A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, KnightStrang, Herbert
History
A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, Knight
Strang, Herbert
Adventure stories; Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Juvenile fiction
We rode forth one misty afternoon, and picked our way not without
trouble among the runnels and made watercourses wherewith that flat and
marshy land abounds. Perceiving no sign of the enemy, I was tempted to
approach more closely to their lines than consorted with prudence. As
we rode by a narrow bridle path betwixt a patch of woodland and a field
in stubble, on a sudden, from among the trees, cloaked in a measure by
the mist, there sprang upon us a troop of corseleted horsemen. They
had, I doubted not, got wind of my approach, and lain in wait under
covert of the wood to cut me off.
Some of our fine gentlemen that showed their bravery at court were wont
to boast that one Englishman was a match for five Spaniards; but such
vainglorious brag is bemocked by those who, as I myself, have
encountered those doughty warriors in the field. The Spaniard may be a
paltry adversary on the seas, though even there I have met with some
that were no mean fellows. Howbeit on land I found them valorous and
redoubtable foemen, whom to despise would argue a pitiful ignorance and
marvellous ill reckoning.
I had with me six or seven stout fellows, good swordsmen and well
seasoned to war; but our enemy numbered a full score, who smote upon us
like thunder and bore us down by sheer weight and fury. In my time I
have been in many a sore strait and hazard, but never stood I in such
jeopardy as when two of my men were cast headlong from their saddles and
the Spaniards held the rest of us like rats in a trap. We had not time
to wheel about and trust to the speed of our horses; the utmost that we
could do was to back among the trees and play the man. There was a
mighty clashing of steel upon armour as we gave stroke for stroke; but
the enemy beset us vehemently, and had well-nigh encompassed us without
hope of life, when, in the twinkling of an eye, there leapt from the
depths of the wood a half-score of wild and unkempt figures, that flung
themselves with exceeding heat and fury into the thick of the mellay,
making marvellous quick play with their short knives, both upon the
horses and the bodies of the Spaniards, at the joints of their harness.
This timely interposition put new heart into my stout fellows, who plied
their swords with such manful resolution as made the Spaniards, already
confused and baffled by the waspish newcomers, take thought for their
safety and seek to draw out of danger. In short, within two minutes
such of them as had not fallen betook themselves to flight, spurring
their steeds every man in a contrary direction. My men in the fervency
of victory made to pursue them; whereupon, being in no mind to be
enticed further within the enemy’s lines, I halloed to them loudly to
refrain. They reined up and cantered back to me, save one headstrong
and reckless fellow, John Temple by name, who pressed hard on the heels
of the rearmost Spaniard, and was soon lost to sight beyond the confines
of the wood.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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