DESPERATE RESOLVES.
"Cowards die many times before their death
The valiant never taste of death but once."
Shakespeare.
"The Saxon cause is lost, Wulfhere, by base-hearted cowardice and
treachery," said Oswald, turning to the stalwart "freeman" already
introduced to the reader. "Look to the rear, though I think the Normans
have had such a taste of our quality that there will be no pursuit for
the present; but henceforth we may look to it, for there will be--unless
I greatly misjudge the Norman king--a bitter revenge exacted from us,
and untempered in the least degree by mercy. We have our broadswords
left to us, and we have proved this day that they have a keen edge and
bite as sharp as ever. We have a few bowmen, also, who can shoot
straight; but for our shelter I fear me we shall have but the dense
forest, and the rugged hills of our native Craven for our defence. But
they are a defence familiar to us, and no battering-ram or assault of
besiegers will avail our foe. Let them drive the wolf to bay if they
dare, and they shall find he has sharp teeth. Well, to me, Wulfhere, a
life of valorous freedom is better than servile slavery and degraded
serfdom."
"I join you there, my lord. A ceorl born, a ceorl for ever. That is my
charter. I will maintain it to the death," said Wulfhere.
The conclusions of Oswald, with regard to the revenge which the Normans
would exact, proved only too true. Like a conflagration, the sanguinary,
mercenary host spread themselves over the northern part of the kingdom,
and desolation and death spread their ghastly wings over the land.
William's aim evidently was to decimate the population, and thus make
any further revolt utterly impossible.
I forbear, however, to enter into the details of the wholesale slaughter
which followed after the Saxons were put to the rout at York, in mercy
to the reader.
So, at the word of command, the followers of Oswald moved away from the
fatal field, with celerity, but in perfect order. The close of the
second day brought them home again. Bitterly sad our hearts were at the
tidings they brought us, and at sight of the thinned ranks of stout and
hardy yeomen who went out from us on this last desperate venture. The
Earl addressed the following words to them, as we stood together in the
monastery grounds: "My trusty followers, my faithful friends,--We have
probably not more than forty-eight hours before we shall be face to face
again with the hated Norman foe--on our own lands, and at the thresholds
of our own homes. Do not let us, because of this short respite, close
our eyes to what will inevitably follow. Neither age nor sex will be
spared, though we should crawl at their feet, and grovel in the dust.
The only thing these Normans will respect is the broadsword, as it
flashes at their breast, or the arrow, glancing unerringly through the
branches of the trees in the forest fastnesses. I advise you to take to
the hills; the caves will form in some respects a shelter for your wives
and little ones. Carry your cattle along with you to the hills and
mountain gorges. Your corn, your cooking utensils--in short, everything
of value and of service--take along with you. There are men here from
every corner of our domain. Tell your neighbours, and make haste; even
the minutes are precious. I shall contrive, if I live, to protect you
for the present, and until my castle is taken you will be absolutely
safe."
As the men moved slowly away to their homes in the distant hamlets,
bearers of the sorrowful news, the Earl turned to Wulfhere.
"Well, Wulfhere, my resolve is taken. I shall not cower before, or
servilely beg for freedom at the hands of the proudest Norman of them
all. Further, I shall not fly over sea, and sell my sword to a foreign
potentate. Yonder, in the distance, I can descry the turrets of my
castle. I was born there, and I shall defend it to the last; and when
driven from it, it will still be a joy to sit on the hillsides and gaze
upon the old home. There are likewise these followers of mine, who have
followed me everywhere and blindly done my bidding. It were dastardly
conduct to give them over now to sanguinary massacre. When, as a boy,
with falcon on my arm and hound at my heel, I hied me o'er these lands,
my faithful yeomen welcomed me everywhere, and their good wives brought
out their daintiest morsel and their sweetest mead. We shall stand or
fall together. Who knows? The Saxon star may some day be in the
ascendant again, and we may push the Normans from our shores. What
sayest thou, Wulfhere?"
"Your purpose, my lord, if I understand you aright, is to defend the
castle so long as you can, and then try to hold the Normans at bay by
means of the shelter which the woods and the hills afford."
"That is my present purpose. I can scarcely hope to hold the castle,
except for a little while, but I may thus materially check the
desolating march of the Normans. But ultimately I look to the woods and
the hills for permanent safety. We are more fortunate than our
countrymen in other parts of the kingdom. If we look to the north we see
the stately Hanging-brow mountain, lifting itself to the sky and girdled
with the clouds, and those dense woods, which, like a vast army
clambering up its sides, will fight for us in our onslaught, and shield
us in our flight. The waters also shed on its brow by the clouds which
nestle well-nigh perpetually on its shoulders, and go leaping down its
sides with the fierceness of a cataract, have ploughed into the
mountain's seamy sides gorges impassable to untrained feet. Look, to the
east a few miles we have the scarcely less remarkable Weirdburn hills.
To the south, Baldby heights. Think also of the dense woods which
everywhere abound in this Craven of ours. Then, like myself, you will
see that in no other part of the land has Nature so combined to shelter
the friendless and protect the oppressed. Further, we are quite two
hundred and fifty miles from London. Though the Normans will come very
surely to despoil the land, William will speedily draw off his forces,
and we shall have but to cope with the Norman who usurps my lands and
castle, holding it probably with a slender garrison. For the present we
are unequal to the task of contending in open warfare with our foe. We
will contend with him with the most effective weapons we possess; and
these are cunning and evasion. There shall be no solid front presented
to him at which he can aim an effective blow. But when the Normans have
overrun the land, and the bulk of them gone hence, then we will present
a bolder front, and assert our right to share the land, and cultivate
the soil."
"What do you purpose in this dire emergency, reverend Father?" said he,
turning to me. "Have you any purpose of defending the Abbey?"
"No, my lord," said I; "we are the disciples of the Prince of Peace, and
we must follow His example. And indeed, carnal weapons would not protect
us if we were minded to use them, and this sacred edifice would suffer
irreparably by our resistance. Perhaps these untamed and bloody men may
have some regard for the sanctity of these walls. We will throw open our
gates to receive them. Those of our servants and followers who prefer to
trust to the woods and the hills, as you advise, are free to do so.
Those who prefer to stay--together with any unhappy fugitives who have
fled hither for shelter--will join the monks in prayers and
supplications, in the sanctuary. Perhaps God will give us favour in the
eyes of our enemies."
"Give us your blessing, Father," said Oswald, falling on his knees and
meekly uncovering his head, all his followers humbly following his
example.
"Adieu, my son," said I, laying my hand upon his head. "May the God of
our fathers nerve thy arm for the protection of thy humbler fellows, and
give thee wisdom and discretion in this terrible day of thy country's
visitation!"
With tearful eyes I watched the receding form of this noble Saxon. No
carnal offspring could be dearer to an earthly parent than he to me. I
had watched over him from infancy, educated him, travelled with him in
many foreign lands; and I hoped he would be a great leader in
statesmanship, in learning, and in all the arts of peace. Now, alas! I
fear circumstance will make him a man of war, and a stern leader of
bloody and desperate men.