What an undignified defeat that had been. It had begun well enough with the French on the point of forcing an entrance when they had been nearly decimated by William Marshal’s cross-bowmen, led by the Marshal himself, who in spite of his years, was in the thick of the fighting. There was about William Marshal that aura which comes to some men. The Conquerer had had it; so had Richard Coeur de Lion; men who were ranged against him lost their will for the battle because he was there. So many victories had been theirs that the notion had grown among the opposing armies that they were fighting against an irresistible force. When Marshal engaged the Count de la Perche – who was leading one section of the French – and the Count’s followers saw the fleur-de-lis fall from the hands of the standard bearer and the Count dislodged from his horse, mortally wounded, they were certain that there was some magical quality in this man Marshal which was invincible.
And from that time it seemed the battle was lost and that God had determined to discountenance the French for at the vital stage of the battle a cow had become wedged in a narrow lane with a small opening leading into one of the courtyards and could not be moved, so that the soldiers could not pass; thus the men were trapped and four hundred prisoners were taken, which was near the number of those who had assembled to defend the castle.
So the French were utterly defeated at Lincoln and there was great rejoicing among the English, for those who had wavered and asked themselves what could be hoped from a boy king, saw now that with men such as William Marshal behind him he might learn to govern well.
When he heard of the defeat at Lincoln, Louis was very melancholy. He could see the campaign ending in disaster for him if he did not act promptly. He knew he could trust Blanche. She had the blood of the Conquerer in her veins and she would not fail him.
Nor did she. Within a short time he had word from her. She had toured the country raising men and money for him and her enthusiasm, her energy and her determination to serve her husband brought about excellent results. In England great consternation spread through the army assembled to meet them and even the heart of Hubert de Burgh quailed when he realised the number of men and the amount of ammunition the French were bringing in their fleet.
He immediately sought out William Marshal to discuss with him what was to be done. William was with the Bishop of Winchester when Hubert arrived and he listened with dismay.
‘I need your help,’ said Hubert. ‘We must attack the fleet. If they make a landing we are lost.’
William Marshal pointed out that he was a soldier and the Bishop was a cleric, and he felt it would be unwise for them to take part in a venture of which they were entirely ignorant; but they implored Hubert to set out at once and do everything in his power to divert the French fleet. They were very worried men at that time; it would have been comforting had they known that Louis in London with inadequate forces was equally worried.
Everything depended on the successful landing of the fleet. Hubert knew this and that he had to match cunning strategy against the might of the French immediately. With all speed he rode to Dover and there assembled the ships of the Cinque Ports, not a large fleet by any means. He made sure of the defences of the castle and he chose the most stalwart guards to defend it. They must hold it with their lives, he told them. As for himself if he fell into the enemy’s hands and they tried to ransom him for the castle they must let him hang and hold the castle till not a man was left of them. ‘Depend upon it,’ he cried, ‘Dover Castle is the key to England. They may have London but while we hold Dover we command the sea.’
The French fleet was in the charge of Eustache the Monk, which in itself struck alarm in the hearts of loyal Englishmen; for Eustache was one of those seamen about whom a legend had grown. He had, in fact, taken orders in the monastery of Saint-Wulmar near Boulogne, but he had soon discovered that the monastic life was not for him and had left his monastery to take to the sea, which was much more suited to his nature; and the fact that he had been blessed with success allied with his earlier piety had meant that a legend had been built about him that he was a magician possessed of supernatural powers. Men flocked to serve under him because they believed that heaven had granted him some special dispensation from evil which would reflect on those about him. Here again John had shown his folly, for there had been a time when Eustache had worked for the King of England, but being unjustly treated by him he had retaliated by leaving him and offering his services to the King of France.
Some troubadour had made him the hero of a song which told of his brilliant and always victorious exploits and throughout England, Normandy and Aquitaine, and at the Court of France men sang the Roman d’Eustache le Moine.
And this man, who many believed could not fail, was chosen by Louis to bring the French fleet to England.
It was small wonder that Hubert was uneasy.
He talked to his men of the great Conquerer who would be looking down on them this day. They were descended from him and his Normans who had rightly come to England and succeeded. If they were brave and bold, if they were determined to succeed as he had always been, he would be with them this day. If they thought of him, took his example and prayed to God, they must succeed. They must remember that God would not be pleased with one who had deserted his monastery to become a pirate.
God was certainly with Hubert that day. Or it may have been that the Conqueror was really at hand to guide them to victory against the French. In any case it seemed that Hubert was endowed with a wisdom which outclassed the supernatural powers of Eustache. His fleet was small and that which Blanche of France had gathered together, great and powerful.
How Eustache must have exulted as he contemplated the task before him. So few English; so many French; the French ships were big and powerful; the English less so. Hubert had sixteen ships; the French had eighty; he had known he would be outnumbered but he had not thought it would be by so many.
Wily strategy was his only hope. The French fleet was, as expected, taking a straight course to Dover. Hubert commanded his captains to steer a slanting course, holding their luff, so giving an impression that Calais was their destination. It did not occur to Eustache that such a small force would attack, and he did not realise that this strategy enabled the English – well to windward while the French were running leeward – to attack the few ships at the rear and thus engage a smaller force than their own. By doing this Hubert was able to overcome the French in small sections, and Eustache, in the leading vessel, did not realise what was happening until it was too late.
Eustache was drowned, but his body was recovered from the sea, and his head was cut off that it might be shown to the people that the magician monk was a lesser man than Hubert de Burgh who had defeated him and destroyed the legend of his supernatural power for ever.
What rejoicing there was when Hubert landed at Dover, for news of his victory had already reached Dover and a great welcome awaited him.
Five bishops headed the procession which wound its way up to the castle – that very castle which not so long before Hubert was warning his trusted men should be held at all cost.
There was no longer need for anxiety. Louis was defeated. He had lost his ships and all they contained, and many of the spoils were now in English hands. Hubert was proud to hear that only fifteen had escaped and returned to France and as ten had been sunk that meant that over fifty had fallen to the English with all the treasure Blanche had gathered together for her husband’s army.