REIGNS OF HAROLD HAREFOOT AND HARDICANUTE.
"What need I fear of thee?
But yet I'll make assurance doubly sure,
And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live,
That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies,
And sleep in spite of thunder."
BARNARDINE. "I have been drinking hard all night;
I will not consent to die this day, that's certain.
DUKE. O, sir, you must: and therefore I beseech you,
Look forward on the journey you shall go."
SHAKSPERE.
While even the succession to the Saxon throne was sometimes disputed
when not a doubt remained about the right of a claimant to the crown,
it will not be wondered at, as at his death Canute left three sons,
two of whom were beyond doubt illegitimate, that there should be
some difference of opinion among the chiefs and earls respecting the
election of a new sovereign. Hardicanute was the undoubted offspring
of Emma and Canute; she, it will be remembered, being the widow of
Ethelred at the time of her marriage with the Danish king. There
is a doubt whether Harold, who ascended the throne after the death
of Canute, was in any way related to the Danish king; or that his
pretended mother, whose name was Alfgiva, and who was never married
to Canute, finding that she was likely to have no children, passed
off the son of a poor cobbler--whom she named Harold--as her own. It
is said that Swein, the other reputed son of Canute, was introduced
by her in the same way. The latter, Canute placed upon the throne of
Norway during his lifetime, also expressing a wish before his death
that Harold should rule over England, and that Hardicanute, his
undisputed son, should succeed him as king of Denmark. Beside these
claimants, it must be borne in mind that the children of Ethelred were
still alive, although, as we have before shown, wholly neglected by
the twice-widowed queen, Emma. The witena-gemot assembled at Oxford
to elect a new sovereign; and as there were by this time several
Danish chiefs among the council, a division at once took place, the
Danish party making choice of Harold, while the Saxons, headed by the
powerful earl Godwin, once the humble cowherd, preferred Hardicanute,
because his mother had been the wife of a Saxon king. A third party
advocated the claims of the sons of Ethelred, who were still in
Normandy. Leofric, earl of Mercia, ranged his forces on the side of
Harold; and even London shook off its allegiance to the old Saxon line,
and proclaimed in his favour.
Although Hardicanute was in Denmark, earl Godwin resolved to maintain
his right to the throne; and it was not until the country was on the
very eve of a civil war, and when many of the inhabitants had fled into
the wild parts to avoid its ravages, that the Saxon earl compelled the
partisans of Harold to give up all the provinces south of the Thames
to Hardicanute. Thus Godwin and Emma ruled in the south, in behalf of
Hardicanute, and held their court at Winchester; while Harold, with
London for his capital, and the whole country north of the Thames for
his dominions, was acknowledged king of England; although it is on
record, that the archbishop refused to crown him, because the children
of Ethelred were still alive; that he even forbade any of the bishops
to administer the benediction, but placing the crown and sceptre upon
the altar, left him to crown, anoint, and bless himself as he best
could.
But whoever's son Harold might be, he resented this slight with all
the spirit of a true sea-king. He crowned himself without the aid of
the Saxon bishops; despised their blessings, and, instead of attending
church, sallied out with his hounds to hunt during the hours of divine
service; and so fleet was he of foot in following the chase, that he
obtained the surname of Harefoot. He set no store by the Christian
religion, but defied all the bishops in Christendom, sounded his
hunting horn while the holy anthem was chaunted, and conducted himself
in every way like a hard-drinking, misbelieving Dane.
We again arrive at one of those mysterious incidents which occasionally
darken the pages of history, and render it difficult to get at the
real actors of the tragedy. A letter is written--the sons of Ethelred
are invited over to England. One arrives--he is to all appearance
hospitably received; in the night his followers are murdered, and he
himself shortly after put to a most cruel death. That the events we
are about to record took place, has never been doubted; the obscurity
that will, probably, for ever reign around them, conceals the real
instigator of the deed.
Emma, it appears, was at this time living at the court of Harold in
London, when a letter arrived at Normandy (as if from her), earnestly
urging her sons, Edward and Alfred, to return to England--stating, that
the Saxons were already weary of the Danish king, and were anxious to
place the crown upon either of their heads. The letter was answered by
Alfred, the youngest, appearing in person, accompanied by a troop of
Norman soldiers; which was contrary to the advice of the letter, as the
instructions it contained especially requested them to come secretly.
He first attempted to land at Sandwich, but why he altered his mind,
and went round the North Foreland, has never been satisfactorily
accounted for; for we cannot see what difference it made whether earl
Godwin received him at one point or the other. It is, however, just
probable that a party of Danes, or those who were favourable to Harold,
may by chance, or by command, have been stationed at the spot Alfred
first selected for debarkation, the secret having got bruited abroad.
But be this as it may, the Saxon prince at last landed somewhere
between Herne-bay and the Isle of Sheppy, and when he had advanced a
short distance into the country he was met by earl Godwin, who swore
fealty to him, and promised to bring him safely to his mother Emma,
wishing him, however, to avoid London, where Harold then resided, and
with whom there is some slight reason to believe Godwin was now in
league, though this suspicion hangs by a very slender thread. It is
probable that the powerful earl took a dislike to the strong body of
Normans who accompanied Alfred; and, jealous that the power he sought
to obtain by raising the Saxon prince to the throne of England might be
weakened by these retainers, he resolved to cut them off at once, then
make the best terms he could.
The Saxon prince and his followers, who amounted to about seven
hundred, were quartered for the night in the town of Guildford, just as
accommodation could be found for them, in parties of ten and twelve--in
every lodging abundance of meat and drink was provided. Earl Godwin was
in attendance upon Alfred until late at night, and when he departed,
he promised to wait upon him early in the morning. Morning came, but
the earl made not his appearance, and it would not be unreasonable
to suppose that the partisans of Harold had heard of the arrival of
Godwin, that they entered Guildford in the night, and that Godwin
and his followers, who were unequal to cope with the Danish force,
escaped. Further, that these were the Danes whom Alfred had seen while
off Sandwich, and, since the course of his steering round the North
Foreland, and landing near the Isle of Sheppy, they had crossed the
country. If so, the Saxon prince and his Norman followers must have
marched through Kent and into Surrey, within a few miles of the Danish
army, who were probably watching the motions of both Godwin and Alfred.
Harold may have caused the letter to have been written, and confided
his plans to Godwin, and the latter have resolved to rescue the son
of Ethelred from the snare that was set to entrap him, for Godwin was
fully competent to execute such an act if a favourable opportunity
offered itself. Emma may have been in earnest, yet her purpose before
accomplished might have been betrayed, for although she is accused
of having been an unkind mother, there is no proof of that cruelty
of disposition evinced, which would justify us in concluding that
she countenanced the murder of her son. She might cling more fondly
to Hardicanute, who was her youngest child, than to the rest--such
a feeling is not uncommon. But these doubts and reasons might be
multiplied into pages, and then we should probably be as wide apart
from the truth.
In the old town of Guildford, above 900 years ago, nearly seven hundred
foreigners, most of them strangers to England, retired to rest, some
fondly dreaming of the possessions they should obtain when the prince
whose fortunes they followed ascended the throne. Weary with their
long journey, others would fall at once to sleep, without bestowing a
thought upon the morrow, for that night there appears to have been no
lack of either food or wine. When hark, hark! it is the dead midnight,
and the chambers in which they sleep are filled with armed men--figures
in armour, some holding lights, others with their swords pointed, bend
over them--men who grasp strong spears are stationed at the doors--some
bind their arms with cords--they attempt to reach their weapons, but
find they have been removed--some struggle for a few moments, but are
speedily overpowered. Chains and ropes are at hand, stern-looking men
set their teeth together, and kneel upon them until their limbs are
bound--and in every house at the self same hour they are all secured
and made prisoners. A few defended themselves and were slain. What
a night must that have been in the old town of Guildford--what Saxon
hearts must have ached at day-dawn, when the maidens beheld the young
and handsome foreigners led to execution! for some, doubtless, over
their cups, had boasted, that when the Saxon prince had "regained his
own," they would return again--and fond, foolish old mothers, whose
hearts beat in favour of the royal Saxon, may have wetted their lips,
and drank destruction to the Danes, and talked about what they had
heard their great-grandmothers say of Alfred the Great, and hoped that
he who then aspired to the throne would be found worthy of the name he
bore:--for a hundred years would only have added to the fame of the
great king, and in that old Saxon town there were doubtless many living
whose ancestors had fought under Alfred the Great.
The morning that dawned upon the grey country witnessed the execution
of the Normans; they were led to death in tens, and one out of every
ten was left alive--the rest perished; but whether beheaded by the
battle-axe, or pierced through with the sword or spear, or hung upon
the nearest oak, history has not recorded. But whether Godwin or Harold
was the cause of their death will never now be known. Vengeance, who
is never silent, bore their dying groans to the shores of Normandy,
and from that hour Revenge rose up, and, with his red right arm bared,
pointed with his bloody sword to the shores of England. For thirty
years that grim landmark stood pointing over the sea, until at last it
leaped from the stormy headland, and led the way to the blood-stained
shores of Britain.
Meantime, the Saxon prince was carried captive to London, when, after
having endured the insults and reproaches of Harold, he was hurried off
to Ely, to be tried by a mock court of Danish judges, who, after having
offered him every insult they could invent, cruelly sentenced him to
lose his eyes. The barbarous sentence was fulfilled, and a day or two
after its execution death put an end to the sufferings of Alfred.
After the death of Alfred, Emma was banished from England by the
command of Harold; an act which goes far to prove that she had been
instrumental in tempting her ill-starred son to visit England, though
it seems somewhat strange that she should take up her residence at
Bruges, while her son Edward, who was the true heir to the English
throne, yet resided in Normandy. She, however, despatched messengers
to Denmark, intreating her son Hardicanute to revenge the death of
his maternal brother Alfred, who, she said, had been betrayed by earl
Godwin, and assassinated by the command of Harold. During the remainder
of the reign of Harold Harefoot, we lose sight of earl Godwin, so that
if even he had any share in the plot which terminated in the murder of
the young prince, it appears not to have advanced his interests at the
court of Harold; who, before the close of his reign, attained the full
title of king of England. Nor does it appear that Hardicanute ever set
foot on the territory allotted to him by the council of Oxford, on the
south of the Thames; and which, as we have shown, was held for a time
on his behalf by Godwin, and his mother, Emma of Normandy. The son of
Canute was at Bruges with his mother, having retired thither to consult
her previous to his meditated invasion of England, when a deputation
arrived there, from England, announcing the death of Harold. He had
already left a strong fleet at the mouth of the Baltic, ready at his
command, when the first favourable wind blew, to commence hostilities
against Britain; nine ships, well armed, had also accompanied him on
his visit to his mother, in Flanders, when, just as his plan of attack
was decided upon, and all was in readiness for the invasion, Harold's
brief and blood-stained reign terminated, in the year 1040, and he was
buried at Westminster.
Nearly the first act that disgraced the reign of Hardicanute, was his
disinterment of the body of Harold; which, after having exhumed and
decapitated, he commanded to be thrown into the Thames, from which it
was taken out by a Danish fisherman, and again interred in a cemetery
in London, where the Danes only buried their dead. His next act was
to summon earl Godwin before a court of justice, in which he was
accused of being instrumental in procuring the death of Alfred. At
the appointed day Godwin appeared; and, according to a law which was
at that period extant, procured a sufficient number of witnesses to
swear that they believed he was innocent of the crime of which he was
accused. Godwin stepped forward, and swore, by the holy sacrament,
"In the Lord: I am innocent, both in word and deed, of the charge of
which I am accused." The witnesses then came forward, and taking the
oath, exclaimed, "In the Lord: the oath is clean and upright that Earl
Godwin has sworn." Simple and inefficient as such a mode of trial may
appear, it must be borne in mind that perjury was in those days visited
with the severest punishment; not confined merely to bodily pain, the
infliction of a heavy penalty, or the loss of worldly goods--but a
perjured man was classed with witches, murderers, sorcerers, the wolf
heads, and outcasts of society; and if slain, no one took cognizance of
his death; he was debarred even from the trial of ordeal, and whether
he was murdered or died, was refused the rites of Christian burial.
Although Alfred had established the trial by jury, such a judicial
custom as Godwin availed himself of continued to exist after the Norman
conquest.
Such a legal proof, however, was not sufficient to satisfy the cupidity
of Hardicanute; and the earl was compelled to purchase his favour
by presenting him with a splendid ship, richly gilt, and manned by
eighty warriors, armed with helmet and hauberk, each bearing a sword,
a battle-axe, and a javelin, and their arms ornamented with golden
bracelets, each of which weighed sixteen ounces. A Saxon bishop was
also accused of having been leagued with Godwin, and he followed
the example of the earl, by purchasing the king's favour with rich
presents, which at this period appear to have been the readiest mode of
procuring an acquittal. The two brief years that Hardicanute reigned,
he seems to have passed in feasting and drinking; his banqueting table
was spread out four times a-day, and his carousals carried far into
the night. Such excesses could only be kept up by constant supplies
of money; his "Huscarles," or household troops, were ever out levying
taxes; and as these armed collectors were all Danes, many of them
descendants of the old sea-kings, it will be readily imagined that the
Saxons were the greatest sufferers, and compelled to contribute more
than their share to this infamous Dane-geld, as the tax was called. But
these marauders, although armed by kingly authority, did not always
escape scathless. The inhabitants of Worcester rose up and killed
two of the chiefs, who were somewhat too arbitrarily exceeding their
duty. Hardicanute ordered a Danish army to march at once against the
rebels, but when the authorized forces came up, they found the city
abandoned; the inhabitants had forsaken their houses, and strongly
entrenched themselves in a neighbouring island, and though a great
part of the city was destroyed, the people remained unconquered. Such
a brave example was not lost upon the Saxons. Opposition was now
offered in many quarters, and the Danish yoke at last became lighter;
for Hardicanute seemed to care but little how his kingdom was ruled, so
that his table was every day laden with good cheer, and his wine-cup
filled whenever he called for it; for he had been nursed in the cradle
of the sea-kings, and his chief delight was to sit surrounded by these
stormy sons of the ocean, and to drink healths three fathom deep.
Altogether, Hardicanute seems to have been a merry thoughtless king. He
invited his half-brother, Edward, the son of Ethelred, over to England,
and gave him and his Norman followers a warm welcome at his court;
left his mother Emma, and earl Godwin, to manage the kingdom as they
pleased, and died as he had lived, a hard-drinker, with the wine-cup in
his hand.
It was at a marriage-feast, somewhere in Lambeth, in the year 1042,
when Hardicanute drank his last draught. At a late hour in the night he
rose, staggering, with the wine-cup in his hand, and pledged the merry
company that were assembled--then drinking such a draught as only the
son of a sea-king could swallow, he fell down senseless upon the floor,
"and never word again spake he." He was buried near his father Canute,
in the church of Winchester. With his death ended the Danish race of
kings; and Edward, the son of Ethelred, the descendant of a long line
of Saxon monarchs, ascended the throne of England.