THE SEQUEL.
The romantic story of Godwin forms the sequel to the history of
Alfred, leading us onward, as it does, toward the next great era in
English history, that of William the Conqueror.
Although, as we have seen in the last chapter, the immediate effects
of Alfred's measures was to re-establish peace and order in his
kingdom, and although the institutions which he founded have continued
to expand and develop themselves down to the present day, still it
must not be supposed that the power and prosperity of his kingdom and
of the Saxon dynasty continued wholly uninterrupted after his death.
Contentions and struggles between the two great races of Saxons
and Danes continued for some centuries to agitate the island. The
particular details of these contentions have in these days, in a
great measure, lost their interest for all but professed historical
scholars. It is only the history of great leading events and the lives
of really extraordinary men, in the annals of early ages, which can
now attract the general attention even of cultivated minds. The vast
movements which have occurred and are occurring in the history of
mankind in the present century, throw every thing except what is
really striking and important in early history into the shade.
The era which comes next in the order of time to that of Alfred in the
course of English history, as worthy to arrest general attention, is,
as we have already said, that of William the Conqueror. The life of
this sovereign forms the subject of a separate volume of this series.
He lived two centuries after Alfred's day; and although, for the
reasons above given, a full chronological narration of the contentions
between the Saxon and Danish lines of kings which took place during
this interval would be of little interest or value, some general
knowledge of the state of the kingdom at this time is important, and
may best be communicated in connection with the story of Godwin.
Godwin was by birth a Saxon peasant, of Warwickshire. At the time when
he arrived at manhood, and was tending his father's flocks and herds
like other peasants' sons, the Saxons and the Danes were at war. It
seems that one of Alfred's descendants, named Ethelred, displeased his
people by his misgovernment, and was obliged to retire from England.
He went across the Channel, and married there the sister of a Norman
chief named Richard. Her name was Emma. Ethelred hoped by this
alliance to obtain Richard's assistance in enabling him to recover his
kingdom. The Danish population, however, took advantage of his absence
to put one of their own princes upon the throne. His name was Canute.
He figures in English history, accordingly, among the other English
kings, as Canute the Dane, that appellation being given him to mark
the distinction of his origin in respect to the kings who preceded and
followed him, as they were generally of the Saxon line.
It was this Canute of whom the famous story is told that, in order to
rebuke his flatterers, who, in extolling his grandeur and power, had
represented to him that even the elements were subservient to his
will, he took his stand upon the sea-shore when the tide was coming
in, with his flatterers by his side, and commanded the rising waves
not to approach his royal feet. He kept his sycophantic courtiers in
this ridiculous position until the encroaching waters drove them away,
and then dismissed them overwhelmed with confusion. The story is told
in a thousand different ways, and with a great variety of different
embellishments, according to the fancy of the several narrators; all
that there is now any positive evidence for believing, however, is,
that probably some simple incident of the kind occurred, out of which
the stories have grown.
Canute did not hold his kingdom in peace. Ethelred sent his son across
the Channel into England to negotiate with the Anglo-Saxon powers for
his own restoration to the throne. An arrangement was accordingly made
with them, and Ethelred returned, and a violent civil war immediately
ensued between Ethelred and the Anglo-Saxons on the one hand, and
Canute and the Danes on the other. At length Ethelred fell, and his
son Edmund, who was at the time of his death one of his generals,
succeeded him. Emma and his two other sons had been left in Normandy.
Edmund carried on the war against Canute with great energy. One of his
battles was fought in the county of Warwick, in the heart of England,
where the peasant Godwin lived. In this battle the Danes were
defeated, and the discomfited generals fled in all directions from the
field wherever they saw the readiest hope of concealment or safety.
One of them, named Ulf,[1] took a by-way, which led him in the
direction of Godwin's father's farm.
Night came on, and he lost his way in a wood. Men, when flying under
such circumstances from a field of battle, avoid always the public
roads, and seek concealment in unfrequented paths, where, they easily
get bewildered and lost. Ulf wandered about all night in the forest,
and when the morning came he found himself exhausted with fatigue,
anxiety, and hunger, certain to perish unless he could find some
succor, and yet dreading the danger of being recognized as a Danish
fugitive if he were to be discovered by any of the Saxon inhabitants
of the land. At length he heard the shouts of a peasant who was coming
along a solitary pathway through the wood, driving a herd to their
pasture. Ulf would gladly have avoided him if he could have gone on
without succor or help. His plan was to find his way to the Severn,
where some Danish ships were lying, in hopes of a refuge on board
of them. But he was exhausted with hunger and fatigue, and utterly
bewildered and lost; so he was compelled to go forward, and take the
risk of accosting the Saxon stranger.
He accordingly went up to him, and asked him his name. Godwin told him
his name, and the name of his father, who lived, he said, at a little
distance in the wood. While he was answering the question, he gazed
very earnestly at the stranger, and then told him that he perceived
that he was a Dane--a fugitive, he supposed, from the battle. Ulf,
thus finding that he could not be concealed, begged Godwin not to
betray him. He acknowledged that he was a Dane, and that he had made
his escape from the battle, and he wished, he said, to find his way to
the Danish ships in the Severn. He begged Godwin to conduct him there.
Godwin replied by saying that it was unreasonable and absurd for a
Dane to expect guidance and protection from a Saxon.
Ulf offered Godwin all sorts of rewards if he would leave his herd and
conduct him to a place of safety. Godwin said that the attempt, were
he to make it, would endanger his own life without saving that of
the fugitive. The country, he said, was all in arms. The peasantry,
emboldened by the late victory obtained by the Saxon army, were every
where rising; and although it was not far to the Severn, yet to
attempt to reach the river while the country was in such a state
of excitement would be a desperate undertaking. They would almost
certainly be intercepted; and, if intercepted, their exasperated
captors would show no mercy, Godwin said, either to him or to his
guide.
Among the other inducements which Ulf offered to Godwin was a valuable
gold ring, which he took from his finger, and which, he said, should
be his if he would consent to be his guide. Godwin took the ring into
his hand, examined it with much apparent curiosity, and seemed to
hesitate. At length he yielded; though he seems to have been induced
to yield, not by the value of the offered gift, but by compassion for
the urgency of the distress which the offer of it indicated, for he
put the ring back into Ulf's hand, saying that he would not take any
thing from him, but he would try to save him.
Instead, however, of undertaking the apparently hopeless enterprise of
conducting Ulf to the Severn, he took him to his father's cottage and
concealed him there. During the day they formed plans for journeying
together, not to the ships in the Severn, but to the Danish camp. They
were to set forth as soon as it was dark. When the evening came
and all was ready, and they were about to commence their dangerous
journey, the old peasant, Godwin's father, with an anxious countenance
and manner, gave Ulf this solemn charge:
"This is my _only_ son. In going forth to guide you under these
circumstances, he puts his life at stake, trusting to your honor. He
can not return to me again, as there will be no more safety for him
among his own countrymen after having once been a guide for you. When,
therefore, you reach the camp, present my son to your king, and ask
him to receive him into his service. He can not come again to me."
Ulf promised very earnestly to do all this and much more for his
protector; and then bidding the father farewell, and leaving him in
his solitude, the two adventurers sallied forth into the dark forest
and went their way.
After various adventures, they reached the camp of the Danes in
safety. Ulf faithfully fulfilled the promises that he had made. He
introduced Godwin to the king, and the king was so much pleased with
the story of his general's escape, and so impressed with the marks of
capacity and talent which the young Saxon manifested, that he gave
Godwin immediately a military command in his army. In fact, a young
man who could leave his home and his father, and abandon the cause
of his countrymen forever under such circumstances, must have had
something besides generosity toward a fugitive enemy to impel him.
Godwin was soon found to possess a large portion of that peculiar
spirit which constitutes a soldier. He was ambitious, stern,
energetic, and always successful. He rose rapidly in influence and
rank, and in the course of a few years, during which King Canute
triumphed wholly over his Saxon enemies, and established his dominion
over almost the whole realm, he was promoted to the rank of a king,
and ruled, second only to Canute himself, over the kingdom of Wessex,
one of the most important divisions of Canute's empire. Here he lived
and reigned in peace and prosperity for many years. He was married,
and he had a daughter named Edith, who was as gentle and lovely as her
father was terrible and stern. They said that Edith sprung from Godwin
like a rose from its stem of thorns.
A writer who lived in those days, and recorded the occurrences of the
times, says that, when he was a boy, his father was employed in some
way in Godwin's palace, and that in going to and from school he was
often met by Edith, who was walking, attended by her maid. On such
occasions Edith would stop him, he said, and question him about his
studies, his grammar, his logic, and his verses; and she would often
draw him into an argument on those subtle points of disputation which
attracted so much attention in those days. Then she would commend him
for his attention and progress, and order her woman to make him a
present of some money. In a word, Edith was so gentle and kind, and
took so cordial an interest in whatever concerned the welfare and
happiness of those around her, that she was universally beloved. She
became in the end, as we shall see in due time, the English queen.
In the mean time, while Godwin was governing, as vicegerent, the
province which Canute had assigned him, Canute himself extended his
own dominion far and wide, reducing first all England under his sway,
and then extending his conquests to the Continent. Edmund, the Saxon
king, was dead. His brothers Edward and Alfred, the two remaining sons
of Ethelred, were with their mother in Normandy. They, of course,
represented the Saxon line. The Saxon portion of Canute's kingdom
would of course look to them as their future leaders. Under these
circumstances, Canute conceived the idea of propitiating the Saxon
portion of the population, and combining, so far as was possible, the
claims of the two lines, by making the widow Emma his own wife. He
made the proposal to her, and she accepted it, pleased with the
idea of being once more a queen. She came to England, and they were
married. In process of time they had a son, who was named Hardicanute,
which means Canute _the strong_.
Canute now felt that his kingdom was secure; and he hoped, by making
Hardicanute his heir, to perpetuate the dominion in his own family. It
is true that he had older children, whom the Danes might look upon as
more properly his heirs; and Emma had also two older children, the
sons of Ethelred, in Normandy. These the _Saxons_ would be likely
to consider as the rightful heirs to the throne. There was danger,
therefore, that at his death parties would again be formed, and the
civil wars break out anew. Canute and Emma therefore seem to have
acted wisely, and to have done all that the nature of the case
admitted to prevent a renewal of these dreadful struggles, by
concentrating their combined influence in favor of Hardicanute, who,
though not absolutely the heir to either line, still combined, in some
degree, the claims of both of them. Canute also did all in his
power to propitiate his Anglo-Saxon subjects. He devoted himself to
promoting the welfare of the kingdom in every way. He built towns, he
constructed roads, he repaired and endowed the churches. He became a
very zealous Christian, evincing the ardor of his piety, whether real
or pretended, by all the forms and indications common in those days.
Finally, to crown all, he went on a pilgrimage to Rome. He set out
on this journey with great pomp and parade, and attended by a large
retinue, and yet still strictly like a pilgrim. He walked, and carried
a wallet on his back, and a long pilgrim's staff in his hand. This
pilgrimage, at the time when it occurred, filled the world with its
fame.
At length King Canute died, and then, unfortunately, it proved that
all his seemingly wise precautions against the recurrence of civil
wars were taken in vain. It happened that Hardicanute, whom he had
intended should succeed him, was in Denmark at the time of his
father's death. Godwin, however, proclaimed him king, and attempted to
establish his authority, and to make Emma a sort of regent, to govern
in his name until he could be brought home. The Danish chieftains, on
the other hand, elected and proclaimed one of Canute's older sons,
whose name was Harold;[2] and they succeeded in carrying a large part
of the country in his favor. Godwin then summoned Emma to join him
in the west with such forces as she could command, and both parties
prepared for war.
Then ensued one of those scenes of terror and suffering which war,
and sometimes the mere fear of war, brings often in its train. It
was expected that the first outbreak of hostilities would be in the
interior of England, near the banks of the Thames, and the inhabitants
of the whole region were seized with apprehensions and fears, which
spread rapidly, increased by the influence of sympathy, and excited
more and more every day by a thousand groundless rumors, until the
whole region was thrown into a state of uncontrollable panic and
confusion. The inhabitants abandoned their dwellings, and fled in
dismay into the eastern part of the island, to seek refuge among the
fens and marshes of Lincolnshire, and of the other counties around.
Here, as has been already stated in a previous chapter when describing
the Abbey of Croyland, were a great many monasteries, and convents,
and hermitages, and other religious establishments, filled with monks
and nuns. The wretched fugitives from the expected scene of war
crowded into this region, besieging the doors of the abbeys and
monasteries to beg for shelter, or food, or protection. Some built
huts among the willow woods which grew in the fens; others encamped at
the road-sides, or under the monastery walls, wherever they could
find the semblance of shelter. They presented, of course, a piteous
spectacle--men infirm with sickness or age, or exhausted with anxiety
and fatigue; children harassed and way-worn; and helpless mothers,
with still more helpless babes at their breasts. The monks, instead
of being moved to compassion by the sight of these unhappy sufferers,
were only alarmed on their own account at such an inundation of
misery. They feared that they should be overwhelmed themselves. Those
whose establishments were large and strong, barred their doors against
the suppliants, and the hermits, who lived alone in detached and
separate solitudes, abandoned their osier huts, and fled themselves to
seek some place more safe from such intrusions.
And yet, after all, the whole scene was only a false alarm. Men acting
in a panic are almost always running into the ills which they think
they shun. The war did not break out on the banks of the Thames at
all. Hardicanute, deterred, perhaps, by the extent of the support
which the claims of Harold were receiving, did not venture to come to
England, and Emma and Godwin, and those who would have taken their
side, having no royal head to lead them, gave up their opposition, and
acquiesced in Harold's reign. The fugitives in the marshes and fens
returned to their homes; the country became tranquil; Godwin held his
province as a sort of lieutenant general of Harold's kingdom, and
Emma herself joined his court in London, where she lived with him
ostensibly on very friendly terms.
Still, her mind was ill at ease. Harold, though the son of her
husband, was not her own son, and the ambitious spirit which led her
to marry for her second husband her first husband's rival and enemy,
that she might be a second time a queen, naturally made her desire
that one of her own offspring, either on the Danish or the Saxon side,
should inherit the kingdom; for the reader must not forget that Emma,
besides being the mother of Hardicanute by her second husband Canute,
the Danish sovereign, was also the mother of Edward and Alfred by her
first husband Ethelred, of the Anglo-Saxon line, and that these two
sons were in Normandy now. The family connection will be more apparent
to the eye by the following scheme:
Ethelred the Saxon. Emma. Canute the Dane.
------\/---------------/\-------------\/--------
Edward. Hardicanute.
Alfred.
Harold was the son of Canute by a former marriage. Emma, of
course, felt no maternal interest in him, and though compelled by
circumstances to acquiesce for a time in his possession of the
kingdom, her thoughts were continually with her own sons; and since
the attempt to bring Hardicanute to the throne had failed, she began
to turn her attention toward her Norman children.
After scheming for a time, she wrote letters to them, proposing
that they should come to England. She represented to them that the
Anglo-Saxon portion of the people were ill at ease under Harold's
dominion, and would gladly embrace any opportunity of having a Saxon
king. She had no doubt, she said, that if one of them were to appear
in England and claim the throne, the people would rise in mass to
support him, and he would easily get possession of the realm. She
invited them, therefore, to repair secretly to England, to confer with
her on the subject; charging them, however, to bring very few, if any,
Norman attendants with them, as the English people were inclined to be
very jealous of the influence of foreigners.
The brothers were very much elated at receiving these tidings; so much
so that in their zeal they were disposed to push the enterprise much
faster than their mother had intended. Instead of going, themselves,
quietly and secretly to confer with her in London, they organized an
armed expedition of Norman soldiers. The youngest, Alfred, with
an enthusiasm characteristic of his years, took the lead in these
measures. He undertook to conduct the expedition. The eldest consented
to his making the attempt. He landed at Dover, and began his march
through the southern part of the country. _Godwin_ went forth to meet
him. Whether he would join his standard or meet him as a foe, no one
could tell. Emma considered that Godwin was on her side, though even
she had not recommended an armed invasion of the country.
It is very probable that Godwin himself was uncertain, at first,
what course to pursue, and that he intended to have espoused Prince
Alfred's cause if he had found that it presented any reasonable
prospect of success. Or he may have felt bound to serve Harold
faithfully, now that he had once given in his adhesion to him. Of
course, he kept his thoughts and plans to himself, leaving the world
to see only his deeds. But if he had ever entertained any design of
espousing Alfred's cause, he abandoned it before the time arrived for
action. As he advanced into the southern part of the island, he called
together the leading Saxon chiefs to hold a council, and he made
an address to them when they were convened, which had a powerful
influence on their minds in preventing their deciding in favor of
Alfred. However much they might desire a monarch of their own line,
this, he said, was not the proper occasion for effecting their end.
Alfred was, it was true, an Anglo-Saxon by descent, but he was a
Norman by birth and education. All his friends and supporters were
Normans. He had come now into the realm of England with a retinue of
Norman followers, who would, if he were successful, monopolize the
honors and offices which he would have to bestow. He advised the
Anglo-Saxon chieftains, therefore, to remain inactive, to take no part
in the contest, but to wait for some other opportunity to re-establish
the Saxon line of kings.
The Anglo-Saxon chieftains seem to have considered this good advice.
At any rate, they made no movement to sustain young Alfred's cause.
Alfred had advanced to the town of Guilford. Here he was surrounded
by a force which Harold had sent against him. There was no hope or
possibility of resistance. In fact, his enemies seem to have arrived
at a time when he did not expect an attack, for they entered the gates
by a sudden onset, when Alfred's followers were scattered about the
town at the various houses to which they had been distributed. They
made no attempt to defend themselves, but were taken prisoners one by
one, wherever they were found. They were bound with cords, and carried
away like ordinary criminals.
Of Alfred's ten principal Norman companions, nine were beheaded. For
some reason or other the life of one was spared. Alfred himself
was charged with having violated the peace of his country, and was
condemned to lose his eyes. The torture of this operation, and the
inflammation which followed, destroyed the unhappy prince's life.
Neither Emma nor Godwin did any thing to save him. It was wise policy,
no doubt, in Emma to disavow all connection with her son's unfortunate
attempt, now that it had failed; and ambitious queens have to follow
the dictates of policy instead of obeying such impulses as maternal
love. She was, however, secretly indignant at the cruel fate which her
son had endured, and she considered Godwin as having betrayed him.
After this dreadful disappointment, Emma was not likely to make any
farther attempts to place either of her sons upon the throne; but
Harold seems to have distrusted her, for he banished her from the
realm. She had still her Saxon son in Normandy, Alfred's brother
Edward, and her Danish son in Denmark. She went to Flanders, and there
sent to Hardicanute, urging him by the most earnest importunities to
come to England and assert his claims to the crown. He was doubly
bound to do it now, she said, as the blood of his murdered brother
called for retribution, and he could have no honorable rest or peace
until he had avenged it.
There was no occasion, however, for Hardicanute to attempt force
for the recovery of his kingdom, for not many months after these
transactions Harold died, and then the country seemed generally to
acquiesce in Hardicanute's accession. The Anglo-Saxons, discouraged
perhaps by the discomfiture of their cause in the person of Alfred,
made no attempt to rise. Hardicanute came accordingly and assumed the
throne. But, though he had not courage and energy enough to encounter
his rival Harold during his lifetime, he made what amends he could by
offering base indignities to his body after he was laid in the
grave. His first public act after his accession was to have the body
disinterred, and, after cutting off the head, he threw the mangled
remains into the Thames. The Danish fishermen in the river found them,
and buried them again in a private sepulcher in London, with such
concealed marks of respect and honor as it was in their power to
bestow.
Hardicanute also instituted legal proceedings to inquire into the
death of Alfred. He charged the Saxons with having betrayed him,
especially those who were rich enough to pay the fines by which, in
those days, it was very customary for criminals to atone for their
crimes. Godwin himself was brought before the tribunal, and charged
with being accessory to Alfred's death. Godwin positively asserted his
innocence, and brought witnesses to prove that he was entirely free
from all participation in the affair. He took also a much more
effectual method to secure an acquittal, by making to King Hardicanute
some most magnificent presents. One of these was a small ship,
profusely enriched and ornamented with gold. It contained eighty
soldiers, armed in the Danish style, with weapons of the most
highly-finished and costly construction. They each carried a Danish
axe on the left shoulder, and a javelin in the right hand, both richly
gilt, and they had each of them a bracelet on his arm, containing six
ounces of solid gold. Such at least is the story. The presents might
be considered in the light either of a bribe to corrupt justice, or
in that of a fine to satisfy it. In fact, the line, in those days,
between bribes to purchase acquittal and fines atoning for the offense
seems not to have been very accurately drawn.
Hardicanute, when fairly established on his throne, governed his realm
like a tyrant. He oppressed the Saxons especially without any mercy.
The effect of his cruelties, and those of the Danes who acted under
him, was, however, not to humble and subdue the Saxon spirit, but
to awaken and arouse it. Plots and conspiracies began to be formed
against him, and against the whole Danish party. Godwin himself began
to meditate some decisive measures, when, suddenly, Hardicanute died.
Godwin immediately took the field at the head of all his forces,
and organized a general movement throughout the kingdom for calling
Edward, Alfred's brother, to the throne. This insurrection was
triumphantly successful. The Danish forces that undertook to resist it
were driven to the northward. The leaders were slain or put to flight.
A remnant of them escaped to the sea-shore, where they embarked on
board such vessels as they could find, and left England forever; and
this was the final termination of the political authority of the
Danes over the realm of England--the consummation and end of Alfred's
military labors and schemes, coming surely at last, though deferred
for two centuries after his decease.
What follows belongs rather to the history of William the Conqueror
than to that of Alfred, for Godwin invited Edward, Emma's Norman son,
to come and assume the crown; and his coming, together with that of
the many Norman attendants that accompanied or followed him, led, in
the end, to the Norman invasion and conquest. Godwin might probably
have made himself king if he had chosen to do so. His authority over
the whole island was paramount and supreme. But, either from a natural
sense of justice toward the rightful heir, or from a dread of the
danger which always attends the usurping of the royal name by one who
is not of royal descent, he made no attempt to take the crown. He
convened a great assembly of all the estates of the realm, and there
it was solemnly decided that Edward should be invited to come to
England and ascend the throne. A national messenger was dispatched to
Normandy to announce the invitation.
It was stipulated in this invitation that Edward should bring very few
Normans with him. He came, accordingly, in the first instance, almost
unattended. He was received with great joy, and crowned king with
splendid ceremonies and great show, in the ancient cathedral at
Winchester. He felt under great obligations to Godwin, to whose
instrumentality he was wholly indebted for this sudden and most
brilliant change in his fortunes; and partly impelled by this feeling
of gratitude, and partly allured by Edith's extraordinary charms, he
proposed to make Edith his wife. Godwin made no objection. In fact,
his enemies say that he made a positive stipulation for this match
before allowing the measures for Edward's elevation to the throne to
proceed too far. However this may be, Godwin found himself, after
Edward's accession, raised to the highest pitch of honor and power.
From being a young herdsman's son, driving the cows to pasture in
a wood, he had become the prime minister, as it were, of the whole
realm, his four sons being great commanding generals in the army, and
his daughter the queen.
The current of life did not flow smoothly with him, after all. We can
not here describe the various difficulties in which he became involved
with the king on account of the Normans, who were continually coming
over from the Continent to join Edward's court, and whose coming
and growing influence strongly awakened the jealousy of the English
people. Some narration of these events will more properly precede the
history of William the Conqueror. We accordingly close this story of
Godwin here by giving the circumstances of his death, as related by
the historians of the time. The readers of this narrative will, of
course, exercise severally their own discretion in determining how far
they will believe the story to be true.
The story is, that one day he was seated at Edward's table, at some
sort of entertainment, when one of his attendants, who was bringing
in a goblet of wine, tripped one of his feet, but contrived to save
himself by dexterously bringing up the other in such a manner as to
cause some amusement to the guests; Godwin said, referring to the
man's feet, that _one brother saved the other_. "Yes," said the king,
"brothers have need of brothers' aid. Would to God that mine were
still alive." In saying this he directed a meaning glance toward
Godwin, which seemed to insinuate, as, in fact, the king had sometimes
done before, that Godwin had had some agency in young Alfred's
death. Godwin was displeased. He reproached the king with the
unreasonableness of his surmises, and solemnly declared that he was
wholly innocent of all participation in that crime. He imprecated the
curse of God upon his head if this declaration was not true, wishing
that the next mouthful of bread that he should eat might choke him if
he had contributed in any way, directly or indirectly, to Alfred's
unhappy end. So saying, he put the bread into his mouth, and in the
act of swallowing it he was seized with a paroxysm of coughing and
suffocation. The attendants hastened to his relief, the guests rose in
terror and confusion. Godwin was borne away by two of his sons, and
laid on his bed in convulsions. He survived the immediate injury, but
after lingering five days he died.
Edward continued to reign in prosperity long after this event, and he
employed the sons of Godwin as long as he lived in the most honorable
stations of public service. In fact, when he died, he named one of
them as his successor to the throne.
[Footnote 1: Pronounced _Oolf_]
[Footnote 2: Spelled sometimes Herald]
THE END.