Danes, Saxons and Normans Part 9

THE NORMAN ARMAMENT.

All through the summer of 1066, while England was ringing with alarm, Normandy was resounding with preparations; armourers were busy forging weapons and coats of mail; s.h.i.+pwrights were occupied with the construction of vessels; and men were continually employed carrying arms from workshop to port. Everything, meantime, seemed to favour William's project of conquest; and he fixed on a day about the middle of August as the time for his departure.

The mouth of the Dive was appointed as the rendezvous; and there, in good time, William's mighty armament was ready for the enterprise.

Sixty thousand men came to the Norman standard; and the fleet consisted of four hundred s.h.i.+ps and a thousand other vessels, great and small. For a month, however, the winds, proving adverse, detained the fleet in port. An Anglo-Saxon was caught making observations, taken into custody, and carried before William.

"You are a spy," said the duke.

The man, with William's terrible eye upon him, could not muster courage to deny the charge.

"Nevertheless," said the duke, "you shall see everything; though Harold need not trouble himself to ascertain my force; for he shall both see and feel it, ere the year has run its course."

At length a southern breeze sprang up, and the Normans set sail. But they soon found the impossibility of proceeding on their voyage.

Carried as far as the roadstead of St. Valery, at the mouth of the Somme, they were under the necessity of landing and submitting to a further delay.

William's patience was now severely tried. The weather was stormy; rain fell in torrents; some s.h.i.+ps, shattered by the tempest, sank with their crews; and the men began to lose heart. The fearful difficulties that beset the enterprise forced themselves on every mind; and while conversing with each other under their tents, dripping with water, they talked of the s.h.i.+ps that had been lost, and exaggerated the number of the bodies cast ash.o.r.e.

"The man is mad who thus seeks to seize the land of another," said some of the soldiers.

"And, doubtless," suggested others, "G.o.d is offended with such designs, and proves it by refusing us a favourable wind."

Not unaware that such conversations were held, William became uneasy and restless. He plied the men with strong drink to stimulate their courage, and was frequently observed to enter the church of St.

Valery, to remain long in prayer, and to gaze anxiously, as he left the building, at the weatherc.o.c.k that ornamented the belfry.

On Tuesday, the 26th of September, while William was occupied with somewhat sad thoughts, a brilliant idea crossed his brain, and filled his heart with hope. Either prompted by sincere faith, or by a desire to dissipate the gloom that hung over his mighty host, he caused a coffer containing the bones of St. Valery to be taken from the church and solemnly carried through the camp. The duke made rich offerings; every soldier gave his mite; and the adventurers in a body joined in prayer. This ceremony had the effect of calming superst.i.tious fears; and when next morning dawned, it seemed as if their prayers had been answered and a miracle wrought; for the weather was fine, and the wind was favourable.

No time was now lost. At daybreak the sleepers were roused from their repose; orders for immediate embarcation were given; the soldiers, cheered by the change of weather, joyfully hastened on board; and the mariners made ready to haul up their anchors and spread their sails.

William's own s.h.i.+p--a gift of Matilda the d.u.c.h.ess--was named the Moira, commanded by a skipper of skill, known as Stephen, the son of Gerard, and ornamented by a figure-head representing William Rufus, then a little boy, with a bent bow in his hands. On the sails of divers colours were painted the arms of Normandy, and at the masthead flew the consecrated banner sent to William by the pope. Large lanterns, fixed on poles, were intended to serve as a rallying-point for the whole fleet.

After much bustle and exertion, everything was in readiness for sailing; and, William having embarked, the Moira, followed by fourteen hundred vessels, great and small, made for the open sea, while a cheer rose from sixty thousand tongues. The voyage was, on the whole, prosperous. But the Moira, sailing much more swiftly than the other s.h.i.+ps, outstripped them during the day, and at night left them far behind. In the morning William found to his dismay that his friends were not to be seen.

"Go to the masthead," said the duke, addressing Stephen; and the skipper obeyed.

"I see only sky and sea," said the skipper.

"Never mind," said William, affecting a gay countenance; "cast anchor till they come in sight."

At the same time, to keep away fear and anxiety, he ordered a copious repast, with spiced wines; and, this having been disposed of, he caused the skipper again to go aloft.

"What do you see now?" asked William.

"Four vessels," answered the skipper.

"Look again," said William.

"Ah!" cried the skipper, "I see a forest of masts and sails."

"Our fleet!" exclaimed William, joyfully; and ere long, the fourteen hundred vessels having come up, the Moira was once more at their head, and gallantly leading the way to the coast of Suss.e.x.

On that September day, the Norman fleet, without encountering the slightest opposition, sailed into the Bay of Pevensey, and cast anchor hard by that ancient castle, whose foundations were then washed by the waves, though the sea is now a mile distant from its stately ruins.

The process of disembarking the troops was immediately commenced.

First landed the archers, clad in short coats, with their bows in their hands; then the hors.e.m.e.n, in steel helmets and coats of mail, with long lances and double-edged swords; and then the armourers, smiths, carpenters, and pioneers. Everything was done in perfect order, and with a degree of precision which must have pleased William's eye.

The duke was the last to land; and, as he did so, a slight accident occurred, which some were inclined to regard as a presage of evil, but to which, with his wonted tact, he contrived to give an interpretation highly favourable to the fortunes of their enterprise. When his foot touched the sh.o.r.e, he slipped and fell on his face, and a murmur instantly arose.

"G.o.d preserve us!" exclaimed some in horror.

"This is a bad sign," cried others.

"Lords, what is it you say?" exclaimed William, rising with a spring.

"Why are you amazed? See you not that I have taken seizin of this land with my hands, and all that it contains is our own?"

It is said that after landing, William ordered the s.h.i.+ps forming his fleet to be burned, that the Normans, seeing all hope of retreat cut off, might be induced to fight the more desperately; and then he marched towards Hastings.

On a broad plain, between Pevensey and Hastings, the Normans pitched their camp. Having erected two wooden castles, brought with them to serve as receptacles for provisions during the campaign, or as places of refuge in case of disaster, they sent out bodies of troops to overrun the neighbourhood. The inhabitants, terrified at the approach of foes whom they were utterly unprepared to meet, fled from their dwellings to the churches; and the country seemed to lie so open, that many of the invaders indulged in the antic.i.p.ation of taking possession without resistance.

Far otherwise, however, was it ordered. In fact, the Anglo-Saxons were rising from the Thames to the Tweed; and William soon received warning from one of the Normans settled in England not to trust to appearances.

"Be upon your guard," was the message, "for in four days the son of G.o.dwin will be at the head of a hundred thousand men."

The warning was well meant, but somewhat unnecessary. William was not the man to be taken by surprise, as Hardrada had been. His camp was carefully guarded; and his outposts, extending to a great distance, kept watch night and day with unceasing vigilance. At length, on the morning of Friday, the 13th of October, hors.e.m.e.n galloped into the camp in such haste, that they had scarcely breath sufficient to communicate their intelligence.

"With what tidings come you?" asked the Normans eagerly.

"With tidings," answered the hors.e.m.e.n, "that the Saxon king is advancing furiously."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Harold has news of William's landing.]

XVII.

HAROLD'S HOST.

As Harold, after his victory over the Norwegians, left York to hasten to London, he summoned the men of the provinces through which he pa.s.sed to arm in defence of their country. The Anglo-Saxons obeyed the summons with the utmost possible celerity, and bands of armed men were soon on their way to the capital. But Harold's conduct ruined all.

With a rashness of which even Tostig would hardly, under such circ.u.mstances, have been guilty, he resolved to venture on a battle before the great Anglo-Saxon n.o.bles and their fighting-men came up; and, accompanied by his brothers, Gurth and Leofwine, he left the capital at the head of an army composed mainly of Kentishmen and Londoners, utterly inferior both in numbers and discipline to the force arrayed under the banner of his potent foe.

Elate with the success of his arms at Stamford Bridge, and probably deluding himself with the idea that he could conquer William as he had conquered Hardrada, Harold marched with fierce rapidity till he was within seven miles of the Norman camp. But convinced, at that stage, of the impossibility of coming on William unawares, he changed his tactics, halted near the village then known as Epiton, took possession of some hilly ground, and fortified his position with ditches, palisades, ramparts of slates, and willow hurdles. Thus strongly intrenched, he resolved to stand on the defensive.

Meanwhile, some spies, sent to make observations on the hostile army, and bring intelligence of the disposition and force of the Normans, returned to the camp, and gave their report.

"There are more priests," said the spies, "in Duke William's camp, than there are fighting men on the English side."

"Ah," said Harold, with a smile, "you have mistaken warriors for priests, because the Normans shave their beards, and wear their hair short. Those whom you saw in such numbers are not priests, but brave soldiers, who will soon show us what they are worth."