CHAPTER VIII

THE DEAD HERO OF THE WINWIDFIELD

After parting with Feargus and Osbert, Penda held on his way with all his thanes, and many English and Welsh and Picts and broken men came in to him as he fared northward. And they marched until they won the valley of the Aire at Woodlesford, where they crossed the water and held on towards the Winwidfield by the side of the little river Winwid, which runneth down till it joins the Wharfe at Towton. In the glen by the water they set their camp; above them stretched the wild Winmoor itself, beyond to the northward lay the great valley of the Wharfe, surrounded by many breezy uplands; southwards towards Woodlesford lay the Roman fortifications of Seacroft and the Roman road which cut in twain the wild moor that stretched to the Aire water. And so they gathered them in the glen by the Winwid burn to keep the winds off them, for it was the month of November, and that the enemy might not see their whereabouts. There they waited for seven days, till at length those who watched from the head of the moor came in, saying that they had seen men moving on the hills to the north-east. The day wore through and the next, and they saw many signs of the approach of the Northumbrian host, but, though they should now have kept their tryst with the king, there was yet no word of Feargus or Osbert. Then king Penda grew impatient, seeing that he might lose the advantage of the ground by waiting. Another day and doubts filled the old king’s mind. Had his captains betrayed him? And his men were discouraged, for much they looked to Feargus and Osbert. That night a great storm burst upon the camp of Penda, and the heavens opened and poured down their waters in torrents and the lightning flashed fiercely across the sky and the thunder rolled down the valley, filling the minds of men with forebodings. And the Northumbrians saw from afar how the lightning played fiercely over their enemies, and took heart and were comforted. On the morrow the watchers came into the king saying that the Northumbrians were approaching up the northern slope of the moor. Then the king said unto himself that he had been betrayed. “And yet,” said he, “little did I think them traitors; for I love the youth Feargus as mine own son, and though I have whiles been against him, yet I believed he loved me, and held him too true to desert me.”

At the hour of noon the Northumbrian host drew near and the king, seeing his old enemies before him, arose and gathered his men. Then the kings and royal princes that were with him, finding him bent on battle, and knowing well that the Northumbrians would not begin the attack, came to Penda saying—

“We would counsel thee, O king, to wait still until Feargus and Osbert shall reach us, for of a certainty they will come: here are we face to face with a host mightier than ours.”

Then the king answered: “And hath not the host of Penda oft-times conquered hosts twice as mighty as itself, led by greatest warriors of the world? Strength lieth not in numbers, nor in big warriors or little, but in the hearts and minds of men. And how think ye it would look for Penda to return back to Mercia without smiting her enemies? Then would Odin say, ‘Our champion is fallen,’ and ye would all and all Northumbria would say, ‘So, the old man is weak—age maketh him faint of heart and weary of war; he is no longer Penda; let us unite and slay him, for victory will be easy.’ Nay, I swear by the gods to break the Northumbrians or be broken by them this day.”

Then the Northumbrian king, seeing the Mercian host moving forward upon them, took counsel of his chiefs, and they sent out a party of horsemen with a flag of truce and many splendid gifts of gold and silver, and Penda called a halt till they won his camp. Then the thane who bore the white flag spoke: “King Oswy, and with him the kings of Lindesey and of the East Anglians and many princes, send greeting to king Penda, and bid me offer to him these gifts if he will withdraw his men to his own land; and they will enter into a bond with him to sheath their war-brands and turn them no more against Penda or his people.”

“Go back,” quoth the king, “and tell your masters that Penda recks not whether their brands be turned against him or not, for hitherto the turning of them hath hurt him little. That Penda doth not want king Oswy for friend; for the kings of the Northumbrians have never yet kept troth with the Mercians, and will be content with nothing less than the ruin of Mercia and the overlordship of all the Midlands. Penda is master of East Anglia, and when her king bendeth his neck and leaveth the camp of Oswy, and Oswy taketh himself back and sendeth his sword to Penda and acknowledgeth him as overlord—until these things are done Penda will take no gifts, neither gold nor silver nor arms nor mercy, and will give nothing but the cold steel. For, mark you, the sword that conquered Oswald and Edwin and Cadwallon and Cynwulf and Cynegils and Sigmund hangs still upon my hip. And tell them, moreover, that as soon as ye have won back to them I will give my men the word to bare their war-brands and no further parleying will brook.”

And so they went back to their king, and Oswy said: “If the pagan will not accept our gifts let us offer them to him that will—the Lord our God.”

Then king Penda gave the order for his men to move forward, but they were much discouraged, lacking the two chiefs, and came not on with the old ardour. And the advanced wing of the Northumbrians stood to meet them, Oswy himself in their midst, and the Mercians recoiled before their doughty strokes. Then Penda ordered the other wings of his host to come on, seeing the battle must be either lost or gained at that moment. Long time they fought, and now one side was borne back and now the other, and then at last, when Penda saw that the Mercian host gained not on their foes, he gathered together his horsemen and with them charged the Northumbrians. Again and again they threw themselves on their foes, but in vain; for the northern host had vantage of ground and fought with all the strength of despair, and they gan bear the Mercians slowly back. And now all the play was with the sword, for in such close grips the two hosts lay in that narrow glen that the bowmen had little room to ply their shafts. In vain Penda urged them on and rode along the lines himself, striking with the strength of youth when any withstood him. Still they gained upon them, until at length the Mercians, thoroughly discouraged by the absence of their chiefs and the numbers of their foes, turned and broke, nor hearkened to the voice of king or thane, but burst back and, casting away their arms, fled in a body southward, down the valley towards the Aire water. And ever the Northumbrians followed, till at length they came to the water by Woodlesford, but the terrible storm of the night had caused a great spate, so that the waters of Aire had overflowed the banks and covered the low-lying land on its border. And when the Mercians came to the head of the brae from which they could see the flood they knew not the stream, and being close together almost in order of battle—so well had the king instilled into them the habits of war—they dashed down the bank, which falleth suddenly towards the river, and plunged neck deep into the water. Now for a moment they are stemming the flood, all that great host, and many more are pressing on behind them, before the swords of their pursuers. Now the Northumbrians on the bank above see them stagger, for little they had reckoned the silent fury of that swirling flood; now they are hurled the one against the other, and wildly turn and try to win back and break and fall, and the water whirls over them. And now heads appear, and arms clasping others, which may be near, and shrieks for help and cries and curses rend the air, and the water is stirred but a little for all and sweeps on. And never a man of that great host won the land. And their foes stood on the banks awe-stricken, forbearing to draw their bows, for it seemed to them as though the God of the Christians who commanded the new order had descended and himself smitten the invincible host of Penda.

And then they hied them back and coming on freshly fell upon the Mercians of Penda’s army. But these were not among the flying; like a rock they stood on a knowe a mile above the Aire water, whence they had retreated in an attempt to rally their comrades. In the midst of them stood the king, a king indeed; tall of stature and erect and of wonderful beauty of countenance; deep and broad of chest, with white beard falling to his waist. On his helm he wore the raven’s wings—the sign of Odin, as the cross was of Christ, for the king was of his kin direct, and for thirty years he had fought Odin’s battle. Behind him waved the banner of the kingdom which he had raised from its utter littleness to be the greatest and strongest of the English, and around him were gathered all the flower of the Mercian host, princes and thanes, and the whole of the Albanich. And Penda had gathered all these men together into a great ring, and the Northumbrians charged them again and again, but ever fell back, broken and beaten, and ever above the throng arose the shout of “Penda! Penda!” “Albanich! Albanich!” and only the best men of Northumbria dare king Oswy send against those cries. Shock after shock broke on them, but still the men of Oswy recoiled, leaving behind horses and riders with broken skulls and bloody faces. And it seemed as though that ring of men, calm and steady and without fear, were to win the field after all. Then Oswy bethought him, seeing that no men in his host could shake the grim company, and he called his archers in and planted them amidst the broom and bushes on either side, and bade them send forth their shafts. And so the ring grew smaller, and as one fell another took his place, then the king turned.

“Now,” said he, “cometh death, and I shall die in the best company that ever I was in, for never men fought better than have ye, English or Welshmen, and ye Albanich, but it little likes me to be caught thus in a trap, a target for unseen foes, our bowmen having fled. Penda liketh to hear the ring of his blows on the helmets of Northumbrians; let this be his death song, therefore. Few though we be, let us charge the host of king Oswy and die dealing death.”

A mighty cheer from the thanes and Picts was the answer to this, and with the cheer they ran, keeping well their ring, with the king amidst of them. And they slew the bowmen, and then, turning, charged towards where king Oswy stood among his thanes by the burn side. The first inclination of the Northumbrians on hearing the war cry of Penda was to flee, so adread were they of him, but Oswy called to them—

“See,” said he, “how the heathen host waneth! Little have ye in your thousands to fear! A handful cometh now against you! The enemy of the Christian and of Northumbria is in the midst of them! Now can he not escape! On, on and at them!”

And then the great host came against the little and in a moment the Mercians were borne back by the mere weight of the mighty throng in front of them, borne back till they came again to the knowe above the Aire water, but borne back in order and unbroken, compact and fierce, to deal death strokes yet to many a Northumbrian. Then they took their stand firmly on the knowe, and their foes came round on all sides of them, and blows were struck hard and deep by Northumbrians, and the replies came quick and strong from Mercian and Welshman and Pict, each blow dealing death, and all the knowe was bloody; a wall of dead lay around the ring and still the old king fought with the best, but ever that ring grew smaller as the Northumbrian thanes came on afresh when others fell. And ever the brands clashed and rang and the crowd of common soldiers below looked on in awe at the grim and bloody work they wrought; for a fight of giants like to this had never yet been seen. But on the strongest weariness falls at last, and as the gloaming came drearily upon the fields they of Mercia were but a handful, and these stoitered like drunk men and were hardly enough to form a ring, till at length only one stood upright and the king had fallen.

“Feargus! Feargus! thou hast not forsaken us: ill hath befallen thee. Hadst thou been with us the last Northumbrian would long have fled the field. The king is down and thy work is done, Duncan, though would that the hills of Alban were around thee!” and so raising his cry, “Albanich! Albanich!” the last of the Mercian host staggered to the earth.