It was no easy matter, however, for the French to get out of the city which they had entered as conquerors, for the flail of the south gate had been placed transversely across, and greatly impeded their egress, especially that of the cavalry. In fact, when they rode up to escape, they were fain to dismount to open the gate; and when they passed out it immediately closed, and the flail again fell across it, so that the process of dismounting had to be gone through by every party of fugitive horsemen, and almost by every individual horseman. It was well for them that the English were that day in no sanguinary mood, for had there been any strong inclination in Pembroke’s ranks to deal summarily with the foe, few, if any, of the vanquished would have left Lincoln alive.
As it was, their position was not enviable. All over the country through which they had to pass on their way to London the yeomen and peasantry were abroad, armed with swords and bludgeons, and did terrible execution among the fugitives, both horse and foot, smiting them hip and thigh, and giving them no quarter. Nevertheless, two hundred knights reached the capital, and carried intelligence to the citizens that all was lost, that the grand army, which had on the last day of April marched out of their gates with such high hopes of triumph, was utterly destroyed, and that Pembroke was in a fair way of putting all King Henry’s enemies, whether barons or citizens, under King Henry’s feet.
Moreover, the news was speedily carried by the French fugitives to Dover, where Louis was making his third attempt to take the castle, which held out so bravely under Hubert de Burgh.
“By St. Denis!” said the prince with a sneer, “it is all owing to your flight that your comrades have been taken captive. Had you acted the part of brave men you might have saved all.”
CHAPTER LI
DE MOREVILLE IN BATTLE HARNESS
AS Pembroke was marching on Lincoln from the North, and the French and Anglo-Normans were arraying themselves for the combat, a very important arrival took place. In fact, Hugh de Moreville—attended by Sir Anthony Waledger, Ralph Hornmouth, and his young kinsman Richard—with a strong body of horse at his back, entered the city by the south gate. De Moreville’s arrival was hailed with cheers; for, however unpopular generally, his fame as a warrior made him welcome in the hour of danger; and the Count de Perche could not conceal his satisfaction as the haughty Norman presented himself.
Now it may as well be mentioned at once that De Moreville had not been attracted to Lincoln by any enthusiasm for Prince Louis, of whom he was weary, nor by any love of the French warriors, of whose arrogance he was heartily sick, and of whose affectations of superiority he was very much more impatient than others of his class. But since the night when Collingham so suddenly found his way into Chas-Chateil, De Moreville had been much more nervous on all points than of yore, and reflecting seriously on the past and speculating keenly on the future, he saw that his interests were bound up with the cause of Prince Louis, and that a decisive triumph of young Henry’s adherents would lead to his utter ruin. All would go that made him the great personage he was—castles, and manors, and feudal power; and he would have to hide his head in a cloister or fare forth to foreign lands and fight as a soldier of fortune.
No man was therefore more interested in the issue of the struggle going on; and having left his daughter at his house in Ludgate, under the charge of Dame Waledger, he hastened to Lincoln, which he knew was likely to be the place where the crisis of the war would come. But he did not dream of giving any hint of the motives by which he was animated; and even De Perche was so convinced of the Norman’s hearty good-will towards Louis and himself, that he ascribed the arrival to pure enthusiasm, and the count gave him so flattering a reception that De Moreville was fain to be more hypocritical than was his wont.
“Ha! my good Lord De Moreville,” exclaimed De Perche, joyfully, “welcome in the hour of danger. Our enemies are even now at the gates, and are coming in greater force than I anticipated.”
“Let them come,” said De Moreville, smiling grimly; “we have no reason to grow alarmed at their approach. William Marshal and William Albini are Norman nobles, like myself, and falcons fear not falcons.”