WESTERN RECORD.

_XXXVII.-THE NORSEMEN._

1. The Gulf Stream flows so near to the southern coast of Norway, and

to the Orkneys and Western Islands, that their climate is much less

severe than might be supposed. Yet no one can help wondering why they

were formerly so much more populous than now, and why the people who

came westward even so long ago as the great Aryan migration, did not

persist in turning aside to the more fertile countries that lay

farther southward. In spite of all their disadvantages, the

Scandinavian peninsula, and the sterile islands of the northern seas,

were inhabitated by men and women whose enterprise and intelligence

ranked them above their neighbors.

2. Now, with the modern ease of travel and transportation, these

poorer countries can be supplied from other parts of the world. And

though the summers of Norway are misty and dark and short, and it is

difficult to raise even a little hay on the bits of meadow among the

rocky mountain-slopes, commerce can make up for all deficiencies. In

early times there was no commerce, except that carried on by the

pirates, if we may dignify their undertakings by such a respectable

name, and it was hardly possible to make a living from the soil

alone. But it does not take us long to discover that the ancient

Northmen were not farmers, but hunters and fishermen. It had grown

more and more difficult to find food along the rivers and broad grassy

wastes of inland Europe, and pushing westward they had at last reached

the place where they could live beside waters that swarmed with fish

and among hills that sheltered plenty of game.

3. The tribes that settled in the north grew in time to have many

peculiarities of their own, and as their countries grew more and more

populous, they needed more things that could not easily be had, and a

fashion of plundering their neighbors began to prevail. Men were still

more or less beasts of prey. Invaders must be kept out, and at last

much of the industry of Scandinavia was connected with the carrying on

of an almost universal fighting and marauding. Ships must be built,

and there must be endless supplies of armor and weapons. Stones were

easily collected for missiles or made fit for arrows and spear-heads,

and metals were worked with great care.

4. In Norway and Sweden were the best places to find all these, and if

the Northmen planned to fight a great battle, they had to transport a

huge quantity of stones, iron, and bronze. It is easy to see why one

day's battle was almost always decisive in ancient times, for supplies

could not be quickly forwarded from point to point, and after the arrows

were all shot and the conquered were chased off the field, they had no

further means of offense except a hand-to-hand fight with those who had

won the right to pick up the fallen spears at their leisure. So, too, an

unexpected invasion was likely to prove successful; it was a work of

time to get ready for a battle, and when the Northmen swooped down upon

some shore town of Britain or Gaul, the unlucky citizens were at their

mercy. And while the Northmen had fish and game, and were mighty

hunters, and their rocks and mines helped forward their warlike

enterprises, so the forests supplied them with ship-timber, and they

gained renown as sailors wherever their fame extended.

5. There was a great difference, however, between the manner of life in

Norway and that of England and France. The Norwegian stone, however

useful for arrow-heads or axes, was not fit for building purposes. There

is hardly any clay there, either, to make bricks with, so that wood has

usually been the only material for houses. In the southern countries

there had always been rude castles in which the people could shelter

themselves, but the Northmen could build no castles that a torch could

not destroy. They trusted much more to their ships than to their houses,

and some of their captains disdained to live on shore at all.

6. There is something refreshing in the stories of old Norse life; of

its simplicity and freedom and childish zest. An old writer says that

they had "a hankering after pomp and pageantry," and by means of this

they came at last to doing things decently and in order, and to

setting the fashions for the rest of Europe. There was considerable

dignity in the manner of every-day life and housekeeping. Their houses

were often very large, even two hundred feet long, with flaring fires

on a pavement in the middle of the floor, and the beds built next the

walls on three sides, sometimes hidden by wide tapestries or foreign

cloth that had been brought home in the viking ships. In front of the

beds were benches where each man had his seat and footstool, with his

armor and weapons hung high on the wall above.

7. The master of the house had a high seat on the north side in the

middle of a long bench; opposite was another bench for guests and

strangers, while the women sat on the third side. The roof was high;

there were a few windows in it, and those were covered by skins, and

let in but little light. The smoke escaped through openings in the

carved, soot-blackened roof; and though in later times the rich men's

houses were more like villages, because they made groups of smaller

buildings for store houses, for guest-rooms, or for work-shops all

around still, the idea of this primitive great hall or living-room has

not even yet been lost. The latest copies of it in England and France

that still remain are most interesting; but what a fine sight it must

have been at night when the great fires blazed and the warriors sat on

their benches in solemn order, and the skalds recited their long

sagas, of the host's own bravery or the valiant deeds of his

ancestors! Hospitality was almost chief among the virtues.

8. We must read what was written in their own language, and then we

shall have more respect for the vikings and sea-kings, always

distinguishing between these two; for, while any peasant who wished

could be a viking--a sea-robber--a sea-king was a king indeed, and

must be connected with the royal race of the country. He received the

title of king by right as soon as he took command of a ship's crew,

though he need not have any land or kingdom. Vikings were merely

pirates; they might be peasants and vikings by turn, and won their

names from the inlets, the viks or wicks, where they harbored their

ships. A sea-king must be a viking, but naturally very few of the

vikings were sea-kings.

[Illustration: _A Viking's Home._]

9. The viking had rights in his own country, and knew what it was to

enjoy those rights; if he could win more land, he would know how to

govern it, and he knew what he was fighting for, and meant to win.

If we wonder why all this energy was spent on the high seas and in

strange countries, there are two answers: first, that fighting was the

natural employment of the men, and that no right could be held that

could not be defended; but besides this, one form of their energy was

showing itself at home in rude attempts at literature.

10. The more that we know of the Northmen, the more we are convinced

how superior they were in their knowledge of the useful arts to the

people whom they conquered. There is a legend that, when Charlemagne,

in the ninth century, saw some pirate ships cruising in the

Mediterranean, along the shores of which they had at last found their

way, he covered his face and burst into tears. He was not so much

afraid of their cruelty and barbarity as of their civilization. Nobody

knew better that none of the Christian countries under his rule had

ships or men that could make such a daring voyage. He knew that they

were skillful workers in wood and iron, and had learned to be

rope-makers and weavers; that they could make casks for their supply

of drinking-water, and understood how to prepare food for their long

cruises. All their swords and spears and bow-strings had to be made

and kept in good condition, and sheltered from the sea-spray.

11. When we picture the famous sea-kings' ships to ourselves, we do

not wonder that the Northmen were so proud of them, or that the skalds

were never tired of recounting their glories. There were two kinds of

vessels: the last-ships, that carried cargoes, and the long-ships, or

ships of war. Listen to the splendors of the "Long Serpent," which was

the largest ship ever built in Norway. A dragon-ship, to begin with,

because all the long-ships had a dragon for a figure-head, except the

smallest of them, which were called cutters, and only carried ten or

twenty rowers on a side. The "Long Serpent" had thirty-four rowers'

benches on a side, and she was one hundred and eleven feet long. Over

the sides were hung the shining red and white shields of the vikings,

the gilded dragon's head towered high at the prow, and at the stern a

gilded tail went curling off over the head of the steersman. Then,

from the long body, the heavy oars swept forward and back through the

water, and as it came down the fiôrd, the "Long Serpent" must have

looked like some enormous centipede creeping out of its den on an

awful errand, and heading out across the rough water toward its prey.

12. The voyages were often disastrous in spite of much clever

seamanship. They knew nothing of the mariner's compass, and found

their way chiefly by the aid of the stars--inconstant pilots enough on

such foggy, stormy seas. They carried birds, too, oftenest ravens, and

used to let them loose and follow them toward the nearest land. The

black raven was the vikings' favorite symbol for their flags, and

familiar enough it became in other harbors than their own. They were

bold, hardy fellows, and held fast to a rude code of honor and rank of

knighthood.

13. The valleys of the Elbe and the Rhine, of the Seine and the Loire,

made a famous hunting-ground for the dragon-ships to seek.

14. The people who lived in France were of another sort, but they

often knew how to defend themselves as well as the Northmen knew how

to attack. There are few early French records for us to read, for the

literature of that early day was almost wholly destroyed in the

religious houses and public buildings of France. Here and there a few

pages of a poem or of a biography or chronicle have been kept, but

from this very fact we can understand the miserable condition of the

country.

15. The whole second half of the ninth century is taken up with the

histories of these invasions. We must follow for a while the progress

of events in Gaul, or France as we call it now, though it was made up

then of a number of smaller kingdoms. The result of the great siege of

Paris was only a settling of affairs with the Northmen for the time

being; one part of the country was delivered from them at the expense

of another.

16. They could be bought off and bribed for a time, but there was

never to be any such thing as their going back to their own country

and letting France alone for good and all. But as they gained at

length whole tracts of country, instead of the little wealth of a few

men to take away in their ships as at first, they began to settle down

in their new lands and to become conquerors and colonists instead of

mere plunderers. Instead of continually ravaging and attacking the

kingdoms, they slowly became the owners and occupiers of the conquered

territory; they pushed their way from point to point.

17. At first, as you have seen already they trusted to their ships,

and always left their wives and children at home in the north

countries, but as time went on, they brought their families with them

and made new homes, for which they would have to fight many a battle

yet. It would be no wonder if the women had become possessed by a love

of adventure, too, and had insisted upon seeing the lands from which

the rich booty was brought to them, and that they had been saying for

a long time: "Show us the places where the grapes grow and the

fruit-trees bloom, where men build great houses and live in them

splendidly. We are tired of seeing only the long larchen beams of

their high roofs, and the purple and red and gold cloths, and the red

wine and yellow wheat that you bring away. Why should we not go to

live in that country, instead of your breaking it to pieces, and going

there so many of you, every year, only to be slain as its enemies? We

are tired of our sterile Norway and our great Danish deserts of sand,

of our cold winds and wet weather, and our long winters that pass by

so slowly while the fleets are gone. We would rather see Seville and

Paris themselves, than only their gold and merchandise and the rafters

of their churches that you bring home for ship timbers."

18. The kingdoms of France had been divided and subdivided, and, while

we find a great many fine examples of resistance, and some great

victories over the Northmen, they were not pushed out and checked

altogether. Instead, they gradually changed into Frenchmen themselves,

different from other Frenchmen only in being more spirited, vigorous

and alert. They inspired every new growth of the religion, language,

or manners, with their own splendid vitality. They were like plants

that have grown in dry, thin soil, transplanted to a richer spot of

ground, and sending out fresh shoots in the doubled moisture and

sunshine. And presently we shall find the Northman becoming the Norman

of history. As the Northman, almost the first thing we admire about

him is his character, his glorious energy; as the Norman, we see that

energy turned into better channels, and bringing a new element into

the progress of civilization.

_Sarah O. Jewett. "The Story of the Normans."_

_Putnam's "Stories of the Nations" Series._

_XXXVIII.--ROLF THE GANGER._

1. The ninth century was a sad time for both England and France. The

Gothic tribes, in their march to the west had reached the sea in

Denmark and Norway, and had increased to such an extent as to take up

all the land fit for cultivation. The strength and courage which they

had shown in many a battle-field on the land was now transferred to

the sea, soldiers and knights becoming vikings and pirates. Fierce

worshipers were they of the old gods Odin, Frey, and Thor. They

plundered, they burned, they slew; they especially devastated churches

and monasteries, and no coast was safe from them from the Adriatic to

the farthest north--even Rome saw their long-ships, and, "From the

fury of the Northmen, good Lord deliver us!" was the prayer in every

litany of the West.

2. England had been well-nigh undone by them, when the spirit of her

greatest king awoke, and by Alfred they were overcome. Some were

permitted to settle down, and were taught Christianity and

civilization, and the fresh invaders were driven from the coast.

Alfred's gallant son and grandson held the same course, guarded their

coasts, and made their faith and themselves respected throughout the

North. But in France, the much harassed house of Charles the Great,

and the ill-compacted bond of different nations, were little able to

oppose their fierce assaults, and ravage and devastation reigned from

one end of the country to another.

3. However, the vikings, on returning to their native homes sometimes

found their place filled up, and the family inheritance incapable of

supporting so many. Thus they began to think of winning not merely

gold and cattle, but lands and houses, on the coasts they pillaged. In

Scotland, the Hebrides, and Ireland, they settled by leave of nothing

but their swords; in England, by treaty with Alfred; and in France,

half by conquest, half by treaty, always, however, accepting

Christianity as a needful obligation when they took posession of

southern lands. Probably they thought Thor was only the god of the

north, and that the "White Christ," as they called Him who was made

known to them in these new countries was to be adored in what they

deemed alone his territories.

4. Of all the sea-robbers who sailed from their rocky dwelling-places

by the fiôrds of Norway, none enjoyed higher renown than Rolf, called

the ganger, or walker, as tradition relates, because his stature was

so gigantic that, when clad in full armor, no horse could support his

weight, and he therefore always fought on foot.

5. Rolf's lot had, however, fallen in what he doubtless considered as

evil days. No such burnings and plunderings as had hitherto wasted

England and enriched Norway, fell to his share; for Alfred had made

the bravest Northman feel that his fleet and army were more than a

match for theirs. Ireland was exhausted by the former depredations of

the pirates, and, from a fertile and flourishing country had become a

scene of desolation. Scotland and its isles were too barren to afford

prey to the spoiler.

6. Rolf, presuming on the favor shown to his family while returning

from an expedition on the Baltic, made a descent on the coast of

Viken, a part of Norway, and carried off the cattle wanted by his

crew. The king, who happened at that time to be in that district, was

highly displeased, and, assembling a council, declared Rolf the Ganger

an outlaw.

7. The banished Rolf found a great number of companions, who, like

himself, were unwilling to submit to the strict rule of Harald, and

setting sail with them, he first plundered and devastated the coast

of Flanders, and afterward returned to France. In the spring of 896

the citizens of Rouen, scarcely yet recovered from the miseries

inflicted upon them by the fierce Danish rover Hasting, were dismayed

by the sight of a fleet of long, low vessels, with spreading sails,

heads carved like that of a serpent, and sterns finished like the tail

of a reptile, such as they well knew to be the keels of the dreaded

Northmen, the harbingers of destruction and desolation. Little hope of

succor or protection was there from King Charles the Simple; and,

indeed, had the sovereign been ever so warlike and energetic, it would

little have availed Rouen, which might have been destroyed twice over

before a messenger could reach Laon.

8. In this emergency, Franco, the archbishop, proposed to go forth to

meet the Northmen and attempt to make terms for his flock. The offer

was gladly accepted by the trembling citizens, and the good archbishop

went, bearing the keys of the town, to visit the camp which the

Northmen had begun to erect upon the bank of the river. They offered

him no violence, and he performed his errand safely. Rolf, the rude

generosity of whose character was touched by his fearless conduct,

readily agreed to spare the lives and property of the citizens, on

condition that Rouen was surrendered to him without resistance.

9. Entering the town, he there established his headquarters, and spent

a whole year in the adjacent parts of the country, during which time

the Northmen so faithfully observed their promise, that they were

regarded by the Rouennais rather as friends than as conquerors; and

Rolf, or Rollo, as the French called him, was far more popular among

them than their real sovereign. Wherever he met with resistance, he

showed, indeed, the relentless cruelty of the heathen pirate;

wherever he found submission, he was a kind master.

10. In the course of the following year, he advanced along the banks

of the Seine as far as its junction with the Eure. On the opposite

side of the river there were visible a number of tents, where slept a

numerous army, which Charles had at length collected to oppose this

formidable enemy. The Northmen also set up their camp, in expectation

of a battle, and darkness had just closed in on them when a shout was

heard on the opposite side of the river, and to their surprise a voice

was heard speaking in their own language. "Brave warriors, why come ye

hither, and what do ye seek?"

11. "We are Northmen, come hither to conquer France," replied Rollo.

"But who art thou who speakest our tongue so well?" "Heard ye never of

Hasting?" was the reply. "Yes," returned Rollo, "he began well, but

ended badly." "Will ye not, then," continued the old pirate, "submit

to my lord the king? Will ye not hold of him lands and honors?" "No,"

replied the Northmen, disdainfully, "we will own no lord, we will take

no gift, but we will have what we ourselves can conquer by force."

12. Here Hasting took his departure, and returning to the French camp,

strongly advised the commander not to hazard a battle. His counsel was

overruled by a young standard-bearer, who, significantly observing,

"Wolves make not war on wolves," so offended the old sea-king, that he

quitted the army that night, and never again appeared in France. The

wisdom of his advice was the next morning made evident, by the total

defeat of the French, and the advance of the Northmen, who in a short

space after appeared beneath the walls of Paris. Failing in their

attempt to take the city, they returned to Rouen, where they fortified

themselves, making it the capital of the territory they had conquered.

13. Fifteen years passed away, the summers of which were spent in

ravaging the dominions of Charles the Simple, and the winters in the

city of Rouen, and in the meantime a change had come over the leader.

He had been insensibly softened and civilized by his intercourse with

the good Archbishop Franco, and finding, perhaps, that it was not

quite so easy as he had expected to conquer the whole kingdom of

France, he declared himself willing to follow the example which he

once despised, and to become a vassal of the French crown for the

duchy of Neustria.

14. Charles, greatly rejoiced to find himself thus able to put a stop

to the dreadful devastations of the Northmen, readily agreed to the

terms proposed by Rollo, appointing the village of St. Clair-sur-Epte,

on the borders of Neustria, as the place of meeting for the purpose of

receiving his homage and oath of fealty.

15. The greatest difficulty to be overcome in this conference was the

repugnance felt by the proud Northman to perform the customary act of

homage before any living man, especially one whom he held so cheap as

Charles the Simple. He consented, indeed, to swear allegiance, and

declare himself the "king's man," with his hands clasped between those

of Charles. The remaining part of the ceremony, the kneeling to kiss

the foot of the liege lord, he absolutely refused, and was with

difficulty persuaded to permit one of his followers to perform it in

his name. The proxy, as proud as his master, instead of kneeling, took

the king's foot in his hand, and lifted it to his mouth while he stood

upright, thus overturning both monarch and throne, amid the rude

laughter of his companions, while the miserable Charles and his

courtiers felt such a dread of these new vassals that they did not

dare resent the insult.

16. On his return to Rouen, Rollo was baptized, and, on leaving the

cathedral, celebrated his conversion by large grants to the different

churches and convents of his duchy, making a fresh gift on each of the

days during which he wore the white robes of the newly baptized. All

of his warriors who chose to follow his example, and embrace the

Christian faith, received from him grants of land, to be held of him

on the same terms as those by which he held the dukedom from the king.

The country thus peopled by the Northmen, gradually assumed the name

of Normandy.

17. Applying themselves with all the ardor of their temper to their

new way of life, the Northmen quickly adopted the manners, language,

and habits which were recommended to them as connected with the holy

faith which they had just embraced, but without losing their own bold

and vigorous spirit. Soon the gallant and accomplished Norman knight

could scarcely have been recognized as the savage sea-robber, while,

at the same time, he bore as little resemblance to the cruel and

voluptuous French noble, at once violent and indolent.

18. There is no doubt, however, that the keen, unsophisticated vigor

of Rollo, directed by his new religion did great good in Normandy, and

that his justice was sharp, his discipline impartial, so that of him

is told the famous old story bestowed upon other just princes, that a

gold bracelet was left for three years untouched upon a tree in a

forest. He had been married, as part of the treaty, to Gisèle, a

daughter of King Charles the Simple, but he was an old grizzly

warrior, and neither cared for the other. A wife whom he had long

before taken, had borne him a son, named William, to whom he left his

dukedom in 932.

_XXXIX.--THE TRUE STORY OF MACBETH._

1. In the north of Scotland, where the cliffs bordering Moray Firth

face the auroral heavens, are two ancient towns, Inverness and Forres,

whose names are immortalized in Shakespeare's great tragedy of

Macbeth, for it is in their vicinity that most of its scenes are laid.

2. It is a wild, lonely country, and must have been wilder and

lonelier still eight hundred years ago, when from the neighboring

Norway coast the black boats of the vikings, or North Sea rovers, used

to come flocking into the quiet harbors of Moray and Cromarty Firths,

like so many swift birds of prey swooping suddenly in from the gray

horizon, snatching their plunder and flitting away on never-resting

wings only to return in greater numbers and depart with richer booty.

3. In 1033-1039, when the sons of Canute the Dane were wearing the

English crown, and not long after a few of the roving Norsemen had

drifted away to plant a little history and a great mystery across the

wide Atlantic, there reigned in Scotland a king by the name of Duncan

MacCrinan. Among his nobles was a certain Macbeth, Thane of Glamis,

about whom a great many stories are told, some of which would no doubt

have made their subject open his eyes, for if we may credit the sober

historians he was rather respectable than otherwise, and probably

slept much better o' nights than Mr. Shakespeare would have us

believe. It is even said that he made a pilgrimage to Rome and saw the

Pope, which certainly ought to establish his virtue to anybody's

satisfaction.

4. At all events he was a brave soldier and able general, and Duncan

naturally thought that he had the right man in the right place when he

gave him command of the royal army and sent him off to drive out

Thorfinn and Thorkell, two Norse chiefs who had come over to conquer

Scotland.

5. Macbeth had wedded a lady named Grnoch MacB[oe]dhe, which made him

cousin to the king, and very likely put strange notions into his head,

even if they never were there before. He was what we call "a rising

man," and so, having gloriously defeated Thorfinn and Thorkell, or,

some say, making them allies, he gloriously turned around and made war

upon Duncan MacCrinan. In this struggle Duncan was killed or mortally

wounded near Elgin, on Moray Firth, and Macbeth usurped the throne.

6. Others claim that Thorfinn had conquered that part of Scotland,

that Macbeth was his vassal and merely fulfilled his duty to his

over-lord in repelling an invasion by Duncan, in which the latter

deservedly met the common fate of war.

7. It is very difficult to learn the real truth about people who lived

before history was anything more than oral tradition, because, as in

the case of Macbeth, a great many legends gradually clustered about

their names, which were not committed to writing until many, many

years after the events actually occurred. The very earliest Scotch

writing ever discovered is only a charter, and is dated 1095, more

than fifty years after Duncan was "in his grave," and it was more than

three hundred years later that a Scotch prior, named Androwe of

Wyntonne, wrote a long historical poem which he called an Orygynale

Cronykil of Scotland. In it he relates the story of Macbeth and the

three witches, and the murder of Duncan, though he says that Macbeth

afterward made a very wise and just king, whose reign of seventeen

years was marked by great abundance, and by royal almsgiving and zeal

for "holy kirk."

8. But a Latin history of Scotland, written about a hundred years

before Shakespeare by an Aberdeen professor, and translated into

English under the title of Holinshed's Chronicle, supplied the great

dramatist with his plot, though it suited his purpose to combine the

true story of Macbeth with the murder of an earlier king. Then, adding

a great deal about ghosts and witches, and, above all, breathing into

these dry, long-dead mummies the quickening breath of genius, the

immortal playwright recreated a Macbeth who seems a far more real and

living character than many of our contemporaries.

9. By whatever means Macbeth secured the throne, history and fiction

agree as to the manner of his losing it. Duncan's sons, in reality

mere infants at their father's death, were hurried away by their

friends, and Malcolm, the elder, was committed to his mother's

brother, Siward, Earl of Northumbria, who in good time aided his young

kinsman to recover his birthright.

10. Macbeth, notwithstanding his prosperous reign, was regarded as a

usurper, and was consequently very unpopular with the loyal Scotch,

who, though proud and quarrelsome, were always devotedly true where

they recognized an obligation of fealty. So when Malcolm returned they

flocked around the beloved young heir, and defeated his enemy at

Dunsinane, though Macbeth was not killed at this place, as Shakespeare

says, but fled across the Grampians to rally at Lumphanan. Here he was

slain and the victorious Malcolm--called in history Malcolm

Canmore--now went to Scone and was crowned upon a famous stone,

believed by the Scotch to be the same that Jacob used for his pillow.

It is certainly the one that Edward I of England afterward took away

and made the seat of the coronation chair at Westminster Abbey, where

it is still to be seen.

11. But, like many another evil that has been wrought before now,

Macbeth's treason resulted in the ultimate good of his country; for

Malcolm, during his long exile, had become accustomed to the superior

civilization of the English, and now introduced many improvements

among his subjects. Having known, too, the sorrows of a fugitive, he

welcomed to his court the Saxon princes fleeing from Norman William,

among whom was Margaret Atheling, the gentle granddaughter of Edmund

Ironsides, who became his bride, and whose winning graces went far

toward refining the rude manners of the warlike Scots. One of their

sons was the saintly King David, who founded Melrose Abbey, and who is

said to have been to Scotland "all that Alfred was to England, and

more than Louis was to France."

12. Another noble, called Banquo, seems to have had some part in

Duncan's overthrow, but as the play of Macbeth was written in the

reign of James I, who was a Scot and traced his descent back to

Banquo, it was not deemed prudent or polite to represent the character

in an unflattering light; so he was pictured as noble and

incorruptible, and was so unfortunate, poor man, as to have to be

murdered to make the story end well.

13. Sir Walter Scott, in his "Tales of a Grandfather," gives us a

story differing little from the outline of Shakespeare's drama, but

then, who that has spent enraptured hours over Rob Roy and the Black

Dwarf could wish the charming wizard to spoil a good story for the

sake of mere historical exactness? not I, surely! And the Macbeth of

history, no matter how zealously we may try to discover him, or how

faithfully we may attempt, at this late day, to reconstruct his

damaged reputation, he can never be to us anything better than a very

misty tradition. Whatever he may have been eight hundred years ago,

the Macbeth _we_ know, the only real Macbeth there is or ever can be,

is after all the one that met the witches in the thunder-storm on

Forres Heath and then went home and murdered the gentle old king who

"had so much blood in him," and a moment later, startled by the

knocking at the gate, exclaimed in bitterest remorse: "Wake Duncan

with thy knocking! I would thou could'st!"

14. If you read this scene in the silent hours when every one else in

the house is sleeping, you will almost believe that you murdered

Duncan yourself, and that you hear Lady Macbeth's hoarse whisper in

your ear: "To bed, to bed, there's knocking at the gate. Come, come,

come, come, give me your hand. What's done can not be undone. To bed,

to bed, to bed."

15. Then you will shut the book in sudden terror of the lonely

midnight, and scramble into bed with the blood curdling in your veins,

and presently, aided by the darkness, your imagination will bridge the

gulf of centuries, and you will seem to see a long vaulted hall in a

mediæval palace, and in the hall a banquet spread, around which gather

lords of high degree, while on the canopied dais at the upper end sit

King Macbeth and his white-haired, pitiless, guilty queen. And from

the rainy outer darkness you may catch the faint echo of a mortal cry:

"Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly!" And then as you picture the king

stepping down from his royal seat to meet a blood-stained murderer at

the door, you will have a momentary glimpse of Banquo lying in the

roadside ditch "with twenty trenchéd gashes in his head," and of

Fleance speeding away alone through the stormy night.

_XL.--DUKE WILLIAM OF NORMANDY._

1. Now Duke William was in his park at Rouen, and in his hands he held

a bow ready strung, for he was going hunting, and many knights and

squires with him. And behold, there came to the gate a messenger from

England; and he went straight to the duke and drew him aside, and told

him secretly how King Edward's life had come to an end, and Harold had

been made king in his stead. And when the duke had heard the tidings,

and understood all that was come to pass, those that looked upon him

perceived that he was greatly enraged, for he forsook the chase, and

went in silence, speaking no word to any man, clasping and unclasping

his cloak, neither dared any man speak to him; but he crossed over the

Seine in a boat, and went to his hall, and sat down on a bench; and he

covered his face with his mantle, and leaned down his head, and there

he abode, turning about restlessly for one hour after another in

gloomy thought. And none dared speak a word to him, but they spake to

one another, saying: "What ails the duke? Why bears he such a mien?"

2. "That is it that troubles me," said the duke. "I grieve because

Edward is dead, and that Harold has done me a wrong; for he has taken

my kingdom who was bound to me by oath and promise." To these words

answered Fitz-Osbern the bold: "Sir, tarry not, but make ready with

speed to avenge yourself on Harold, who has been disloyal to you; for

if you lack not courage, there will be left no land to Harold. Summon

all whom you may summon, cross the sea and seize his lands; for no

brave man should begin a matter and not carry it on to the end."

3. Then William sent messengers to Harold to call upon him to keep

the oath that he had sworn; but Harold replied in scorn that he would

not marry his daughter, nor give up his land to him. And William sent

to him his defiance; but Harold answered that he feared him not, and

he drove all the Normans out of the land, with their wives and

children, for King Edward had given them lands and castles, but Harold

chased them out of the country; neither would he let one remain. And

at Christmas he took the crown, but it would have been well for

himself and his land if he had not been crowned, since for the kingdom

he perjured himself, and his reign lasted but a short space.

4. Then Duke William called together his barons, and told them all his

will, and how Harold had wronged him, and that he would cross the sea

and revenge himself; but without their aid he could not gather men

enough, nor a large navy; therefore, he would know of each one of them

how many men and ships he would bring. And they prayed for leave to

take counsel together, and the duke granted their request. And their

deliberations lasted long, for many complained that their burdens were

heavy, and some said that they would bring ships and cross the sea

with the duke, and others said they would not go, for they were in

debt and poor. Thus some would and some would not, and there was great

contention between them.

5. Then Fitz-Osbern came to them and said: "Wherefore dispute you,

sirs? Ye should not fail your natural lord when he goes seeking

honors. Ye owe him service for your fiefs, and where ye owe service ye

should serve with all your power. Ask not delay, nor wait until he

prays you; but go before, and offer him more than you can do. Let him

not lament that his enterprise failed for your remissness." But they

answered: "Sir, we fear the sea, and we owe no service across the

sea. Speak for us, we pray you, and answer in our stead. Say what you

will, and we will abide by your words." "Will ye all leave yourselves

to me?" he said. And each one answered: "Yes. Let us go to the duke,

and you shall speak for us."

6. And Fitz-Osbern turned himself about and went before him to the duke,

and spoke for them, and he said: "Sir, no lord has such men as you have,

and who will do so much for their lord's honor, and you ought to love

and keep them well. For you they say they would be drowned in the sea or

thrown into the fire. You may trust them well, for they have served you

long and followed you at great cost. And if they have done well, they

will do better; for they will pass the sea with you, and will double

their service. For he who should bring twenty knights will gladly bring

forty, and he who should serve you thirty will bring sixty, and he from

whom one hundred is due will willingly bring two hundred. And I, in

loving loyalty, will bring in my lord's business sixty ships, well

arrayed and laden with fighting men."

7. But the barons marveled at him, and murmured aloud at the words

that he spake and the promises he made, for which they had given him

no warrant. And many contradicted him, and there arose a noise and

loud disturbance among them; for they feared that if they doubled

their service it would become a custom, and be turned into a feudal

right. And the noise and outcry became so great that a man could not

hear what his fellow said. Then the duke went aside, for the noise

displeased him, and sent for the barons one by one, and spoke to each

one of the greatness of the enterprise, and that if they would double

their service, and do freely more than their due, it should be well

for them, and that he would never make it a custom, nor require of

them any service more than was the usage of the country, and such as

their ancestors had paid to their lord. Then each one said he would do

it, and he told how many ships he would bring, and the duke had them

all written down in brief. Bishop Odo, his brother, brought him forty

ships, and the Bishop of Le Mans prepared thirty, with their mariners

and pilots. And the duke prayed his neighbors of Brittany, Anjou, and

Maine, Ponthieu, and Boulogne, to aid him in this business; and he

promised them lands if England were conquered, and rich gifts and

large pay. Thus from all sides came soldiers to him.

8. Then he showed the matter to his lord the King of France, and he

sought him at St. Germer, and found him there; and he said that he

would aid him, so that by his aid he won his right, he would hold

England from him and serve him for it. But the king answered that he

would not aid him, neither with his will should he pass the sea; for

the French prayed him not to aid him, saying he was too strong

already, and that if he let him add riches from over the sea to his

lands of Normandy and all his good knights, there would never be

peace. "And when England shall be conquered," said they, "you will

hear no more of his service. He pays little service now, but then it

will be less. The more he has, the less he will do."

9. So the duke took leave of the king, and came away in a rage,

saying: "Sir, I go to do the best I can, and if God will that I gain

my right you shall see me no more but for evil. And if I fail, and the

English can defend themselves, my children shall inherit my lands, and

thou shalt not conquer them. Living or dead, I fear no menace!"

10. Then the duke sent to Rome clerks that were skilled in speech,

and they told the Pope how Harold had sworn falsely, and that Duke

William promised that if he conquered England he would hold it of St.

Peter. And the Pope sent him a standard and a very precious ring, and

underneath the stone there was, it is said, a hair of St. Peter's. And

about that time there appeared a great star shining in the south with

very long rays, such a star as is seen when a kingdom is about to have

a new king. I have spoken with many men who saw it, and those who are

cunning in the stars call it a comet.

11. Then the duke called together carpenters and ship-builders, and in

all the ports of Normandy there was sawing of planks and carrying of

wood, spreading of sails and setting up of masts, with great labor and

industry. Thus all the summer long and through the month of August

they made ready the fleet and assembled the men; for there was no

knight in all the land, nor any good sergeant, nor archer, nor any

peasant of good courage, of age to fight, whom the duke did not summon

to go with him to England.

12. When the ships were ready, they were anchored in the Somme at St.

Valery. And as the renown of the duke went abroad there came to him

soldiers one by one or two by two, and the duke kept them with him,

and promised them much. And some asked for lands in England, and

others pay and large gifts. But I will not write down what barons,

knights, and soldiers the duke had in his company; but I have heard my

father say (I remember it well, though I was but a boy) that there

were seven hundred ships, save four, when they left St. Valery--ships,

and boats, and little skiffs. But I found it written (I know not the

truth) that there were three thousand ships carrying sails and masts.

13. And at St. Valery they tarried long for a favorable wind, and the

barons grew weary with waiting; and they prayed those of the convent

to bring out to the camp the shrine of St. Valery, and they came to it

and prayed they might cross the sea, and they offered money till all

the holy body was covered with it, and the same day there sprang up a

favorable wind. Then the duke put a lantern on the mast of his ship,

that the other ships might see it and keep their course near, and an

ensign of gilded copper on the top; and at the head of the ships,

which mariners call the prow, there was a child made of copper holding

a bow and arrow, and he had his face toward England, and seemed about

to shoot.

14. Thus the ships came to port, and they all arrived together and

anchored together on the beach, and together they all disembarked. And

it was near Hastings, and the ships lay side by side. And the good

sailors and sergeants and esquires sprang out, and cast anchor, and

fastened the ships with ropes; and they brought out their shields and

saddles, and led forth the horses.

15. The archers were the first to come to land, every one with his bow

and his quiver and arrows by his side, all shaven and dressed in short

tunics, ready for battle and of good courage; and they searched all

the beach, but no armed man could they find. When they were issued

forth, then came the knights in armor, with helmet laced and shield on

neck, and together they came to the sand and mounted their war-horses;

and they had their swords at their sides, and rode with lances raised.

The barons had their standards and the knights their pennons. After

them came the carpenters, with their axes in their hands and their

tools hanging by their side. And when they came to the archers and to

the knights they took counsel together, and brought wood from the

ships and fastened it together with bolts and bars, and before the

evening was well come they had made themselves a strong fort. And they

lighted fires and cooked food, and the duke and his barons and knights

sat down to eat; and they all ate and drank plentifully and rejoiced

that they were come to land.

16. When the duke came forth of his ship he fell on his hands to the

ground, and there rose a great cry, for all said it was an evil sign;

but he cried aloud: "Lords, I have seized the land with my two hands,

and will never yield it. All is ours." Then a man ran to land and laid

his hand upon a cottage, and took a handful of the thatch, and

returned to the duke. "Sir," said he, "take seizin of the land; yours

is the land without doubt." Then the duke commanded the mariners to

draw all the ships to land and pierce holes in them and break them to

pieces, for they should never return by the way they had come.

_"Belt and Spur," Stories of the Old Knights._

_XLI.--THE NORMAN CONQUEST._

1. Poor old Edward the Confessor, holy, weak, and sad, lay in his new

choir of Westminster--where the wicked cease from troubling and the

weary are at rest. The crowned ascetic had left no heir behind.

England seemed as a corpse, to which all the eagles might gather

together; and the South-English, in their utter need, had chosen for

their king the ablest, and it may be the justest, man in Britain--Earl

Harold Godwinson: himself, like half the upper classes of England

then, of all-dominant Norse blood; for his mother was a Danish princess.

[Illustration: _Edward the Confessor's Tomb._]

2. Then out of Norway, with a mighty host, came Harold Hardraade,

taller than all men, the ideal Viking of his time. He had been away to

Russia to King Jaroslaf; he had been in the Emperor's Varanger guard

at Constantinople--and, it was whispered, had slain a lion there with

his bare hands; he had carved his name and his comrades' in Runic

characters--if you go to Venice you may see them at this day--on the

loins of the great marble lion, which stood in his time not in Venice

but in Athens. And now, King of Norway and conqueror, for the time, of

Denmark, why should he not take England, as Sweyn and Canute took it

sixty years before, when the flower of the English gentry perished at

the fatal battle of Assingdune? If he and his half-barbarous host had

conquered, the civilization of Britain would have been thrown back,

perhaps, for centuries. But it was not to be.

3. England _was_ to be conquered by the Normans; but by the civilized,

not the barbaric; by the Norse who had settled, but four generations

before, in the northeast of France under Rou, Rollo, Rolf the Ganger,

so called, they say, because his legs were so long that, when on

horseback, he touched the ground and seemed to gang, or walk. He and

his Norsemen had taken their share of France, and called it Normandy

to this day; and meanwhile, with that docility and adaptability which

marks so often truly great spirits, they changed their creed, their

language, their habits, and had become, from heathen and murderous

Berserkers, the most truly civilized people in Europe, and--as was

most natural then--the most faithful allies and servants of the Pope

of Rome. So greatly had they changed, and so fast, that William Duke

of Normandy, the great-great grandson of Rolf the wild Viking, was

perhaps the finest gentleman, as well as the most cultivated sovereign

and the greatest statesman and warrior in Europe.

4. So Harold of Norway came with all his Vikings to Stamford Bridge by

York; and took, by coming, only that which Harold of England promised

him, namely, "forasmuch as he was taller than any other man, seven

feet of English ground."

5. The story of that great battle, told with a few inaccuracies, but

as only great poets tell, you should read, if you have not read it

already, in the "Heimskringla" of Snorri Sturluson, the Homer of the

North:

High feast that day held the birds of the air and the beasts of the

field,

White-tailed erm and sallow glede,

Dusky raven, with horny neb,

And the gray deer the wolf of the wood.

The bones of the slain, men say, whitened the place for fifty years to

come.

6. And remember that on the same day on which that fight

befell--September 27, 1066--William, Duke of Normandy, with all his

French-speaking Norsemen, was sailing across the British Channel,

under the protection of a banner consecrated by the Pope, to conquer

that England which the Norse-speaking Normans could not conquer.

7. And now King Harold showed himself a man. He turned at once from

the north of England to the south. He raised the folk of the southern,

as he had raised those of the central and northern shires, and in

sixteen days--after a march which in those times was a prodigious

feat--he was intrenched upon the fatal down which men called

Heathfield then, and Senlac, but Battle to this day--with William and

his French Normans opposite him on Telham Hill.

8. Then came the battle of Hastings. You all know what befell upon

that day, and how the old weapon was matched against the new--the

English axe against the Norman lance--and beaten only because the

English broke their ranks.

9. It was a fearful time which followed. I can not but believe that

our forefathers had been, in some way or other, great sinners, or two

such conquests as Canute's and William's would not have fallen on them

within the short space of sixty years. They did not want for courage,

as Stamford Brigg and Hastings showed full well. English swine, their

Norman conquerors called them often enough, but never English cowards.

10. Their ruinous vice, if we trust the records of the time, was what

the old monks called _accidia_, and ranked it as one of the seven

deadly sins: a general careless, sleepy, comfortable habit of mind,

which lets all go its way for good or evil--a habit of mind too often

accompanied, as in the case of the Anglo-Danes, with self-indulgence,

often coarse enough. Huge eaters and huger drinkers, fuddled with ale,

were the men who went down at Hastings--though they went down like

heroes--before the staid and sober Norman out of France.

11. But these were fearful times. As long as William lived, ruthless

as he was to all rebels, he kept order and did justice with a strong

and steady hand; for he brought with him from Normandy the instincts

of a truly great statesman. And in his sons' time matters grew worse

and worse. After that, in the troubles of Stephen's reign, anarchy let

loose tyranny in its most fearful form, and things were done which

recall the cruelties of the old Spanish _conquistadores_ in America.

Scott's charming romance of "Ivanhoe" must be taken, I fear, as a too

true picture of English society in the time of Richard I.

[Illustration: _Battle Abbey._]

12. And what came of it all? What was the result of all this misery and

wrong? This, paradoxical as it may seem: that the Norman conquest was

the making of the English people; of the free commons of England.

13. Paradoxical, but true. First, you must dismiss from your minds the

too common notion that there is now in England a governing Norman

aristocracy, or that there has been one, at least since the year 1215,

when the Magna Charta was won from the Norman John by Normans and by

English alike. For the first victors at Hastings, like the first

_conquistadores_ in America, perished, as the monk chronicles point

out, rapidly by their own crimes; and very few of our nobility can

trace their names back to the authentic Battle Abbey roll.

14. The cause is plain: The conquest of England by the Normans was not

one of those conquests of a savage by a civilized race, or of a

cowardly race by a brave race, which results in the slavery of the

conquered, and leaves the gulf of caste between two races--master and

slave. The vast majority, all but the whole population of England,

have always been free, and free as they are not when caste exists to

change their occupations. They could intermarry, if they were able

men, into the rank above them; as they could sink, if they were unable

men, into the rank below them.

15. Nay, so utterly made up now is the old blood-feud between Norman

and Englishman, between the descendants of those who conquered and

those who were conquered, that, in the children of the Prince of

Wales, after eight hundred years, the blood of William of Normandy is

mingled with the blood of Harold, who fell at Hastings. And so, by the

bitter woes which followed the Norman conquest was the whole

population, Dane, Angle, and Saxon, earl and churl, freeman and slave,

crushed and welded together into one homogeneous mass, made just and

merciful toward each other by the most wholesome of all teachings, a

community of suffering; and if they had been, as I fear they were, a

lazy and a sensual people, were taught--

That life is not as idle ore,

But heated hot with burning fears,

And bathed in baths of hissing tears,

And battered with the strokes of doom

To shape and use.

_Charles Kingsley._

_XLII.--KING RICHARD C[OE]UR DE LION IN THE HOLY LAND._

1. At the end of August, 1191, Richard led his crusading troops from

Acre into the midst of the wilderness of Mount Carmel, where their

sufferings were terrible; the rocky, sandy, and uneven ground was

covered with bushes full of long, sharp prickles, and swarms of

noxious insects buzzed in the air, fevering the Europeans with their

stings; and in addition to these natural obstacles, multitudes of Arab

horsemen harrassed them on every side, slaughtering every straggler

who dropped behind from fatigue, and attacking them so unceasingly

that it was remarked, that throughout their day's track there was not

one space of four feet without an arrow sticking in the ground.

Richard fought indefatigably, always in the van, and ready to reward

the gallant exploits of his knights. A young knight who bore a white

shield, in hopes of gaining some honorable bearing, so distinguished

himself that Richard thus greeted him at the close of the day: "Maiden

knight, you have borne yourself as a lion, and done the deed of six

crusaders."

[Illustration: _Battle of Arsaaf._]

2. At Arsaaf, on the 7th of September, a great battle was fought.

Saladin and his brother had almost defeated the two religious orders

(the Templars and the Hospitallers), and the gallant French knight

Jacques d'Avesne, after losing his leg by a stroke from a cimeter,

fought bravely on, calling on the English king until he fell

overpowered by numbers. C[oe]ur de Lion and Guillaume des Barres

retrieved the day, hewed down the enemy on all sides, and remained

masters of the field. It is even said that Richard and Saladin met

hand to hand, but this is uncertain. This victory opened the way to

Joppa, where the crusaders spent the next month in the repair of the

fortifications, while the Saracen forces lay at Ascalon.

3. While here, Richard often amused himself with hawking, and one day

was asleep under a tree when he was aroused by the approach of a party

of Saracens, and springing on his horse Frannelle, which had been

taken at Cyprus, he rashly pursued them and fell into an ambush. Four

knights were slain, and he would have been seized had not a Gascon

knight named Guillaume des Parcelets called out that he himself was

the Malak Rik (great king), and allowed himself to be taken. Richard

offered ten noble Saracens in exchange for this generous knight, whom

Saladin restored together with a valuable horse that had been captured

at the same time. A present of another Arab steed accompanied them;

but Richard's half-brother, William Longsword, insisted on trying the

animal before the king should mount it. No sooner was he on its back,

than it dashed at once across the country, and before he could stop it

he found himself in the midst of the enemy's camp. The two Saracen

princes were extremely shocked and distressed lest this should be

supposed a trick, and instantly escorted Longsword back with a gift of

three chargers, which proved to be more manageable.

4. From Joppa the crusaders marched to Ramla, and thence, on New

Year's Day, 1192, set out for Jerusalem through a country full of

greater obstacles than they had yet encountered. They were too full of

spirit to be discouraged until they came to Bethany, where the two

Grand Masters represented to Richard the imprudence of laying siege to

such fortifications as those of Jerusalem at such a season of the

year, while Ascalon was ready in his rear for a post whence the enemy

would attack him.

5. He yielded, and retreated to Ascalon, which Saladin had ruined and

abandoned, and began eagerly to repair the fortifications so as to be

able to leave a garrison there. The soldiers grumbled, saying they had

not come to Palestine to build Ascalon, but to conquer Jerusalem;

whereupon Richard set the example of himself carrying stones, and

called on Leopold, the Duke of Austria, to do the same. The sulky

reply, "He was not the son of a mason," so irritated Richard, that he

struck him a blow; Leopold straightway quitted the army, and returned

to Austria.

6. It was not without great grief and many struggles that C[oe]ur de

Lion finally gave up his hopes of taking Jerusalem. He again advanced

as far as Bethany; but a quarrel with Hugh of Burgundy, and the

defection of the Austrians made it impossible for him to proceed, and

he turned back to Ramla. While riding out with a party of knights, one

of them called out, "This way, my lord, and you will see Jerusalem."

"Alas!" said Richard, hiding his face with his mantle, "those who are

not worthy to win the Holy City are not worthy to behold it." He

returned to Acre; but there hearing that Saladin was besieging Joppa,

he embarked his troops and sailed to its aid.

7. The crescent (the standard of the Saracens) shone on its walls as

he entered the harbor; but while he looked on in dismay, he was hailed

by a priest who had leaped into the sea and swum out to inform him

that there was yet time to rescue the garrison, though the town was in

the hands of the enemy. He hurried his vessel forward, leaped into the

water breast-high, dashed upward on the shore, ordered his immediate

followers to raise a bulwark of casks and beams to protect the landing

of the rest, and rushing up a flight of steps, entered the city alone.

"St. George! St. George!" That cry dismayed the infidels, and those in

the town to the number of three thousand fled in the utmost confusion,

and were pursued for two miles by three knights who had been fortunate

enough to find him.

8. Richard pitched his tent outside the walls, and remained there with

so few troops that all were contained in ten tents. Very early one

morning, before the king was out of bed, a man rushed into his tent,

crying out: "O king! we are all dead men!" Springing up, Richard

fiercely silenced him: "Peace! or thou diest by my hand!" Then, while

hastily donning his suit of mail, he heard that the glitter of arms

had been seen in the distance, and in another moment the enemy were

upon them, seven thousand in number. Richard had neither helmet nor

shield, and only seventeen of his knights had horses; but undaunted he

drew up his little force in a compact body, the knights kneeling on

one knee covered by their shields, their lances pointing outward, and

between each pair an archer with an assistant to load his cross-bow;

and he stood in the midst encouraging them with his voice, and

threatening to cut off the head of the first who turned to fly. In

vain did the Saracens charge that mass of brave men, not one seventh

of their number; the shields and lances were impenetrable; and without

one forward step or one bolt from the cross-bows, their passive

steadiness turned back wave after wave of the enemy.

9. At last the king gave the word for the cross-bowmen to advance,

while he, with the seventeen mounted knights charged, lance in rest.

His curtal axe bore down all before it, and he dashed like lightning

from one part of the plain to another, with not a moment to smile at

the opportune gift from the polite Malek-el-Afdal, who, in the hottest

of the fight, sent him two fine horses, desiring him to use them in

escaping from this dreadful peril. Little did the Saracen princes

imagine that they would find him victorious, and that they would mount

two more pursuers!

10. Next came a terrified fugitive with news that three thousand

Saracens had entered Joppa! Richard summoned a few knights, and

without a word to the rest galloped back into the city. The panic

inspired by his presence instantly cleared the streets, and riding

back, he again led his troops to the charge; but such were the swarms

of Saracens, that it was not till evening that the Christians could

give themselves a moment's rest, or look round and feel that they had

gained one of the most wonderful of victories. Since daybreak Richard

had not laid aside his sword or axe, and his hand was all over

blistered. No wonder that the terror of his name endured for centuries

in Palestine, and that the Arab chided his starting horse with, "Dost

think that yonder is the Malek Rik?" while the mother stilled her

crying child by threats that the Malek Rik should take it.

11. These violent exertions seriously injured Richard's health, and a

low fever placed him in great danger, as well as several of his best

knights. No command or persuasion could induce the rest to commence

any enterprise without him, and the tidings from Europe induced him to

conclude a peace and return home. Malek-el-Afdal came to visit him,

and a truce was signed for three years, three months, three weeks,

three days, three hours, and three minutes, thus so quaintly arranged

in accordance with some astrological views of the Saracens. Ascalon

was to be demolished on condition that free access to Jerusalem was to

be allowed to the pilgrims; but Saladin would not restore the piece of

the True Cross, as he was resolved not to conduce to what he

considered idolatry.

12. Richard sent notice that he was coming back with double his

present force to effect the conquest, and the Sultan answered, that if

the Holy City was to pass into Frank hands, none could be nobler than

those of the Malek Rik. Fever and debility detained Richard a month

longer at Joppa, during which time he sent the Bishop of Salisbury to

carry his offerings to Jerusalem. The prelate was invited to the

presence of Saladin, who spoke in high terms of Richard's courage, but

censured his rash exposure of his own life. On October 9, 1193,

C[oe]ur de Lion took leave of Palestine, watching with tears its

receding shores, as he exclaimed, "O, Holy Land, I commend thee and

thy people unto God. May He grant me yet to return to aid thee!"

_Charlotte M. Yonge._

_XLIII.--KING JOHN AND THE CHARTER._

1. On his return from the crusade Richard was taken prisoner by the

Duke of Austria. He bought his release only to find King Philip

attacking his French dominions, and to plunge into wearisome and

indecisive wars, in the midst of which he was slain at the Castle of

Chaluz. His brother John, who followed him on the throne, was a vile

and weak ruler, under whom the great sovereignty built up by Henry II

broke utterly down. Normandy, Maine, and Anjou were reft from him by

Philip of France, and only Aquitaine remained to him on that side of

the sea. In England his lust and oppression drove people and nobles to

join in resistance to him; and their resistance found a great leader

in the Archbishop of Canterbury, Stephen Langton.

2. From the moment of his landing in England, Stephen Langton had

taken up the constitutional position of the primate in upholding the

old customs and rights of the realm against the personal despotism of

the kings. As Anselm had withstood William the Red, as Theobald had

withstood Stephen, so Langton prepared to withstand and rescue his

country from the tyranny of John. He had already forced him to swear

to observe the laws of Edward the Confessor, in other words the

traditional liberties of the realm. When the baronage refused to sail

for Poitou, saying that they owed service to him in England, but not

in foreign lands, he compelled the king to deal with them not by arms,

but by process of law. But the work which he now undertook was far

greater and weightier than this. The pledges of Henry the First had

long been forgotten when the justiciar brought them to light, but

Langton saw the vast importance of such a precedent. At the close of

the month he produced Henry's charter in a fresh gathering of barons

at St. Paul's, and it was at once welcomed as a base for the needed

reforms. From London Langton hastened to the king, whom he reached at

Northampton on his way to attack the nobles of the north, and wrested

from him a promise to bring his strife with them to legal judgment

before assailing them in arms.

3. With his enemies gathering abroad, John had doubtless no wish to be

entangled in a long quarrel at home, and the archbishop's mediation

allowed him to withdraw with seeming dignity. After a demonstration

therefore at Durham John marched hastily south again, and reached London

in October. His justiciar Geoffry Fitz-Peter at once laid before him the

claims of the Council of St. Alban's and St. Paul's, but the death of

Geoffry at this juncture freed him from the pressure which his minister

was putting upon him. "Now, by God's feet," cried John, "I am for the

first time king and lord of England," and he intrusted the vacant

justiciarship to a Poitevin, Peter des Roches, the Bishop of Winchester,

whose temper was in harmony with his own. But the death of Geoffry only

called the archbishop to the front, and Langton at once demanded the

king's assent to the charter of Henry the First.

4. In seizing on this charter as a basis for national action, Langton

showed a political ability of the highest order. The enthusiasm with

which its recital was welcomed showed the sagacity with which the

archbishop had chosen his ground. From that moment the baronage was no

longer drawn together in secret conspiracies by a sense of common

wrong or a vague longing for common deliverance; they were openly

united in a definite claim of national freedom and national law.

Secretly, and on the pretext of pilgrimage, the nobles met at St.

Edmundsbury, resolute to bear no longer with John's delays. If he

refused to restore their liberties they swore to make war on him till

he confirmed them by charter under the king's seal, and they parted to

raise forces with the purpose of presenting their demands at

Christmas. John, knowing nothing of the coming storm, pursued his

policy of winning over the Church by granting it freedom of election,

while he imbittered still more the strife with his nobles by

demanding scutage[A] from the northern nobles who had refused to

follow him to Poitou. But the barons were now ready to act, and early

in January, in the memorable year 1215, they appeared in arms to lay,

as they had planned, their demands before the king.

5. John was taken by surprise. He asked for a truce till Easter-tide,

and spent the interval in fevered efforts to avoid the blow. Again he

offered freedom to the Church, and took vows as a crusader against

whom war was a sacrilege, while he called for a general oath of

allegiance and fealty from the whole body of his subjects. But month

after month only showed the king the uselessness of further

resistance. Though Pandulf, the Pope's legate, was with him, his

vassalage had as yet brought little fruit in the way of aid from Rome;

the commissioners whom he sent to plead his cause at the shire courts

brought back news that no man would help him against the charter that

the barons claimed; and his efforts to detach the clergy from the

league of his opponents utterly failed. The nation was against the

king. He was far indeed from being utterly deserted. His ministers

still clung to him, men such as Geoffry de Lucy, Geoffry de Furnival,

Thomas Basset, and William Briwere, statesmen trained in the

administrative school of his father, and who, dissent as they might

from John's mere oppression, still looked on the power of the crown as

the one barrier against feudal anarchy; and beside them stood some of

the great nobles of royal blood, Earl William of Salisbury, his cousin

Earl William of Warenne, and Henry, Earl of Cornwall, a grandson of

Henry the First. With him too remained Ranulf, Earl of Chester, and

the wisest and noblest of the barons, William Marshal, the elder Earl

of Pembroke. William Marshal had shared in the rising of the younger

Henry against Henry II, and stood by him as he died; he had shared in

the overthrow of William Longchamp, and in the outlawry of John. He

was now an old man, firm, as we shall see in his aftercourse, to

recall the government to the path of freedom and law, but shrinking

from a strife which might bring back the anarchy of Stephen's day, and

looking for reforms rather in the bringing constitutional pressure to

bear upon the king than in forcing them from him by arms.

6. But cling as such men might to John, they clung to him rather as

mediators than adherents. Their sympathies went with the demands of

the barons when the delay which had been granted was over and the

nobles again gathered in arms at Brackley in Northamptonshire to lay

their claims before the king. Nothing marks more strongly the

absolutely despotic idea of his sovereignty which John had formed than

the passionate surprise which breaks out in his reply. "Why do they

not ask for my kingdom?" he cried. "I will never grant such liberties

as will make me a slave!" The imperialist theories of the lawyers of

his father's court had done their work. Held at bay by the practical

sense of Henry, they had told on the more headstrong nature of his

sons. Richard and John both held with Glanvill that the will of the

prince was the law of the land; and to fetter that will by the customs

and franchises which were embodied in the baron's claims seemed to

John a monstrous usurpation of his rights.

[Illustration: _King John and the Charter._]

7. But no imperialist theories had touched the minds of his people.

The country rose as one man at his refusal. At the close of May,

London threw open her gates to the forces of the barons, now arrayed

under Robert Fitz Walter as "Marshal of the Army of God and Holy

Church." Exeter and Lincoln followed the example of the capital;

promises of aid came from Scotland and Wales, the northern barons

marched hastily under Eustace de Vesci to join their comrades in

London. Even the nobles who had as yet clung to the king, but whose

hopes of conciliation were blasted by his obstinacy, yielded at last

to the summons of the "Army of God." Pandulf, indeed, and Archbishop

Langton still remained with John, but they counseled as Earl Ranulf

and William Marshal counseled his acceptance of the charter. None, in

fact, counseled its rejection save his new justiciar, the Poitevin

Peter des Roches and other foreigners who knew the barons purposed

driving them from the land. But even the number of these was small;

there was a moment when John found himself with but seven knights at

his back and before him a nation in arms. Quick as he was, he had been

taken utterly by surprise. It was in vain that in the short respite he

had gained from Christmas to Easter, he had summoned mercenaries to

his aid and appealed to his new suzerain, the Pope. Summons and appeal

were alike too late. Nursing wrath in his heart, John bowed to

necessity, and called the barons to a conference on an island in the

Thames between Windsor and Staines, near a marshy meadow by the

river-side, the meadow of Runnymede.

8. The king encamped on one bank of the river, the barons covered the

flat of Runnymede on the other. Their delegates met on the 15th of

July in the island between them, but the negotiations were a mere

cloak to cover John's purpose of unconditional submission. The Great

Charter was discussed and agreed to in a single day.

_John Richard Green._

[Footnote A: Scutage, or shield-money, was the commutation paid in

lieu of military service by all who owed service to the king.]

_XLIV.--AN EARLY ELECTION TO PARLIAMENT._

The following preliminary sketch by J. R. Green, the historian,

serves as an introduction to Palgrave's picture of an election

under Edward I:

"It was Edward the First, who first made laws in what has ever

since been called Parliament. For this purpose he called on the

shires and larger towns to choose men to 'represent' them, or

appear in their stead in the Great Council; the shires sending

knights of the shire, the towns burgesses. These, added to the

peers or high nobles and to the bishops, made up Parliament.

"The business of Parliament was not only to make good laws for

the realm, but to grant money to the king for the needs of the

state in peace and war, and to authorize him to raise this money

by taxes or subsidies from his subjects. So at first people saw

little of the great good of such Parliaments, but dreaded their

calling together, because they brought taxes with them. Nor did

men seek, as they do now, to be chosen members of Parliament, for

the way thither was long and travel costly, and so they did their

best not to be chosen, and when chosen had to be bound over under

pain of heavy fines to serve in Parliament."

1. During the last half-hour the suitors had been gathering round the

shire-oak awaiting the arrival of the high officer whose duty it was

to preside. Notwithstanding the size of the meeting, there was an

evident system in the crowd. A considerable proportion of the throng

consisted of little knots of husbandmen or churls, four or five of

whom were generally standing together, each company seeming to compose

a deputation. The churls might be easily distinguished by their dress,

a long frock of coarse yet snow-white linen hanging down to the same

length before and behind, and ornamented round the neck with broidery

rudely executed in blue thread. They wore, in fact, the attire of the

carter and plowman, a garb which was common enough in country parts

about five-and-twenty years ago, but which will probably soon be

recollected only as an ancient costume, cast away with all the other

obsolete characteristics of merry old England.

[Illustration: _An Early Election to Parliament._]

2. These groups of peasantry were the representatives of their

respective townships, the rural communes into which the whole realm

was divided; and each had a species of chieftain or head-man in the

person of an individual who, though it was evident that he belonged to

the same rank in society, gave directions to the rest. Interspersed

among the churls, though not confounded with them, were also very many

well-clad persons, possessing an appearance of rustic respectability,

who were also subjected to some kind of organization, being collected

into sets of twelve men each, who were busily employed in

confabulation among themselves. These were "the sworn centenary

deputies" or jurors, the sworn men who answered for or represented the

several hundreds.

3. A third class of members of the shire court could be equally

distinguished, proudly known by their gilt spurs and blazoned tabards

as the provincial knighthood, and who, though thus honored, appeared

to mix freely and affably in converse with the rest of the commons of

the shire.

4. A flourish of trumpets announced the approach of the high-sheriff,

Sir Giles de Argentein, surrounded by his escort of javelin-men, tall

yeomen, all arrayed in a uniform suit of livery, and accompanied,

among others, by four knights, the coroners, who took cognizance of

all pleas that concerned the king's rights within the county, and who,

though they yielded precedence to the sheriff, were evidently

considered to be almost of equal importance with him. "My masters,"

said the sheriff to the assembled crowd, "even now hath the

port-joye[B] of the chancery delivered to me certain most important

writs of our sovereign lord the king, containing his Grace's high

commands." At this time the chancellor, who might be designated as

principal secretary of state for all departments, was the great medium

of communication between king and subject: whatever the sovereign had

to ask or tell was usually asked or told by, or under, the directions

of this high functionary.

5. Now, although the gracious declarations which the chancellor was

charged to deliver were much diversified in their form, yet, somehow

or other, they all conveyed the same intent. Whether directing the

preservation of peace or preparing for the prosecution of a war,

whether announcing a royal birth or a royal death, the knighthood of

the king's son or the marriage of the king's daughter, the mandates of

our ancient kings invariably conclude with a request or a demand for

money's worth or money.

6. The present instance offered no exception to the general rule. King

Edward, greeting his loving subjects, expatiated upon the miseries

which the realm was likely to sustain by the invasion of the wicked,

barbarous, and perfidious Scots. Church and state, he alleged, were in

equal danger, and "inasmuch as that which concerneth all ought to be

determined by the advice of all concerned, we have determined,"

continued the writ, "to hold our Parliament at Westminster in eight

days from the feast of St. Hilary." The effect of the announcement was

magical. Parliament! Even before the second syllable of the word had

been uttered, visions of aids and subsidies rose before the appalled

multitude, grim shadows of assessors and collectors floated in the

ambient air.

7. Sir Gilbert Hastings instinctively plucked his purse out of his

sleeve; drawing the strings together, he twisted, and tied them in the

course of half a minute of nervous agitation into a Gordian knot,

which apparently defied any attempt to undo it, except by means

practiced by the son of Ammon. The Abbot of Oseney forthwith guided

his steed to the right about, and rode away from the meeting as fast

as his horse could trot, turning the deafest of all deaf ears to the

monitions which he received to stay.

8. The sheriff and the other functionaries alone preserved a tranquil

but not a cheerful gravity, as Sir Giles commanded his clerk to read

the whole of the writ, by which he was commanded "to cause two knights

to be elected for the shire; and from every city within his bailiwick

two citizens; and from every borough two burgesses--all of them of the

more discreet and wiser sort; and to cause them to come before the

king in this Parliament at the before-mentioned day and place, with

full powers from their respective communities to perform and consent

to such matters as by common counsel shall then and there be ordained;

and this you will in no wise omit, as you will answer at your peril."

9. A momentary pause ensued. The main body of the suitors retreated

from the high-sheriff, as though he had been a center of repulsion.

After a short but vehement conversation among themselves, one of the

bettermost sort of yeomen, a gentleman farmer, if we may use the

modern term, stepped forward and addressed Sir Giles: "Your worship

well knows that we, your commons, are not bound to proceed to the

election. You have no right to call upon us to interfere. So many of

the earls and barons of the shire, the great men, who ought to take

the main trouble, burthen, and business of the choice of the knights

upon themselves, are absent now in the king's service, that we neither

can nor dare proceed to nominate those who are to represent the

county. Such slender folks as we have no concern in these weighty

matters. How can we tell who are best qualified to serve?"

10. "What of that, John Trafford?" said the sheriff. "Do you think

that his Grace will allow his affairs to be delayed by excuses such as

these? You suitors of the shire are as much bound and obliged to

concur in the choice of the county members as any baron of the realm.

Do your duty; I command you in the king's name!"

11. John Trafford had no help. Like a wise debater, he yielded to the

pinch of the argument without confessing that he felt it; and, having

muttered a few words to the sheriff, which might be considered as an

assent, a long conference took place between him and some of his

brother stewards, as well as with other suitors. During this

confabulation several nods and winks of intelligence passed between

Trafford and a well-mounted knight; and while the former appeared to

be settling the business with the suitors, the latter, who had been

close to Sir Giles, continued gradually backing and sidling away

through the groups of shiresmen, and, just as he had got clear out of

the ring, John Trafford declared, in a most sonorous voice, that the

suitors had chosen Sir Richard de Pogeys as one of their

representatives.

12. The sheriff, who, keeping his eye fixed upon Sir Richard as he

receded, had evidently suspected some man[oe]uvre, instantly ordered

his bailiffs to secure the body of the member. "And," continued he

with much vehemence, "Sir Richard must be forthwith committed to

custody, unless he gives good bail--two substantial freeholders--that

he will duly attend in his place among the commons on the first day of

the session, according to the law and usage of Parliament."

13. All this, however, was more easily said than done. Before the

verbal precept had proceeded from the lips of the sheriff, Sir Richard

was galloping away at full speed across the fields. Off dashed the

bailiffs after the member, amid the shouts of the surrounding crowd,

who forgot all their grievances in the stimulus of the chase, which

they contemplated with the perfect certainty of receiving some

satisfaction by its termination; whether by the escape of the

fugitive, in which case their common enemy, the sheriff, would be

liable to a heavy amercement;[C] or by the capture of the knight, a

result which would give them almost equal delight, by imposing a

disagreeable and irksome duty upon an individual who was universally

disliked, in consequence of his overbearing harshness and domestic

tyranny.

14. One of the two above-mentioned gratifications might be considered

as certain. But, besides these, there was a third contingent

amusement, by no means to be overlooked, namely, the chance that in

the contest those respectable and intelligent functionaries, the

sheriff's bailiffs, might somehow or another come to some kind of

harm. In this charitable expectation the good men of the shire were

not entirely disappointed. Bounding along the open fields, while the

welkin resounded with the cheers of the spectators, the fleet courser

of Sir Richard sliddered on the grass, then stumbled and fell down the

sloping side of one of the many ancient British intrenchments by which

the plain was crossed, and, horse and rider rolling over, the latter

was deposited quite at the bottom of the foss, unhurt, but much

discomposed.

15. Horse and rider were immediately on their respective legs again:

the horse shook himself, snorted, and was quite ready to start; but

Sir Richard had to regird his sword, and before he could remount, the

bailiffs were close at him. Dick-o'-the-Gyves attempted to trip him

up, John Catchpole seized him by the collar of his pourpoint.[D] A

scuffle ensued, during which the nags of the bailiffs slyly took the

opportunity of emancipating themselves from control. Distinctly seen

from the moot-hill, the strife began and ended in a moment; in what

manner it had ended was declared without any further explanation,

when the officers rejoined the assembly, by Dick's limping gait and

the closed eye of his companion.

16. In the mean time Sir Richard had wholly disappeared, and the

special return made by the sheriff to the writ, which I translate from

the original, will best elucidate the bearing of the transaction:

"Sir Richard de Pogeys, knight, duly elected by the shire, refused to

find bail for his appearance in Parliament at the day and place within

mentioned, and having grievously assaulted my bailiffs in contempt of

the king, his crown, and dignity, and absconded to the Chiltern

Hundreds[E], into which liberty, not being shire-land or guildable, I

can not enter, I am unable to make any other execution of the writ as

far as he is concerned."

17. At the present day a nominal stewardship connected with the

Chiltern Hundreds, called an office of profit under the crown, enables

the member, by a species of juggle, to resign his seat. But it is not

generally known that this ancient domain, which now affords the means

of retreating out of the House of Commons, was in the fourteenth

century employed as a sanctuary in which the knight of the shire took

refuge in order to avoid being dragged into Parliament against his

will. Being a distinct jurisdiction, in which the sheriff had no

control, and where he could not capture the county member, it enabled

the recusant to baffle the process, at least until the short session

had closed.

_Palgrave._

[Footnote B: The port-joye was the messenger of the chancellor.]

[Footnote C: Fine.]

[Footnote D: Overcoat, or doublet.]

[Footnote E: The district of the Chilterns, or line of chalk-hills to

the east of Buckinghamshire.]

_XLV.--THE BATTLE OF CRESSY._

1. Froissart was a brilliant historian of the middle ages. His

writings are in quaint old French. At the request of Henry VIII of

England, a translation of his "Battle of Cressy" was made into the

English of that day. We insert this as a most lively description of

the battle itself, and as a specimen of old literature in which pupils

can not fail to take great interest:

2. Thenglysshmen who were in three batayls, lyeing on the grounde to

rest them, assone as they saw the frenchmen approche, they rose upon

their fete, fayre and easily, without any haste, and arranged their

batayls: the first, which was the prince's batell, the archers then

strode in the manner of a harrow, and the men at armes in the botome

of the batayle.

3. Therle of North[=a]pton and therle of Arundell, with the second

batell, were on a wyng in good order, redy to comfort the princes

batayle, if nede were. The lordes and knyghtes of France, c[=a]e not

to the assemble togyder in good order, for some came before, and some

c[=a]e after, in such haste and yvell order, y^t one of th[=e] dyd

trouble another: when the french kyng sawe the englysshmen, his blode

chaunged, and sayde to his marshals, make the genowayes go on before,

and begynne the batayle in the name of god and saynt Denyse; ther were

of the genowayse crosbowes, about a fiftene thousand, but they were so

wery of goyng a fote that day, a six leages, armed with their

crosbowes, that they sayde to their constables, we be not well ordered

to fyght this day, for we be not in the case to do any great dede of

armes, we have more nede of rest. These wordes came to the erle of

Alanson, who sayd, a man is well at ease to be charged w^t suche a

sorte of rascalles, to be faynt and fayle now at moost nede. Also the

same season there fell a great rayne, and a clyps, with a terryble

thunder, and before the rayne, ther came fleying over both batayls, a

great nombre of crowes, for feare of the tempest comynge.

4. Than anone the eyre beganne to wax clere, and the sonne to shyne

fayre and bright, the which was right in the frenchmens eyen and on

thenglysshmens backes. Whan the genowayes were assembled to-guyder,

and began to aproche, they made a great leape and crye, to abasshe

thenglysshmen, but they stode styll, and styredde not for all that;

th[=a]ns the genowayes agayne the seconde tyme made another leape, and

a fell crye, and stepped forward a lytell, and thenglysshmen remeued

not one fote; thirdly agayne they leapt and cryed, and went forthe

tyll they come within shotte; thane they shotte feersly with their

crosbowes; thun thenglysshe archers stept forthe one pase, and lette

fly their arowes so hotly, and so thycke, that it semed snowe; when

the genowayes felte the arowes persynge through heeds, armes, and

brestes, many of them cast downe their crosbowes, and dyde cutte their

strynges, and retourned dysconfited.

5. Whun the frenche kynge sawe them flye away, he sayd, slee these

rascalles, for they shall lette and trouble us without reason: then ye

shulde have sene the men of armes dasshe in among them, and kylled a

great nombre of them; and ever styll the englysshmen shot where as

they sawe thyckest preace; the sharpe arowes ranne into the men of

armes, and into their horses, and many fell, horse and men, am[=o]ge

the genowayes; and when they were downe, they coude not relyve agayne,

the preace was so thycke, that one overthrewe another. And also amonge

the englysshmen there were certayne rascalles that went a fote, with

great knyves, and they went in among the men of armes, and slewe and

murdredde many as they lay on the grounde, both erles, baronnes,

knyghtes and squyers, whereof the kynge of Englande was after

dyspleased, for he had rather they had bene taken prisoners.

6. The valyant kyng of Behaygne, called Charles of Luzenbomge, sonne

to the noble emperour Henry of Luzenbomge, for all that he was nyghe

blynde, whun he understode the order of the batayle, he sayde to them

about hym, where is the lorde Charles my son? his men sayde, sir, we

can not tell, we thynke he be fyghtynge; thun he sayde, sirs, ye ar my

men, my companyons, and frendes in this journey. I requyre you bring

me so farre forwarde, that I may stryke one stroke with my swerde;

they sayde they wolde do his commandement, and to the intent that they

shulde not lese him in the prease, they tyed all their raynes of their

bridelles eche to other, and sette the kynge before to accomplysshe

his desyre, and so thei went on their ennemyes; the lorde Charles of

Behaygne, his sonne, who wrote hymselfe kyng of Behaygne, and bare the

armes, he came in good order to the batayle, but wh[=a]ne he sawe that

the matter went awrie on their partie, he departed, I can not tell you

whiche waye, the kynge his father was so farre forwarde that he strake

a stroke with his swerde, ye and mo thun foure, and fought valyuntly,

and so dyde his compuny, and they adv[=e]tured themselfe so forwarde,

that they were ther all slayne, and the next day they were founde in

the place about the kyng, and all their horses tyed eche to other.

7. The erle of Alansone came to the batayle right ordy notlye, and

fought with thenglysshmen; and the erle of Flaunders also on his

parte; these two lordes with their c[=o]panyes wosted the englysshe

archers, and came to the princes batayle, and there fought valyantly

longe. The frenche kynge wolde fayne have come thyder whanne he saw

their baners, but there was a great hedge of archers before hym. The

same day the frenche kynge hadde gyven a great blacke courser to Sir

John of Heynault, and he made the lorde Johan of Fussels to ryde on

hym, and to bere his banerre; the same horse tooke the bridell in the

tethe, and brought hym through all the currours of th[=e]'glysshmen,

and as he wolde have retourned agayne, he fell in a great dyke, and

was sore hurt, and had been ther deed, and his page had not ben, who

followed him through all the batayls, and sawe where his maister lay

in the dyke, and had none other lette but for his horse, for

thenglysshmen wolde not yssue out of their batayle, for takyng of any

prisiner; th[=a]ne the page alyghted and relyved his maister, thun he

went not backe agayn y^e same way that they came, there was to many in

his way.

8. This batyle bytwene Broy and Cressy, this Saturday was right cruell

and fell, and many a feat of armes done, that came not to my

knowledge; in the night, dyverse knyghtes and sqyers lost their

maisters, and sometyme came on thenglysshmen, who receyved them in

such wyse, that they were ever nighe slayne; for there was none taken

to mercy nor to raunsome, for so thenglysshmen were determyned: in the

mornyng the day of the batayle, certayne frenchmen and almaygnes

perforce opyned the archers of the princes batayle, and came and

fought with the men of armes hande to hande: than the seconde batayle

of thenglysshmen came to sucour the princes batayle, the whiche was

tyme, for they had as th[=a]n moche ado; and they with y^e prince sent

a messanger to the kynge, who was on a lytell wyndmyll hyll; thun the

knyght sayd to the kyng, sir, therle of Warwyke, and therle of

C[=a]fort, Sir Reynolde Cobham, and other, suche as be about the

prince your sonne, as feersly fought with all, and ar sore handled,

wherefore they desyre you, that you and your batayle wolle come and

ayde them, for if the frenchmen encrease, as they dout they woll, your

sonne and they shall have much ado.

9. Thun the kynge sayde, is my sonne deed or hurt, or on the yerthe

felled? no sir, quoth the knyght, but he is hardely matched, wherefore

he hath nede of your ayde. Well, sayde the king, returne to him, and

to thrm that sent you hyther, and say to them, that they sende no more

to me for an adventure that falleth, as long as my son is alyve, and

also say to th[=e], that they suffre hym this day to wynne his

spurres, for if god he pleased, I woll this journey be his, and the

honoure therof, and to them that be aboute him. Thun the knyght

returned agayn to th[=e], and shewed the kynges wordes, the which

gretly encouraged them, and repoyned in that they had sende to the

kynge as they dyd. Sir Godfray of Harecourt, wolde gladly that the

erle of Harcourt, his brother, myghte have been saved, for he hurd say

by th[=e] that he sawe his baner, howe that he was ther in the felde

on the french partie, but Sir Godfray coude not come to hym betymes

for he was slayne or he coude co[=e] at hym, and so also was therle of

Almare, his nephue.

10. In another place the erle of Aleuson, and therle of Flaunders,

fought valyantly, every lorde under his owne banere; but finally they

coude not resyst agaynt the payssance of thenglysshmen, and so ther

they were also slayne, and dyvers knyghtes and sqyers, also therle of

Lewes of Bloyes, nephue to the frenche kyng, and the duke of Lorayne,

fought under their baners, but at last they were closed in among a

c[=o]pany of englysshmen and welshmen, and were there slayed, for all

their powers. Also there was slayne the erle of Ausser, therle of

Saynt Poule, and many others.

11. In the evenynge, the frenche kynge, who had lefte about hym no

more than a threscore persons, one and other, whereof Sir John of

Heynalt was one, who had remounted ones the kynge, for his horse was

slayne with an arowe, th[=a] sayde to the kynge, sir, departe hense,

for it is tyme, lese not yourselfe wylfully, if ye have losse at this

tyme, ye shall recover it agaynt another season, and soo he took the

kynge's horse by the brydell, and ledde hym away in a maner perforce;

than the kyng rode tyll he came to the castell of Broy. The gate was

closed, because it was by that tyme darke; than the kynge called the

captayne, who came to the walles, and sayd, Who is that calleth there

this tyme of night? than the kynge sayde, open your gate quickly, for

this is the fortune of Fraunce; the captayne knewe than it was the

kyng, and opyned the gate, and let downe the bridge; than the kyng

entred, and he had with hym but fyve baronnes, Sir Johan of Heynault,

Sir Charles of Monmorency, the lorde of Beaureive, the lorde Dobegny,

and the lorde of Mountfort; the kynge wolde not tary there, but

dr[=a]ke and departed thense about mydnyght, and so rode by suche

guydes as knewe the country, tyll he came in the mornynge to Anyeuse,

and then he rested. This saturday the englysshmen never departed for

their batayls for chasynge of any man, but kept styll their felde, and

ever defended themselfe agaynst all such as came to assayle them; the

batayle ended about evynsonge tyme.

_XLVI.--THE BATTLE OF AGINCOURT._

1. Fair stood the wind for France

When we our sails advance,

Nor now to prove our chance

Longer will tarry;

But, putting to the main,

At Kaux, the mouth of Seine,

With all his martial train,

Landed King Harry.

2. And taking many a fort,

Furnish'd in warlike sort,

March'd toward Agincourt

In happy hour;

Skirmishing day by day

With those that stop'd the way,

Where the French gen'ral lay

With all his power.

3. Which in his height of pride,

King Henry to deride,

His ransom to provide

To the king sending;

Which he neglects the while,

As from a nation vile,

Yet with an angry smile,

Their fall portending.

4. And turning to his men,

Quoth our brave Henry then,

Though they be one to ten,

Be not amazed.

Yet, have we well begun,

Battles so bravely won

Have ever to the sun

By fame been raised.

5. And for myself, quoth he,

This my full rest shall be,

England ne'er mourn for me,

Nor more esteem me.

Victor I will remain,

Or on this earth lie slain,

Never shall she sustain

Loss to redeem me.

6. Poictiers and Cressy tell,

When most their pride did swell,

Under our swords they fell,

No less our skill is,

Than when our grandsire great,

Claiming the regal seat,

By many a warlike feat,

Lop'd the French lilies.

7. The Duke of York so dread

The eager vanward led;

With the main Henry sped

Amongst his henchmen.

Excester had the rear,

A braver man not there;

O Lord, how hot they were

On the false Frenchmen!

8. They now to fight are gone,

Armor on armor shone,

Drum now to drum did groan,

To hear was wonder;

That with the cries they make,

The very earth did shake,

Trumpet to trumpet spake,

Thunder to thunder.

9. Well it thine age became,

O noble Erpingham,

Which did the signal aim

To our hid forces;

When from a meadow by,

Like a storm suddenly,

The English archery

Struck the French horses.

10. With Spanish yew so strong,

Arrows a cloth-yard long,

That like to serpents stung,

Piercing the weather;

None from his fellow starts,

But playing manly parts,

And, like true English hearts,

Stuck close together.

11. When down their bows they threw

And forth their bilbows drew,

And on the French they flew;

Not one was tardy.

Arms from their shoulders sent,

Scalps to the teeth were rent,

Down the French peasants went,

Our men were hardy.

12. This while our noble king,

His broadsword brandishing,

Down the French host did ding,

As to o'erwhelm it;

And many a deep wound lent,

His arms with blood besprent,

And many a cruel dent

Bruisèd his helmet.

13. Glo'ster, that duke so good,

Next of the royal blood,

For famous English stood,

With his brave brother,

Clarence, in steel so bright,

Though but a maiden knight,

Yet in that furious fight

Scarce such another.

14. Warwick in blood did wade,

Oxford the foe invade,

And cruel slaughter made,

Still as they ran up;

Suffolk his axe did ply,

Beaumont and Willoughby;

Bore them right doughtily,

Ferrers and Fanhope.

15. Upon Saint Crispin's day

Fought was this noble fray,

Which fame did not delay

To England to carry.

O when shall Englishmen

With such acts fill a pen,

Or England breed again

Such a King Harry?

_Michael Drayton._