CHAPTER XVII.
HOW HEREWARD TOOK THE NEWS FROM STANFORD BRIGG AND HASTINGS.
After that, news came thick and fast.
News of all the fowl of heaven flocking to the feast of the great God,that they might eat the flesh of kings, and captains, and mighty men,and horses, and them that sit on them, and the flesh of all men, bothbond and free.
News from Rome, how England, when conquered, was to be held as a fief ofSt. Peter, and spiritually, as well as temporarily, enslaved. News howthe Gonfanon of St. Peter, and a ring with a bit of St. Peter himselfenclosed therein, had come to Rouen, to go before the Norman host, asthe Ark went before that of Israel.
Then news from the North. How Tosti had been to Sweyn, and bid him comeback and win the country again, as Canute his uncle had done; and howthe cautious Dane had answered that he was a much smaller man thanCanute, and had enough to hold his own against the Norsemen, and couldnot afford to throw for such high stakes as his mighty uncle.
Then how Tosti had been to Norway, to Harold Hardraade, and asked himwhy he had been fighting fifteen years for Denmark, when England layopen to him. And how Harold of Norway had agreed to come; and how hehad levied one half of the able-bodied men in Norway; and how he wasgathering a mighty fleet at Solundir, in the mouth of the Sogne Fiord.Of all this Hereward was well informed; for Tosti came back again toSt. Omer, and talked big. But Hereward and he had no dealings with eachother. But at last, when Tosti tried to entice some of Hereward's men tosail with him, Hereward sent him word that if he met him, he would killhim in the streets.
Then Tosti, who (though he wanted not for courage) knew that he wasno match for Hereward, went off to Bruges, leaving his wife and familybehind; gathered sixty ships at Ostend, went off to the Isle of Wight,and forced the landsfolk to give him money and food. And then Harold ofEngland's fleet, which was watching the coast against the Normans,drove him away; and he sailed off north, full of black rage against hisbrother Harold and all Englishmen, and burned, plundered, and murdered,along the coast of Lincolnshire, out of brute spite to the Danes who hadexpelled him.
Then came news how he had got into the Humber; how Earl Edwin and hisNorthumbrians had driven him out; and how he went off to Scotland tomeet Harold of Norway; and how he had put his hands between Harold's,and become his man.
And all the while the Norman camp at St. Pierre-sur-Dive grew and grew;and all was ready, if the wind would but change.
And so Hereward looked on, helpless, and saw these two greatstorm-clouds growing,--one from north, and one from south,--to burstupon his native land.
Two invasions at the same moment of time; and these no mere Viking raidsfor plunder, but deliberate attempts at conquest and colonization, bythe two most famous captains of the age. What if both succeeded? What ifthe two storm-clouds swept across England, each on its own path, and metin the midst, to hurl their lightnings into each other? A fightbetween William of Normandy and Harold of Norway, on some moorland inMercia,--it would be a battle of giants; a sight at which Odin andthe Gods of Valhalla would rise from their seats, and throw away themead-horn, to stare down on the deeds of heroes scarcely less mightythan themselves. Would that neither might win! Would that they woulddestroy and devour, till there was none left of Frenchmen or ofNorwegians!
So sang Hereward, after his heathen fashion; and his housecarlesapplauded the song. But Torfrida shuddered.
"And what will become of the poor English in the mean time?"
"They have brought it on themselves," said Hereward, bitterly. "Insteadof giving the crown to the man who should have had it,--to Sweyn ofDenmark,--they let Godwin put it on the head of a drivelling monk; andas they sowed, so will they reap."
But Hereward's own soul was black within him. To see these mighty eventspassing as it were within reach of his hand, and he unable to take hisshare in them,--for what share could he take? That of Tosti Godwinssonagainst his own nephews? That of Harold Godwinsson, the usurper? That ofthe tanner's grandson against any man? Ah that he had been in England!Ah that he had been where he might have been,--where he ought to havebeen but for his own folly,--high in power in his native land,--perhapsa great earl; perhaps commander of all the armies of the Danelagh. Andbitterly he cursed his youthful sins as he rode to and fro almost dailyto the port of Calais, asking for news, and getting often only too much.
For now came news that the Norsemen had landed in Humber: that Edwin andMorcar were beaten at York; that Hardraade and Tosti were masters of theNorth.
And with that, news that, by the virtue of the relics of St. Valeri,which had been brought out of their shrine to frighten the demons ofthe storm, and by the intercession of the blessed St. Michael, patronof Normandy, the winds had changed, and William's whole armament hadcrossed the Channel, landed upon an undefended shore, and fortifiedthemselves at Pevensey and Hastings.
And then followed a fortnight of silence and torturing suspense.
Hereward could hardly eat, drink, sleep, or speak. He answeredTorfrida's consolations curtly and angrily, till she betook herself tosilent caresses, as to a sick animal. But she loved him all the betterfor his sullenness; for it showed that his English heart was wakeningagain, sound and strong.
At last news came. He was down, as usual, at the port. A ship hadjust come in from the northward. A man just landed stood on the beachgesticulating, and calling in an unknown tongue to the bystanders, wholaughed at him, and seemed inclined to misuse him.
Hereward galloped down the beach.
"Out of the way, villains! Why man, you are a Norseman!"
"Norseman am I, Earl, Thord Gunlaugsson is my name, and news I bring forthe Countess Judith (as the French call her) that shall turn hergolden hair to snow,--yea, and all fair lasses' hair from Lindesness toLoffoden!"
"Is the Earl dead?"
"And Harold Sigurdsson!"
Hereward sat silent, appalled. For Tosti he cared not. But HaroldSigurdsson, Harold Hardraade, Harold the Viking, Harold the Varanger,Harold the Lionslayer, Harold of Constantinople, the bravest amongchampions, the wisest among kings, the cunningest among minstrels, thedarling of the Vikings of the North; the one man whom Hereward had takenfor his pattern and his ideal, the one man under whose banner he wouldhave been proud to fight--the earth seemed empty, if Harold Hardraadewere gone.
"Thord Gunlaugsson," cried he, at last, "or whatever be thy name, ifthou hast lied to me, I will draw thee with wild horses."
"Would God that I did lie! I saw him fall with an arrow through histhroat. Then Jarl Tosti took the Land-ravager and held it up till hedied. Then Eystein Orre took it, coming up hot from the ships. And thenhe died likewise. Then they all died. We would take no quarter. Wethrew off our mail, and fought baresark, till all were dead together."[Footnote: For the details of this battle, see Skorro Sturleson, or theadmirable description in Bulwer's "Harold."]
"How camest thou, then, hither?"
"Styrkar the marshal escaped in the night, and I with him, and a fewmore. And Styrkar bade me bring the news to Flanders, to the Countess,while he took it to Olaf Haroldsson, who lay off in the ships."
"And thou shalt take it. Martin! get this man a horse. A horse, yevillains, and a good one, on your lives!"
"And Tosti is dead?"
"Dead like a hero. Harold offered him quarter,--offered him his earldom,they say: even in the midst of battle; but he would not take it. He saidhe was the Sigurdsson's man now, and true man he would be!"
"Harold offered him?--what art babbling about? Who fought you?"
"Harold Godwinsson, the king."
"Where?"
"At Stanford Brigg, by York Town."
"Harold Godwinsson slew Harold Sigurdsson? After this wolves may eatlions!"
"The Godwinsson is a gallant fighter, and a wise general, or I had notbeen here now."
"Get on thy horse, man!" said he, scornfully and impatiently, "andgallop, if thou canst."
"I have ridden many a mile in Ireland, Earl, and have not forgotten myseat."
br /> "Thou hast, hast thou?" said Martin; "thou art Thord Gunlaugsson ofWaterford."
"That am I. How knowest thou me, man?"
"I am of Waterford. Thou hadst a slave lass once, I think; Mew: theycalled her Mew, her skin it was so white."
"What's that to thee?" asked Thord, turning on him savagely.
"Why, I meant no harm. I saw her at Waterford when I was a boy, andthought her a fair lass enough, that is all."
And Martin dropped into the rear. By this time they were at the gates ofSt. Omer.
As they rode side by side, Hereward got more details of the fight.
"I knew it would fall out so. I foretold it!" said Thord. "I had adream. I saw us come to English land, and fight; and I saw the bannersfloating. And before the English army was a great witchwife, and rodeupon a wolf, and he had a corpse in his bloody jaws. And when he hadeaten one up, she threw him another, till he had swallowed all."
"Did she throw him thine?" asked Martin, who ran holding by the stirrup.
"That did she, and eaten I saw myself. Yet here I am alive."
"Then thy dreams were naught."
"I do not know that. The wolf may have me yet."
"I fear thou art fey." [Footnote: Prophesying his own death.]
"What the devil is it to thee if I be?"
"Naught. But be comforted. I am a necromancer; and this I know by myart, that the weapon that will slay thee was never forged in Flandershere."
"There was another man had a dream," said Thord, turning from Martinangrily. "He was standing in the king's ship, and he saw a greatwitchwife with a fork and a trough stand on the island. And he saw afowl on every ship's stem, a raven, or else an eagle, and he heard thewitchwife sing an evil song."
By this time they were in St. Omer.
Hereward rode straight to the Countess Judith's house. He never hadentered it yet, and was likely to be attacked if he entered it now. Butwhen the door was opened, he thrust in with so earnest and sad a facethat the servants let him pass, but not without growling and motions asof getting their weapons.
"I come in peace, my men, I come in peace: this is no time for brawls.Where is the steward, or one of the Countess's ladies? Tell her, madam,that Hereward waits her commands, and entreats her, in the name of St.Mary and all Saints, to vouchsafe him one word in private."
The lady hurried into the bower. The next moment Judith hurried out intothe hall, her fair face blanched, her fair eyes wide with terror.
Hereward fell on his knee.
"What is this? It must be bad news if you bring it."
"Madam, the grave covers all feuds. Earl Tosti was a very valiant hero;and would to God that we had been friends!"
She did not hear the end of the sentence, but fell back with a shriekinto the women's arms.
Hereward told them all that they needed to know of that fratricidalstrife; and then to Thord Gunlaugsson,--
"Have you any token that this is true? Mind what I warned you, if youlied!"
"This have I, Earl and ladies," and he drew from his bosom a reliquary."Ulf the marshal took this off his neck, and bade me give it to none buthis lady. Therefore, with your pardon, Sir Earl, I did not tell you thatI had it, not knowing whether you were an honest man."
"Thou hast done well, and an honest man thou shall find me. Come home,and I will feed thee at my own table; for I have been a sea-rover and aViking myself."
They left the reliquary with the ladies, and went.
"See to this good man, Martin."
"That will I, as the apple of my eye."
And Hereward went into Torfrida's room.
"I have news, news!"
"So have I."
"Harold Hardraade is slain, and Tosti too!"
"Where? how?"
"Harold Godwinsson slew them by York."
"Brother has slain brother? O God that died on cross!" murmuredTorfrida, "when will men look to thee, and have mercy on their ownsouls? But, Hereward, I have news,--news more terrible by far. It camean hour ago. I have been dreading your coming back."
"Say on. If Harold Hardraade is dead, no worse can happen."
"But Harold Godwinsson is dead!"
"Dead! Who next? William of Normandy? The world seems coming to an end,as the monks say it will soon." [Footnote: There was a general rumorabroad that the end of the world was at hand, that the "one thousandyears" of prophecy had expired.]
"A great battle has been fought at a place they call Heathfield."
"Close by Hastings? Close to the landing-place? Harold must have flownthither back from York. What a captain the man is, after all."
"Was. He is dead, and all the Godwinssons, and England lost."
If Torfrida had feared the effect of her news, her heart was lightenedat once as Hereward answered haughtily,--
"England lost? Sussex is not England, nor Wessex either, any more thanHarold was king thereof. England lost? Let the tanner try to crossthe Watling street, and he will find out that he has another stamp ofEnglishmen to deal with."
"Hereward, Hereward, do not be unjust to the dead. Men say--the Normanssay--that they fought like heroes."
"I never doubted that; but it makes me mad--as it does all Easternand Northern men--to hear these Wessex churls and Godwinssons callingthemselves all England."
Torfrida shook her head. To her, as to most foreigners, Wessex and thesoutheast counties were England; the most civilized; the most Norman;the seat of royalty; having all the prestige of law, and order, andwealth. And she was shrewd enough to see, that as it was the part ofEngland which had most sympathy with Norman civilization, it was thevery part where the Norman could most easily gain and keep his hold.The event proved that Torfrida was right: but all she said was, "It isdangerously near to France, at least."
"It is that. I would sooner see 100,000 French north of the Humber,than 10,000 in Kent and Sussex, where he can hurry over supplies andmen every week. It is the starting-point for him, if he means to conquerEngland piecemeal."
"And he does."
"And he shall not!" and Hereward started up, and walked to and fro. "Ifall the Godwinssons be dead, there are Leofricssons left, I trust, andSiward's kin, and the Gospatricks in Northumbria. Ah? Where were mynephews in the battle? Not killed too, I trust?"
"They were not in the battle."
"Not with their new brother-in-law? Much he has gained by throwingaway the Swan-neck, like a base hound as he was, and marrying my prettyniece. But where were they?"
"No man knows clearly. They followed him down as far as London, andthen lingered about the city, meaning no man can tell what: but we shallhear--and I fear hear too much--before a week is over."
"Heavens! this is madness, indeed. This is the way to be eaten up one byone! Neither to do the thing, nor leave it alone. If I had been there!If I had been there--"
"You would have saved England, my hero!" and Torfrida believed her ownwords.
"I don't say that. Besides, I say that England is not lost. But therewere but two things to do: either to have sent to William at once, andoffered him the crown, if he would but guarantee the Danish laws andliberties to all north of the Watling street; and if he would, fall onthe Godwinssons themselves, by fair means or foul, and send their headsto William."
"Or what?"
"Or have marched down after him, with every man they could muster, andthrown themselves on the Frenchman's flank in the battle; or betweenhim and the sea, cutting him off from France; or--O that I had but beenthere, what things could I have done! And now these two wretched boyshave fooled away their only chance--"
"Some say that they hoped for the crown themselves.
"Which?--not both? Vain babies!" And Hereward laughed bitterly. "Isuppose one will murder the other next, in order to make himself thestronger by being the sole rival to the tanner. The midden cock, solerival to the eagle! Boy Waltheof will set up his claim next, I presume,as Siward's son; and then Gospatrick, as Ethelred Evil-Counsel'sgreat-grandson; and so forth, and so forth, till they
all eat each otherup, and the tanner's grandson eats the last. What care I? Tell me aboutthe battle, my lady, if you know aught. That is more to my way thantheir statecraft."
And Torfrida told him all she knew of the great fight on HeathfieldDown--which men call Senlac--and the Battle of Hastings. And as she toldit in her wild, eloquent fashion, Hereward's face reddened, and hiseyes kindled. And when she told of the last struggle round the Dragon[Footnote: I have dared to differ from the excellent authorities whosay that the standard was that of "A Fighting Man"; because the BayeuxTapestry represents the last struggle as in front of a Dragon standard,which must be--as is to be expected--the old standard of Wessex, thestandard of English Royalty. That Harold had also a "Fighting Man"standard, and that it was sent by William to the Pope, there is noreason to doubt. But if the Bayeux Tapestry be correct, the fury of thefight for the standard would be explained. It would be a fight for thevery symbol of King Edward's dynasty.] standard; of Harold's mightyfigure in the front of all, hewing with his great double-headed axe, andthen rolling in gore and agony, an arrow in his eye; of the last rallyof the men of Kent; of Gurth, the last defender of the standard, fallingby William's sword, the standard hurled to the ground, and the PopishGonfanon planted in its place,--then Hereward's eyes, for the first andlast time for many a year, were flushed with noble tears; and springingup he cried: "Honor to the Godwinssons! Honor to the Southern men!Honor to all true English hearts! Why was I not there to go with them toValhalla?"
Torfrida caught him round the neck. "Because you are here, my hero, tofree your country from her tyrants, and win yourself immortal fame."
"Fool that I am, I verily believe I am crying."
"Those tears," said she, as she kissed them away, "are more preciousto Torfrida than the spoils of a hundred fights, for they tell me thatHereward still loves his country, still honors virtue, even in a foe."
And thus Torfrida--whether from woman's sentiment of pity, or from awoman's instinctive abhorrence of villany and wrong,--had become thereand then an Englishwoman of the English, as she proved by strange deedsand sufferings for many a year.
"Where is that Norseman, Martin?" asked Hereward that night ere he wentto bed, "I want to hear more of poor Hardraade."
"You can't speak to him now, master. He is sound asleep this two hours;and warm enough, I will warrant."
"Where?"
"In the great green bed with blue curtains, just above the kitchen."
"What nonsense is this?"
"The bed where you and I shall lie some day; and the kitchen which weshall be sent down to, to turn our own spits, unless we mend our mannersmightily."
Hereward looked at the man. Madness glared in his eyes, unmistakably.
"You have killed him!"
"And buried him, cheating the priests."
"Villain!" cried Hereward, seizing him.
"Take your hands off my throat, master. He was only my father."
Hereward stood shocked and puzzled. After all, the man was"No-man's-man," and would not be missed; and Martin Lightfoot, lettingalone his madness, was as a third hand and foot to him all day long.
So all he said was, "I hope you have buried him well and safely?"
"You may walk your bloodhound over his grave, to-morrow, without findinghim."
And where he lay, Hereward never knew. But from that night Martin got atrick of stroking and patting his little axe, and talking to it as if ithad been alive.