Rarely had a spring occurred so dry as that of 1069. With the
beginning of March dry winds set in from the east, no rain fell,
and the watercourses shrank to summer proportions.
All that winter Hugo de Malville had mourned in hopeless grief the
loss of his boy--his only child; but at length grief deepened into
one bitter thirst--a thirst for revenge.
That the Dismal Swamp protected the objects of his hatred from his
sword he felt well assured; and had the frost been keen enough to
render the marshes penetrable, he would have risked all in a
desperate attempt to root out the vermin, as he called the poor
natives, from the woods.
But frost alternated with thaw, and snow with rain, and no attempt
was likely to be attended with success; so he waited and added
compound interest to his thirst for vengeance.
At length set in the dry and fierce winds of which we have spoken,
and he felt secure of his prey at last; so preparations were at
once made for a grand battle in the marshes.
The keen winds continued, and the scouts reported that the swamp
was drier than they had ever seen it before. At length April
arrived, and with its earliest days--days of bright sunshine--it
was decided to delay no longer, but to explore the marshes with the
whole force of the barony, strengthened by recruits from the
castles of the neighbouring Norman nobles who willingly lent their
aid, and hastened to share the sport dearest of all to the Norman
mind.
But one thing was necessary to secure success--a guide, and how to
procure one was the riddle which puzzled Hugo, both by day and
night.
No Norman could help them; but might not some Englishmen serve, not
as willing tools, but under the compulsion of force and the dread
of torture?
There were no English in the domains of the baron; all had fled
into the forest who were yet alive. There were, it is true, native
woodmen in other parts of the wilderness; but they were not vassals
of Hugo, and one and all had repeatedly disclaimed knowledge of
that part of the forest which was to be explored.
In his perplexity Hugo offered great rewards to anyone who would
discover any of the former people of Aescendune and bring them
before him.
Leaving Hugo and his friends to concert their murderous plans, we
must invite the reader to accompany us once more to freedom's home,
the Dismal Swamp.
A council was being held at this selfsame time, which materially
assisted the schemes of the baron, although not greatly to his
ultimate gratification.
It was held around the fire in the same farmhouse in which poor
Eadwin had met his death, and which had now become the headquarters
of the outlaws whom Norman tyranny had made.
Wilfred, young although he was, presided--for was he not the
representative of the ancient lords of Aescendune, and those
gathered around him the descendants of the men whom his fathers had
often led to victory?
On his right sat Haga, the oldest retainer of his house, a man who
at the beginning of the century had actually fought with Alfgar
against the Danes; on his left, Boom, the ancient forester of the
Aescendune woods--as moderns would say, "the head keeper."
And there were Sexwulf and Ulf, Tosti and Elfwold, Ernulph and
Ordgar, Oslac and Osgood, Wulfsy and Ringulph, Frithgist and
Wulfgar--men whose names sounded rough and uncouth in Norman ears,
but were familiar enough to the natives.
The whole party having assembled, Wilfred, as a consequence of his
rank, spoke first and opened the debate.
"We have all come together tonight, Englishmen and friends, to
consider what we shall do in a very grave crisis--the gravest which
has yet occurred since we fled to this refuge from the Norman
tyrant Hugo--whom may the saints confound. The thrall, Oslac,
imperilling his life for our sake, has been to Aescendune, and
brings us back certain information that there is a great gathering
of men and horse to explore the swamp, for they guess shrewdly that
we are hidden here, and they know now who burnt their farms and
slew their men in the woods--thus making them afraid, the cowards,
to venture therein save in large parties.
"But since the old bear has lost his cub, his thirst for vengeance
incites him to stake all upon one grand attempt to penetrate our
fastnesses, and the dryness of the season seems to him to make it
possible."
"Our pools and sloughs are never quite dry--they are bottomless,"
said Beorn, "and you might stow away the castle of Aescendune in
some of them, and 'twould sink out of sight."
"But it is our object to foil his good intentions towards us:
sooner or later we must fight him, and why not now? Haga, my
father, thou art the oldest and wisest here present; speak, and we
will be guided by thy counsel."
"Let the Norman come," said the sage solemnly; "he shall perish in
his pride."
"In what manner shall he die?"
"By the death meet for the sacrilegious destroyer of the priory--by
fire--it is God's will, revealed to me in visions of the night."
"Fire? how?" cried several; then one common idea seemed to strike
them all.
"The reeds. Once entangled in the marshes, we might fire them all
round."
"But how shall we get him to enter the marshes where the dry rushes
are thickest?"
"There is a bed of rushes and weeds half a mile across, around the
heron's pool, and it is now so dry just there, that it would bear
the accursed foe, horses, and armour, could they be enticed to
follow the path which traverses it."
"Who shall entice them and prevail?" said Beorn.
"Will any of our men risk their own lives and volunteer as guides
to the Normans? They are seeking guides everywhere."
There was a dead silence. At length a man arose--Ordgar, son of
Haga.
"I will take my life in my hand to deliver my people from the
tyranny of this Norman wolf."
"God bless thee, my son," said his aged sire; "thou art the light
of mine eyes, but I can risk thee in thy country's cause and the
cause of the House of Aescendune."
"It is a holy cause," said Father Kenelm, who was present: "God's
arm is bared for vengeance--the blood of my martyred brethren cries
aloud from beneath the altar."
"And thou wilt say a mass for us?"
"It is my duty, since I may not fight with carnal weapons."
"But, Ordgar, how dost thou propose to act?"
"They are scouring the woods daily, in search of some of us poor
English, whom they may force by torture to be their guides. I will
throw myself in their way."
"They will not harm thee, my son; they are too eager for a guide
who knows the paths through the swamp."
"But thou must not appear too willing," said Beorn.
"Trust me for that; I will not promise to serve them till I have at
least seen their torture chamber."
"Ordgar, thou dost indeed show a spirit worthy of an Englishman;
and while such live, I shall never despair of my country," said the
youthful chieftain. "Should God restore me to the halls of my
fathers, none shall be more honoured of his lord than thou; and
shouldest thou fall, fear not but that English bards will be found
to sing thy praises."
A few days later Hugo was scouring the forest like a wolf in search
of his prey. His men-at-arms were scattered through the woods,
seeking for tracks of men. Huge dogs attended them, who were
encouraged to explore every thicket.
They were near the Dismal Swamp.
All at once a dog gave the peculiar whine which indicated that he
had found scent, and immediately afterwards started forward, his
nose to the ground, followed by two or three others.
The men-at-arms followed, and Hugo amongst his retainers.
Suddenly they broke into open view of the chase--a man was seen
running before them for his life.
The dogs gave tongue and followed him so swiftly that it was with
difficulty he could escape their fangs by climbing a tree.
It was a poor refuge--dogs and Normans were speedily at the foot.
"Come down, fellow," said Hugo, sternly, "unless thou desirest to
be brought down by an arrow."
"Mercy, mercy," cried the fugitive.
"What dost thou fear? If thou art a true man no harm shall befall
thee. We are not robbers."
The Englishman, for such he was, descended, and was at once secured
and bound to prevent his escape.
"Now, fellow," said Hugo, "who art thou? Whose vassal art thou?"
"My name is Ordgar, son of Haga."
"Haga, formerly a thrall of my estate?"
"The same."
"Where is thy accursed sire?"
"I cannot betray my father."
"This is the very man we want!" said Hugo; "bring him along. The
torture will soon help him to find a tongue. Surely the saints have
heard our prayers and given him to us."
A quaint idea of sanctity, that of Hugo.
They dragged the intended victim forward through the woods. Once or
twice he appeared to make desperate efforts to escape, but we need
not say made them in vain.
We must shift the scene to the torture chamber.
Imagine a long dark room, below the level of the ground, underneath
the keep; stone flags below, a vaulted ceiling above; dimly lighted
by torches fixed in sconces in the wall; a curtain covering a
recess; in front, a chair for Hugo and a table for a scribe, with
ink horn and parchment.
Around the table were gathered Hugo himself, his guests Raoul de
Broc, Tustain de Wylmcote, Ralph de Bearleigh, his seneschal,
chamberlain, and other confidential officers of his household, and
four strong brawny men-at-arms--sufficient to manage the prisoner
with ease.
Ordgar, son of Haga, stood alone at the foot of the table, before
all this hostile array.
"Villain," said Hugo (the name only imported serf), "thy name?"
"I have told thee, Ordgar, son of Haga."
"Thou art a vassal of Aescendune?"
"I was."
"And art: my rights over thee cease not."
"I do not acknowledge thee as my lord."
"Thou mayst think better of it anon. Now thou wilt please answer my
questions.
"Scribe, take down his replies."
"He will not fill much parchment."
"We shall see.
"Where hast thou been hiding from thy lawful master?"
"I have not been hiding from my lawful lord."
"Fool, dost thou bandy words with me? Answer."
"In the woods, then."
"What woods?"
"The forests around thee."
"Dost thou know the Dismal Swamp?"
"Well."
"Hast thou been hiding there?"
"Yes."
"How many of thy comrades are in hiding at that place?"
"I may not tell thee."
"Behold. Tormentor, remove the curtain."
The curtain was drawn back, and revealed a strange assortment of
those implements by which man, worse than the beast of the field,
has sinned against his fellow. There were the rack, the brazier
with its red-hot pincers, the thumbscrew, and, in short,
instruments--happily unknown now--in the greatest variety; all
intended to wring the truth from crime, or worse, the self-condemning
falsehood from the lips of helpless innocence {xiv}.
"Wilt thou answer?"
"I will not betray the innocent."
"Seize him, tormentors."
'Twas said and done, and after a short and furious struggle, the
victim was laid on the rack.
"Turn."
The tormentors, clad in leathern jerkins, hideous with masks to
hide their brutal faces, turned the handles which worked pulleys
and drew the victim's limbs out of joint.
"Hold--enough--I will confess."
"Release him."
"What dost thou ask me?"
"How many are there in the Dismal Swamp?"
"Maybe a hundred."
"Thou art trifling with me; I see we must put thee on the rack
again."
"Nay, thou wouldst force me to deceive thee; there cannot be many
more."
"Who is their leader?"
"Haga, son of Ernulph."
"Thy father?"
The victim seemed resolved to say no more.
"Place him on the rack again."
But the fortitude of the captive did not seem equal to the last
supreme trial.
"Hold!" he cried, "I will confess all."
He owned that his father Haga was the leader of the outlaws, and
being interrogated eagerly by the baron about Etienne, stated that
the latter was detained as a prisoner in the Swamp, in case they
should need a hostage.
"God be thanked!" said Hugo.
He could yet take that holy name on his murderous lips, and sooth
to say he did feel gratitude.
The next step was to persuade Ordgar to guide the Normans through
the Dismal Swamp to the English settlement. A fresh application of
the torture seemed needed to secure this desirable end, but the
victim yielded when the pain was about to be renewed--yielded to
the weakness of his own flesh, combined with a promise from the
baron that his father should not only be spared, but restored to
the little farm he had, formerly occupied at Aescendune, under the
last English thane.
In short, the bargain was concluded, and Ordgar, son of Haga,
became the promised guide of the foes of his country.