Immediately the duke dismounted from his horse, went into his own room, closed the door, and remained there until nightfall. No one dared to enter that room or speak to the duke. When he left it, it was with the resolve to take a terrible vengeance upon the man who, he said, had broken his oath.
He sent for armourers, and sword-smiths, and carpenters, and ship-builders. Then he sent all over Normandy, and all over France, for soldiers to help him to fight against Harold.
For six months the people of Normandy worked with a will. The soldiers having been brought together, weapons had to be provided for them, horses found, and ships built to carry them over to England. William wrote to the Pope and told him the story of the broken oath, and the Pope sent his blessing and a sacred banner, and cursed Harold for having sworn falsely by the saints.
At last everything was ready; and in the ports and harbours of Normandy William"s ships were only waiting for a fair wind to carry his forces to what they believed to be a holy war.
In the meanwhile Harold had been finding plenty of troubles at home.
His own brother, Tostig, whom he had made Earl of Northumbria, had so offended his subjects by his cruelty and injustice that they had rebelled against him and driven him from the country. Tostig sent to ask Harold to restore him to his earldom, but Harold refused either to aid him or to allow him to return to a country where his misrule had caused him to be hated by every one.
Then Tostig went to one king after another asking for help; but they all refused to aid him. At last he found his way to King Harold Hardrada of Norway; and this warlike king gave him a fleet and an army and came himself to strike a blow against England.
The Norwegians landed on the sh.o.r.es of Northumbria, and began to ravage the country and burn the dwellings of the people.
Messengers were sent on swift horses to Harold. It was September, and all the fighting-men were away in the fields, gathering in the harvest, but at their country"s need they left their work and flocked around their king.
In a short time Harold had collected an army; and he led his men northward by a road which had been made by the Romans hundreds of years before.
There was little time for rest on the long march from London to Northumbria. As they trudged steadily onwards the men talked of the enemy whom they were soon to meet; the world-renowned Harold King of Norway, who had led his sea-kings to battle in many lands.
"Ay," said one, "I"ve heard that he fought black heathen folk in an outlandish place called Egypt. Be there such a place?"
"Egypt?" said another; "that"s the land parson preaches of in the church; there were Pharaohs there, and plagues."
"Ay," said the first; "when King Hardrada was in that land he met something worse far than Pharaohs."
"What was that?" asked the others.
"A fearsome beast that wore armour like a man. They call it a crocodile; and the country there is swarming with its like. Ten rows of teeth it had; and it came out of the river on its hind legs, and clawed at the king with iron gloves. They fought till sundown, they say, man and beast; and hard work had the king to slay the awesome creature.--He"s a great fighter, is King Harold Hardrada."
The others marched in silence for a time, thinking about this fearful adventure of the Norwegian king. It was night, and the harvest moon was lighting up the long lines of men, with the king and his n.o.bles on their tired horses at the head; the sleeping cottages, and the yellow shocks of corn standing ready cut in the fields on either side of the way.
"They do say," began another man after a time, "that the next enemy we shall have to fight will be the Duke of Normandy."
Weary as they were, all the hearers drew themselves up and squared their shoulders.
"Let him come," they said. "We will have no Norman for our king!"
"Ay," another voice was saying, "they do tell that the Pope has sent him a sacred banner, and calls it a holy war because our good king has broken an oath which he swore long ago, to help Duke William to be King of England."
"We will have no foreigner to be our king," repeated the men. "Neither Pope nor earl can give away the crown of England."
They marched resolutely onward; and for a time nothing was heard save the steady tramp of feet and the breathing of the tired horses.
Presently a halt was called, and the weary army lay down to s.n.a.t.c.h a few hours" sleep beneath the moon.
They were on foot again by daybreak; and at length they came face to face with their foes.
Near Stamford Bridge on the river Derwent, the Norwegian army was drawn up in a great circle, with the sunbeams glinting upon helmets and spear-points. High overhead floated the royal standard, a raven with outstretched wings, called by the Norwegians the land-waster.
Riding at a short distance from the army was a knight in a bright blue mantle and a shining helmet.
"Who is that man?" asked Harold of one of his captains.
"It is the King of Norway," replied the captain.
Harold looked at the rider again.
"He is a tall and stately king," he said; "but his end is near."
Then he looked again at the Norwegians, all drawn up in battle array; and he thought of his brother, somewhere among their ranks; and he wondered whether it was too late to try to make peace.
He rode out from his army until he was half-way between the two forces; and then he shouted, "Is Tostig the son of G.o.dwin here?"
Tostig rode forward and said, "Behold, Tostig is here!"
Then Harold cried, "Harold of England offers Tostig peace and one-third of the kingdom of England that he may rule over it; for he would not that brother should fight against brother."
"Last winter," answered Tostig, "my brother had nought for me but words of scorn and high disdain; but now I am glad that he speaks both kindly and fairly. But what will my brother King Harold of England give to King Harold of Norway for his trouble in coming here?"
"Seven feet of English ground," replied Harold; "or perhaps a foot over, seeing he is taller than most other men."
"Go thy way!" shouted the Earl; "Tostig will not desert his friends and go over to his foes. He and his friends will die on this spot like men, or will win England with their arms."
Riding back to his army, Tostig was met by King Harold Hardrada.
"Who is that man who spake with thee?" asked the King of Norway.
Tostig replied, "That is my brother Harold, the son of G.o.dwin, and King of the English."
"He is but a little man," said Hardrada; "but he sits well in his stirrups."
Then the battle began.
Both sides fought well, but the English pressed the Northmen hard, and drove them backward until they came to the river Derwent. Then they pressed them harder than ever; and the Northmen might have been forced into the river and drowned but for the bravery of one of their number, who kept the bridge with uplifted sword while the other soldiers pa.s.sed over. At last an Englishman got under the bridge, and thrust upward with his spear through the planks; and wounded the brave Northman so that he died.
After this the Northmen fell into confusion. Hardrada and Tostig were both slain; and the remnant of their army fled in a panic to their ships.
The English marched towards York, where the king gave a great feast in honour of the victory.
The guests were seated round the board, drinking healths and singing, and Harold was thinking sorrowfully of the brother who had fallen, a traitor to his country, when of a sudden there was a loud knocking at the door.
"What is that?" inquired the startled guests.
The door was thrown open, and a weary, white-faced man appeared, all splashed and caked with mud.
"What ill news have you come to bring me?" asked Harold, while the others all left the board and crowded round to hear.