CHAPTER VII.
HOW HEREWARD WENT TO THE WAR AT GUISNES.
The dominion of Baldwin of Lille,--Baldwin the Debonair,--Marquis ofFlanders, and just then the greatest potentate in Europe after theKaiser of Germany and the Kaiser of Constantinople, extended from theSomme to the Scheldt, including thus much territory which now belongsto France. His forefathers had ruled there ever since the days ofthe "Foresters" of Charlemagne, who held the vast forests against theheathens of the fens; and of that famous Baldwin Bras-de-fer,--who,when the foul fiend rose out of the Scheldt, and tried to drag him down,tried cold steel upon him (being a practical man), and made his ghostlyadversary feel so sorely the weight of the "iron arm," that he retiredinto his native mud,--or even lower still.
He, like a daring knight as he was, ran off with his (so some say) earlylove, Judith, daughter of Charles the Bald of France, a descendantof Charlemagne himself. Married up to Ethelwulf of England, and thusstepmother of Alfred the Great,--after his death behaving, alas for her!not over wisely or well, she had verified the saying:
"Nous revenons toujours A nos premiers amours,"
and ran away with Baldwin.
Charles, furious that one of his earls, a mere lieutenant and creature,should dare to marry a daughter of Charlemagne's house, would haveattacked him with horse and foot, fire and sword, had not Baldwin beenthe only man who could defend his northern frontier against the heathenNorsemen.
The Pope, as Charles was his good friend, fulminated against Baldwin theexcommunication destined for him who stole a widow for his wife, and allhis accomplices.
Baldwin and Judith went straight to Rome, and told their story to thePope.
He, honest man, wrote to Charles the Bald a letter which stillremains,--alike merciful, sentimental, and politic, with its usualingrained element of what we now call (from the old monkish word"cantare") cant. Of Baldwin's horrible wickedness there is no doubt. Ofhis repentance (in all matters short of amendment of life, by giving upthe fair Judith), still less. But the Pope has "another motive for soacting. He fears lest Baldwin, under the weight of Charles's wrath andindignation, should make alliance with the Normans, enemies of God andthe holy Church; and thus an occasion arise of peril and scandal forthe people of God, whom Charles ought to rule," &c., &c., which if ithappened, it would be worse for them and for Charles's own soul.
To which very sensible and humane missive (times and creeds beingconsidered), Charles answered, after pouting and sulking, by makingBaldwin _bona fide_ king of all between Somme and Scheldt, and leavinghim to raise a royal race from Judith, the wicked and the fair.
This all happened about A.D. 863. Two hundred years after, there ruledover that same land Baldwin the Debonair, as "Marquis of the Flamands."
Baldwin had had his troubles. He had fought the Count of Holland. Hehad fought the Emperor of Germany; during which war he had burnt thecathedral of Nimeguen, and did other unrighteous and unwise things; andhad been beaten after all.
Baldwin had had his troubles, and had deserved them. But he had had hisglories, and had deserved them likewise. He had cut the Fosse Neuf, ornew dike, which parted Artois from Flanders. He had so beautified thecathedral of Lille, that he was called Baldwin of Lille to his dyingday. He had married Adela, the queen countess, daughter of the King ofFrance. He had become tutor of Philip, the young King, and more or lessthereby regent of the north of France, and had fulfilled his officewisely and well. He had married his eldest son, Baldwin the Good, tothe terrible sorceress Richilda, heiress of Hainault, whereforethe bridegroom was named Baldwin of Mons. He had married one of hisdaughters, Matilda, to William of Normandy, afterwards the Conqueror;and another, Judith, to Tosti Godwinsson, the son of the great EarlGodwin of England. She afterwards married Welf, Duke of Bavaria;whereby, it may be, the blood of Baldwin of Flanders runs in the veinsof Queen Victoria.
And thus there were few potentates of the North more feared andrespected than Baldwin, the good-natured Earl of Flanders.
But one sore thorn in the side he had, which other despots after himshared with him, and with even worse success in extracting it,--namely,the valiant men of Scaldmariland, which we now call Holland. Of themhereafter. At the moment of Hereward's arrival, he was troubled witha lesser thorn, the Count of Guisnes, who would not pay him up certaindues, and otherwise acknowledge his sovereignty.
Therefore when the chatelain of St. Omer sent him word to Bruges thata strange Viking had landed with his crew, calling himself HaroldNaemansson, and offering to take service with him, he returned foranswer that the said Harold might make proof of his faith and prowessupon the said Count, in which, if he acquitted himself like a goodknight, Baldwin would have further dealings with him.
So the chatelain of St. Omer, with all his knights and men-at-arms,and Hereward with his sea-cocks, marched northwest up to Guisnes, withlittle Arnulf cantering alongside in high glee; for it was the first warthat he had ever seen.
And they came to the Castle of Guisnes, and summoned the Count, bytrumpet and herald, to pay or fight.
Whereon, the Count preferring the latter, certain knights of his cameforth and challenged the knights of St. Omer to fight them man to man.Whereon there was the usual splintering of lances and slipping up ofhorses, and hewing at heads and shoulders so well defended in mail thatno one was much hurt. The archers and arbalisters, meanwhile, amusedthemselves with shooting at the castle walls, out of which they chippedseveral small pieces of stone. And when they were all tired, they drewoff on both sides, and went in to dinner.
At which Hereward's men, who were accustomed to a more serious fashionof fighting, stood by, mightily amused, and vowing it was as pretty aplay as ever they saw in their lives.
The next day the same comedy was repeated.
"Let me go in against those knights, Sir chatelain," asked Hereward, whofelt the lust of battle tingling in him from head to heel; "and try if Icannot do somewhat towards deciding all this. If we fight no faster thanwe did yesterday, our beards will be grown down to our knees before wetake Guisnes."
"Let my Viking go!" cried Arnulf. "Let me see him fight!" as if he hadbeen a pet gamecock or bulldog.
"You can break a lance, fine sir, if it please you," said the chatelain.
"I break more than lances," quoth Hereward as he cantered off.
"You," said he to his men, "draw round hither to the left; and when Idrive the Frenchmen to the right, make a run for it, and get betweenthem and the castle gate; and we will try the Danish axe against theirhorses' legs."
Then Hereward spurred his horse, shouting, "A bear! a bear!" and dashedinto the press; and therein did mightily, like any Turpin or Roland,till he saw lie on the ground, close to the castle gate, one of thechatelain's knights with four Guisnes knights around him. Then at thoseknights he rode, and slew them every one; and mounted that woundedknight on his own horse and led him across the field, though the archersshot sore at him from the wall. And when the press of knights rode athim, his Danish men got between them and the castle, and made a stand tocover him. Then the Guisnes knights rode at them scornfully, crying,--
"What footpad churls have we here, who fancy they can face horsedknights?"
But they did not know the stuff of the Danish men; who all shouted, "Abear! A bear!" and turned the lances' points with their targets, andhewed off the horses' heads, and would have hewed off the riders'likewise, crying that the bear must be fed, had not Hereward bidden themgive quarter according to the civilized fashion of France and Flanders.Whereon all the knights who were not taken rode right and left, andlet them pass through in peace, with several prisoners, and him whomHereward had rescued.
At which little Arnulf was as proud as if he had done it himself; andthe chatelain sent word to Baldwin that the new-comer was a prudhommeof no common merit; while the heart of the Count of Guisnes became aswater; and his knights, both those who were captives and those who werenot, complained indignantly of the unchivalrous trick of the Danes,--howvillanous for men on fo
ot, not only to face knights, but to bring themdown to their own standing ground by basely cutting off their horses'heads!
To which Hereward answered, that he knew the rules of chivalry as wellas any of them; but he was hired, not to joust at a tournament, butto make the Count of Guisnes pay his lord Baldwin, and make him pay hewould.
The next day he bade his men sit still and look on, and leave himto himself. And when the usual "monomachy" began, he singled out theburliest and boldest knight whom he saw, rode up to him, lance point inair, and courteously asked him to come and be killed in fair fight. Theknight being, says the chronicler, "magnificent in valor of soul andcounsel of war, and held to be as a lion in fortitude throughout thearmy," and seeing that Hereward was by no means a large or heavy man,replied as courteously, that he should have great pleasure in trying tokill Hereward. On which they rode some hundred yards out of the press,calling out that they were to be left alone by both sides, for it was anhonorable duel, and, turning their horses, charged.
After which act they found themselves and their horses all four in arow, sitting on their hind-quarters on the ground, amid the fragments oftheir lances.
"Well ridden!" shouted they both at once, as they leaped up laughing anddrew their swords.
After which they hammered away at each other merrily in "the devil'ssmithy"; the sparks flew, and the iron rang, and all men stood still tosee that gallant fight.
So they watched and cheered, till Hereward struck his man such a blowunder the ear, that he dropped, and lay like a log.
"I think I can carry you," quoth Hereward, and picking him up, he threwhim over his shoulder, and walked toward his men.
"A bear! a bear!" shouted they in delight, laughing at the likenessbetween Hereward's attitude, and that of a bear waddling off on his hindlegs with his prey in his arms.
"He should have killed his bullock outright before he went to carry him.Look there!"
And the knight, awaking from his swoon, struggled violently (saysLeofric) to escape.
But Hereward, though the smaller, was the stronger man; and crushing himin his arms, walked on steadily.
"Knights, to the rescue! Hoibricht is taken!" shouted they of Guisnes,galloping towards him.
"A bear! a bear! To me, Biornssons! To me, Vikings all!" shoutedHereward. And the Danes leapt up, and ran toward him, axe in hand.
The chatelain's knights rode up likewise; and so it befell, thatHereward carried his prisoner safe into camp.
"And who are you, gallant knight?" asked he of his prisoner.
"Hoibricht, nephew of Eustace, Count of Guisnes."
"So I suppose you will be ransomed. Till then--Armorer!"
And the hapless Hoibricht found himself chained and fettered, and sentoff to Hereward's tent, under the custody of Martin Lightfoot.
"The next day," says the chronicler, "the Count of Guisnes, stupefiedwith grief at the loss of his nephew, sent the due honor and service tohis prince, besides gifts and hostages."
And so ended the troubles of Baldwin, and Eustace of Guisnes.