Harold : the Last of the Saxon Kings — Complete by Lytton (an ebook reader TXT) 📖

Their share of the bones. Thoro’ wind, thoro’ weather, We’re sailing together; I sail with the ravens; I watch with the ravens; I snatch from the ravens My share of the bones.”

There was also a man called Thord 241, in a ship that lay near the King’s; and he too dreamed a dream. He saw the fleet nearing land, and that land was England. And on the land was a battle-array two-fold, and many banners were flapping on both sides. And before the army of the landfolk was riding a huge witch-wife upon a wolf; the wolf had a man’s carcase in his mouth, and the blood was dripping and dropping from his jaws; and when the wolf had eaten up that carcase, the witch-wife threw another into his jaws; and so, one after another; and the wolf cranched and swallowed them all. And the witch-wife sang this song:

“The green waving fields Are hidden behind The flash of the shields, And the rush of the banners That toss in the wind. But Skade’s eagle eyes Pierce the wall of the steel, And behold from the skies What the earth would conceal; O’er the rush of the banners She poises her wing, And marks with a shadow The brow of the King. And, in bode of his doom, Jaw of Wolf, be the tomb Of the bones and the flesh, Gore-bedabbled and fresh, That cranch and that drip Under fang and from lip. As I ride in the van Of the feasters on man, With the King! Grim wolf, sate my maw, Full enow shall there be. Hairy jaw, hungry maw, Both for ye and for me! Meaner food be the feast Of the fowl and the beast; But the witch, for her share, Takes the best of the fare And the witch shall be fed With the king of the dead, When she rides in the van Of the slayers of man, With the King.”

And King Harold dreamed a dream. And he saw before him his brother, St. Olave. And the dead, to the Scald-King sang this song:

“Bold as thou in the fight, Blithe as thou in the hall, Shone the noon of my might, Ere the night of my fall! How humble is death, And how haughty is life; And how fleeting the breath Between slumber and strife! All the earth is too narrow, O life, for thy tread! Two strides o’er the barrow Can measure the dead. Yet mighty that space is Which seemeth so small; The realm of all races, With room for them all!”

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 shores of England. They landed at Cleveland 242, and at the dread of the terrible Norsemen, 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 Norsemen 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 pass ere Harold the King can come from the south to the north. The camp of the Norsemen was at Standford Bridge, and that day it was settled that they should formally enter York. Their ships lay in the river beyond; a large portion of the armament was with the ships. 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 shield.

“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 shine 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, shield to shield. 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