William O. Stoddard

“ I am bidden to say to thee and to all, that the hosts of the Northland and the lithsmen of Tostig Godwinson the Earl must be in England to claim the land for their own before the muster of William of Normandy can cross the sea to land in south Britain. It is to be ours, and not theirs, to cut down the Saxons of Harold the King. Hail to Harold Hardrada! Hail to the winning of England by the heroes of the Northland! ”

“ I have split a man's head, myself, for less than that. Ride on!"
Ned felt all his pulses tingling as he urged onward his horse, for the screams of terror were increasing, and well they might. Several of the angry marauders assailing the stockade were chopping at it furiously with their battle-axes, and there was no doubt but what they would shortly cut their way in.
He shouted loudly, but the Vikings did not seem to hear or heed him, and almost before he knew it he was at the little bridge across the moat in front of the great gate of the stockade. ”

“ I hope there will never be another invasion of England by anybody."
"No man may foretell concerning that matter," said the missionary. "There hath been much fighting on this island. Even Ireland herself hath been attacked many a time, and she might be again. It is my opinion, though, my boy, that England will for ever continue to be English, whoever is king, even as Ireland continueth Irish."
"Most likely thou art right," replied Ned. "The duke may bring in droves on droves of Normans and all sorts. He won't think of killing off the Angles, and Saxons, and Danes, and Welsh, and Scotch. ”

“ Father Brian, angrily, "if thou art in the advance on the morrow, or the next day, I think the heathen Saxons will show thee war enough."
"Woden be praised for that!" exclaimed the Viking. "I think they will. The Valkyrias will come for many. I shall die no cow's death. I would that Thor and his hammer and all the hero gods of the North might come and fight for King Harold of Norway."
"Hear him!" muttered the good missionary. "And men like him call themselves Christians! I would as soon be an Englishman!"
"The English are not heathens," said Ned, the son of Webb. ”

“ Bound after bound, neighing loudly with fear, he dashed forward into the very thickest of the awful carnage, while his rider stared wildly around him upon the slayers and the slain.
"Oh!" yelled Ned. "That spear struck him! I must get off! He is falling!"
One of the hundreds of flying javelins had smitten his horse in the chest, burying its long, sharp blade almost a foot deep. Down sank the dying victim, snorting, screaming, and Ned sprang off only just in time to escape from being rolled under him. ”

“ He had fallen as he had wished to fall, a hero defying a whole army.
"King Harold's men are pushing across the bridge," said Ned, as his boat drifted out from under it. "Why on earth did the Vikings leave it to be defended by one man?"
"It is only one more of Hardrada's blunders," replied the missionary. "He is only a sea king, and not a good general on the land. A man may be the biggest pirate in all the world and not know enough to handle an army. He hath done little more than to fight hard and to blunder all the while, ever since he landed. Seest thou now? ”

“ The ax was short-handled, but was heavy enough to need both of Ned's hands to swing it well. The shield was round, steel-rimmed, of thick, hard-faced hide, having thongs within for a left arm to pass through. The other armour consisted of light steel leg and arm pieces, and shoulder-bars that would stop a pretty strong sword-cut.
"Now we are ready," said Lars. "Thou and I have nothing to do with bows and arrows. Neither thy arm nor mine can bend a battle-bow. Not one man in ten can bend the bow of Vebba, the son of Bjorn, and the bow of Hardrada the Sea King is as a bow of steel. ”

“ O Ned, the son of Webb! We are ruined! Ruined! There will be sad mourning among the fiords of Norway!"
"Vebba!" exclaimed Ned. "Where is he?"
"I saw him escape to the ships among the first," replied Lars, almost weeping.
"Go thou after him, thyself," said Ned. "Harold the King hath commanded that all like thee may go. Tell Vebba that I am to stay here. Run if thou canst! Get on board a ship."
[258]
"Thou art right to stay," said Lars. "This is thine own country. Thou hast lost thine Earl Tostig, but mind not that too much. There are always plenty of earls." ”

“ If King Harold or the Saxon earls could bring out a few batteries of Maxim guns, or of field-pieces like those of the Fourth Artillery, they could tear up this invasion before Saturday night."
The landing of so great an army was a matter of time and toil, and it was well indeed for the Vikings that there were neither forts nor forces for them to encounter at the outset. Even when sunset came, and after that the darkness, ship after ship, as it arrived, was hastily unladen, every man stepping ashore with an idea that he might be marching into an immediate collision with the Saxons. ”

“ Ned more than half guessed that such a question was asked him, and he promptly responded in Latin:
"I am Ned, the son of Webb, O king!"
"Aha! Thou speakest Latin?" exclaimed the king. "Thou seemest to be well born, and thou art a scholar. What can I do for thee? Speak quickly!"
"O Harold the King," said Ned. "I would that I might ride with the army when it marcheth away from York. William the Norman is coming. I wish to be with thy house-carles and fight the Normans for thee and for England." ”

“ He said that then Harold would have time to gather more troops. Gyrth might be defeated and killed, but the kingdom would not be lost all at once. What is more, Harold might lay waste all the lands nearest the Normans and starve them out, fighting them inch by inch. 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 declared that he would waste no English land nor burn an English house. He would allow no other man to fight and die in his place. ”

“ The handsome, thoughtful face of Harold was somewhat pallid from recent illness, but he seemed to Ned, the son of Webb, one of the most powerfully built men that he had ever seen, even in Norway.
"They say," he was thinking, "that not many men living can stand before him in single fight. I shouldn't wonder if my conquest of England is going to be cracked to pieces, right away. If that's so, I'm going to be one of Harold's men and fight Duke William. Harold is a better man than Tostig. But what on earth am I going to do about Lars and Vebba?" ”

“ Nowhere was to be seen anything like a castle of stone. In the open spaces, everywhere, were tents and booths. These must now have been empty, for the afternoon sun glittered upon the polished arms and armour of long lines and serried columns of warriors drawn up in battle array as if for inspection.
"Ships! Ships! Ships!" exclaimed Ned. "Scores and scores of them, big and little. I don't see any square-rigged ships, with yards and topsails, but a good many of them have two masts and some have three or four. They are all single sticks without topmasts, and with brig and schooner rigging. ”

“ Before Ned could decide exactly what to say to that point, a loud shout came to him from Lars.
"Mail and helmet, O Ned, the son of Webb! The command of the king is that every man shall land in full armour. There will be a battle right away."
"Hurrah!" shouted Ned, and up sprang the good missionary, exclaiming:
"I'll be there myself! I'll not have any heathen Saxon cut my throat for nothing, either. I'll have good mail under my cassock, [163] and I can swing an ax with any of them. Get thyself ready, my boy. Thou art young for it, but thou canst show them what thou art made of." ”

“ From his belt hung a long, straight sword, in a jewelled sheath. His broad, round, gorgeously decorated shield was thrown over [136] his shoulder. In his hand was a long spear, not unlike the lances which were carried by the men-at-arms of France and Normandy.
"Isn't he magnificent!" exclaimed Ned. "Hurrah! I have seen the greatest of the Vikings, Lars! The Saxons will find him a hard man to meet. Who is that other man at his side? He is almost as splendid as the king."
"That must be Tostig the Earl," said Lars. "They said he was away with his ships, but he hath come to talk with Hardrada. ”

“ He dropped his heavy broadsword and stared at Ned in astonishment, while all the lookers-on clapped their hands.
"It won't do to talk Norway here," thought Ned. "I'll just bother them with New York English instead of anything there is in old York."
So he did, as man after man, even his assailant, came forward to compliment him on his prowess. He might have felt better, perhaps, if he had understood an explanation made by one of them to the others.
"The youth cometh from Cornwall," he told them. "I have often heard their speech, which none may understand. ”

“ Ned was already on his way to his bunk under the deck to put on his battle trappings, and he shortly discovered that the missionary had not left Norway, or it might be Ireland, unprovided for warlike emergencies.
The shields which had hung along the bulwarks of the Serpent during the voyage were now transferred to the strong left arms of their owners. Even the rowers put on their mail. War-horn after war-horn rang out across the sea, chief answering chief with fierce, defiant music, while once more came twanging with the horn blasts the sound of many harps. ”

“ Not in hot weather. What tremendously big fellows they are. Hullo! There comes the king! Hurrah! I always wanted to see Harold. Isn't he splendid! He isn't as tall as Hardrada of Norway. He's a giant."
His sudden explosion of enthusiasm was joined in by all around, and it won for him many kindly looks and sayings, for the people of York were going wild with joy at their unexpected deliverance from the Vikings and from the cruel revenges of Earl Tostig. They could hardly believe their ears and eyes that this was, indeed, their hero monarch. ”

“ No man careth for a bear-skin or a wolf-skin, save in winter, when the fur is full upon them. If thou art here next winter, I will show thee sport. Ye people of the lower fiords and the towns have small enjoyment, I think, save in going to sea. This raid on Britain is to be my first long voyage. My father saith that thou art to sail with us."
"I wouldn't miss it for anything," said Ned. "Canst thou throw a spear?"
"I will show thee soon," said Lars. "But I will not throw before the men lest they say I am but young. How art thou with a sword?" ”

“ All the while, moreover, the good news spread rapidly through all that camp and was carried on to others.
"Sir," said Ned to the esquire, at last, "I am tired out! I think there is nothing else that will use up a man so completely as a great battle."
"Ay!" exclaimed his new friend, hospitably. "Thy couch is prepared for thee. Thou hast fought well this day. Well am I assured that our liege lord, the Duke of the Normans, and the Sieur de Berri himself would have us take all care of thee." ”

“ His bright gray eyes were full of excitement, but his lips were tightly closed, as if it were impossible for him to express something or was resolutely keeping it in.
"What's the matter, Lars?" asked Ned.
"Father is angry with the king," said Lars. "The troops are to land all along shore. That will scatter them, he saith, and some of them will be cut to pieces by these Danes and Angles of Northumberland. Father doth not believe that thy Earl Tostig can do anything with them. All the news is bad." ”

“ He hath not men enough here to beat the Normans."
"King Harold knoweth best," said Father Brian. "His men would not fight as well under anybody else. His absence might dishearten them. Now, I tell thee: they say that the Norman duke hath sixty thousand men, but that the most of them are of all sorts, taken as they came. Harold of England hath only a quarter as many, indeed, but the main body of them consists 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 the house-carles? ”

“ Harold would have slaughtered them at the water's edge."
"All of that is Tostig's work," said Ned, angrily. "He stirred up Hardrada to come with his Vikings, just at the worst time."
"He hath paid for it with his life," replied Father Brian, "and it is a 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 was well aware, moreover, that there had been an exchange of embassies, day after day, between the king and Duke William. ”

“ He drew his sword from the sheath to look at it, and was delighted. It was a slightly curved short sabre, sharp on one edge and at the point, with a steel cross-hilt that had no guard.
"Thou knowest how to use a sword," said the old Viking, pleasantly. "Thou wilt be [115] a jarl, some day. These are thy spears and thy shield and thine ax. Fight thou well before the eyes of Harold Hardrada and the sea kings, for thou and Lars are but young to face Saxons." ”

“ They are the house-carles of the king. There are no other men like them. They are the picked ax-men of all England."
Already, Ned had heard a great deal about these fighters. First among the Kings of England, it was said, Harold had organised and maintained a considerable standing army, selecting for it the best men he could find, and making them personally devoted to himself.
"None of Hardrada's troops march as these do," thought Ned, as a column of house-carles on foot followed the foremost detachment of cavalry. "Our best city regiments can't beat it. ”

“ They will not need so many surgeons or ambulances or hospitals as civilised armies would. As soon as any man is down, somebody killeth him. They do not seem to know what mercy is."
"That they do not," said Father Brian. "Thou wilt bear in mind, however, that the killing of King Harold and all of his best men giveth to William of Normandy all the good title he hath to the crown of England. If Harold had escaped all alone from this battle-field he would be king still."
"The English elected him fairly," replied Ned. "Not one voter among them put in a ballot for the duke. ”

“ They are putting fire to the stockade, to burn a hole in it. They are swearing to slay every soul for only shutting the gate against them."
"I am glad they were slow in their fire making," said Ned. "That was flint and steel work. It's a good thing they didn't have any parlour matches. One cartridge of dynamite, though, would blow that stockade every which way—or a can of powder."
"Ned, the son of Webb," shouted Father Brian, "thou art Tostig's man. The poor folk in the fort belong to his earldom. Ride in with me, now, and bid those Vikings that they must obey the earl and the king!" ”