I could give you some description that would spoil your dinner
and night's rest, and make your hair stand on end. But why harrow your
feelings? Fancy all the tortures and horrors that possibly can occur in
a beleaguered and famished castle: fancy the feelings of men who know
that no more quarter will be given them than they would get if they
were peaceful Hungarian citizens kidnapped and brought to trial by his
Majesty the Emperor of Austria; and then let us rush on to the breach
and prepare once more to meet the assault of dreadful King Richard and
his men.
On the 29th of March in the year 1199, the good King, having copiously
partaken of breakfast, caused his trumpets to blow, and advanced with
his host upon the breach of the castle of Chalus. Arthur de Pendennis
bore his banner; Wilfrid of Ivanhoe fought on the King's right hand.
Molyneux, Bishop of Bullocksmithy, doffed crosier and mitre for that
day, and though fat and pursy, panted up the breach with the most
resolute spirit, roaring out war-cries and curses, and wielding a
prodigious mace of iron, with which he did good execution. Roger de
Backbite was forced to come in attendance upon the sovereign, but took
care to keep in the rear of his august master, and to shelter behind his
huge triangular shield as much as possible.
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