EDGAR ATHELING.
"Oh how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours!"
Shakespeare.
Sigurd, after the rebuff he had received at the hands of Oswald, sped
him on his way to Scotland, aflame with a wrath which was about equally
divided between Oswald and the Normans. He was accompanied by some
half-dozen of his followers. And there, at the court of Malcolm of
Scotland, he laid before the Prince Atheling his scheme for the recovery
of the kingdom.
Now, Prince Edgar was a weak, voluptuous prince, who spent his days in
dissipation, and surrounded by foreign parasites; but he was universally
acknowledged to be the legitimate heir to the throne of England. Every
one who knew him intimately had little hope of his ever winning it by
force of arms, or of his worthily filling it, if it should ever be
wrested from the grasp of the astute William. The Conqueror well knew
the weakness of this princeling, and with consummate policy he kept him
well supplied with money, knowing that if he had the means to gratify
his vicious and effeminate disposition, he would not be easily moved to
undertake any dangerous or arduous enterprise.
But the Atheling, like all weak and vacillating natures, could be false
or fickle to his master William at very short notice. He was capable
also, in a vain and feeble sort of way, of grasping at the English
sceptre, for no better or nobler motive than the desire to gratify his
childish vanity, and to further indulge his voluptuous and sensual
habits.
There was nothing in common between the fierce and fiery descendant of
the Vikings, Sigurd, and this weathercock of princely descent. Sigurd
was as valorous and uncompromising as the Atheling was ease-loving and
cowardly. Still, it was quite easy for this enthusiast to infuse into
the Prince's mind most exaggerated ideas of the rally of the Saxons
under Oswald, and to lead him to believe that the prospect of regaining
the throne of England was easy of achievement. He also managed to fan
into a flame the petty jealousies of which the prince was capable, by
representing to him that Oswald was intent on asserting his own claims
to the kingdom.
It was a matter of profound surprise to us, and not a little
consternation also, when scarcely a month had elapsed from the date of
Sigurd's expulsion from the camp, to find that Saxon runners everywhere
throughout the kingdom were conveying the Prince's summons to all Saxon
leaders, outlaws, and ecclesiastics, together with a certain number of
freemen, and churls, who, according to Saxon laws, had the right to
attend these parliaments, or witans, of the nation. The witan was
summoned to meet in Lakesland, one of the wildest and most inaccessible
parts of Northumbria. Oswald and I were summoned, and a number of those
who owned Oswald's chieftainship.
We weighed carefully this matter, and we could not rid ourselves of the
apprehension that Sigurd somehow was at the bottom of it, seeing that
the _bodes_ who bare these summonses were followers of the Jarl.
Personally, I was much averse to the project, being unable to see what
good could come of it, in our present feeble and distracted state. But
Oswald considered it desirable that we should obey this summons as loyal
Saxons. Accordingly, a company of us, under the leadership of Oswald,
started for this rendezvous amid the Lakes. We were compelled to use the
utmost secrecy in our movements, and travel by night, as the Normans
were still thickly posted throughout the north. It would certainly have
been most dangerous to travel by day, even with so small a company as
ours. We were practically but two days march from the place of
rendezvous. So we started after nightfall on the first day, and, by
steadily pressing on, we covered one-half the distance, arriving ere it
was daylight at a place of refuge evidently well known to our leader,
but which came as a revelation to me, for we came upon a band of Saxons
near to an inlet of the sea, which ran into a thickly wooded headland.
Here were a company of hardy men, partly fisherman, and partly traders
and freebooters, who owned a vessel capable of carrying a considerable
cargo; which bare sometimes Saxon refugees to foreign lands, at other
times engaged in peaceful trading with distant ports, and had frequently
been employed by armed bands of Saxons for the purpose of making swift
descents upon their foes in various parts of the kingdom. From this
source I found that wines and breadstuffs, as well as munitions of war,
had systematically been supplied to the Saxon outlaws. I was told
voyages were frequently made, not only to Ireland and Scotland, but even
to ports on the Mediterranean sea.
Here we rested for the day, and at nightfall we went aboard this vessel;
and, the wind being favourable, in a couple of hours they ran us across
the bay of Morcam, landing us in sight of the Westmoreland hills, and
certainly saving us more than a twenty miles' trudge. We were now within
some eight miles of our destination, and still had the most of the night
before us. Our sailor friends were able to tell us, also, that there was
no encampment of Normans within many miles of our route; so we continued
our march for an hour or two at a steady pace, without the slightest
alarm or molestation. At last, our path lay through a narrow pass or
defile in the mountains, and we were rapidly drawing near to the
rendezvous. We now found it necessary to move with the utmost caution,
for the path was rugged and narrow, and there was an eeriness about the
place which was suggestive of anything uncanny. Huge boulders frequently
confronted us, looming up out of the darkness so suddenly as quite to
take my breath away. Oswald and I were a trifle ahead of the others, and
were discussing to ourselves as to what could be the purpose of the
Prince, in summoning at so unpropitious a time the Saxon witan.
"Does the Prince intend to take up arms, think you, my lord?" said I to
Oswald.
"I expect little from the Atheling, Father, of that sort of thing. He is
fickle, cowardly, and dissolute into the bargain. He dallied at the
court of Malcolm at our last effort at York, until the cause was lost;
and he sped him back again, and never stayed to strike a single blow. I
am afraid some hare-brained purpose moves him, or some petty ambition
which is unworthy of a prince, and which he will not back with any force
of character, or any persistence. He will simply provoke a revolt which
cannot be successful, whilst at the very first repulse he will vanish,
and leave his unhappy followers to the relentless extermination policy
of William."
"You have no faith in revolt, I think?"
"None whatever. It is absolutely hopeless. If we had but had a leader at
York, brave and skilful as our last King Harold, and one who could have
united us, the thing was half assured. But now Saxon graves hold
prisoner for ever the flower of our people; and to attempt to offer an
organised opposition to the Norman forces--why, it were sheer madness.
The only two points in the kingdom where any show of resistance is made,
is our own little colony, and in Lincolnshire, where Hereward still
precariously holds out."
"But does not the Prince know this, think you? Or is he incapable of
grasping the situation?"
"The Prince, I have already intimated, is not a factor worth considering
for a moment. I very strongly suspect that Sigurd is at the bottom of
this. He, I believe, has stirred the Prince up either to ambition or to
jealousy, and I should not wonder if I were arraigned as traitor as a
preliminary to some madcap exploit of Sigurd's. Do not be in the least
surprised if this gathering ends in dire mischief and disunion."
"What is that?" we both exclaimed in a breath, as we saw the figure of a
man dart from behind a huge boulder, and swiftly run along the pass
ahead of us.
"I like not that," said Oswald. "He has no friendly motive, I warrant;"
and he at once drew his sword, and called Wulfhere. "Your Grace had
better take second rank," said he to me. Then, halting a moment till the
company drew near, he addressed them.
"Men, have all your weapons ready."
Immediately every swordsman's blade gleamed in the darkness, and every
archer's bow was unslung, and an arrow affixed.
"Rear guard!" said he, in an undertone.
"Aye, aye!" responded two gruff voices, which I knew to be Badger's and
Bretwul's.
"Beware! and be ready; and keep close up. Now, men, let us move steadily
forward."
So we pressed slowly and steadily forward, Oswald and Wulfhere passing
no boulder or obstruction without first carefully peering behind it to
see if any foe ambushed there. Suddenly there was a halt, the sword of
Oswald was uplifted, and I could descry a muffled human figure standing
in the centre of the path.
"Who art thou?" said Oswald. "Speak, or I will cleave thee from head to
foot."
"Listen!" said the figure. "I am the shadow of a vanishing race. When
Saxon hates Saxon and is greedier than greedy hawk for Saxon's blood;
and when Saxon loves Norman habits, and makes friends of the hated
oppressor; what hope is there of a restoration of the old race! If the
Fates have decreed it, well--'tis enough. I only ask for a grave in some
lonely spot, where the groans of my people will not disturb my long
repose. But beware, Saxons! there are fierce enemies abroad--Saxon, too.
Beware! The would-be avenger has a sharp sword, and will not stay his
hand. So beware! the swoop of the eagle is swift and strong, and his
talons are sharp."
With that, the strange figure turned and fled along the pass with the
speed of a mountain roe.
"That is a strange visitant," I said. "The voice might be the voice of a
woman. I almost fancied I had heard it before."
"In any case, it is the voice of a friend. The warning is unmistakable;
the enemy to be dreaded is Saxon also," said Oswald.
I began to wish most devoutly that the night were past. My nerves were
quite unstrung, and the yelp of a fox, or wolf, in the vicinity, the
flap-flap, of the night-owl's wing, or the scurrying footsteps of the
rabbits, set me in a violent tremble. Oswald headed the party forward,
though I would most gladly have called a halt, and waited for the clay.
We quickly found that our troubles were not yet past, for not a quarter
of a mile had been traversed since our last visitant, when suddenly, and
without warning, we were beset behind and before by armed men, who
hurled themselves upon us with the fury of wild beasts. Oswald had only
time to raise his shield to save himself from the furious stroke of some
powerful enemy. Before I had time to realise it, friend and foe were
laying about them with the fury of madmen. No sooner did I grasp the
situation than immediately I rushed to the front, though it was at the
imminent peril of my life. Lifting up the sacred emblem of my office, I
cried,--
"Peace! In God's name, I charge peace!"
At the sight of the blessed cross the assailants recoiled a pace or two.
"Who are you?" I cried. "Saxon or Norman?"
"They are Saxon," said Oswald. "I know well who aimed the blows at my
life. 'Tis Sigurd, one professing to be of our nation."
"I am not of thy nation, dastardly renegade, dancing attendance upon
Norman wenches, and warring in silken hose."
"If I warred with as little sense and as little skill as thyself, I
should soon be as impotent as thou art, and have never a Saxon left me
to lead to battle."
"Sigurd," said I, in as authoritative tone as I could command, and still
holding up the emblem of peace and goodwill to men, "I charge you, in
God's name, that you call off your men, and cease this fratricidal
strife."
"What care I, monk," said he fiercely, "for thy God? He is the God of
cowards, and not of warriors."
But having breathed out this defiance, he gathered up a wounded comrade
who had felt the keenness of Wulfhere's sword, and, without uttering
another word, he headed his men for the hills.
"Now, my lord," said I, "what is to be done? This, I fear, is only a
precursor of trouble and discord at our witan. I would you were willing
even now to beat a retreat, nor take further risks to yourself and men,
in so bootless an errand.
"The Prince professedly has summoned me, and I would not draw back until
fully assured that mutual council is profitless," said Oswald.
"Let me go forward, my lord, and meet the Prince. I think my sacred
office will protect me. If I think good will come of this gathering, I
will communicate with you."
"No, Father; no man shall ever say I failed to respond to the call of my
Prince, despisable though I believe him to be. Nor will my duty to my
race and to my country permit me to stand aloof from this witan, for God
knows we have need both of council and of all the wisdom left to us.
But, nevertheless, I have no faith in this gathering. The Prince, I
doubt me, is an indolent sensualist, and, like all weak-minded men, most
easily provoked into jealousy. The ominous figure we have just met is
deeply involved in this scheme, I am now sure. A sturdy, valorous man,
and a foeman of direst sort, but utterly incapable of moderation. He
cherishes a mortal hatred of me, and I now know that I shall take my
life in my hand when I enter the council; but that is a risk which gives
me no uneasiness. So let us advance, for the light, I see, is breaking
over the tops of the mountains, and very soon we shall have the day."
So, nerving ourselves for any contingency, we continued our march. This
had now become much pleasanter, and infinitely easier, in consequence of
the approach of day.
By-and-by we drew aside into a sheltered dell, in order to partake of
our morning meal, which we despatched as hastily as possible, in order
that we might reach the rendezvous early. We had not journeyed far,
however, before we were accosted by a man, who emerged from behind a
heap of stones at the head of the pass, and surveyed us narrowly.
"Saxons?" said he.
"Aye, Saxons all," we replied.
"What say ye?"
"Down with the Normans!" we replied.
"Right," said he. "Down with the Normans!" Then he gave us sundry
directions as to the nearest route to the place of meeting. We found
this route to be again somewhat difficult; for such a stern, wild
country it is difficult to imagine, much more to describe. We again
entered a narrow defile between two frowning and rugged hills, and in a
little while this defile opened out into a magnificent,
amphitheatre-like vale, enclosed with lofty peaks and rugged hills on
every hand, whilst below us there lay a magnificent sheet of water in
the centre of the valley, with thick woods running around it; the bald
and boulder-strewn hills towering high above all, most imposing in their
rugged grandeur and might. Underneath them, the valley was most
bewitching in the loveliness of its umbrageous woods. As outlets to this
beautiful valley, there were but the pass we had descended, and another
narrow defile at the foot of the lake, where the water made its exit.
Involuntarily we came to halt. Indeed, the prospect before us was at
once so wild, and yet so charming, that we could not but stand and gaze,
enchanted with the scene.
"Now, Father," said Oswald, "what think you of Lakesland?"
"Well," said I, "lovely as our beloved Craven is, it pales before this
magnificent country."
"Yes; and the strength of it! Had Sigurd but a tithe of moderation and
self-restraint, there are no Norman forces in this Northumberland that
could drive him out."
Well, we resumed our march by rounding the head of the lake by a
difficult and tangled forest path. This done, we continued our journey
down the opposite side of the valley and along the side of the lake,
until eventually we were taken in hand by one of a group of men,
evidently set for the purpose, and by him we were conducted to a
yeoman's dwelling, embowered in trees of massive girth on all sides. The
habitation was similar to the rough but substantial dwellings we were
all familiar with. There were some considerable outbuildings and an
enclosure carefully fenced round by a lofty wall, and evidently intended
for the protection of the sheep and cattle at night, during the winter
months; for the wolves were wont to pack, sometimes in considerable
numbers, and become very daring and vicious, when the pinch of hunger
was upon them.
As soon as we entered this enclosure, we found there was assembled
already a goodly company of men of various grades, all of them armed to
the teeth. Many of them were evidently Saxons who had held considerable
positions in the land prior to the coming of the Normans, though now
evidently much broken. The scared and suspicious looks with which they
scrutinised every new-comer, told plainly that they were much used to
treachery, and familiar with double-dealing. There were also numbers who
were clearly men of war. The look of defiance on their countenances, and
the well-stocked quivers over their shoulders, told plainly they were
chiefs of the bold outlaws who lived by the might of their trusty
swords, and their long bows. No one could misunderstand their fierce and
daring attitude.
There were some also who, by their armour, had evidently learned
something of the methods of war pursued by the Normans. Indeed, as we
have said, before the coming of William, large numbers of the Normans
had thronged the court of the pious Edward, and Saxon noblemen in goodly
numbers had practised the joust at tournaments, adopting Norman weapons,
affecting a budding errantry, and talking Norman French. There was here
also a goodly number of the humbler ranks; for, according to old Saxon
law, not only freemen, but even villeins and churls had the right of
representatives at the witanagemot, or council. Oswald immediately
joined himself to a company of these men of knightly appearance, many of
whom he knew, having fought side by side with them at York.
Sigurd I quickly espied, standing with another group of the old stock,
rude, unlettered, and primitive in habit and dress. I could easily see,
without seeming to notice or observe them narrowly, that these men
viewed with no favourable eye what they were wont to call the pranking
of Norman manners and dress on the part of Oswald and the others I have
spoken of. It was plainly to be seen, also, that Sigurd had done
something to inflame their minds against Oswald, for they eyed him
savagely and suspiciously.
I proceeded, however, at once to the house place, to make my obedience
to Prince Edgar, who, with certain of his personal friends, awaited the
assembling of the members of the witan. The Prince was dressed in a rich
velvet dress, with elaborate fringing of silk, and for a head-dress the
hat and feather worn by Norman courtiers. He was also accompanied by a
Norman favourite, a most truculent parasite, of a vain and dissipated
appearance, and, as I thought, a very unsuitable companion for a prince
who preferred claims to the Saxon throne.
Elaborate arrangements had evidently been made for display, and for the
comfort and luxury of the Prince. He was accompanied by his cook, his
valet, and several serving-men; whilst he had, with infinite trouble to
the servants, brought with him wines, and delicacies, and dainties,
which were to me no good augury, and which, do as I would, I could not
but despise in one who made pretence of so desperate an enterprise as
the overthrow of the Norman rule in England. For, view it as we might, a
most desperate enterprise it most surely was.
At the appointed hour for the council to begin, a chair was brought out
of doors, and placed in such a position that its occupant could command
a view of the whole company. Over this chair a richly-embroidered cover
was thrown, and the Prince immediately took possession of it; whilst the
Norman favourite came behind, and ostentatiously placed a crown upon his
head. This burlesque of royalty was expected to produce a shout of loyal
enthusiasm from the assembled company; but, with the exception of his
own followers, not a whisper of applause greeted it, though the marks of
derision on the countenances of many of the Saxons were open and
undisguised.
Now, as the senior ecclesiastic present, it became my lot to read what
the Prince was pleased to call the "Royal Proclamation," calling this
meeting of the witan, which being done, the Prince next addressed the
company. In pompous and affected tones he said,--
"Reverend fathers, valiant knights and liegemen, I have called together
my faithful witan to consider the state of our unhappy country, and what
may best be done for the recovery of my rights as the lawful King of
England. To this end I seek your advice; and not only so, but I further
lay my commands upon you, as my faithful subjects, liegemen, and
vassals, to help me in this enterprise. To this end I would further
insist that it is necessary that you should lay aside all purposes of
individual self-assertion, and join yourselves and your forces to the
general movement. Now, whilst speaking on this head, I may say, with
shame and regret, it has been reported to me that sundry knights, of
whom I expected better things, are not true to our cause, but are acting
without regard to the claims of myself as the lawful King of England,
and are setting up a separate authority; warring according to methods
not sanctioned by me or my faithful witan. I hear there are those who
are willing to forfeit their allegiance to me, and, for their own
personal ends, going even so far as to seek a servile alliance with our
foes, to the betrayal of the Saxon cause. Now let it be known to you
that I claim the undivided allegiance of all Saxons, and that I purpose
with rigour to punish all traitors to my cause and to my kingdom. I have
been too long slighted and set at naught by my lieges and vassals, and I
would know what of it? There are loyal men and true in your ranks, I
know, who despise and hate such factious conduct as much as I do myself;
and I call upon all who can bear testimony to this flagrant disloyalty
on the part of certain of my subjects, to stand forth and declare it at
this council, for I purpose with utmost rigour to punish all factionists
and traitors who are cringingly seeking alliances with the Norman foe."
At this invitation Sigurd stepped from the ranks, and said,--
"Puissant Prince, if it be your will, I have a charge to make against
Oswald the Ealdorman, son of Ulfson, who is now present. As he well
knows, I have made this charge to his face, that he has built a fortress
for himself and all such churls and freemen as are willing to
acknowledge his chieftainship. I charge him also with speaking
slightingly of your Highness's valour, and your ability to regain your
rightful throne. I charge him also with endeavouring to enter into
cowardly alliance with the Norman foe--promising, if certain meagre
concessions be made to him, he will withhold his followers from
rebellion, and all endeavours to resist the Normans. I charge him with
attempting to gain a dishonourable alliance with the house of De
Montfort. Which several charges I have attempted to make good at the
sword's point. And I call upon him now to answer for it with his life,
as all traitors and trucemakers should."
"If Oswald the Ealdorman be present, I call upon him to make such answer
as best he can against the charges preferred by our valiant and trusty
knight, Sigurd the Saxon Dane, who, by his fealty to us and his zeal for
the Saxon cause, has won our hearty trust and confidence."
At this summons Oswald stepped forth a pace or two, and, removing his
helmet and visor, said, in firm and unfaltering tones,--
"Sire, may I be bold enough to ask if this is the purpose for which
valiant knights and lieges have been summoned from far and near?"
"Silence, dog! and answer the charges made against thee! Then we shall
consider the weightier matters appertaining to our realm. But we will
have an answer to these charges."
"The charges, sire, made against me by the Jarl, are the creation of his
own heated brain; and the reason he has brought them hither is because
he failed ignobly to make them good with his weapons. I decline
altogether to wrangle out with him this petty personal quarrel in
presence of this assembly. If we are to consider matters of greater
moment, matters which concern our country and the present desperate
state of the Saxon cause, then I am prepared to offer my poor services,
either in this council or in face of our common foe."
"Well said, Sir Knight!" cried a gruff voice, which belonged to the
leader of a party of knights who had entered the enclosure during the
foregoing dialogue, and whose seedy and travel-stained garments, and
rusty arms and accoutrements, bore ample token of much exposure and much
rough usage.
"Sirrah!" shouted the Prince, waxing wroth at the bold front and
fearless language of Oswald, "dost thou presume to answer thy King after
this fashion? By my halidame, if this continues there will be never a
scurvy clown in my kingdom who will not think he may beard his Prince
with impunity. But I will know whither all this is tending. I have long
had my eye upon that boorish and untamed son of Earl Leofric, whom men
call Hereward, who is carrying on warfare in the Fen country--palpably
for his own ends and his own glory, for he never so much as acknowledges
my sovereignty or sends his dutiful submission to me. Now thou dost
presume to imitate the conduct of the braggart Hereward, and must needs
collect an army for thy own personal advantage, and not for the glory of
thy Prince. Men of my faithful witan, I call upon you to note this, for
I have determined I will rid the Saxon cause of all such disloyal
traitors."
"'Tis pity, sire," said Oswald, in tones in which anger and contempt
were mingled, "that you never thought it worth your while to collect an
army for yourself, or at least to place yourself at the head of one
collected for you. We would fain see what kind of stuff our Prince is
made of. Will you tell this witan, Prince, where you were when so many
good lives were lost at York in your cause?"
"Well spoken, sir!" shouted the gruff voice, with even more emphasis
than before.
"Dost thou call in question my valour, villain!" roared the Prince. "By
our Lady, I'll have no more of thy effrontery, dog! Disarm him, loyal
knights!"
Immediately half a dozen of the Saxon leaders sprang forward at the
bidding of the Prince; but they quailed before Oswald as they saw the
broadsword whipped from its scabbard, and perform a swift circle in the
air.
"Here's to thee, with all my heart, Sir Knight! I like thy metal!" said
the stranger knight, as he sprang to Oswald's side, brandishing a huge
sword; whilst his followers quickly ranged themselves on the same side,
ready for the fray.
"Treason! treason!" almost screamed the Prince, in abject terror,
starting from his seat and preparing to beat a retreat.
I gently laid my hand on his shoulder, and said, "Have patience, sire.
These men mean no harm, only they are not wont to receive such harsh
rebukes."
This seemed to reassure him, for, addressing the unknown knight, he
said,--
"Who art thou who thus boldly takes sides with this traitor to my
cause?"
The stranger made no answer, but slowly removed his headgear.
Immediately a score of voices shouted, "The Wake! the Wake! 'Tis
Hereward!"
"Yes," said Hereward. "I am the Wake, whom thou hast been cowardly
charging with treason. Hark! Dost thou think Hereward is going to peril
life and limb, or waste precious lives, to set such a dolt on the throne
of England as thou hast proved thyself this day; and on the former
occasion, when we met at York, for instance? Marry, no! A niddering who
flies for his life at the first approach of danger is not fit to wield a
sceptre in these lands. A Prince who fosters faction, and is pettishly
jealous of braver men than himself, had better turn monk; a _shaven_
crown would better become thee than the Crown of England."
"By the blessed Virgin, I vow I will humble thy pride, dog, ere I have
done with thee! I will not be bullied in my own witan, though thou be a
son of Earl Leofric!"
"Ah, well," said Hereward, with a sneer, "thou art of the wrong metal
thyself, but if thou hast a knight brave enough to cross a sword on thy
behalf, let him stand forth, and I will oblige him with a bout; 'twould
be a little diversion in this fool's errand of ours."
"I will champion the Prince, braggart; with a curse on thee for thy
base-hearted treachery to thy wife Torfrida!" shouted the brave and
choleric Sigurd, rushing forward and brandishing his sword in the face
of Hereward.
Instantly there was such a clamour of voices, clash of swords, and dire
confusion, in the arena, that I was terrified at this tumult of fierce
and angry passions. Oswald and I rushed in between these fierce
combatants and called aloud for peace, which with the utmost difficulty
we obtained. Seeing the strange state of frenzy in which most present
were, I urgently requested that all further discussion should cease for
the day.