Edgar the Ready: A Tale of the Third Edward's Reign

by W. P. Shervill

The English esquires wheeled into their places and, headed by their captain, Arthur Pomeroy, cantered gaily into the lists in single file simultaneously with their adversaries. Amidst a gay fanfare of trumpets, the two lines of steel-clad horsemen filed, saluting, before the Earl of Derby. Then, without a pause, they diverged to their own ends of the lists, each man halting his steed and turning as the line passed his own position. In a very few seconds the files of prancing horsemen became two lines of motionless figures with lances couched, facing one another watchfully.

There was but a slight pause, and then the marshals gave the signal for the onset. And loud the trumpets blared!

With a thunder of hoofs, the two walls of steel dashed swiftly inwards, as though drawn by a gigantic magnet, and met in the centre of the lists with a crash that could be heard for miles. Indeed, men passing to and fro in the city streets and alleys heard the noise, and stopped to question one another as to what it portended.

Five men--two English and three Gascons--bit the dust in that first terrific onset, and the survivors, with few thoughts for the vanquished, rode at one another fiercely, and with sword, lance, or axe, whichever was most to their user's liking, hewed and thrust at one another with heartiest goodwill.

Edgar struck his opponent full on the shield with the point of his lance, and, to his surprise, the impact lifted his opponent out of the saddle and sent him crashing backwards to the ground. The shock must have been great, for the unfortunate esquire lay just where he had fallen, motionless, and apparently senseless. Fearing lest he might be trampled upon in the mêlée, for the dust was rising and the combatants could scarce see what was under their horses' feet, Edgar slipped quickly from his saddle, raised the fallen man, and bore him away out of the press.

His temporary withdrawal made the two forces again equal, but this equality was of very short duration, for one of the Gascons, who was known as Guilbert "Strongarm", was an esquire of great bulk and tremendous strength, and with two successive swings of his huge battleaxe smote two of the English esquires so strongly that they dropped half-fainting from their saddles.

Arthur Pomeroy, who, as captain, kept watch over what was happening to others of his force while fighting his own battle, saw that his side was in immediate peril of being vanquished offhand, and called loudly to Edgar to resume the combat.

"Mount, Edgar! Mount and aid us!"

Though he had not seen the deadly strokes that had so altered the complexion of affairs, Edgar guessed that things were going ill, and hastily handed the stricken man to pages who hovered on the outskirts of the fight. His horse had followed him, and, vaulting into the saddle, he spurred once more into the conflict.

His re-entry was somewhat unexpected to the Gascons, and, still possessing the lance that had already done such good service, he could easily have unhorsed Guilbert from the rear. But disdaining to defeat a foe so ingloriously, Edgar smartly tapped his lance upon his backplate and waited. Guilbert and one of his comrades were busily hacking at Arthur Pomeroy, who was fighting desperately and wheeling his steed continuously in his efforts to keep the twain at bay. Astounded at the buffet from the rear, Guilbert hastily turned and rode at Edgar, leaning over in his saddle and swinging his great battleaxe in readiness for a telling blow.