Ned, the son of Webb: What he did.

by William Osborn Stoddard

  CHAPTER XIII.

  THE HOST OF THE NORMANS.

  "London! London! London!" exclaimed Ned, the son of Webb, slowly andthoughtfully. "After all I had heard and read about this place, Ihadn't the ghost of an idea of what it would really be. I went throughall the London guide-books, too, that Uncle Jack brought home with him.I guess it changed a good deal before they were printed."

  He had other remarks to make, and some of them were uncomplimentary.It appeared that he had been going through all quarters of the Englishcapital city, ever since he rode into it with the house-carles of theking. He knew something of its history, old British, Roman, Saxon, andhe could add to that wonderful ideas of what it would be in the yearsto come. He had taken careful notes of its larger buildings, its walls,and fortifications.

  "I think that Duke William was wise," he remarked, "in not coming hereuntil he was entirely ready. It's a strong place. He could not havetaken it right away. King Harold knew it could stand a siege or hewould not have gone to fight the Vikings."

  Nevertheless, until the return of their king and his army, the peopleof London had been in a panic of fear lest their town should be takenand sacked by the invaders.

  "Now," said Ned, at last, "I have seen enough of these dirty streets.They are as bad as those of York, or worse. I'll go and get my horseand see if Father Brian has come."

  His learned Irish friend had been full of affairs of his own ever sincetheir arrival. He too, moreover, had been exploring London, and he hadformed a very low opinion of its civilisation. Ned found him waiting,shortly, in the queer old hostelry which had been assigned them by thearmy authorities as their quarters.

  "My boy!" exclaimed Father Brian. "I am glad to see thee. Oh, theheathen town that this is! It is full of thieves. It is exceedinglydisorderly and dirty. I may say that the army being here doth not makeit any better. Ah, me! I shall be glad when the battle is over and weknow which of the twain is to be king of this place. Whichever it maybe, he hath a long, hard bit of work before him to make this countrywhat it ought to be."

  There could be no doubt of that, but Ned, the son of Webb, was not justnow much interested in questions of reform and education. His head wasfull of army affairs, and Father Brian was his best newspaper.

  "What?" exclaimed the missionary, in reply to Ned's questioning. "Willthe Saxons fight? Indeed they will, and King Harold himself is to leadhis army. I am told that his brother Gyrth--the brave man that heis!--asked permission to lead this battle himself, and urged the kingto stay out of it. He said that then Harold would have time to gathermore troops. Gyrth might be defeated and killed, but the kingdom wouldnot be lost all at once. What is more, Harold might lay waste all thelands nearest the Normans and starve them out, fighting them inch byinch. He is an unselfish patriot, to offer his life in that way."

  "What did the king say?" asked Ned.

  "As thou mightest expect, I think," replied Father Brian. "He declaredthat he would waste no English land nor burn an English house. He wouldallow no other man to fight and die in his place. He would lead his ownarmy, he said, and he is right about that."

  "No, he isn't," said Ned. "He had better take Gyrth's advice. He isrisking too much upon one battle. He hath not men enough here to beatthe Normans."

  "King Harold knoweth best," said Father Brian. "His men would not fightas well under anybody else. His absence might dishearten them. Now, Itell thee: they say that the Norman duke hath sixty thousand men, butthat the most of them are of all sorts, taken as they came. Harold ofEngland hath only a quarter as many, indeed, but the main body of themconsists of picked and chosen warriors, well-disciplined veterans.There is a great strength in that."

  "Thou meanest," said Ned, "that no common men are fit to face thehouse-carles? The duke should have seen them at Stamford."

  "He knoweth them, I suppose," said Father Brian. "It maketh him slowand cautious. The thingmen will all die where they stand, and I thinkthat many other men will die when they do. It is a pity that they wereat the north and not here when the fleet of William came to Pevensey.Had they been at hand, the Normans would not have gotten ashore at all.Harold would have slaughtered them at the water's edge."

  "All of that is Tostig's work," said Ned, angrily. "He stirred upHardrada to come with his Vikings, just at the worst time."

  "He hath paid for it with his life," replied Father Brian, "and it isa heavy load for any man to put upon his soul. One bad, ambitious,selfish plotter may sometimes do a vast amount of bloody mischief."

  All that was of the past, and there was no help for it. Everybody waswell aware, moreover, that there had been an exchange of embassies, dayafter day, between the king and Duke William. Terms of settlement hadbeen offered and rejected, for neither of them would give up the mainpoint of dispute, the right to the crown of England. Therefore therecould be no compromise, and the sword must decide.

  While the two friends had been talking, their horses had been broughtout. They mounted now, and rode out together through one of thesoutherly gates.

  "These walls and the forts are quite strong," remarked Father Brian."The best work on them was done long ago by the Romans. I have thoughtthat if I were Harold I would wait for the Normans at this place."

  "One of the house-carles told me," said Ned, "that the king had chosena better. He had seen it himself. He hadn't the least idea that theking will be beaten."

  "He would not be," replied the missionary, "if all of his men were likethem. Man for man, the Normans have nothing like them. They will cleavethrough shield or mail or helmet with a blow of their long-handledaxes. They fear nothing."

  The guards posted at the city gates were not questioning any who cameor went, and people from all directions were seeking safety withinthe walls. None of these had yet been harmed, but before Ned and hiscompanion had ridden many miles they found the roads crowded with men,women, and children, fleeing inland from the cruelty of the invaders.Terrible tales were told by these poor fugitives of the atrocitiesalready inflicted upon the shore-folk by the savage rabble of which alarge part of William's army consisted. This was to have been expected,whether the duke willed it or not, and Saxon England was receivinga sad warning of the methods by which, from that time onward, itsconquest was to be completed.

  Both Ned, the son of Webb, and the missionary were now getting excited,and they rode faster. The whole affair was becoming more real to them.It was a tremendous thing to think of. The entire future history ofEngland was about to be decided by one great fight, and everythingrelating to that was to be studied with almost feverish interest.

  It was late in the day when Father Brian drew his rein, exclaiming:

  "There, my boy, look yonder! That is the ridge and hill of Senlac. Thatis where Harold hath chosen to wait for William. He is wise. It is avery strong military position."

  "Then why on earth," asked Ned, "did not the duke send a force aheadand seize it? It was right in his way, if he intended to march forLondon."

  "Perhaps he knew it not," said Father Brian. "He is in a strangecountry. I believe that he would prefer to have the Saxon army come onand meet him, at almost any place. What he needeth most of all is thisvery battle to be fought without delay, for his host is eating up itsprovisions. This ridge of Senlac, if thou wilt mark it, will prove adeath-trap for him or for Harold, as the fight may turn either way."

  "Can the king be caught in it?" asked Ned.

  "I know not, yet," grimly responded the missionary. "I heard once,though, of a man who trapped a bear. The trap was a good one, and thebear was in it."

  "How did it work, then?" asked Ned.

  "I heard that soon there was very little left of either the trap or thehunter," growled Father Brian. "It was a large bear. Come on, now, andwe will see what all these men are doing. They are as busy as bees."

  The long, low hill toward which they were riding was somewhat steepupon its southerly side. From end to end, it now swarmed with toilers.It had been generally understood that the Saxon army had not yet
leftLondon, and who, then, were these?

  Father Brian gazed at them in silence for a minute or so before heturned in his saddle to say, with energy:

  "The trap is well set for catching the duke. King Harold knew whatmight be done with this reach of land. He hath sent on his two brothersand a sufficient force to fortify the ridge. Seest thou? They aremaking a strong breastwork of timber and in some places more than that.I think it might stop any charge of Duke William's best horsemen. Theywill fare but badly, with Harold's axmen behind the barrier. Let usride on."

  There was an elevation high enough to be described by Ned as a hill, ata little distance behind the ridge, toward the right, and here, too,the men were fortifying. The timber-work defences at the front weresufficiently extensive to bar the entire way by which the Normans mustcome in their march northward from their camps. These were not now attheir Pevensey landing-place, but near the coast village of Hastings,several miles nearer to Senlac.

  "That means Bloody Pond, or the Lake of Blood," remarked Ned. "There isa pond in New York State that is named so from an old fight with theIndians. I don't see any kind of pond around here."

  "There may have been one, once," replied Father Brian. "Maybe they letthe water out of it, or it dried up somehow and left the name of itsticking to the hill. There will be blood enough spilled here to fill apond, I am afraid."

  They rode nearer the hill, now, and on the crest of it they saw twomailed men on horseback.

  "Hear them!" whispered Father Brian. "Hark to the two great earls!"

  "Oh, Gyrth, my brother," said one of them, loudly and cheerfully, "herewill we set up the standards. I think the axmen of England can holdyonder lines against all the motley pirates under Duke William."

  "Or else," calmly responded Gyrth, "here will the sons of Godwin die.Our brother Sveyn is gone, long since. Tostig is slain. Harold andthou and I remain. Oh, Leofwine, thou art ever light-hearted, butyonder is a mighty host, between us and the sea."

  "So be it," responded Leofwine, as recklessly as ever. "Let them comeon. I care not at all to live under the yoke of William the Norman. Itwere far better to die in battle."

  "I would that all England were of one mind with thee in that matter,"replied Gyrth. "Then were we not so few, this day. The levies of themidland counties are all so laggard in coming. Moreover, Edwin andMorcar have been but half-hearted, from the beginning. I think theywait to hear the ending of this very battle."

  "They made a good fight at Fulford," said Leofwine. "Many of theNorthumberland spearmen were at Stamford bridge. If we may but bafflethe first assault of the Normans and hold them in check a few days, weshall soon thereafter be strong enough to send the Duke of Normandyback to his ships."

  "Such is the war policy of Harold," responded Gyrth. "There is a deepwisdom in it if we may hold our lines through but one day only. I willsay no more, now, my brother. I have a strange foreboding upon me, andI like not the name of this place."

  "The Lake of Blood?" said Leofwine. "Ay! All England will be made redenough if we hold not the hill against Duke William. Who knoweth thespot that waiteth for thine and mine?"

  "God only!" responded Gyrth. "I had thought, too, that he would fighton our side for the freedom of England."

  They turned their horses' heads and rode away from the hill to passalong the lines, inspecting the defences. Both of the listeners weresilent a moment, for they had heard enough to make them thoughtful.

  "Those two are brave men," said Father Brian, then. "I fear they havespoken a hard truth. The people have not come to the king's helployally. They may pay for their lack, sorely, after their king is gonefrom them. Didst thou hear them speak of their older brother, Sveyn? Hewas like them for fighting well, but he had a wild spirit in him. It israre that there are five in one family that are like the sons of oldEarl Godwin."

  Both of them wished for a closer look at the defences, and they rodeonward. It was surprising how much had been done already, and the forcewhich the king had sent forward to protect the workmen was more thanhalf of his army. Nothing less than a rush made with all the power ofthe invaders could have carried the ridge that evening.

  "What I'd like to do, now," said Ned, "is to ride out and try for alook at some of the Norman camps. What sayest thou?"

  "I am with thee," replied Father Brian. "We may well ride swordin hand, my boy, lest we chance to run against some stray party ofNormans. I will unsling my pole-ax. Where didst thou get that longspear?"

  "It was given me by one of the house-carles," said Ned. "It is not tooheavy for me, in spite of the long shaft. It is a kind of lance."

  "I will get me one like it, then, as soon as I can," said themissionary, combatively. "I may yet have to push some Norman from hissaddle. I can throw a spear fairly well, too. That is one thing that Ilearned at Clontarf."

  It was not a bad idea, certainly, that the missionaries who were sentout in such times as these were should be sufficiently well trainedin the use of weapons to defend themselves if they should ever beattacked, for instance, by bears or wolves.

  At several places the Senlac ridge was cut by ravines, which added toits defensive character. At others, the Saxon workmen had dug deepditches. At the weaker points, where the slope below was less steep,strong palisades had been set instead of mere breastworks. In theselines of palisades were gateways, and through one of these, which wasas yet left open, Ned rode out with Father Brian.

  "It's a strong fort!" exclaimed Ned, as he looked behind him at thedefences.

  "Ay," said Father Brian, "for such men as will hold it. I think betterof King Harold's prospects. Unless I am in error, all the men from theLondon camps were to march this day. They will be here before sunriseto-morrow."

  They were indeed arriving at that very hour, but both the king and theduke were willing that there should be no battle until all things wereready on both sides. There were to be further negotiations, and thefort builders were to have more time for the completion of their work.

  There were several miles of broken country between Hastings andSenlac. Some of the advanced encampments of the Normans were verynearly midway between the Saxon lines and the seashore.

  It was toward one of these outermost camps, containing, it mightbe, a large force of the invaders, that Ned and the missionary werenow riding. So far as they could discern, nothing in the nature offortification had been done here, for no attack was to be expected.They were aware, nevertheless, that Norman patrols would surely be outon duty, and that loose parties from such an army would probably begoing hither and thither, for plunder or even for mere adventure.

  "Hearest thou the sound of Duke William's army?" said Ned. "It is likethe early morning roar of a great city."

  "It is the sound of a cataract!" exclaimed Father Brian. "I hear it,but I was thinking of quite another thing, my boy. A swift dash of thethingmen might make wild work of yonder camp this night."

  "King Harold could do a great deal better than that," replied Ned."If he had a few batteries of heavy artillery on the ridge at Senlacthey would be within easy range of all these camps. He could pitchpercussion shells among them all night long. Duke William would find itvery interesting, I can tell him."

  "Speak it in Latin," said the good man, and then Ned found himselfcompelled to say something which did not include shells and long-rangecannon.

  "Hither cometh a Norman squad!" suddenly interrupted the missionary,getting ready his pole-ax. "Thy spear, my boy! Be on guard! They aretaking us for enemies without question."

  "I guess we will have to take them, then," said Ned. "There are onlyfour of them. Here goes!"

  He spurred his horse forward as he spoke, but it was not to meetgenuine Norman men-at-arms. These fellows were only Breton marauders,armoured imperfectly and mounted on ponies. They came dashing forwardirregularly instead of charging together.

  "I hate to kill a man," muttered Ned, and he did not do so, forthe foremost Breton fell from his pony with no worse harm than aspear-wound in the arm.

&n
bsp; Ned's shield caught a sword-cut from the second assailant, and it wasnot repeated, for Father Brian's ax came down upon that man's helmet,and one more saddle was empty.

  "Down with them!" roared the valiant missionary. "Thou hast laid onemore upon the sand!"

  "The spear didn't go through his corselet half an inch," said Ned, "butthere he is."

  The fourth Breton exchanged a few blows with some skill, but FatherBrian was too much for him, and his pony, also, was quickly riderless.

  "FOR FATHER BRIAN'S AX CAME DOWN UPON THAT MAN'SHELMET."]

  "Father Brian hit him on his shoulder, finely!" exclaimed Ned. "Comeon, now! We had better cut stick for Harold's camp."

  "Thou art right about that," replied his comrade; "there are more ofthem coming. It did me much good to upset those heathen. His reverencethe Abbot of Clontarf knoweth well what to do with a pole-ax. He droveoff twenty wild knaves, one day, when he was all alone. We buried fullhalf of them, that evening, and the others knew better than to comeagain. I tell thee, my boy, the peace can be well kept in Ireland,especially anywhere near the schools and civilisation."

  It was well for them to ride rapidly now, however, for they werepursued almost to a gate of the Saxon army palisades. The one theysucceeded in reaching was closed and guarded.

  Even when Father Brian shouted out his name and character and whathe had been doing, the officer in command of it let them in only toconduct them at once into the presence of Gyrth, Earl of the EastAngles.

  Near a blazing camp-fire, the light of which glittered and sparkledupon his splendid armour, stood the hero brother of King Harold. Onlythe king, himself, could be more loftily majestic in form and manner.Not a word did he utter while Father Brian made his very full report,and then he said:

  "Our other scouts have erred somewhat, it appeareth. The Normanshave advanced their camps nearer than we were aware, but it is of noconsequence. O priest, I know thee and thy pupil to be true men. Heslew the Norway champion for us at Stamford bridge, and thou wert withhim. Go ye to your camp!"

  "Speak not a word!" whispered Father Brian to Ned. "Thou mayest explainthat matter only to the king himself. Let well enough alone, thisnight. That is our safeguard now, for we had broken orders and knew itnot. Ride on!"

  Low, indeed, did Ned, the son of Webb, bow to the Saxon hero, and hewent on in silence, but he was thinking, remorsefully:

  "What would father and mother say? It isn't honest! I am cheating themabout Sikend."

  There seemed to be no help for it at present, however, and he was gladto reach his camp and dismount from his over-weary horse.

  After supper, not even the roar which arose from the army and the verybusy fort-builders could keep him awake, and he slept soundly untilmorning.