Once more the invaders renewed the assault, and this time ladders were brought against two opposite sides of the building. But, thanks to the trusses of flaming straw and hay, the attackers could not bring themselves to face the hazardous ascent.
Neither did the attack upon the door at the base of the Tower meet with better success, for the arrows of the besieged kept the battering-ram inactive, while those bolder than their fellows who attacked the door with axes found that, however accustomed they were to give or receive hard knocks, molten lead and boiling water were more than they could stand.
At length night drew on, and, save for an occasional arrow, the garrison were unmolested. Many of the French and Genoese, having had their fill of plunder, were busy removing their booty to the galleys. Others, mad with drink, paraded the streets uttering wild oaths and strange cries.
Those houses that had been plundered were set on fire, and, as darkness fell over the ill-fated town, the glare of fifty burning buildings illuminated the country for miles around, and served to lash the surviving inhabitants into a host of desperate and revengeful defenders of their country's shores.
[CHAPTER IX]
ON THE HEELS OF THE ENEMY
ALTHOUGH the two bailiffs, Walter de Brakkeleye and Robert de la Barre, had remained disgracefully inactive within their defences, the men of Winchester, Romsey, and other neighbouring towns and villages were massing to aid the men of Southampton, and a large and well-appointed army had gathered at Bassett, ready to wrest the pillaged town from the invaders and drive them back to their ships.
Throughout the night the defenders of St. Barbara's Tower kept anxious vigil. Of the preparations for their relief they knew nothing. But hardly had the pale dawn begun to gather in the east than the foreigners were astir, taking steps to keep the galleys afloat on the now falling tide, as if they purposed embarking once more.
Then, with a crash and a roar, the sound of fighting was heard towards the centre of the town, and from their elevated position the sorry remnant of the defenders saw the lances of the English charge down the High Street, bearing all before them. In other quarters the invaders, entangled in the narrow streets, were cut off by swarms of the infuriated inhabitants, who, knowing the peculiarities of their town, moved with consummate ease, hurling down stones and shooting arrows from the houses upon their entrapped enemy.
And now, from the Castle and the West Gate and Catchcold Towers poured the liberated garrison, eager to avenge their disgrace. Many were the encounters between the Southampton men and their foes in this quarter of the town, till, driven back by weight of numbers, the enemy, who were mostly Genoese, returned slowly past St. Barbara's Tower, contesting every inch of ground.
The little band of defenders now occupied themselves by annoying the retreating Italians with well-directed arrows, while, all danger of an assault being at an end, the barricades behind the door were removed so that the garrison could sally out and join their friends.