Yorkshire Battles

by Edward Lamplough

Then Tosti swore a great oath that no man should ever say that Tosti, son of Godwin, broke faith with Harold, son of Sigurd; whereon the trumpets sounded, and the Saxon advance began.

The Norwegians occupied a purely defensive position on rising ground in the rear of the Derwent; the narrow wooden bridge, which spanned the river, being held by a strong detachment posted on the Saxon side of the water. There is a strange legendary story told of a gigantic Norwegian holding the bridge, single-handed, against the Saxon army for three hours; meeting every rush of the assailants with tremendous blows of a huge battle-axe, and only falling by a treacherous blow from the spear of a Saxon soldier, who, in a boat, passed underneath the bridge, and directing a stroke of his spear between the planks, smote the warrior underneath his mail, and so slew him. Considering that Harold’s army contained both archers and slingers, it is difficult to believe that three hours should be lost, and forty Saxons slain by this terrible warrior, before he fell to the cowardly stroke of a concealed enemy.

It is certain, however, that the bridge was stormed by the Saxons, and that Harold Hardrada maintained a defensive position while they crossed, although he might have attacked them at great disadvantage while forming in the open ground. Being deficient in cavalry, he had formed his troops somewhat in the old Scottish fashion of the Schiltron: massing them in one huge circular column, with the front rank kneeling, and all presenting their pikes, so that the bristling column might scarcely be broken by the most desperate and repeated charges, and the soldiers, who loved fighting with the wild Norse love, which has not yet died out of the earth, might safely count upon a feast of blows that day.

Hardrada occupied the centre of his army, with his jarls and captains around him, and his famous war-standard, the “Land-Ravager,” floating above his head. He was mounted upon a powerful black war-horse, his hauberk and helmet were of burnished steel, and a long blue cloak rendered him conspicuous amidst his warlike thousands, over whom he towered in the physical superiority of his gigantic stature; as the battle commenced he lifted his powerful voice, and sang his war-song, kindling the enthusiasm of his warriors, and preparing them for the storm that was about to burst upon them.

Before the main-battle commenced, the force that guarded the bridge had to be driven back, and if there be any truth in the story of its sturdy defence, Hardrada’s reinforcements should have reached him before the Saxons passed the bridge.

The initiative was forced upon Harold Godwinson, and no slackness was shown by the Saxons in closing in upon their formidable adversaries. The charges were repeated again and again, and the famous Saxon twibil did good service that day; nor were the spearmen wanting in their efforts, while the Saxon cavalry charged again and again. The day wore on; the cries of battle and the clash of weapons sounded far; the Norwegian host was belted by a wide hem of the dead. The Saxon light troops did good service on this memorable day, and brought down many of the sea-rovers by the discharge of their missiles. Although both armies suffered severely, the battle endured steadily; the invaders maintained their formation with stubborn valour, and the Saxons continued their attacks with equal determination. In the heat of the battle an arrow smote King Hardrada in the throat, and he died in the midst of his army, at the foot of his standard, to the sound of ringing steel and fierce war-cries.

Although the noble form of Hardrada was missed from the press, and his war-cry no longer presaged victory to the Norwegian host, his valiant troops maintained the field with unabated ardour; and Prince Olave bringing up reinforcements from the fleet, the strife waxed fiercer, and the most sanguine might question with whom the victory would rest. Harold was an expert warrior, and failing to penetrate the Norwegian ranks by dint of hard fighting, he feigned a retreat, and induced them to abandon their close formation, in the excitement of attack and pursuit, when he turned upon their disordered lines, and the field instantly became the scene of a fierce hand-to-hand encounter, with its dreadful attendant carnage. Tosti, and many of the Norwegians, fell in the last stubborn effort to maintain the field, for although the generous Saxon offered them quarter, it was disdainfully refused by the maddened Northmen.

The following quaint and pithy account of the battle is taken from the “Anglo-Saxon Chronicle,” and is well worthy of quotation:—“Then, during this, came Harold, King of the Angles, with all his forces, on the Sunday, to Tadcaster, and there drew up his force, and went thence on Monday throughout York; and Harold, King of Norway, and Tosty, the Earl, and their forces, were gone from their ships beyond York to Stamford-bridge, because it had been promised them for a certainty, that there, from all the shire, hostages should be brought to meet them. Then came Harold, King of the English, against them, unawares, beyond the bridge, and they there joined battle, and very strenuously, for a long time of the day, continued fighting: and there was Harold King of Norway and Tosty the Earl slain, and numberless of the people with them, as well of the Northmen as of the English: and the Northmen fled from the English. Then was there one of the Norwegians who withstood the English people, so that they might not pass over the bridge, nor obtain the victory. Then an Englishman aimed at him with a javelin, but it availed nothing; and then came another under the Bridge, and pierced him terribly inwards under the coat of mail. Then came Harold, King of the English, over the bridge, and his forces onward with him, and there made great slaughter, as well of Norwegians as of Flemings. And the King’s son Edmund, Harold let go home to Norway, with all the ships.”

Dreadful were the events of that September day, and most dismally tragic the retreat from Stamford Bridge to Riccall; the pursuers wielding sword and spear with merciless energy on the rear of the fugitive army, while ever and anon the Northman turned upon his foe and died fighting.