SIGURD THE VIKING.
"Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel; but being in,
Bear 't that the opposed may beware of thee."
Shakespeare.
Hanging-Brow Scaur, to which allusion has been made, is a huge peak
towering high above the Pennine Range, out of which it springs. A rude
cultivation obtains to its very summit--such a cultivation as the bleak
winds and perpetual cold permit. Ere the advent of the Normans small
mountain sheep with the single lamb at their heels had swarmed over its
hoary sides, browsing amid its moistureless grass, nipping the fresh
shoots during the summer time, and retreating to the lowlands at the
advent of winter. The husbandman who reared his humble dwelling beneath
its shoulders had frequent need to beware the cold north wind, the
drifted snow, and not unfrequently the rushing avalanche. A sluggish,
unromantic life was lived, and a precarious livelihood obtained by these
hill-folk. The woods ran up the gorges to the foot of the loftiest peak.
Coming downwards they spread over the tops of the lower hills until,
from gorge to gorge, the forest trees join hands, and an unbroken forest
sweeps downwards, gathering density and luxuriousness until it sweeps
over the valleys and up the sides of the hills beyond. Inexpressibly
lovely especially are these wooded gorges in the summertime, when the
fragrant breath of foliage and flower, of moss and lichen, is in the
nostril, when the music of rushing cataract and waterfall is in the ear.
Buoyant and bracing as an elixir of life is the cool air on these
mountain-sides, when the hot breath of July is enervating the dwellers
in the valley below. How delightful was my task at this season to carry
the consolations of my office to the lonely scattered folk on the hills!
How often have I felt my heart expand with lowly adoration when, from
the lofty summit of Hanging-brow, I have turned my gaze westward, and
far away in the distance my sweep of vision has taken in the coast-line
of the Irish sea; whilst north, and east, and south there lay before me
a mighty vista of hill and dale and rugged peak! Then, how lovely the
magnificent stretch of forest too!--a rich unbroken canopy of green,
many-tinted and beautiful, the oak, the ash, the elm, and many others
blending their various tints in the lowlands; whilst the fir, the pine,
and the mountain-ash belted the forest in the higher reaches. The
fleet-footed red-deer might be seen threading their way through the
tangled undergrowth, or browsing amid the boulders in the clear, keeping
ever a wary eye on the stealthy hunter. Sly Reynard here abounded, and
might be seen gliding warily along; and occasionally his fiercer cousin
the wolf prowled in fierce loneliness; whilst ceaselessly the woods rang
with the songs of her feathered denizens. Birds of rare plumage, too,
and shy, such as the jay, the magpie, the thrush, the curlew, the
wood-pigeon, with many specimens of the hawk family, were here; whilst
the golden eagle wheeled in airy flight round the crown, or moodily
perched on some boulder, while his mate patiently hatched her young in
the fissures of the rocks, which, steep and high, lined the pathway of
the descending waters. But on this eventful day, as the sun reared its
blood-red visage above the horizon, and kissed the mountain peak into a
ruddy twilight, two Saxon warriors, with broadswords by their sides and
battle-axes at their girdles, rounded the peak on the side which
overlooked the castle and broad fertile acres which had been
comparatively cleared around it. Just the dimmest outlines of this scene
were visible; but as the sun mounted higher in the heavens, and his rays
swept down from the hills into the lowest valleys, the whole landscape
was spread in beauty before them. The castle's noble proportions, here
and there also the river's sinuous course, as it threaded in and out
amongst the trees, could be seen; whilst farther down the valley the
gorgeous masonry of the Abbey peeped through the tops of the trees. With
rapt vision, but with very sad hearts, the pair stood together, and
watched the marvellous transformation taking place before them.
"Was ever man called to yield so fair a possession before, Wulfhere?"
said the chieftain to his comrade.
"Well, truly it is a fair spot--finer, I think, than ever I thought it
before. But it may be yours again, and I may get my little patrimony
also. So let us not despair."
"Well, we know not what may happen, but it seems very unlikely at
present. But come, we will go over the summit and consider our plan for
the stronghold. It will be some time yet ere our enemies are astir, I
dare say. The scouts will bring us timely word."
So the pair climbed to the summit, and again considered their plans for
the fortress which had already been decided upon. Now the summit was a
remarkably level plateau of five or six acres in extent. Round the outer
edge of this plateau the ground sank away steep and suddenly for fifty
yards, and it was only by the utmost exertions that a man could scramble
up this last steep brow. The pair walked around the outer fringe
together.
"Well," said Oswald, "the hand of man could never have raised so
impregnable a rampart, and if gallantly manned it can never be carried
by assault. There is but one danger: we may be starved out, for the
provisioning of it is most difficult with our scanty resources."
"It is as you say, my lord, matchless as a site for defence; for the
provisioning we must make strenuous efforts whilst the respite lasts;
and if we can by any means give them this day such a taste of our
quality as we ought to, they will never, unless greatly reinforced,
attempt to force our stronghold."
"How bountiful, Wulfhere, nature has been in providing material for
building. Stones ready to our hand and inexhaustible in quantity, and
timber near to hand also."
At this juncture a horseman was seen coming over the mile of gently
rising ground which stretched away from the forest.
"He bears a message," said Oswald; "come, we will descend and meet him."
By the time they had scrambled to the bottom of the declivity the
horseman drew near, bringing the news that evidently something more than
usual was afoot, by the number of men who were actively mustering at so
early an hour of the morning; this thing being quite an unusual one with
the Normans, who loved to carouse well into the night, and then sleep
off the effects in the morning.
"Well we may be sure, if these besotted louts are moving thus early,
that there is something which has stirred the hornet's nest, so we will
to our rendezvous." Then turning to the scout, he said, "You know the
cave at Deepdale Head?"
"Aye, aye, I know it well!"
"You will find us there from now: keep us well informed, you and your
comrades, so that we may make our dispositions."
Then the two rapidly descended until they came to the head of a deep
gorge, where was one of the many limestone caves to be found in the
district. It had an obscure and unpretentious entrance; but once well
within it, it assumed lofty proportions, and ran away into many cavities
roomy and weird. In past times no one would have dared to enter its
gloomy precincts, as it was considered to be the abode of pixies,
witch-hags, and the powers of evil and darkness generally. But now these
superstitious and ignorant people had dared to force the abode of evil
spirits, rather than face the still more cruel and hated Norman.
Gathered around the entrance to this cave, and sitting on the hillside
were a number of men all armed, and evidently anticipating a conflict
with the enemy. They were a very miscellaneous company, some of them
being fierce, ragged, wild and most unsavoury looking. At the head of
some ten or fifteen was one Sigurd, who had been a chieftain in
Lakesland, some fifty miles distant; but so desperate had been his
conflict with the Normans, and so incessant his attacks and so daring in
character, that the Normans had found it necessary to put in motion
numerous forces to capture or slay this man and his desperate band. This
they had not been able to do; but so incessant had their harrying been,
that he had been driven from his native hills, with the result that this
opportune moment he was found swelling the ranks of Oswald's men.
"Your coming is timely, Jarl," said Oswald. "Men who can wield a sword,
or fling a javelin, as I perceive you and these hardy warriors can, are
doubly welcome at this pinch."
"You are right, master, I am Viking every inch of me; these men are
skalds every one also, so we need not tell you we like the ring of
steel. Give us a corner where there is room to fight and none to fly,
for we like it best."
Just then another horseman hot with haste arrived with the tidings that
the Normans had divided themselves into two bands, and were ascending by
the water-courses. This was as Oswald had anticipated, for these
water-courses alone afforded what by compliment could be considered
continuous paths, the forest being very dense and tangled, and a
hopeless labyrinth. Now the Normans had made the somewhat common but,
nevertheless, often fatal mistake, of underrating the enemy--or rather
the hunted fugitives they sought. It had never occurred to them for a
moment that the Saxons would present a bold front, and even dare an
issue with them in force. They regarded the matter with a very light
heart; although they had had a taste of Oswald's prowess, they believed
that he had but few to stand by him. They little thought as they
scrambled jauntily along up the gorge with no precautions against an
ambush, or sudden assault, that they were forcing the hiding places of
desperate men, who, when hard driven were capable of desperate deeds.
By-and-by the scouts came in bringing definite information as to
numbers, and the routes the Normans were pursuing. They had, as already
said, divided themselves into two parties; each one purposing to
thoroughly scour one of the two paths along the water-courses, and
intending to join together again when the hills should be reached.
Now Sigurd, of whom more anon, had command of one company of the Saxon
forces at the head of one of the ravines, and he was duly apprised of
the number of Normans he would have to contend with. Oswald with
Wulfhere as second in command, had charge of the other contingent, and
they slowly drew away down the ravine to a spot which had been selected
by Oswald for the attack. The most numerous company of the Normans
struck the water-course which Oswald defended. The stream had there
reached the valley where the mighty slit in the mountains down which it
boisterously tumbled had broadened into a lovely dell, green as an
emerald, and studded with flowers. Here the waters moved placidly along;
but the innumerable foam-caps which slowly sailed away on its bosom,
bore ample evidence of its tumultuous descent from the mountains. Here
the Normans drew together and took council with regard to their further
movements. Eventually they took the left bank, and with long and
attenuated ranks they commenced the ascent. All this was duly noted, and
nimble feet carried each several movement speedily to the waiting
Saxons.
The place selected by Oswald was where the limestone rock seemed to be
shorn down with a perpendicular face to the bed of the stream. On the
opposite side Wulfhere with a company of archers were ambushed. The
steep and lofty face of the rocks precluded any possibility of their
being dislodged, whilst the position of the Norman foe across the ravine
would expose them mercilessly to their shafts. Oswald, with some dozen
of the stoutest of his followers, barred the path at a point where it
took an upward trend, and a huge boulder blocked the vision of the
approaching foe. He had also thrown forward a party of men up the steep
and wooded ravine side, in advance of himself, who were completely
obscured by the trees. These were, at the signal, to roll down the
boulders and huge stones which abounded in the rough and scraggy
hillside. The position and the method of attack were matchlessly
planned. If these desperate Saxons only stood each one unflinchingly to
his post, victory was certain, for the enemy was entrapped, and flight
alone could save them.
"Wulfhere," said Oswald, "you understand my plan, I think. The path on
our side is so narrow and rough, the enemy will be obliged to move
pretty nearly in single file. Your men must hide in the brushwood until
I give the signal; then pour into them volleys of arrows. If they should
be seized with panic, which assuredly they will, and beat a headlong
retreat, then rush down, and meet them at the neck of the gorge and cut
off their retreat. Remember, battle-axes are best for the thicket, and
broadswords for the open. Strike swiftly, strike hard, and victory is
certain."
So Wulfhere crossed the stream with his men, and clambered up the steep
bank on the opposite side. Then abreast, but on each side the stream,
the two companies marched downwards. Presently they reached the spot
selected for the attack. The disposition of the men was quickly
effected. Then Wulfhere, keeping in the shelter of the trees, advanced
to the brink of the precipice, where his position commanded a view of
the enemy, who were swarming forward. From thence he could easily hold
converse across the chasm with Oswald, who, with battle-axe firmly
grasped in his right hand, and bronze shield on his left, like a fierce
lion was grimly waiting for his prey; behind him, a dozen stout yeomen,
who from their youth had been taught to wield either weapons of war or
implements of husbandry, men who had proved their valour against both
Norman and Dane on many occasions. As the enemy drew near, their numbers
and every movement was minutely described to Oswald, until they drew so
near that further parleying must cease. Then Wulfhere retired a few
steps into the thicket where his men were lurking, with arrows affixed,
ready for the fray. Meanwhile, the loud oaths, coarse laughter, and
unchecked speech of the Normans told plainly the feelings of contempt
they entertained for the foe, and the little apprehension they had of
the onslaught awaiting them. Soon their scrambling footsteps drew quite
close, amid a death-like stillness in the ranks of the lurking foe. The
Saxon war-cry, "Ahoi!" in thunderous tones burst from the lips of Oswald
and his men. "Ahoi!" shouted Wulfhere's men. "Ahoi!" shouted the men
ambushed aloft. At that instant also, a dozen arrows with deadly aim
came hissing across the defile; down also came the boulders from aloft,
leaping with gathering velocity into the ranks of the foe, whilst Oswald
dashed from behind the boulder, and closed with the Norman leader. Their
gleaming eyes met for a second; the Norman dealt a hurried forceless
blow with his sword, which the Saxon received on his shield; then his
ponderous battle-axe came crashing down with irresistible force. The
Norman interposed his shield, but the axe bore it down and, glancing
therefrom, came full upon his cranium, tearing away his helmet, and
felling him through the shrubs down into the water-course in the bottom
of the glen. As the Normans witnessed the overthrow of their leader,
they were completely panic-stricken, and helplessly huddled together
like sheep, unable to strike a blow. The Saxon dominated the path in
front, cutting down the foremost with marvellous celerity; whilst on one
flank the deadly arrows were being poured into them, and on the other
flank the huge stones clashed through their ranks and decimated their
numbers. This hesitancy lasted but for a minute or two; very speedily
the discomfiture became an abject panic, and each one for himself made a
rush for the valley. The Saxons followed them swiftly, relentlessly, and
cut them off in numbers, as they impetuously rushed away towards the
valley and the castle. At a signal from Oswald, the Saxons ceased their
harrying of the scattered and flying foe, and with swift footsteps they
regained the head of the gorge and over the shoulder of the hills, to
the help of their comrades, who barred the advance of the second band of
Normans.
Now, whilst Oswald, with sagacity and conspicuous valour, had routed one
contingent of the Normans, the sturdy Viking Sigurd, with a dozen of his
own reckless and desperate band, reinforced by less than a score of
Oswald's followers, pressed eagerly on to the fray with the other band
of Normans. Sigurd possessed none of the qualities of generalship,
beyond a desperate and headlong valour, which always bore him into the
thickest of the fight. His personal strength was prodigious, and no
other man could wield his ponderous sword; in a rough and desperate
struggle where strength and valour were everything, and skill of little
avail, he had no equal in all Northumbria. His own followers, too, in
thicket warfare, with their short but heavy swords in one hand, and a
long, gleaming knife or dagger in the other, were unrivalled in such an
encounter as the one they challenged to-day. In Oswald's struggle, the
place and plan of attack had more to do with the complete demoralisation
of the Normans, than the desperate valour with which it was carried out.
In Sigurd's case, it is true, the surprise, the thicket, and the rough
and precipitous ground, were stout allies of his. But otherwise,
everything depended on the vigour and valour of himself and men. Now
Pierre led this second company, and he was a sturdy rogue who had to be
reckoned with when it came to a tussle with weapons; and any one who
counted on Pierre succumbing to panic or to fear would be grievously
mistaken.
On, however, the Normans pressed, like their routed compatriots, never
dreaming that the Saxons would be prepared for them; and, as a matter of
fact, despising them, in any case. Right into the ambush they marched,
recklessly and unheeding. Instantly the Saxon war-cry rends the air, and
the wood is alive with men who frantically hurl themselves upon the
astonished foe. The Normans stagger and reel at the fierce onset, and
some fly, coward-like, without striking a blow. But the presence of mind
and personal bravery of Pierre stands them in good stead at this
juncture. In stentorian tones he shouted, "Notre Dame! Have at the dogs!
Follow me!" And whipping out his sword he headed the onset, laying about
him lustily and encouraging his men. But the burly Viking, Sigurd, finds
none to withstand him, and he makes sad havoc amongst the men-at-arms,
who quail and cower before him; whilst his followers, like mountain
goats, dart from behind trees and boulders, dealing stealthy and
effective strokes, completely nonplussing the Normans with their
organised methods. Pierre quickly perceives, however, that they number
five to one of the Saxons; and, if the burly Viking's arm can be
arrested for ten minutes, victory will come speedily. There is none but
he to do it. So boldly he dashes off on the instant and confronts the
giant. No mean foeman is Pierre in point of physical strength and
courage; but, when to that was added his superb skill in handling his
weapon, he is not to be trifled with, even by so doughty a foe as
Sigurd.
"Ha, ha!" roared the Viking chief, as he witnessed the temerity of this
Norman in courting battle with him, and with reckless vigour he smites
at Pierre. But the Norman plies shield and sword in defence, and
dexterously shifts his ground to get an advantage. In swift succession
the thunder-strokes fall, and gleams of fire dart from Pierre's shield
and sword as he parries the blows. Scathless, however, he endures the
ordeal.
"Bravo, Pierre!" his comrades shouted. "Hold _him_ in play a little
while, and we will make short work of these churls."
Truly everything points to this conclusion, for the Normans have
gathered courage wonderfully, and by sheer numbers the Saxons are being
rapidly overborne. At the instant, however, the Saxon battle-cry, Ahoi!
Ahoi! Ahoi! wakes the echoes in the hills, and Oswald and his men dash
into the flanks of the Normans. The effect is electrical.
Panic-stricken, they fly before the onrush of the avenging Saxons. The
retreat was a regular stampede; and Pierre and his men, along with the
stragglers from the first company, rushed into the castle yard
breathless with haste, never having made attempt to rally.
De Montfort and Vigneau, who had received the former troop with rage and
dismay, were little less than frantic at this double disaster and
ignoble defeat.
"Pierre, you scurvy villain, what is this? I wish thou hadst left thy
ugly carcase with those Saxon dogs yonder, ere thou disgraced thy
calling thus!" roared Vigneau at his henchman.
"You will take care that fat carcase of yours is put in no manner of
danger, master!" rasped out Pierre, in fierce retort.
"How now, villain!" said Vigneau, drawing his sword and advancing on
Pierre. "I'll put a stop to thy unmannerly insolence, dog!"
"Stand back!" said Pierre fiercely, and whipping out his sword. "You
will have to take your chance, mark me, if you put not up that weapon.
I'll have no more of your bullying! My weapon is as good as yours any
day, whether I have won my spurs or no."
"Stop that!" said De Montfort, authoritatively, and stepping between
them. "How is this, Pierre? What has happened?"
"Treachery, my lord! The Saxons were well advised of our purpose, depend
upon it, for they were prepared for us, lying in ambush to receive us.
But in spite of this we should have worsted them; but when we were just
getting the mastery, the Saxon Oswald and fifty others dashed into our
rear and demoralised us entirely. A burly monster, huge as a bull, led
the first company. Look at my shield! cut through in several places by
his weapons. Depend upon it, we were betrayed by some one; they were
evidently awaiting us, everything prepared."
Wonderfully elated and heartened these Saxons were at the day's
successes; for this was the first encounter since the Normans'
disastrous march through the north when, matching force with force, they
had gained so signal a victory. The fame and prowess of Oswald spread
like wildfire amongst the hunted refugees, who were lurking, like beasts
of the forest, in any hiding-place they could find. Salutary also was
the lesson the arrogant and vindictive oppressors learnt, for both their
respect and their fears were marvellously increased by it.