The Last of the Vikings Part 3

Scarcely had Oswald time to make this careful disposition of his men ere the vanguard of the Normans were upon them. But a shower of arrows from the Saxons at close quarters thoroughly disconcerted them. So fiercely were they met, and by a force whose numbers they had no means of gauging, that they deemed it prudent to retire beyond bowshot until the remainder of the forces advanced to their support. Then came a more determined a.s.sault on the Saxons' position. But, from behind trees and shrubs, the concealed defenders drave their short spears through each a.s.sailant, or clave them with their short Saxon swords or battle-axes.

Oswald and others, who were clad in armour, boldly fronted them in every gap, making great havoc in the ranks of the men-at-arms, or singling out the Norman leaders and engaging them.

In the midst of the fray, one noteworthy incident occurred. Oswald, to his amazement, saw the burly Norman, Vigneau, who had come with professions of help, now fighting fiercely against them. Immediately his blood was fired, and pressing steadily towards him, eventually they met face to face.

"Ah, treacherous villain!" said Oswald. "This is your friendship for our cause, is it? I have a particular message for tricksters and sneaking traitors like you."

"Come on, varlet of a Saxon, and don't stand prating like some gowky wench, and I'll quickly give thee thy quietus," said Vigneau savagely.

Instantly there ensued a most desperate encounter between these two powerful combatants. Each of them, however, wore a suit of armour, and carried a shield, and each one was most skilful in the use of his weapons, so that, desperate and determined as they both were, no conclusive blow resulted. But whilst the duel progressed, the general body of the Normans made steady progress, in spite of the valour of the Saxons, and speedily Oswald was quite surrounded, though totally oblivious of the fact. One stalwart Saxon, however, who had fought by Oswald's side--by name Wulfhere--saw the imminent danger in which his leader was placed, and he rushed to his rescue, quickly cleaving his way through; and seizing Oswald, he exclaimed,--

"Master, you will be cut off if you don't keep in fighting line with us!"

This fierce reminder awoke Oswald to the peril of his position, and he said to his antagonist, "Another time, villain, will come, when I hope we may effectually finish this quarrel."

"Sooner and better, churl; but for the present your better plan is to run away," retorted Vigneau.

In the meantime, although the Saxons had extended their lines to the utmost limits which the sparsity of their men would permit, the Normans surged round and completely overlapped them. So Beowulf was compelled to initiate the movement ordered by Oswald, and the left wing was gradually doubled back until it also converged on the river; and thus the line of battle was in the form of a semicircle. The Saxons fought with desperation, disputing every inch of the ground, and strewing the ground, yard by yard, with the Norman slain. The masterly skill with which their ground had been chosen and their defence planned, gave them great advantage, and enabled them to maintain the unequal contest for nearly an hour. But ultimately the quivers of the archers were emptied of every shaft, and the battle could no longer be maintained with advantage, but would probably end in complete ma.s.sacre. So Oswald selected a spot where the river was fordable; then, he and a hundred stalwart Saxons stood shoulder to shoulder, keeping the enemy at bay whilst the rank and file crossed the stream. Then, gradually narrowing their own circle until every one had taken the river, the last half-dozen, with their faces to the foe, fought their way across.

When they had reached the opposite side, the order was given for dispersal, and the gallant band melted away, and severally, or in bands, sought their distant homes. Thus ended in total failure, through cowardice and treachery, what at one time seemed, in its very marked success, a conspiracy that would ultimately wrest the kingdom from the usurper.

CHAPTER V.

DESPERATE RESOLVES.

"Cowards die many times before their death The valiant never taste of death but once."

Shakespeare.

"The Saxon cause is lost, Wulfhere, by base-hearted cowardice and treachery," said Oswald, turning to the stalwart "freeman" already introduced to the reader. "Look to the rear, though I think the Normans have had such a taste of our quality that there will be no pursuit for the present; but henceforth we may look to it, for there will be--unless I greatly misjudge the Norman king--a bitter revenge exacted from us, and untempered in the least degree by mercy. We have our broadswords left to us, and we have proved this day that they have a keen edge and bite as sharp as ever. We have a few bowmen, also, who can shoot straight; but for our shelter I fear me we shall have but the dense forest, and the rugged hills of our native Craven for our defence. But they are a defence familiar to us, and no battering-ram or a.s.sault of besiegers will avail our foe. Let them drive the wolf to bay if they dare, and they shall find he has sharp teeth. Well, to me, Wulfhere, a life of valorous freedom is better than servile slavery and degraded serfdom."

"I join you there, my lord. A ceorl born, a ceorl for ever. That is my charter. I will maintain it to the death," said Wulfhere.

The conclusions of Oswald, with regard to the revenge which the Normans would exact, proved only too true. Like a conflagration, the sanguinary, mercenary host spread themselves over the northern part of the kingdom, and desolation and death spread their ghastly wings over the land.

William's aim evidently was to decimate the population, and thus make any further revolt utterly impossible.

I forbear, however, to enter into the details of the wholesale slaughter which followed after the Saxons were put to the rout at York, in mercy to the reader.

So, at the word of command, the followers of Oswald moved away from the fatal field, with celerity, but in perfect order. The close of the second day brought them home again. Bitterly sad our hearts were at the tidings they brought us, and at sight of the thinned ranks of stout and hardy yeomen who went out from us on this last desperate venture. The Earl addressed the following words to them, as we stood together in the monastery grounds: "My trusty followers, my faithful friends,--We have probably not more than forty-eight hours before we shall be face to face again with the hated Norman foe--on our own lands, and at the thresholds of our own homes. Do not let us, because of this short respite, close our eyes to what will inevitably follow. Neither age nor s.e.x will be spared, though we should crawl at their feet, and grovel in the dust.

The only thing these Normans will respect is the broadsword, as it flashes at their breast, or the arrow, glancing unerringly through the branches of the trees in the forest fastnesses. I advise you to take to the hills; the caves will form in some respects a shelter for your wives and little ones. Carry your cattle along with you to the hills and mountain gorges. Your corn, your cooking utensils--in short, everything of value and of service--take along with you. There are men here from every corner of our domain. Tell your neighbours, and make haste; even the minutes are precious. I shall contrive, if I live, to protect you for the present, and until my castle is taken you will be absolutely safe."

As the men moved slowly away to their homes in the distant hamlets, bearers of the sorrowful news, the Earl turned to Wulfhere.

"Well, Wulfhere, my resolve is taken. I shall not cower before, or servilely beg for freedom at the hands of the proudest Norman of them all. Further, I shall not fly over sea, and sell my sword to a foreign potentate. Yonder, in the distance, I can descry the turrets of my castle. I was born there, and I shall defend it to the last; and when driven from it, it will still be a joy to sit on the hillsides and gaze upon the old home. There are likewise these followers of mine, who have followed me everywhere and blindly done my bidding. It were dastardly conduct to give them over now to sanguinary ma.s.sacre. When, as a boy, with falcon on my arm and hound at my heel, I hied me o'er these lands, my faithful yeomen welcomed me everywhere, and their good wives brought out their daintiest morsel and their sweetest mead. We shall stand or fall together. Who knows? The Saxon star may some day be in the ascendant again, and we may push the Normans from our sh.o.r.es. What sayest thou, Wulfhere?"

"Your purpose, my lord, if I understand you aright, is to defend the castle so long as you can, and then try to hold the Normans at bay by means of the shelter which the woods and the hills afford."

"That is my present purpose. I can scarcely hope to hold the castle, except for a little while, but I may thus materially check the desolating march of the Normans. But ultimately I look to the woods and the hills for permanent safety. We are more fortunate than our countrymen in other parts of the kingdom. If we look to the north we see the stately Hanging-brow mountain, lifting itself to the sky and girdled with the clouds, and those dense woods, which, like a vast army clambering up its sides, will fight for us in our onslaught, and shield us in our flight. The waters also shed on its brow by the clouds which nestle well-nigh perpetually on its shoulders, and go leaping down its sides with the fierceness of a cataract, have ploughed into the mountain's seamy sides gorges impa.s.sable to untrained feet. Look, to the east a few miles we have the scarcely less remarkable Weirdburn hills.

To the south, Baldby heights. Think also of the dense woods which everywhere abound in this Craven of ours. Then, like myself, you will see that in no other part of the land has Nature so combined to shelter the friendless and protect the oppressed. Further, we are quite two hundred and fifty miles from London. Though the Normans will come very surely to despoil the land, William will speedily draw off his forces, and we shall have but to cope with the Norman who usurps my lands and castle, holding it probably with a slender garrison. For the present we are unequal to the task of contending in open warfare with our foe. We will contend with him with the most effective weapons we possess; and these are cunning and evasion. There shall be no solid front presented to him at which he can aim an effective blow. But when the Normans have overrun the land, and the bulk of them gone hence, then we will present a bolder front, and a.s.sert our right to share the land, and cultivate the soil."

"What do you purpose in this dire emergency, reverend Father?" said he, turning to me. "Have you any purpose of defending the Abbey?"

"No, my lord," said I; "we are the disciples of the Prince of Peace, and we must follow His example. And indeed, carnal weapons would not protect us if we were minded to use them, and this sacred edifice would suffer irreparably by our resistance. Perhaps these untamed and b.l.o.o.d.y men may have some regard for the sanct.i.ty of these walls. We will throw open our gates to receive them. Those of our servants and followers who prefer to trust to the woods and the hills, as you advise, are free to do so.

Those who prefer to stay--together with any unhappy fugitives who have fled hither for shelter--will join the monks in prayers and supplications, in the sanctuary. Perhaps G.o.d will give us favour in the eyes of our enemies."

"Give us your blessing, Father," said Oswald, falling on his knees and meekly uncovering his head, all his followers humbly following his example.

"Adieu, my son," said I, laying my hand upon his head. "May the G.o.d of our fathers nerve thy arm for the protection of thy humbler fellows, and give thee wisdom and discretion in this terrible day of thy country's visitation!"

With tearful eyes I watched the receding form of this n.o.ble Saxon. No carnal offspring could be dearer to an earthly parent than he to me. I had watched over him from infancy, educated him, travelled with him in many foreign lands; and I hoped he would be a great leader in statesmanship, in learning, and in all the arts of peace. Now, alas! I fear circ.u.mstance will make him a man of war, and a stern leader of b.l.o.o.d.y and desperate men.

CHAPTER VI.

BARON VIGNEAU.

"All is lost save honour."

Early on the morrow, strange rumours and stories, which made the blood curdle, were brought to the monastery by refugees from far and near.

Both gentle and simple fled hither, being buoyed up by the widespread, but in this case delusive notion, that sanctuary walls would be sacredly respected. Amongst the number was the lovely daughter of the worthy Thane Beowulf, who, along with his son, had been slain in resisting the advance of the Normans. My heart sank within me as I looked upon her great beauty, realising with painful vividness how helpless and impotent I was to protect her--well knowing that l.u.s.t and rapine, let loose, would not be awed or restrained even by the sanct.i.ty of the Church.

I had commanded the monks, with all refugees, to repair to the chapel for prayer, whilst I at the first summons repaired to the gate with some of the housecarles and lay brothers, and commanded the gates to be thrown open, when in poured a motley crowd of soldiers and men-at-arms, evidently bent on plunder, and totally uncontrolled by any sort of discipline. The crowd surged by me and carried me along, deriding my entreaties to be heard. One leader, in complete armour, and whom I afterwards ascertained to be Baron Vigneau, I appealed to in vain. He rudely pushed me aside with an oath, bidding me say my prayers to the devil, for he would soon have me and my monkish crew.

One party made a dash for the northern extremity of the enclosure, where were the outbuildings, in which our cattle, sheep and goats, and numerous attendants were housed. These servants, however, made their exit, with all speed, from the northern gate, as they saw the Normans enter at the south. One, Badger as he was called by his companions, who was keeper of the hounds and hawks--a mighty hunter, who kept our larder well stocked with venison, and fish, and game of every kind--held his ground. A sly rogue was Badger--so called from his propensity for hunting these animals and clothing himself in their skins. For hunting, hawking, and fishing, he was a prodigy. He was well-nigh fleet as a hare, and could swim like an otter; and had wherewithal so sly a humour, and such shrewdness, that he was a great favourite with me, and I had taken pains to add such instruction as I thought would be serviceable to him. The reader will pardon me this digression. But this Badger was such an active agent in the subsequent troublous times, and served the Saxon cause so well, both by his matchless cunning and his rare valour, that I have taken the trouble to introduce the reader to him at such great length. A most grotesque figure he presented on this fateful morning, clothed as he was from head to foot in skins.

"Hilloa!" roared one trooper to another, as they set eyes upon him.

"What the deuce kind of an animal is this?"

"The foul fiend, or one of his imps, by Moses!" rejoined the other.

"Who are you, Satan?" said the first one, riding up to him and giving him a hearty thwack across the shoulders with the flat of his sword; at which Badger set up a most hypocritical howl. "Stash that, will you, you lump of hog's-flesh, or I'll make pork of you in a twinkling! Where are your cronies? Have you buried them, you old grave-digger?"

"Oh, hang him, Jaques!" chimed in the other impatiently. "Don't bother with the s...o...b..ring clown! But I've a notion it is a dry shop in this quarter; you had better get back again to the jolly friars, if you would have venison pasties and old ale. But I'm going to have a look round, and see if they have left a hack or two better than mine. They haven't left a worse, I'm blowed! I don't believe he is a horse. He's only a shadow and a half; the wind was just going to carry him off when I took him: so I committed no robbery when I stole him. I vow it's only my weight which keeps him in this world at all. Gee up, old marrow-bones!

Your old backbone will do to shave the monks with. I wonder I'm not split up the middle by this. I verily believe my trunk is shorter by a good six inches than my legs, and I've only been perched on your old razor-rig these three days. Heigh-up! Jaques," continued he, suddenly wheeling round, "if you find a tap of good old ale before I get back, hold on to it till I come! I'm as thirsty as a sponge that hasn't had a soaking for twenty years. I could suck up half a hogshead easily. My soul is oozing away through the pores in my body, and all for lack of moisture."

Meanwhile, the monks, together with numerous refugees, chiefly women, were gathered in the church, vainly trusting to the sanct.i.ty of the place for protection. I had no faith in this, however, and had taken the precaution to have our most valuable and costly treasures of silver and gold and books conveyed to the sacristy, a barrel-vaulted apartment near the south transept, led down to by a flight of stone steps, which were cunningly covered over by the flagging of the floor. This had been designed expressly for the hiding of our valuables when a raid was antic.i.p.ated by the Scots or Danes.

Many of the Normans, I noticed, made at once for the church. No doubt they fancied the richest booty would there be found. They rudely burst open the doors, and I pressed in with them. At once the fierce and undisciplined soldiery commenced to break and plunder everything. I advanced towards the leader, Vigneau, and prostrated myself before him to beg for mercy for the refugees. Alas! He furiously spurned me with his heavy boot, and cried to his men, "Ho, men! here are a lot of scurvy monks! Kill the rats in their hole!" Prompt to obey, the soldiers let fly a volley of arrows amongst the helpless throng huddled about the altar steps, and wounded many of them. Unhappily, Vigneau at that moment espied the lovely Ethel crouching amongst them. "Stay, men!" he shouted.

"By Jupiter, here's the loveliest Saxon wench my eyes have seen. You may take the gold and silver baubles and melt them into zechins. Here's my share of the plunder!" Immediately he seized Ethel and dragged her from the steps of the high altar. "Nay, nay, wench," said he, "never be so shy! Thou wert intended for better company than simpering monks and friars. d.a.m.nation!" he roared, suddenly releasing her, staggering back a pace or two and staring aghast at her; for she had sprung at him and driven with all her force at his chest a small dagger she held in her hand. The dagger rattled upon his mailed chest, but left him scathless.

Still she stood confronting him, like a panther at bay.

"By Jove!" he roared, as soon as he had recovered from his astonishment.