CHAPTER XXIII.
HOW HEREWARD GATHERED AN ARMY.
The voyage round the Norfolk coast was rough and wild. Torfrida was ill,the little girl was ill; the poor old mother was so ill that she couldnot even say her prayers. Packed uncomfortably under the awning on thepoop, Torfrida looked on from beneath it upon the rolling water-waste,with a heart full of gloomy forebodings, and a brain whirling with wildfancies. The wreaths of cloud were gray witches, hurrying on with theship to work her woe; the low red storm-dawn was streaked with blood;the water which gurgled all night under the lee was alive with hoarsevoices; and again and again she started from fitful slumber to clasp thechild closer to her, or look up for comfort to the sturdy figure of herhusband, as he stood, like a tower of strength, steering and commanding,the long night through.
Yes; on him she could depend. On his courage, on his skill. And as forhis love, had she not that utterly? And what more did woman need?
But she was going, she scarce knew whither; and she scarce knew forwhat. At least, on a fearful adventure, which might have a fearful end.She looked at the fair child, and reproached herself for a moment; atthe poor old mother, whining and mumbling, her soft southern heart quitebroken by the wild chill northern sea-breeze; and reproached herselfstill more. But was it not her duty? Him she loved, and his she was;and him she must follow, over sea and land, till death; and if possible,beyond death again forever. For his sake she would slave. For his sakeshe would be strong. If ever there rose in her a homesickness, a regretfor leaving Flanders, and much more for that sunnier South where she wasborn, he at least should never be saddened or weakened by one hint ofher sadness and weakness. And so it befell that, by the time they madethe coast, she had (as the old chronicler says) "altogether conqueredall womanly softness."
And yet she shuddered at the dreary mud-creek into which they ran theirships, at the dreary flats on which they landed shivering, swept over bythe keen northeast wind. A lonely land; and within, she knew not what ofdanger, it might be of hideous death.
But she would be strong. And when they were all landed, men, arms,baggage, and had pitched the tents which the wise Hereward had broughtwith them, she rose up like a queen, and took her little one by thehand, and went among the men, and spoke:--
"Housecarles and mariners! you are following a great captain upon agreat adventure. How great he is, you know as well as I. I have givenhim myself, my wealth, and all I have, and have followed him I know notwhither, because I trust him utterly. Men, trust him as I trust him, andfollow him to the death."
"That will we!"
"And, men, I am here among you, a weak woman, trying to be brave for hissake--and for yours. Be true to me, too, as I have been true to you. Foryour sake have I worked hard day and night, for many a year. For you Ihave baked and brewed and cooked, like any poor churl's wife. Is therea garment on your backs which my hands have not mended? Is there a woundon your limbs which my hands have not salved? O, if Torfrida has beentrue to you, promise me this day that you will be true men to her andhers; that if--which Heaven forbid!--aught should befall him and me, youwill protect this my poor old mother, and this my child, who has grownup among you all,--a lamb brought up within the lions' den. Look at her,men, and promise me, on the faith of valiant soldiers, that you will belions on her behalf, if she shall ever need you. Promise me, that if youhave but one more stroke left to strike on earth, you will strike it todefend the daughter of Hereward and Torfrida from cruelty and shame"
The men answered by a shout which rolled along the fen, and startledthe wild-fowl up from far-off pools. They crowded round their lady; theykissed her hands; they bent down and kissed their little playmate, andswore--one by God and his apostles, and the next by Odin and Thor--thatshe should be a daughter to each and every one of them, as long as theycould grip steel in hand.
Then (says the chronicler) Hereward sent on spies, to see whether theFrenchmen were in the land, and how folks fared at Holbeach, Spalding,and Bourne.
The two young Siwards, as knowing the country and the folk, pushedforward, and with them Martin Lightfoot, to bring back news.
Martin ran back all the way from Holbeach, the very first day, withright good news. There was not a Frenchman in the town. Neither wasthere, they said, in Spalding. Ivo Taillebois was still away at thewars, and long might he stay.
So forward they marched, and everywhere the landsfolk were tilling theground in peace; and when they saw that stout array, they hurried outto meet the troops, and burdened them with food, and ale, and all theyneeded.
And at Holbeach, and at Spalding, Hereward split up the war-arrow, andsent it through Kesteven, and south into the Cambridge fens, calling onall men to arm and come to him at Bourne, in the name of Waltheof andMorcar the earls.
And at every farm and town he blew the war-horn, and summoned every manwho could bear arms to be ready, against the coming of the Danish hostfrom Norwich. And so through all the fens came true what the wild-fowlsaid upon the meres, that Hereward was come again.
And when he came to Bourne, all men were tilling in peace. The terror ofHereward had fallen on the Frenchmen, and no man had dared to enteron his inheritance, or to set a French foot over the threshold of thatghastly hall, over the gable whereof still grinned the fourteen heads;on the floor whereof still spread the dark stains of blood.
Only Geri dwelt in a corner of the house, and with him Leofric theUnlucky, once a roistering housecarle of Hereward's youth, now a monk ofCrowland, and a deacon, whom Lady Godiva had sent thither that he mighttake care of her poor. And there Geri and Leofric had kept house, andtold sagas to each other over the beech-log fire night after night; forall Leofric's study was, says the chronicler, "to gather together forthe edification of his hearers all the acts of giants and warriors outof the fables of the ancients or from faithful report, and commit themto writing, that he might keep England in mind thereof." Which Leofricwas afterwards ordained priest, probably in Ely, by Bishop Egelwin ofDurham; and was Hereward's chaplain for many a year.
Then Hereward, as he had promised, set fire to the three farms closeto the Bruneswold; and all his outlawed friends, lurking in the forest,knew by that signal that Hereward was come again. So they cleansed outthe old house: though they did not take down the heads from off thegable; and Torfrida went about it, and about it, and confessed thatEngland was, after all, a pleasant place enough. And they were as happy,it may be, for a week or two, as ever they had been in their lives.
"And now," said Torfrida, "while you see to your army, I must be doing;for I am a lady now, and mistress of great estates. So I must be seeingto the poor."
"But you cannot speak their tongue."
"Can I not? Do you think that in the face of coming to England andfighting here, and plotting here, and being, may be, an earl's countess,I have not made Martin Lightfoot teach me your English tongue, till Ican speak it as well as you? I kept that hidden as a surprise for you,that you might find out, when you most needed, how Torfrida loved you."
"As if I had not found out already! O woman! woman! I verily believethat God made you alone, and left the Devil to make us butchers of men."
Meanwhile went round through all the fens, and north into theBruneswold, and away again to Lincoln and merry Sherwood, that Herewardwas come again. And Gilbert of Ghent, keeping Lincoln Castle for theConqueror, was perplexed in mind, and looked well to gates and bars andsentinels; for Hereward sent him at once a message, that forasmuch as hehad forgotten his warning in Bruges street, and put a rascal cook intohis mother's manors, he should ride Odin's horse on the highest ash inthe Bruneswold.
On which Gilbert of Ghent, inquiring what Odin's horse might be, andfinding it to signify the ash-tree whereon, as sacred to Odin, thieveswere hanged by Danes and Norse, made answer,--
That he Gilbert had not put his cook into Bourne, nor otherwise harmedHereward or his. That Bourne had been seized by the king himself,together with Earl Morcar's lands in those parts, as all men knew. Thatthe said cook so pleased
the king with a dish of stewed eel-pout, whichhe served up to him at Cambridge, and which the king had never eatenbefore, that the king begged the said cook of him Gilbert and took himaway; and that after, so he heard, the said cook had begged the saidmanors of Bourne of the king, without the knowledge or consent of himGilbert. That he therefore knew naught of the matter. That if Herewardmeant to keep the king's peace, he might live in Bourne till Doomsday,for aught he, Gilbert, cared. But that if he and his men meant to breakthe king's peace, and attack Lincoln city, he Gilbert would nail theirskins to the door of Lincoln Cathedral, as they used to do by theheathen Danes in old time. And that, therefore, they now understood eachother.
At which Hereward laughed, and said that they had done that for many ayear.
And now poured into Bourne from every side brave men and true,--somegreat holders dispossessed of their land; some the sons of holders whowere not yet dispossessed; some Morcar's men, some Edwin's, who had beenturned out by the king.
To him came "Guenoch and Alutus Grogan, foremost in all valor andfortitude, tall and large, and ready for work," and with them theirthree nephews, Godwin Gille, "so called because he was not inferiorto that Godwin Guthlacsson who is preached much in the fables of theancients," "and Douti and Outi, [Footnote: Named in Domesday-book (?).]the twins, alike in face and manners;" and Godric, the knight of Corby,nephew of the Count of Warwick; and Tosti of Davenesse, his kinsman; andAzer Vass, whose father had possessed Lincoln Tower; and Leofwin Moue,[Footnote: Probably the Leofwin who had lands in Bourne.]--that is, thescythe, so called, "because when he was mowing all alone, and twentycountry folk set on him with pitchforks and javelins, he slew andwounded almost every one, sweeping his scythe among them as one thatmoweth"; and Wluncus the Black-face, so called because he once blackenedhis face with coal, and came unknown among the enemy, and slew ten ofthem with one lance; and "Turbertin, a great-nephew (surely a mistake)of Earl Edwin"; and Leofwin Prat (perhaps the ancestor of the ancientand honorable house of Pratt of Ryston), so called from his "Praet" orcraft, "because he had oft escaped cunningly when taken by the enemy,having more than once killed his keepers;" and the steward of Drayton;and Thurkill the outlaw, Hereward's cook; and Oger, Hereward's kinsman;and "Winter and Linach, two very famous ones;" and Ranald, the butler ofRamsey Abbey,--"he was the standard-bearer"; and Wulfric the Blackand Wulfric the White; and Hugh the Norman, a priest; and Wulfard, hisbrother; and Tosti and Godwin of Rothwell; and Alsin; and Hekill; andHugh the Breton, who was Hereward's chaplain, and Whishaw, his brother,"a magnificent" knight, which two came with him from Flanders; and soforth;--names merely of whom naught is known, save, in a few cases,from Domesday-book, the manors which they held. But honor to their verynames! Honor to the last heroes of the old English race!
These valiant gentlemen, with the housecarles whom, more or fewer, theywould bring with them, constituted a formidable force, as afteryears proved well. But having got his men, Hereward's first care was,doubtless, to teach them that art of war of which they, like trueEnglishmen, knew nothing.
The art of war has changed little, if at all, by the introduction ofgunpowder. The campaigns of Hannibal and Caesar succeeded by the sametactics as those of Frederic or Wellington; and so, as far as we canjudge, did those of the master-general of his age, William of Normandy.
But of those tactics the English knew nothing. Their armies were littlemore than tumultuous levies, in which men marched and fought under localleaders, often divided by local jealousies. The commissariats of thearmies seem to have been so worthless, that they had to plunder friendsas well as foes as they went along; and with plunder came every sortof excess: as when the northern men marching down to meet HaroldGodwinsson, and demand young Edwin as their earl, laid waste, seeminglyout of mere brute wantonness, the country round Northampton, which musthave been in Edwin's earldom, or at least in that of his brother Morcar.And even the local leaders were not over-well obeyed. The recklessspirit of personal independence, especially among the Anglo-Danes,prevented anything like discipline, or organized movement of masses, andmade every battle degenerate into a confusion of single combats.
But Hereward had learned that art of war, which enabled the Norman tocrush, piecemeal, with inferior numbers, the vast but straggling leviesof the English. His men, mostly outlaws and homeless, kept together bythe pressure from without, and free from local jealousies, resembledrather an army of professional soldiers than a country _possecomitatus_. And to the discipline which he instilled into them; to hisability in marching and manoeuvring troops; to his care for their foodand for their transport, possibly, also, to his training them in thatart of fighting on horseback in which the men of Wessex, if not theAnglo-Danes of the East, are said to have been quite unskilled,--inshort, to all that he had learned, as a mercenary, under Robertthe Frison, and among the highly civilized warriors of Flanders andNormandy, must be attributed the fact, that he and his little armydefied, for years, the utmost efforts of the Normans, appearing anddisappearing with such strange swiftness, and conquering against suchstrange odds, as enshrouded the guerilla captain in an atmosphere ofmyth and wonder, only to be accounted for, in the mind of Normans aswell as English, by the supernatural counsels of his sorceress wife.
But Hereward grew anxious and more anxious, as days and weeks went on,and yet there was no news of Osbiorn and his Danes at Norwich. Timewas precious. He had to march his little army to the Wash, and thentransport it by boats--no easy matter--to Lynn in Norfolk, as hisnearest point of attack. And as the time went on, Earl Warren and Ralphde Guader would have gathered their forces between him and the Danes,and a landing at Lynn might become impossible. Meanwhile there werebruits of great doings in the north of Lincolnshire. Young Earl Waltheofwas said to be there, and Edgar the Atheling with him; but what itportended, no man knew. Morcar was said to have raised the centre ofMercia, and to be near Stafford; Edwin to have raised the Welsh, and tobe at Chester with Alfgiva, his sister, Harold Godwinsson's widow. AndHereward sent spies along the Roman Watling Street--the only road, then,toward the northwest of England--and spies northward along the Romanroad to Lincoln. But the former met the French in force near Stafford,and came back much faster than they went. And the latter stumbled onGilbert of Ghent, riding out of Lincoln to Sleaford, and had to fleeinto the fens, and came back much slower than they went.
At last news came. For into Bourne stalked Wulfric the Heron, with axeand bow, and leaping-pole on shoulder, and an evil tale he brought.
The Danes had been beaten utterly at Norwich. Ralph de Guader and hisFrenchmen had fought like lions. They had killed many Danes in theassault on the castle. They had sallied out on them as they recoiled,and driven them into the river, drowning many more. The Danes had gonedown the Yare again, and out to sea northward, no man knew whither. He,the Heron, prowling about the fenlands of Norfolk to pick off stragglingFrenchmen and looking out for the Danes, had heard all the news fromthe landsfolk. He had watched the Danish fleet along the shore as far asBlakeney. But when they came to the isle, they stood out to sea, rightnorthwest. He, the Heron, believed that they were gone for Humber Mouth.
After a while, he had heard how Hereward was come again and sent roundthe war-arrow, and thought that a landless man could be in no bettercompany; wherefore he had taken boat, and come across the deep fen. Andthere he was, if they had need of him.
"Need of you?" said Hereward, who had heard of the deed at WrokeshamBridge. "Need of a hundred like you. But this is bitter news."
And he went in to ask counsel of Torfrida, ready to weep with rage. Hehad disappointed, deceived his men. He had drawn them into a snare. Hehad promised that the Danes should come. How should he look them in theface?
"Look them in the face? Do that at once--now--without losing a moment.Call them together and tell them all. If their hearts are staunch, youmay do great things without the traitor earl. If their hearts fail them,you would have done nothing with them worthy of yourself, had you hadNorway as well as Denmark at your back. At least, be t
rue with them, asyour only chance of keeping them true to you."
"Wise, wise wife," said Hereward, and went out and called his bandtogether, and told them every word, and all that had passed since heleft Calais Straits.
"And now I have deceived you, and entrapped you, and I have no rightto be your captain more. He that will depart in peace, let him depart,before the Frenchmen close in on us on every side and swallow us up atone mouthful."
Not a man answered.
"I say it again: He that will depart, let him depart."
They stood thoughtful.
Ranald, the Monk of Ramsey, drove the White-Bear banner firm into theearth, tucked up his monk's frock, and threw his long axe over hisshoulder, as if preparing for action.
Winter spoke at last.
"If all go, there are two men here who stay, and fight by Hereward'sside as long as there is a Frenchman left on English soil; for they havesworn an oath to Heaven and to St. Peter, and that oath will they keep.What say you, Gwenoch, knighted with us at Peterborough?"
Gwenoch stepped to Hereward's side.
"None shall go!" shouted a dozen voices. "With Hereward we will live anddie. Let him lead us to Lincoln, to Stafford, where he will. We can saveEngland for ourselves without the help of Danes."
"It is well for one at least of you, gentlemen, that you are in thispleasant mind," quoth Ranald the monk.
"Well for all of us, thou valiant purveyor of beef and beer."
"Well for one. For the first man that had turned to go, I would havebrained him with this axe."
"And now, gallant gentlemen," said Hereward, "we must take new counsel,as our old has failed. Whither shall we go? For stay here, eating up thecountry, we must not do."
"They say that Waltheof is in Lindsay, raising the landsfolk. Let us goand join him."
"We can, at least, find what he means to do. There can be no bettercounsel. Let us march. Only we must keep clear of Lincoln as yet. I hearthat Gilbert has a strong garrison there, and we are not strong enoughyet to force it."
So they rode north, and up the Roman road toward Lincoln, sending outspies as they went; and soon they had news of Waltheof,--news, too, thathe was between them and Lincoln.
"Then the sooner we are with him, the better, for he will find himselfin trouble ere long, if old Gilbert gets news of him. So run your best,footmen, for forward we must get."
And as they came up the Roman road, they were aware of a great press ofmen in front of them, and hard fighting toward.
Some of the English would have spurred forward at once. But Herewardheld them back with loud reproaches.
"Will you forget all I have told you in the first skirmish, like so manydogs when they see a bull? Keep together for five minutes more, the potwill not be cool before we get our sup of it. I verily believe that itis Waltheof, and that Gilbert has caught him already."
As he spoke, one part of the combatants broke up, and fled right andleft; and a knight in full armor galloped furiously down the road rightat them, followed by two or three more.
"Here comes some one very valiant, or very much afeared," said Hereward,as the horseman rode right upon him, shouting,--
"I am the King!"
"The King?" roared Hereward, and dropping his lance, spurred his horseforward, kicking his feet clear of the stirrups. He caught the knightround the neck, dragged him over his horse's tail, and fell with him tothe ground.
The armor clashed; the sparks flew from the old gray Roman flints; andHereward, rolling over once, rose, and knelt upon his prisoner.
"William of Normandy, yield or die!"
The knight lay still and stark.
"Ride on!" roared Hereward from the ground. "Ride at them, and strikehard! You will soon find out which is which. This booty I must pick formyself. What are you at?" roared he, after his knights. "Spread off theroad, and keep your line, as I told you, and don't override each other!Curse the hot-headed fools! The Normans will scatter them like sparrows.Run on, men-at-arms, to stop the French if we are broken. And don'tforget Guisnes field and the horses' legs. Now, King, are you come tolife yet?"
"You have killed him," quoth Leofric the deacon, whom Hereward hadbeckoned to stop with him.
"I hope not. Lend me a knife. He is a much slighter man than I fancied,"said Hereward, as they got his helmet off.
And when it was off, both started and stared. For they had uncovered,not the beetling brow, Roman nose, and firm curved lip of the Ulyssesof the middle age, but the face of a fair lad, with long straw-coloredhair, and soft blue eyes staring into vacancy.
"Who are you?" shouted Hereward, saying very bad words, "who come hereaping the name of king?"
"Mother! Christina! Margaret! Waltheof Earl!" moaned the lad, raisinghis head and letting it fall again.
"It is the Atheling!" cried Leofric.
Hereward rose, and stood over the boy.
"Ah! what was I doing to handle him so tenderly? I took him for theMamzer, and thought of a king's ransom."
"Do you call that tenderly? You have nigh pulled the boy's head off."
"Would that I had! Ah," went on Hereward, apostrophizing the unconsciousAtheling,--"ah, that I had broken that white neck once and for all! Tohave sent thee feet foremost to Winchester, to lie by thy grandfathersand great-grandfathers, and then to tell Norman William that he mustfight it out henceforth, not with a straw malkin like thee, whichthe very crows are not afraid to perch on, but with a cock of a verydifferent hackle,--Sweyn Ulfsson, King of Denmark."
And Hereward drew Brain-biter.
"For mercy's sake! you will not harm the lad?"
"If I were a wise man now, and hard-hearted as wise men should be, Ishould--I should--" and he played the point of the sword backwards andforwards, nearer and nearer to the lad's throat.
"Master! master!" cried Leofric, clinging to his knees; "by all thesaints! What would the Blessed Virgin say to such a deed!"
"Well, I suppose you are right. And I fear what my lady at home mightsay; and we must not do anything to vex her, you know. Well, let us doit handsomely, if we must do it. Get water somewhere, in his helmet. No,you need not linger. I will not cut his throat before you come back."
Leofric went off in search of water, and Hereward knelt with theAtheling's head on his knee, and on his lip a sneer at all thingsin heaven and earth. To have that lad stand between him and all hisprojects, and to be forced, for honor's sake, to let him stand!
But soon his men returned, seemingly in high glee, and other knightswith them.
"Hey, lads!" said he, "I aimed at the falcon and shot the goose. Here isEdgar Atheling prisoner. Shall we put him to ransom?"
"He has no money, and Malcolm of Scotland is much too wise to lend himany," said some one. And some more rough jokes passed.
"Do you know, sirs, that he who lies there is your king?" asked a verytall and noble-looking knight.
"That do we not," said Hereward, sharply. "There is no king in Englandthis day, as far as I know. And there will be none north of the WatlingStreet, till he be chosen in full husting, and anointed at York, as wellas Winchester or London. We have had one king made for us in the lastforty years, and we intend to make the next ourselves."
"And who art thou, who talkest so bold, of king-making?"
"And who art thou, who askest so bold who I am?"
"I am Waltheof Siwardsson, the Earl, and yon is my army behind me."
"And I am Hereward Leofricsson, the outlaw, and yon is my army behindme."
If the two champions had flown at each other's throats, and their armieshad followed their example, simply as dogs fly at each other, they knownot why, no one would have been astonished in those unhappy times.
But it fell not out upon that wise; for Waltheof, leaping from hishorse, pulled off his helmet, and seizing Hereward by both hands,cried,--
"Blessed is the day which sees again in England Hereward, who has upheldthroughout all lands and seas the honor of English chivalry!"
"And blessed is t
he day in which Hereward meets the head of the houseof Siward where he should be, at the head of his own men, in his ownearldom. When I saw my friend, thy brother Osbiorn, brought into thecamp at Dunsinane with all his wounds in front, I wept a young man'stears, and said, 'There ends the glory of the White-Bear's house!'But this day I say, the White-Bear's blood is risen from the gravein Waltheof Siwardsson, who with his single axe kept the gate of Yorkagainst all the army of the French; and who shall keep against them allEngland, if he will be as wise as he is brave."
Was Hereward honest in his words? Hardly so. He wished to be honest. Ashe looked upon that magnificent young man, he hoped and trusted that hiswords were true. But he gave a second look at the face, and whisperedto himself: "Weak, weak. He will be led by priests; perhaps by Williamhimself. I must be courteous; but confide I must not."
The men stood round, and looked with admiration on the two most splendidEnglishmen then alive. Hereward had taken off his helmet likewise, andthe contrast between the two was as striking as the completeness ofeach of them in his own style of beauty. It was the contrast betweenthe slow-hound and the deer-hound; each alike high bred; but the former,short, sturdy, cheerful, and sagacious; the latter tall, stately,melancholy, and not over-wise withal.
Waltheof was a full head and shoulders taller than Hereward,--one of thetallest men of his generation, and of a strength which would have beengigantic, but for the too great length of neck and limb, which made himloose and slow in body, as he was somewhat loose and slow in mind. Anold man's child, although that old man was as one of the old giants,there was a vein of weakness in him, which showed in the arched eyebrow,the sleepy pale blue eye, the small soft mouth, the lazy voice, thenarrow and lofty brain over a shallow brow. His face was not that ofa warrior, but of a saint in a painted window; and to his own place hewent, and became a saint, in his due time. But that he could outgeneralWilliam, that he could even manage Gospatrick and his intrigues Herewardexpected as little as that his own nephews Edwin and Morcar could do it.
"I have to thank you, noble sir," said Waltheof, languidly, "for sendingyour knights to our rescue when we were really hard bested,--I fearmuch by our own fault. Had they told me whose men they were, I shouldnot have spoken to you so roughly as I fear I did."
"There is no offence. Let Englishmen speak their minds, as long asEnglish land is above sea. But how did you get into trouble, and withwhom?"
Waltheof told him how he was going round the country, raising forces inthe name of the Atheling, when, as they were straggling along the Romanroad, Gilbert of Ghent had dashed out on them from a wood, cut theirline in two, driven Waltheof one way, and the Atheling another, and thatthe Atheling had only escaped by riding, as they saw, for his life.
"Well done, old Gilbert!" laughed Hereward. "You must beware, my LordEarl, how you venture within reach of that old bear's paw!"
"Bear? By the by, Sir Hereward," asked Waltheof, whose thoughts ranloosely right and left, "why is it that you carry the white bear on yourbanner?"
"Do you not know? Your house ought to have a blood-feud against me. Islew your great-uncle, or cousin, or some other kinsman, at Gilbert'shouse in Scotland long ago; and since then I sleep on his skin everynight, and carry his picture in my banner all day."
"Blood-feuds are solemn things," said Waltheof, frowning. "Karl killedmy grandfather Aldred at the battle of Settrington, and his four sonsare with the army at York now--"
"For the love of all saints and of England, do not think of avengingthat! Every man must now put away old grudges, and remember that he hasbut one foe,--William and his Frenchmen."
"Very nobly spoken. But those sons of Karl--and I think you said you hadkilled a kinsman of mine?"
"It was a bear, Lord Earl, a great white bear. Cannot you understand ajest? Or are you going to take up the quarrels of all white bears thatare slain between here and Iceland? You will end by burning Crowlandminster then, for there are twelve of your kinsmen's skins there, whichCanute gave forty years ago."
"Burn Crowland minster? St. Guthlac and all saints forbid!" saidWaltheof, crossing himself devoutly.
"Are you a monk-monger into the bargain, as well as a dolt? A badprospect for us, if you are," said Hereward to himself.
"Ah, my dear Lord King!" said Waltheof, "and you are recovering?"
"Somewhat," said the lad, sitting up, "under the care of this kindknight."
"He is a monk, Sir Atheling, and not a knight," said Hereward. "Ourfenmen can wear a mail-shirt as easily as a frock, and handle a twybillas neatly as a breviary."
Waltheof shook his head. "It is contrary to the canons of Holy Church."
"So are many things that are done in England just now. Need has nomaster. Now, Sir Earl and Sir Atheling, what are you going to do?"
Neither of them, it seemed, very well knew. They would go to York ifthey could get there, and join Gospatrick and Marlesweyn. And certainlyit was the most reasonable thing to be done.
"But if you mean to get to York, you must march after another fashionthan this," said Hereward. "See, Sir Earl, why you were broken byGilbert; and why you will be broken again, if this order holds. If youmarch your men along one of these old Roman streets--By St. Mary! theseRomans had more wits than we; for we have spoilt the roads they left us,and never made a new one of our own--"
"They were heathens and enchanters,"--and Waltheof crossed himself.
"And conquered the world. Well,--if you march along one of thesestreets, you must ride as I rode, when I came up to you. You must notlet your knights go first, and your men-at-arms straggle after in a taila mile long, like a scratch pack of hounds, all sizes but except eachothers'. You must keep your footmen on the high street, and make yourknights ride in two bodies, right and left, upon the wold, to protecttheir flanks and baggage."
"But the knights won't. As gentlemen, they have a right to the bestground."
"Then they may go to--whither they will go, if the French come uponthem. If they are on the flanks, and you are attacked then they cancharge in right and left on the enemy's flank, while the footmen make astand to cover the wagons."
"Yes,--that is very good; I believe that is your French fashion?"
"It is the fashion of common-sense, like all things which succeed."
"But, you see, the knights would not submit to ride in the mire."
"Then you must make them. What else have they horses for, while honestermen than they trudge on foot?"
"Make them?" said Waltheof, with a shrug and a smile. "They are all freegentlemen, like ourselves."
"And, like ourselves, will come to utter ruin, because every one of themmust needs go his own way."
"I am glad," said Waltheof, as they rode along, "that you called this myearldom. I hold it to be mine of course, in right of my father; but thelandsfolks, you know, gave it to your nephew Morcar."
"I care not to whom it is given. I care for the man who is on it, toraise these landsfolk and make them fight. You are here: therefore youare earl."
"Yes, the powers that be are ordained by God."
"You must not strain that text too far, Lord Earl; for the only powerthat is, whom I see in England--worse luck for it!--is William theMamzer."
"So I have often thought."
"You have? As I feared!" (To himself:) "The pike will have you next,gudgeon!"
"He has with him the Holy Father at Rome, and therefore the blessedApostle St. Peter of course. And is a man right, in the sight of Heaven,who resists them? I only say it. But where a man looks to the salvationof his own soul, he must needs think thereof seriously, at least."
"O, are you at that?" thought Hereward. "_Tout est perdu_. The questionis, Earl," said he aloud, "simply this: How many men can you raise offthis shire?"
"I have raised--not so many as I could wish. Harold and Edith's men havejoined me fairly well; but your nephew, Morcar's--"
"I can command them. I have half of them here already."
"Then,--then we may raise the rest?"
&nbs
p; "That depends, my Lord Earl, for whom we fight!"
"For whom?--I do not understand."
"Whether we fight for that lad, Child Edgar, or for Sweyn of Denmark,the rightful king of England."
"Sweyn of Denmark! Who should be the rightful king but the heir of theblessed St. Edward?"
"Blessed old fool! He has done harm to us enough on earth, withoutleaving his second-cousins' aunts' malkins to harm us after he is inHeaven."
"Sir Hereward, Sir Hereward, I fear thou art not as good a Christian asso good a knight should be."
"Christian or not, I am as good a one as my neighbors. I am Leofric'sson. Leofric put Harthacanute on the throne, and your father, who was aman, helped him. You know what has befallen England since we Danes leftthe Danish stock at Godwin's bidding, and put our necks under the yokeof Wessex monks and monk-mongers. You may follow your father's trackor not, as you like. I shall follow my father's, and fight for SweynUlfsson, and no man else."
"And I," said Waltheof, "shall follow the anointed of the Lord."
"The anointed of Gospatrick and two or three boys!" said Hereward."Knights! Turn your horses' heads. Right about face, all! We are goingback to the Bruneswold, to live and die free Danes."
And to Waltheof's astonishment, who had never before seen discipline,the knights wheeled round; the men-at-arms followed them; and Waltheofand the Atheling were left to themselves on Lincoln Heath.