HOW LORD HEREWARD AND HIS LADIE LIVED AT EY.
Even when the marriage festival was over it was a happy and a merry
life that which they led in the good Saxon manor-house, and discreet
and orderly withal. It being the wolf-month of the year (Januarius),
when the days are still short and the nights long, Hereward and the
Ladie Alftrude, together with the whole household, rose long before it
was daylight. Before attending to any household or other duties,
prayers were said in the hall by Alefric, the good mass-priest, all the
servants of the house and all the indwelling serfs being present
thereat. Some short time after prayers the first of the four meals of
the day was served by torch or candle-light, and the lord and ladie
broke their fast; and when they had finished the meal the door of the
house was thrown open, and the poor from the neighbouring township, or
the wanderers that had no home, were admitted into the house, and the
lord and lady with their own hands distributed food among them, and
while they distributed it the mass-priest blessed the meat and said a
prayer. And this being over they went forth at early-dawn to the little
church on the hill behind the linden-grove and there heard mass. The
ladie then went home to attend unto domestic concerns, and the lord
went forth with his hawks and proper attendants to hawk by the river,
or he took forth his hounds (of that famous breed of English dogs which
hath been famed in all times, and as well for war as for hunting, and
which hath been so much coveted by foreign nations that already it
beginneth to disappear from this land), and he called together the free
men of the vicinage that loved the sport, and such of the serfs as were
best practised in it, and went well armed with _venabula_ or
hunting-spears into the fens and covers to hunt the hart and hind, or
the wild goat, or the wild bull of the fens, or the wild boar, or the
grey wolf, which was not yet extinct in these parts of England.
[It was a good law of King Canute, which said that every free man in
England might hunt in his own woods and grounds, and hunt as much as he
list, provided only he interfered not with the royal parks and
demesnes. But the Norman princes, not content with spreading their
parks all over the country, and with seizing upon the lands of the
church and the poor to make them great hunting-grounds and deer-parks,
established cruel laws therewith, so that whosoever slew a hart or a
hind should be deprived of his eyesight; and Duke William forbade men
to kill the hart or the boar, and, as our Saxon chronicler saith, he
loved the tall deer as if he were their father! and likewise he decreed
that none should kill so much as a hare, and at this the rich men
bemoaned and the poor men shuddered. Old England will not be England
until these un-Saxon laws be entirely gone from us!][151]
From this good sport Lord Hereward returned to the house about an hour
before the sun reached the meridian, and then was served the abundant
dinner in the hall; and the not stinted dinner in the kitchen for the
churls and serfs followed the dinner in the hall. If the weather was
fine, the lady as well as the lord went out in the afternoon to hawk,
or to fish, or to see the pleasant and profitable sport of their expert
fenners who snared the wild fowl, or took the animals of the chace by
means of _fovea_ or deep pitfalls which they cunningly dug in the
ground in the likeliest places, and still more cunningly concealed by
laying across them sticks, and twigs, and moss, and turf. As the sun
set they returned again to the house and sang in concert with all the
household the _Ave Maria_ or they went into the little church and heard
the full service of Vespers. Upon these duties of religion there
followed a slight _merenda_ or afternoon’s drinking, or refection
between dinner and supper; and then Elfric or some other skilful wight
made music in the hall by playing upon the harp and singing; or
Alefricus, that learned clerk, brought down a book and read in it, or
the freedmen and elders of the township gathered round the cheerful
hearth with the lord and ladie, and related tales and legends of the
old times, or took counsel with Hereward as to the future. If a Saxon
gleeman came that way he was ever welcome; and these evening hours were
often made to pass away the more pleasantly by the arrival of such a
stranger, who, mayhap, could sing a new song, or tell an unheard tale,
or give some little intelligence of what was passing in the upland
country and in the world beyond the fens. No Saxon chief of fame ever
stinted the bard; and whether he went south or north, east or west, the
menestrel found every hall open to him, and had but to speak his wants
and to raise his grateful voice, and all and more than he wanted was
given unto him. When he entered a house they brought him water to wash
his hands and warm water for his feet, or they prepared for him the
warm bath, which was ever offered in good Saxon houses on the arrival
of an honoured and welcome guest—and where was the guest that could be
more welcome than the bard? So dearly did the Lord of Brunn love the
sound of the harp that it was his occasional custom now, and his
constant custom in after-life, to place a harper near his bedchamber to
amuse and solace him upon occasion, and for the exhilaration of his
spirits and as an excitement to devotion. And it was because Hereward
so loved menestrels, and pious and learned men of the Saxon stock, that
his friends and adherents were so numerous while he was living, and his
deeds so faithfully recorded and lovingly preserved when he was dead.
Thus music and talk brought on the hour for supper; and after supper
the good mass-priest said prayers in the hall to gentle and simple; and
then, when a good watch had been set, all of the household went to
their beds and prayed to lead as happy a life on the morrow as that
which they had led to day: for, whether serfs, or free-born men, or
manumitted churls, all were happy at Ey, and most kindly entreated by
lord and ladie twain; in such sort that what happened in other houses,
as the running away of serfs, or the putting collars round their necks
and gyves to their legs to prevent their running away, never happened
here or at Brunn.
And if they lived thus happily and orderly for these few days at Ey,
when danger was close at hand, and when they might be said to be living
in the midst of perils and uncertainties, I wist their rule was not
changed at a later time of their lives, when Hereward and Alftrude came
to dwell in safety and tranquility at the noble old house at Brunn.
But during these few tranquil days at Ey the young bride’s mind was at
times clouded by the thought that her husband must soon leave her to
contend with the pitiless Normans, and to rush into all the hazards of
war; and, Saxon-hearted as she was, this afflictive thought, being
aided by the gentleness of her nature, which ever revolted at
bloodshed, made her long for a peace upon almost any terms, not even
excepting that of submission to the Norman dominion. “My Hereward!”
said the Ladie Alftrude, “it is now more than four years since the
banner of King Harold was laid low, and yet blood hath never ceased
flowing in England! When will this cruel war come to an end? Oh,
Hereward, why wilt thou leave me again, and so soon? What art thou
fighting for?”
“Sweet Alftrude,” quoth the Lord of Brunn, “I am fighting for my
country, for the Saxon church, and for mine own inheritance! A man can
hardly have more to fight for!”
“But, Hereward, is not all the country, save this most fenny part of
it, quietly submitting to the Conqueror! Doth not Lanfranc the
archbishop give assurance that no lasting usurpation of the goods of
the church is contemplated, and that it is his wish and intention only
to improve the Saxon church and the great and rich Saxon houses of
religion by bringing over from foreign parts some more learned priests,
and more learned and more active monks? And are not these broad lands
enough for thee and me? Nay, frown not! and might not thine own lands
at Brunn be secured if thou wouldst submit and take the peace of the
Norman ruler? Forgive me if I err, as the error all proceeds from the
love I bear thee and the dread I have of losing thee. England, we are
told, was happy under the dominion of Canute the Dane, and what was
King Canute in England but a conqueror? And if Englishmen were happy
under one foreign conqueror, might they not be happy under another?”
“Not so, sweet Alftrude. Canute was contented to govern according to
the old Saxon laws. When he gave some new laws, they were the freest
and best that were ever given until those of Edward the Confessor, and
they were given with counsel of his Witan, a free and honoured
assemblage of Saxon lords and Saxon bishops, Saxon abbats and priests,
and Saxon eldermen.[152] And in those dooms or laws King Canute,
speaking with and for the Saxon Witan, said that just laws should be
established, and every unjust law carefully suppressed, and that every
injustice should be weeded out and rooted up from this country; and
that God’s justice should be exalted; and that thenceforth every man,
whether poor or rich, should be esteemed worthy of his folk-right, and
have just dooms[153] doomed to him. And likewise did Canute, in these
dooms, which were conceived in the mild Saxon spirit, raise his voice
and set his face against death punishments and all barbarous penalties.
‘And we instruct and command,’ said he, ‘that though a man sin and sin
deeply, his correction shall be so regulated as to be becoming before
God and tolerable before men; and let him who hath power of judgment
very earnestly bear in mind what he himself desires when he thus
prays—Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass
against us. And we command that Christian men be not, on any account,
for altogether too little, condemned to death, but rather let gentle
punishments be decreed, for the benefit of the people; and let not be
destroyed, for little God’s handiwork, and his own purchase which he
dearly bought.’ Thus said King Canute in his dooms, and in his days men
in power were made to act according to those mild laws. But how is it
now, under the Normans? My gentle-hearted bride, I would not wring thy
heart and bring tears into thine eyes, but is it not true that for any
wrong done or offence given—nay, for the allowable deed of defending
their own, and standing up for their country, Saxons of all degrees are
butchered like sheep in the shambles, or are put to slow and horrible
deaths, or are mutilated in the limbs, or have their eyes put out, as
if it were no sin to spoil and destroy God’s noblest handiwork? Nay, is
not the life of a Saxon held as a thing of less price than the life of
a small deer? By our old laws, if the greatest thane in the land slew
but the poorest serf or lowliest churl, he made bot for it; but now,
and even in those parts of England where the war hath ceased, if the
meanest Norman soldier kill twenty Saxon serfs or slay a Saxon lord, no
heed is taken of it. The Saxons have no redress except that which they
may find in their own swords. Even in London city, there is one law for
the Saxons and another law for the Normans. If a Saxon be accused of
murder or robbery he is bound to justify himself according to our
ancient custom, by compurgation, and by the ordeal of red-hot iron or
boiling water; but if a Frenchman be accused of the like crime by a
Saxon, he vindicates himself by duello or single combat, or simply by
his oath, according to the law of Normandie. King Canute said, ‘Let the
free people of England manage their own townships and shires, and learn
to govern themselves; let no man apply to the king unless he cannot get
justice within his own hundred; let there be thrice a-year a
burgh-gemot, and twice a-year a shire-gemot, unless there be need
oftener; and let there be present the bishop of the shire and the
elderman, and there let both expound as well the law of God as the law
of man.’ But William the Norman alloweth not of these free things;
William the Norman consulteth not the Witan of the nation, but
governeth the country through a Norman council. When he was coming back
from his pilgrimage to Rome, King Canute sent a long letter to Egelnoth
the metropolitan,[154] to Archbishop Alfric, to all bishops and chiefs,
and to all the nation of the English, both nobles and commoners,
greeting them all, and telling them all that he had dedicated his life
to God, to govern his kingdoms with justice, and to observe the right
in all things. ‘And therefore,’ said he, ‘I beg and command those unto
whom I have entrusted the government, as they wish to preserve my good
will, and save their own souls, to do no injustice either to rich or to
poor: and let those who are noble, and those who are not, equally
obtain their rights according to their laws, from which no departure
shall be allowed either from fear of me, or through favour to the
powerful, or to the end of supplying my treasury, for _I want no money
raised by injustice_.’ But what saith this Norman William? He saith,
‘Get me all the money ye can, and heed not the means!’ And hath he not
extorted money by right and by unright? And have not his greedy
followers done worse than he in the land? And are they not building
castles everywhere to make robbers’ dens of them? And have they not
made beggars of the rich, and miserably swinked[155] the poor—aye,
even where resistance was none after Hastings, and where the Saxons
prostrated themselves and trusted to the promises and oaths pledged by
William at Westminster and Berkhampstead, that he would govern the land
according to our old laws? For the church, my sweet Alftrude, I see not
that it is to be improved by thrusting out peaceful monks and priests
of English birth, and by thrusting in turbulent fighting priests, who
speak not and comprehend not the tongue of the English people. Better
men may come hereafter; but, certes, it is but an ungodly crew which,
as yet hath followed Duke William, and Lanfranc, the whilom Abbat of
Caen, into England! Touching my poor house and lands at Brunn, it is
not by a mean submission to Duke William that I should ever keep them
from Raoul the Norman plunderer that had seized upon them. They must be
kept at the sword’s point, and at the sword’s point must these thine
own good house and lands be maintained. The protection of Lanfranc,
given to the noble maiden and heiress of Ey, will not be extended to
the wife of Hereward of Brunn, whom Normans call a rebel and an outlaw.
Oh Alftrude, the wife of a soldier like me, and in a war like this,
hath need of a soldier’s heart within her own bosom!”
“And I will find it or make it there, mine own Hereward! I knew the
danger, and all the risk, and thou thyself toldest me of it all before
I became thine. As I live and love thee, and by all the saints to whom
I pray for better times, I was thinking less of myself than of thee
when I spoke that which I have spoken. Thou knowest the state of these
great matters better than a poor woman can know them, albeit I can
understand the difference between Canute the Dane and William the
Norman. If submission will not avail, or if submission be
dishonouring”....
“It were in the lowest degree base and dishonourable; for although I
came over into England at thy summons, it was to fight, and not to
submit; and I have since so pledged my faith to the Abbat of Ely and to
all the good lords in the Camp of Refuge, that I would rather perish in
these the first days of my happiness than forego or wax cold in the
good cause.”
“Then fight on, mine own brave Hereward! And come what may, I will
never murmur so that I be near to thee; and whether we live in plenty
at Ey or at Brunn, or wander through the wild fens poorer and more
unprovided than is the poorest churl that now dwelleth within these
gates, thou shalt hear no complaint from me. Let not the wide seas, and
evil tongues, and false tales divide us evermore, and I shall be happy.”
“And with such a bride, and such a wife, I shall be invincible. Cheer
up, my own Alftrude! If submission will bring down utter ruin as well
as utter shame, a bold and persevering resistance, and an unflinching
hand-to-hand fight with the enemy, may bring her old laws and liberties
back to England, and bring to us glory and happiness, and a peaceful
and honoured life in after-times. I would be a peaceful man, even now,
if so I might, and if I had less to fight for; for, albeit, I love the
art and stratagems of war, and the rapture that is given by the
well-contested combat, I love not much blood, and never could get
myself to hate any man or parties of men, for any length of time. Were
their rule less cruel and tyrannical to the English people, and were my
good friends and allies secured in their lives, honours, and
properties, I could sit down quietly and in good fellowship with these
same Norman knights; nay, I would not refuse a seat on my hearth to Ivo
Taille-Bois, or even to his brother Geoffroy.”
“Name not that ugly name,” said the Lady Alftrude, blushing a little.
And here the discourses ended. The gentle lady had strengthened her
heart with the great love that was in it, so as to bear whatsoever
might befall her as the mate of Lord Hereward, the last champion of the
Saxon liberties.
While the lord and lady talked this above stairs, there was something
of the like discourse below stairs between the waiting-woman and the
sword-bearer; for maid Mildred, merry as she was, could not but feel
that Elfric was running a course of great peril, and that peace and
tranquility would be a blessed thing, if it could only be obtained.
Albeit the young sword-bearer spoke not so knowingly of the old Saxon
laws, and the dooms[156] of King Canute, and of Witans and Gemots, as
did his lord, he found sufficiently good arguments to show that the war
was a just and unavoidable war; and that while everything was to be
hoped from bravery, there was nothing to be gotten by a timid
submission. There was another consideration:—“But for this war,” said
Elfric, “I must have become a monk! I am now a soldier and liege-man to
Lord Hereward, and ready, as soon as the lord and ladie permit, to be
thy loving husband, oh Mildred of Hadenham!”