The Splendid Spur Part 32
You’re reading novel The Splendid Spur Part 32 online at LightNovelFree.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit LightNovelFree.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy!
The Lord Mohun nodded, surly enough: so, Billy's cider being now drunk and Molly given over to an ostler, we set out down the hill together, Billy shouldering a pipe and walking after with the groom that led Sir Ralph's horse. Be sure the General's courtly manner of speech set my blood tingling. I seem'd to grow a full two inches taller; and when, in the vale, we parted, he directing me to the left, where through a gap I could see Sir Bevill's troop forming at some five hundred paces' distance, I felt a very desperate warrior indeed; and set off at a run, with Billy behind me.
'Twas an open s.p.a.ce we had to cross, dotted with gorsebushes; and the enemy's regiments, plain to see, drawn up in battalia on the slope above, which here was gentler than to the south and west. But hardly had we gone ten yards than I saw a puff of white smoke above, then another, and then the summit ring'd with flame; and heard the noise of it roaring in the hills around. At the first sound I pull'd up, and then began running again at full speed: for I saw our division already in motion, and advancing up the hill at a quick pace.
The curve of the slope hid all but the nearest: but above them I saw a steep earthwork, and thereon three or four bra.s.s pieces of ordnance glittering whenever the smoke lifted. For here the artillery was plying the briskest, pouring down volley on volley; and four regiments at least stood ma.s.s'd behind, ready to fall on the Cornish-men; who, answering with a small discharge of musketry, now ran forward more nimbly.
To catch up with them, I must now turn my course obliquely up the hill, where running was pretty toilsome. We were panting along when suddenly a shower of sand and earth was dash'd in my face, spattering me all over. Half-blinded, I look'd and saw a great round shot had ploughed a trench in the ground at my feet, and lay there buried.
At the same moment, Billy, who was running at my shoulder, plumps down on his knees and begins to whine and moan most pitiably.
"Art hurt, dear fellow?" asked I, turning.
"Oh, Jack, Jack--I have no stomach for this! A cool, wet death at sea I do not fear; only to have the great hot shot burning in a man's belly--'tis terrifying. I _hate_ a swift death! Jack, I be a sinner--I will confess: I lied to thee yesterday--never kiss'd the three maids I spoke of--never kiss'd but one i' my life, an' her a tap-wench, that slapp'd my face for 't, an' so don't properly count. I be a very boastful man!"
Now I myself had felt somewhat cold inside when the guns began roaring: but this set me right in a trice. I whipp'd a pistol out of my sash and put the cold ring to his ear: and he scrambled up; and was a very lion all the rest of the day.
But now we had again to change our course, for to my dismay I saw a line of sharpshooters moving down among the gorsebushes, to take the Cornishmen in flank. And 'twas lucky we had but a little way further to go; for these skirmishers, thinking perhaps from my dress and our running thus that we bore some message open'd fire on us: and tho'
they were bad marksmen, 'twas ugly to see their bullets pattering into the turf, to right and left.
We caught up the very last line of the ascending troop--lean, hungry looking men, with wan faces, but shouting l.u.s.tily. I think they were about three hundred in all. "Come on, lad," called out a bearded fellow with a bandage over one eye, making room for me at his side; "there's work for plenty more!"--and a minute after, a shot took him in the ribs, and he scream'd out "Oh, my G.o.d!" and flinging up his arms, leap'd a foot in air and fell on his face.
Pressing up, I noted that the first line was now at the foot of the earthwork; and, in a minute, saw their steel caps and crimson sashes swarming up the face of it, and their pikes s.h.i.+ning. But now came a shock, and the fellow in front was thrust back into my arms. I reeled down a pace or two and then, finding foothold, stood pus.h.i.+ng.
And next, the whole body came tumbling back on me, and down the hill we went flying, with oaths and cries. Three of the rebel regiments had been flung on us and by sheer weight bore us before them. At the same time the sharpshooters pour'd in a volley: and I began to see how a man may go through a battle, and be beat, without striking a blow.
But in the midst of this scurry I heard the sound of cheering. 'Twas Sir John Berkeley's troop (till now posted under cover of the hedges below) that had come to our support; and the rebels, fearing to advance too far, must have withdrawn again behind their earthwork, for after a while the pressure eas'd a bit, and, to my amaze, the troop which but a minute since was a mere huddled crowd, formed in some order afresh, and once more began to climb. This time, I had a thick-set pikeman in front of me, with a big wen at the back of his neck that seem'd to fix all my attention. And up we went, I counting the beat of my heart that was already going hard and short with the work; and then, amid the rattle and thunder of their guns, we stopp'd again.
I had taken no notice of it, but in the confusion of the first repulse the greater part of our men had been thrust past me, so that now I found myself no further back than the fourth rank, and at the very foot of the earthwork, up the which our leaders were flung like a wave; and soon I was scrambling after them, ankle deep in the sandy earth, the man with the wen just ahead, grinding my instep with his heel and poking his pike staff between my knees as he slipp'd.
And just at the moment when the top of our wave was cleaving a small breach above us, he fell on the flat of his pike, with his nose buried in the gravel and his hands clutching. Looking up I saw a tall rebel straddling above him with musket clubb'd to beat his brains out: whom with an effort I caught by the boot; and, the bank slipping at that instant, down we all slid in a heap, a jumble of arms and legs, to the very bottom.
Before I had the sand well out of my eyes, my comrade was up and had his pike loose; and in a twinkling, the rebel was spitted through the middle and writhing. 'Twas sickening: but before I could pull out my pistol and end his pain (as I was minded), back came our front rank a-top of us again, and down they were driven like sheep, my companion catching up the dead man's musket and ammunition bag, and I followed down the slope with three stout rebels at my heels.
"What will be the end of _this?_" thought I.
The end was, that after forty yards or so, finding the foremost close upon me, I turn'd about and let fly with my pistol at him. He spun round twice and dropp'd: which I was wondering at (the pistol being but a poor weapon for aim) when I was caught by the arm and pull'd behind a clump of bushes handy by. 'Twas the man with the wen, and by his smoking musket I knew that 'twas he had fired the shot that killed my pursuer.
"Good turn for good turn," says he: "quick with thy other pistol!"
The other two had stopped doubtfully, but at the next discharge of my pistol they turn'd tail and went up the hill again, and we were left alone. And suddenly I grew aware that my head was aching fit to split, and lay down on the turf, very sick and ill.
My comrade took no notice of this, but, going for the dead man's musket, kept loading and firing, pausing now and then for his artillery to cool, and whistling a tune that runs in my head to this day. And all the time I heard shouts and cries and the noise of musketry all around, which made me judge that the attack was going on in many places at once. When I came to myself 'twas to hear a bugle below calling again to the charge, and once more came the two troops ascending. At their head was a slight built man, bare-headed, with the sun (that was by this, high over the hill) smiting on his brown curls, and the wind blowing them. He carried a naked sword in his hand, and waved his men forward as cheerfully as though 'twere a dance and he leading out his partner.
"Who is that yonder?" asked I, sitting up and pointing.
"Bless thy innocent heart!" said my comrade, "dostn't thee know? Tis Sir Bevill."
'Twould be tedious to tell the whole of this long fight, which, beginning soon after sunrise, ended not till four in the afternoon, or thereabouts: and indeed of the whole my recollection is but of continual advance and repulse on that same slope. And herein may be seen the wisdom of our generals, in attacking while the main body of the enemy's horse was away: for had the Earl of Stamford possessed a sufficient force of dragoons to let slip on us at the first discomfiture, there is little doubt he might have ended the battle there and then. As it was, the horse stood out of the fray, theirs upon the summit of the hill, ours (under Col. John Digby) on the other slope, to protect the town and act as reserve.
The foot, in four parties, was disposed about the hill on all sides; to the west--as we know--under Sir John Berkeley and Sir Bevill Grenville; to the south under General Hopton and Lord Mohun; to the east under the Colonels Tom Ba.s.set and William G.o.dolphin; while the steep side to the north was stormed by Sir Nicholas Slanning and Colonel G.o.dolphin, with their companies. And as we had but eight small pieces of cannon and were in numbers less than one to two, all we had to do was to march up the hill in face of their fire, catch a knock on the head, may be, grin, and come on again.
But at three o'clock, we, having been for the sixth time beaten back, were panting under cover of a hedge, and Sir John Berkeley, near by, was writing on a drumhead some message to the camp, when there comes a young man on horseback, his face smear'd with dirt and dust, and rides up to him and Sir Bevill. 'Twas (I have since learn'd) to say that the powder was all spent but a barrel or two: but this only the captains knew at the time.
"Very well, then," cries Sir Bevill, leaping up gaily. "Come along, boys--we must do it this time." And, the troop forming, once more the trumpets sounded the charge, and up we went. Away along the slope we heard the other trumpeters sounding in answer, and I believe 'twas a _sursum corda!_ to all of us.
Billy Pottery was ranged on my right, in the first rank, and next to me, on the other side, a giant, near seven foot high, who said his name was Anthony Payne and his business to act as body-servant to Sir Bevill. And he it was that struck up a mighty curious song in the Cornish tongue, which the rest took up with a will. Twas incredible how it put fire into them all: and Sir Bevill toss'd his hat into the air, and after him like schoolboys we pelted, straight for the ma.s.ses ahead.
For now over the rampart came a company of red musketeers, and two of russet-clad pikemen, charging down on us. A moment, and we were crushed back: another, and the chant rose again. We were grappling, hand to hand, in the midst of their files.
But, good lack! What use is swordsmans.h.i.+p in a charge like this? The first red coat that encounter'd me I had spitted through the lung, and, carried on by the rush, he twirled me round like a windmill. In an instant I was pa.s.s'd; the giant stepping before me and clearing a s.p.a.ce about him, using his pike as if 'twere a flail. With a wrench I tugg'd my sword out and followed. I saw Sir Bevill, a little to the left, beaten to his knee, and carried toward me. Stretching out a hand I pull'd him on his feet again, catching, as I did so, a crack on the skull that would have ended me, had not Billy Pottery put up his pike and broke the force of it. Next, I remember gripping another red coat by the beard and thrusting at him with shortened blade. Then the giant ahead lifted his pike high, and we fought to rally round it; and with that I seem'd caught off my feet and swept forward:--and we were on the crest.
Taking breath, I saw the enemy melting off the summit like a man's breath off a pane. And Sir Bevill caught my hand and pointed across to where, on the north side, a white standard embroider'd with gold griffins was mounting.
"'Tis dear Nick Slanning!" he cried; "G.o.d be prais'd--the day is ours for certain!"
CHAPTER XVII.
I MEET WITH A HAPPY ADVENTURE BY BURNING OF A GREEN LIGHT.
The rest of this signal victory (in which 1,700 prisoners were taken, besides the Major-General Chudleigh; and all the rebels' camp, cannon and victuals) I leave historians to tell. For very soon after the rout was a.s.sured (the plain below full of men screaming and running, and Col. John Digby's dragoons after them, chasing, cutting, and killing), a wet muzzle was thrust into my hand, and turning, I found Molly behind me, with the groom to whom I had given her in the morning. The rogue had counted on a crown for his readiness, and swore the mare was ready for anything, he having mix'd half a pint of strong ale with her mash, not half an hour before.
So I determin'd to see the end of it, and paying the fellow, climb'd into the saddle. On the summit the Cornish captains were now met, and cordially embracing. 'Tis very sad in these latter times to call back their shouts and boyish laughter, so soon to be quench'd on Lansdowne slopes, or by Bristol graff. Yet, O favor'd ones!--to chase Victory, to grasp her flutt'ring skirt, and so, with warm, panting cheeks, kissing her, to fall, escaping evil days!
How could they laugh? For me, the late pa.s.sionate struggle left me shaken with sobs; and for the starting tears I saw neither moors around, nor sun, nor twinkling sea. Brus.h.i.+ng them away, I was aware of Billy Pottery striding at my stirrup, and munching at a biscuit he had found in the rebels' camp. Said he, "In season, Jack, is in reason. There be times to sing an' to dance, to marry and to give in marriage; an' likewise times to become as wax: but now, lookin'
about an' seein' no haughty slaughterin' cannon but has a Cornishman seated 'pon the touch-hole of the same, says I in my thoughtsome way, 'Forbear!'"
Presently he pulls up before a rebel trooper, that was writhing on the slope with a shatter'd thigh, yet raised himself on his fists to gaze on us with wide, painful eyes.
"Good sirs," gasp'd out the rebel, "can you tell me--where be Nat s.h.i.+pward?"
"Now how should I know?" I answer'd.
"'A had nutty-brown curls, an' wore a red jacket--Oh, as straight a young man as ever pitched hay! 'a sarved in General Chudleigh's troop--a very singular straight young man."
"Death has taken a many such," said I, and thought on the man I had run through in our last charge.
The fellow groaned. "'A was my son," he said: and though Billy pull'd out a biscuit (his pockets bulged with them) and laid it beside him, he turn'd from it, and sank back on the turf again.
We left him, and now, the descent being gentler, broke into a run, in hopes to catch up with Col. John Digby's dragoons, that already were far across the next vale. The slope around us was piled with dead and dying, whereof four out of every five were rebels; and cruelly they cursed us as we pa.s.sed them by. Night was coming on apace; and here already we were in deep shadow, but could see the yellow sun on the hills beyond. We crossed a stream at the foot, and were climbing again. Behind us the cheering yet continued, though fainter: and fainter grew the cries and shouting in front. Soon we turn'd into a lane over a steep hedge, under the which two or three stout rebels were cowering. As we came tumbling almost atop of them, they ran yelling: and we let them go in peace.
The lane gradually led us to westward, out of the main line of the rout, and past a hamlet where every door was shut and all silent.
And at last a slice of the sea fronted us, between two steeply shelving hills. On the crest of the road, before it plunged down toward the coast, was a wagon lying against the hedge, with the horses gone: and beside it, stretch'd across the road, an old woman.
Stopping, we found her dead, with a sword-thrust through the left breast; and inside the wagon a young man lying, with his jaw bound up,--dead also. And how this sad spectacle happened here, so far from the battlefield, was more than we could guess.
I was moving away, when Billy, that was kneeling in the road, chanced to cast his eyes up toward the sea, and dropping the dead woman's hand scrambled on his feet and stood looking, with a puzzled face.
The Splendid Spur Part 32
You're reading novel The Splendid Spur Part 32 online at LightNovelFree.com. You can use the follow function to bookmark your favorite novel ( Only for registered users ). If you find any errors ( broken links, can't load photos, etc.. ), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible. And when you start a conversation or debate about a certain topic with other people, please do not offend them just because you don't like their opinions.
The Splendid Spur Part 32 summary
You're reading The Splendid Spur Part 32. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch already has 489 views.
It's great if you read and follow any novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest, hottest novel everyday and FREE.
LightNovelFree.com is a most smartest website for reading novel online, it can automatic resize images to fit your pc screen, even on your mobile. Experience now by using your smartphone and access to LightNovelFree.com
- Related chapter:
- The Splendid Spur Part 31
- The Splendid Spur Part 33