Part 25 (1/2)

But Harold Hardrada scorned witch-wife and dream; and his fleets sailed on. Tostig joined him off the Orkney Isles, and this great armament soon came in sight of the sh.o.r.es of England. They landed at Cleveland [242], and at the dread of the terrible Nors.e.m.e.n, the coastmen fled or submitted. With booty and plunder they sailed on to Scarborough, but there the townsfolk were brave, and the walls were strong.

The Nors.e.m.e.n ascended a hill above the town, lit a huge pile of wood, and tossed the burning piles down on the roofs. House after house caught the flame, and through the glare and the crash rushed the men of Hardrada. Great was the slaughter, and ample the plunder; and the town, awed and depeopled, submitted to flame and to sword.

Then the fleet sailed up the Humber and Ouse, and landed at Richall, not far from York; but Morcar, the Earl of Northumbria, came out with all his forces,--all the stout men and tall of the great race of the Anglo-Dane.

Then Hardrada advanced his flag, called Land-Eyda, the ”Ravager of the World,” [243] and, chaunting a war-stave,--led his men to the onslaught.

The battle was fierce, but short. The English troops were defeated, they fled into York; and the Ravager of the World was borne in triumph to the gates of the town. An exiled chief, however tyrannous and hateful, hath ever some friends among the desperate and lawless; and success ever finds allies among the weak and the craven,--so many Northumbrians now came to the side of Tostig. Dissension and mutiny broke out amidst the garrison within; Morcar, unable to control the townsfolk, was driven forth with those still true to their country and King, and York agreed to open its gates to the conquering invader.

At the news of this foe on the north side of the land, King Harold was compelled to withdraw all the forces at watch in the south against the tardy invasion of William. It was the middle of September; eight months had elapsed since the Norman had launched forth his vaunting threat. Would he now dare to come?--Come or not, that foe was afar, and this was in the heart of the country!

Now, York having thus capitulated, all the land round was humbled and awed; and Hardrada and Tostig were blithe and gay; and many days, thought they, must pa.s.s ere Harold the King can come from the south to the north. The camp of the Nors.e.m.e.n was at Standford Bridge, and that day it was settled that they should formally enter York. Their s.h.i.+ps lay in the river beyond; a large portion of the armament was with the s.h.i.+ps. The day was warm, and the men with Hardrada had laid aside their heavy mail and were ”making merry,” talking of the plunder of York, jeering at Saxon valour, and gloating over thoughts of the Saxon maids, whom Saxon men had failed to protect,--when suddenly between them and the town rose and rolled a great cloud of dust. High it rose, and fast it rolled, and from the heart of the cloud shone the spear and the s.h.i.+eld.

”What army comes yonder?” said Harold Hardrada.

”Surely,” answered Tostig, ”it comes from the town that we are to enter as conquerors, and can be but the friendly Northumbrians who have deserted Morcar for me.”

Nearer and nearer came the force, and the s.h.i.+ne of the arms was like the glancing of ice.

”Advance the World-Ravager!” cried Harold Hardrada, ”draw up, and to arms!”

Then, picking out three of his briskest youths, he despatched them to the force on the river with orders to come up quick to the aid. For already, through the cloud and amidst the spears, was seen the flag of the English King. On the previous night King Harold had entered York, unknown to the invaders--appeased the mutiny--cheered the townsfolks; and now came like a thunderbolt borne by the winds, to clear the air of England from the clouds of the North.

Both armaments drew up in haste, and Hardrada formed his array in the form of a circle,--the line long but not deep, the wings curving round till they met [244], s.h.i.+eld to s.h.i.+eld. Those who stood in the first rank set their spear shafts on the ground, the points level with the breast of a horseman; those in the second, with spears yet lower, level with the breast of a horse; thus forming a double palisade against the charge of cavalry. In the centre of this circle was placed the Ravager of the World, and round it a rampart of s.h.i.+elds. Behind that rampart was the accustomed post at the onset of battle for the King and his body-guard. But Tostig was in front, with his own Northumbrian lion banner, and his chosen men.

While this army was thus being formed, the English King was marshalling his force in the far more formidable tactics, which his military science had perfected from the warfare of the Danes. That form of battalion, invincible hitherto under his leaders.h.i.+p, was in the manner of a wedge or triangle. So that, in attack, the men marched on the foe presenting the smallest possible surface to the missives, and in defence, all three lines faced the a.s.sailants. King Harold cast his eye over the closing lines, and then, turning to Gurth, who rode by his side, said: ”Take one man from yon hostile army, and with what joy should we charge on the Northmen!”

”I conceive thee,” answered Gurth, mournfully, ”and the same thought of that one man makes my arm feel palsied.”

The King mused, and drew down the nasal bar of his helmet.

”Thegns,” said he suddenly, to the score of riders who grouped round him, ”follow.” And shaking the rein of his horse, King Harold rode straight to that part of the hostile front from which rose, above the spears, the Northumbrian banner of Tostig. Wondering, but mute, the twenty thegns followed him. Before the grim array, and hard by Tostig's banner, the King checked his steed and cried: ”Is Tostig, the son of G.o.dwin and Githa, by the flag of the Northumbrian earldom?”

With his helmet raised, and his Norwegian mantle flowing over his mail, Earl Tostig rode forth at that voice, and came up to the speaker. [245]

”What wouldst thou with me, daring foe?”

The Saxon horseman paused, and his deep voice trembled tenderly, as he answered slowly: ”Thy brother, King Harold, sends to salute thee. Let not the sons from the same womb wage unnatural war in the soil of their fathers.”

”What will Harold the King give to his brother?” answered Tostig, ”Northumbria already he hath bestowed on the son of his house's foe.”

The Saxon hesitated, and a rider by his side took up the word.

”If the Northumbrians will receive thee again, Northumbria shalt thou have, and the King will bestow his late earldom of Wess.e.x on Morcar; if the Northumbrians reject thee, thou shalt have all the lords.h.i.+ps which King Harold hath promised to Gurth.”

”This is well,” answered Tostig; and he seemed to pause as in doubt;-- when, made aware of this parley, King Harold Hardrada, on his coal- black steed, with his helm all s.h.i.+ning with gold, rode from the lines, and came into hearing.

”Ha!” said Tostig, then turning round, as the giant form of the Norse King threw its vast shadow over the ground.

”And if I take the offer, what will Harold son of G.o.dwin give to my friend and ally Hardrada of Norway?”

The Saxon rider reared his head at these words, and gazed on the large front of Hardrada, as he answered, loud and distinct: ”Seven feet of land for a grave, or, seeing that he is taller than other men, as much more as his corse may demand!”

”Then go back, and tell Harold my brother to get ready for battle; for never shall the Scalds and the warriors of Norway say that Tostig lured their king in his cause, to betray him to his foe. Here did he come, and here came I, to win as the brave win, or die as the brave die!”

A rider of younger and slighter form than the rest, here whispered the Saxon King: ”Delay no more, or thy men's hearts will fear treason.”

”The tie is rent from my heart, O Haco,” answered the King, ”and the heart flies back to our England.”

He waved his hand, turned his steed, and rode off. The eye of Hardrada followed the horseman.

”And who,” he asked calmly, ”is that man who spoke so well?” [246]

”King Harold!” answered Tostig, briefly.

”How!” cried the Norseman, reddening, ”how was not that made known to me before? Never should he have gone back,--never told hereafter the doom of this day!”

With all his ferocity, his envy, his grudge to Harold, and his treason to England, some rude notions of honour still lay confused in the breast of the Saxon; and he answered stoutly: ”Imprudent was Harold's coming, and great his danger; but he came to offer me peace and dominion. Had I betrayed him, I had not been his foe, but his murderer!”

The Norse King smiled approvingly, and, turning to his chiefs, said drily: ”That man was shorter than some of us, but he rode firm in his stirrups.”

And then this extraordinary person, who united in himself all the types of an age that vanished for ever in his grave, and who is the more interesting, as in him we see the race from which the Norman sprang, began, in the rich full voice that pealed deep as an organ, to chaunt his impromptu war-song. He halted in the midst, and with great composure said: ”That verse is but ill-tuned: I must try a better.” [247]

He pa.s.sed his hand over his brow, mused an instant, and then, with his fair face all illumined, he burst forth as inspired.

This time, air, rhythm, words, all so chimed in with his own enthusiasm and that of his men, that the effect was inexpressible. It was, indeed, like the charm of those runes which are said to have maddened the Berserker with the frenzy of war.

Meanwhile the Saxon phalanx came on, slow and firm, and in a few minutes the battle began. It commenced first with the charge of the English cavalry (never numerous), led by Leofwine and Haco, but the double palisade of the Norman spears formed an impa.s.sable barrier; and the hors.e.m.e.n, recoiling from the frieze, rode round the iron circle without other damage than the spear and javelin could effect. Meanwhile, King Harold, who had dismounted, marched, as was his wont, with the body of footmen. He kept his post in the hollow of the triangular wedge; whence he could best issue his orders. Avoiding the side over which Tostig presided, he halted his array in full centre of the enemy, where the Ravager of the World, streaming high above the inner rampart of s.h.i.+elds, showed the presence of the giant Hardrada.

The air was now literally darkened with the flights of arrows and spears; and in a war of missives, the Saxons were less skilled than the Nors.e.m.e.n. Still King Harold restrained the ardour of his men, who, sore hara.s.sed by the darts, yearned to close on the foe. He himself, standing on a little eminence, more exposed than his meanest soldier, deliberately eyed the sallies of the horse, and watched the moment he foresaw, when, encouraged by his own suspense and the feeble attacks of the cavalry, the Nors.e.m.e.n would lift their spears from the ground, and advance themselves to the a.s.sault. That moment came; unable to withhold their own fiery zeal, stimulated by the tromp and the clash, and the war hymns of their King, and his choral Scalds, the Nors.e.m.e.n broke ground and came on.

”To your axes, and charge!” cried Harold; and pa.s.sing at once from the centre to the front, he led on the array. The impetus of that artful phalanx was tremendous; it pierced through the ring of the Norwegians; it clove into the rampart of s.h.i.+elds; and King Harold's battle-axe was the first that s.h.i.+vered that wall of steel; his step the first that strode into the innermost circle that guarded the Ravager of the World.

Then forth, from under the shade of that great flag, came, himself also on foot, Harold Hardrada: shouting and chaunting, he leapt with long strides into the thick of the onslaught. He had flung away his s.h.i.+eld, and swaying with both hands his enormous sword, he hewed down man after man till s.p.a.ce grew clear before him; and the English, recoiling in awe before an image of height and strength that seemed superhuman, left but one form standing firm, and in front, to oppose his way.

At that moment the whole strife seemed not to belong to an age comparatively modern, it took a character of remotest eld; and Thor and Odin seemed to have returned to the earth. Behind this towering and t.i.tan warrior, their wild hair streaming long under their helms, came his Scalds, all singing their hymns, drunk with the madness of battle. And the Ravager of the World tossed and flapped as it followed, so that the vast raven depicted on its folds seemed horrid with life. And calm and alone, his eye watchful, his axe lifted, his foot ready for rush or for spring--but firm as an oak against flight-- stood the Last of the Saxon Kings.

Down bounded Hardrada, and down sh.o.r.e his sword; King Harold's s.h.i.+eld was cloven in two, and the force of the blow brought himself to his knee. But, as swift as the flash of that sword, he sprang to his feet; and while Hardrada still bowed his head, not recovered from the force of his blow, the axe of the Saxon came so full on his helmet, that the giant reeled, dropped his sword, and staggered back; his Scalds and his chiefs rushed around him. That gallant stand of King Harold saved his English from flight; and now, as they saw him almost lost in the throng, yet still cleaving his way--on, on--to the raven standard, they rallied with one heart, and shouting forth, ”Out, out! Holy Crosse!” forced their way to his side, and the fight now waged hot and equal, hand to hand. Meanwhile Hardrada, borne a little apart, and relieved from his dinted helmet, recovered the shock of the weightiest blow that had ever dimmed his eye and numbed his hand. Tossing the helmet on the ground, his bright locks glittering like sun-beams, he rushed back to the melee. Again helm and mail went down before him; again through the crowd he saw the arm that had smitten him; again he sprang forwards to finish the war with a blow,--when a shaft from some distant bow pierced the throat which the casque now left bare; a sound like the wail of a death-song murmured brokenly from his lips, which then gushed out with blood, and tossing up his arms wildly, he fell to the ground, a corpse. At that sight, a yell of such terror, and woe, and wrath all commingled, broke from the Nors.e.m.e.n, that it hushed the very war for the moment!

”On!” cried the Saxon King; ”let our earth take its spoiler! On to the standard, and the day is our own!”