| Men of Iron|
|by Howard Pyle|
|The thrilling story, set in England in the time of Henry IV, of how Myles Falworth advances to knighthood and through 'trial by battle' restores the fallen fortunes of his family. With breathless excitement, the reader follows the adventures of the hero, sympathizing with him in his troubles, fighting in his battles, and rejoicing in his good fortunes. Numerous illustrations by the author add to the attractiveness of the volume. Ages 10-14 |
TRIAL BY BATTLE
 IN THE days of King Edward III a code of laws relating to trial by battle had been compiled for one of his sons,
Thomas of Woodstock. In this work each and every detail, to the most minute, had been arranged and fixed, and
from that time judicial combats had been regulated in accordance with its mandates.
It was in obedience to this code that Myles Falworth appeared at the east gate of the lists (the east gate
being assigned by law to the challenger), clad in full armor of proof, attended by Gascoyne, and accompanied
by two of the young knights who had acted as his escort from Scotland Yard.
At the barriers he was met by the attorney Willingwood, the chief lawyer who had conducted
 the Falworth case before the High Court of Chivalry, and who was to attend him during the administration of
the oaths before the King.
As Myles presented himself at the gate he was met by the Constable, the Marshal, and their immediate
attendants. The Constable, laying his hand upon the bridle-rein, said, in a loud voice: "Stand, Sir Knight,
and tell me why thou art come thus armed to the gates of the lists. What is thy name? Wherefore art thou
Myles answered, "I am Myles Falworth, a Knight of the Bath by grace of his Majesty King Henry IV and by his
creation, and do come hither to defend my challenge upon the body of William Bushy Brookhurst, Earl of Alban,
proclaiming him an unknightly knight and a false and perjured liar, in that he hath accused Gilbert Reginald,
Lord Falworth, of treason against our beloved Lord, his Majesty the King, and may God defend the right!"
As he ended speaking, the Constable advanced close to his side, and formally raising the umbril of the helmet,
looked him in the face. Thereupon, having approved his identity, he ordered the gates to be opened, and bade
Myles enter the lists with his squire and his friends.
At the south side of the lists a raised scaffolding had been built for the King and those who looked
 on. It was not unlike that which had been erected at Devlen Castle when Myles had first jousted as belted
knight—here were the same raised seat for the King, the tapestries, the hangings, the fluttering
pennons, and the royal standard floating above; only here were no fair-faced ladies looking down upon him, but
instead, stern-browed Lords and knights in armor and squires, and here were no merry laughing and buzz of talk
and flutter of fans and kerchiefs, but all was very quiet and serious.
Myles riding upon his horse, with Gascoyne holding the bridle-rein, and his attorney walking beside him with
his hand upon the stirrups, followed the Constable across the lists to an open space in front of the seat
where the King sat. Then, having reached his appointed station, he stopped, and the Constable, advancing to
the foot of the stair-way that led to the dais above, announced in a loud voice that the challenger had
entered the lists.
"Then called the defendant straightway," said the King, "for noon draweth nigh."
The day was very warm, and the sun, bright and unclouded, shone fiercely down upon the open lists. Perhaps few
men nowadays could bear the scorching heat of iron plates such as Myles wore,
 from which the body was only protected by a leathern jacket and hose. But men's bodies in those days were
tougher and more seasoned to hardships of weather than they are in these our times. Myles thought no more of
the burning iron plates that incased him than a modern soldier thinks of his dress uniform in warm weather.
Nevertheless, he raised the umbril of his helmet to cool his face as he waited the coming of his opponent. He
turned his eyes upward to the row of seats on the scaffolding above, and even in the restless, bewildering
multitude of strange faces turned towards him recognized those that he knew: the Prince of Wales, his
companions of the Scotland Yard household, the Duke of Clarence, the Bishop of Winchester, and some of the
noblemen of the Earl of Mackworth's party, who had been buzzing about the Prince for the past month or so. But
his glance swept over all these, rather perceiving than seeing them, and then rested upon a square box-like
compartment not unlike a prisoner's dock in the courtroom of our day, for in the box sat his father, with the
Earl of Mackworth upon one side and Sir James Lee upon the other. The blind man's face was very pale, but
still wore its usual expression of calm serenity—the calm serenity of a blind face. The Earl was also
very pale, and he kept his eyes fixed steadfastly upon
 Myles with a keen and searching look, as though to pierce to the very bottom of the young man's heart, and
discover if indeed not one little fragment of dryrot of fear or uncertainty tainted the solid courage of his
Then he heard the criers calling the defendant at the four corners of the list: "Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! William
Bushy Brookhurst, Earl of Alban, come to this combat, in which you be enterprised this day to discharge your
sureties before the King, the Constable, and the Marshal, and to encounter in your defence Myles Falworth,
knight, the accepted champion upon behalf of Gilbert Reginald Falworth, the challenger! Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! Let
the defendant come!"
So they continued calling, until, by the sudden turning of all faces, Myles knew that his enemy was at hand.
Then presently he saw the Earl and his attendants enter the outer gate at the west end of the barrier; he saw
the Constable and Marshal meet him; he saw the formal words of greeting pass; he saw the Constable raise the
umbril of the helmet. Then the gate opened, and the Earl of Alban entered, clad cap-a-pie in a
full suit of magnificent Milan armor without juppon or adornment of any kind. As he approached across the
lists, Myles closed the umbril of his helmet, and
 then sat quite still and motionless, for the time was come.
So he sat, erect and motionless as a statue of iron, half hearing the reading of the long intricately-worded
bills, absorbed in many thoughts of past and present things. At last the reading ended, and then he calmly and
composedly obeyed, under the direction of his attorney, the several forms and ceremonies that followed;
answered the various official questions, took the various oaths. Then Gascoyne, leading the horse by the
bridle-rein, conducted him back to his station at the east end of the lists.
As the faithful friend and squire made one last and searching examination of arms and armor, the Marshal and
the clerk came to the young champion and administered the final oath by which he swore that he carried no
The weapons allowed by the High Court were then measured and attested. They consisted of the long sword, the
short sword, the dagger, the mace, and a weapon known as the hand-gisarm, or glave-lot—a heavy swordlike
blade eight palms long, a palm in breadth, and riveted to a stout handle of wood three feet long.
The usual lance had not been included in the list of arms, the hand-gisarm being substituted in its place. It
was a fearful and murderous weapon,
 though cumbersome, Unhandy, and ill adapted for quick or dexterous stroke; nevertheless, the Earl of Alban had
petitioned the King to have it included in the list, and in answer to the King's expressed desire the Court
had adopted it in the stead of the lance, yielding thus much to the royal wishes. Nor was it a small
concession. The hand-gisarm had been a weapon very much in vogue in King Richard's day, and was now nearly if
not entirely out of fashion with the younger generation of warriors. The Earl of Alban was, of course, well
used to the blade; with Myles it was strange and new, either for attack or in defence.
With the administration of the final oath and the examination of the weapons, the preliminary ceremonies came
to an end, and presently Myles heard the criers calling to clear the lists. As those around him moved to
withdraw, the young knight drew off his mailed gauntlet, and gave Gascoyne's hand one last final clasp,
strong, earnest, and intense with the close friendship of young manhood, and poor Gascoyne looked up at him
with a face ghastly white.
Then all were gone; the gates of the principal list and that of the false list were closed clashing, and Myles
was alone, face to face, with his mortal enemy.
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