The time of year customary for the National Assembly; the recent
consecration of Westminster, for which Edward had convened all his chief
spiritual lords, the anxiety felt for the infirm state of the King, and
the interest as to the impending succession--all concurred to permit the
instantaneous meeting of a Witan worthy, from rank and numbers, to meet
the emergency of the time, and proceed to the most momentous election
ever yet known in England. The thegns and prelates met in haste.
Harold’s marriage with Aldyth, which had taken place but a few weeks
before, had united all parties with his own; not a claim counter to the
great Earl’s was advanced; the choice was unanimous. The necessity of
terminating at such a crisis all suspense throughout the kingdom, and
extinguishing the danger of all counter intrigues, forbade to men thus
united any delay in solemnising their decision; and the august obsequies
of Edward were followed on the same day by the coronation of Harold.
It was in the body of the mighty Abbey Church, not indeed as we see it
now, after successive restorations and remodellings, but simple in its
long rows of Saxon arch and massive column, blending the first Teuton
with the last Roman masonries, that the crowd of the Saxon freemen
assembled to honour the monarch of their choice. First Saxon king, since
England had been one monarchy, selected not from the single House of
Cerdic--first Saxon king, not led to the throne by the pale shades of
fabled ancestors tracing their descent from the Father-God of the Teuton,
but by the spirits that never know a grave--the arch-eternal givers of
crowns, and founders of dynasties-Valour and Fame.
Alred and Stigand, the two great prelates of the realm, had conducted
Harold to the church [219], and up the aisle to the altar, followed by
the chiefs of the Witan in their long robes; and the clergy with their
abbots and bishops sung the anthems--“Fermetur manus tua,” and “Gloria
Patri.”
And now the music ceased; Harold prostrated himself before the altar, and
the sacred melody burst forth with the great hymn, “Te Deum.”
As it ceased, prelate and thegn raised their chief from the floor, and in
imitation of the old custom of Teuton and Northman--when the lord of
their armaments was borne on shoulder and shield--Harold mounted a
platform, and rose in full view of the crowd.
“Thus,” said the arch-prelate, “we choose Harold son of Godwin for lord
and for king.” And the thegns drew round, and placed hand on Harold’s
knee, and cried aloud, “We choose thee, O Harold, for lord and for king.”
And row by row, line by line, all the multitude shouted forth, “We choose
thee, O Harold, for lord and king.” So there he stood with his calm
brow, facing all, Monarch of England, and Basileus of Britain.
Now unheeded amidst the throng, and leaning against a column in the
arches of the aisle, was a woman with her veil round her face; and she
lifted the veil for a moment to gaze on that lofty brow, and the tears
were streaming fast down her cheek, but her face was not sad.
“Let the vulgar not see, to pity or scorn thee, daughter of kings as
great as he who abandons and forsakes thee!” murmured a voice in her ear;
and the form of Hilda, needing no support from column or wall, rose erect
by the side of Edith. Edith bowed her head and lowered the veil, as the
King descended the platform and stood again by the altar, while clear
through the hushed assembly rang the words of his triple promise to his
people:
“Peace to His Church and the Christian flock.”
“Interdict of rapacity and injustice.”
“Equity and mercy in his judgments, as God the gracious and just might
show mercy to him.”
And deep from the hearts of thousands came the low “Amen.”
Then after a short prayer, which each prelate repeated, the crowd saw
afar the glitter of the crown held over the head of the King. The voice
of the consecrator was heard, low till it came to the words “So potently
and royally may he rule, against all visible and invisible foes, that the
royal throne of the Angles and Saxons may not desert his sceptre.”
As the prayer ceased, came the symbolical rite of anointment. Then
pealed the sonorous organ [220], and solemn along the aisles rose the
anthem that closed with the chorus which the voice of the multitude
swelled, “May the King live for ever!” Then the crown that had gleamed
in the trembling hand of the prelate, rested firm in its splendour on the
front of the King. And the sceptre of rule, and the rod of justice, “to
sooth the pious and terrify the bad,” were placed in the royal hands.
And the prayer and the blessings were renewed,--till the close; “Bless,
Lord, the courage of this Prince, and prosper the works of his hand.
With his horn, as the horn of the rhinoceros, may he blow the waters to
the extremities of the earth; and may He who has ascended to the skies be
his aid for ever!”
Then Hilda stretched forth her hand to lead Edith from the place. But
Edith shook her head and murmured “But once again, but once!” and with
involuntary step moved on.
Suddenly, close where she paused, the crowd parted, and down the narrow
lane so formed amidst the wedged and breathless crowd came the august
procession;--prelate and thegn swept on from the Church to the palace;
and alone, with firm and measured step, the diadem on his brow, the
sceptre in his hand, came the King. Edith checked the rushing impulse at
her heart, but she bent forward, with veil half drawn aside, and so gazed
on that face and form of more than royal majesty, fondly, proudly. The
King swept on and saw her not; love lived no more for him.