The Lion of the North: A Tale of the Times of Gustavus AdolphusHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
History
The Lion of the North: A Tale of the Times of Gustavus Adolphus
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Gustav II Adolf, King of Sweden, 1594-1632 -- Fiction; Thirty Years' War, 1618-1648 -- Fiction
Malcolm crossed at once. After despatching the message to the king and
sending the officer back with the boats he had for the moment nothing
to do, and made his way into the town to inquire from the officers of
Ramsay's detachment how things were going. He found the men drawn up.
“Ah! Malcolm Graheme,” the major in command said, “you have arrived in
the very nick of time to take part in a gallant enterprise.”
“I am ready,” Malcolm said; “what is to be done?”
“We are going to take the castle, that is all,” the major said.
“You are joking,” Malcolm laughed, looking at the great castle and the
little band of two hundred men.
“That am I not,” the major answered; “my men have just discovered a
private passage from the governor's quarters here up to the very gate
of the outer wall. As you see we have collected some ladders, and as we
shall take them by surprise, while they are occupied with the king, we
shall give a good account of them.”
“I will go with you right willingly,” Malcolm said; but he could not but
feel that the enterprise was a desperate one, and wished that the major
had waited until a few hundred more men had crossed. Placing himself
behind the Scottish officer, he advanced up the passage which had been
discovered. Ascending flight after flight of stone stairs, the column
issued from the passage at the very foot of the outer wall before the
garrison stationed there were aware of their approach. The ladders were
just placed when the Italians caught sight of them and rushed to the
defence, but it was too late. The Scotch swarmed up and gained a footing
on the wall.
Driving the enemy before them they cleared the outer works, and pressed
so hotly upon the retiring Imperialists that they entered with them into
the inner works of the castle, crossing the drawbridge over the moat
which separated it from its outer works before the garrison had time to
raise it.
Now in the very heart of the castle a terrible encounter took place. The
garrison, twelve hundred strong, ran down from their places on the wall,
and seeing how small was the force that had entered fell upon them
with fury. It was a hand to hand fight. Loud rose the war cries of the
Italian and Spanish soldiers, and the answering cheers of the Scots
mingled with the clash of sword on steel armour and the cries of the
wounded, while without the walls the cannon of Gustavus thundered
incessantly.
Not since the dreadful struggle in the streets of New Brandenburg had
Malcolm been engaged in so desperate a strife. All order and regularity
was lost, and man to man they fought with pike, sword, and clubbed
musket. There was no giving of orders, for no word could be heard in
such a din, and the officers with their swords and half pikes fought
desperately in the melee with the rest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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