GLUMM GAINS A GREAT PRIVATE VICTORY-THE DALESMEN ASSEMBLE TO FIGHT FOR FREEDOM-THE FOE APPEARS, AND THE SIGNAL OF BATTLE IS SOUNDED

Again we return to the mound near Ulfstede, the top of which was now bathed in the rays of the morning sun ­for the day had only begun, the events narrated at the end of the last chapter having occurred within a period of less than three hours.

Here stood the fair Hilda and the volatile Ada, the former leaning on the arm of the latter, and both gazing intently and in silence on the heart-stirring scene before them.  Once again Horlingdal with its fiord was the scene of an assembly of armed men, but this time the concourse was grander, because much greater, than on a previous occasion.  Men had learned by recent events that momentous changes were taking place in the land.  The news of the King’s acts had been carried far and wide.  Everyone felt that a decisive blow was about to be struck somewhere, and although many hundreds had little or no opinion of their own as to what was best for the interests of the kingdom, they knew that a side must be taken, and were quite willing to take that which appeared to be the right, or which seemed most likely to win, while a large proportion of them were intelligently and resolutely opposed to the King’s designs.  Thus, when the war-token was sent round, it was answered promptly.  Those who dwelt nearest to the place of rendezvous were soon assembled in great numbers, and, from the elevated point on which the girls stood, their glittering masses could be seen on the shore, while they launched their longships and loaded them with stones ­the ammunition of those days ­or passed briskly to and fro with arms and provisions; while all up the valley, as far as the eye could see, even to the faint blue distance, in the haze of which the glaciers and clouds and mountain tops seemed to commingle, troops of armed men could be seen pouring down from gorge and glen, through wood and furze and fen.  On the fiord, too, the same activity and concentration prevailed, though not quite to the same extent.  Constantly there swept round the promontories to the north and south, boat after boat, and ship after ship, until the bay close below Ulfstede was crowded with war-craft of every size ­their gay sails, and in some cases gilded masts and figureheads, glancing in the sunshine, and their shield-circled gunwales reflected clearly in the sea.

“What a grand sight!” exclaimed Ada with enthusiasm, as she listened to the deep-toned hum of the busy multitude below.

“Would God I had never seen it!” said her companion.

“Out upon thee, Hilda!  I scarce deem thee fit to be a free Norse maiden.  Such a scene would stir the heart of stone.”

“It does stir my heart strangely, sister,” replied Hilda, “I scarcely can explain how.  I feel exultation when I see the might of our district, and the bold bearing of our brave and brisk men; but my heart sinks again when I think of what is to come ­the blood of men flowing like water, death sweeping them down like grain before the sickle; and for what?  Ada, these go not forth to defend us from our enemies, they go to war with brothers and kindred ­with Norsemen.”

Ada beat her foot impatiently on the sod, and frowned a little as she said ­

“I know it well enough, but it is a grand sight for all that, and it does no good to peep into the future as thou art doing continually.”

“I do not peep,” replied Hilda; “the future stares me full in the face.”

“Well, let it stare, sister mine,” said Ada, with a laugh, as she cleared her brow, “and stare past its face at what lies before thee at present, which is beautiful enough, thou must allow.”

At that moment there seemed to be increasing bustle and energy on the part of the warriors on the shore, and the murmur of their voices grew louder.

“What can that mean, I wonder?” said Ada.

“Fresh news arrived, perhaps,” replied her friend.  “The Christians’ God grant that this war may be averted!”

“Amen, if it be His will,” said a deep voice behind the girls, who turned and found the hermit standing at their side.  “But, Hilda,” he continued, “God does not always answer our prayers in the way we expect ­sometimes because we pray for the wrong thing, and sometimes because we pray that the right thing may come to us in the wrong way.  I like best to end my petitions with the words of my dear Saviour Jesus Christ ­`Thy will be done.’  Just now it would seem as if war were ordained to go on, for a scout has just come in to say that King Harald with his fleet is on the other side of yonder point, and I am sent to fetch thee down to a place of safety without delay.”

“Who sent thee?” demanded Ada.

“Thy foster-father.”

“Methinks we are safe enough here,” she said, with a gesture of impatience.

“Aye, if we win the day, but not if we lose it,” said the old man.

“Come,” said Hilda, “we must obey our father.”

“I have no intention of disobeying him,” retorted the other, tossing her head.

Just then Alric ran up with a look of anxiety on his swelled and blood-stained face.

“Come, girls, ye are in the way here.  Haste ­ah! here comes Erling ­and Glumm too.”

The two young men ran up the hill as he spoke.

“Come with us quickly,” cried Erling; “we do not wish the King’s people to see anyone on this mound.  Let me lead thee down, Hilda.”

He took her by the hand and led her away.  Glumm went forward to Ada, whose old spirit was evidently still alive, for she glanced at the hermit, and appeared as if inclined to put herself under his protection, but there was something in Glumm’s expression that arrested her.  His gruffness had forsaken him, and he came forward with an unembarrassed and dignified bearing.  “Ada,” he said, in a gentle but deliberate voice, while he gazed into her face so earnestly that she was fain to drop her eyes, “thou must decide my fate now.  To-day it is likely I shall fight my last battle in my fatherland.  Death will be abroad on the fiord, more than willing to be courted by all who choose to woo him.  Say, dear maid, am I to be thy protector or not?”

Ada hesitated, and clasped her hands tightly together, while the tell-tale blood rushed to her cheeks.  Glumm, ever stupid on these matters, said no other word, but turned on his heel and strode quickly away.

“Stay!” she said.

She did not say this loudly, but Glumm heard it, turned round, and strode back again.  Ada silently placed her hand in his ­it trembled as she did so ­and Glumm led her down the hill.

The girls were escorted by their lovers only as far as Ulfstede.  With all the other women of the place, and the old people, they were put under the care of the hermit, who conveyed them safely to Haldorstede, there to await the issue of the day.

Meanwhile, Haldor, Erling, Glumm, Hakon of Drontheim, Ulf, Guttorm Stoutheart, and all the other Sea-kings, not only of Horlingdal, but of the surrounding valleys, with a host of smaller bonders, unfreemen, and thralls, went down to the shores of the bay and prepared for battle.

It is needless to say that all were armed to the teeth ­with coats of mail and shirts of wolf-skin; swords and battle-axes, bows and arrows, halberds and spears, “morning stars” and bills, scythes, javelins, iron-shod poles ­and many other weapons.

The principal ships of the fleet were of course those belonging to Haldor, Ulf, and the wealthier men of the district.  Some of these were very large ­having thirty benches of rowers, and being capable of carrying above a hundred and fifty men.  All of them were more or less decorated, and a stately brilliant spectacle they presented, with their quaint towering figureheads, their high poops, shield-hung sides, and numerous oars.  Many proud thoughts doubtless filled the hearts of these Sea-kings as they looked at their ships and men, and silently wended their way down to the strand.  In the case of Haldor and Erling, however, if not of others, such thoughts were tempered with the feeling that momentous issues hung on the fate of the day.

Well was it for all concerned that the men who led them that day were so full of forethought and energy, for scarcely had they completed their preparations and embarked their forces when the ships of Harald Fairhair swept round the northern promontory.

If the fleet of the small kings of Horlingdal and the south was imposing, that of the King of Norway was still more so.  Besides, being stronger in numbers, and many of the warships being larger ­his own huge vessel, the Dragon, led the van, appearing like a gorgeous and gigantic sea-monster.

The King was very proud of this longship.  It had recently been built by him, and was one of the largest that had ever been seen in Norway.  The exact dimensions of it are not now known, but we know that it had thirty-two banks for rowers, from which we may infer that it must have been of nearly the same size with the Long Serpent, a war vessel of thirty-four banks, which was built about the end of the tenth century, and some of the dimensions of which are given in the Saga of Olaf Tryggvesson.  The length of her keel that rested on the grass, we are told, was about 111 feet, which is not far short of the length of the keel of one of our forty-two gun frigates.  As these warships were long in proportion to their breadth, like our modern steamers, this speaks to a size approaching 400 tons burden.  As we have said, the Dragon was a gorgeous vessel.  It had a high poop and forecastle, a low waist, or middle part, and a splendidly gilt and painted stern, figurehead, and tail.  The sides, which were, as usual, hung round with the red and white painted shields of the crew, were pierced for sixty-four oars, that is, thirty-two on each side, being two oars to each bank or bench, and as there were three men to each oar, this gave a total crew of 192 men; but in truth the vessel contained, including steersmen and supernumeraries, above 200 men.  Under the feet of the rowers, in the waist, were chests of arms, piles of stones to be used as missiles, provisions, clothing, goods, and stores, all of which were protected by a deck of movable hatches.  On this deck the crew slept at nights, sheltered by an awning or sail, when it was not convenient for them to land and sleep on the beach in their tents, with which all the vessels of the Norsemen were usually supplied.  There was but one great mast, forty feet high, and one enormous square sail to this ship.  The mast was tipped with gilding, and the sail was of alternate strips of red, white, and blue cloth.  Each space between the banks served as the berth of six or eight men, and was divided into half berths ­starboard and larboard ­for the men who worked the corresponding oars.  On the richly ornamented poop stood the King himself, surrounded by his bodyguard and chief men of the Court, including Jarl Rongvold and Thiodolph the scald.  From the stem to the mid-hold was the forecastle, on which were stationed the King’s berserkers, under Hake of Hadeland.  All the men of Hake’s band were splendid fellows; for King Harald, having a choice of men from the best of every district, took into his house troop only such as were remarkable for strength, courage, and dexterity in the use of their weapons.

It must not be supposed that the rest of Harald’s fleet was composed of small vessels.  On the contrary, some of them were not far short of his own in point of size.  Many of his jarls were wealthy men, and had joined him, some with ten or twenty, and others with thirty, or even forty, ships of various sizes.  Many of them had from twenty to thirty banks for rowers, with crews of 100 or 150 men.  There were also great numbers of cutters with ten or fifteen banks, and from thirty to fifty men in each, besides a swarm of lesser craft, about the size of our ordinary herring boats.

There were many men of note in this fleet, such as King Sigurd of Royer and Simun’s sons; Onund and Andreas; Nicolas Skialdvarsson; Eindrid, a son of Mornef, who was the most gallant and popular man in the Drontheim country, and many others; the whole composing a formidable force of seven or eight thousand warriors.

With Haldor the Fierce, on the other hand, there was a goodly force of men and ships; for the whole south country had been aroused, and they came pouring into the fiord continuously.  Nevertheless they did not number nearly so large a force as that under King Harald.  Besides those who have been already named, there were Eric, king of Hordaland; Sulke, king of Rogaland, and his brother Jarl Sote; Kiotve the Rich, king of Agder, and his son Thor Haklang; also the brothers Roald Ryg, and Hadd the Hard, of Thelemark, besides many others.  But their whole number did not exceed four thousand men; and the worst of it all was that among these there were a great many of the smaller men, and a few of the chiefs whose hearts were not very enthusiastic in the cause, and who had no very strong objection to take service under Harald Fairhair.  These, however, held their peace, because the greater men among them, and the chief leaders, such as Haldor and Ulf, were very stern and decided in their determination to resist the King.

Now, when the report was brought that Harald’s fleet had doubled the distant cape beyond Hafurdsfiord, the people crowded to the top of the cliffs behind Ulfstede to watch it; and when it was clearly seen that it was so much larger than their own, there were a few who began to say that it would be wiser to refrain from resistance; but Haldor called a Thing together on the spot by sound of horn, and a great many short pithy speeches were made on both sides of the question.  Those who were for war were by far the most able men, and so full of fire that they infused much of their own spirit into those who heard them.  Erling in particular was very energetic in his denunciation of the illegality of Harald’s proceedings; and even Glumm plucked up heart to leap to his feet and declare, with a face blazing with wrath, that he would rather be drowned in the fiord like a dog, or quit his native land for ever, than remain at home to be the slave of any man!

Glumm was not, as the reader is aware, famed for eloquence; nevertheless the abruptness of his fiery spirit, the quick rush of his few sputtered words, and the clatter of his arms, as he struck his fist violently against his shield, drew from the multitude a loud burst of applause.  He had in him a good deal of that element which we moderns call “go”.  Whatever he did was effectively done.

The last who spoke was Solve Klofe.  That redoubtable warrior ascended the hill just as Glumm had finished his remarks.  He immediately stood forward, and raised his hand with an impassioned gesture.  “Glumm is right,” he cried.  “It is now clear that we have but one course to take; and that is to rise all as one man against King Harald, for although outnumbered, we still have strength enough to fight for our ancient rights.  Fate must decide the victory.  If we cannot conquer, at all events we can die.  As to becoming his servants, that is no condition for us!  My father thought it better to fall in battle than to go willingly into King Harald’s service, or refuse to abide the chance of weapons like the Numedal kings.”

“That is well spoken,” cried Haldor, after the shout with which this was received had subsided.  “The Thing is at an end, and now we shall make ready, for it can be but a short time until we meet.  Let the people take their weapons, and every man be at his post, so that all may be ready when the war-horn sounds the signal to cast off from the land. Then let us throw off at once, and together, so that none go on before the rest of the ships, and none lag behind when we row out of the fiord.  When we meet, and the battle begins, let people be on the alert to bring all our ships in close order, and ready to bind them together.  Let us spare ourselves in the beginning, and take care of our weapons, that we do not cast them into the sea, or shoot them away in the air to no purpose.  But when the fight becomes hot, and the ships are bound together, then let each man show what spirit is in him, and how well he can fight for country, law, and freedom!”

A loud ringing cheer was the answer to this speech, and then the whole concourse hurried down the hill and embarked; the vessels were quickly arranged in order according to their size; the war-horn sounded; thousands of oars dipped at the same moment, the blue waters of the fiord were torn into milky foam, and slowly, steadily, and in good order the fleet of the Sea-kings left the strand, doubled the cape to the north of Horlingfiord, and advanced in battle array to meet the foe.

Note 1.  Signals by call of trumpet were well understood in those times.  We read, in the ancient Sagas, of the trumpet-call to arm, to advance, to attack, to retreat, to land, and also to attend a Court Thing, a House Thing, a General Thing.  These instruments were made of metal, and there were regular trumpeters.