TRAITORS IN COUNCIL.
"Treason doth never prosper. What's the reason?
Why, if it prosper, none dare call it treason."
_Epigram._
We pass over the details of the sturdy struggle and victory over the
Danes at Battle-bridge, and the disastrous defeat of Hastings, except
just to note that the young chieftain Oswald left his father dead on the
battle-field. The next three years were ones of immunity from the
rapacity of the Normans, so far as we were concerned, for they never
ventured so far north. But in the year 1069, whilst William was absent
in Normandy, there was a powerful conspiracy entered into for the
purpose of wresting the kingdom from him. The Danes landed in the
Humber. The Saxons rallied throughout the North. York was taken, and its
garrison of three thousand Normans put to the sword.
Immediately after the wonderful successes which attended the
insurrectionary movement, the leaders of the rebellion hastily called
together at York what was known as a "Thing," or council. All the
leaders of note were summoned. A somewhat motley company they were,
their aims being far from identical, and the elements of disruption and
disunion were on the surface. All of them were excessively elated and
flushed with the complete and wonderful victories achieved--I am sorry
to say, also, very much demoralised by them. The Danish leaders in
particular were so, for they had taken much spoil, plundering friend or
foe pretty much as they listed--plunder being, in fact, their sole
reason for taking part in the movement. Very conspicuous, both by their
dress and demeanour, were these Danish leaders. They were deeply bronzed
and hardy-looking, rough and fierce as warrior seamen who had been wont
all their lives to do battle with foes on land, and often with the
fiercer and still more deadly foe of old ocean. They carried daggers at
their belts, and heavy swords dangled by their sides. The young
chieftain Oswald, whom we have already introduced to the readers, was
there. The few years of stress and struggle since last we met him had
had a marked effect upon him. He had stood by Harold's side at Stanford
Bridge, and marched with him to Hastings, and stood in the forefront of
that historic "wedge" of sturdy Saxons, who defied the utmost efforts of
William's horse and foot to dislodge them. The playfulness of youth had
given place to the stern thoughtfulness of manhood; whilst the tall
figure had broadened in sturdy proportions. He was of commanding
presence, young, handsome, and daring, yet wise as any elder, known
intimately by me, and a very great favourite with me also, and
destined to figure prominently in these records. By his side,
as a near neighbour, as well as a compatriot, sat the young Thane
Beowulf--aforementioned--of another lineage, but still identified with
the Saxon cause, being native born, though by his father's side a
descendant of the Danes who settled in the north of England three
generations earlier. Other leaders also there were, of whom it is not
necessary to speak, as they occupy no further place in these pages.
At the appointed hour Waltheof, the leader of the Saxon forces, entered.
He was a man gifted by nature with the physical proportions which
attract attention. But there was a hesitancy, irresolution, and lack of
force depicted in his countenance, and a wariness and suspicion about
his small, shrinking grey eyes, that were the reverse of reassuring.
Accompanying Waltheof was a Norman knight at whose appearance many
sprang to their feet in amazement. Seeing which, Waltheof introduced the
Norman to the company.
"Worthy thanes and nobles," said he, "this gallant Norman is Baron
Vigneau, one of William's bravest knights, who has been assigned some
lands bordering on the Fen country, and had tacked on to the beggarly
gift, the duty of defending that coast against our allies the Danes, as
well as to assist in keeping in check our brave countryman Hereward. A
weighty charge, I warrant, for such a beggar's dole of barren acres.
This gallant knight comes as emissary of a still more famous Norman, the
Count de Montfort, whose lance wrought such havoc in our ranks at
Hastings. Count de Montfort has good and weighty reasons against the
king, or his councillors, for the base ingratitude with which his
services have been rewarded; and he offers to join hands with us, and
will lead into the field seventeen knights, fully equipped and
accoutred, together with three hundred of foot; all of them men-at-arms,
trained and stout. This worthy knight, Baron Vigneau, of whose prowess
also I have ample proof, is bearer of letters--which I have carefully
examined--from the Count de Montfort, duly signed and sealed, and
bearing ample evidence of good faith. Under the circumstances, I have
taken the liberty to introduce this worthy knight to our council."
This speech was received by many in blank astonishment, and there was
loud and angry murmuring amongst the company, but no one seemed willing
to voice the discontent. Oswald, however, sprang to his feet and said,
"Noble sir, no doubt the credentials presented by this Norman knight are
such as meet with your approval, but I would respectfully urge that no
one should sit at our Council who has not attested his fidelity to our
cause by services rendered in the field of battle; for when this is the
case we have pledges which cannot be shaken off at pleasure."
"A plague on your impudence, boy! You are too ready of the tongue! Let
the elders speak if they have any objections to make!--but I am not in
the habit of having my conduct called in question by a mere youth; and
what is sufficient for me must be sufficient for such as you, and
without cavil. What say our Danish allies? No objection, I see. Then let
us proceed to business." So saying, he took his place at the head of the
board, and the bulky Norman slid into a back seat.
The question to deliberate upon was how to prosecute the war so
auspiciously begun. The Council, however, proceeded to discuss the
question in a very unpromising fashion, the discussion being
characterised by a good deal of blatant braggadocio, and accompanied by
a very free use of the wine-cup.
The chief of the Danes reared aloft his stalwart form and said,--
"My lord, we Danes are wanting to know when we are to make a move south?
We have wasted four good days in drivel and talk, when we should have
been making good our vantage. We might by this time have sacked
Shepfield, Leacaster, and Birmingam, where they tell me the
gold-smiths', armourers', and weavers' crafts are flourishing, and
where, to boot, the Normans have built themselves many pretty house
places full of dainty stuff. All of which we might have pouched whilst
this dog's whelp is abroad!"
"Worthy thane," replied Waltheof, "we are waiting for Malcolm of
Scotland and the young Prince Atheling, for we expect the Saxons of the
south will rally to the standard of the Prince. We also have to remember
that the Normans are more thickly posted farther south, and we must
therefore have all our forces up."
"Tut, tut! Cowardice is at the bottom of it all, as I thought. But what
care we for the Norman dogs? and what care we for a baby prince who
cannot be brought to the fray? We want the spoils, and there is none to
be had cowering here like a fox in his hole. If we are not to move south
at once, why then we take the tide the morn's even, and leave you to
face the bear when he comes to his lair as best you can."
At this juncture the attention of every member of the council was
suddenly arrested by the advent of a messenger who suddenly burst into
the room, with the perspiration pouring off him by reason of the hot
haste with which he had ridden.
"How now, fellow! what news hast thou which calls for such haste?" said
Waltheof.
"My lords," exclaimed the messenger, "I have ridden all speed to make
known unto you that the Norman is back again in England, and that he is
rapidly marching northwards at the head of an army; he being not more
than two days' march to the south."
If a thunderbolt had dashed into the room instead of this messenger, the
effect could not have been greater. Waltheof turned pale as death, and
peered nervously about the room, as though he expected to be instantly
confronted by the dreaded presence of the king. Several also rose from
their seats and promptly slid out of the room in dismay at the tidings.
The Danish rovers were not slow to note this arrant cowardice, and one
of them immediately jumped to his feet in fierce exasperation at this
conduct, and sneeringly shouted, "Ha, ha! the Saxon caitiffs are
slinking off at the mention of this dog of a Norman! Never mind, let the
cowards go. I pledge me a health to the Danish warriors, who will dare
to fight the cowardly Saxons' battle for them; but we'll see to't that
the Danish war-ships shall bear away the spoil," and as he spoke he
gulped down a huge draught of wine.
"Excuse me, worthy thane," said Oswald, the young Saxon chieftain,
starting to his feet at these taunts; "let me tell you the Saxons have
their virtues, and valour too, not one whit behind that of your
countrymen."
"Whew! Virtues say you?" bawled the quarrelsome and half-drunken Dane.
"Aye, marry! Saxons can preach you a homily with any shaveling priest in
the land, or simper as chastely as any wench. Virtues! Ha, ha! Ho, ho!
_Maugre!_ Virtues by the bushel, I warrant you, sirs. Marry, anything,
in fact, but fight. Ha, ha! Virtues! Thou hast well said it, and aptly
too, young suckling! If I were a Saxon I'd don my mother's petticoats."
"Hear me, thane," retorted Oswald, repressing with great difficulty the
rising choler. "You are our ally, and that shall be some excuse for your
unseemly mouthing; but hark you to this for a moment. Your memory does
not seem quite long enough to remember Battle-bridge and the precious
figure cut by your countrymen on that occasion against the Saxon; and
yet it is not more than four years agone. Hark you to this also, friend;
I warrant you will find, ere this war be done, that Saxons can fight as
bravely as any Dane that ever wielded sword."
But the Dane persisted in his irritating and quarrelsome jesting.
"Saxons fight?" he bawled, "Why, come, that is a joke, anyhow! I say,
young Milkfed, tell me, if you can, what of this? How comes it to pass
that either Norman or Dane, or even the tricky Scot, come when they list
to crow on the Saxons' dunghill? How comes it also, my valiant Saxon
cub, that you should ask us to come and help you fight this dog of a
Norman? Read me that riddle, can you, boy? You besought us to come and
help you, and here we are. I wish you joy of it. You'll be well rid when
we go; for if we get not Norman booty, I warrant we will have Saxon, if
we skin every Saxon churl in the island for it. What think you to that,
young Sixfoot, eh?"
The altercation seemed likely to develop into a serious quarrel, but at
this juncture a Danish messenger crept slily into the room, and, nudging
his leader's elbow, whispered something in his ear, at which he jumped
to his feet and turned to his comrade, and between them a brief and
excited conversation was carried on in an undertone; the result being
that immediately the pair hurriedly withdrew from the room. Oswald, who
had been watching these Danes with a suspicious eye, immediately turned
to the leader, Waltheof; but he beheld with astonishment that the
leader's chair was empty; Waltheof, amid the clamour of voices, having
noiselessly slipped out of the room.
"Ah, ah! what now?" he ejaculated, leaping to his feet and dragging his
comrade Beowulf to the door. "There is something ominous in all this,
Beowulf. It bodes no good to the Saxon cause, mark me."
"What is it, think you, Oswald, that breeds this fear and distrust in
the breasts of our leaders?"
"I know not, Beowulf, but, by the rood! I cannot believe that the mere
mention of the Norman's name breeds this cowardice and panic in the
breasts of our leaders. 'Tis not fear that has overtaken these Danes,
mark me, but something more potent. They are at best but hirelings, and
are as treacherous as the foul fiend. They will not scruple to betray us
for a paltry bribe if it be offered; and this Norman is astute enough to
know that they have their price."
"That is not the extent of the mischief, Oswald. I marked this Waltheof
closely, and I like not his looks at all. The coward's blood forsook his
cheek instantly at the mention of the Norman's name. I warrant him a
coward and traitor at heart, or I know not a coward when I see him."
"What is to be done, Beowulf!"
"We must stand to it like men. We know our duty, and to turn tail like a
whipped hound ere we have seen this Norman's face would be worse than
cowardice."
"Then we must place ourselves at the head of our men forthwith; for if
any idle rumours reach their ears, I would not answer for it. Indeed, if
William be within striking distance we must bestir ourselves, for if he
find us unprepared, he knows well how to push his vantage against an
unready foe."
Thus this ill-starred Council came to an end, and it left the Saxons as
a rope of sand, without cohesion, without any definite plan of attack or
of defence--a ready prey for a wily and daring commander. In bitter
dejection, and with forebodings of impending disaster, one by one the
members passed out, each one to pursue his own course.
When the Saxon members of the Council had one and all left the room,
then uprose the bulky and sinister-looking figure of the Norman
emissary, from a seat in a shaded corner, where, unobserved, he had been
quietly taking note of the wretched divisions of the Saxon Council. As
he came forward he burst into a hoarse and derisive laugh, and
exclaimed, "Here's a go anyhow--ha, ha! A precious revolt it is! A man
would be an ass to pin his fortunes to a quarrelsome rabble like this.
Why, I warrant me they would cut one another's throats at a word! And
then how the bubble burst up at the mere mention of the Conqueror's
name! But where are my precious letters?" said he, fumbling in his
doublet for something, and eventually pulling out a packet carefully
folded with a silken band, and sealed in several places by a huge seal
with the crest and quarterings of the famous Count De Montfort. "Ha, ha,
my precious!" said he, turning the missive over and eyeing it with
savage delight. "I'm glad I kept possession of you. You are a treasure!
I'll not part with you yet awhile," and he carefully thrust the letter
back again within his doublet. "Ha, ha!" said he, scowling demoniacally,
"De Montfort will finger that missive no more until he makes good his
bargain with me. I'll have his proud daughter as the price of this, or
we'll see what will come to pass. I have my own belt to buckle as well
as De Montfort; and I'll do it now after my own humour. I'll no longer
dangle like a moonstruck suitor at my lady's skirts, and wag my tail
like any spaniel if I should chance to get a word or a smile. I have
been meek and humble long enough; but now Vigneau shall be first, for I
have got him! Trapped, by ----! He thought he would play the traitor,
did he? fool and dolt that he is! One would have thought him wiser than
to do his treason second-hand. He makes pretence of wisdom, but he acts
the fool at times as roundly as any clown. But I'll no more of this
anyhow. I do believe the Saxon clowns have scurried off to their holes
like a parcel of rats already. I must be off too, for if the _tanner's_
son should catch me at my present business, it will go bad with my hide
I'm feared; and I should like to keep my skin whole a little longer,
come what may. Ho, ho!" said he, bursting again into hoarse laughter. "I
wonder what Odo or Fitz-Osborne would give to know of this little freak
of De Montfort's! The wily Odo has ousted him from William's councils
already, and if he had possession of this"--thumping his chest where the
missive lay--"he'd have De Montfort's head in a trice. Enough! that will
do for me." So saying, he vanished from the hall.
Meanwhile, the second messenger, at whose communication the Danish
sea-rovers had vanished from the Council, proved to be an emissary of
the wily Conqueror--his purpose being to negotiate with the Danes, and
with Waltheof, conditions on which they would retire from the fray.
Scarcely were they outside than he said to these Danes,--
"My master offers to you five hundred ounces of beaten gold, and a free
passage for your vessels, together with such plunder as you can wrest
from the Saxons."
"Five hundred ounces of gold is a sorry price for a wealthy king like
your master to offer for such a service," said one of the Danes. "But
come now, if your master will make it one thousand ounces, to be
delivered over by sunset to-morrow; together with our plunder, and such
as we can further gather; why then, within twenty-four hours our vessels
shall be ploughing the northern seas for home."
"Done!" said the messenger. "My hand on it. The gold shall be delivered
over to you by sunset to-morrow, as you say."
No sooner was this bargain made than the spy turned his attention to
Waltheof, a man treacherous by instinct, and cowardly by nature. It is
scarcely necessary to say, he grasped only too eagerly at the promised
free pardon, coupled as it was with large grants of land and estates.
With the Saxon forces thus weakened and demoralised, William knew the
remnant of this powerful conspiracy would be crushed with the utmost
ease by him.