A STORM.
After hunting for two days in the forests lying behind Newhaven,
and in the valley in which Lewes lies, they again embarked. The
master of Harold's ship had expressed some doubts as to the weather,
but as he stated that it was but some eight miles round the great
cliff that they saw to the east, and that beyond this the rocks
ceased and there was a bay in which they could ride at anchor, or
if necessary beach their vessels, it was determined to proceed, as
Harold had the day before been visited by a thane whose house lay
but two miles from the shore, and had accepted his invitation for
the party to take up their abode there for a few days, as he promised
them good sport in the forest. The cliffs rose higher as they
proceeded. They kept closer inshore, and although they could see
that the clouds were flying rapidly overhead they felt no breeze
whatever, being protected from the wind by the lofty cliffs. The
master was evidently uneasy, for he urged the rowers to exert
themselves to the utmost. Wulf and Beorn stood looking with amazement
at the cliffs towering up beside them.
"Is it not strange that they should rise like this--like a wall
from the water?" Wulf said. "Had they been built up by human hands
they could scarcely have been more erect and regular. I have never
seen anything at all like it on land."
"Then it must be something formed by the sea, Wulf. Do you see those
caverns at the foot of the cliff, and in some places you see there
is a mound of rocks as if newly formed? It may be that this white
stone is soft, and that the sea beating against the foot wears it
away in time, and then the rock overhead gives way by its weight
and so leaves an upright wall. Perhaps, long back, these hills were
like other hills, sloping gradually down into the sea; but in time,
perhaps many, many years before the Romans landed here, the sea
began to eat them away, and has continued to do so ever since, until
they are as we see them."
"That may be so, Beorn. My father has told me that he could remember
when our estates stretched a good half-mile farther seaward, but
had since been eaten away by the waves, and he says that his father
had told him the same thing; therefore, as you say, in many hundreds
of years even hills, if the stone were soft, might also be worn
away. There we are rounding the point, and beyond there are no more
cliffs; doubtless it is in this bay that the Shipmaster Edred thinks
to anchor."
At that moment their conversation was cut short by a tremendous
gust of wind rushing down the sloping hill into the bay striking
them with such terrible force that the ship heeled over until the
water rushed above the bulwark. The men were thrown against each
other, and several fell down to leeward. The confusion was heightened
by the fact that the great sail, which was but loosely furled to
its yard, burst the ropes, and the wind catching it buried the craft
still further, and she would have filled and sunk had not the
ship-master seized the tiller, and aided by the two sailors there
pushed it up, and so the boat's head payed off from the wind and
ran before it.
The master shouted to the men to lower the sail, which was bellying
and flapping violently, but before his orders could be obeyed there
was a crash. The mast snapped off at the slings of the yard, and
the wreck fell over the bow of the boat. All hands were employed
for some minutes in getting the sail on board and furling it to its
yard, which was laid lengthways along the thwarts. It was found
that three men standing in the bows had been killed, and several
others badly hurt. The vessel was by this time some distance from
shore. Nothing could be done until she was freed of the water, with
which she was nigh half-full, and all hands were employed in bailing
it out.
The squall had increased rather than lessened in fury, and by the
time the water was cleared out they were two miles from the headland.
Orders were then given to man the oars again but it was found that
several of these had been lost, having been washed away when the
men leapt up, believing that the boat would capsize, or had slipped
from the rowlocks unnoticed while they were engaged in getting in
the sail. This was a serious misfortune, for every oar was needed
to force her through the water in the teeth of the wind, which was
blowing directly off shore. The remaining oars were all double-banked,
Harold himself and his thanes taking their places among the rowers.
For an hour they laboured their hardest, but at the end of that
time they were farther from shore than when they began, the force
of the wind acting on the poop and broad hull driving her seaward
faster than the rowers could force her shoreward. The sea, too,
was now getting up, and the motion of the vessel rendered it
increasingly difficult to row. Edred left his place at the tiller
and went forward to Harold.
"My lord," he said, "it is useless. In spite of your efforts we are
drifting farther and farther out, and from the look of the sky I
fear that we are going to have a great gale, and there is nothing
to do but to set a little sail and to run before it. Maybe there
will presently be a shift of wind, which may enable us to make for
shore. At present you are but exhausting yourselves in vain, and
the sea will soon get up so much that it will be impossible to use
the oars."
"So be it," Harold replied; and at the master's orders the oars
were laid in, and the men prepared to get sail upon her. A sailor
climbed up the mast and fastened the stays close to the point which
was broken off. Then another joined him, and a block was lashed to
the mast just below the stays, and the halliards were rove through
it; then Edred brought out a small sail, and this was hoisted, and
the vessel, which had before been rolling heavily, began to glide
swiftly through the water. They had had the satisfaction of seeing
that their consorts, although like themselves nearly capsized by
the squall, had suffered no damage, but after lowering their sails
and yards to the deck, had succeeded in rowing into the bay, their
lighter hull and draught enabling the oars to drive them through
the water in the teeth of the wind.
"She is going along finely now," Wulf said.
"Yes," Beorn agreed; "but before night there is like to be a sea
that will try her."
Harold held a consultation with the master, and presently all the
men were called to work. The great sail was unrolled from its yard
and a portion cut off, somewhat wider than the beam of the boat,
and in length reaching from the bow to the mast. Nails and hammers
were brought up from the little cabin, and the canvas was stretched
from bulwark to bulwark and strongly nailed to the wood on either
side, oars being first lashed across at short intervals to support
it.
"I suppose that is for us to lie under, Master Wulf?" Osgod said.
"It is a pity it was not erected before, for there is not a man on
board who is not drenched to the skin."
"It is not put there to keep you dry, Osgod, but to keep the waves
from coming into the ship. But she goes over them well. The wind
is getting up, Osgod, and we shall have a great sea presently."
"Then why don't we turn and sail back again? It seems to me to be
folly to be running away from the land if such is going to be the
weather."
"How can we sail back again? Do you not see that it is the wind
that is blowing us off, and the vessel must go as the wind takes
her. One can go a little this way or that, but no man ever yet
sailed in the teeth of the wind."
"This is the first time I have ever been to sea," Osgod said, "and
I trust it will be the last. The tossing of the ship makes me
strangely giddy, and many of the servants are downright ill with
it. Why men should go on the water when they can walk upon the land
is more than I can say. I think I will go and lie down under the
shelter of the sail, for indeed I feel as if I were about to die."
Wulf himself was feeling strangely uncomfortable. As long as they
had been at work he had not felt unwell, for the necessity of holding
on to the bulwarks or ropes, and the excitement of their strange
position, had saved him from experiencing many qualms; but both he
and Beorn were soon glad to follow Osgod's example, and to lie down
on the boards under the rowers' benches. Fiercer and fiercer blew
the wind, more and more violent became the motion of the ship;
masses of water fell on the canvas forward, as she plunged into the
waves, and would have soon beaten it in had it not been for the
support of the oars. By evening most of the men were lying under
the shelter, while Harold's brother and friends had retired to the
little cabin in the stern. The earl himself remained by the side
of the ship-master, who had taken his place close to the tiller,
which was worked by four men.
"Think you that she will weather it, Edred?"
"I have little fear about that, my lord. She is a staunch boat, and
I have been aboard her in seas as heavy as this. Besides, that
thought of yours of stretching the canvas across her bow has greatly
improved her chances. The water runs off as fast as it falls on it,
and none comes on board. Had it not been for this every man would
have had to bail all night. No, I have no fear of her weathering
the gale. What I am afraid of is, that if this wind continues to
blow we shall assuredly be lost on the coast of Normandy."
"That would be an ill fortune, indeed, for I know that the Normans
count all that are cast on their shores as lawful prey; and even
if we reach the land in safety and escape murder at the hands of
the lord of the soil and his people, I may fall into the hands of
Duke William, who is assuredly no friend of mine, seeing that I
stand in the way of his designs upon the throne of England. Truly
it was an evil moment when the thought of taking to the sea occurred
to me, and I would give a broad slice of my earldom to be back at
Bosham."
Hour by hour the waves increased in size and violence, and often
poured in over the sides. The number of men on board was too great
for all to work effectively. They therefore were divided into two
parties, one being engaged in bailing while the other lay under
cover, the change being made every hour. Wulf preferred working
to lying still, for as the craft rolled the water washed over them,
while the din of the waves striking the ship's side, and the cataracts
of spray falling on to the canvas above were deafening, and it was
impossible to get a moment's sleep. All were glad when morning
broke, although the scene that met their eyes was the reverse of
comforting. Small as was the amount of sail the vessel tore through
the water under the pressure of the following wind. Great waves
with white crests pursued her, and as they neared her stern it
seemed to Wulf that they must inevitably fall over and crush her.
The spray torn from the crest by the wind filled the air. The wind
shrieked in the cordage, and the vessel creaked and groaned as she
rolled from side to side.
"I would not have believed if I had not seen it, that the sea could
be so violent and ill-behaved," Wulf shouted to Osgod, who was then
standing beside him.
"If my clothes were but dry and my stomach full I would not mind
so much," Osgod replied; "but to be drenched in water all night and
to have nought to eat in the morning, takes the courage out of one
mightily. How long, think you, will this go on?"
"That no one can say. It may last two or three days."
"And no food all that time!" Osgod exclaimed in dismay.
"We could stand that well enough, Osgod; but I do not think there
is much chance of our being called upon to do so, for I heard one
of the sailors say that unless the storm abates marvellously we are
likely to be cast upon the French coast before nightfall."
"I should be glad to be cast anywhere so it were out of this. At
least, whether it be France or England, there must be food to be
had on shore."
"You do not understand, Osgod. Unless we happen to be cast upon a
shelving coast with sand or gravel the craft may be dashed to pieces,
and all lose their lives; for assuredly none could swim long in
such a sea as this."
"Well, we must hope that we shall find a shore such as you speak
of," Osgod said tranquilly; "but for my part, I am content to take
the risk rather than wait another three days before getting anything
to eat."
"And I would rather fast for a week than run the risk of the ship
being broken up on the rocks," Wulf replied. "I can swim but little
even in calm water, and I am sure that I could do nothing among
those waves."
"I can swim, and will look after you," Osgod said confidently. "I
used to swim every day in the Thames."
Wulf shook his head. "I daresay you might look after me if I fell
into the Thames, Osgod, but it is a very different thing in a sea
like this. These waves would dash a swimmer hither and thither as
if he were but a chip of wood; besides, the spray would smother
him. Even at this height above the water it is difficult to breathe
when one turns round and faces the wind. I think that our only
hope lies in running upon a flat shore, where the waves will wash
the vessel up so high that we may be able to leap out from the bow
on to the land beyond the reach of their fury."
Late in the afternoon one of the sailors on the poop astern shouted
out that land was visible, and it was not long before it could be
seen from the deck. All eyes were directed anxiously towards it.
"It is a rocky coast," Edred said, "but the rocks are not high, and
if we can manage to direct the vessel between two of them we may
escape. At present it is needful that most of the crew should keep
in the stern, but when we are about to strike they must all run
suddenly forward, so as to leap out as soon as she touches the
ground. There will be but little time given to them, for assuredly
the seas will batter her to pieces the moment she falls among the
rocks."
Harold issued the order. All were to remain at their posts until
he gave the word, and were then to run forward. The master scanned
the shore anxiously.
"See you, my lord, that opening right ahead of us? It seems to me
barely the width of the ship, but if I can direct her truly between
the rocks methinks that most of the crew will gain the land. I shall
myself take the helm. That is my duty and my right, and should I
not succeed in making the shore, I shall at least die well contented
with the thought that you who are the hope of England will be saved."
"I would fain stay with you, Edred."
"That cannot be, my lord. As it is my duty to stay by the ship to
the last, so it is your first duty to save your life for England.
I need no aid, for the vessel steers well, and by the help of a
rope round the tiller I can manage her alone. Farewell, my lord,
if we are not to meet again on earth. A very few minutes will decide
our fate."
"Swimming will be of no use there, Osgod," Wulf said. "Look how
the spray dashes itself against the black rocks."
"I thought not that it would be so bad," Osgod replied. "I wonder
the master does not cast anchor."
"The ropes would not hold for a moment," Wulf said, "and when they
broke we might drift broadside on to the rocks, which would mean
destruction for all. The master is steering for that narrow opening
between these two great rocks ahead. It will be but two or three
minutes now before our fate is decided."
At this moment Harold shouted:
"Let each man make his peace with God." And baring his head he stood
silently for a minute or two, imitated by all on board. Then Harold
again raised his voice in a shout that was heard above the storm:
"Move forward now all of you, but not further forward than the mast;
for if her head were too far down the master could not hold her
straight. Moreover, the mast will assuredly fall forward and crush
those in front of it. Therefore, let no man go forward of it until
the ship strikes."
The sailors had already cut away the canvas stretched across the
bow, and all on board clustered just aft the mast. Wulf looked back,
and saw the master standing alone on the poop, with his eyes fixed
in front of him and a look of grim resolve on his face. Then he
turned again to look ahead. The scene was terrible. On either side
extended a long line of white foam. Great masses of water were
hurled against the rocks with a thundering crash, and the spray
flew high up into the air, and then, caught by the wind, was carried
far inland. The rocks were now but a few lengths ahead, and the
passage between them looked terribly narrow, so narrow that he
doubted if the ship could possibly pass through them. Not a word
was spoken on board as the ship neared the opening. Now she swerved
a little to one side, now a little to the other, as the waves lifted
her stern and swept her along, but the hand of the master checked
her immediately, and brought her head back to the line.
She was but a length away from the passage when there was a crash
that shook her from stem to stern; then another great wave lifted
her, and Wulf saw a black wall of rock gleaming with the water that
streamed down it. The wall of rock flashed past the bulwarks so
closely that he could have touched it. A moment later the ship struck
again, this time with a force that threw many off their feet, while
the mast fell over the bow. Then once more she lifted, shot a few
feet further, then struck with tremendous force and remained
stationary.
There was a grinding and splintering of planks, as the men rushed
forward, and then a wave swept over the vessel, carrying all on
deck before it into the cove beyond the rock, rolling them over and
over up a sandy shore behind. Some managed to dig their hands and
feet into the sand and to scramble out; more were sucked back again
by the receding waters. As Wulf found himself in the water he felt
his arm clutched, and Osgod shouted in his ear: "Do not struggle,
I can keep you up!"
When thrown up on the sand Wulf tried in vain to resist the backward
rush of the water; he and Osgod were borne out again. When the next
wave again swept them up Wulf saw the earl standing knee-deep in
the water, and as he was swept past, Harold seized him and Osgod,
and with tremendous strength lifted them right out of the water.
"Keep still!" he shouted; "your weight will help me to keep my
feet." Wulf felt his supporter quiver as the water rushed out, for
he was waist-deep now; but directly afterwards he set them both
down on their feet, saying, "Run before the next wave comes." Ten
yards farther and they were beyond the reach of the sea. Harold
was with them, and directed those who had got ashore to form lines,
taking hold of each other's hands, and so to advance far into the
surf and grasp their comrades as they were swept up. Many were saved
in this way, although some of the rescuers were badly hurt by
floating pieces of wreckage, for the vessel had entirely broken up
immediately after her course had been arrested.
As soon as all who could be seen were brought ashore it was found
that ten men were missing, among whom was the master of the ship,
most of them having probably been struck by floating timbers. As
soon as it was certain that no more would come ashore alive Harold
called the men together. Rough litters were made of oars and pieces
of sail, for the conveyance of those who had broken limbs or were
too much injured to walk, and the party prepared for a start. By
this time several men, apparently of the fishing class, had approached,
but stood a short distance away, evidently waiting for the departure
of the party before beginning the work of collecting whatever the
sea might cast up. Harold went over to them, and asked in the Norman
tongue:
"What shore is this, and how far is it to the nearest town where
we can obtain shelter and assistance?"
"You are in Ponthieu, in the territories of Count Conrad. The town
of St. Valery is but two miles along the coast. There you can obtain
all you need."
Returning to his men, Harold ordered the wounded to be raised, and
the party at once set out. Harold had already taken off his gold
chain and rings, and had told his companions to do the same, in
order that the cupidity of the natives might not be excited nor
their rank guessed at. As soon as they started Wulf went up to him.
"My lord," he said, "I fear that you have already been recognized
by one of the fishermen. I saw him looking earnestly at you, and
then whisper to one of his companions. After doing so he hurried
away."
"That is bad news, Wulf; but I could hardly expect that I should
be long unrecognized. There are many vessels come and go between
the northern ports and our own, and in St. Valery there must be
numbers of sailors and fishermen who have seen me in London. Besides,
we are sure to be questioned by the count as to our rank and
condition, and even could we conceal it for a while, the news is
certain to be brought ere long from England of our having been blown
off the coast, and when it was known it would be speedily guessed
that we were the missing party. Hark you, Wulf; I have never heard
aught good of Count Conrad, and one cannot say what steps he may
take to force us to pay a heavy ransom, but it is like enough that
he will do all he can to prevent the news of my being in his hands
from reaching the ears of the duke. It is likely that you and Beorn,
being but lads, will be watched less rigorously than the rest of
us. Should this be so, try, if you find an opportunity, to send the
news to the duke that we are all held prisoners here. I shall, of
course, endeavour to communicate with him, but some chance may occur
by which you can do so more readily than I can."
"I will try to do so, my lord; but I trust this Norman count will
treat you with all due honour and courtesy."
Wulf then fell back to Beorn's side, and half an hour later the
shipwrecked party entered the gates of St. Valery. The townspeople
flocked round them, and as soon as they learned that they were a
party of shipwrecked Saxons who had been blown by the gale from
England, they were led to the house of the officer in command of
the town. He asked them a few questions, saying, "I must refer the
matter to the count. By the usages of our land all who are cast
upon it become his prisoners, to be put to ransom or otherwise as
he may decide. However, food shall be supplied you at once, but
you must be content to remain under guard until his pleasure is
known."
They were accordingly at once placed in a disused granary, under
the charge of a strong guard. Food was brought to them, and as soon
as they had consumed this, most of the men threw themselves on the
ground, worn out by their long exertions.
"This is a sorry welcome, Wulf, after our escape from the sea,"
Beorn said. "Truly the land seems as inhospitable as the ocean."
"It is not pleasant, Beorn, but at present I feel so thankful for
my escape from those terrible waves that even the thought that we
are all prisoners to this petty noble does not greatly concern me.
Doubtless William of Normandy, who is the liege lord of the land,
will speedily take us out of his hands. Were we alone it may be
that we should suffer a long stay in his dungeons, but Harold and
his brother are far too important personages to be allowed to remain
in the hands of one of the duke's vassals."
"It is shameful," Beorn said indignantly. "I do not say that those
who are cast on our shores may not be often pillaged and ill-treated
by the common folk, but surely none of gentle blood would fail to
show them kindness and hospitality."
"That is so on our coast of Sussex, but I have heard that further
west, and certainly among the Danes of Northumbria, vessels cast
on the coast are considered as gifts from the sea, and even the
lives of those who gain the shore are not often respected. I regret
much that Harold should be with us. It is true that his being here
will doubtless shorten the term of our imprisonment, but it is
unfortunate that he should fall into the hands of William, who is
as famous for craft and subtlety as he is for bravery and skill as
a leader."
"But what can he gain from Harold?" Beorn asked. "Our earl is
well-nigh as much known throughout Europe as William of Normandy,
and all Christendom would cry out with shame were he treated with
ought but courtesy by the duke."
"I doubt not that he will treat him with courtesy, Beorn, but he
may well wring some concessions from him before he lets him depart.
He may bargain that the Normans may be again allowed to hold land
in England, and to build their castles, as they did before Godwin
and his sons returned from exile, and the Normans had to fly the
land, save those around the person of the king. He may beg so many
bishoprics for Norman priests. There is no saying what concessions
he may extort. Of all princes in Europe I had rather Harold had
fallen into the hands of any other than into those of William of
Normandy."
"Truly I have never troubled my head about such matters, Wulf, and
thought that it would be time to do so when I became a thane, and
had a vote at the Witan."
"I have heard much of them from the prior of Bramber, who is a true
Englishman, and though a priest, learned in all matters that appertain
to the history of times past and of our own; he impressed upon me
that just as a boy must practise arms if he is to bear them worthily
as a man, so he should study the story of our kings, and learn what
is passing, not only in our own country but in others, if he is
ever to raise his voice in council."
Harold and his thanes sat apart discussing the position, their
conclusion being very similar to that arrived at by Wulf. Chivalry
had but slight influence as yet in the West of Europe. Kings and
princes cared little as to the means by which they attained an end.
Rivals to a throne were put out of the way without scruple; the
profession of arms was a business like any other, carried on for
gain; a captured foe was valued chiefly for the amount of ransom
that could be obtained for him; petty barons and powerful nobles
alike levied exactions on those who might fall into their hands,
unless previously provided with a safe-conduct. Years later, when
King Richard was made a prisoner on his return from the Holy Land,
it was only because of his great exploits for the recapture of the
Holy Sepulchre that any feeling of reprobation was excited against
his captors. Thus then, although Normandy was at peace with England,
it did not seem an unnatural thing to Harold and his companions
that the noble into whose hands they had fallen should demand a
heavy ransom, or that the Duke of Normandy himself should utilize
the opportunity for his advantage.
On the following morning they heard a large body of horsemen ride
up. A minute later the governor accompanied by a Norman noble
entered. They were followed by a number of men-at-arms, among whom
was a fisherman.
"Now, fellow," the count said to this man, "which is the Saxon
Harold?"
"I am," Harold said, advancing a step before his companions. "I
am Harold, Earl of Wessex. I have with my companions been cast on
your shores. I expect honourable treatment, and am willing to pay
any reasonable ransom should you demand one."
"We will talk of that afterwards," the count said roughly; "for the
present you go with me to my castle at Beaurain. But first do you
and your men hand over all valuables that you may possess; they are
forfeited to me, being cast up on my land."
Without a word Harold produced his chain of office and other
ornaments, and dropped them into a helmet which a soldier at the
orders of the count held out for them. His companions did the same,
the thanes first and then the two lads.
"That will do," the count said to the soldiers. "That is my share,
you can search the rest yourselves."
"I protest against this robbery," Harold said haughtily, "and will
proclaim you in all the courts of Europe as one who is false to his
station, and who condescends to pillage those whom fortune has cast
on his shores."
"You can wait until you get an opportunity to do so," the count
sneered; "it is not likely to come for some time. You can do as you
like to the others," he went on to the governor, "I want not to be
cumbered with them. You can doubtless find work for them on the
fortifications, but if you can put them to no use or they are
troublesome, cut their throats and throw them into the sea."
The Saxons fingered their knives, but Harold said in their own
tongue, "Resistance would be folly, the time may come when we may
turn the tables on this fellow." The soldiers now closed round
Harold and the thanes and led them out of the house. Here they were
ordered to mount each behind a soldier, and as soon as they had
done so they rode out from St. Valery, and crossing the river Somme
at Abbeville, and the Authie by a ford near Crecy, reached the
fortress of Beaurain on the river Canche near the town of Hesdin
before nightfall. On the road Wulf watched anxiously for a chance
to escape, but none offered itself. Soldiers rode on both sides of
the captives, and had he slipped from the horse he could not have
hoped to make his escape across an open country. As soon as they
entered the fortress Harold and the thanes were all consigned to
dungeons, but the count, learning that the two lads had been Harold's
pages, said they should wait on himself. "And see," he said to them,
"that your service is good, if you do not wish to dangle over the
moat at the end of a rope."
"It is a shame that such a man should be a nobleman," Beorn exclaimed
indignantly to Wulf, as he saw that the soldiers were placing chains
upon Harold before they led him away.
"He is a hateful-looking villain," Wulf said. "It is but lately
that he revolted against William. I heard of it from the prior. His
brother, the last Count of Ponthieu, joined France in an invasion
of Normandy. He fell in an ambush at St. Aubin, and this man became
count. For a time he was held prisoner by the duke, but afterwards
he was freed, and received back his dominions as a vassal. His face
is at once cruel and base. I told you the instructions Harold gave
me, Beorn; the need for carrying them out has arrived, and I will
try to make my escape without loss of time from this fortress to
bear the tidings to the duke."
"I will escape with you, Wulf; two can get on better than one."
"That is so, Beorn, and I would gladly have you with me, but maybe
I shall be detected in attempting to escape and be slain, or I may
fall into the hands of peasants and be brought back here, and if
we were together all hope of letting the duke know of our lord's
captivity would be at an end. Therefore it were best that I made
the attempt first. If I fail, which is like enough, then do you in
turn try to get away and bear the news to the duke."
Beorn did not like to stay behind, but he saw that Wulf's plan was
best, and accordingly fell in with it.
"Will you go at once?" he asked.
"No; I will stay for a day or two to lull suspicion. They may watch
us just at first, but if they see that we do as we are ordered with
good-will they will cease to regard us so narrowly; moreover, it
will be needful to know the place well before I devise a plan of
escape."