“Denise!” and wheeling his horse he went away at a gallop.
De Montfort had the news soon after dawn that May morning as his host came streaming through the woods of Newick. Sending forward a company of knights and men-at-arms under young De Clare and William de Monchesny, Simon followed on with the main body, climbing the narrow coombe that led to the chalk ridge running westwards from Lewes town. The vanguard had found Marpasse’s solitary sentinel still asleep on the hillside, and they woke him roughly, and laughed at his gaping and astonished face. Meanwhile the main host gained the ridge, and pouring on steadily in the morning sunshine, did not halt their banners till they could see the bell tower of the Priory of St. Pancras.
Simon, who had been carried in a litter through the Newick woods because of a wrenched tendon in the leg, mounted his horse, and rode out in front of the ranks. Standing in the stirrups he spoke a few brave words to hearten his men, pointed to the white cross he wore, and commended himself and the host to God.
“God, and the Cross,” the shout came back to him.
Some knelt, others prostrated themselves, with arms outspread, and kissed the earth. The King would have to fight an army of zealots that morning.
De Montfort soon had his battle in order. He divided his host into three main bodies, each holding one of the promontories or spurs into which the chalk ridge broke on the side towards Lewes. On the northern spur that stretched towards the castle stood the Londoners under Nicholas de Segrave. Young Gilbert de Clare had the centre, and with him were John Fitz-John and William de Monchesny and the pick of the Barons’ host. On the southern spur were De Montfort’s two sons, Guy and Henry, and with them Humphrey de Bohun and John de Burgh. Simon himself remained with the reserve, and he had called about him some of the men whom he could trust to the last blow, men whom he could weld together, and hurl like rock into the fight, to beat back a charge or to tear a passage. Aymery and Waleran de Monceaux were with Earl Simon, knee to knee, and speaking hardly at all. To deceive the King, De Montfort’s litter was packed with certain London merchants who had plotted against the cause, and set with the Earl’s standard on the higher ground towards the west. There also was stationed the baggage. Young William le Blund had command of the guard.
The Barons’ men, resting in their places after a nine miles’ march, and quietly making a meal, were able to watch at their leisure and to their own comfort the scurry and alarm in the town and Priory below. The King’s host ran to arms amid infinite confusion. Trumpets blew, bells rang, banners went tossing hither and thither like bright clothes blown abroad by the wind. Something suspiciously like a panic had seized some of the less disciplined troops camped about the Priory. Knights and captains who had scrambled into their battle harness, had to ride in among their men and beat courage into them with the flat of the sword. Prince Edward, who had the flower of knighthood with him in the castle, was the first to take the field. They came pouring out from the town and the castle, a gorgeous cataract of heavily-armed men, surcoats ablaze, shields flashing gules and or, azure, argent, and vert; pennons jigging, banners aslant from gilded banner staffs. Their van curled like a brilliant billow carrying the masts of many ships, and flecked with steel for foam. The great, grotesque war helmets were like the masks of strange creatures called up by a magician’s wand. Their trumpets rang out cheerily, sending a thrill through the hearts of Simon’s men. The Londoners, who faced this mass of lords and knights, and burly free-lances, began to talk too much, and to give each other orders.
Denise and Marpasse were with the baggage behind De Montfort’s standard. They had climbed into a waggon, and could see a great part of the field stretched out before them. Dark columns were pouring up from the Priory, and Marpasse, who was watching them, caught Denise by the arm.
“Look yonder, they have hoisted the Red Dragon.”
The whole of Simon’s host had seen it also, for a long sullen roar rose like that of a wave breaking upon shingle.