CHAPTER XXXI.
HOW THEY FOUGHT AGAIN AT ALDRETH.
Hereward came back in fear and trembling, after all. He believed inthe magic powers of the witch of Brandon; and he asked Torfrida, in hissimplicity, whether she was not cunning enough to defeat her spells bycounter spells.
Torfrida smiled, and shook her head.
"My knight, I have long since given up such vanities. Let us not fightevil with evil, but rather with good. Better are prayers than charms;for the former are heard in heaven above, and the latter only in the pitbelow. Let me and all the women of Ely go rather in procession toSt. Etheldreda's well, there above the fort at Aldreth, and pray St.Etheldreda to be with us when the day shall come, and defend her ownisle and the honor of us women who have taken refuge in her holy arms."
So all the women of Ely walked out barefoot to St. Etheldreda's well,with Torfrida at their head clothed in sackcloth, and with fetters onher wrists and waist and ankles; which she vowed, after the strange,sudden, earnest fashion of those times, never to take off again till shesaw the French host flee from Aldreth before the face of St. Etheldreda.So they prayed, while Hereward and his men worked at the forts below.And when they came back, and Torfrida was washing her feet, sore andbleeding from her pilgrimage, Hereward came in.
"You have murdered your poor soft feet, and taken nothing thereby, Ifear."
"I have. If I had walked on sharp razors all the way, I would have doneit gladly, to know what I know now. As I prayed I looked out overthe fen; and St. Etheldreda put a thought into my heart. But it is soterrible a one, that I fear to tell it to you. And yet it seems our onlychance."
Hereward threw himself at her feet, and prayed her to tell. At last shespoke, as one half afraid of her own words,--
"Will the reeds burn, Hereward?"
Hereward kissed her feet again and again, calling her his prophetess,his savior.
"Burn! yes, like tinder, in this March wind, if the drought only holds.Pray that the drought may hold, Torfrida."
"There, there, say no more. How hard-hearted war makes even us women!There, help me to take off this rough sackcloth, and dress myselfagain."
Meanwhile William had moved his army again to Cambridge, and on toWillingham field, and there he began to throw up those "globos andmontanas," of which Leofric's paraphraser talks, but of which nowno trace remains. Then he began to rebuild his causeway, broader andstronger; and commanded all the fishermen of the Ouse to bring theirboats to Cotinglade, and ferry over his materials. "Among whom cameHereward in his boat, with head and beard shaven lest he should beknown, and worked diligently among the rest. But the sun did not setthat day without mischief; for before Hereward went off, he finished hiswork by setting the whole on fire, so that it was all burnt, and some ofthe French killed and drowned."
And so he went on, with stratagems and ambushes, till "after sevendays' continual fighting, they had hardly done one day's work; save four'globos' of wood, in which they intended to put their artillery. But onthe eighth day they determined to attack the isle, putting in the midstof them that pythoness woman on a high place, where she might be safefreely to exercise her art."
It was not Hereward alone who had entreated Torfrida to exercise hermagic art in their behalf. But she steadily refused, and made good AbbotThurstan support her refusal by a strict declaration, that he would haveno fiends' games played in Ely, as long as he was abbot alive on land.
Torfrida, meanwhile, grew utterly wild. Her conscience smote her,in spite of her belief that St. Etheldreda had inspired her, at theterrible resource which she had hinted to her husband, and which sheknew well he would carry out with terrible success. Pictures of agonyand death floated before her eyes, and kept her awake at night. Shewatched long hours in the church in prayer; she fasted; she disciplinedher tender body with sharp pains; she tried, after the fashion of thosetimes, to atone for her sin, if sin it was. At last she had workedherself up into a religious frenzy. She saw St. Etheldreda in theclouds, towering over the isle, menacing the French host with her virginpalm-branch. She uttered wild prophecies of ruin and defeat to theFrench; and then, when her frenzy collapsed, moaned secretly of ruin anddefeat hereafter to themselves. But she would be bold; she would playher part; she would encourage the heroes who looked to her as oneinspired, wiser and loftier than themselves.
And so it befell, that when the men marched down to Haddenham thatafternoon, Torfrida rode at their head on a white charger, robed fromthroat to ankle in sackcloth, her fetters clanking on her limbs. But shecalled on the English to see in her the emblem of England, captive yet,unconquered, and to break her fetters and the worse fetters of everywoman in England who was the toy and slave of the brutal invaders; andso fierce a triumph sparkled from her wild hawk-eyes that the Englishmenlooked up to her weird beauty as to that of an inspired saint; and whenthe Normans came on to the assault there stood on a grassy moundbehind the English fort a figure clothed in sackcloth, barefooted andbareheaded, with fetters shining on waist, and wrist, and ankle,--herlong black locks streaming in the wind, her long white arms stretchedcrosswise toward heaven, in imitation of Moses of old above the battlewith Amalek; invoking St. Etheldreda and all the powers of Heaven, andchanting doom and defiance to the invaders.
And the English looked on her, and cried: "She is a prophetess! We willsurely do some great deed this day, or die around her feet like heroes!"
And opposite to her, upon the Norman tower, the old hag of Brandonhowled and gibbered with filthy gestures, calling for the thunder-stormwhich did not come; for all above, the sky was cloudless blue.
And the English saw and felt, though they could not speak it, dumbnation as they were, the contrast between the spirit of cruelty anddarkness and the spirit of freedom and light.
So strong was the new bridge, that William trusted himself upon it onhorseback, with Ivo Taillebois at his side.
William doubted the powers of the witch, and felt rather ashamed ofhis new helpmate; but he was confident in his bridge, and in the heavyartillery which he had placed in his four towers.
Ivo Taillebois was utterly confident in his witch, and in the bridgelikewise.
William waited for the rising of the tide; and when the tide was nearits height, he commanded the artillery to open, and clear the fortopposite of the English. Then with crash and twang, the balistas andcatapults went off, and great stones and heavy lances hurtled throughthe air.
"Back!" shouted Torfrida, raised almost to madness, by fasting,self-torture, and religious frenzy. "Out of yon fort, every man. Whywaste your lives under that artillery? Stand still this day, and see howthe saints of Heaven shall fight for you."
So utter was the reverence which she commanded for the moment, thatevery man drew back, and crowded round her feet outside the fort.
"The cowards are fleeing already. Let your men go, Sir King!" shoutedTaillebois.
"On to the assault! Strike for Normandy!" shouted William.
"I fear much," said he to himself, "that this is some stratagem of thatHereward's. But conquered they must be."
The evening breeze curled up the reach. The great pike splashed out fromthe weedy shores, and sent the white-fish flying in shoals into thelow glare of the setting sun; and heeded not, stupid things, the bargespacked with mailed men, which swarmed in the reeds on either side thebridge, and began to push out into the river.
The starlings swung in thousands round the reed-ronds, looking to settlein their wonted place: but dare not; and rose and swung round again,telling each other, in their manifold pipings, how all the reed-rondsteemed with mailed men. And all above, the sky was cloudless blue.
And then came a trample, a roll of many feet on the soft spongy peat,a low murmur which rose into wild shouts of "Dex Aie!" as a human tidepoured along the causeway, and past the witch of Brandon Heath.
"'Dex Aie?'" quoth William, with a sneer. "'Debbles Aie!' would fitbetter."
"If, Sire, the powers above would have helped us, we should have beenhappy enough
to----But if they would not, it is not our fault if we trybelow," said Ivo Taillebois.
William laughed. "It is well to have two strings to one's bow, sir.Forward, men! forward!" shouted he, riding out to the bridge-end, underthe tower.
"Forward!" shouted Ivo Taillebois.
"Forward!" shouted the hideous hag overhead. "The spirit of the wellfights for you."
"Fight for yourselves," said William.
There was twenty yards of deep clear water between Frenchman andEnglishman. Only twenty yards. Not only the arrows and arblast quarrels,but heavy hand-javelins, flew across every moment; every now and then aman toppled forward, and plunged into the blue depth among the eels andpike, to find his comrades of the summer before; then the stream wasstill once more. The coots and water-hens swam in and out of the reeds,and wondered what it was all about. The water-lilies flapped upon theripple, as lonely as in the loneliest mere. But their floats were soonbroken, their white cups stained with human gore. Twenty yards of deepclear water. And treasure inestimable to win by crossing it.
They thrust out baulks, canoes, pontoons; they crawled upon them likeants, and thrust out more yet beyond, heedless of their comrades, whoslipped, and splashed, and sank, holding out vain hands to hands toobusy to seize them. And always the old witch jabbered overhead, with hercantrips, pointing, mumming, praying for the storm; while all above, thesky was cloudless blue.
And always on the mound opposite, while darts and quarrels whistledround her head, stood Torfrida, pointing with outstretched scornfulfinger at the stragglers in the river, and chanting loudly, what theFrenchmen could not tell; but it made their hearts, as it was meant todo, melt like wax within them.
"They have a counter witch to yours, Ivo, it seems; and a fairer one. Iam afraid the devils, especially if Asmodeus be at hand, are more likelyto listen to her than to that old broomstick-rider aloft."
"Fair is, that fair cause has, Sir King."
"A good argument for honest men, but none for fiends. What is the fairfiend pointing at so earnestly there?"
"Somewhat among the reeds. Hark to her now! She is singing, somewhatmore like an angel than a fiend, I will say for her."
And Torfrida's bold song, coming clear and sweet across the water, roselouder and shriller till it almost drowned the jabbering of the witch.
"She sees more there than we do."
"I see it!" cried William, smiting his hand upon his thigh. "Par lesplendeur Dex! She has been showing them where to fire the reeds; andthey have done it!"
A puff of smoke; a wisp of flame; and then another and another; and acanoe shot out from the reeds on the French shore, and glided into thereeds of the island.
"The reeds are on fire, men! Have a care," shouted Ivo.
"Silence, fool! Frighten them once, and they will leap like sheep intothat gulf. Men! right about! Draw off,--slowly and in order. We willattack again to-morrow."
The cool voice of the great captain arose too late. A line of flame wasleaping above the reed bed, crackling and howling before the eveningbreeze. The column on the causeway had seen their danger but too soon,and fled. But whither?
A shower of arrows, quarrels, javelins, fell upon the head of the columnas it tried to face about and retreat, confusing it more and more. Onearrow, shot by no common aim, went clean through William's shield, andpinned it to the mailed flesh. He could not stifle a cry of pain.
"You are wounded, Sire. Ride for your life! It is worth that of athousand of these churls," and Ivo seized William's bridle and draggedhim, in spite of himself, through the cowering, shrieking, strugglingcrowd.
On came the flames, leaping and crackling, laughing and shrieking, likea live fiend. The archers and slingers In the boats cowered before it;and fell, scorched corpses, as it swept on. It reached the causeway,surged up, recoiled from the mass of human beings, then sprang overtheir heads and passed onwards, girding them with flame.
The reeds were burning around them; the timbers of the bridge caughtfire; the peat and fagots smouldered beneath their feet. They sprangfrom the burning footway and plunged into the fathomless bog, coveringtheir faces and eyes with scorched hands, and then sank in the blackgurgling slime.
Ivo dragged William on, regardless of curses and prayers from hissoldiery; and they reached the shore just in time to see between themand the water a long black smouldering writhing line; the morass toright and left, which had been a minute before deep reed, an open smuttypool, dotted with boatsful of shrieking and cursing men; and at thecauseway-end the tower, with the flame climbing up its posts, and thewitch of Brandon throwing herself desperately from the top, and fallingdead upon the embers, a motionless heap of rags.
"Fool that you are! Fool that I was!" cried the great king, as he rolledoff his horse at his tent door, cursing with rage and pain.
Ivo Taillebois sneaked off, sent over to Mildenhall for the secondwitch, and hanged her, as some small comfort to his soul. Neither did heforget to search the cabin till he found buried in a crock the bits ofhis own gold chain and various other treasures, for which the wretchedold women had bartered their souls. All which he confiscated to his ownuse, as a much injured man.
The next day William withdrew his army. The men refused to face againthat blood-stained pass. The English spells, they said, were strongerthan theirs, or than the daring of brave men. Let William take Torfridaand burn her, as she had burned them, with reeds out of Willingham fen;then might they try to storm Ely again.
Torfrida saw them turn, flee, die in agony. Her work was done; herpassion exhausted; her self-torture, and the mere weight of her fetters,which she had sustained during her passion, weighed her down; shedropped senseless on the turf, and lay in a trance for many hours.
Then she arose, and casting off her fetters and her sackcloth, washerself again: but a sadder woman till her dying day.