Wulf the Saxon: A Story of the Norman Conquest

by G. A. Henty

Owing to the difficulty of getting the levies formed up and set in motion, the Norsemen had arrived on the ground and had taken up a defensive position before the English reached it. Had the force contained a strong body of housecarls, Wulf, who had talked the matter over with the earls, would have advised that they should fight on the defensive and allow the Norsemen to attack; but with freshly-raised troops, ready and eager for battle, but wanting the discipline that alone enables trained soldiers to endure patiently a long series of attacks, he thought that there was more chance of victory in attacking the enemy. Morcar commanded on the left, Edwin on the right. Wulf took up his position by the side of Morcar, and exchanged a few words with Osgod before advancing to the charge.

"This will be a right royal contest, master," the latter said as he fingered his heavy axe. "Never before have I seen a set battle like this."

"Do you keep close to me, Osgod."

"That I am sure to do, master," the latter broke in.

"Yes, I know that while we fight you will be by my side, but it may be that we shall have to fly. The Norsemen outnumber us greatly, and their king is a host in himself. This is a good position to defend, but a bad one to fly from. The king's last words were a charge to me not to throw away my life, and therefore while I shall fight as long as fighting can avail, I shall also do my best to save myself if we are defeated. As we came along I kept near to the edge of the swamp, and some hundred yards back I marked a spot where, as it seemed to me, there was a sort of path, worn either by broken men and outlaws, who may dwell somewhere in its recesses, or by men from a village beyond it. For this point, then, I shall make if we are defeated. It may be that it was not a path, but at least it offers a chance of escape. So when I give you the word, keep close to my side."

Osgod nodded. His confidence in Wulf was absolutely boundless, and though he revolted at the thought of retreat he knew well that so long as a chance of victory remained Wulf would not quit the field. When within two or three hundred yards of the enemy, Morcar advanced to the front of the line with his standard-bearer beside him.

"On men!" he shouted, and with a yell the English poured down to the attack The line of the Norsemen was on this side less strong than it was near the river where their king had posted himself, and the Norsemen gave way before the furious attack of the English. Morcar and many of his thanes fought in the front rank. Wulf was close beside him, and before their swords and the terrible axe of Osgod the invaders fell back foot by foot, and shouts of triumph rose from the English; but it was not for long. On the left Edwin could make no impression on the shield-wall of the enemy, and presently their king caused his horns to blow the signal for attack, and his line, hitherto immovable, flung itself on the English. The king, a head taller than any of his men, fought in their front rank, his terrible two-handed sword hewing down every man who opposed him. As the English gave way the assault became more and more impetuous, and in a few minutes the English broke and fled all along the line.

"All is lost, Osgod," Wulf said; as after fighting to the last he turned his back on the foe. The scene on the ridge was now terrible; the exulting Norsemen followed hard upon the flying English, uttering their shouts of victory and cutting down all they overtook. Hampered by the crowd in front of them great numbers of the English fell beneath the weapons of their pursuers, others turned to the right or left, and hundreds were smothered in the swamp by the river or in that on the other side. Once the flight began, Osgod placed himself in front of his master, his powerful figure and his weight enabling him to push his way through the crowd of fugitives. Wulf kept close behind him, and they followed the edge of the swamp until Wulf saw the faint indication of a path he had before noticed.

"Turn off here, Osgod; this is the place I spoke of. Let me go first, I am lightest."

The ground shook beneath their feet, the slime oozed up to their ankles, but, moderating their pace now, they sprang from tussock to tussock until two or three hundred yards from the edge of the swamp. Then they paused and looked round. The work of slaughter was still proceeding. Along the edge of the swamp numbers of English could be seen, some half immerged, some fast disappearing. In the din of the struggle none heard or heeded their cries, each man was occupied solely with the thought of flight or slaughter. Some half-dozen of the fugitives, seeing the two men were making their way across the swamp, had followed in their footsteps.