Chapter XIV: The Norwegian Invasion and the Campaign of Stamfordbridge.928 (2)

The hostages, one hundred and fifty in number, which were now given to the Norwegian King were to secure [Sidenote: Hostages from the shire to be delivered at Stamfordbridge.] the fidelity of the city of York only. Hostages from the whole shire were to be given at some future day, and the place for their delivery was appointed to be at Stamfordbridge.[1001] The spot which bears this name, a name which [Sidenote: Notice of Stamfordbridge and Aldby.] the events of those few days were to make illustrious, lies about eight miles north-east of the city. As its name implies, the main feature of the place is the bridge over the Derwent, a tributary of the Ouse, which joins the main stream at a considerable distance below Riccall. The site has been conjectured to be the Roman Derventio, but it is perhaps a more lucky guess which places that site, a site so hallowed in the early religious history of Northumberland, within the modern park of Aldby. There stood a royal house of the Northumbrian Kings, the apparent site of which, or of some of its outposts, a mound surrounded by a fosse, still looks down on a picturesque point of the course of the river. There it was that the faithful Lilla gave his life for the Northumbrian Bretwalda, and there Eanfled, the Bretwalda’s first-born, was the first of Northumbrian race to be received into the fold of Christ.[1002] This spot lies at a distance of less than three miles above Stamfordbridge, on the right bank of the river, at a point where another bridge now at least [Sidenote: Cause of the movement from York.] spans the stream. If Aldby, the ancient dwelling-place of the Northumbrian Kings, remained, as is highly probable, a dwelling-place of the Northumbrian Earls, some light is perhaps thrown on what otherwise seems the incomprehensible movement of the Northmen from York to Stamfordbridge.[1003] We instinctively ask why such a comparatively distant spot, one especially which removed the army still further from their naval station at Riccall, should have been chosen for the delivery of the hostages. Why should Harold leave York so far out of his immediate grasp, when one would have thought that the hostages might just as easily have been delivered in York itself? The probable cause is to be found in the necessity of finding new quarters and a new place of subsistence for the army. The Northmen had doubtless by this time consumed all that was supplied by the hanks of the Ouse; they were not to be indulged with the sack of York; the provisions furnished by the city could hardly maintain them till the coming of the hostages, whose collection from all parts of the shire would necessarily be a work of time. But if there was a royal house in the neighbourhood of Stamfordbridge, we at once see a motive to direct the choice of the invaders to that neighbourhood. Such a position would afford manifest advantages in the way of quarters and provisions. Its occupation would also present a sentimental attraction. The first-fruits of victory would already seem to be enjoyed by Tostig as he sat again as master in the halls of his brother. And Harold Hardrada might feel himself already Lord of the Isle of Britain, as he placed himself in the seat of the King who seemed to have left his Kingdom open to his arms.

[Sidenote: Description of the site.]

The spot which, by reason of this almost accidental movement, became the scene of one of the great events of our history, though not one of those spots which nature seems to have marked out as the almost necessary place of some memorable deed, is one which is far from being void of interest. The great tale of which it became the theatre [Sidenote: Origin of the name.] is legibly written on its natural features. The name of the place is a history in itself.[1004] The stones are still to be seen from which the spot drew its first name of Stamford. That name is shared with it by not a few other places, a name which reminds us of days when the primitive stepping-stones, supplied either by art or by nature, supplied the earliest means of crossing a deep or rapid river. Those stones, at a later day, became the supports of the wooden bridge which one deed of that memorable week was to make immortal. The wooden bridge has, in modern times, given way to a successor of stone, and other changes have greatly modified the condition of the stream and the general aspect of the place. But the main features are still there, as when the Norwegian host pitched their camp upon its banks. The modern bridge stands on a different site from the early structure of wood, but the position of the true Stamfordbridge is still to be seen. Its memory is preserved at once by local tradition and by the clearer evidence of the course of the roads converging on either side. The ground on each side of the Derwent forms at this point a nearly flat plain, but a plain placed at some elevation above the stream. In the distance the bold outline of the Yorkshire Wolds forms a prominent object, but the country nearer to the river is not marked in any special way. The Derwent itself, a reedy and somewhat sluggish stream, winds between the higher levels on each side, its immediate banks forming those alluvial flats which are locally known as _ings_. But at Stamfordbridge itself the higher ground slopes gently to the river on both sides. This higher ground, on the left bank of the stream, bears the historical name of the _Battle Flats_. On the other side, the ground, in an approach from York, is nearly flat, with a slight rise, as far as Gate Helmsley, a village a mile or more west of the river. From this point the road gradually descends to Stamfordbridge. An army therefore advancing from York would be able to make the greater part of its march unperceived by the enemy. An army encamped on the lower ground immediately on each side of the Derwent might easily, if somewhat careless guard were kept, remain unconscious of the enemy’s approach till they had begun the descent from Helmsley.[1005]

The events which followed lead us to believe that the [Sidenote: Arrangement of the Norwegian army.] Northmen, in the full consciousness and pride of victory, were encamped on both sides of the stream, probably in no very certain order or discipline. If a neighbouring royal dwelling-place at Aldby formed one of the motives for the choice of the position, it is possible that the head-quarters of the Norwegian King were placed at that point. At any rate, the bridge itself and the ground immediately right of the river were kept by an advanced detachment. It would seem that the whole of the army which had received the submission of York, and which was expecting the submission of all Northumberland, retired from the banks of the Ouse to the banks of the Derwent. The ships still remained in the larger river, seemingly at their original landing-place at Riccall, still guarded by Olaf and the Earls of Orkney. Meanwhile Harold himself, with Tostig and the main strength of the army, awaited the coming of the hostages at Stamfordbridge.

[Sidenote: The news of the Norwegian landing brought to Harold of
England.]

They waited for what they were never to receive. One day more of endurance, and York might have been saved from the humiliation of her ignominious treaty with the invader. The news of the approach of the Northern fleet had been carried with all speed to King Harold of England.[1006] Placed between two enemies, the King’s position was indeed a difficult one. His preparations for the defence of the South had been brought to nothing by events over which he had no control. To march to the defence of the North was to leave the South unguarded. But it was impossible for him to leave the North to a guardianship which was plainly inadequate. Eadwine and Morkere had failed to save Cleveland; they had failed to support the gallant local resistance of Scarborough and Holderness. The huge host of Hardrada, gathered from so many lands, was one with which the force of Northumberland alone could never grapple. The occasion called for the presence of the King [Sidenote: He determines on an instant march to the North.] and for the whole force of the Kingdom. The more immediate danger dictated the more immediate duty. Duke William had not yet landed; he had not even sailed; a thousand accidents might hinder him from ever landing or ever sailing. But King Harold of Norway was already in the land; he was ravaging and burning at pleasure; whole districts of Northumberland, deserted by their immediate rulers, were submitting to him. The call northwards was at the moment the stronger; a swift march, a speedy victory, and Harold of England might again be in London or in Sussex before the southern invader could have crossed the sea. The King chose his plan, and the plan that he chose he carried out with all the tremendous energy of his character. He gave orders for an immediate march to the [Sidenote: Legend of Harold’s sickness and recovery through the prayers of Eadward.] North. According to a legend which probably contains some groundwork of truth, the King was at this moment suffering from severe bodily sickness.[1007] But his strong heart rose above the weaknesses of the flesh, and he hid his sufferings from all men. By day he in no way relaxed in the labours imposed by the duty of gathering together and marshalling his army.[1008] The sleepless night was spent in prayers and sighs, as Harold implored the help of the relic whose sworn votary he was, the Holy Rood of his own Waltham.[1009] His endurance in the cause of his country was rewarded, so the story runs, by supernatural help and comfort. The deceased King, the holy Eadward, did not, in his now happier state, forget the Kingdom which had been his in his mortal days, nor yet the King to whom he had made fast his Kingdom. In the visions of the night he appeared to the Abbot Æthelsige,[1010] and bade him bear his message to King Harold. Let Harold, he said, be strong and of a good courage, and go forth to battle with the enemies of England. He himself by his prayers would guide and defend his people, and would direct their righteous warfare to certain victory. If the King should doubt of his mission, let him know that he, Eadward, knew well by how great an effort he had that day gathered up his strength for the duties of his calling. The holy man delayed not to discharge the errand of his departed master. He sought the King; he told him the message of his predecessor; and Harold, recovered from his sickness,[1011] and made more hopeful by the cheering words of Eadward, applied himself with redoubled energy to the work that was before him.

[Sidenote: Value of the legend as illustrating English estimate of
Eadward and Harold.]

This tale, legendary as it is, is worth recording; for it is evidently of genuine English growth, and it shows how the English people contrived to unite reverence for the deceased saint with admiration for the living hero. The men who believed that a saint, and above all that Eadward, interfered on behalf of Harold clearly did not hold Harold for an usurper or a perjurer, or for a man who had failed in his duty to Eadward when living. Harold was under the ban of Rome, but Englishmen did not therefore hold him to be unworthy of the divine favour, just as in after times the same ban availed not to hinder Simon of Montfort from receiving worship or from working miracles. As for the historical value of the tale, Harold may possibly have been delayed by illness at this critical moment, but he hardly needed visions and prodigies to urge him to the discharge of [Sidenote: Harold begins his march.] his kingly duties. With all the speed that human energy could supply, he set forth upon that great northern march which must rank among the greatest exploits of its kind that history records. Not a moment was to be lost, if Northumberland and England were to be saved. Those whose memories could go back for fifty years might deem that the spirit of Ironside himself was once more leading the hosts of England to battle. At the head of his Housecarls, those terrible Thingmen whose name carried awe beyond the sea, the King of the English set forth from his southern capital. A subordinate command was held by Bondig the Staller, and we cannot doubt that Gyrth and Leofwine were found now, as a few weeks later, side by [Sidenote: Gathering in recruits from various districts.] side with their royal brother.[1012] On their march they pressed into their service the forces of the districts through which they passed.[1013] Volunteers, even from distant shires, hastened to join the muster. But, save its chiefs, two men alone in the host are known to us in their personal being, and even of them we cannot record the names. A Thegn of Essex, a benefactor of King Eadward’s church at Westminster, is recorded in the Norman Survey as having gone to the battle at York with Harold.[1014] Another aged Thegn of Worcestershire, a tenant of the church of Evesham and uncle of its Abbot Ælfwine, is also handed down to us, in the dry formulæ of the Survey, as having followed his King on the great march and as having given his life for Harold and for England.[1015] Such men doubtless did not stand alone; the whole strength of southern and central England took part in that great campaign, and we may be sure that Harold entered Northumberland at the head of a force equal or superior to that of the Northern invader. The English army, ranged in seven divisions,[1016] marched on along the great Roman road from London to York. The still abiding traces of the ancient conquerors of the land made, it would seem, communication between distant parts of the island easier and speedier then than they became in somewhat later times.[1017] News of the rout of Fulford and of the danger of York would doubtless still further quicken the speed of the march. In the doubtless proverbial, but marked and emphatic, language of the Chroniclers, King Harold and his army rested not day or night.[1018] They passed the Northumbrian frontier; the King had no time to diverge or tarry at his own lordship of Coningsburgh, where the famous castle of a later age has usurped the site once occupied by the house of Harold.[1019] They marched on through the great province which was now the seat of war; and on the Sunday evening, on the very day of the capitulation of York, the English army reached the last stage of the ordinary route between the two great cities of southern [Sidenote: The English reach Tadcaster. Sunday, September 24.] and northern England. This was at Tadcaster, the Roman Calcaria, a town on the Wharf, best known from its neighbourhood to the later battle-field of Towton. It was in the Wharf, it will be remembered, that the English ships had sought shelter when the Northern armada sailed up the Ouse. It is a broad and rapid stream, still navigable as high as Tadcaster for the small craft of the river, whose local name of _keels_ suggests the memory of the first vessels which landed our fathers in the Isle of Britain.[1020] We can hardly doubt that it was equally accessible to such light war-ships as an Earl of the Northumbrians would be likely to keep in his service. At Tadcaster then King Harold found and reviewed the English fleet,[1021] doubtless with an eye to possible future operations against the ships at Riccall, which the events of the morrow rendered needless. The army [Sidenote: Harold passes through York. Monday, September 25.] then marched on by the last stage of the Roman way, locally known as the _High Street_. At last, on Monday morning, King Harold of England entered his northern capital, the city which, only the day before, had bowed in ignominious homage to Harold of Norway. He was received with joy; provincial jealousies were lulled for a moment in the actual presence of the enemy, and the Danes and Angles of York pressed eagerly to welcome the West-Saxon deliverer.[1022] But the King had other work before him than either to repose after that terrible march or to enjoy the congratulations of a rescued people. He had to make sure that they were rescued; while an enemy was in the land, Harold knew but one duty, to press on to the place where the enemy might be found. He had to save the land from further desolation; he had to smite before the expected hostages could be gathered together; he had to smite, once and for ever, the enemy who lay before him, that he might turn and meet the yet more fearful enemy to whom his southern shores lay open. He pressed on through[1023] the rejoicing city, he pressed on to the Norwegian camp; and he reaped the reward of his energy and his labours in the glorious fight of Stamfordbridge.

[Sidenote: BATTLE OF STAMFORDBRIDGE. Monday, September 25, 1066.]

Of the details of that awful day we have no authentic [Sidenote: The Norwegian Saga.] record. We have indeed a glorious description, conceived in the highest spirit of the warlike poetry of the North, but it is a description which, when critically examined, proves to be hardly more worthy of belief than a battle-piece in the Iliad.[1024] The tale is one of the most familiar in our early history. We have all heard how the Northmen, rejoicing in their supposed victory, were going forth, light-hearted and careless, unprotected by defensive harness, to take full possession of their conquest. That very morning King Harold of Norway was to hold his court, and to assemble his new subjects, within the walls of York. He was there formally to assume the government, to dispose of offices, and to proclaim laws for his new realm. [Sidenote: Approach of the English army.] On his march a cloud of dust is seen in the distance; presently shields and arms glistening like ice[1025] are to be seen beneath it. It is the host of King Harold of England. The heart of Tostig fails him; let them hasten back to their ships, let them gather their comrades, and put on their coats of mail. Not so the hero of Norway. Messengers on swift horses are sent to summon the party who are left by the ships, and meanwhile Harold Hardrada marshals his army for the fight. The shield-wall is formed in the shape of a complete circle, with the Land-waster waving in its centre. A dense wood of spears bristles in front of the circle, to receive the charge of the English horsemen. King Harold of Norway rides round his host; his black horse stumbles, and he falls; but his ready wit wards off the evil omen; a fall is lucky for a traveller. But the eye of his rival is upon him; King Harold of England sees his fall. “Who,” he asks, “is the tall man who fell from his horse, the man with the blue kirtle and the goodly helm?” “It is King Harold of Norway.” “A tall man and a goodly is he, but methinks his luck [Sidenote: Meeting of the two Harolds.] has left him.” Then follows the yet more striking scene where the two Kings, alike in name and in might, meet face to face before the battle. Twenty of the Thingmen, clothed horse and man in armour, ride forth to the host of the Northmen. One of them bears to Earl Tostig the greeting and message of his brother King Harold. Let him return to his allegiance, and he shall again have the Earldom of Northumberland; nay he shall have a third of the Kingdom to rule together with the King. “What then,” asks Tostig, “shall be given to King Harold of Norway?” “Seven feet of ground,” is the famous answer, “or as much more as he is taller than other men.”[1026] “Go then,” says Tostig, “and tell King Harold of England to make him ready for the battle. Never shall men say in Norway that Earl Tostig brought King Harold Sigurdsson hither to England, and then went over to his foes.” The horsemen ride back to the host of England, and Harold Hardrada asks who is the man who spoke so well. Tostig answers that it was King Harold of England. “Why then,” asks Hardrada, “was it not told me? he should never have gone back to tell of our men’s slaughter.” Tostig, with some traces still left in his soul of the days when he went forth with an honest heart to curb the freebooters of Northumberland, answers that he could never be the murderer of the brother who came to offer him friendship and dominion. “If one of us must die, let him slay me rather than that I should slay him.” To this sentiment the Norwegian King vouchsafes no answer, but he turns to his comrades with the remark that “the King of the English was but a small man, but that he stood well in his stirrups.”

[Sidenote: Mythical character of the story.]

If this famous dialogue is plainly mythical, the glowing narrative of the fight itself is so still more plainly. [Sidenote: Misconception of the details of the battle.] The main strength of the English is conceived to lie in their horsemen; they charge in vain against the Norwegian circle, the dense shield-wall and the bristling spears. One assault after another is beaten off; at last the Northmen, proud of their resistance, become eager for more active success. They break the line to pursue the English; as soon as the shield-wall is broken, the English horsemen turn and overwhelm them with javelins and arrows. King Harold of Norway stands at first by his standard; the inspiration of the scald comes upon him; he sings of the fight to be won by the hand and the sword of the warrior, though his breast be unguarded by the corslet. When the shield-wall is broken, the Berserker rage seizes him, and he leaves, like Eadmund, his post by the standard; with his huge two-handed sword he bursts upon the ranks of the English; helmet and coat of mail give way before that terrible weapon; the English are well nigh driven to flight by his single arm; but an arrow pierces his throat; the mighty form falls to the ground, and his chosen comrades die around him. The battle pauses awhile; each side alike rests, as it were, to do honour to the fall of one so mighty. Tostig takes the royal post by the Land-waster; Harold of England again employs the momentary lull once more to offer peace to his brother and quarter to the surviving Northmen. A fierce cry from the Norwegian ranks is the answer; as one man they will die rather than receive quarter from the English. The war-shout is raised, the fight begins again, and the second act is closed by the fall of Tostig.[1027] The reinforcement now arrives from the ships. They come in full harness; their chief is Eystein Orre, the personal favourite of the King and the promised husband of his daughter Mary. He is the hero of the third act of the fight, the Storm of Orre, as it was called in Northern song. He and his men come up wearied with the swift march from the ships; still they begin the third struggle, the most terrible of all. Eystein takes the post by the Land-waster, which had been held by Harold and Tostig; the fight is waged more fiercely than ever; the English are well nigh driven to flight. At last the Berserker rage seizes on the Northmen; they throw away their coats of mail; some are slain by the English, some fall of sheer weariness and die without a wound. Still the fight is kept up till night-fall; by that time the chief men of Norway have fallen, and the remnant of the host escapes under the cover of the darkness.

[Sidenote: Meagreness of the genuine accounts.]

Such is the magnificent legend which has been commonly accepted as the history of this famous battle. I shall elsewhere examine the whole story in detail; it is enough to say here that the geography of the campaign is, in the Saga, wholly misconceived, and that a story which represents horsemen as the chief strength of an English army in the eleventh century is at once shown to be a tale of later date. And it is disappointing that, for so detailed and glowing a tale, we have so little of authentic history to substitute. Still, from such accounts as we have, combined with our knowledge of what an English army of that age really was, we can form a fair general idea of the day which beheld the last triumph of Harold the son of Godwine, the last triumph of pure and unmixed Teutonic England.

[Sidenote: Sudden advance of the English.]

King Harold then marched through York, and found a portion at least of the Norwegian host on the right bank of the Derwent, wholly unprepared for his attack. It is quite possible that they may have been, as the story represents them, going to a peaceful meeting at York. Anyhow, the invaders, rejoicing in the victory of Fulford, in the capitulation of York, in the promised submission of all Northumberland, had no idea of the suddenness of [Sidenote: Loyalty of the country.] the blow which was coming upon them. The speed and secrecy with which Harold was able to accomplish this memorable march not only bears witness to his own skill and energy, but also speaks well for the discipline of his army and for the general loyalty of the country. Fast as Harold may have pressed on, individual spies or deserters, had there been any such, could always have outstripped him, and could have borne the news of his approach to the enemy. But no such treason marred his well-conceived and well-executed scheme. He came on the Northmen unawares;[1028] the men who deemed that all Northumberland, perhaps that all England, was their own, suddenly found themselves in the thick of a new Brunanburh, a happier Assandun. A leader, the peer of Æthelstan and Eadmund, commanded a band of tried and chosen warriors such as Æthelstan and Eadmund never knew. Eadwine and Morkere, with their hurried levies, had doubtless done their best; but the invaders had now to deal with a very different enemy. King Harold of England was upon them; they were face to face with his personal following, with those terrible Thingmen, each one of whom, men said, was a match for any other two. But Harold Hardrada and his varied host showed no lack of gallantry; the victory was won only by the hard fighting of a whole day.[1029] The English, invisible, [Sidenote: The battle begins on the right side of the Derwent.] it would seem, till they reached the low brow of Helmsley, came at once upon that portion of the Norwegian army, utterly unprepared and seemingly not fully armed,[1030] which found itself on the right, the York side, of the Derwent. They were of course unable to bear up successfully against so sudden and terrible an attack. But the resistance which they made no doubt gave time for their comrades on the other bank, with their King at their head, to form in the full array of the shield-wall. This division, on account of the slight slope down to the river, would even have a certain advantage of ground over the English. The fight then began by the sudden attack of the English on the detachment to the right of the river. Yielding, but not flying,[1031] the unprepared and half-armed Northmen were driven across the stream. English minstrels, fragments of whose songs crop out in the narrative of colder annalists, again told how the living crossed the river over the bodies of their slain comrades which choked its stream.[1032] The bridge defended by a single Northman. [Sidenote: And now an act of daring devotion placed a nameless Northman.] whose deed is recorded not by his countrymen but by his enemies, on a level with Horatius on the bridge of Rome and with Wulfstan on the bridge of Maldon.[1033] Alone for a while he kept the pass against the whole English army; forty men fell beneath his axe;[1034] an arrow was shot at him in vain;[1035] at last an Englishman found means to creep under the bridge and pierced him through beneath his [Sidenote: The English cross the bridge, and the main fight begins.] corselet.[1036] The hindrance offered by this valiant enemy being removed, the English host, their King at their head, passed the bridge, and now the fiercest fighting of the day began. Details are lacking, but it needs no special flight of the imagination to see the slight slope above the present village, where a newly-built church has lately risen, covered by the bristling ring of the Northmen, the fortress of shields, so often sung of alike in English and in Scandinavian minstrelsy. We may picture to ourselves how the axes of England rang on that firm array of bucklers; how step by step, inch by inch, up the slopes, on to the Battle-flats, the Housecarls of King Harold [Sidenote: Obstinacy of the fighting on both sides.] clave their way. We may see how, step by step, inch by inch, dealing blow for blow even in falling back, Northman and Scot and Fleming[1037] gave way before the irresistible charge of the renowned Thingmen. We may see the golden Dragon, the ensign of Cuthred and Ælfred, glitter on high over this its latest field of triumph. We may hear the shouts of “Holy Rood” and “God Almighty” sound for the last time as an English host pressed on to victory. We may see two kingly forms towering high over either host; we may, if we will, bring the two Harolds face to face, and hear the two-handed axe of England clashing against the two-handed sword of Norway. We may see the banished Englishman defiant to the last, striking the last blow against the land which had reared him and the brother who had striven to save [Sidenote: Complete victory of the English.] him from his doom. We may call up before our eyes the final moment of triumph, when for the last time Englishmen on their own soil had possession of the place of slaughter,[1038] and when the Land-waster of Norway was lowered before the victorious Standard of the Fighting Man. At least we know that the long struggle of that day was crowned by complete victory on the side of England. The leaders of the invading host lay each man ready for all that England had to give him, his [Sidenote: Death of Harold Hardrada,] seven feet of English ground. There Harold of Norway, the last of the ancient Sea-Kings, yielded up that fiery soul which had braved death in so many forms and in so many lands. The warrior of Africa, the pilgrim of Jerusalem, had at last met his fate in an obscure corner of Britain, whose name but for him might have been [Sidenote: of Tostig,] unknown to history. There Tostig the son of Godwine, an exile and a traitor, ended in crime and sorrow a life which had begun with promises not less bright than that [Sidenote: of the Irish King.] of his royal brother. There died the nameless prince whom the excitement of battle or the hope of plunder had led from the land which had once sheltered the English King in his days of exile. The whole strength of the Northern army was broken; a few only escaped by flight, and found [Sidenote: Escape of Godred.] means to reach the ships at Riccall.[1039] Among these was the Wiking who had come from the remotest North to win his share in the plunder of conquered England. Godred survived when Harold and Tostig fell; but he returned not to his Iceland home; he found a nearer shelter with his namesake the son of Sihtric. He fled to the Isle where he was himself to reign as a conqueror, and to make his Kingdom of Man the centre of victorious warfare against [Sidenote: Utter destruction of the Norwegian army.] Dublin and all Leinster.[1040] But the great mass of the vast host of Hardrada lay dead on the banks of the Derwent.[1041] Beside those who fell beneath the English axes, many were drowned in the river; others died, we know not how, by fire.[1042] Only a few of that great host could have found even that small allowance of English earth which was to be granted to their leader. We need not believe the tale which told how the heads of Tostig and Harold of Norway were brought, as savage trophies of victory, into the presence [Sidenote: The body of Tostig found and buried at York.] of the English King.[1043] We know on better authority that the body of his fallen brother was sought for and found among the slain by a distinctive mark of his body.[1044] The wounds dealt by the Danish axe were deep and ghastly; a head cloven to the chin with the full strength of the two arms of an English Housecarl would show but few features by which Gytha or Judith could have recognized the slain. The giant form of Hardrada doubtless needed no mark to distinguish him from lesser men. We know not where he found his promised allotment;[1045] but the tie of kindred pleaded for Tostig, and the body of the banished Earl of the Northumbrians found a grave within the walls, no doubt within the primatial minster, of the city where he had ruled so sternly.[1046] But no funeral rites fell to the lot of the meaner dead of the invading army. The bones of the slain remained on the ground for many years,[1047] bearing witness, in the days of England’s bondage, how hard fought had been the last victorious fight of her last [Sidenote: Heavy loss of the English.] native King. For in truth the vanquished invaders had sold their lives dearly. The English host was far from coming forth scatheless from that awful struggle. Many a faithful Housecarl, many a noble Thegn,[1048] had given his life for England and for her chosen King. But the victory was a victory as decisive as any to be found in the whole history of human warfare. Harold had swept from the earth an enemy compared with whom Ælfgar and Gruffydd might seem but as the puppets of a moment. He stood victorious after a day of slaughter, compared with which the hardest struggles of his Welsh campaigns might seem but as the mimic warfare which men wage against the stag and the wild boar.[1049]

[Sidenote: Harold’s mild dealings with Olaf and the remnant of the
Northmen.]

But the conqueror of Stamfordbridge, during the few days of life and kingship which still were his, had to show himself in a light yet nobler than that of a conqueror. That mild and conciliatory spirit, which was as marked in the character of Harold as his valour and energy, was now, as ever, extended to enemies who could no longer resist. He had shown forbearance to domestic traitors; he had shown it to rebellious vassals; he had now to show it to men who had borne their share in an unprovoked invasion. The Norwegian ships still lay in the Ouse. After the utter defeat of the land army, naval operations were hardly needed against them; the fleet which had been arrayed at Tadcaster was not called into action, but the King of the English sent to Olaf and the Orkney Earls, and offered them peace.[1050] “They came up to our King,”[1051] seemingly to his court at York; they gave hostages and swore oaths that they would for ever keep peace and friendship with this land. In four and twenty ships, the remnant of the host of Hardrada sailed away from the shores of Northumberland. Since the day of Stamfordbridge the kindred nations of Scandinavia, bound to us by so many ties, have never appeared on English ground in any guise but that of friends and deliverers.[1052]

[Sidenote: Harold at York.]

This negotiation may have occupied the two or three days immediately following the battle. Urgently as Harold’s presence was needed in the southern part of his Kingdom, he could not refuse a few days for the needful rest of himself and his host. His presence too was needed for the settlement of the troubled affairs of Northumberland, and even for the mere celebration of his triumph. His victory was saddened by the fate of his brother; it was purchased by the blood of many of his valiant comrades; his mind must have been weighed down by the thoughts of the toils and dangers which were yet in [Sidenote: The Feast of Victory.] store for him elsewhere. Still the victor could not shrink from the accustomed celebration of so great a victory. The [Sidenote: News brought of the landing of William. [Thursday, September 28.] October 1?] King was at the banquet,[1053] when a messenger appeared, who had sped, with a pace fleeter even than that of his own march, from the distant coast of Sussex.[1054] One blow had been warded off, but another blow still more terrible had fallen. Three days after the fight of Stamfordbridge, William Duke of the Normans, once the peaceful guest of Eadward, had once again, but in quite another guise, made good his landing on the shores of England.