Dreadful were the events of that September day, and most dismally tragic the retreat from Stamford Bridge to Riccall; the pursuers wielding sword and spear with merciless energy on the rear of the fugitive army, while ever and anon the Northman turned upon his foe and died fighting.
The fleet was reached by the war-worn Norwegians, but afforded them no refuge, for the Saxons pressed on to the attack, and captured ship after ship, and in some instances appear to have fired the vessels, failing to carry them by the sword, for the “Anglo-Saxon Chronicle” says:—“And the English from behind hotly smote them, until they came, some to their ships, some were drowned, and some also burned; and thus in divers ways they perished, so that there were few left. The King then gave his protection to Olave, son of the King of the Norwegians, and to their bishop and to the Earl of Orkney, and to all those who were left in the ships: and they then went up to our King, and swore oaths that they ever would observe peace and friendship toward this land, and the King let them go home with twenty-four ships.”
On the low plain of Riccall the dead lay thickly, and to this day the villagers point out to the curious visitor the huge earthen mounds that cover the bones of the Norwegians.
The Harold Hardrada Saga gives us a last glimpse of the remnant of the forlorn fleet, as it sailed from the ancient port of Ravenser:—“Olafr, son of Harold Sigurdson, led the fleet from England, setting sail at Hrafnseyri, and in the autumn came to Orkney. Of whom Stein Herdisson makes mention:
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