BARON VIGNEAU.
"All is lost save honour."
Early on the morrow, strange rumours and stories, which made the blood
curdle, were brought to the monastery by refugees from far and near.
Both gentle and simple fled hither, being buoyed up by the widespread,
but in this case delusive notion, that sanctuary walls would be sacredly
respected. Amongst the number was the lovely daughter of the worthy
Thane Beowulf, who, along with his son, had been slain in resisting the
advance of the Normans. My heart sank within me as I looked upon her
great beauty, realising with painful vividness how helpless and impotent
I was to protect her--well knowing that lust and rapine, let loose,
would not be awed or restrained even by the sanctity of the Church.
I had commanded the monks, with all refugees, to repair to the chapel
for prayer, whilst I at the first summons repaired to the gate with some
of the housecarles and lay brothers, and commanded the gates to be
thrown open, when in poured a motley crowd of soldiers and men-at-arms,
evidently bent on plunder, and totally uncontrolled by any sort of
discipline. The crowd surged by me and carried me along, deriding my
entreaties to be heard. One leader, in complete armour, and whom I
afterwards ascertained to be Baron Vigneau, I appealed to in vain. He
rudely pushed me aside with an oath, bidding me say my prayers to the
devil, for he would soon have me and my monkish crew.
One party made a dash for the northern extremity of the enclosure, where
were the outbuildings, in which our cattle, sheep and goats, and
numerous attendants were housed. These servants, however, made their
exit, with all speed, from the northern gate, as they saw the Normans
enter at the south. One, Badger as he was called by his companions, who
was keeper of the hounds and hawks--a mighty hunter, who kept our larder
well stocked with venison, and fish, and game of every kind--held his
ground. A sly rogue was Badger--so called from his propensity for
hunting these animals and clothing himself in their skins. For hunting,
hawking, and fishing, he was a prodigy. He was well-nigh fleet as a
hare, and could swim like an otter; and had wherewithal so sly a humour,
and such shrewdness, that he was a great favourite with me, and I had
taken pains to add such instruction as I thought would be serviceable to
him. The reader will pardon me this digression. But this Badger was such
an active agent in the subsequent troublous times, and served the Saxon
cause so well, both by his matchless cunning and his rare valour, that I
have taken the trouble to introduce the reader to him at such great
length. A most grotesque figure he presented on this fateful morning,
clothed as he was from head to foot in skins.
"Hilloa!" roared one trooper to another, as they set eyes upon him.
"What the deuce kind of an animal is this?"
"The foul fiend, or one of his imps, by Moses!" rejoined the other.
"Who are you, Satan?" said the first one, riding up to him and giving
him a hearty thwack across the shoulders with the flat of his sword; at
which Badger set up a most hypocritical howl. "Stash that, will you, you
lump of hog's-flesh, or I'll make pork of you in a twinkling! Where are
your cronies? Have you buried them, you old grave-digger?"
"Oh, hang him, Jaques!" chimed in the other impatiently. "Don't bother
with the slobbering clown! But I've a notion it is a dry shop in this
quarter; you had better get back again to the jolly friars, if you would
have venison pasties and old ale. But I'm going to have a look round,
and see if they have left a hack or two better than mine. They haven't
left a worse, I'm blowed! I don't believe he is a horse. He's only a
shadow and a half; the wind was just going to carry him off when I took
him: so I committed no robbery when I stole him. I vow it's only my
weight which keeps him in this world at all. Gee up, old marrow-bones!
Your old backbone will do to shave the monks with. I wonder I'm not
split up the middle by this. I verily believe my trunk is shorter by a
good six inches than my legs, and I've only been perched on your old
razor-rig these three days. Heigh-up! Jaques," continued he, suddenly
wheeling round, "if you find a tap of good old ale before I get back,
hold on to it till I come! I'm as thirsty as a sponge that hasn't had a
soaking for twenty years. I could suck up half a hogshead easily. My
soul is oozing away through the pores in my body, and all for lack of
moisture."
Meanwhile, the monks, together with numerous refugees, chiefly women,
were gathered in the church, vainly trusting to the sanctity of the
place for protection. I had no faith in this, however, and had taken the
precaution to have our most valuable and costly treasures of silver and
gold and books conveyed to the sacristy, a barrel-vaulted apartment near
the south transept, led down to by a flight of stone steps, which were
cunningly covered over by the flagging of the floor. This had been
designed expressly for the hiding of our valuables when a raid was
anticipated by the Scots or Danes.
Many of the Normans, I noticed, made at once for the church. No doubt
they fancied the richest booty would there be found. They rudely burst
open the doors, and I pressed in with them. At once the fierce and
undisciplined soldiery commenced to break and plunder everything. I
advanced towards the leader, Vigneau, and prostrated myself before him
to beg for mercy for the refugees. Alas! He furiously spurned me with
his heavy boot, and cried to his men, "Ho, men! here are a lot of scurvy
monks! Kill the rats in their hole!" Prompt to obey, the soldiers let
fly a volley of arrows amongst the helpless throng huddled about the
altar steps, and wounded many of them. Unhappily, Vigneau at that moment
espied the lovely Ethel crouching amongst them. "Stay, men!" he shouted.
"By Jupiter, here's the loveliest Saxon wench my eyes have seen. You may
take the gold and silver baubles and melt them into zechins. Here's my
share of the plunder!" Immediately he seized Ethel and dragged her from
the steps of the high altar. "Nay, nay, wench," said he, "never be so
shy! Thou wert intended for better company than simpering monks and
friars. Damnation!" he roared, suddenly releasing her, staggering back a
pace or two and staring aghast at her; for she had sprung at him and
driven with all her force at his chest a small dagger she held in her
hand. The dagger rattled upon his mailed chest, but left him scathless.
Still she stood confronting him, like a panther at bay.
"By Jove!" he roared, as soon as he had recovered from his astonishment.
"Here's mettle anyhow! I little thought there was so much spirit behind
that pretty face. All the better however, for milk and water is no good
even in a wench. Here goes for another embrace, my bantam!" So saying,
he seized her with his mailed hands, and wrested the dagger from her,
pitching it across the church. Then he literally tucked her under his
arm, all the while roaring with laughter at her frantic but ineffectual
efforts to release herself, and away he marched down the aisle of the
church. I seized his arm, and was imploring him to have pity, when he
called to a rough-looking soldier. "Here, fellow, run this shaveling
priest through with thy sword, quick!" I gave myself up for a dead man,
for I felt that I could not let him carry off Ethel, when suddenly there
was a hush of voices, and looking round I beheld a Norman lady, of
majestic port and bearing, pressing forward towards us, whilst close
behind her there followed a score of armed men. I perceived at once that
she was a lady of rank by her rich apparel and jewelled head-dress. She
was also of surpassing loveliness and commanding figure. As she beheld
the brutal Norman, I saw the fire flash in her rich dark eyes, as with
quick step she marched boldly up to him and accosted him in words almost
of fire. "I think this is another evidence, Baron, of your base and
unchivalrous regard for the distressed of my sex, by the brutal way in
which you are treating this helpless Saxon lady! You afford me ample
opportunities of testing your gallantry, and better opportunities, too,
than listening to your false and honeyed words, which you are pleased to
pour into my ears."
"These are but Saxon varlets, Alice; and Saxon varlets, whether male or
female, are not fitting objects of chivalry to a Norman knight."
"Chivalry is for the oppressed and weak of any nation. So be pleased to
release this lady, and cease harrying these holy and unresisting men."
"Take care what you are at, madame!" savagely hissed the Baron, between
his teeth, "or your meddlesome interference with business which does not
concern you will be at your peril. Mark that, _ma grande dame_!"
"Let go the arm of this lady, I say, and leave this sanctuary at once,
or I shall report your conduct to the Count forthwith."
"Tell the Count, madame, if he dare, to look in the wolf's mouth and
count his teeth, and he'll not do it twice, you may mark that!"
He let go of Ethel, however, and, muttering savagely many fierce oaths,
he strode out of the church, followed very reluctantly by his men.
"Jules Reynard," said the lady, addressing the leader of her men, "do
your best to protect this holy place, and the lives of these monks."
Jules Reynard acquiesced by a low obeisance. "Lady," she said,
addressing Ethel, "I grieve very much at the rude treatment and
mishandling you have been subjected to at the hands of these savage men.
If you like to accept my protection, I think I can protect you from
further annoyance and insult."
"I thank you, madame," said Ethel, "but this cannot be. Your people have
burnt my home, basely slaughtered my father and my brother, and I
prefer, whether living or dying, to company with my own people."
The Norman lady heaved a deep sigh. "Alas! I daresay it is but too true,
and I can well understand your feelings; but I will strive to be a
sister to you, if you will come with me."
"Say no more, lady; this cannot be."
"Well, then, we must part. But, mark me--though it is hard to say it of
one's people--look for no compassion at the hands of my people, and
beware especially of him from whom you have just escaped, for 'his
tender mercies are cruel.'"
"I look for no compassion at the hands of the Normans, nor will I seek
it or suffer it. The hands that are red with my kinsmen's blood, cannot
be grasped in amity by me. There is a deep and bloody barrier betwixt me
and thee, which a lifetime cannot erase," said Ethel bitterly.
"Alas! alas! Nevertheless, adieu, lady; we may meet again. If I can
befriend you in any way, how gladly will I do it, to the very utmost of
my power!" With that she hastily left the chapel--as I learnt
afterwards, to try and stay as much as possible the fierce bloodshed and
rapine of the soldiery. But it is needless to say her efforts were to
little purpose, for though she managed to have them cleared out of the
sanctuary, ere long they were back again, and, like greedy hawks, they
pounced upon everything, no matter how sacred the purpose to which
articles of value were devoted. They carried off the silver table of the
high altar, the silver cups, dalmatics, censers of silver; in fact,
everything ornamented with silver or gold. Speedily the whole of our
possessions were at their mercy, excepting the things I had secreted as
aforesaid. To complete this sad day's work, when nothing more of value
could be had, they turned their attention to our cellarer's store of
wines and ale, and the rest of the day, and the night also, was spent in
drunkenness and carousing. The whole of the night was spent by the monks
in prayer and fasting, whilst for the most part our refugees were glad
to escape to the woods, being thankful if only they could do so with
their lives. A sad day's work this for the sanctuary which had taken
generations to bring it to its high state of usefulness and piety!