Henty George Alfred
Wulf the Saxon: A Story of the Norman Conquest
They had but just returned, when they heard a sharp sound like the cracking of a stick a short distance in front. A dozen of the sentries at once challenged. In an instant a number of figures sprang to their feet at a distance of some fifty yards in front of them. Then a wild yell was raised, and swarms of men came rushing towards them, while a volley of arrows and javelins whizzed through the air.
"Fall back on the others, men!" Wulf shouted at the top of his voice, and the line of sentries rushed back to Beorn's party, who leapt to their feet at the sound of the Welsh war-cry. They had scarce formed in line when the enemy were upon them. They received them with a volley of javelins, and then shield to shield they withstood the attack They were fighting in their own way now, and numerous as the Welsh were, they were unable, as they ran up in scattered order, to break through the line.
"Steady, men, steady!" Wulf shouted out from his post in the middle of the line. "Our friends will soon be up. Show a stout front. Do not give way a foot."
In vain the Welshmen, with wild yells, strove to beat back the Saxon line. Their very numbers were a hindrance to them. Those in front pressed forward, so that those behind were unable to use their javelins or arrows. Many creeping between the legs of the fighters of the front rank leapt with a cat-like spring upon the Saxons, and strove to rip them with their knives, but the light wicker-work shields covered with leather, which had taken the place of the solid and heavy ones generally carried by the housecarls, stood Wulf's followers in good stead; and although many of the shields were penetrated by the knives of the Welsh, they in most cases effectually screened the bodies of the soldiers.
The lightly-armed Welsh, on the other hand, were hewn down by the long swords of the Saxons in the front rank, while the javelins of those behind them flew with terrible effect among their assailants. There was, however, no pause in the fury of the attacks of the Welsh, until, with a great shout, the main body of the Saxons came up, and pressed forward in line with the little body who had hitherto borne the brunt of the battle, while on their flank the thane's levies poured in volley after volley of darts and arrows. The fight ceased as suddenly as it began. The sound of a deep-toned horn rose in the air, whereupon the Welsh instantly abandoned the struggle, and before the Saxons had time to realize that the fighting was over, they had disappeared in the forest.
"By St. Peter, young thanes!" Earl Gurth exclaimed as he came up to Wulf's band, who were panting from their exertions, "you have saved us from a grievous mishap this night. I take shame unto myself that I treated your suggestion so lightly; for, by the saints, we should have fared badly indeed had this wild foe taken us asleep. The thanks of the whole force are due to you, and I will take care that my brother Harold knows how narrow an escape we have had, and in telling the tale I shall not spare either myself or the older thanes, who were disposed to mock your proposal to keep guard over the camp, as showing an amount of caution altogether unnecessary. The attack has been a lesson to me that I shall not forget, and henceforth I shall select you and your force for any special service requiring watchfulness and valour."
In going among their men Wulf and Beorn found that but six had fallen, for the most part under the shower of javelins with which the Welsh had heralded their attack. Many of the others had received wounds more or less severe, but few of them were so badly hurt as to render it necessary to leave them behind. Gurth called the thanes at once to a council. Fresh wood was thrown on to his fire, and some twenty of the thanes took their places round it. Wulf and Beorn were specially asked by Gurth to attend. The attack of the Welsh had shown that they were by no means dismayed at the extent of the preparations for the invasion of their mountains, and that the advance must be conducted with the greatest caution and prudence.
"It is well," Gurth said, "that in the absence of Griffith they have many leaders, and will therefore fight without any general plan. Did their whole force fall upon one or other of our columns it might go very hard with it; but we may be sure that each chief will desire to keep his followers by him, in order to defend his own valleys. Nevertheless, they have shown to-night that they can gather rapidly and in considerable force, and we shall have to root them out piecemeal, and shall not be able to scatter our force too widely. I am told that the valley at whose mouth we now are contains a large number of villages, and to this we must confine ourselves until we have done the work there. I trust that they will oppose us stoutly. In that case we shall have the less trouble with them when we come to undertake the more difficult task of pursuing them among their hills."
The next morning the advance began, and they had proceeded but a short distance when the Welsh again poured down upon them. This time the force was prepared for the attack, and although the Welsh fought obstinately, they were driven back without much difficulty. As soon as the attack ceased Gurth gave the order for pursuit, and the housecarls held their course straight up the valley at full speed, while the levies swarmed up the hillsides to prevent the Welsh from rallying and attacking in flank. The troops now felt the benefit of the abandonment of their heavy armour and weapons, and pressed so hotly upon the flying Welsh that they entered the first village with them. For a time the natives turned and fought desperately in defence of their homes, but they were unable to withstand the skill and discipline of the Saxon troops, and the measure that they had so frequently dealt out to the Saxon villagers now fell on them. No quarter was given. Every man, woman, and child was slaughtered, and the houses given to the flames. Village after village was captured and burnt, but the resistance became fainter and fainter, and the last three villages at the head of the valley were found to be entirely deserted. Then, just as the sun set, the force bivouacked for the night, the horns calling in the scattered levies, who gradually rejoined them.
The next morning the force was broken up into five or six columns, each having a proportion of the regular soldiers and a body of the levies. These penetrated side valleys and climbed the hills. In many cases they encountered resistance, stones being rolled down upon them, and the Welsh defending strong barricades of felled trees. But everywhere the Saxons were successful, and day after day continued the work, until at the end of five days they were able to move where they would without encountering any resistance. The force now marched forward from the head of the valley, crossed a range of hills, and descended into another valley. They had now grown more confident in themselves, and while a third of the force proceeded to lay waste the valley, the rest, broken up into small columns, ascended the hills on either side, carrying fire and sword into every hamlet they came upon.
Several of the fortalices of the Welsh chiefs, perched on almost inaccessible eminences, gave great trouble, and were only taken after serious loss. One day Beorn and Wulf, with their own following and two hundred and fifty light-armed levies, were despatched by Gurth to Porthwyn, a stronghold belonging to a powerful chief named Llewellyn ap Rhys.
"It is, from all I hear," he said, "a very strong place, and will require all our force to capture it. Indeed it is reported to be so strong that it may be necessary to leave it unmolested until we form a junction with Harold, and can besiege it regularly. It would not do to make an unsuccessful attack, for that would raise the spirits of the Welsh. All that I wish of you is to obtain a view of the castle from all sides if possible, to bring me back an exact account of its defences, and to give me your opinion as to our chances of capturing it if we decide to lay siege to it."
Porthwyn was forty miles distant, and Beorn and Wulf determined to march some thirty of these, and then to push forward at daybreak so as to obtain a view of the fortress in the early morning. They took with them a Welsh boy as a guide. He had been spared in the last village captured, and had been told that his life depended upon his guiding them faithfully. The places of ten men who had fallen during the various fights had been filled up by an equal number of Gurth's own housecarls. The seventy soldiers kept with their leaders and the guide, the levies spreading out on either side.
Two of the irregulars who spoke a little Welsh accompanied the young thanes to question the guide if necessary. The march was a heavy one. At times they passed through thick forests in the valleys and on the lower hillsides, at times crossed over bare hills, on whose summits the ground was frequently so boggy that the men had to march with the greatest caution. The guide, a sullen lad with matted hair, whose only attire was a sheep-skin, was several times questioned sharply as to whether he was certain of the way. He answered in monosyllables, saying that he knew every foot of the road, and indeed he never hesitated for a moment.
"I suppose he is right," Wulf said, "although I thought it lay more to the west than we are going, but we have wound about so among these forests and hills that I am quite confused. There is one comfort, Beorn, if the guide proves treacherous and we lose ourselves altogether, we have but to set our faces to the rising sun and we shall find ourselves back on the border, for I am sure that we could not retrace our steps to Gurth's camp."
The sun was just setting when they found themselves on a bare plateau on the crest of a range of hills higher than any they had before crossed.
"Ask him how far we are from Porthwyn," Wulf said to the interpreter.
"He says twelve miles, my lord."
"Then when we get across this flat, which looks full two miles wide, we will camp in the first valley we come to."
As they advanced the ground became more and more boggy, and the troops had to move carefully, stepping from one tussock of coarse grass to another, the intervals being filled with black slimy mud.
"Ask him if this gets deeper," Beorn said angrily, "for if it does so we are like to be all swallowed up. I believe he must be leading us wrong."
Osgod had charge of the boy, and was walking close beside him. As the question was put by the interpreter the boy muttered that he knew the way. The man turned to translate his answer to Beorn, when there was a sudden shout. At the moment that Osgod was making a long step from one tuft to another the boy stooped and caught his foot, and with a roar of surprise and fury Osgod fell head-foremost into the morass. At the same moment the lad darted away with a yell of defiance, leaping from tuft to tuft with the agility of a hare. Several of the men started after him, but unaccustomed to the treacherous bog four or five were immersed in it to their waist before they had gone a dozen paces.
"Shoot! shoot!" Beorn shouted, and a dozen javelins were thrown, but the boy was almost beyond distance, and his rapid and irregular movements rendered it well-nigh impossible to take aim with any accuracy. Most of the javelins flew wide of him, and he was soon beyond reach. Osgod was well-nigh smothered before he could be rescued, and some of the other men were only hauled out with the greatest difficulty. Three or four of the most active men were sent forward, but presently returned with the news that the bog became worse.
"The sun has already set," Wulf said, "and if darkness catches us here our plight will be a bad one. Let us retrace our steps at once, Beorn."
It was with great difficulty that they made their way back to firm ground. By the time they did so darkness had fallen.
"This is a bad business altogether, Beorn," Wulf said. "In the first place we have lost our guide; in the second place we have no idea where we are, for we may for aught we know have been going in the wrong direction all the time; and, besides this, the boy will raise the country against us, and in the morning we may be attacked by an overwhelming force."
"What do you think we had better do, Wulf?"
"Well, I should say we had better, in the first place, retrace our steps to the valley, there we will light fires and cook the meat we have brought with us. Then I should say we had best march for some hours. It matters not in what direction so that we get as far as possible from here."
As Beorn could suggest nothing better, Wulf's counsel was carried out. Supper was cooked and eaten in the forest, and after two hours for rest, for the march had been a very fatiguing one, they started. The night was moonless, and in the shadow of the trees the darkness was intense. The housecarls kept together, moving as closely as possible to each other. The levies were ordered to follow them.
After proceeding for two hours, Wulf said, "Let us halt and see if we are all together." The housecarls halted, but when he went to the rear Wulf could see no signs of the irregulars.
"Let no man speak or move," he said, "I want to listen."
But no sound broke the stillness of the wood.
"How foolish of Oswald and Edred," he said to Beorn.
"We told them to follow with their levies close behind us, and they must have allowed them to fall to the rear. However, they can't be far behind."
They waited for half an hour, but the silence continued unbroken.
"Do you shout, Osgod," Wulf said; "they ought to hear miles away on a still night like this."
Osgod—who had scarcely spoken since his fall, so furious was he at having been outwitted by a boy, and having not only allowed him to escape, but being himself rolled in the mire—raised his voice in a tremendous shout. All listened intently, but no answering sound came back.
"They must have gone altogether wrong," Wulf said. "You know that we crossed a streamlet that ran into this brook soon after we started. They must have followed that up, thinking we had done so, and have gone up some other valley. What is to be done, Beorn?"
"We crossed that streamlet half an hour after starting," Beorn said, "and as we have spent half an hour here they must have by this time marched up it two-hours' journey, and if we retrace our steps to that point they will have got an hour and a half farther away; besides, they may have gone back when they missed us. There is no saying which way to look for them. I think we had better go on as before. In the morning we shall be able to see the nature of the country, but to look for people who may be miles and miles away, when one cannot see one's own hand, would be but lost time and labour, and methinks we shall have need to husband all our strength before we get out of the scrape into which we have fallen. If the two thanes had obeyed orders and kept closer this would not have happened. They have lost us by their own carelessness, and must manage as they can. We shall have all our work to do to look out for ourselves. Seventy men lost in the heart of these savage hills, which by to-morrow morning will swarm with Welsh, have but a poor chance of ever seeing the English border again."
"It is not so bad as that, Beorn. I do not say that we are not in an unpleasant position, but at any rate we are a great deal better off than we were when we were driving headlong on to the coast of Normandy, or when there were but three of us in the midst of the Bretons. They have to find us in the first place, and it will need a good many of them to overcome us when they do. I fancy that we are very near the head of this valley, the ground is rising rapidly. I propose that we push on now till the trees cease, and lie down there till morning breaks, and then cross the next hill so as to find shelter in some other valley before the sun is fairly up. From the top of the hill we may get a general view of the country, and shall have some idea as to the course to take. We must first of all try to find a native who can tell us which is the direction of Porthwyn and how far it lies away. Our orders are to reconnoitre it and that must be done before there is any question of return. Even if I were absolutely alone, I would carry out that order."
Beorn was silent for a minute, and then said doubtfully, "Perhaps you are right, Wulf; but when Gurth gave us the order he gave us more than three hundred men to carry it out, and we have now but seventy."
By this time they were on their way up the valley, followed by their men.
"The fact that two hundred and fifty men have left us really makes the matter easier than it would otherwise have been," Wulf said. "Of course our guide carried the news of our coming straight to Porthwyn, and it is like enough that fires are at present blazing on the hills. The larger division is more likely to be seen than ours, and to be attacked, and we shall have all the more chance of getting up unobserved. I sincerely trust that the thanes, when they discover that they have lost us, will at once lead their men back to Gurth's camp. In that case they may escape before the Welsh can assemble and attack them; and as it would naturally be supposed that as soon as we had lost our guide we retreated in a body, the Welsh will imagine that there is no occasion for further vigilance."
"You are always too full of arguments for me, Wulf," Beorn laughed; "and if you have made up your mind to go on, it is not of the least use my saying anything against it; so have your own way."
At last the forest became less dense, and when they reached its edge they lay down. Wulf slept for two or three hours, and then roused himself and waited for the first sign of dawn. It was a heavy responsibility, for though Beorn was of equal rank with himself he always gave way to his opinion. He thought over whether it would not be better that Beorn should march with all speed with the force to the east, and that he himself with Osgod and perhaps two other men should make their way to Porthwyn; already the Welsh might be out all over the mountains, and it was the larger body that would be likely to be discovered and attacked. The Welsh would know that on such a dark night, and in a strange country, they could not have got a very long distance from the bog where the guide had escaped from them, and the valley at whose head he now was would be the first place to be searched. However, he did not like severing himself from the men who had marched under his banner from Steyning, and he finally determined that the whole should stay together. It was about half-past two when he roused the band, and they at once started up the bare hillside.
"As it gets lighter," he said, "scatter and proceed singly. We shall be far less likely to be noticed by anyone at a distance than if we march together in a solid body. We must travel as fast as possible, so as to get under shelter again before the sun is really up."
The men were all by this time well accustomed to climbing and hardened by exercise, and at a rapid pace they breasted the hill, although it was in some places exceedingly steep. By the time they reached its crest there was light enough to permit of a view of the country round. In all directions hills rose around them, bare and brown, and the growing light in the sky showed that the east lay behind them. After waiting for a minute or two to recover breath, they proceeded at a brisk trot. They met with no bogs of importance, and after running for a mile the ground began to slope downwards again, and they saw below them a wooded valley, similar to that which they had left. By this time the hilltops were all lit up by the rising sun. The spot where they stood, however, was still in shadow, and in scattered order they ran rapidly down the hillside until they reached the cover of the trees.
