Hereward, the Last of the English Part 49

"Somewhat," said the lad, sitting up, "under the care of this kind knight."

"He is a monk, Sir Atheling, and not a knight," said Hereward. "Our fenmen can wear a mail-shirt as easily as a frock, and handle a twybill as neatly as a breviary."

Waltheof shook his head. "It is contrary to the canons of Holy Church."

"So are many things that are done in England just now. Need has no master.

Now, Sir Earl and Sir Atheling, what are you going to do?"

Neither of them, it seemed, very well knew. They would go to York if they could get there, and join Gospatrick and Marlesweyn. And certainly it was the most reasonable thing to be done.

"But if you mean to get to York, you must march after another fashion than this," said Hereward. "See, Sir Earl, why you were broken by Gilbert; and why you will be broken again, if this order holds. If you march your men along one of these old Roman streets--By St. Mary! these Romans had more wits than we; for we have spoilt the roads they left us, and never made a new one of our own--"

"They were heathens and enchanters,"--and Waltheof crossed himself.

"And conquered the world. Well,--if you march along one of these streets, you must ride as I rode, when I came up to you. You must not let your knights go first, and your men-at-arms straggle after in a tail a mile long, like a scratch pack of hounds, all sizes but except each others'.

You must keep your footmen on the high street, and make your knights ride in two bodies, right and left, upon the wold, to protect their flanks and baggage."

"But the knights won't. As gentlemen, they have a right to the best ground."

"Then they may go to--whither they will go, if the French come upon them.

If they are on the flanks, and you are attacked then they can charge in right and left on the enemy's flank, while the footmen make a stand to cover the wagons."

"Yes,--that is very good; I believe that is your French fashion?"

"It is the fashion of common-sense, like all things which succeed."

"But, you see, the knights would not submit to ride in the mire."

"Then you must make them. What else have they horses for, while honester men than they trudge on foot?"

"Make them?" said Waltheof, with a shrug and a smile. "They are all free gentlemen, like ourselves."

"And, like ourselves, will come to utter ruin, because every one of them must needs go his own way."

"I am glad," said Waltheof, as they rode along, "that you called this my earldom. I hold it to be mine of course, in right of my father; but the landsfolks, you know, gave it to your nephew Morcar."

"I care not to whom it is given. I care for the man who is on it, to raise these landsfolk and make them fight. You are here: therefore you are earl."

"Yes, the powers that be are ordained by G.o.d."

"You must not strain that text too far, Lord Earl; for the only power that is, whom I see in England--worse luck for it!--is William the Mamzer."

"So I have often thought."

"You have? As I feared!" (To himself:) "The pike will have you next, gudgeon!"

"He has with him the Holy Father at Rome, and therefore the blessed Apostle St. Peter of course. And is a man right, in the sight of Heaven, who resists them? I only say it. But where a man looks to the salvation of his own soul, he must needs think thereof seriously, at least."

"O, are you at that?" thought Hereward. "_Tout est perdu_. The question is, Earl," said he aloud, "simply this: How many men can you raise off this shire?"

"I have raised--not so many as I could wish. Harold and Edith's men have joined me fairly well; but your nephew, Morcar's--"

"I can command them. I have half of them here already."

"Then,--then we may raise the rest?"

"That depends, my Lord Earl, for whom we fight!"

"For whom?--I do not understand."

"Whether we fight for that lad, Child Edgar, or for Sweyn of Denmark, the rightful king of England."

"Sweyn of Denmark! Who should be the rightful king but the heir of the blessed St. Edward?"

"Blessed old fool! He has done harm to us enough on earth, without leaving his second-cousins' aunts' malkins to harm us after he is in Heaven."

"Sir Hereward, Sir Hereward, I fear thou art not as good a Christian as so good a knight should be."

"Christian or not, I am as good a one as my neighbors. I am Leofric's son.

Leofric put Harthacanute on the throne, and your father, who was a man, helped him. You know what has befallen England since we Danes left the Danish stock at G.o.dwin's bidding, and put our necks under the yoke of Wess.e.x monks and monk-mongers. You may follow your father's track or not, as you like. I shall follow my father's, and fight for Sweyn Ulfsson, and no man else."

"And I," said Waltheof, "shall follow the anointed of the Lord."

"The anointed of Gospatrick and two or three boys!" said Hereward.

"Knights! Turn your horses' heads. Right about face, all! We are going back to the Bruneswold, to live and die free Danes."

And to Waltheof's astonishment, who had never before seen discipline, the knights wheeled round; the men-at-arms followed them; and Waltheof and the Atheling were left to themselves on Lincoln Heath.

CHAPTER XXIV.

HOW ARCHBISHOP ALDRED DIED OF SORROW.

In the tragedies of the next few months Hereward took no part; but they must be looked at near, in order to understand somewhat of the men who were afterwards mixed up with him for weal or woe.

When William went back to the South, the confederates, Child Edgar the Atheling, Gospatrick, and their friends, had come south again from Durham.

It was undignified; a confession of weakness. If a Norman had likened them to mice coming out when the cat went away, none could blame him. But so they did; and Osbiorn and his Danes, landing in Humber-mouth, "were met"

(says the Anglo-Saxon chronicle) "by Child Edgar and Earl Waltheof and Marlesweyn, and Earl Gospatrick with the men of Northumberland, riding and marching joyfully with an immense army"; not having the spirit of prophecy, or foreseeing those things which were coming on the earth.

To them repaired Edwin and Morcar, the two young Earls, Arkill and Karl, "the great Thanes," or at least the four sons of Karl,--for accounts differ,--and what few else of the northern n.o.bility Tosti had left unmurdered.

The men of Northumberland received the Danes with open arms. They would besiege York. They would storm the new Norman Keep. They would proclaim Edgar king at York.

In that Keep sat two men, one of whom knew his own mind, the other did not. One was William Malet, knight, one of the heroes of Hastings, a n.o.ble Norman, and chatelain of York Castle. The other was Archbishop Aldred.