CHAPTER I.

E-text prepared by Chris Curnow, Lindy Walsh, Mary Meehan, and the Online

Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)

Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this

file which includes the original illustrations.

See 36054-h.htm or 36054-h.zip:

(https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/36054/pg36054-images.html)

or

(https://www.gutenberg.org/files/36054/36054-h.zip)

THE LAST OF THE VIKINGS.

by

JOHN BOWLING

Author of "Brailsford: A Tale of West Riding Life," etc.

London:

Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent & Co.

Leeds: Henry Walker, Briggate.

Printed by Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury

[Illustration: SAXON AND VIKING. "THE CURSE OF SKULD BE UPON THEE,

TRAITOR!"]

CONTENTS.

I. ETHEL

II. STORM CLOUDS

III. TRAITORS IN COUNCIL

IV. DEFEAT

V. DESPERATE RESOLVES

VI. BARON VIGNEAU

VII. ALICE DE MONTFORT

VIII. VILLAINS PLOTTING

IX. VILLAINS OUTWITTED

X. A FRUITLESS EMBASSY

XI. OSWALD'S DEFENCE OF HIS CASTLE

XII. ALICE DE MONTFORT SETS FREE THE SAXON CHIEFTAIN

XIII. BARON VIGNEAU BALKED OF HIS REVENGE

XIV. THE SAXON CHIEFTAIN CONFRONTS DE MONTFORT

XV. OUTLAWS AND WOLFSHEADS

XVI. SIGURD THE VIKING

XVII. EVIL COUNSELLORS

XVIII. LOVE IS STRONGER THAN HATE

XIX. ALICE DE MONTFORT AND THE SAXON CHIEFTAIN

XX. WAR'S VICISSITUDES

XXI. VIKING CHIEF AND SAXON MAIDEN

XXII. A VIKING'S LOVE

XXIII. A VILLAIN DEMANDS HIS WAGES

XXIV. THE TRYST

XXV. BADGER CRACKS THE NORMAN'S PATE

XXVI. SAXON AND VIKING AT THE SWORD'S POINT

XXVII. JEANNETTE AND WULFHERE; OR LOVE'S COMEDIES

XXVIII. A GRIM TEMPLE, A GRIM PRIEST, AND A SAD HEART

XXIX. EDGAR ATHELING

XXX. PRINCE AND PARASITE

XXXI. PRINCE AND VIKING

XXXII. BADGER ON THE ALERT

XXXIII. DOG ROBS DOG

XXXIV. WILD DARING OF SIGURD THE VIKING

XXXV. THE SAXON DEVIL AND THE WICKED ABBOT

XXXVI. LOVERS PLOTTING

XXXVII. THE JOUST: SAXON AND NORMAN

XXXVIII. THE SAXONS' REVENGE

XXXIX. BEWARE THE VIKING

XL. THE HOUR BEFORE THE DAWN

XLI. NOBILITY IN CONTRAST

XLII. VIKINGS ALL! AN OLD TIME SAGA

XLIII. THE CONQUEROR CONQUERED

XLIV. THE LAST OF THE VIKINGS

XLV. SUNSHINE HAS ITS SHADOWS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

SAXON AND VIKING. "THE CURSE OF SKULD BE UPON THEE, TRAITOR!"

ALICE DE MONTFORT SETS FREE THE SAXON CHIEFTAIN.

THE SAXON CHIEFTAIN CONFRONTS DE MONTFORT.

NOTE.

From "Smith's History of Old Yorkshire" we learn that one Arthur Clapham

in the year 1066 was possessed of several hides of land near Lambeth in

Surrey, and also of the domain of Clapham in Yorkshire. But by opposing

the Conqueror he lost his lands in the South of England. He then fled

into the wilds of Craven in Yorkshire, and built a stronghold, on the

brow of Ingleboro', (the remains of which are still visible) and he

founded the village of Clapham in the valley beneath. In 1068, however,

the said Arthur by marrying a daughter of Robert, Earl of

Northumberland, was restored to the confidence and favour of William,

and had lands granted to him in Lonsdale.

THE LAST OF THE VIKINGS

(_From the Monastic Chronicles of ----._)

CHAPTER I.

ETHEL.

"Be just and fear not.

Let all thou aim'st at be thy country's,

Thy God's, and truth's."

Shakespeare.

I, Adhelm, Abbot of this monastery of ----, being eye-witness, and

likewise participator in the unhappy times my beloved country was

subjected to, in consequence of the Norman Conquest and the troublous

times which followed, it occurred to me to make a record of these things

after the example of the beloved Bede, whose "Chronicles" are so justly

esteemed by those who are concerned in the history of our ancient race.

I would have it known, then, by all those who are interested in the

matter, that this ancient monastery was founded by that wise and good

king, Alfred, who assigned unto it, for revenue, one hundred and twenty

hides of land; all of which was well wooded and watered, being fertile

and free. That is, with sack and sock, toll and team, and infang-thief.

It pleased him also, in furtherance of his purpose, to lay charges upon

certain thegns and nobles, who had lands adjacent to this monastery

assigned to them by him, that they should annually pay to the monastery

for the maintenance of the brotherhood, and for the purpose of defraying

the cost of its extensive charities and hospitalities, one hundred and

fifty loads of wood, and twenty-five loads of faggots; together with

thirty-five tuns of pure ale; seventy beasts, ready for slaughter;

twelve hundred loaves; fifty-six measures of Welsh ale; sixteen butts of

wine; six horses; and one hundred and thirty pounds, ten shillings, of

money. Now, as to all other matters, such as the particulars of lands

and farms, church and cloister, granges, Abbot's and Prior's lodgings,

which may be of interest to some, but which are not material to this

narrative; I refer all such to our carticularies, in which all these

particulars were carefully noted by our sacristan. Enough, however, has

now been said to show that in the merely worldly point of view, this

monastery was, when in peaceful enjoyment of its emoluments, a

foundation of no mean order. In consequence also of its bounties it

attracted palmers, minstrels, newsbearers, from all parts of the

kingdom. Thus I had exceptional opportunities of learning how the

kingdom fared.

* * * * *

Adown the valley one bright September morning, in the year 1066, was

speeding Ethel, the only daughter of the Danish thane Beowulf, who is

lord of the domain of Rivenwood, and whose hall looks down from the

wooded heights in the distance like a grim sentinel. This fair girl

Ethel was probably not more than fifteen years of age--just at the

juncture where coy and blushing maidenhood, with its unconscious

assumptions of grace and dignity, joins issue with the freer and bolder

manners of girlhood, and when the wholesome, innocent, and graceful

blending is wholly interesting, and often most piquant. Most piquant

indeed, at all events, was this graceful specimen of budding womanhood.

Her brow was open and expressive, her countenance somewhat broad, in

sympathy with her manner of life; the free, unfettered, and merry

out-of-door life of sylvan England. Her blue eyes glanced, and sparkled,

and glowed, betokening a mind responsive and alert as the falcon which

perched upon her embroidered leathern gauntlet. Her nose was perfectly

straight, but had just so much of an upward trend as to indicate the

point positive, and the attitude--"beware all." Upon her head she wore a

sort of cap of blue silk, broad at the crown and drooping over the broad

scarlet band with which it was bound. In the front of this head-dress

stood erect a couple of eagles' feathers; whilst from underneath it the

flaxen curls, like the fetterless things they were, burst luxuriantly,

and circled across her forehead and over her ears; and though the wanton

tresses were captured again at the back of her head, yet they burst away

again and ran riot over her shoulders and down to her girdle. Of

jewellery, she wore a handsome gold torc which encircled her neck, on

which, and on the pendants attached thereto, were skilfully engraved

strange mystical runic devices. She wore a mantle trimmed with fur,

which on this occasion flowed loosely down her back, leaving free her

arms, but which, at needs be, became a cloak covering the upper parts of

her body entirely. Her under dress was of woollen material and

tight-fitting, whilst her sandals had a stout sole of leather with

toe-piece and overstraps of prepared deer skin. Accompanying this fair

girl was a favourite maid, and one of her father's housecarles who

filled the office of ranger and provider for the household, in the

matters of fish and game. At his heels there followed a couple of dogs,

whilst on his left arm there perched a falcon with all his furniture on.

On Ethel's arm also there perched another falcon, ready for flight.

"Let the dogs go now, Bretwul, for we should have good sport hereabouts,

and have a capital view of it too, on this hillside," said the maiden.

At a word of encouragement from Bretwul the dogs, with wagging tails,

immediately clapped nose to ground, and commenced threading in and out

amongst the gorse and brushwood to start the game. Presently a loud

fluttering of wings and a scream, sent the hawks into a violent

agitation, and a handsome-plumaged pheasant took to wing. Ethel

immediately whipped off the hood of her hawk, and quick almost as a

flash of lightning it covered the helpless quarry. Then down it swooped,

and a struggling mass of feathers and mingled plumage came fluttering to

the ground.

"Oh, that is wretchedly poor, Bretwul!" exclaimed Ethel impatiently. "I

like a good long chase which puts master Grey-eye thoroughly upon his

mettle. Such sluggard creatures as that one are poor sport. Come, let us

climb higher, for amid yon gorse and bracken on the hill we shall meet

with partridge, moorfowl, or perhaps, better still, a woodcock. Then we

shall test the mettle of little Grey-eye." So together they clambered

through the brackened steep, until they reached the fringe of the

heather which crowned the brow of the hill. Soon they espied a covey of

grouse racing along before them stealthily amid the cover; but promptly

these sprang aloft with whirring sound of wing, and loud, peculiar

cries. Ethel again unhoods her favourite falcon, Grey-eye, and flings

him towards the game. But the falcon has another matter in hand than

that of bringing down a sluggard pheasant; for moorfowl, when fairly on

the wing, scud along like the wind. Immediately also when they perceived

the enemy in pursuit they changed their tactics, and, quitting the

mountain side, made a dart for the valley, where shelter was to be had.

Plump and heavy, the descent suits them more than the falcon; and with

impetuous whirl they rush along with incredible speed. It seems as

though the hawk will never head them! The valley is reached, and the

moorfowl, flying low, are hidden from view by the tops of the trees; but

the hawk can be seen scudding along above them.

"Oh, my poor Grey-eye, you are beaten this time, I do believe!" cried

Ethel. But just at that moment there was an arrow-like swoop. "Bravo!"

she shouted. "He has struck his quarry, for he never swoops to miss!

Come along, Bretwul, or he will gorge himself, and then he will fly no

more to-day, the greedy little glutton!" Then away she raced down the

rough declivity, leaving her maid panting and trembling far behind.

"There she goes! there she goes! Plague on the girl!" ejaculated

Bretwul. "Did ever mortal see such a girl? She's like a two-year-old

filly that has never had bit in mouth or harness to back; and if she

throw out a splint or strain a fetlock, why then the old thane will

cozen my back with a cudgel, and call me a lazy lout of a churl. Come

along, Eadburgh, my buxom lass, I have finished my wattled cote in the

dell yonder, and if we come well out of this, we'll get the girl to

wheedle the master for us, and then it will be done in a twinkling; for

he's ready enough when Dame Ethel lays on the butter." So together they

stumbled after their mistress with might and main.

But the girl mood was uppermost in the damsel now, and away she flew

down the hill with her long hair streaming behind her, giving never a

thought to man or maid. She came to a halt, however, when she reached

the spot where apparently Grey-eye had made his swoop. But not a trace

of either falcon or victim was to be seen. In vain she blew a tiny

silver whistle with which she was wont to call her hawks. There was no

response. "The greedy fellow is gorging himself I doubt not, Bretwul,"

cried Ethel impatiently. "If you feed him before flying he is too lazy

to exert himself, and if he hunt on an empty stomach he must needs turn

glutton after this fashion."

At that moment the clear blast of a hunter's horn in the distance broke

upon the ears of the three seekers, and Ethel, hastily turning in the

direction, exclaimed, "Oh, dear me! Eadburgh, straighten my hair for me,

quick. Do I look a gowk? Do be quick! Straighten my cloak out. Those

gallant gentlemen are returning who would not let me take part in the

boar hunt because I was a _girl_, honest Beowulf was pleased to say. But

Master Oswald was no better, though he has spent so much time about the

court, and, I am told, carried off the Queen's favour at the tilt ground

at Westminster, and that too against the picked squires of Normandy. I

suppose I was only a _girl_ in his eyes too, though he was not pleased

to say it, like Beowulf. Never mind, I will let them see I can amuse

myself, and find good sport too, without them."

Presently a couple of horsemen issued from the forest, clad in hunters'

attire, with a green baldric over their shoulders and down to their

waists, from which was suspended a hunter's horn. These two were quickly

followed by a retinue of rangers, serving men, and hounds, with the

weapons of the chase--boar spears, javelins, and short swords; whilst

over the backs of a couple of horses were thrown the carcasses of a pair

of wild boar, the fruit of their morning's chase.

No sooner did these young chieftains set eyes on Ethel than the

countenance of the younger of them was wreathed in smiles, and snatching

his bugle from his belt he blew a mocking blast in the ear of the

damsel; then, in the blandest of tones, and with an assumption of mock

gallantry, he saluted the maiden: "Bon matin, madame. Are you taking a

little _gentle_ exercise in company of your maid?" and he doffed his

hunter's bonnet and made a most pretentious bow.

"I beg your pardon, gallant sir," retorted Ethel, with a gracious

inclination, parodying with inimitable grace and humour his mock

gallantry, "but if it please you, sir, I am not taking a little _gentle_

exercise in company of my maid, I am hawking, as you may easily see if

you care to."

"Oh, I see quite easily, madame. So you determined to have a little

sport all to yourself because we disdained the company of a lady at our

boar hunt?" said the young man, with a twinkle in his eye.

"You have hit it quite wonderfully, sir; which is very remarkable. We

take note of your behaviour, for, although we do not go to court, we

hear about your pranking it about with grand Norman dames and knights

errant, and we expected something quite different from you than from

Beowulf here. But I have lost my hawk hereabouts, so make amends for

your past conduct. Get down, brother Beowulf; and you too, sir; you have

travelled in France, so show your chivalry and your gallantry by getting

down and helping me seek my hawk."

"I bow most humbly to your imperious commands, noble lady," said Oswald

again, doffing his bonnet in mock humility.

Meanwhile, honest Beowulf sat almost dumbfounded whilst this passage of

wit was proceeding, though he only dimly comprehended what this

new-fangled jargon meant; but his choler was rising rapidly during the

process. "Now, drop it fooling, you two!" he at length broke out. "You,

Ethel, would imitate Master Oswald and be off to court too, for all your

japes and jokes about his pranking and parading it with the grand folks,

if we did not tie a clog about your neck for you. I know very well what

passes in that jay's noddle of yours, though you think I'm a numskull,

Mistress Ethel."

This outburst of sturdy Beowulf's was greeted by the pair with a shout

of hilarious laughter.

"Now don't make asses of yourselves," grunted brother Beowulf.

"Whereabouts did you lose your hawk, Ethel?"

"Why, hereabouts, Beowulf. Did you not hear me? He was pursuing moorfowl

from the hill, and he appeared to strike his quarry just in this place."

"If that be so, I warrant the headlong flight of the stricken bird would

carry them much farther down the slope," said Oswald.

"A bright idea, I do declare, Master Oswald," exclaimed Ethel. "We never

thought of that, Bretwul. You will gain some repute for wit, neighbour

Oswald, if you brighten up like this."

"I am much obliged for your condescension, lady; I feel highly honoured

and greatly flattered by your compliment;" and again he made pretence of

a low obeisance.

"Oh, don't take it too seriously, sir; but we will take your hint,

nevertheless." So the party extended their search, and presently they

discovered the falcon and his prey beneath a tree--the hawk having

improved the time by stripping the bird of its plumage, and gorging

himself with the flesh and blood of his victim.

"There, you greedy creature," exclaimed Ethel, as she set eyes on the

falcon. "You will fly no more to-day, I suppose, you glutton! I think

you had better hood him at once, Bretwul, and take him home; and I will

join this party of gallants--by their permission, of course--and if they

should now deem it quite safe for a lady to do so."

So the two young chieftains and Ethel headed the company, and steadily

they pressed homeward to the rough and primitive, but nevertheless

hospitable hall of Beowulf the Dane.

The Last of the Vikings · 第 1 / 45 章