that indomitable
chivalry, the flower of the ancient Norman heroism. As idly beat the
waves upon a rock as the ranks of Edward upon that serried front of
steel. The sun still shone in heaven, and still Edward's conquest was
unassured. Nay, if Marmaduke could yet bring back the troops of Somerset
upon the rear of the foe, Montagu and the earl felt that the victory
might be for them. And often the earl paused, to hearken for the cry of
"Somerset" on the gale, and often Montagu raised his visor to look for
the banners and the spears of the Lancastrian duke. And ever, as the
earl listened and Montagu scanned the field, larger and larger seemed to
spread the armament of Edward. The regiment which boasted the stubborn
energy of Alwyn was now in movement, and, encouraged by the young
Saxon's hardihood, the Londoners marched on, unawed by the massacre
of their predecessors. But Alwyn, avoiding the quarter defended by the
knights, defiled a little towards the left, where his quick eye, inured
to the northern fogs, had detected the weakness of the barricade in the
spot where Hilyard was stationed; and this pass Alwyn (discarding the
bow) resolved to attempt at the point of the pike, the weapon answering
to our modern bayonet. The first rush which he headed was so impetuous
as to effect an entry. The weight of the numbers behind urged on the
foremost, and Hilyard had not sufficient space for the sweep of the
two-handed sword which had done good work that day. While here the
conflict became fierce and doubtful, the right wing led by D'Eyncourt
had pierced the wood, and, surprised to discover no ambush, fell upon
the archers in the rear. The scene was now inexpressibly terrific; cries
and groans, and the ineffable roar and yell of human passion, resounded
demonlike through the shade of the leafless trees. And at this moment,
the provident and rapid generalship of Edward had moved up one of his
heavy bombards. Warwick and Montagu and most of the knights were called
from the barricades to aid the archers thus assailed behind; but an
instant before that defence was shattered into air by the explosion
of the bombard. In another minute horse and foot rushed through the
opening. And amidst all the din was heard the voice of Edward, "Strike,
and spare not; we win the day!" "We win the day! victory! victory!"
repeated the troops behind. Rank caught the sound from rank, and file
from file; it reached the captive Henry, and he paused in prayer