Cameos from English History, from Rollo to Edward II

C >> Charlotte Mary Yonge >> Cameos from English History, from Rollo to Edward II

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Robert founded nine monasteries, and made large gifts to all the
churches in his duchy, entreating the prayers of the clergy and of the
poor, for the pardon of the sins of his youth; but his conscience was
ill at ease, and in the sixth year of his dukedom he resolved to go on
pilgrimage to the Holy Land, a journey which was then even more perilous
than in subsequent years, when the Crusades had, in some degree, secured
the safety of the pilgrims, and he seems to have been fully persuaded
that he should never return alive.

His chief care was for the welfare of his son, William, a boy of seven
years old, whose situation was the more precarious, because there was
a stain on his birth, his mother being the daughter of a tanner of
Falaise, so that it was more than probable that his right to the
succession would be disputed by the numerous descendants of Richard Sans
Peur. Robert did his best to secure his safety by calling together
the vassals to do homage to him, and placing him under the especial
protection of Henry I. of France, at whose court at Paris he left him.

Robert then set out on his pilgrimage, with a few companions, all
wearing the coarse garb of pilgrims, with staves in their hands, and
their feet bare. As they were passing the gates of a small town in
Franche Comte, Robert walking last, an insolent warder, tired of holding
the gate open, struck him such a blow on the shoulders with a halbert
that he reeled under it, but so changed was his once violent temper,
that, seeing his friends about to revenge the insult, he called out,
"Let him alone; pilgrims ought to suffer for the love of God. I love his
blow better than my city of Rouen."

The next time Robert was heard of, was in humble guise, with staff
and wallet, when he received the blessing of the Pope at Rome; but
afterward, when he entered Constantinople, he appeared in all his wonted
magnificence. He rode to the palace of the Greek Emperor on a mule, shod
with golden shoes, so slightly fastened on as to be shaken off amongst
the crowds who surrounded him.

He travelled onward through Asia Minor, though attacked by a fever,
which obliged him to be carried in a litter by Moorish slaves--as he
himself expressed it to a Norman pilgrim whom he met returning, "to be
carried by devils to Paradise." Safely arriving at Jerusalem, he there
paid the entrance-money for a multitude of poor pilgrims, whom he found
shut out because they were unable to pay the large toll demanded by the
Saracens; and after performing the accustomed devotions at the different
consecrated spots in the Holy City, he set out on his return to
Normandy. His health was already impaired by the fatigues of the
journey, and he died at the city of Nicaea, in the year 1035. There, in
the now profaned sanctuary, where was held the first general Council of
the Church, rests, in his nameless and forgotten grave, the last of the
high-spirited and devout Dukes of Normandy.

From the time of the departure of Duke Robert, dangers crowded round the
ducal throne of his child; nor were they, as in the stormy minority of
Richard Sans Peur, perils chiefly from enemies without, met by a band of
vassals, strong in attachment to their lord. The foes who threatened the
young William were of his own family, and his own subjects, and there
was none of that generous temper, even amongst his chief supporters,
which, in the case of his great-grandfather, had made the scenes of war
and bloodshed in which he was brought up, a school not of valor alone,
but of the higher virtues of chivalry.

The Norman barons, greatly altered from what they had been in the days
when the justice of Rollo prevailed, lived shut up in their strong
castles, making war on each other, like independent princes plundering
the poor, and committing horrible cruelties, entirely unrestrained by
the guardians of the Duke. These, indeed, seemed to be the especial mark
for the attacks of the traitors, for his tutor and seneschal were both
murdered; the latter, Osborn, Count de Breteuil, while sleeping in the
same room with him. Osborn left a son, William, called from his name
Fils, or Fitz Osborn, who grew up with the young Duke, and became his
chief companion and friend.

It is wonderful that William himself should have escaped death, when so
completely unprotected; but he was preserved through all these dangers
for the task which was prepared for him; and at a very early age, his
numerous troubles had formed his character in the mould fittest for
him, who was to be the scourge of England, and yet the founder of its
greatness.

He was not sixteen when he first showed of what temper he was. His
great-uncle, the Count d'Arques, had set up a claim to the duchy,
and was besieged in his castle at Arques by Walter Gifford, Count de
Longueville, when the King of France succeeded in sending him such
considerable reinforcements and supplies, that Longueville sent
information that he should be obliged to raise the siege. The tidings
reached the Duke, at his hunting-lodge of Valognes. He stood for a few
moments in deep thought, and then called for his horse, only saying to
his knights these few words, "_Qui m'aime, me suive!_" "Let him who
loves me, follow me!" and rode off at full speed. He distanced all his
followers, rode all night, only stopping to take a fresh horse, and
in the evening of the next day arrived quite alone at the camp before
Arques, swearing never to leave it till the castle was in his hands.
The siege was continued with vigor, and, in a short time, it was
surrendered, the Count taking refuge in France.

From this time William took the direction of affairs into his own hands,
and, by his firmness and ability, succeeded in restraining the excesses
of his lawless vassals, though their turbulence, and the severity of
his own silent and haughty disposition, made their submission very
unwilling. When he was about twenty, a dangerous conspiracy was formed
against him by his cousin, Guy of Burgundy, and a number of his chief
vassals, who intended to seize him at his hunting-lodge at Valognes, put
him to death, and raise Guy to the dukedom.

The conspirators met at Bayeux, the day before their intended treachery,
and, whilst dining there, called in to amuse them a half-witted man
named Gillos, and the plot was, inadvertently, mentioned in his
presence. The duke, when passing through the town, had shown the
poor man some kindness, and no sooner did he understand the intended
treachery, than he left the hall, and set off for Valognes, where he
arrived just before midnight, and, finding all gone to rest, began to
batter the door with a stick, shouting for the Duke. At first, William
could not believe the story, but Gillos seemed so much in earnest, that
he deemed it advisable to go and see what had given rise to the report,
and, muffling himself in a cloak, ran down stairs, himself saddled his
horse, and rode toward Bayeux. Before he had gone far, he heard the
trampling of horses and clanking of weapons, and, concealing himself
among the trees, saw that the poor fool's information was perfectly
correct, for the whole band of traitors passed by exactly as they had
been described. Upon this, he changed his course, and turned toward the
coast in the direction of Falaise, his birthplace, and the town most
devoted to his interests. The dawn of morning found him with his horse
so weary that it could hardly stand, at the entrance of a small village,
still at a considerable distance from Falaise, and ignorant of the road.
At that moment a gentleman came out of the principal house, and the
instant he beheld the young horseman, travel-stained and covered with
dust as he was, he exclaimed, "St. Mary, my Lord, what can have brought
you here in such a condition?"

"Who are you, who know me so well?" asked William, in reply.

"By my faith," was the answer, "I am called Hubert de Ryes. I hold this
village of you under the Count de Bessin. Tell me, boldly, what you
need; I will help you as I would help myself."

Accordingly, Hubert de Byes took him into his house, gave him some
refreshment, and provided him with a fresh horse, sending his three
sons with him as guides, whilst he himself remained to misdirect the
pursuers, William safely arrived at Falaise, and, in memory of his
escape, is said to have caused his path to be traced out by a raised
bank of earth, part of which is still in existence.

Rallying his faithful subjects around him at Falaise, and obtaining aid
from the king, William met the rebels at Val des Demes. One of them came
over to his side before the battle, and, having previously sworn that
the Duke should be the first man whom he would strike, he began by
giving his armor a slight blow with the point of his lance, considering
it necessary thus to fulfil his rash oath to the letter. The rebels were
totally defeated, and either submitted to William's mercy, or went to
join their countrymen, who were engaged in the conquest of Sicily.

This was the last attempt made by the Normans to resist their Duke,
whose authority was now fully established; but it was not long before
a war broke out with his powerful neighbor Geoffrey, Count of Anjou,
which, however, would scarcely deserve mention, but for the curious
terms in which a challenge was sent by the Duke to the Count, who had
come to raise the siege of Domfront.

"Tell the Count of Anjou," said he to William Fitz Osborn and Roger
Montgomery, his messengers, "that if he attempts to carry victuals into
Domfront, he will find me before the gates, mounted on a bay horse, and
with a red shield. And that he may know me the better, I shall have at
the point of my lance a streamer of taffety, to wipe his face withal."

In the battle which followed, a few days after, William fulfilled his
threat, by overthrowing the Count, who escaped with difficulty, with the
loss of part of an ear, and was soon after obliged to conclude a peace.

William married Matilda, daughter of the Count of Flanders, and of a
sister of Duke Robert the Magnificent; and having omitted to ask the
dispensation from the Pope, which was required on the marriage of such
near relations, his uncle, the Archbishop of Rouen, laid them both under
sentence of excommunication. William sought for an advocate to send to
Rome to plead for their absolution, and his choice fell upon Lanfranc, a
native of Lombardy, who had been bred as a lawyer, and was possessed of
great learning and talent, but had chosen to embrace the monastic life,
and had selected the Norman abbey of Bee as the place of his profession,
because the monks there were very poor, and very strict in the
observance of their rule. Lanfranc, at the Duke's desire, travelled to
Rome, and there succeeded in obtaining the confirmation of the marriage,
and the absolution of the bride and bridegroom, on condition of their
each founding an abbey, and jointly building a hospital for the blind.

In accordance with this command, Matilda built the beautiful Abbaye aux
Dames at Caen, where her eldest daughter, Cecile, afterward took the
veil, and William founded, at the same place, the Abbey of St. Stephen,
of which Lanfranc was the first abbot. But fair as were the proportions
of that exquisite building, noble as were its clustered columns, and
rich as were the zigzag mouldings of its deep arches, its foundation was
insecure, for it was on iniquity. It stood on ground violently taken
from a number of poor people; and where could the blessing of Heaven
have been?

Twenty-three years afterward a grave was dug in the noble choir of St.
Stephen's Church, and William's corpse was carried through the porch,
followed by a long train of nobles, knights, and clergy, but by not one
of his numerous children. The requiem was chanted, and orations were
made in praise of the Duke of Normandy, the King and Conqueror of
England, the founder of abbeys, the builder of churches, when suddenly
the cry of "Ha Ro!"--the Norman appeal for justice--was heard, and a man
in mean garments stood forth, and spoke thus: "Clerks and Bishops, this
ground is mine. Here was my father's hearth. The man whom you praise
wrested it from me to build this church. I sold it not. I made no grant
of it. It is my right, and I claim it. In the name of Rollo, the founder
of his family, and of our laws, I forbid you to lay the body of the
spoiler therein, or to cover it with my earth."

The Bishops were obliged to promise satisfaction to the man, and to pay
him on the spot sixty pence as the price of the Conqueror's grave. But,
even then, his bones were not permitted to rest in peace. In the course
of the civil wars of France, his tomb was twice broken open by the
Huguenots, the first time rifled of the royal ornaments in which he
had been arrayed, and the second, the spoilers, disappointed of their
expected prize, cast out the mouldering bones, and dispersed them.

CAMEO IV.

EARL GODWIN.
(1012-1052.)

_Kings of England_.
1013. Swein.
1014. Knut.
1015. Ethelred the Unready (restored).
1016. Edmund Ironside.
1018. Knut.
1036. Harold I.
1039. Harthaknut.
1041. Edward the Confessor.

The Danish conquest of England, although the power of the kings of that
nation continued but a short time, made great changes in the condition
of the country. The customs and laws that had hitherto been observed
only in the lands granted by Alfred to the Danes, spread into almost all
the kingdom, and the civilization which the great king had striven so
hard to introduce was well-nigh swept away.

England might be considered to be in three divisions--the West Saxon,
subject to the laws of Alfred; the Mercian, which had a law of its own;
and the East Anglian and Northern portion, where the population was
chiefly Danish, and which was therefore more under the immediate power
of the Danish kings. Under them, London became the royal residence,
instead of Winchester, and several words in our language still attest
their influence upon our customs. Of these is the word Hustings, for a
place of public assembly; and the title of Earl, for which the English
language afforded no feminine, till it borrowed the word Countess from
the French, reminds us that the Northern Jarls were only governors
during the king's pleasure, and that their dignity conferred no rank on
their families.

Under the Danish kings, the other divisions of England fell under the
rule of three great Earls. The Danish Northumbria was ruled by the great
Northman Siward Bjorn; Mercia was governed by the house of Leofric, an
old noble family connected with the ancient line of Mercian kings.

There were many of this family named Leofric, and it is probably of
the one living at this time that the curious old tradition of Coventry
belongs, which related how his wife, the Lady Godiva, rode through the
town with no covering but her abundant hair, to obtain from him the
remission of the townspeople from his oppressive exactions--a story of
which the memory is kept up at Coventry by a holiday, and the procession
of the Lady Godiva.

Wessex had become the portion of Godwin, son of Ulfnoth, and
great-nephew to the traitor, Edric Streona, the murderer of Edmund
Ironside. There is a story, probably a mere fiction, that this family
was of mean origin, that Ulfnoth was a herdsman of the south of
Warwickshire, and that Godwin first rose to distinction in the following
manner: Ulf, a Danish Jarl, who had married a sister of Knut, was
separated from the army after one of the battles with Edmund Ironside,
and after wandering all night, met in the morning with a youth driving a
herd of cattle. He asked his name, and the reply was, "I am Godwin, the
son of Ulfnoth; and you, I think, are a Dane."

Ulf confessed that he was, and begged the young man to show him the way
to the Severn, where he expected to find the fleet.

"The Dane would be a fool who trusted to a Saxon," answered Godwin; and
when Ulf continued his entreaties, he explained that the way was not
long, but that the serfs were all in arms against the Danes, and would
kill both him and any one whom they found guiding him. Ulf offered the
young herdsman a golden ring for his reward. He looked at it a moment,
then said, "I will take nothing from you, but I will be your guide," and
led him home to his father's cottage, where he was hidden through the
whole day. At night, when he prepared to set forth, Ulfnoth told him
that Godwin would not be able to return, since the peasants would kill
him for having protected a Dane, and therefore begged that the Jarl
would keep him among his own people, and present him to the King.

Ulf promised, and this, it is said, was the foundation of Godwin's
greatness; but there is great reason to doubt the tale, and it is far
more probable that the family was anciently noble. Godwin married Gyda,
the sister of Ulf, and thus was brought into near connection with Knut;
but Ulf, his patron and brother-in-law, soon after was killed in one of
those outbursts of violence and cruelty to which Knut seemed to return
whenever he went back to his own savage North.

Knut had been defeated by the Swedes at Helge, and was at Roskild,
when he was playing at chess in the evening with Ulf, and, making an
oversight, lost a knight. He took the piece back again, changed his
move, and desired his opponent to go on playing; but the Jarl, choosing
to play chess on equal terms or not at all, threw down the board, and
went away.

"Run away, Ulf the Fearful!" said Knut.

Ulf turned back, and answered, "Thou wouldst have run further at Helge
river! Thou didst not call me Ulf the Fearful when I came to thy help
while the Swedes were beating thee like a dog."

Knut brooded on the offence all night, and in the morning sent his page
to kill the Jarl. The page found him at his prayers in church, and
therefore refrained; but Knut sent another of his followers, who slew
him as he knelt.

Godwin had, before this, gained too much favor to be likely to fall with
his brother-in-law. He was with the king on an expedition against the
Wends, and on the night before an intended battle, made a sudden attack
without Knut's knowledge, and completely routed them. His talents were
so much appreciated, that he received the great Earldom of Wessex, the
portion of England least under the power of the Danes, and where the
old line of Alfred was most loved and regretted, since it was their
hereditary kingdom.

For this reason Godwin was desirous to maintain the Danes in England
after Knut's death, and to keep the scattered royal line at a distance.
Harthaknut, whom the will of his father had called to the succession,
was absent in Denmark, and Godwin caused his brother, Harold Harefoot,
to be crowned in haste, though the Archbishop would not sanction the
usurpation, placed the crown and sceptre on the altar, and forbade the
bishops to give him their blessing.

Alfred and Edward, the two sons of Ethelred the Unready, had in the
meantime been brought up under the protection of their uncle, Richard
the Good, of Normandy, dwelling for the most part in those beautiful
Abbeys of Fescamp and Jumieges, which had been endowed by the piety of
the Dukes, and where they grew up in godliness and virtue, with gentle
manners and civilized tastes, far unlike to those which prevailed in
their native land. Robert the Magnificent was a great friend to them,
and his death on his pilgrimage made their abode in Normandy far less
peaceful and secure.

Soon after the coronation of Harold Harefoot, they received a letter
purporting to come from their mother, Emma, widow of Knut, inviting them
to assert their claim to their father's throne. Edward, with a band
of Normans, met his mother at Winchester, but he could not keep his
followers from plundering the country; and finding little hope of
success, gave up the attempt, and returned to Normandy. Alfred landed at
Sandwich, in Kent, and was so well received by the Archbishop and
people, that Godwin, becoming alarmed, had recourse to treachery,
pretended to own him as king, and conducted him to Guilford. Thither
King Harold sent his Danes, who seized the prince's followers, after
Godwin's men had dispersed them through the town and stupefied them with
drink. Every tenth man was killed, the rest were sold for slaves, and
Alfred himself was carried to Ely, where his eyes were torn out, and he
died of the injury. His mother, Emma, fled to Bruges, and this makes it
probable that either she never sent the letter at all, or was only the
innocent instrument of Godwin's desire to rid himself of the royal
family; but her son Edward believed her to have been knowingly concerned
in this horrible transaction, and never regarded her as guiltless of his
brother's death. It is possible that Godwin may also have been free from
treachery, and have meant well by the prince.

Her other son, Harthaknut, left Denmark to join her at Bruges, intending
in the spring to drive Harold from the throne; but death was beforehand
with him. Harold died in 1040, and Harthaknut had only to come to
England to take possession of the crown. Both these young men were, at
heart, savage Danes; and the first deed of Harthaknut, on his arrival,
was to satisfy his vengeance for the usurpation of his throne and the
murder of Alfred, by causing Harold's corpse to be taken from its grave,
the head cut off, and the body thrown into a marsh. He threatened to
punish Godwin, but the Earl averted his wrath by the present of one of
the long serpent-like keels prized by the Danes, the prow gilded, and
the crew of eighty men, each fully equipped, and with a gold bracelet on
the left arm.

Harthaknut was pacified by this gift, and contented himself with sending
for his surviving half-brother Edward from Normandy, and treating him as
became the Atheling. The wild, half-heathen court of Harthaknut was a
strange and bewildering change for the gentle Edward, whose habits and
tastes were only suited to the convent where he had spent his early
days, and who found in the rough affection of his Danish brother his
only protection from the fierce spirits around. His grief and dismay
were great when, after he had spent a few months in England, he heard
that Harthaknut, at the wedding-feast of the daughter of the Dane,
Osgood Clapa, from whom Clapham is named, had died suddenly, immediately
after an excessive draught of wine.

Edward found himself left without protection in the hands of the fierce
men who had murdered his brother. He was forty years old, and of an
inactive, timid disposition, which unfitted him for taking any bold
measures in this emergency; his affections were in the convents of
Normandy, and with the young son of his friend, Duke Robert, and he
earnestly entreated Godwin to allow him to return in safety thither.

The Earl, however, saw that neither Saxons nor Danes would submit to the
authority of one who was not of royal blood, and that the best hope
of preserving the power he had acquired in the latter reigns, was by
setting up a weak king, and governing in his name. He therefore replied
by tendering his submission to Edward, and promising to support him on
the throne, on condition that he would marry Edith, his daughter, so
fair, so gentle, and pious a lady, that it was a saying, "Even as the
rose springs from the thorn, so springs Edith from Godwin." She was very
learned, and Ingulf, who afterward was the secretary of the Conqueror,
and Abbot of Croyland, loved to remember how, when he was a boy come
from his convent-school to visit his father at the court, the Lady Edith
would send for him, examine him in his studies, and end by causing her
maiden to count out three or four coins into his hand, and sending him
to the royal larder for refreshment.

Edward was thus placed upon the throne, and every act performed of his
own free will showed his gentleness and desire for his people's good. At
the request of Edith, he abolished the Danegeld, or money raised first
to bribe the Danes, and then as their tribute; indeed, it was said
that he had seen a vision of an evil spirit dancing on the gold thus
collected. He made new laws in hopes of preventing crime, and set so
strict an example of attention to every rule of the Church, and giving
alms so largely, that he gained the love of his people, and fixed his
memory in their hearts so strongly, that he was revered as a Saint, and
the title of Confessor was given to him, though it properly only applies
to one who has suffered everything short of martyrdom, for the sake of
the Christian faith.

The times were too rude and violent for a king of so soft a mould:
crimes were committed which he had no power to restrain, and,
weak-handed and bewildered, he seems to have acted in great matters much
as he did in the following adventure: He was lying on his bed, when a
person came into the apartment, and, thinking him asleep, stole some
money out of a chest. The King let this pass; but when the thief
returned for a second handful, he quietly said, "Sirrah, you had better
take care, for if Hugolin, my chamberlain, catches you, he will give you
a sound beating." Hugolin soon came in, and was much concerned at the
loss. "Never mind," said the King; "the poor man wants it more than we
do."