid suit of burnished steel armor, richly inlaid with arabesque figures in gold. Upon his shoulders were fixed a pair of large wings made from eagles’ feathers set in a frame of silver and garnished with gold and precious stones. He was attended by three Janizaries, one going before and bearing his lance, the others walking on either side and leading his horse to the station assigned him.

No sooner had Tur Pasha taken up position at his end of the lists, than a flourish of trumpets announced the appearance of John Smith. The champion of the Christians presented an aspect as simple as his name and no less sturdy. His chestnut horse was a big, strong Norman, of the breed far-famed for service in battle. His armor was of plain steel and bore upon its surface many a dent in eloquent witness of hard knocks. The only touch of finery about the Englishman was the plume of black feathers which surmounted his helmet. He came upon the field attended by one page carrying his lance.

After Captain Smith had halted at his post, the two champions sat like statues facing each other for a few minutes, affording the spectators opportunity to compare their points. At a signal blast from the trumpet, the antagonists rode forward slowly and met midway in the course. Saluting courteously, they passed each other, wheeled about and returned to their respective stations.

A prolonged note from the trumpet warned the combatants to let down their vizors and set their lances in rest. The next gave the signal for the onset, and before it had died away each horseman had sprung forward urging his charger to its utmost speed. As soon as he felt that his horse was in full career, Smith leant forward, slackening the bridle and grasping the pommel of the saddle with his left hand to steady himself. His lance was couched at a level with his adversary’s breast and his gaze was steadily fixed on the slit in the vizor through which the wearer looked.

Nearer and nearer approached the onrushing horsemen. A few more strides, two brief seconds and they must meet in the shock. John can at last discern the glistening eyes of the Turk and in that instant he raises the point of his lance toward the other’s face. The sudden movement disconcerts the Turkish champion. Involuntarily he shifts his aim and his weapon passes harmlessly over the Englishman’s shoulder at the moment that our hero’s lance enters the eye of Tur Pasha and penetrates his brain. He fell from his horse and Smith leapt to the ground and unbuckled his helmet. A glance sufficed to show that the Turk was dead and with a stroke of his sword John severed the head from the body.

Whilst the pagans in mournful procession carried the headless trunk of their recent champion into Regall, Smith was triumphantly escorted back to the camp of the besiegers. He ordered the head of Tur Pasha to be borne to the quarters of Prince Moyses, who was pleased to accept the grizzly trophy. The spoils of victory were not unacceptable to John, but he had no desire to trick himself out in the fancy armor with its trimmings, and these he sold for a good round sum. The horse, however, he was glad to keep, for he had long wished for an extra mount for light service, but heretofore his slender means had denied him that advantage. In the wars of the time, captains who could afford to do so kept two or more horses during a campaign, one to carry them on the march and another to ride in battle, for a man in armor was no light burden, and a beast that had borne its master ten or twelve miles would not be fit at the end of the journey for great exertion, although the life of its owner might depend upon its rendering spirited service. Captain Smith now had the satisfaction of knowing that he was one of the best mounted men in the army, for the Arab was a marvel of speed and agility and the Norman had been thoroughly trained by himself and was a perfect battle-horse.

The chief mourner in Regall was one Grualgo, a fierce warrior, who had been the bosom friend of the slain pasha. When the funeral rites had been performed after the Muhammadan custom, Grualgo sent a message to Captain John Smith proposing to redeem his friend’s head at the risk of his own. He also offered to pledge his horse, arms and accoutrements on the issue. It is hardly necessary to say that the challenge was accepted with alacrity. Flushed with his recent victory and more than ever confident in his skill, our champion was delighted at this early chance for another display of his prowess. The consent of the general was readily obtained. Prince Moyses was greatly pleased at the cheering effect Smith’s success had worked upon the troops and he was no longer doubtful of the Briton’s ability to uphold the honor of the Christian army. The preparations were made as before, and the next day was appointed for the combat.