THE DEAD HERO OF THE WINWIDFIELD
After parting with Feargus and Osbert, Penda held on his way with all
his thanes, and many English and Welsh and Picts and broken men came in
to him as he fared northward. And they marched until they won the valley
of the Aire at Woodlesford, where they crossed the water and held on
towards the Winwidfield by the side of the little river Winwid, which
runneth down till it joins the Wharfe at Towton. In the glen by the
water they set their camp; above them stretched the wild Winmoor itself,
beyond to the northward lay the great valley of the Wharfe, surrounded
by many breezy uplands; southwards towards Woodlesford lay the Roman
fortifications of Seacroft and the Roman road which cut in twain the wild
moor that stretched to the Aire water. And so they gathered them in the
glen by the Winwid burn to keep the winds off them, for it was the month
of November, and that the enemy might not see their whereabouts. There
they waited for seven days, till at length those who watched from the
head of the moor came in, saying that they had seen men moving on the
hills to the north-east. The day wore through and the next, and they saw
many signs of the approach of the Northumbrian host, but, though they
should now have kept their tryst with the king, there was yet no word of
Feargus or Osbert. Then king Penda grew impatient, seeing that he might
lose the advantage of the ground by waiting. Another day and doubts
filled the old king’s mind. Had his captains betrayed him? And his men
were discouraged, for much they looked to Feargus and Osbert. That night
a great storm burst upon the camp of Penda, and the heavens opened and
poured down their waters in torrents and the lightning flashed fiercely
across the sky and the thunder rolled down the valley, filling the minds
of men with forebodings. And the Northumbrians saw from afar how the
lightning played fiercely over their enemies, and took heart and were
comforted. On the morrow the watchers came into the king saying that the
Northumbrians were approaching up the northern slope of the moor. Then
the king said unto himself that he had been betrayed. “And yet,” said he,
“little did I think them traitors; for I love the youth Feargus as mine
own son, and though I have whiles been against him, yet I believed he
loved me, and held him too true to desert me.”
At the hour of noon the Northumbrian host drew near and the king, seeing
his old enemies before him, arose and gathered his men. Then the kings
and royal princes that were with him, finding him bent on battle, and
knowing well that the Northumbrians would not begin the attack, came to
Penda saying—
“We would counsel thee, O king, to wait still until Feargus and Osbert
shall reach us, for of a certainty they will come: here are we face to
face with a host mightier than ours.”
Then the king answered: “And hath not the host of Penda oft-times
conquered hosts twice as mighty as itself, led by greatest warriors
of the world? Strength lieth not in numbers, nor in big warriors or
little, but in the hearts and minds of men. And how think ye it would
look for Penda to return back to Mercia without smiting her enemies?
Then would Odin say, ‘Our champion is fallen,’ and ye would all and all
Northumbria would say, ‘So, the old man is weak—age maketh him faint of
heart and weary of war; he is no longer Penda; let us unite and slay
him, for victory will be easy.’ Nay, I swear by the gods to break the
Northumbrians or be broken by them this day.”
Then the Northumbrian king, seeing the Mercian host moving forward upon
them, took counsel of his chiefs, and they sent out a party of horsemen
with a flag of truce and many splendid gifts of gold and silver, and
Penda called a halt till they won his camp. Then the thane who bore the
white flag spoke: “King Oswy, and with him the kings of Lindesey and of
the East Anglians and many princes, send greeting to king Penda, and bid
me offer to him these gifts if he will withdraw his men to his own land;
and they will enter into a bond with him to sheath their war-brands and
turn them no more against Penda or his people.”
“Go back,” quoth the king, “and tell your masters that Penda recks not
whether their brands be turned against him or not, for hitherto the
turning of them hath hurt him little. That Penda doth not want king Oswy
for friend; for the kings of the Northumbrians have never yet kept troth
with the Mercians, and will be content with nothing less than the ruin
of Mercia and the overlordship of all the Midlands. Penda is master of
East Anglia, and when her king bendeth his neck and leaveth the camp of
Oswy, and Oswy taketh himself back and sendeth his sword to Penda and
acknowledgeth him as overlord—until these things are done Penda will
take no gifts, neither gold nor silver nor arms nor mercy, and will give
nothing but the cold steel. For, mark you, the sword that conquered
Oswald and Edwin and Cadwallon and Cynwulf and Cynegils and Sigmund hangs
still upon my hip. And tell them, moreover, that as soon as ye have won
back to them I will give my men the word to bare their war-brands and no
further parleying will brook.”
And so they went back to their king, and Oswy said: “If the pagan will
not accept our gifts let us offer them to him that will—the Lord our God.”
Then king Penda gave the order for his men to move forward, but they were
much discouraged, lacking the two chiefs, and came not on with the old
ardour. And the advanced wing of the Northumbrians stood to meet them,
Oswy himself in their midst, and the Mercians recoiled before their
doughty strokes. Then Penda ordered the other wings of his host to come
on, seeing the battle must be either lost or gained at that moment. Long
time they fought, and now one side was borne back and now the other,
and then at last, when Penda saw that the Mercian host gained not on
their foes, he gathered together his horsemen and with them charged the
Northumbrians. Again and again they threw themselves on their foes, but
in vain; for the northern host had vantage of ground and fought with all
the strength of despair, and they gan bear the Mercians slowly back.
And now all the play was with the sword, for in such close grips the
two hosts lay in that narrow glen that the bowmen had little room to
ply their shafts. In vain Penda urged them on and rode along the lines
himself, striking with the strength of youth when any withstood him.
Still they gained upon them, until at length the Mercians, thoroughly
discouraged by the absence of their chiefs and the numbers of their foes,
turned and broke, nor hearkened to the voice of king or thane, but burst
back and, casting away their arms, fled in a body southward, down the
valley towards the Aire water. And ever the Northumbrians followed, till
at length they came to the water by Woodlesford, but the terrible storm
of the night had caused a great spate, so that the waters of Aire had
overflowed the banks and covered the low-lying land on its border. And
when the Mercians came to the head of the brae from which they could see
the flood they knew not the stream, and being close together almost in
order of battle—so well had the king instilled into them the habits of
war—they dashed down the bank, which falleth suddenly towards the river,
and plunged neck deep into the water. Now for a moment they are stemming
the flood, all that great host, and many more are pressing on behind
them, before the swords of their pursuers. Now the Northumbrians on the
bank above see them stagger, for little they had reckoned the silent
fury of that swirling flood; now they are hurled the one against the
other, and wildly turn and try to win back and break and fall, and the
water whirls over them. And now heads appear, and arms clasping others,
which may be near, and shrieks for help and cries and curses rend the
air, and the water is stirred but a little for all and sweeps on. And
never a man of that great host won the land. And their foes stood on
the banks awe-stricken, forbearing to draw their bows, for it seemed to
them as though the God of the Christians who commanded the new order had
descended and himself smitten the invincible host of Penda.
And then they hied them back and coming on freshly fell upon the Mercians
of Penda’s army. But these were not among the flying; like a rock they
stood on a knowe a mile above the Aire water, whence they had retreated
in an attempt to rally their comrades. In the midst of them stood the
king, a king indeed; tall of stature and erect and of wonderful beauty
of countenance; deep and broad of chest, with white beard falling to his
waist. On his helm he wore the raven’s wings—the sign of Odin, as the
cross was of Christ, for the king was of his kin direct, and for thirty
years he had fought Odin’s battle. Behind him waved the banner of the
kingdom which he had raised from its utter littleness to be the greatest
and strongest of the English, and around him were gathered all the flower
of the Mercian host, princes and thanes, and the whole of the Albanich.
And Penda had gathered all these men together into a great ring, and
the Northumbrians charged them again and again, but ever fell back,
broken and beaten, and ever above the throng arose the shout of “Penda!
Penda!” “Albanich! Albanich!” and only the best men of Northumbria dare
king Oswy send against those cries. Shock after shock broke on them, but
still the men of Oswy recoiled, leaving behind horses and riders with
broken skulls and bloody faces. And it seemed as though that ring of men,
calm and steady and without fear, were to win the field after all. Then
Oswy bethought him, seeing that no men in his host could shake the grim
company, and he called his archers in and planted them amidst the broom
and bushes on either side, and bade them send forth their shafts. And so
the ring grew smaller, and as one fell another took his place, then the
king turned.
“Now,” said he, “cometh death, and I shall die in the best company that
ever I was in, for never men fought better than have ye, English or
Welshmen, and ye Albanich, but it little likes me to be caught thus in a
trap, a target for unseen foes, our bowmen having fled. Penda liketh to
hear the ring of his blows on the helmets of Northumbrians; let this be
his death song, therefore. Few though we be, let us charge the host of
king Oswy and die dealing death.”
A mighty cheer from the thanes and Picts was the answer to this, and with
the cheer they ran, keeping well their ring, with the king amidst of
them. And they slew the bowmen, and then, turning, charged towards where
king Oswy stood among his thanes by the burn side. The first inclination
of the Northumbrians on hearing the war cry of Penda was to flee, so
adread were they of him, but Oswy called to them—
“See,” said he, “how the heathen host waneth! Little have ye in your
thousands to fear! A handful cometh now against you! The enemy of the
Christian and of Northumbria is in the midst of them! Now can he not
escape! On, on and at them!”
[Illustration: “Now,” said Penda, “cometh death, and I shall die in the
best company that ever I was in.”]
And then the great host came against the little and in a moment the
Mercians were borne back by the mere weight of the mighty throng in front
of them, borne back till they came again to the knowe above the Aire
water, but borne back in order and unbroken, compact and fierce, to deal
death strokes yet to many a Northumbrian. Then they took their stand
firmly on the knowe, and their foes came round on all sides of them, and
blows were struck hard and deep by Northumbrians, and the replies came
quick and strong from Mercian and Welshman and Pict, each blow dealing
death, and all the knowe was bloody; a wall of dead lay around the ring
and still the old king fought with the best, but ever that ring grew
smaller as the Northumbrian thanes came on afresh when others fell. And
ever the brands clashed and rang and the crowd of common soldiers below
looked on in awe at the grim and bloody work they wrought; for a fight
of giants like to this had never yet been seen. But on the strongest
weariness falls at last, and as the gloaming came drearily upon the
fields they of Mercia were but a handful, and these stoitered like drunk
men and were hardly enough to form a ring, till at length only one stood
upright and the king had fallen.
“Feargus! Feargus! thou hast not forsaken us: ill hath befallen thee.
Hadst thou been with us the last Northumbrian would long have fled the
field. The king is down and thy work is done, Duncan, though would that
the hills of Alban were around thee!” and so raising his cry, “Albanich!
Albanich!” the last of the Mercian host staggered to the earth.