The Last of the Vikings

by John Bowling

  CHAPTER XI.

  OSWALD'S DEFENCE OF HIS CASTLE.

  "Cry 'Havock!' and let slip the dogs of war."--Shakespeare.

  In the meantime, the Normans had made diligent preparation for anassault on the castle. Now the castle could not be described as a veryformidable stronghold, or one designed to withstand a regular siege. Ithad been built mainly to resist the incursions of the Scots, whoperiodically raided in force into these parts, their purpose beingplunder and cattle-lifting. They overran the country quickly, gettingthem back as speedily as possible, before the Saxons had time toconcentrate, so that no very great powers of resistance were needed torepel them, or weary them. Occasionally also the Danes carried fire andsword to our parts; but since the conquest of Northumbria and the northof England generally, by Halfdane, and the settlement of so many of hisfollowers in the land, we had not been afflicted much with theirincursions in this part of the kingdom, during my lifetime. Thus, thestrength of the castle being sufficient for our hereditary foes, itstill was not such as would be likely to long resist the experienced andnumerous foes now pitched before it. The castle itself stood on aneminence; was built of good solid masonry, with a battlemented towerrising from its centre, but without any special design. It wasstrengthened by a wall which ran completely round, forming a spaciousenclosure, in which cattle could be speedily and safely housed in casesof emergency. This wall was lofty and fairly proportioned, but its greatlength made it difficult to man by the handful of Saxon defenders. It iswell also to note that, as in the case of nearly all the strongholds ofthe land, it was provided with a secret passage, known only to thetrusted followers of Oswald--a passage which could be entered by theinitiated at a certain place in the circular stair which led to theturret. This underground passage had an emerging place, carefullyconcealed in a dense wood some distance away.

  In a very few days the Normans had prepared themselves with scalingladders, and had cut long poles from the forest for the purpose ofpushing the defenders from the wall. Mantelets were prepared of boardsfastened together, behind which the attacking parties could advance onthe defenders, without exposing themselves to the arrows and javelinswhich would be hurled at them. The leaders also had pavises, or largeshields, which covered the person from head to foot. The time had nowcome when the assault might be made, it was believed, with impunity, sothe Norman forces were put into battle array, a small number only beingappointed to the task of protecting the women and the camp.

  It was a fine sight to see these disciplined men as they moved to theattack in orderly array. Everything bore evidence to the fact that theplan of attack, and the marshalling and disposition of the forces, wasthe work of a competent general, one who was well versed in the art ofwar.

  The Norman bowmen were thrown out in companies on either flank, for theprotection of the forces who were to conduct the assault, and also forthe purpose of distracting and harassing the defenders as they strove torepel the attack of the besiegers.

  It needed little military knowledge to see that the issue could not bedoubtful. The meagre band of Saxons, stretched in thin line over theextent of wall, could never hold it against the multitude who swarmed tothe attack. Oswald alone, of all the Saxons, was fully equipped for theresistance of the clouds of barbed arrows about to be poured amongstthem. His second in command, Wulfhere, was partly clad in a light coatof mail; but, for the most part, leathern jerkins were the onlyprotection they had. Had it been an attack in the open, in which theforces were equal, these rough Saxons would have given a good account ofthemselves. Any one of them could have been depended upon to bring downa stag at a hundred paces. Whilst, if it had been a hand-to-handstruggle with their broadswords, or their pikes, they would have foughtwith the ferocity of tigers. But here they were outnumbered by ten toone, and so circumstanced that they could not hurl themselves upon theiradversaries, and by sheer bravery strike terror into their ranks. Theymust wait to be attacked, and for every arrow they shot, and for everyjavelin they flung, there would be half a dozen returned.

  Vigneau, Reynard, Jules Reynard and other leaders, were grouped togetherwith De Montfort, who gave orders for successive movements of thebesiegers, as though, with the prevision which comes of a carefullymatured plan, he could see every act of the stirring drama about to beenacted.

  Now the order for assault is given. The attacking party, with theirmantelets mounted on rude wheels, steadily advance across the plain, thearchers disposing themselves to the right and left in advance of themain body, giving the attacking forces the form of a crescent. Thearchers, dodging adroitly beneath the trees, were able to get near thewall, thus threatening to put the defenders between a cross fire. TheSaxons, with bow in hand and pike at their feet, but without a shout orthe wasting of a single arrow, stood grimly awaiting the onset. TheNorman archers commenced the attack by letting fly a volley of arrows,but at too great a distance to be effective. Some of them fell short,and the others were easily dodged by the Saxons, who, as yet, had nopressing call upon their attention. But now the attacking party drawnear, and, as they do so, they become more exposed. At a signal fromOswald a stinging volley of arrows from the Saxons come hissing amongstthem with galling effect. At this the pace of the besiegers isquickened, and their archers are quickly within distance to do deadlyexecution with their arrows.

  The Saxons, too, find it necessary to let go their bows, and grasp theirjavelins and spears to deal with foes in close contact, who by this timehave begun to scale the wall. The foremost Normans were met with amerciless slaughter, and it is probable that never a Norman that daywould have kept a foothold on the wall had it not been for the supportof their archers. These, being now at close quarters, pour their arrowsin pitiless showers into the ranks of the defenders, and many a stoutSaxon falls with dozens of these barbed messengers of death in his body.Where the attack is hottest, the Saxons reel and stagger, a foothold onthe wall is gained, and the Normans are swarming upon it. Oswaldimmediately dashes to the spot and his battle-axe descends in thunderstrokes. Right and left the Normans are beaten down before him; and,with a shout, the Saxons signal the wall clear again.

  But the respite is brief, for quickly Oswald's attention is directedelsewhere by the loud shouts of the Normans. He turns a hurried glancethitherward, only to see that the Normans there have gained a footholdon the wall, and are rapidly overbearing his handful of men, thoughWulfhere manfully stems the tide, and deals out to the Normans many adeadly blow. In a moment, Oswald also is on the spot to the rescue, andonce more the tide of victory smiles upon the Saxon cause. Again it isonly for a brief span, for like an oncoming and resistless tide theNormans surge upon the wall, and beat back the slender ranks of theSaxons. One advantage, however, the Saxons now reap; the combatants areso mingled in one deadly hand-to-hand struggle, that the Norman archersdare not let fly their shafts, and can only stand, and, with batedbreath, watch the sanguinary struggle.

  In the distance yonder, and at the entrance to the tent, there standAlice and her maid Jeannette, who shudderingly watch the carnageproceed. Oswald and Wulfhere are now fighting back to back, with shieldon arm, and having exchanged their axes for their broadswords. Togetherthey cleave down the ranks of the enemy, until like sheep they quailbefore these stalwart Saxons.

  "What matchless valour this pair of Saxon chieftains display, Jeannette!If ever heroism and valour deserved to win a battle, surely this is thetime!"

  "How frightened our men-at-arms seem to be!" said Jeannette. "Do you seehow frantically the Baron raves there at the foot of the wall, andshouts at the men? He boasts him of his valour. Why does he not mountthe wall and face this Saxon?"

  "What human lives are being sacrificed! 'Tis most dreadful! May God sendus peace quickly!" murmured Alice, shading her eyes at the spectaclebefore her. "These are our people, Jeannette, but I must confess mysympathies are with the Saxons. This leader, too, defends his home withthe courage of a hero. God grant he may not fall into the hands of ourmen alive, or he will be tortured with fiendish bru
tality for this day'swork!"

  The struggle still proceeds with gathering intensity and fierceness.Baron Vigneau, indeed, as Jeannette had described him, does rave andgesticulate frantically. "Down with him! Now, men, rush on him two orthree together! Close with him! Push him from the wall! Hurl somethingat him!" But nevertheless he makes no effort to mount the wall himself.

  De Montfort also stands there nervously directing the attack. "Here,man," said he, to a stalwart soldier by his side, "heave up this longpole and aim a blow at the Saxon." The man heaves up the pole, and, witha run and a powerful blow, he struck Oswald on the head. The blowcompletely staggers the Saxon; for a moment or two he hovers on the edgeof the wall endeavouring to recover his balance; but, alas! it is all invain, and he drops, with his heavy harness on, down into the castle yarda dozen feet or more.

  At this untoward event the Saxons, in a perfect panic, rush for thedrawbridge thrown across to the wall from one of the barbicans, andintended as a means of retreat by Oswald in the last resort. But theNormans have intercepted them and cut them off from this, and thecustodians, seeing that this would be seized by the Normans, immediatelywithdraw it. Then the Saxons wildly leap from the wall, and for dearlife's sake, rush like hunted hares, for the neighbouring thicket.

  For a little while attention is distracted from the fallen chieftain bythe efforts of the Normans to cut off these flying Saxons. But downthere in the castle yard lies Oswald, stunned, bleeding, and insensible;helpless to fight or to fly. Wulfhere witnesses the helpless conditionof his leader, and down he leaps and lifts him up and detaches hisvisor. As he does so, a deep sob escapes from the parted lips of Oswald;but there is no further sign of life or returning consciousness.

  Whilst this has been transpiring, the attention of the Normans has beendistracted from the leaders by the necessity to clear the walls of thefew Saxons who, disdaining to seek safety in flight, die fighting mostdeterminedly at their posts. Now, however, the Normans turn theirattention to the two Saxon leaders entrapped within the castle yard.Immediately they send up a yell of fiendish delight, as they behold thealmost frantic efforts of Wulfhere to arouse his unconscious master, andrestore him to his senses.

  But 'twas in vain. Oswald's head had been rudely jammed by the steelhelmet in the shock of falling; and it was soon apparent to Wulfherethat the brief respite was now exhausted, without bringing any signs ofreturning consciousness. He threw his left arm around the waist of hishelpless chieftain, and drew him, harness and all, upon his hip, and,grasping his broadsword in his right hand, he made with all the speed hecould command for the door of the castle, hoping by this manoeuvre togain time.

  But the stalwart and muscular form of Oswald, encumbered as it was byheavy armour, made progress painfully slow. In the meantime, the Normansreversed their scaling ladders and slid down into the quadrangle, andcame trooping after the fugitives. Wulfhere saw his task was hopeless,and with a cry of pain like a wounded deer he dropped his helplessburthen on the greensward, and, furious as some wild beast, sprang atthe yelling foe, cutting down the foremost at a blow. Following up theothers, who quailed before him, he quickly laid half a dozen corpses ina ghastly circle round his master. But there was no end to the stream offurious assailants who were fast surrounding him. "'Tis in vain!" hepitifully exclaimed. "Oh, had I here but a score of stout men to make arampart of steel, we would defy the yelling crew! God forgive me forthis coward's act, my master! I would gladly die with you, but I know Ishall better do your will by reserving my worthless life for service toyour followers."

  So saying, he bounded over the prostrate form of Oswald, and across thesward, mounting the half-dozen steps at the terrace entrance at aspring, and dashing through the open door.

  The Normans followed him in concert; but when it became a question ofsingle file to pass the portal, without knowing whether Wulfhere waslurking within, why then they in "honour preferred one another," withthe result that they one and all ceased following Wulfhere, andcourageously returned to help their fellows to heap indignities upon theprostrate Earl.

  Meanwhile, the gates had been burst open and the Norman soldiers, campfollowers and all, had pressed into the enclosure, Alice and Jeannette,with the women, bringing up the rear.

  "Whatever are they clambering and yelling so about, Jeannette? Is it thedead chieftain?"

  "I think so, my lady. They are like wolves worrying their prey."

  "It is a pity so brave a man should perish. If he be not dead I willbeseech my father for his life; though I am afraid it will be to littlepurpose."

  "See, my lady, he is not dead; he is standing up."

  Oswald had recovered consciousness, and, stripped of his helmet, lookedaround, though deathly pale and half-dazed.

  "Do not kill him, men!" roared Vigneau. "We'll have some sportto-morrow, and then you may cut his throat if he survives."

  "Do you hear what that beast in human form is saying, Jeannette?"

  "It is horrible, my lady. Let us go away; I am quite sickened."

  "Stay a minute, Jeannette. Let us have a good look at him. How pale heis! But look at his noble countenance--handsome and expressive as ahero's should be! Such countenances have men only who live temperatelyand think purely. Contrast, Jeannette, the blotched and blearedcountenance of Vigneau. There is a tell-tale and an index at once to thebeastly life and foul imagination. How my heart revolts at the sight ofhim! I would prefer the touch of a vampire."

  Meanwhile, Wulfhere threaded his way by a path familiar to him, until hereached the foot of the circular stair which led to the turret,ascending which, and watching through a loophole, he heard the commandto spare Oswald's life until the morrow.

  "Thank Heaven! Whilst there is life there is hope. If a desperate effortto rescue him will succeed, I count upon a few daring spirits to ventureit."

  But the tramp of heavy feet resounding through the corridors warned himto delay no longer. Turning his face towards a farther ascent, he ranhis hand along the wall in the darkness until the feel of a certainstone arrested his attention, applying his strength to which, it slowlyrevolved, disclosing an aperture into which a man might drop.

  Into this aperture Wulfhere disappeared; and the stone revolved to itsplace again.