NOBILITY IN CONTRAST.
"Shall show us how divine a thing
A woman may be made."
Wordsworth.
After the stirring episode which ended in the removal from the scene of
the brothers Vigneau, and their henchman Pierre, the relationship
between the outlawed Saxons and the Normans,--as it related to the
domains owned by De Montfort and those contiguous,--became much more
amicable and peaceful. The Saxon colony on the mountains boldly advanced
to the valley, and took up without molestation the tilling of the soil.
The sturdy outlaws whose home had been the greenwood, and their
sustenance the chase and plunder, now many of them returned to the
peaceful calling they had pursued before the Normans drave them from
their homes, and the plots of ground they lived upon. Intercourse
between the races became regular and uninterrupted; intermarrying being
of frequent occurrence. The Norman lost in great measure his haughty and
overbearing manner, and the Saxon hatred of the Norman accordingly
abated. The language also began to be a compound of Saxon and Norman,
for each nation was driven by the exigencies of combined intercourse to
learn a little of the other's language; and before my eyes daily did I
witness the interblending of peoples. This was a joy to me, to Oswald,
and to Alice; and indeed no one who thoroughly grasped the situation
could ever again look for the overthrow of the Normans; and whilst there
were wild, untamed, and irreconcilable Saxons, who fomented strife and
rebellion, and on the other hand Normans proud, overbearing and cruel,
yet there were to me palpable signs that the two races would eventually
become one people, to their mutual advantage.
Happy am I also to relate that, through the interposition of Alice, and
the kindness and confidence of De Montfort, I was once more restored to
the rule of this monastery, and with its privileges and emoluments but
little curtailed. Thus was I able to do much towards the reconciling of
these two peoples. Thankful also I am to relate that, amid the multitude
of claims upon me, I yet had strength and leisure sufficient to write
these chronicles.
The kind reader I hope will pardon me this digression, and the little
egotism I have indulged in, and I will proceed once more with this
history.
De Montfort made no attempt to ignore the deep obligations that Oswald
had laid him under; nor did he attempt to interfere with the plighted
troth of these two lovers. Still many misgivings arose in his mind, with
regard to the attitude his sovereign would assume towards this union. He
knew well that if William disapproved of it, his will would have to be
law. He debated long with himself the question, whether it would be best
to first obtain William's consent to the marriage, or boldly solve the
difficulty by uniting the pair and then presenting them to the king. The
bolder course was finally adopted, and the day of the nuptials fixed. By
the unanimous wish of all concerned, it was determined that the marriage
should be celebrated without pomp and wholesale merriment, as was so
often the case; but that there should be the rustic games and rural
sports so dear to the common people.
So accordingly on the eventful morning the bridal party wended their way
through the forest to this sanctuary, which we had decorated for the
occasion. As the party passed through the forest with light hearts and
joyous, there were others to whom these nuptials had most tragic
results. Secreted in the thicket and watching the party go by was one,
to whom every note of the joyous bells rang out a knell. Secreted also
in another part was one to whom this nuptial act was infamous, and
basest treachery; and like a wild beast he waited for an opportunity to
spring upon the pair, and with one more wild deed of revenge to
accentuate his undying hatred towards the Norman usurper. Soon after the
party passed on their way and came near to the Abbey gates, Ethel,
muffled and disguised as a peasant woman, stepped from the thicket from
which she had watched the party go by, and slowly followed them. But she
had not proceeded very far, ere some movement in the thicket attracted
her attention, and turning more attentively to observe, she espied
Sigurd's stealthy figure gliding amongst the trees with his naked sword
in his hand, and evidently dogging the footsteps of the bridal party. A
few fleet footsteps brought her abreast of him.
"My lord!" she said, addressing him, "what does this mean?"
"Ethel, is that you? I little thought to see you here," said he,
ignoring altogether the question addressed to him.
"I am here, and opportunely my lord, too, if your attitude does not
deceive me. What means that naked sword when there are no enemies
present?"
"Do you not know," he said in low fierce tones, "what deed is to be done
to-day? Oswald completes his infamy by wedding this Norman woman, and I
will kill him before this day is done, or henceforth ye shall brand me a
coward."
"My lord," said Ethel placing herself before him, "what madness is this
that you purpose? Put up that sword, and mark me well! if any evil
befall him, and if you dare to injure him or his bride, either now or
henceforth, you make of me a mortal enemy, and I will not rest until
your crime be punished."
"Ethel, 'tis ye are mad! or else your love at sight of this would be
turned to mortal hatred! Would I had not met you this day, then would I
have wiped out this stain from the Saxon race."
The power wielded by this beautiful Saxon woman over this untamed
warrior was unbounded, and bore eloquent testimony to the depth and
purity of his love for her; for without another word of remonstrance he
sheathed his sword, and strode away into the depths of the forest.
Then Ethel pursued her journey, following the bridal party into the
chapel, and sitting down, quite unnoticed, amid a motley throng of
peasant women and Saxon churls, who had gathered to witness the
nuptials. The marriage ceremony was designed to be carried out with
great privacy, nevertheless there were a few Normans of note gathered
there to witness it. There were also some Saxons, who had claim to
honoured names and substantial estates, were it not for the greed of
these usurpers; but most of these were now at best but fief-holders of
their conquerors, and with cowed and brow-beaten looks, they were
content to herd with their still more degraded countrymen.
It was manifest to any careful observer also that, amid the few Normans
gathered, there was great disapprobation of the rite about to be
celebrated; and as the tall muscular Saxon, who had maintained his
independence and defied them all, advanced to the altar, they could not
forget that the glamour of this man's name had given heart to the
Saxons, and that, on innumerable occasions, he had vigorously interposed
himself between these tyrants and the objects of their tyranny. To see
him now standing side by side with one of the noblest, and one of the
most beautiful of their race, was to them bitter as gall. And I could
hear distinctly ominous muttering, and the handling of weapons. This, I
must confess, was what I had dreaded, and others also, I found, had
foreseen it; for at that moment Wulfhere and a sturdy band of Saxons,
armed to the teeth, entered the chapel, and boldly took their stand near
to the bridal party. At this the exasperation of the Normans was
increased, but nevertheless they were distinctly overawed by it, and no
further demonstrations of disapproval were made.
Ere the marriage ceremony was completed, and as the monks chaunted the
Benedicite, Ethel glided noiselessly from her place in the chapel, and
hurried from the grounds. As soon as she was clear of them she turned
into an unfrequented path, which led to the heart of the forest. Sigurd
had been secreted near, watching for her return, and immediately she was
obscured from the gaze of others he joined her.
"Has this Saxon traitor completed his dishonour, by wedding a daughter
of the Norman tyrant?" said he.
"Oswald has wedded the fair Norman, and I bestow my blessing on them,
for 'tis the herald of peace to our downtrodden race, and an augury of
the coming union of our people and the Norman."
"My curses on him and the coward brood of Saxons, who have betrayed
their country and, by their submission to the tyrant usurper, have
helped to rivet the fetters of bondage upon our race for generations to
come!"
"My lord, this is most distasteful to me. I will hear no more of it. You
are utterly incapable of understanding them or their motives, it is
plain; so desist, once for all, from your unreasoning hatred."
"Whither go ye now, Ethel? and may I go with ye?" said Sigurd humbly.
"I am bound for the Monastery of Crowland, my lord."
"_Monastery of Crowland! Never say it, girl!_ What do ye mean? Ye cannot
go _there_, Ethel! _Say ye will not go there, Ethel!_" he shrieked, in
agonised tones.
"It is quite true, my lord," said Ethel firmly.
"It cannot be, Ethel! Ye' cannot leave us thus! We are undone if ye
leave us! Say ye will not go to Crowland! _anywhere but there!_ I
thought ye would now forget my fierce and boorish habits, and be my
wife. Oswald is wedded, and ye cannot be his. What hinders ye from being
my wife? I will be anything ye ask of me, Ethel! I am quite broken now;
my spirit is broken. I will make my peace with the Normans, and wear a
serf's collar, and let them _whip me, cuff me--anything_! only say ye
will not leave me," he pleaded piteously.
"Alas! my lord, that can never be! My love is dead, and will never more
have resurrection in this world. I have no capacity for a new affection.
A maiden's heart can be won but once. Do not importune me, my lord,
further. The end has come; 'tis a new epoch, and in it there is no place
for you and me, and 'tis best we should quietly vanish from the scene."
"Is there no _hope_, Ethel, that ye will be my bride? Ye'll maybe change
some day. I can wait twenty years, if ye bid me."
"There is no hope, my lord. There can be but one other change for me,
and that will be when I don the cerements of the tomb."
"_No hope, Ethel? No hope?_" he slowly and painfully ejaculated, as
though each word was a dagger thrust at his heart. "Then I am lost!"
Slowly he drew himself up, expanded his broad chest, and threw abroad
his brawny arms, as though about to grapple with an enemy.
"Then," said he, "I'll have a sweet revenge on the Norman foe. I'll give
my blood again to the soil I love so well, and get me a warrior's grave.
Then, welcome Valhalla! Odin! Odin! Norseman's god!" he cried; "I am
coming soon to join the hero spirits, awaiting me in the land beyond the
dark and troubled sea."
His head drooped upon his chest, and he covered his face with his hands,
whilst his whole frame quivered with emotion. It was the cry of a blind
faith, but it was the cry of the soul, and it grappled him to the loving
heart of infinite mercy.
Ethel trembled violently at the bitterness of soul displayed by this
noble Viking, and the unbidden tears coursed down her cheeks in sympathy
with his sorrow.
"Adieu, my lord! May God have mercy upon you," she said in broken and
tender accents.
"Nay, Ethel! I'll go with you, I would like to see the door close upon
you safe, if it must be. 'Tis not fitting ye should take this journey
alone. These Norman dogs are abroad everywhere, and 'tis full of peril
for ye to journey alone; they will not respect ye as I do. These Normans
have no respect for such as you."
"I am sorry to say I cannot permit this, my lord. It would be both at
your peril and my own. Do you not know what a heavy price these Normans
have put upon your head?"
"Ah! they have made me a wolfshead truly, but they have not done with me
yet, Ethel; not done with me, they will find! Broken in spirit, as I am,
I do not fear them; nor do I care what price they have put upon my head.
I have nothing to live for, but I will _die like a Viking_. If it will
be a peril to you if I go with you, well, let it be so; but 'tis bitter
parting, Ethel."
"Do not fear on my account, my lord. The Abbot Adhelm has made
arrangement for two of the monks to bear me company; and their sacred
office and my vow will protect both them and myself from the violence of
the Normans."
"Shall I never see ye more, Ethel? _Never more?_ Won't ye come
_sometimes_ just to have a look at the _old hills_ again? and I'll meet
ye, and we'll see how the world fares with you and me. Promise me ye'll
come sometimes, Ethel, and let me look upon your sweet face. I've nought
to live for but you!"
Ethel was deeply moved at Sigurd's importunity, but she said,--
"My lord, I cannot hope to meet you any more on earth; but I will
venture to hope and pray that, when our God, who is a God infinite in
mercy and compassion, shall strike the balance betwixt right and wrong,
between high ideals and a grovelling ambition--in short, when He shall
'judge the world in righteousness,' He will find that the recording
angel has made many an entry to your account, and blurred out many a
fault with his tears; and that after all it will be found that your
erring but sturdy virtues outweigh by far your many faults, and the
limitations of your life. Then we shall meet again beyond the grave,
where we shall see eye to eye, and 'where the wicked cease from
troubling and the weary are at rest.' Once more adieu, my lord!" So
saying, she sped on her way.
Sigurd stood silently watching her retreating form until she disappeared
from view, and for several minutes he still stood gazing after her like
one bereft, whilst his massive frame was shaken with powerful emotions.
Then slowly he muttered to himself: "The sun is set upon all my hopes;
my day is done, and all is lost, save love of country and revenge. I
cannot, like this Oswald, bend and crouch. A Viking once a Viking for
ever." Then, turning round, he crashed into the forest.