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Read books online » Fiction » Olaf the Glorious: A Story of the Viking Age by Robert Leighton (rocket ebook reader .TXT) 📖

Book online «Olaf the Glorious: A Story of the Viking Age by Robert Leighton (rocket ebook reader .TXT) 📖». Author Robert Leighton



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Thoralfson was at his side, and the foster brothers spoke together concerning this land that they saw. They presently determined that it could be no other country than England. So they put about their skiff and returned to the fleet.

At noon on the following day the forty-two ships were within a few miles of the North Foreland of Kent. The cliffs stood out white as snow against the gray autumn sky, and where the line of the headland dipped the grassy slopes of a fertile valley could be seen dotted over with browsing sheep.

Olaf Triggvison steered his dragonship down the coast, until at length he saw a film of blue smoke that rose in the calm air above the little seaport of Sandwich. The town stood at the mouth of a wide creek whose banks sloped backward into sandy dunes and heather covered knolls. The river lost itself in a forest of beech trees that still held their trembling leaves that the summer sun had turned to a rich russet brown. Across one of the meadows a herd of cattle was being driven home to the safety of one of the farmsteads. Olaf turned his ship's head landward and blew a loud blast of his war horn. The shrill notes were echoed from the far off woods. His fleet closed in about his wake, and he led the way inward to the creek, rowing right up to the walls that encircled the town. A few arrows were fired. But already the folk had fled from their homes alarmed at the sight of so large a force, and the invaders landed without the shedding of a drop of blood.

When the ships had been safely moored in the harbour, with their masts lowered and their figureheads taken down, Olaf had his tents sent ashore, and he made an encampment along the margin of the river and in the shelter of the beech woods. His armourers built their forges and his horsemen their stables. A small temple was formed of heavy stones and dedicated to Odin; and so the northmen made ready their winter quarters and prepared to follow their daily lives in accordance with old time customs. There was pure water to be got in abundance from the higher parts of the river, while fish could be got near hand from out the sea. When corn and meat fell short, it was an easy matter to make a foraging raid upon some inland farm or monastery. At such times Olaf would send forth one of his captains, or himself set out, with a company of horsemen, and they would ride away through Kent, or even into Surrey, pillaging and harrying without hindrance, and returning to the camp after many days driving before them the cattle and swine that they had taken, each bullock and horse being loaded with bags of corn or meal.

These journeys were undertaken only for the sake of providing food for the vikings and not with the thought of conquest. And, indeed, Olaf would often give ample payment to the folk who were discreet enough to show him no resistance, for he had a great store of gold and richly wrought cloth upon his ships, and his heart was always generous. But at the monasteries and holy places he made no such return, for he vas a great enemy of Christianity.

All through that winter he remained unmolested, in peaceful possession of the two towns of Sandwich and Richborough.

Now the monks of Canterbury and Rochester were greatly annoyed by the near presence of the heathen pirates, and they sent messengers to their king, telling him that the Norsemen had made this settlement upon his coasts and imploring his protection. It was no great news to King Ethelred, however. The Danes and Norwegians had so often made descents upon the English shores that it seemed to him useless to oppose them; so he sent word back to the monks that if their monasteries and churches were in danger it would be well to build them stronger, but that, for his own part, he had quite enough to trouble him without raising armies to fight against a pack of wolves. As well, he said, fight against the sea birds that eat the worms upon our fields.

This calm indifference of the English king only gave greater boldness to Olaf Triggvison, who very naturally considered that the monarch who would thus allow an alien foe to settle upon his shores must be a very child in weakness--a man with no more spirit than a shrew mouse.

Not without cause was King Ethelred nicknamed The Unready. The name stands not as meaning that he was unprepared, but that he was without counsel, or "redeless". His advisers were few and, for the most part, traitorous and unworthy; they swayed him and directed him just as it suited their own ends, and he had not the manly strength of will that would enable him to act for himself. Of energy he had more than enough, but it was always misplaced. In personal character he was one of the weakest of all the kings of England, and his reign was the worst and most shameful in English history. In the golden days of his father, Edgar the Peaceable, all things had gone exceeding well in the land. There was a strong and well disciplined navy to protect the coasts, and all intending invaders were held in defiance. Edgar did much for the good order and prosperity of his kingdom, and he personally saw to the administration of justice and the forming of good laws; trade and husbandry were encouraged by him, and commerce with foreign lands was increased. Archbishop Dunstan was his friend and counsellor. After the death of Edgar came the short reign of Edward the Martyr, whose murder at Corfe Castle brought about the fall of Dunstan and the enthronement of Ethelred.

Ethelred was but ten years old on his coronation at Kingston. Little is told of the early years of his reign, and nothing to the young king's credit. Already the great fleet raised by Edgar had disappeared, and the vikings of the north had begun once more to pillage the coasts. There were other troubles, too. London was burnt to the ground, a great murrain of cattle happened for the first time in the English nation, and a terrible plague carried off many thousands of the people. For some unknown reason Ethelred laid siege to Rochester, and, failing to take the town, ravaged the lands of the bishopric. And now, with the coming of Olaf Triggvison, a new danger was threatening.

Olaf was the first of the vikings to attempt anything like a planned invasion on a large scale, and his partial success was the signal for a yet greater descent of the northmen, which had for its object the conquest of the whole kingdom. It was Olaf Triggvison who, if he failed in his own attempt, at least pointed out the way by which King Sweyn of Denmark and his greater son Canute at length gained possession of the throne of England and infused the nation with the blood which now flows in the veins of every true born Briton. The ocean loving vikings of the north were the ancestors of the English speaking people of today. Our love of the sea and of ships, the roving spirit that has led us to make great colonies in distant lands, our skill in battle, our love of manly sports, even perhaps our physical strength and endurance--all these traits have come to us from our forefathers of Scandinavia. Nor must it be forgotten that the Normans, who conquered England just five and seventy years after the landing of Olaf, were themselves the sons of the vikings. Rolf the Ganger was a famous warrior in the service of King Harald Fairhair. Exiled by Harald from Norway, he made a settlement in northern France, whither many of his countrymen followed him. That part of France was thereafter named Normannia, or Normandy--the land of the Norsemen. Rolf was there made a duke. His son William was the father of Richard the Fearless, who was the grandfather of the great William the Conqueror.

Now, when that same wintertide had passed, and when the new buds were showing on the trees, Olaf Triggvison arrayed his ships ready for the sea. Leaving some of his older men in occupation of Sandwich, he stood out northward past Thanet and across the mouth of the Thames towards East Anglia, where, as he understood, the bravest of the English people dwelt. His four best dragonships were commanded by himself, Kolbiorn, Guthmund, and Justin. His foster brother Thorgils had command of one of the longships. The fleet numbered forty sail, and each ship was manned by some two hundred warriors and seamen. When the men were landed to fight, one third of the company remained behind to guard the ships. Thus the forces that Olaf usually took ashore with him numbered between five and six thousand warriors.

The first place at which the vikings landed was at the mouth of a wide vik, leading far inland. A man named Harald Biornson was the first to leap ashore. Olaf named the place Harald's vik, but it is in these days spelled Harwich. Olaf followed the banks of the river for many miles, pillaging some steads, and carrying off much treasure from a certain monastery. The monks and friars fought well against him, but were soon defeated, and their houses and barns were left in flames. Farther inland the northmen went until they came to a made road, which crossed the river by a stone bridge. Olaf thought that this road must lead to some large town, so he took his forces over it northward into Suffolk, and at length he came within sight of Ipswich, and he resolved to attack the place. But he was not then prepared to enter battle, as many of his men had come ashore without their body armour and shields, deeming these too heavy to carry in sunny weather. So they returned to the ships and approached the town by way of the sea. They sailed up the Orwell river, and fell upon the town first with arrow and spear and then with sword and axe. The men of Ipswich met their foes in the middle of the town, and there was a great fight. But ere the sun went down Olaf had got the victory. He pillaged the houses and churches, and having emptied them of all that was worth taking he carried off the booty to his ships. He found that this was a good place to harbour his fleet in for a time, so he remained in Ipswich until the blossom had fallen from the trees.

CHAPTER XII: THE BATTLE OF MALDON.

Now this sacking of the town of Ipswich brought terror into the hearts of the men of East Anglia, who well knew how useless it would be for them to appeal for help to King Ethelred. There were brave men in that part of the country, however, who, at the first alarm of the landing of the Norsemen, made themselves ready to defend their homes and the homes of their neighbours. Chief among these was a certain holy and valiant man named Brihtnoth. He was at this time Earldorman of East Anglia. He had already done great work in spreading the Christian faith among the poor and ignorant people over whom he stood in authority, and his beneficent gifts to the monasteries of Ely and Ramsey had won for him the reputation almost of a saint. The monks regarded him as a man of quiet and thoughtful life, absorbed in acts of charity; but he proved that he could be a man of action also, for he was soon to become the hero of one of the most

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