CHAPTER VII.
THE KEELS OF THE NORTHLAND.
"How we shall be crowded!" exclaimed Ned, the son of Webb. "Whoever supposed that the Vikings had ships that would carry so manypassengers? Some of them, too, are loaded with horses."
It was about noon of the day after the great review of Hardrada'sarmy, and Ned was standing upon the high prow of the _Serpent_, thetwo-masted war-ship which was to transport Vebba's men and others tothe coast of England. He knew that Tostig the Earl had hurried away ina swift vessel, the previous evening, to rejoin his own squadron atBruges, and he remarked:
"I'm glad he went. I couldn't guess what to say if he were to corner meand ask questions."
Everything here was going forward in good order, for Hardrada was anexperienced seaman, and so were his officers. They knew thoroughlywell how to manage an embarkation of troops, and therefore there was noconfusion. The gathered warriors marched to the shore and were embarkedrapidly, thousand after thousand. It might be an exaggeration, but Nedhad obtained an idea that the three hundred ships of the king, sailingfrom this and other ports, when joined by those of Tostig, would becarrying over thirty thousand men. It was also expected that uponlanding they would be reinforced by as many more of the disaffectedSaxons who were ready to rebel against the hard rule of Harold, the sonof Godwin, who was not descended from the English royal line.
"He is all the better for that," thought Ned. "I like him. He waselected, like one of our presidents. They swore him in, too."
He had to confess, nevertheless, that the appearance of things was badfor the English king,--or president. Harold was to be, indeed, the lastruler of England chosen by regular election, like an American.
All of the ships were regarded as war-ships, and none of them had beenconstructed for ease, elegance, or the passenger business. Each of themhad more or less cabin room for men of high degree and importance, butthe rank and file, as Ned called them, would, obviously, have to campout wherever they might find deck room to lie down on. It was quite acomfort to Ned to find that Lars and he were to have bunks under theafter deck.
"It will be a good deal better," he said, "if there should come a rainynight."
The weather now was pleasant, and ship after ship was made ready andsailed away. All the while, the blowing of horns and the shoutingwere tremendous, and every harper in the fleet seemed to be twangingthe best he knew how. There were many flags and streamers, and Ned sawseveral banners which bore the black picture of a raven. He was staringaround him in all directions, and the _Serpent_ was swiftly gliding outof the harbour, when a hearty voice at his side declared:
"My boy, I am glad to be with thee on the same ship. I'll tell thee onething. We are on a doubtful errand. Whichever side wins, I am intendingto stay in England. There are plenty of heathen there to convert,and I'll not be in Norway another winter. It's a cold place in snowtime. Even the sea freezes hard, and the wolves come howling into thetowns at night, and a man's nose getteth frost-bitten if he weareth itout-of-doors. They have fine winters often in England."
"They are not so long, either," said Ned. "I'd rather be there, myself.How many days dost thou give for this voyage of ours?"
"That dependeth upon the wind," said Father Brian, "and how much willcome, I don't know. These heathen pirates have been praying for goodblasts to all the old idols they can think of. They don't seem to knowthe name of one saint among them. It's not so in Ireland. I am glad Iwas born in a civilised land, among Christians. I am told that DukeWilliam of Normandy can speak Latin. He is an exceedingly religiousman. He is in favour of teaching, too, but not one man in a thousand ofhis own army can read the best parchment I can put before him."
Ned had already begun to find his Latin speech improving with theconstant exercise of it forced upon him by Father Brian. Day by day,also, he could make better use of Erica's Norwegian, for he wascontinually picking up new words. Nevertheless, he was all the whilewondering what he was to do among Saxons to keep up the impression thathe was one of them. It was almost a relief, therefore, when, shortly,the zealous missionary began to grumble concerning the babel of tonguesand dialects in the British Islands.
"It is all sorts," he said. "Where we are to land, they are mostlyAngles and Danes and one kind of Saxons. Besides them, there are Jutes,Frisians, West Saxons, South Saxons, East Saxons, Scot Saxons, and noman knoweth what else, not to speak of the Gaels and the Welsh and theCornishmen. It is not at all the same in Ireland, my boy, where allspeak the same tongue, except at the north of it and at the south andin the middle. I can do nothing with a Briton, or a Gael, or a Manxman,or with one of those long-legged Kernes from the West and the centre,that speak no tongue at all but a kind of jabber that everybody elsehath forgotten, long ago."
From his further account it appeared that all the countries and islandsof those regions were divided among many tribes, clans, and languages.Each leading language was split up into local dialects which differedmuch in the speaking.
"That's it!" thought Ned. "I can get along well enough, where it's anevery-day matter for one fellow not to understand another of the samekind. They'll pay it no attention."
That night was a warm one, and the fleet sailed along comfortablybefore a fair wind. So it did during the next day, and the next. Theswarm of keels kept pretty well together, and Ned, the son of Webb,of York in Northumberland, the young friend of Tostig the Earl,wondered more and more at the size, the swiftness, and the goodhandling of those strangely modelled war-ships. Sailing down theNorth Sea appeared, thus far, as a very agreeable summer excursion,except for the crowded condition of the _Serpent_. That, however, wasonly a temporary inconvenience, which everybody had calculated uponbeforehand, and the men endured it with general good humour.
Altogether different became the tone of public feeling, so to call it,when a gale swept down from the north, lashing the sea into foamingsurges. The ships of the Vikings were constructed to stand againststormy weather, but all the sails had to be taken in. Then, for thefirst time, Ned, the son of Webb, began to appreciate the thole-pinsand the great oars. To each of the latter, long-handled, broad-bladed,two, or even three, strong men were ordered. On the high deck at thestern stood an officer, shouting loudly in a hoarse cadence like asong, and stamping time with his feet, that all the rowers might pulltogether. At regular intervals the oarsmen were changed, so that allon board, except men of high rank, might take turns at this hardand disagreeable work. Even such celebrated warriors as Sikend theBerserker were called upon to do their share. Ned, himself, was halfafraid that he might be given an oar, and he may have escaped quiteas much on account of his age and size as by reason of his supposedaristocracy.
Harder and harder blew the wind as the sun went down, and the mostimportant consolation was that it was all the while driving them towardEngland. The night which followed was full of discomfort. In themorning the rain-drenched and weary Vikings were grumbling all over theship. It was as if King Harold Hardrada and Tostig the Earl were to beheld responsible for not having provided better weather and smootherwater.
"A fine lot of men they are," scornfully remarked Father Brian. "Lookat them! Who would have expected to see so many of them seasick atonce? I was never like that, any time."
An hour or so later, Ned saw his reverence leaning dolefully over abulwark between two dripping war-shields, with all the roses gone fromhis cheeks.
"Oh!" he exclaimed. "What did I eat, to-day? It's not the motion of theship I care for. She's a bad one to pitch and roll, anyhow. They buildbetter ships than this in Ireland."
The great fleet had been increased from day to day, as it was joined bysquadrons from other ports. It was necessarily scattered far and wideby this rough weather. When, at last, land was seen to the westward,word was passed rapidly around, by swift rowboats, that all shoulddraw well together, and make for the wide bay, known as the Humber,for there the landing was to be made. All disaffection among theovercrowded Vikings instantly disappeared, as the good news spreadamong them, and
there was an immediate cleaning of all weapons andarmour.
Ned himself felt better, for several reasons.
"I've not been so very seasick," he said to himself, "but I'd like toeat something cooked. I'm tired of chewing dried fish and raw ham.The water is bad, too, and I won't drink any beer. There's one thing,though; there isn't any smoking or tobacco chewing among these fellows.There isn't a pipe, nor a cigar, nor a Virginia plug, in the wholefleet. No cigarettes. They can't get any, yet, but they will, some day."
The headlands at the mouth of the Humber were very near now. The Kingof England had no forts there, nor had he stationed any forces tooppose the landing of an enemy. The fact was, as Ned had learned fromFather Brian, that the Saxons did very little stone-work building,whether of castles or churches.
"That's one thing they'll have to learn after they're conquered," saidthe good missionary. "The ignorant savages! But it'll be a queer lot ofteaching that'll be going on among them now, with Tostig and Hardradafor teachers."
Ned was all the more of that opinion after he heard Sikend theBerserker blessing Thor and Woden for getting him across the sea, andfor the chances he was soon to have for murdering Saxons.
"I know what he means by the Valkyrias and the ravens," said Ned toFather Brian, "but what is it he was saying about being afraid of acow's death?"
"These Norse heathen," replied the priest, "have a notion that it's aburning shame for any man to die decently in his bed. He'd rather bemurdered, any day. May he have his own will in that matter, say I! Mostlikely he will not be disappointed, this trip, and there will be morethan one funeral the day they put him under,--the wild beast!"
At that moment, truly, Sikend was hardly looking like a human being.He sat upon the low deck amidships, between the rows of rowers,sharpening with a stone the edge of an enormous battle-ax. Now and thenhe would hold it up to the light, twirling its heavy weight as if ithad been a feather, while his dark, hairy features twisted and gleamedwith bloodthirsty ferocity, and his deeply sunken eyes flashed fire.From such a slayer as he, no foeman might look for mercy. It was saidof all Berserkers that in their blind rage they spared neither old noryoung, man or woman or child.
"All of them will have to be killed off," said Ned, decidedly. "Theworld can't be really civilised while they are in it."
"That is what will have to be done," replied Father Brian. "We had themas bad as he is, in the old days, in Ireland. Picts and Scots, theywere, and Cornishmen that came over to harry the land. The worst ofall were the giants, like Finn and his big brethren. What wouldst thouthink of Sikend now, my boy, if he were twelve feet high, and had fourarms to kill with, instead of only twain, his mouth blowing fire, andhis every stride more than the length of a tall man?"
"I should go for him with a rifle, at long range," said Ned. "Hullo!Father Brian! There's the king's own ship, ahead of us, going rightinto the Humber. We are all to follow him, they said. That land yonderis England!"
"Hurrah for that!" shouted the good missionary. "The next ship behindHardrada's is Tostig's. Hark to the war-horns! All the Vikings will begoing blood wild! Ah, my boy, there'll be hard fighting before long.It's not one battle that'll conquer England,--or Ireland either, forthat matter."
All the ships in sight were obeying their orders to follow the king.The wind had gone down, and they could fall into line all the betterfor being propelled by oars. As Ned remarked, oars were as goodas steam, for that business, so far as they went. The fleet made asplendid appearance, and it was a sight worth seeing to watch so manybanks of long oars dipping and lifting together.
"It is a tremendous show," said Ned to Father Brian, "but the_Kentucky_ could make it look as if there'd been a fire in half anhour."
"Speak Latin," said the missionary. "What is that thou wert saying? Idon't know one word of Saxon. It's a tongue they'll all get rid of whenthey're conquered."
Ned made an effort to explain himself, but it was of no use, for hisfriend knew nothing about gunpowder.
"It's a kind of witchcraft, most likely," was the good man's piousconclusion. "All of them ought to be burned, and they will be. It's nota country like England that can be civilised in that way. It hath beenon my mind, though, that if the Northmen and Duke William kill off theSaxons, we could send over enough of the right kind of men from Irelandto make a fine land of it."
"You could do that," replied Ned. "Loads and loads of Irish have comeover to our country, and after they get there they all turn intoAmericans."
"That's witchcraft," again grumbled Father Brian. "What's the good ofthem if they all become heathen themselves?"
Before Ned could decide exactly what to say to that point, a loud shoutcame to him from Lars.
"Mail and helmet, O Ned, the son of Webb! The command of the king isthat every man shall land in full armour. There will be a battle rightaway."
"Hurrah!" shouted Ned, and up sprang the good missionary, exclaiming:
"I'll be there myself! I'll not have any heathen Saxon cut my throatfor nothing, either. I'll have good mail under my cassock, and I canswing an ax with any of them. Get thyself ready, my boy. Thou art youngfor it, but thou canst show them what thou art made of."
Ned was already on his way to his bunk under the deck to put on hisbattle trappings, and he shortly discovered that the missionary had notleft Norway, or it might be Ireland, unprovided for warlike emergencies.
The shields which had hung along the bulwarks of the _Serpent_ duringthe voyage were now transferred to the strong left arms of theirowners. Even the rowers put on their mail. War-horn after war-horn rangout across the sea, chief answering chief with fierce, defiant music,while once more came twanging with the horn blasts the sound of manyharps. It was an hour of intense excitement, for the armament of theSea King had come to decide the fate and future of a great empire.It was well understood by all, moreover, that it was to be met by aSaxon king and general, Harold, the son of Godwin, who was believedto be equal to Alfred the Great himself, in either battle-field orcouncil-room. Ned had noticed that the Vikings did not often speak ofhim as king, but rather by the old title of Harold the Earl, underwhich he had earned his fame.
As Earl of Wessex and as prime minister of Edward the Confessor hehad long been the actual ruler of England, dreaded by its enemies andgreatly beloved by its people.
Ned also remembered that the West Saxons had been Alfred's own people,his original kingdom.
"It worked like a kind of hub," he said, "and the other kingdoms of theold Heptarchy were stuck on, one after another. Father Brian says thatsome of them are hitched on a little loosely, even now, and that Haroldcannot make them obey him any too well. That may get him whipped inthis fight."
The Humber is a bay, long and wide, which narrows gradually towardthe place where the river Ouse runs into it. The invading fleet was,therefore, compelled to accommodate its order and movement to theshape and area of the water it was now rowing into. It soon began tostring out, with a narrower front, and the _Serpent_ was not one of theforemost vessels.
"I should like to see the first of them get ashore," said Ned to FatherBrian.
"Thou art all too late for that," replied the good missionary. "Ourship came right along, with nothing else to do, but Hardrada's men havebeen working havoc everywhere. There hath been hard fighting in theScotch islands, that's the Orkneys and Shetland, and a good many Scotsare with him now. Didst thou know he had ships and men from Iceland,where the fire mountain is?"
"No," said Ned. "That's a long way off."
"So it is," continued Father Brian, "and they are a bit civilised upthere. And while we have sailed along, part of Hardrada's army hathbeen harrying the coast of Yorkshire, they call it, to no good that Ican see. Now he hath pulled them all together, and if he doth not gethimself killed he will conquer the north of England first. It is on mymind that he hath been wasting his chances. We shall soon see aboutthat."
How and where the landing was to be made, was, indeed, a matter ofgreat importance. Narrower became the
channel of the Humber, and stillthe long line of ships rowed steadily on. No man could say just wherethe Humber ended and the Ouse began. Before long the mouth of a riverwas reached on the left. That was the Don, and Ned did not see anyships go into it. Not a great deal farther up, on the same side, wasanother stream flowing into the Ouse, and that was the river Aire.
"It's of no use to Hardrada," said Father Brian. "What he wanteth todo, now, is to get his grip on thy own city of York, and maybe he will."
A sort of gloomy doubt seemed to be growing in the mind of the goodmissionary, and he evidently had military ideas of his own.
"Thou mayest remember," he remarked to Ned, "that the women at Vebba'splace made no wailing at all when their men marched away? I am toldthat it was not so elsewhere. The women wept as if they were mourning,and all the old ones, that are half witch-like, foretold bad luck.There hath many a bad luck sign been spoken of. Here we are, though."
So they were, and the now more swiftly rowed ships of the Vikings werecrowding one another somewhat in the narrow Ouse.
Lars came in full armour to stand by Ned, and gaze at the woodlands,the cultivated fields, and the homesteads on either bank. He had beenalmost a talkative boy in Norway, among his hawks and hounds and thescenery he was accustomed to. Ever since coming on board the _Serpent_,however, he had seemed another fellow. He was tall and strong for hisage, and his yellow hair was put up in a long braid, which the back rimof his steel cap appeared to rest on. His bright gray eyes were full ofexcitement, but his lips were tightly closed, as if it were impossiblefor 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 allalong shore. That will scatter them, he saith, and some of them will becut to pieces by these Danes and Angles of Northumberland. Father dothnot believe that thy Earl Tostig can do anything with them. All thenews is bad."
That was the longest speech Ned had heard him make since leavingNorway, and Father Brian at once replied to it:
"Thy father's a man of sense, my boy. I am thinking I will keep myselfa good piece in the rear of this army rather than at the front. That'swhere men get killed, anyhow."
The _Serpent_ had advanced steadily, and she was now passing themouth of the river Derwent, on the right. Large numbers of vessels ofall sizes, which had been ahead of her, were already making fast atconvenient places along the banks. From each of these gang-planks wereput out, and lines of warriors were marching forth upon the land. Fromother ships, at anchor out in the stream, boats were plying, but FatherBrian was not looking at them. He was gazing very critically down theriver.
"There they go," he muttered. "All those men that are landing away downyonder, below the mouth of the Derwent, will have that bit of water andswamp between them and us. They are cut off from doing any good if therest of us get into a battle. Maybe it's good generalship and maybe itisn't. I wish Hardrada were an Irishman, and he'd never have split hisarmy in two."
A very strong force of Northmen was getting ashore with Hardrada, abovethe mouth of the Derwent, nevertheless, and among them, before long,were all the passengers of the _Serpent_.
There was nobody there to oppose them. The Earls of Northumberlandand Mercia, Edwin and Morcar, had expected Hardrada to come, but notso soon, and they had not dreamed that he would push right on up theriver, to land so near them. They were not ready, therefore, and theKing of Norway had now posted his army in strong positions, while thefrightened people who had fled at his coming were telling the newsin the city of York. The horses, what there were of them, were alsocoming ashore, but it was evident that the invading army would have nocavalry to speak of.
"That isn't the worst of it, by any means," remarked Ned, the son ofWebb, as he marched along with Vebba's men. "England can never beconquered without artillery. If King Harold or the Saxon earls couldbring out a few batteries of Maxim guns, or of field-pieces like thoseof the Fourth Artillery, they could tear up this invasion beforeSaturday night."
The landing of so great an army was a matter of time and toil, andit was well indeed for the Vikings that there were neither forts norforces for them to encounter at the outset. Even when sunset came, andafter that the darkness, ship after ship, as it arrived, was hastilyunladen, every man stepping ashore with an idea that he might bemarching into an immediate collision with the Saxons.
"It is pretty good luck we have had, thus far," said Father Brian, "inspite of the old women of Norway, but no man ever knoweth exactly whenthe luck will turn, if it's against him and if he is careless aboutwhat he is doing. There is always bad luck in that."