THE TROUBLOUS MIDDLE AGES: DEMONSTRATING A SHORT REIGN FOR THOSE WHO
TRAVEL AT A ROYAL GAIT.
The Ethels now made an effort to regain the throne from Edward the
Elder. Ethelwold, a nephew of Edward, united the Danes under his own
banner, and relations were strained between the leaders until 905, when
Ethelwold was slain. Even then the restless Danes and frontier settlers
were a source of annoyance until about 925, when Edward died; but at his
death he was the undisputed king of all Britain, and all the various
sub-monarchs and associate rulers gave up their claims to him. He was
assisted in his affairs of state by his widowed sister, Ethelfleda.
Edward the Elder had his father's ability as a ruler, but was not so
great as a scholar or _littérateur_. He had not the unfaltering devotion
to study nor the earnest methods which made Alfred great. Alfred not
only divided up his time into eight-hour shifts,--one for rest, meals,
and recreation, one for the affairs of state, and one for study and
devotion,--but he invented the candle with a scale on it as a
time-piece, and many a subject came to the throne at regular periods to
set his candle by the royal lights.
[Illustration: CAME TO THE THRONE AT REGULAR PERIODS TO SET THEIR
CANDLES BY THE ROYAL LIGHT.]
Think of those days when the Sergeant-at-Arms of Congress could not turn
back the clock in order to assist an appropriation at the close of the
session, but when the light went out the session closed.
Athelstan succeeded his father, Edward the Presiding Elder, and
resembled him a good deal by defeating the Welsh, Scots, and Danes. In
those days agriculture, trade, and manufacturing were diversions during
the summer months; but the regular business of life was warfare with the
Danes, Scots, and Welsh.
These foes of England could live easily for years on oatmeal, sour milk,
and cod's heads, while the fighting clothes of a whole regiment would
have been a scant wardrobe for the Greek Slave, and after two centuries
of almost uninterrupted carnage their war debt was only a trifle over
eight dollars.
Edmund, the brother of Ethelstan, at the age of eighteen, succeeded his
brother on the throne.
One evening, while a little hilarity was going on in the royal
apartments, Edmund noticed among the guests a robber named Leolf, who
had not been invited. Probably he was a pickpocket; and as a royal
robber hated anybody who dropped below grand larceny, the king ordered
his retainers to put him out.
But the retainers shrank from the undertaking, therefore Edmund sprang
from the throne like a tiger and buried his talons in the robber's
tresses. There was a mixture of feet, legs, teeth, and features for a
moment, and when peace was restored King Edmund had a watch-pocket full
of blood, and the robber chieftain was wiping his stabber on one of the
royal tidies.
[Illustration: EDMUND THROWING LEOLF OUT.]
Edred now succeeded the deceased Edmund, his brother, and with a heavy
heart took up the eternal job of fighting the Danes. Edred set up a
sort of provincial government over Northumberland, the refractory
district, and sent a governor and garrison there to see that the Danes
paid attention to what he said. St. Dunstan had considerable influence
over Edred, and was promoted a great deal by the king, who died in the
year 955.
He was succeeded by Edwy the Fair, who was opposed by another Ethel.
Between the Ethels and the Welsh and Danes, there was little time left
in England for golf or high tea, and Edwy's reign was short and full of
trouble.
He had trouble with St. Dunstan, charging him with the embezzlement of
church funds, and compelled him to leave the country. This was in
retaliation for St. Dunstan's overbearing order to the king. One
evening, when a banquet was given him in honor of his coronation, the
king excused himself when the speeches got rather corky, and went into
the sitting-room to have a chat with his wife, Elgiva, of whom he was
very fond, and her mother. St. Dunstan, who had still to make a speech
on Foreign Missions with a yard or so of statistics, insisted on Edwy's
return. An open outbreak was the result. The Church fell upon the King
with a loud, annual report, and when the débris was cleared away, a
little round-shouldered grave in the churchyard held all that was
mortal of the king. His wife was cruelly and fatally assassinated, and
Edgar, his brother, began to reign. This was in the year 959, and in
what is now called the Middle Ages.
Edgar was called the Pacific. He paid off the church debt, made Dunstan
Archbishop of Canterbury, helped reform the church, and, though but
sixteen years of age when he removed all explosives from the throne and
seated himself there, he showed that he had a massive scope, and his
subjects looked forward to much anticipation.
He sailed around the island every year to show the Danes how prosperous
he was, and made speeches which displayed his education.
His coronation took place thirteen years after his accession to the
throne, owing to the fact, as given out by some of the more modern
historians, that the crown was at Mr. Isaac Inestein's all this time,
whereas the throne, which was bought on the instalment plan, had been
redeemed.
Pictures of the crown worn by Edgar will convince the reader that its
redemption was no slight task, while the mortgage on the throne was a
mere bagatelle.
[Illustration: EDGAR SURMOUNTED BY HIS CROWN.]
[Illustration: EDGAR CAUSES HIS BARGE TO BE ROWED BY EIGHT KINGS.]
A bright idea of Edgar's was to ride in a row-boat pulled by eight kings
under the old _régime_.
Personally, Edgar was reputed to be exceedingly licentious; but the
historian wisely says these stories may have been the invention of his
enemies. Greatness is certain to make of itself a target for the mud of
its own generation, and no one who rose above the level of his
surroundings ever failed to receive the fragrant attentions of those who
had not succeeded in rising. All history is fraught also with the
bitterness and jealousy of the historian except this one. No bitterness
can creep into this history.
Edgar, it is said, assassinated the husband of Elfrida in order that he
might marry her. It is also said that he broke into a convent and
carried off a nun; but doubtless if these stories were traced to their
very foundations, politics would account for them both.
He did not favor the secular clergy, and they, of course, disliked him
accordingly. He suffered also at the hands of those who sought to
operate the reigning apparatus whilst his attention was turned towards
other matters.
He was the author of the scheme whereby he utilized his enemies, the
Welsh princes, by demanding three hundred wolf heads per annum as
tribute instead of money. This wiped out the wolves and used up the
surplus animosity of the Welsh.
As the Welsh princes had no money, the scheme was a good one. Edgar died
at the age of thirty-two, and was succeeded by Edward, his son, in 975.
The death of the king at this early age has given to many historians the
idea that he was a sad dog, and that he sat up late of nights and cut up
like everything, but this may not be true. Death often takes the good,
the true, and the beautiful whilst young.
However, Edgar's reign was a brilliant one for an Anglo-Saxon, and his
coon-skin cap is said to have cost over a pound sterling.
[Illustration: EDGAR THE PACIFIC.]