CHAPTER IX.

NORWICH.

After the bride-ale the splendid company parted, mainly in three great

divisions: Earl Waltheof and his following to the north; Earl Roger to

the west; Earl Ralph with his bride, his Norman knights, and Breton

vassals and mercenaries, his Anglo-Saxon vassals and sympathisers, to

the east; a few minor parties of independent barons, knights, and

thegns going their several ways.

The Earl of Norfolk and Suffolk and his train rode forth along the old

Roman Ikenield Street, which ran then an uninterrupted course from

within a few miles of Exning to Norwich.

De Guader rode beside his young countess on a gentle _hacquenee_, which

paced quietly beside her palfrey, and did not break in upon their

converse by any pranks of his own, his squire leading the fiery Oliver,

and an attendant following with a mule carrying his armour, lance, and

spear.

It may well be supposed that the noble bridegroom spared no pains to

make the time pass pleasantly for his young countess, which, under the

circumstances, was no difficult task, for the mid-May weather was

delightful, and whether they rode over heaths or through the forests,

which then spread over the greater part of the country, they were

surrounded with flowers and the song of birds. The yellow gorse was

gorgeous in the open, filling the air with its almond scent, and the

whin-chats fluttered from bush to bush, trying to lure them away from

the spot that hid their nests. Overhead the larks carolled and the

sparrow-hawks poised motionless, while round and about them darted the

busy swallows.

Where they passed a homestead, fruit-trees were gay with blossom, apple

and cherry and pear, and the sweet-breathed kine were standing in the

meadows, knee-deep in the flower-jewelled grasses, for was it not

_Tri-milki_, the month when cows are milked thrice in the day,

according to the quaint old Anglo-Saxon calendar? Now and again they

met a shepherd with a flock of ewes and lambs, or, more often, the

inevitable Saxon swineherd with his grunting pigs.

But alas! they passed more often the blackened ruins where a homestead

had once been, for the curse of war had desolated the land. Over the

thatchless rafters hung the white branches of the flowering May, the

more like snow, because no girlish fingers had stripped them to deck

Maypoles.

They journeyed also through many a mile of forest land, where the great

trees interlaced their boughs into the beautiful arches which the

Gothic architect imitated so well in stone, and the wild birds thronged

in undisturbed security, countless in kind and number, and the antlered

stags trotted nimbly down the glades.

The greenwood in those days, however, had its dangers as well as its

delights. Wolves and boars and wild cattle shared its shelter with the

feathered songsters; and more formidable still were the indomitable

Saxons, who had sought refuge in the wilderness, and made war without

mercy on such of the conquering race as trespassed on their domain.

Many a Saxon thegn, who had lost house and land in the great struggle

against the Norman invader, had retired into the woods, and there lived

the life of a freebooter, some taking with them not only their

families, but their vassals and retainers. To be an outlaw was

accounted an honour by these men, who would not acknowledge the right

of the law-makers to command. They swarmed even under the walls of the

Norman castles, and harassed the conquerors continually. Retaliation

was sanguinary, and the unarmed peasants were punished under pretext

that they harboured the outlaws. In return, the kings of the forest

attacked the English households who favoured the Normans, and every

house was fortified to resist a siege, and stores of arms and food were

laid in; at night the head of the family read aloud the form of prayer

then used at sea in a storm, praying 'The Lord bless and help us,' to

which all present answered 'Amen.'

But the strong and well-armed retinue that accompanied the Earl of East

Anglia's party assured safety, and the most timid amongst the ladies

could fear no harm while surrounded by so many gallant knights in all

the pride and panoply of glorious war! They made a goodly sight as they

moved along, the sunshine flashing on their mail hauberks and

high-peaked steel saddles, and the wind fluttering the gonfalons on

their lances, their well-appointed horses snorting and curvetting, a

strong body of men-at-arms, bowmen, and slingers following afoot.

Doubtless many a Saxon serf and bordar cursed them as they passed, not

knowing that the powerful earl who led them had avowed himself champion

of the Saxon cause, and meant once more to raise the standard of

revolt.

Doubtless many a stout forester peered at them from behind the shelter

of green leaves, and raged with impotent anger at their strength.

Perhaps others greeted them with courtesy and proffers of friendship

and offerings of game, for the outlaws contrived to be wonderfully well

informed of the march of events, and De Guader was keenly alive to the

desirability of making all possible allies amongst the scattered

English, and did not neglect the brave spirits who had taken to the

wilds rather than submit, and who wielded so strong a weapon in

possessing the love of the common people.

However that might have been, they journeyed safely through wood and

wold, going slowly to suit the comfort of the ladies, and the capacity

of the sumpter mules, and revelling in the bright spring weather.

Amongst the knights who pressed round them Eadgyth looked in vain for

the figure of Sir Aimand de Sourdeval. Emma, happy with her bridegroom,

took no notice of his absence, till, on the second day of their

journey, the earl having left her side to give some necessary orders to

his train, she saw that Eadgyth was sad and silent, and remembered that

the hero of the tourney had not appeared in the ranks of their escort.

She surmised that it was likely he had purposely avoided companionship

which could only lead to pain, and had contrived to fulfil some other

duty; so, when the earl rode up to her side again, she put some light

question to him regarding the knight, and was surprised to see his face

grow dark as thunder. He answered briefly, however, that Sir Aimand was

detained on business of weight, and Emma, rather perplexed, did not

venture to question him further. At the moment the jester Grillonne

ambled up, mounted on a piebald nag with a chuckle-head and goose-rump,

and cut capers which made both earl and countess laugh, so that the

poor Knight of Sourdeval was banished from Emma's thoughts.

On the evening of the fourth day they came in sight of the churches and

trees of Norwich, with the newly-built Castle Blauncheflour rising in

stately strength above them (for no cathedral spire dwarfed it then),

the brilliant beams of the setting sun gilding its snowy towers, and

lighting the square mass of the lofty keep, which still, after eight

hundred years of war and weather, stands firm and solid on its throne

above the city.[2]

[2] See Appendix, Note B.

Emma exclaimed in delight when she first came in sight of this goodly

castle, which brought home to her pleasantly the power and wealth of

her noble husband.

'A garrison of five hundred might hold it for ever!' cried Ralph

enthusiastically, 'if only manna would fall from the skies to feed

them, or that they might be fed by a San Graal. That reminds me, sweet,

thou wilt like to hear my minstrel tell the story of Blauncheflour, who

was the betrothed of Percivale, the searcher for the Graal. The fair

white walls, faced with goodly Caen stone, seemed to me in their

invincible dignity to resemble a pure maiden, so I named them after

her.'

Norwich in those days was surrounded by broad and deep streams, at

least five times as wide as its present modest rivers, and the

chroniclers of Edward the Confessor's day record that the fisher-folk

suffered terribly through the receding of the waters. A sandbank some

distance out at sea was just emerging where Yarmouth now stands, and

sea-going vessels could make their way past the walls of Blauncheflour.

The level of the water was many feet above its present mark, and the

castle was surrounded, and rendered very strong, by deep ditches of

early British construction, on a similar scheme to those traced at

Rising, Castleacre, and many other places, where Norman architects had

availed themselves of the earthworks constructed by earlier peoples.

The castle was surrounded by the circular moat which still exists,

while a large horseshoe fosse extended to the south, covering the great

gate of the castle, which was at the foot of the existing bridge, which

is of Saxon construction, and measures forty feet in the span, being

the largest remaining arch raised by that people.

The great gate was a strong and imposing structure, and had four

towers, two at the base and two at the top of the bridge, and was the

only entrance to the upper ballium, which was guarded by eleven strong

towers, and contained various halls and lodgings, beside the great

keep, which is all that remains to us.

The fortress might well look imposing, with its moats and earthworks,

strengthened by strong palisadings of wood, its formidable walls and

gate-houses dominated by the great square tower, with many a pennon

waving from the topmost points, and warders marching to and fro on the

battlements, their glittering mail shining in the sun.

Norwich was not a city then, the see of the Bishop of East Anglia being

at Elmham, but there was a monastic church called Christ's Church where

the present cathedral stands, and the bishop had a palace on the site

of the well-known Maid's Head Inn of the present, the walls of which

were lapped by the river.

Herfast, who held the see from 1070 to 1076, had been chaplain to

William the Conqueror when he was Duke of Normandy. It may be that he

somewhat favoured Ralph de Guader, or chose to be blind to the doings

of the turbulent earl, for, though Norman of the Normans, he bitterly

hated Lanfranc, who had once exposed his ignorance to pitiless scorn,

and who unsparingly denounced his vices, bidding him 'to give over

dice-playing, not to speak of graver misconduct, in which you are said

to waste the whole day;' and bade him 'study theology and the decrees

of the Roman Pontiffs, and to give especial attention to the sacred

canons.' Also to 'dismiss certain monks of evil reputation.' At all

events, he does not appear to have been an active opponent to the East

Anglian earl, and it may be that he was not sorry that the archbishop

he so much disliked should have a little trouble during his time of

temporal power.

In the Domesday survey, made eleven years later, 1086, fifty-four

churches are recorded, and 1565 burgesses and 480 bordars were among

the inhabitants. The town was probably larger in 1075, as it suffered

much during the subsequent siege, and many an entry of '_Wasta_,'

'_wasta_,' '_wasta_,' bears testimony to the sorrow Ralph de Guader

brought upon the place.

Where the busy market-place is now, spread broad meadows for the castle

use, called the Magna Crofta or castle fee, and through them ran a

stream, having its rise on All Saints' Green, and flowing across the

present site of Davey Place to the river. The quiet Quaker burial

ground occupies the Jousting Acre, or Gilden Croft, where many a noble

knight gave or received a broken head in sheer good fellowship and

amiable love of fighting; and many a fair lady encouraged the giver

with smiles, or wept for the receiver. So the lovers of peace sleep

calmly under the sod that once was trampled by the eager steeds of the

men-at-arms.

Such was the Norwich to which Ralph de Guader brought home his bride;

and, as they entered it, the knights in their retinue pricked their

jaded steeds and stirred their mettle, that they might prance

sufficiently gaily. The trumpeters flourished their trumpets, to give

notice to the good people that their earl and his bride were

approaching, and, though travel-stained and weary, the cavalcade made a

brave appearance.

Rich and poor, Normans, Saxons, Danes, Flemings, and Jews, all of which

nations were represented in the town,--the last-named having made their

first appearance therein at the heels of the Norman invaders, and being

hated accordingly,--crowded into the streets to welcome and admire the

bride and bridegroom, or, at the least, to render that homage which

circumstances rendered politic.

For it must be remembered that the dignity of the powerful Earl of East

Anglia was almost royal. The feudal king was 'first among peers,' and

the earls came next to him; even so late as the reign of Queen

Elizabeth the parliamentary formula of royal speeches was, 'My right

loving Lords, and you, my right faithful and obedient subjects.'

The 'Ykenilde weie' entered Norwich where afterwards stood the Brazen

Doors, passing by All Saints' Green to the Castle Hill; the cavalcade

so entering what was called the New Burg, consisting of Norman

dwellings erected since the Conquest, which, then as now, took its name

from the Chapel in the Field, and included the parishes of St. Giles

and St. Stephen's. Here the enthusiasm was effusive, and a well-dressed

populace waved caps of rich fur in the air, while silken hangings and

gay banners waved from the windows.

It was with mingled feelings that Eadgyth of Norwich re-entered her

birthplace in the train of the Norman lady. All her loving

recollections were embittered by the sight of changes that reminded her

of the sufferings of her people and the ruin of their cause, and the

tears came into her eyes when she compared the welcoming crowd of

foreigners that shouted around her with the scenes stamped on her

childish memory, when she had seen the stalwart Danes and Saxons gather

to greet Harold Godwinsson, and heard their loud 'Waes hael!'

Storms of anger and jealous misery moved her as she passed through the

New Burg, for the smart dwellings on each side of the street had all

been built since the Conquest, and showed the wealth of the invader. As

they approached the castle, her heart sank more and more. It seemed to

her as if its heavy foundations had been laid upon her breast, so

cruelly did it bring home to her the strength of the yoke which was

riveted upon the necks of her people. For in architecture more than in

any art did the Normans excel the people they conquered, and though the

moats had been there when Harold was earl, the fortress within them was

but a rude structure.

When they reached the castle gate, a lively scene was enacted. The

garrison marched down to salute the earl and his bride, led by the

castellan on a prancing charger, and forming in glittering lines on

either side the Bale. There were companies of archers clad in mail

coats reaching halfway to the knee, over which they wore jerkins of

stout leather, their ell-long shafts stuck through their belts, and

their bows of yew, ash, witch-hazel, or elm, held in their right hands,

and capable of despatching the arrows to a distance of from 200 to 300

yards, with little steel-caps on their heads shaped much like the prim

head-coverings worn by the Puritan maidens of later times; and

men-at-arms, shining from head to foot in chain mail, or with little

steel rings sewn thickly upon leather, armed with straight swords about

a yard in length, and wearing helms like upset saucers; others less

heavily armed, bearing oval shields and long lances, their shoulders

and chests protected by glittering capes of scale armour; and others

again, still more slightly armed, with lighter lances, and small round

shields not larger than dinner-plates, with which to baulk a lance

thrust; slingers, with light tunics reaching to the knee, and little or

no armour, their weapon a long pole provided with a loop, from which

the practised hand could sling stones with great force and precision. A

good two-thirds of the archers and slingers were Bretons; for the men

of Bretagne were famed bowmen, and furnished the chief contingent of

the archers who did so much execution at Senlac.

Besides these there were the engineers, who worked the mangonels and

catapults, and a large troop of smiths and armourers, whose duty it was

to repair with hammer and anvil the damage done by wear and war to the

accoutrements of these various gentry,--in all some two to three

hundred men.

They rent the air with a great cheer, as they formed in line before the

earl and countess and their retinue; and the castellan, Sir Hoel de St.

Brice, a knight who had grown grey in the service of the Lords of

Guader and Montfort, and who had fought under the father of Ralph's

Breton mother, gave the cue, with a compliment to the bride.

'Long live the daughter of William Fitzosbern!' he cried, whereat the

soldiers cheered again.

Emma smiled and bowed, and tried to pay them equal compliments in

return.

'With such a castle, and such gallant defenders,' she said, 'fear would

be impossible, even if the blood of the veriest coward ran in her veins

instead of that of a hero.'

Whereat they gave still louder cheers, and vowed that they would spend

every drop of their blood to defend her if need were.

Then the earl treated them to a little harangue.

'He knew they meant what they said,' he told them, 'for he had seen

them fight, not only from behind stone walls, but hand to hand on the

field of Hastings;' and added, 'that he was glad he knew their metal,

for perhaps it would be rung sooner than they looked for.' An

announcement received with vociferous delight by the wild men of war,

who scarce thought life worth living in time of peace, and looked to

the giving and taking of shrewd blows both for amusement and fortune,

caring little in what cause they were bestowed.

While this took place, Eadgyth had turned her eyes to the south-east,

the old portion of the town looking over to the Thorpe marshes, where

the bright Mary buds 'had oped their golden eyes,' and the willows were

white with catkins, and the Thorpe woods were in their fresh verdure.

An overwhelming sense of desolation came upon her as she marked the old

familiar objects among which her childhood had been passed--and more

forcibly as she noted the absence of others. She drew her veil across

her face, lest it should be seen that she was weeping.

The cavalcade moved on again, Sir Hoel riding by the earl's side. They

passed into the northern end of King Street, and so to the ancient

palace of the East Anglian earls, which stood where the St. Ethelbert

Gate is now, and had a chapel dedicated to that saint, who had been a

king of the East Angles. He was murdered by Offa, King of Mercia, at

the instigation of his wife Quendrida. The head of the victimised

prince rolled down as his body was being carried away; a blind man

stumbled over it, and, accidentally touching his eyeballs with the

blood, received his sight again. A well sprang up where the head fell.

So runs the legend.

At the palace they were received by a gaily-clad host of servants and

retainers. Brave squires and smart pages, portly bursar and anxious

steward, cellarers, cooks, and scullions; stately dames and pretty

bower-maidens, tirewomen, dairy and grinding-maids (for in those days

windmills had not been invented, so 'woman's sphere' included the

grinding of flour in a hand-mill),--these, and many more, stood waiting

in order of their rank, and dressed in their bravest apparel.

Behind the earl's household was a still larger company of socmen and

slaves from the nine manors which William of Normandy had bestowed on

Ralph de Guader when he gave him the East Anglian earldom, making

altogether a goodly crowd of retainers; and we may guess how they all

strained forward to catch the first glimpse of the noble young bride

their lord was bringing home, and how Emma, though well used to homage,

was glad to bow her fair head under excuse of courtesy, and so hide her

glowing face from so many curious eyes.

On the plain before the palace, opposite St. Michael's Chapel

(Tombland), six fine beeves were roasting whole for the entertainment

of the populace, and a tun of wine and several fat barrels of ale were

broached, wherewith throats that had grown hoarse with shouting welcome

should be refreshed.

So came Emma, Countess of Norfolk and Suffolk, to her new home in

Norwich, where she was to spend but a few short months full of terror,

suffering, and sorrow, and by her bearing under misfortune to prove

herself the worthy daughter of her noble sire, and to be known in the

pages of history as the heroine of the most romantic incident in the

annals of Norwich Castle.

The Siege of Norwich Castle: A story of the last struggle against the Conqueror · 第 9 / 26 章