After
some questionable acts of vengeance on the Greek court,
Harald and his bold Vaeringers go fighting and plundering
their way through the Bosphorus and Black Sea back to
Novogorod, where the first part of the romance terminates,
as it should, by his marriage with the object of his
secret attachment, Elisof, the daughter of the Russian
king.
Hardrada's story darkens towards the end, as most of the
tales of that stirring time are apt to do. His death on
English ground is so striking, that you must have patience
with one other short Saga; it will give you the battle
of Stanford Bridge from the Norse point of view.
The expedition against Harold of England commences ill;
dreams and omens affright the fleet; one man dreams he
sees a raven sitting on the stern of each vessel; another
sees the fair English coast;
"But glancing shields
Hide the green fields;"
and other fearful phenomena mar the beautiful vision.
Harald himself dreams that he is back again at Nidaros,
and that his brother Olaf meets him with a prophecy of
ruin and death. The bold Norsemen are not to be daunted
by these auguries, and their first successes on the
English coast seem to justify their persistence. But on
a certain beautiful Monday in September (A.D. 1066,
according to the Saxon Chronicle), part of his army being
encamped at Stanford Bridge, "Hardrada, HAVING TAKEN
BREAKFAST, ordered the trumpets to sound for going on
shore;" but he left half his force behind, to guard the
ships: and his men, anticipating no resistance from the
castle, which had already surrendered, "went on shore
(the weather being hot), with only their helmets, shields,
and spears, and girt with swords; some had bows and
arrows, - and all were very merry." On nearing the castle,
they see "a cloud of dust as from horses' feet, and under
it shining shields and bright armour." English Harold's
army is before them. Hardrada sends back to his ship for
succour, and sets up his banner, "Land Ravager," undismayed
by the inequality of his force, and their comparatively
unarmed condition. The men on each side are drawn up in
battle array, and the two kings in presence; each gazes
eagerly to discover his noble foe among the multitude.
Harald Hardrada's black horse stumbles and falls; "the
King got up in haste, and said, 'A fall is lucky for a
traveller.'"
The English King said to the Northmen who were with
him, "Do you know the stout man who fell from his horse,
with the blue kirtle, and beautiful helmet?"
"That is the Norwegian King," said they.
English Harold replied, "A great man, and of stately
appearance is he; but I think his luck has left him."
And now twenty gallant English knights ride out of their
ranks to parley with the Northmen.
