St. George for England: A Tale of Cressy and PoitiersHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
History
St. George for England: A Tale of Cressy and Poitiers
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Great Britain -- History -- Edward III, 1327-1377 -- Fiction
"I agree with you, Ralph. I believe that the reason which he gave the
count for his request was not a true one, though, indeed, I can see no
other motive which he could have for seeking to gain possession of me.
Sir Philip, although a valiant knight, bears but an indifferent
reputation. I have heard that he is a cruel master to his serfs, and
that when away fighting in Germany he behaved so cruelly to the
peasantry that even the Germans, who are not nice in their modes of
warfare, cried out against him. It is an evil fortune that has thrown
us into his hands; still, although grasping and avaricious, he can
hardly demand for a simple knight any inordinate ransom. The French
themselves would cry out did he do so, seeing that so large a number of
their own knights are in our hands, and that the king has ample powers
of retaliation; however, we need not look on the dark side. It is not
likely that our captivity will be a long one, for the prince, who is the
soul of generosity, will not haggle over terms, but will pay my ransom
as soon as he hears into whose hands I have fallen, while there are
scores of men-at-arms prisoners whom he can exchange for you. Doubtless
Sir Philip will send you over as soon as he arrives at his castle, with
one of his own followers, to treat for my ransom."
After riding for some hours the troop halted their weary horses in a
wood, and lighting fires, cooked their food, and then lay down until
morning. Sir Philip exchanged but few words with his captive; as, having
removed his helm, he sat by the fire, Walter had an opportunity of
seeing his countenance. It did not belie his reputation. His face had a
heavy and brutal expression which was not decreased by the fashion of
his hair, which was cut quite short, and stood up without parting all
over his bullet-shaped head; he had a heavy and bristling mustache which
was cut short in a line with his lips.
[Illustration: "THIS IS A DUNGEON FOR A FELON," HE EXCLAIMED.--Page
273.]
"It is well," Walter thought to himself, "that it is my ransom rather
than my life which is dear to that evil-looking knight; for, assuredly,
he is not one to hesitate did fortune throw a foe into his hands."
At daybreak the march was resumed, and was continued until they reached
the castle of Sir Philip Holbeaut, which stood on a narrow tongue of
land formed by a sharp bend of the Somme.
On entering the castle the knight gave an order to his followers, and
the prisoners were at once led to a narrow cell beneath one of the
towers. Walter looked round indignantly when he arrived there.
"This is a dungeon for a felon," he exclaimed, "not the apartment for a
knight who has been taken captive in fair fight. Tell your master that
he is bound to award me honorable treatment, and that unless he removes
me instantly from this dungeon to a proper apartment, and treats me with
all due respect and courtesy, I will, when I regain my liberty, proclaim
him a dishonored knight."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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