THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
LOS ANGELES
HAROLD,
LAST OF THE SAXON KINGS.
VOL. III.
H A K L D,
THE
LAST OF THE SAXON KINGS;
BY THE AUTHOR OP
RIENZI ;" " THE LAST OE THE BARONS ;'
ETC. ETC. ETC.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. III.
SECOND EDITION.
LONDON :
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET
1848.
Sfaclc
Annex
PR
4910
AJ
HAROLD,
LAST OF THE SAXON KINGS.
BOOK IX.
(CONTINUED.)
CHAPTER V.
ON entering the chamber set apart for him in
the convent, Harold found Haco and Wolnoth
already awaiting him ; and a wound he had
received in the las tskirmish against the Bretons,
having broken out afresh on the road, allowed
him an excuse to spend the rest of the evening
alone with his kinsmen.
On conversing with them now at length, and
unrestrainedly Harold saw everything to in-
crease his alarm, and be convinced of the snares
which beset him ; for even Wolnoth, when closely
pressed, could not but give evidence of the un-
VOL. III. B
:7i6
2 HAROLD.
scrupulous astuteness with which, despite all the
boasted honour of chivalry, the Duke's character
was stained. For, indeed in his excuse, it must
be said, that from the age of eight, exposed to
the snares of his own kinsmen, and more often
saved by craft than by strength, William had
been taught betimes to justify dissimulation,
and confound wisdom with guile. Harold now
bitterly recalled the parting words of Edward,
and recognized their justice, though as yet he did
not see all that they portended. Fevered and dis-
quieted yet more by the news from England, and
conscious that not only the power of his house
and the foundations of his aspiring hopes, but the
very weal and safety of the land, were daily
imperilled by his continued absence, a vague and
unspeakable terror for the first time in his life
preyed on his bold heart a terror like that of
superstition, for, like superstition, it was of the
Unknown; there was every thing to shun, yet
no substance to grapple with. He who could
have smiled at the brief pangs of death, shrunk
from the thought of the perpetual prison; he,
whose spirit rose elastic to every storm of life, and
exulted in the air of action, stood appalled at the
HAROLD. 3
fear of blindness ; that utter and desolate privation
of power, freedom, utility the hope and career of
man in the Age of Iron.
What, too, were those mysterious points on
which he was to satisfy the Duke ? He sounded
his young kinsmen ; but Wolnoth evidently knew
nothing ; Haco's eye showed intelligence, but by
his looks and gestures he seemed to signify that
what he knew he would disclose but to Harold.
Fatigued, not more with his emotions than with
that exertion to conceal them so peculiar to the
English character, (proud virtue of manhood so
little appreciated, and so rarely understood,) he
at length kissed Wolnoth, and dismissed him,
yawning, to his rest. Haco, lingering, closed the
door, and looked long and mournfully at the Earl.
" Noble kinsman," said the young son of Sweyn,
" I foresaw, from the first, that, as our fate will be
thine ; only round thee will be wall and fosse ;
unless, indeed, thou wilt lay aside thine own na-
ture; it will give thee no armour here and
assume that which "
" Ho ! " interrupted the Earl, shaking with re-
pressed passion, " I see already all the foul fraud
and treason to guest and noble that surround me !
B 2
4 HAROLD.
But if the Duke dare such shame, he shall do so
in the eyes of day. The first boat I see on his
river, or his sea coast, I will hail ; and woe to
those who lay hand on this arm to detain me ! "
Haco lifted his ominous eyes to Harold's ; and
there was something in their cold and unimpas-
sioned expression which seemed to repel all enthu-
siasm, and to deaden all courage.
" Harold," said he, " if but for one such moment
thou obeyest the impulse of thy manly pride, or
thy just resentment, thou art lost for ever ; one
show of violence, one word of affront, and thou
givest the Duke the excuse he thirsts for. Escape !
It is impossible. For the last five years, I have
pondered night and day the means of flight ; for I
deem that my hostageship, by right, is long since
over ; and no means have I seen or found. Spies
dog my every step, as spies, no doubt, dog
thine."
" Ha ! it is true," said Harold ; " never once
have I wandered three paces from the camp or
the troop, but, under some pretext, I have been
followed by knight or courtier. God and our
Lady help me, if but for England's sake ! But
what counsellest thou ? Boy, teach me ; thou
HAROLD. 5
hast been reared in this air of wile to me it is
strange, and I am as a wild beast encompassed by
a circle of fire."
" Then/' answered Haco, " meet craft by craft,
smile by smile. Feel that thou art under compul-
sion, and act, as the Church itself pardons men
for acting, so compelled."
Harold started, and the blush spread red over
his cheeks.
Haco continued.
" Once in prison, and thou art lost ever more to
the sight of men. William would not then dare
to release thee unless, indeed, he first rendered
thee powerless to avenge. Though I will not
malign him, and say that he himself is capable of
secret murder, yet he has ever those about him
who are. He drops in his wrath some hasty word ;
it is seized by ready and ruthless tools. The
great Count of Bretagne was in his way ; William
feared him as he fears thee ; and in his own court,
and amongst his own men, the great Count of Bre-
tagne died by poison. For thy doom, open or
secret, William, however, could find ample excuse."
" How, boy ? What charge can the Norman
adduce against a free Englishman ? "
6 HAROLD.
" His kinsman Alfred/' answered Haco, " was
blinded, tortured, and murdered. And in the court
of Rouen, they say these deeds were done by
Godwin, thy father. The Normans who escorted
Alfred were decimated in cold blood ; again, they
say Godwin thy father slaughtered them."
" It is hell's own lie ! " cried Harold, " and so
have I proved already to the Duke."
" Proved ? No ! The lamb does not prove the
cause which is prejudged by the wolf. Often,
and often have I heard the Normans speak of those
deeds, and cry that vengeance yet shall await
them. It is but to renew the old accusation, to
say Godwin's sudden death was God's proof of
his crime, and even Edward himself would forgive
the Duke for thy bloody death. But grant the
best ; grant that the more lenient doom were but
the prison ; grant that Edward and the English in-
vaded Normandy to enforce thy freedom. Know-
est thou what William hath ere now done with
hostages? He hath put them in the van of his
army, and seared out their eyes in the sight of
both hosts. Deemest thou he would be more
gentle to us and to thee ? Such are thy dangers.
Be bold and frank, and thou canst not escape
HAROLD. 7
them ; be wary and wise, promise and feign, and
they are baffled : cover thy lion heart with the
fox's hide until thou art free from the toils."
" Leave me, leave me," said Harold, hastily.
"Yet, hold. Thou didst seem to understand me
when I hinted of in a word, what is the object
William would gain from me ? "
Haco looked round ; again went to the door
again opened and closed it approached, and
whispered, "The crown of England !"
The Earl bounded as if shot to the heart ; then,
again he cried, " Leave me. I must be alone
alone now. Go ! go ! "
CHAPTER VI.
ONLY in solitude could that strong man give
way to his emotions; and at first they rushed
forth so confused and stormy, so hurtling one the
other, that hours elapsed before he could serenely
face the terrible crisis of his position.
The great historian of Italy has said, that when-
ever the simple and truthful German came amongst
the plotting and artful Italians, and experienced
their duplicity and craft, he straightway became
more false and subtle than the Italians themselves;
to his own countrymen, indeed, he continued to
retain his characteristic sincerity and good faith ;
but, once duped and tricked by the southern
schemers, as if with a fierce scorn, he rejected
troth with the truthless ; he exulted in mastering
them in their own wily statesmanship ; and if re-
proached for insincerity, retorted, with naive won-
der, " Ye Italians, and complain of insincerity !
HAROLD. 9
How otherwise can one deal with you how be
safe amongst you ? "
Somewhat of this revolution of all the natural
elements of his character took place in Harold's
mind that stormy and solitary night. In the
transport of his indignation, he resolved not dolt-
ishly to he thus outwitted to his ruin. The per-
fidious host had deprived himself of that privilege
of Truth, the large and heavenly security of man ;
it was but a struggle of wit against wit, snare
against snare. The state and law of warfare had
started up in the lap of fraudful peace ; and am-
bush must be met by ambush, plot by plot.
Such was the nature of the self excuses by
which the Saxon defended his resolves, and they
appeared to him more sanctioned by the stake
which depended on success a stake which his un-
dying patriotism allowed to be far more vast than
his individual ambition. Nothing was so clear
than that if he were detained in a Norman prison,
at the time of King Edward's death, the sole
obstacle to William's design on the English
throne would be removed. In the interim, the
Duke's intrigues would again surround the infirm
King with Norman influences ; and in the absence
B 3
10 HAROLD.
both of any legitimate heir to the throne capable
of commanding the trust of the people, and of his
own preponderating ascendency both in the Witan
and the armed militia of the nation, what could
arrest the designs of the grasping Duke ? Thus
his own liberty was indissolubly connected with
that'of his country; and for that great end, the
safety of England, all means grew holy.
When the next morning he joined the caval-
cade, it was only by his extreme paleness that the
struggle and agony of the past night could be
traced, and he answered with correspondent cheer-
fulness William's cordial greetings.
AB they rode together still accompanied by
several knights, and the discourse was thus
general, the features of the country suggested the
theme of the talk. For, now in the heart of Nor-
mandy, but in rural districts remote from the
great towns, nothing could be more waste and
neglected than the face of the land. Miserable
and sordid to the last degree were the huts of the
serfs ; and when these last met them on their way,
half-naked and hunger-worn, there was a wild
gleam of hate and discontent in their eyes, as
they louted low to the Norman riders, and heard
HAROLD. 1 1
the bitter and scornful taunts with which they
were addressed; for the Norman and the Frank
had more than indifference for the peasants of
their land ; they literally both despised and ab-
horred them, as of different race from the con-
querors. The Norman settlement especially was
so recent in the land, that none of that amalgama-
tion between class and class which centuries had
created in England, existed there; though in
England the theowe was wholly a slave, and the
ceorl in a political servitude to his lord, yet public
opinion, more mild than law, preserved the thral-
dom from wanton aggravation ; and slavery was
felt to be wrong and unchristian. The Saxon
Church not the less perhaps, for its very igno-
rance sympathized more with the subject popula-
tion, and was more associated with it, than the
comparatively learned and haughty ecclesiastics of
the continent, who held aloof from the unpolished
vulgar. The Saxon Church invariably set the
example of freeing the theowe and emancipating the
ceorl, and taught that such acts were to the salva-
tion of the soul. The rude and homely manner in
which the greater part of the Saxon thegns lived
dependent solely for their subsistence on their
12 HAROLD.
herds and agricultural produce, and therefore on
the labour of their peasants not only made the
distinctions of rank less harsh and visible, but ren-
dered it the interest of the lords to feed and clothe
well their dependents. All our records of the cus-
toms of the Saxons prove the ample sustenance
given to the poor, and a general care for their
lives and rights, which, compared with the Frank
laws, may be called enlightened and humane. And
above all, the lowest serf ever had the great hope
both of freedom and of promotion ; but the beast
of the field was holier in the eyes of the Norman,
than the wretched villein.* "We have likened the
* See Mr. W*HJHT'S very interesting article on the Condition oj
the Enolish Peasantry, &c. Archaeolog. TO!, xxx. p. 205244.
1 most, however, observe, that one very important fact seems to
have been generally overlooked by all inquirers, or, at least, not
sufficiently enforced, viz., that it was the Norman's contempt for
the general mass of the subject-population which more, perhaps,
than any other cause, broke up positive slavery in England.
Thus the Norman very soon lost sight of that distinction the
Anglo-Saxons had made between the agricultural ceorl and the
theowe; i.e. between the serf of the soil and the personal slave.
Hence these classes became fused in each other, and were gra-
dually emancipated by the same circumstances. This, be it
remarked, could never have taken place under the Anglo-Saxon
laws, which kept constantly feeding the class of slaves by adding
to it convicted felons, and their children. The subject- popula-
tion became too necessary to the Norman Barons, in their feuds
with each other, or their king, to be long oppressed ; and, in the
HAROLD. 13
Norman to the Spartan, and, most of all, he was
like him in his scorn of the helot.
Thus embruted and degraded, deriving little
from religion itself, except its terrors, the general
habits of the peasants on the continent of France
were against the very basis of Christianity mar-
riage. They lived together for the most part with-
out that tie, and hence the common name, with
which they Avere called by their masters, lay and
clerical, was the coarsest word contempt can apply
to the sons of women.
" The hounds glare at us," said Odo, as a
drove of these miserable serfs passed along. "They
need ever the lash to teach them to know the
master. Are they thus mutinous and surly in
England, Lord Harold ? "
" No : but there our meanest theowes are not
seen so clad, nor housed in such hovels," said the
Earl.
" And is it really true that a villein with you
can rise to be a noble ? "
" Of at least yearly occurrence. Perhaps the fore-
time of FROISSART, that worthy chronicler ascribes the insolence,
or high spirit of le menu peuple to their grand aise, et abondance
de biens.
14 HAROLD.
fathers of one-fourth of our Anglo-Saxon thegns
held the plough, or followed some craft mechanical."
Duke William politically checked Odo's answer,
and said mildly,
" Every land its own laws : and by them alone
should it be governed by a virtuous and wise ruler.
But, noble Harold, I grieve that you should thus
note the sore point in my realm. I grant that the
condition of the peasants and the culture of the
land need reform. But in my childhood, there
was a fierce outbreak of rebellion among the vil-
leins, needing bloody example to check, and the
memories of wrath between lord and villein must
sleep before we can do justice between them, as
please St. Peter, and by Lanfranc's aid, we hope
to do. Meanwhile, one great portion of our vil-
leinage in our larger towns we have much miti-
gated. For trade and commerce are the strength
of rising states ; and if our fields are barren our
streets are prosperous."
Harold bowed, and rode musingly on. That
civilization he had so much admired bounded itself
to the noble class, and, at farthest to, the circle of
the Duke's commercial policy. Beyond it, on the
outskirts of humanity, lay the mass of the people.
HAROLD. 15
And here, no comparison in favour of the latter
could be found between English and Norman
civilization.
The towers of Bayeux rose dim in the dis-
tance, when William proposed a halt in a plea-
sant spot by the side of a small stream, over-
shadowed by oak and beech. A tent for himself
and Harold was pitched in haste, and after an ab-
stemious refreshment, the Duke, taking Harold's
arm, led him away from the train along the mar-
gin of the murmuring stream.
They were soon in a remote, pastoral, primitive
spot, a spot like those which the old menestrels
loved to describe, and in which some pious
hermit might, pleased, have fixed his solitary
home.
Halting where a mossy bank jutted over the
water, William motioned to his companion to seat
himself, and reclining at his side, abstractedly took
the pebbles from the margin and dropped them
into the stream. They fell to the bottom with a
hollow sound ; the circle they made on the surface
widened, and was lost; and the wave rushed and
murmured on, disdainful.
" Harold," said the Duke at last, " thou hast
16 HAROLD.
thought, I fear, that I have trifled with thy im-
patience to return. But there is on my mind a
matter of great moment to thee and to me, and it
must out, before thou canst depart. On this very
spot where we now sit, sate in early youth, Edward
thy King, and William thy host. Soothed by the
loneliness of the place, and the music of the bell
from the church tower, rising pale through yon-
der glade, Edward spoke of his desire for the
monastic life, and of his content with his exile in
the Norman land. Few then were the hopes that
he should ever attain the throne of Alfred. I,
more martial, and ardent for him as myself, com-
bated the thought of the convent, and promised,
that, if ever occasion meet arrived, and he needed
the Norman help, I would, with arm and heart,
do a chiefs best to win him his lawful crown.
Heedest thou me, dear Harold ?"
" Ay, my host, with heart as with ear."
" And Edward then, pressing my hand as I now
press thine, while answering gratefully, promised,
that if he did, contrary to all' human foresight, gain
his heritage, he, in case I survived him, would be-
queath that heritage to me. Thy hand withdraw
itself from mine."
HAROLD. 17
" But from surprise. Duke William, proceed."
" Now," resumed William, " when thy kinsmen
were sent to me as hostages for the most powerful
House in England the only one that could thwart
the desire of my cousin I naturally deemed this
a corroboration of his promise, and an earnest of
his continued designs ; and in this I was reas-
sured by the prelate, Robert Archbishop of Can-
terbury, who knew the most secret conscience
of your King. Wherefore my pertinacity in
retaining those hostages ; wherefore my disregard
to Edward's mere remonstrances, which, I not un-
naturally conceived to be but his meek concessions
to the urgency of thyself and House. Since then,
Fortune or Providence hath favoured the promise
of the King, and my just expectations founded
thereon. For one moment, it seemed indeed, that
Edward regretted or reconsidered the pledge of
our youth. He sent for his kinsman, the Atheling,
natural heir to the throne. But the poor prince
died. The son, a mere child, if I am rightly in-
formed, the laws of thy land will set aside, should
Edward die ere the child grow a man ; and,
moreover, I am assured, that the young Edgar
hath no power of mind or intellect to wield so
18 HAROLD.
weighty a sceptre as that of England. Your
King, also, even since your absence, hath had
severe visitings of sickness, and ere another year
his new Abbey may hold his tomb."
William here paused; again dropped the peb-
bles into the stream, and glanced furtively on the
unrevealing face of the Earl. He resumed
" Thy brother Tostig, as so nearly allied to my
House, would, I am advised, back my claims ; and
wert thou absent from England, Tostig, I conceive,
would be in thy place as the head of the great
party of Godwin. But to prove how little I care
for thy brother's aid compared with thine, and how
implicitly I count on thee, I have openly told thee
what a wilier plotter would have concealed viz.
the danger to which thy brother is menaced in his
own earldom. To the point, then, I pass at once.
I might, as my ransomed captive, detain thee here,
until, without thee, I had won my English throne,
and I know that thou alone couldst obstruct my
just claims, or interfere with the King's will, by
which that appanage will be left to me. Never-
theless, I unbosom myself to thee, and would owe
my crown solely to thine aid. I pass on to treat
with thee, dear Harold, not as lord with vassal,
HAROLD. 19
but as prince with prince. On thy part, thou
shalt hold for me the castle of Dover, to yield to
my fleet when the hour comes ; thou shalt aid me
in peace and through thy National Witan to suc-
ceed to Edward, by whose laws I will reign in all
things conformably with the English rites, habits,
and decrees. A stronger king to guard England
from the Dane, and a more practised head to im-
prove her prosperity, I am vain enow to say thou
wilt not find in Christendom. On my part, I offer
to thee my fairest daughter Adeliza, to whom thou
shalt be straightway betrothed : thine own young
unwedded sister, Thyra, thou shalt give to one of
my greatest barons : all the lands, dignities, and
possessions thou holdest now, thou shalt still
retain ; and if, as I suspect, thy brother Tostig
cannot keep his vast principality north the Hum-
ber, it shall pass to thee. Whatever else thou
canst demand in guarantee of my love and grati-
tude, or so to confirm thy power that thou shalt
rule over thy countships as free and as powerful
as the great Counts of Provence or Anjou reign
in France over theirs, subject only to the mere form
of holding in fief to the Suzerain, as I, stormy sub-
ject, hold Normandy under Philip of France, shall
20 HAROLD.
be given to thee. In truth, there will be two kings
in England, though in name but one. And far from
losing by the death of Edward, thou shalt gain by
the subjection of every meaner rival, and the cor-
dial love of thy grateful William. Splendour of
God, Earl, thou keepest me long for thine an-
swer!"
" What thou offerest," said the Earl, fortifying
himself with the resolution of the previous night,
and compressing his lips, livid with rage, " is be-
yond my deserts, and all that the greatest chief
under royalty could desire. But England is not
Edward's to leave, nor mine to give : its throne
rests with the Witan."
"And the Witan rests with thee," exclaimed
William, sharply. " I ask but for possibilities, man ;
I ask but all thine influence on my behalf; and
if it be less than I deem, mine is the loss. What
dost thou resign ? I will not presume to menace
thee ; but thou wouldst indeed despise my folly, if
now, knowing my designs, I let thee forth not
to aid but betray them. I know thou lovcst
England, so do I. Thou deemest me a foreigner ;
true, but the Norman and Dane are of precisely the
same origin. Thou, of the race of Canute, knowest
HAROLD. 21
how popular was the reign of that King. Why
should William's be less so ? Canute had no right
whatsoever, save that of the sword. My right
will be kinship to Edward Edward's wish in my
favour the consent through thee of the Witan
the absence of all other worthy heir my wife's
clear descent from Alfred, which, in my children,
restore the Saxon line, through its purest and noblest
ancestry, to the throne. Think over all this, and
then wilt thou tell me that I merit not this
crown?"
Harold yet paused, and the fiery Duke resumed
" Are the terms I give not tempting enow to
my captive to the son of the great Godwin, who,
no doubt falsely, but still by the popular voice of
all Europe, had power of life and death over my
cousin Alfred and my Norman knights ? or dost
thou thyself covet the English crown ; and is it to
a rival that I have opened my heart ? "
"Nay," said Harold in the crowning effort of
his new and fatal lesson in simulation. " Thou
hast convinced me, Duke William; let it be as
thou sayest."
The Duke gave way to his joy by a loud ex-
clamation, and then recapitulated the articles of
22 HAROLD.
the engagement, to which Harold simply bowed
his head. Amicably, then, the Duke embraced
the Earl, and the two returned towards the tent.
While the steeds were brought forth, "William
took the opportunity to draw Odo apart; and,
after a short whispered conference, the prelate
hastened to his barb, and spurred fast to Bayeux
in advance of the party. All that day, and all
that night, and all the next morn till noon, couriers
and riders went abroad, north and south, east
and west, to all the more famous abbeys and
churches in Normandy, and holy and awful was
the spoil with which they returned for the cere-
mony of the next day.
CHAPTER VII.
THE stately mirth of the evening banquet seemed
to Harold as the malign revel of some demoniac
orgy. He thought he read in every face the exul-
tation over the sale of England's soul. Every light
laugh in the proverbial ease of the social Normans
rang on his ear like the joy of a ghastly Sabbat. All
his senses preternaturally sharpened to that mag-
netic keenness in which we less hear and see than
conceive and divine, the lowest murmur William
breathed in the ear of Odo, boomed clear to his
own ; the slightest interchange of glance between
some dark browed priest, and large breasted war-
rior, flashed upon his vision. The irritation of his
recent and neglected wound, combined with his
mental excitement to quicken, yet to confuse his
faculties. Body and soul were fevered. He
24 HAROLD.
floated, as it were, between a delirium and a
dream.
Late in the evening, he was led into the cham-
ber where the Duchess sat alone with Adeliza and
her second son William a boy who had the red
hair and florid hues of the ancestral Dane, but
was not without a certain bold and strange kind
of beauty, and who, even in childhood, all
covered with broidery and gems, betrayed the
passion for that extravagant and fantastic foppery
for which William the Red King, to the scandal
of Church and pulpit, exchanged the decorous
pomp of his father's generation. A formal presen-
tation of Harold to the little maid was followed
by a brief ceremony of words, which conveyed
what to the scornful sense of the Earl seemed
the mockery of betrothal between infant and
bearded man. Glozing congratulations buzzed
around him ; then there was a flash of lights on
his dizzy eyes, he found himself moving through
a corridor between Odo and William. He was
in his room hung with arras and strewed with
rushes ; before him in niches, various images of
the Virgin, the Archangel Michael, St. Stephen,
St. Peter, St. John, St. Valery ; and from the
HAROLD. 25
bells in the monastic edifice hard by tolled the
third watch * of the night the narrow casement
was out of reach high in the massive wall, and the
starlight was darkened by the great church tower.
Harold longed for air. All his earldom had he
given at that moment, to feel the cold blast of
his native skies moaning round his Saxon wolds.
He opened his door, and looked forth. A lanthorn
swung on high from the groined roof of the cor-
ridor. By the lanthorn stood a tall sentry in
arms, and its gleam fell red upon an iron grate
that jealously closed the egress. The Earl closed
the door, and sat down on his bed, covering his
face with his clenched hand. The veins throbbed
in every pulse, his own touch seemed to him like
fire. The prophecies of Hilda on the fatal night by
the bautastein, which had decided him to reject the
prayer of Gurth, the fears of Edith, and the cau-
tions of Edward, came back to him, dark, haunt-
ing, and over-inasteringly. They rose between
him and his sober sense, whenever he sought to
re-collect his thoughts, now to madden him with
the sense of his folly in belief, now to divert his
mind from the perilous present to the triumphant
* Twelve o'Clock.
VOL. III. C
26 HAROLD.
future they foretold ; and of all the varying chaunts
of the Vala, ever two lines seemed to burn into
his memory, and to knell upon his ear as if they
contained the counsel they ordained him to pursue :
" GUILE BY GUILE OPPOSE, and never
Crown and brow shall Force dissever ! "
So there he sat, locked and rigid, not reclining,
not disrobing, till in that posture a haggard,
troubled, fitful sleep came over him ; nor did he
wake till the hour of prime,* when ringing bells
and trampling feet, and the hum of prayer from
the neighbouring chapel, roused him into waking
yet more troubled, and well nigh as dreamy.
But now Godrith and Haco entered the room,
and the former inquired with some surprise in
his tone, if he had arranged with the Duke to
depart that day ; " For," said he, " the Duke's
hors-thegn has just been with me, to say that
the Duke himself, and a stately retinue, are to
accompany you this evening towards Harfleur,
where a ship will be in readiness for our transport ;
and I know that the chamberlain (a courteous
and pleasant man) is going round to my fellow-
* Six A. M .
HAROLD. 27
thegns in your train, with gifts of hawks, and
chains, and broidered palls."
" It is so," said Haco, in answer to Harold's
brightening and appealing eye.
" Go then, at once, Godrith," exclaimed the
Earl bounding to his feet, " have all in order to
part at the first break of the trump. Never, I
ween, did trump sound so cheerily as the blast
that shall announce our return to England.
Haste haste!"
As Godrith, pleased in the Earl's pleasure,
though himself already much fascinated by the
honours he had received and the splendour he had
witnessed, withdrew, Haco said, " Thou hast
taken my counsel, noble kinsman ? "
" Question me not, Haco ! Out of my memory,
all that hath passed here ! "
" Not yet," said Haco, with that gloomy and
intense seriousness of voice and aspect, which was
so at variance with his years, and which impressed
all he said with an indescribable authority. " Not
yet ; for even while the chamberlain went his
round with the parting gifts, I, standing in the
angle of the wall in the yard, heard the Duke's
deep whisper to Roger Bigod, who has the guard
c 2
28 HAROLD.
of the keape, ' Have the men all armed at noon in
the passage below the council-hall, to mount at
the stamp of my foot ; and if then I give thee a
prisoner wonder not, but lodge him ' The Duke
paused ; and Bigod said, * Where my liege?' And
the Duke answered fiercely, * Where? why, where
but in the Tour noirf where but in the cell in
which Malvoisin rotted out his last hour?' Xot
yet, then, let the memory of Xorman wile pass
away ; let the lip guard the freedom still."
All the bright native soul that before Haco
spoke had dawned gradually back on the Earl's
fair face, now closed itself up, as the leaves of a
poisoned flower ; and the pupil of the eye reced-
ing, left to the orb that secret and strange ex-
pression which had baffled all readers of the
heart in the look of his impenetrable father.
" Guile by guile oppose ! " he muttered vaguely ;
then started, clenched his hand, and smiled.
In a few moments, more than the usual levee of
Norman nobles thronged into the room ; and what
with the wonted order of the morning, in the
repast, the church service of tierce, and a cere-
monial visit to Matilda, who confirmed the in-
telligence that all was in preparation for his
HAROLD. 29
departure, and charged him with gifts of her own
needlework to his sister the Queen, and various
messages of gracious nature, the time waxed late
into noon without his having yet seen either
William or Odo.
He was still with Matilda, when the Lords
Fitzosborne and Raoul de Tancarville entered in
full robes of state, and with countenances un-
usually composed and grave, and prayed the Earl
to accompany them into the Duke's presence.
Harold obeyed in silence, not unprepared for
covert danger, by the formality of the counts,
as by the warnings of Haco; but, indeed, un-
divining the solemnity of the appointed snare.
On entering the lofty hall, he beheld William
seated in state; his sword of office in his hand,
his ducal robe on his imposing form, and with that
peculiarly erect air of the head which he assumed
upon all ceremonial occasions.* Behind him stood
* A celebrated antiquary, in his treatise in the Archaeologia on
the authenticity of the Bayeux tapestry, very justly invites at-
tention to the rude attempt of the artist to preserve individuality
in his portraits ; and especially, to the singularly erect bearing
of the Duke, by which he is at once recognised wherever he is
introduced. Less pains are taken with the portrait of Harold ;
but even in that, a certain elegance of proportion, and length of
limb, as well as height of stature, are generally preserved.
30 HAROLD.
Odo of Bayeux, in aube and pallium ; some score
of the Duke's greatest vassals ; and at a little dis-
tance from the throne chair, was what seemed a
table, or vast chest, covered all over with cloth
of gold.
Small time for wonder or self-collection did the
Duke give the Saxon.
" Approach, Harold," said he, in the full tones
of that voice, so singularly effective in command ;
" approach, and without fear, as without regret.
Before this noble assembly all witnesses of thy
faith, and all guarantees of mine I summon
thee to confirm by oath the promises thou hast
made me yesterday ; namely, to aid me to obtain
the kingdom of England on the death of King
Edward, my cousin; to marry my daughter
Adeliza; and to send thy sister hither, that I may
wed her, as we agreed, to one of my worthiest
and prowest counts. Advance thou, Odo, my
brother, and repeat to the noble Earl the Norman
form by which he will take the oath."
Then Odo stood forth by that mysterious recep-
tacle covered with the cloth of gold, and eaid
briefly, " Thou wilt swear, as far as is in thy power,
to fulfil thy agreement with "William, Duke of
HAROLD. 31
the Normans, if thou live, and God aid tliee ;
and in witness of that oath thou wilt lay thy hand
upon the reliquaire," pointing to a small box that
lay on the cloth of gold.
All this was so sudden all flashed so rapidly
upon the Earl, whose natural intellect, however
great, was, as we have often seen, more deliberate
than prompt so thoroughly was the bold heart,
which no siege could have sapped, taken by sur-
prise and guile so paramount through all the
whirl and tumult of his mind, rose the thought of
England irrevocably lost, if he who alone could
save her was in the Norman dungeons so darkly
did all Haco's fears, and his own just suspicions,
quell and master him, that mechanically, dizzily,
dreamily, he laid his hand on the reliquaire, and
repeated, with automaton lips
" If I live, and if God aid me to it !"
Then all the assembly repeated solemnly
"God aid him!"
And suddenly, at a sign from William, Odo and
Raoul de Tancarville raised the gold cloth, and
the Duke's voice bade Harold look below.
As when man descends from the gilded sepul-
chre to the loathsome charnel, so at the lifting of
32 HAROLD.
that cloth, all the dread ghastliness of Death was
revealed. There, from abbey and from church,
from cyst and from shrine, had been collected all
the relics of human nothingness in which super-
stition adored the mementoes of saints divine ;
there lay, pell mell and huddled, skeleton and
mummy the dry dark skin, the white gleaming
bones of the dead, mockingly cased in gold, and
decked with rubies ; there, grim fingers protruded
through the hideous chaos, and pointed towards the
living man ensnared ; there, the skull grinned scoff
under the holy mitre ; and suddenly rushed back,
luminous and searing, upon Harold's memory the
dream long forgotten, or but dimly remembered
in the healthful business of life the gibe and the
wirble of the dead men's bones.
" At that sight," say the Norman chronicles,
" the Earl shuddered and trembled."
" Awful, indeed, thine oath, and natural thine
emotion;" said the Duke, "for in that cyst arc all
those relics which religion deems the holiest in our
land. The dead have heard thine oath, and the
saints even now record it in the halls of heaven !
Cover again the holy bones!"
BOOK X,
THE SACRIFICE ON THE ALTAR.
C 3
BOOK X.
CHAPTER I.
THE good Bishop Aired, now raised to the See
of York, had been summoned from his cathedral
seat by Edward, who had indeed undergone a
severe illness, during the absence of Harold ; and
that illness had been both preceded and followed
by mystical presentiments of the evil days that
were to fall on England after his death. He
had therefore sent for the best and the holiest
prelate in his realm, to advise and counsel with.
The Bishop had returned to his lodging in
London, (which was in a Benedictine Abbey, not
far from the Aldgate) late one evening, from visit-
ing the King at his rural palace of Havering ; and
he Avas seated alone in his cell, musing over an
interview with Edward, which had evidently
much disturbed him, when the door was abruptly
36 HAROLD.
thrown open, and pushing aside in haste the
monk^rho was about formally to announce him,
a man so travel-stained in garb, and of a mien so
flpBordered, rushed in, that Aired gazed at first as
on a stranger, and not till the intruder spoke did
he recognise Harold the Earl. Even then, so
wild was the Earl's eye, so dark his brow, and
so livid his cheek, that it rather seemed the ghost
of the man than the man himself. Closing
tlie door <m the monk, the Earl stood a moment
on the threshold, with a breast heaving with
emotions which he sought in vain to master;
and, as if resigning the effort, he sprang forward,
clasped the prelate's knees, bowed his head on his
lap, and sobbed aloud. The good Bishop, who
had known all the sons of Godwin from their
infancy, and to whom Harold was as dear as his
own child, folding his hands over the Earl's head,
soothingly murmured a benediction.
" No, no," cried the Earl, starting to his feet,
and tossing the dishevelled hair from his eyes,
*' Bless me not yet ! Hear my tale first, and
then say what comfort, what refuge, thy Church
can bestow!"
Hurriedly then the Earl poured forth the dark
IIAROLD. 37
story, already known to the reader, the prison at
Belrem, the detention at William's court, the
fears, the snares, the discourse by the river-side,
the oath over the relics. This told, he continued,
" I found myself in the open air, and knew not,
till the light of the sun smote me, what might have
passed into my soul. I was, before, as a corpse
which a witch raises from the dead, endows with
a spirit not its own passive to her hand life-like,
not living. Then, then it was as if a demon had
passed from my body, laughing scorn at the foul
things it had made the clay do. Oh, father,
father! is there not absolution from this oath, an
oath I dare not keep ? rather perjure myself than
betray my land ! "
The prelate's face was as pale as Harold's, and
it was some moments before he could reply.
" The Church can loose and unloose it is its
delegated authority. But speak on ; what saidst
thou at the last to William ? "
" I know not, remember not aught save these
words. 'Now, then, give me those for whom I
placed myself in thy power ; let me restore Haco
to his fatherland, and Wolnoth to his mother's
kiss, and wend home my way.' And, saints in
38 HAROLD.
heaven ! what was the answer of this caitiff Nor-
man, with his glittering eye and venomed smile ?
* Haco thou shalt have, for he is an orphan, and
*an uncle's love is not so hot as to burn from a
distance ; but Wolnoth, thy mother's son, must
stay with me as a hostage for thine own faith.
Godwin's hostages are released; Harold's hostage
I retain: it is but a form, yet these forms are
the bonds of princes.'
" I looked at him, and his eye quailed. And I
said, ' That is not in the compact.' And William
answered, * No, but it is the seal to it.' Then I
turned from the Duke and I called my brother to
my side, and I said, ' Over the seas have I come
for thee. Mount thy steed and ride by my side,
for I will not leave the land without thee.' And
Wolnoth. answered, * Nay, Duke William tells
me that he hath made treaties with thee, for which
I am still to be the hostage; and Normandy has
grown my home, and I love William as my
lord.' Hot words followed, and Wolnoth, chafed,
refused entreaty and command, and suffered me
to see that his heart was not with England ! O,
mother, mother, how shall I meet thine eye ! So
I returned with Haco. The moment I set foot on
HAROLD. 39
my native England, that moment her form seemed
to arise from the tall cliffs, her voice to speak in
the winds ! All the glamour by which I had
been bound, forsook me ; and I sprang forward in
scorn, above the fear of the dead men's bones.
Miserable overcraft of the snarer ! Had my
simple word alone bound me, or that word been
ratified after slow and deliberate thought, by the
ordinary oaths that appeal to God, far stronger
the bond upon my soul than the mean surprise,
the covert tricks, the insult and the mocking fraud.
But as I rode on, the oath pursued me pale
spectres mounted behind me on my steed, ghastly
fingers pointed from the welkin; and then sud-
denly, O my father I who, sincere in my simple
faith, had, as thou knowest too well, never bowed
submissive conscience to priest and Church
then suddenly I felt the might of some power,
surer guide than that haughty conscience which
had so in the hour of need betrayed me ! Then I
recognised that supreme tribunal, that mediator
between Heaven and man, to which I might come
with the dire secret of my soul, and say, as I say
now, on my bended knee, O father father
bid me die, or absolve me from my oath ! "
40 HAROLD.
Then Aired rose erect, and replied, " Did I need
subterfuge, O son, I would say, that William himself
hath released thy bond, in detaining the hostage
against the spirit of the guilty compact ; that in the
very words themselves of the oath, lies the release
' if God aid thee.' God aids no child to parricide
and thou art England's child ! But all school-
casuistry is here a meanness. Plain is the law,
that oaths extorted by compulsion, through fraud
and in fear, the Church hath the right to loose :
plainer still the law of God and of man, that an
oath to commit crime it is a deadlier sin to keep
than to forfeit. Wherefore, not absolving thee
from the misdeed of a vow that, if trusting more
to God's providence and less to man's vain
strength and dim wit, thou wouldst never have
uttered even for Enghmd's sake leaving her to
the angels ; not, I say, absolving thee from that
sin, but pausing yet to decide what penance and
atonement to fix to its committal, I do in the name
of the Power whose priest I am, forbid thee to fulfil
the oath ; I do release and absolve thee from all
obligation thereto. And if in this I exceed my
authority as Romish priest, I do but accomplish
my duties as living man. To these grey hairs
HAROLD. 41
I take the sponsorship. Before this holy cross,
kneel, O my son, with me, and pray that a life of
truth and virtue may atone the madness of an
hour."
So by the crucifix knelt the warrior and the
priest.
CHAPTER II.
ALL other thought had given way to Harold's
impetuous yearning to throw himself upon the
Church, to hear his doom from the purest and
wisest of its Saxon preachers. Had the prelate
deemed his vow irrefragable, he would have died
the Roman's death, rather than live the traitor's
'ife; and strange indeed was the revolution
created in this man's character, that he, " so self-
dependent," he who had hitherto deemed himself
his sole judge below of cause and action, now felt
the whole life of his life committed to the word of
a cloistered shaveling. All other thought had
given way to that fiery impulse home, mother,
Edith, king, power, policy, ambition ! Till the
weight was from his soul, he was as an outlaw
in his native land. But when the next sun rose,
and that awful burthen was lifted from his heart
HAROLD. 43
and his being \vhen his own calm sense, return-
ing, sanctioned the fiat of the priest, when,
though with deep shame and rankling remorse at
the memory of the vow, he yet felt exonerated,
not from the guilt of having made, but the deadlier
guilt of fulfilling it, all the objects of existence
resumed their natural interest, softened and
chastened, but still vivid in the heart restored to
humanity. But from that time, Harold's stern
philosophy and stoic ethics were shaken to the dust;
re-created, as it were, by the breath of religion,
he adopted its tenets even after the fashion of his
age. The secret of his shame, the error of his
conscience, humbled him. Those unlettered monks
whom he had so despised, how had he lost the
right to stand aloof from their control ! how had
his wisdom, and his strength, and his courage,
met unguarded the hour of temptation !
Yes, might the time come, when England could
spare him from her side ! when he, like Sweyn
the outlaAv, could pass a pilgrim to the Holy
Sepulchre, and there, as the creed of the age
taught, win full pardon for the single lie of his
truthful life, and regain the old peace of his stain-
less conscience !
44 HAROLD.
There are sometimes event and season in tlio
life of man the hardest and most rational, when
he is driven perforce to faith the most implicit and
submissive ; as the storm drives the wings of the
petronel over a measureless sea, till it falls tame,
and rejoicing at refuge, on the sails of some
lonely ship. Seasons when difficulties, against
which reason seems stricken into palsy, leave
him bewildered in dismay when darkness, which
experience cannot pierce, wraps the conscience, as
sudden night wraps the traveller in the desert
when error entangles his feet in its inextricable web
when, still desirous of the right, he sees before
him but a choice of evil ; and the Angel of the
Past, with a flaming sword, closes on him the gates
of the Future. Then, Faith flashes on him, with a
light from the cloud. Then, he clings to Prayer
as a drowning wretch to the plank. Then, that
solemn authority which clothes the Priest, as the in-
terpreter between the soul and the Divinity, seizes
on the heart that trembles with terror and joy ;
then, that mysterious recognition of Atonement,
of (sacrifice, of purifying lustration, (mystery which
lies hid in the core of all religions,) smooths the
frown on the Past, removes the flaming sword
HAROLD. 45
from the Future. The Orestes escapes from the
hounding Furies, and follows the oracle to the
spot where the cleansing dews shall descend on
the expiated guilt.
He who hath never known in himself, nor
marked in another, such strange crisis in human
fate, cannot judge of the strength and the weak-
ness it bestows. But till he can so judge, the
spiritual part of all history is to him a blank
scroll, a sealed volume. He cannot comprehend
what drove the fierce Heathen, cowering and
humbled, into the fold of the Church ; what
peopled Egypt with eremites; what lined the
roads of Europe and Asia with pilgrim homi-
cides; what, in the elder world, while Jove yet
reigned on Olympus, is couched in the dim tra-
ditions of the expiation of Apollo, the joy -god,
descending into Hades ; or why the sinner went
blithe and light-hearted from the healing lustra-
tions of Eleusis. In all these solemn riddles of
the Jove world, and the Christ's, is involved the
imperious necessity that man hath of repentance
and atonement : through their clouds, as a rain-
bow, shines the covenant that reconciles the God
and the man.
46 HAROLD.
Now Life with strong arms plucked the reviving
Harold to itself. Already the news of his return
had spread through the city, and his chamber
soon swarmed with joyous welcomes and anxious
friends. But the first congratulations over, each
had tidings, that claimed his instant attention, to
relate. His absence had sufficed to loosen half the
links of that ill-woven empire.
All the North was in arms. Northumbria had
revolted as one man, from the tyrannous cruelty
of Tostig ; the insurgents had marched upon
York ; Tostig had fled in dismay, none as yet
knew whither. The sons of Algar had sallied
forth from their Mercian fortresses, and were now
in the ranks of the Northumbrians, who it was
rumoured had selected Morcar (the elder,) in the
place of Tostig.
Amidst these disasters, the King's health was
fast decaying; his mind seemed bewildered and
distraught ; dark ravings of bode that had escaped
from his lip in his mystic reveries and visions, had
spread abroad, bandied with all natural exaggera-
tions, from lip to lip. The country was in one
state of gloomy and vague apprehension.
But all would go well, now Harold the great
HAROLD. 47
Earl Harold the stout, and the wise, and the
loved had come back to his native land !
In feeling himself thus necessary to England,
all eyes, all hopes, all hearts turned to him, and
to him alone, Harold shook the evil memories
from his soul, as a lion shakes the dews from his
mane. His intellect, that seemed to have burned
dim and through smoke in scenes unfamiliar to
its exercise, rose at once equal to the occasion.
His words reassured the most despondent. His
orders were prompt and decisive. While, to and
fro, Avent forth his bodes and his riders, he him-
self leaped on his horse, and rode fast to Ha-
vering.
At length, that sweet and lovely retreat broke
on his sight, as a bower through the bloom of a
garden. This was Edward's favourite abode : he
had built it himself for his private devotions,
allured by its woody solitudes and the gloom of
its copious verdure. Here it was said, that once
at night, wandering through the silent glades,
and musing on heaven, the loud song of the
nightingales had disturbed his devotions; with
vexed and impatient soul, he had prayed that the
music might be stilled : and since then, never
48 HAROLD.
more the nightingale was heard in the shades of
Havering.
Threading the woodland, melancholy yet glorious
with the hues of autumn, Harold reached the low
and humble gate of the timber edifice, all covered
with creepers and young ivy ; and in a few mo-
ments more he stood in the presence of the King.
Edward raised himself with pain from the couch
on which he was reclined,* beneath a canopy
supported by columns and surmounted by carved
symbols of the bell towers of Jerusalem ; and
his languid face brightened at the sight of
Harold. Behind the King stood a man with
a Danish battle-axe in his hand, the captain of
the royal house-carles, who, on a sign from the
King, withdrew.
" Thou art come back, Harold," said Edward
then, in a feeble voice; and the Earl drawing
near, was grieved and shocked at the alteration
of his face. "Thou art come back, to aid this
benumbed hand, from which the earthly sceptre
is about to fall. Hush ! for it is so, and I rejoice."
Then examining Harold's features, yet pale with
recent emotions, and now saddened by sympathy
* Bayeux Tapestry.
HAROLD. 49
with the King, he resumed : " Well, man of this
Avorld, that went forth confiding in thine own
strength, and in the faith of men of the world
like thee, well, were my warnings prophetic, or
art thou contented with thy mission?"
" Alas ! " said Harold, mournfully. Thy
wisdom was greater than mine, O King ; and
dread the snares laid for me and our native land,
under pretext of a promise made by thee to Count
William, that he should reign in England, should
he be your survivor."
Edward's face grew troubled and embarrassed.
" Such promise," he said falteringly, " when I
knew not the laws of England, nor that a realm
could not pass like house and hyde, by a man's
single testament, might well escape from my
thoughts, never too bent upon earthly affairs.
But I marvel not that my cousin's mind is more
tenacious and mundane. And verily, in those
vague words, and from thy visit, I see the Future
dark with fate and crimson with blood."
Then Edward's eyes grew locked and set,
staring into space ; and even that reverie, though
it awed him, relieved Harold of much dis-
quietude, for he rightly conjectured, that on
VOL. III. D
50 HAROLD.
waking from it, Edward would press him no
more as to those details, and dilemmas of con-
science, of which he felt that the arch-worshipper
of relics was no fitting judge.
"When the King, with a heavy sigh, evinced
return from the world of vision, he stretched forth
to Harold his wan, transparent hand, and said:
" Thou seest the ring on this finger ; it comes
to me from above, a merciful token to prepare
my soul for death. Perchance thou mayest have
heard that once an aged pilgrim stopped me on
my way from God's House, and asked for alms
and I, having nought else on my person to bestow,
drew from my finger a ring, and gave it to him, and
the old man went his way, blessing me."
"I mind me well of thy gentle charity." suiu
the Earl ; " for the pilgrim bruited it abroad as
he passed, and much talk was there of it."
The King smiled faintly. "Now this wa
years ago. It so chanced this year, that certaii.
Englishers, on their way from the Holy Land,
fell in with two pilgrims and these last ques-
tioned them much of me. And one, with face
venerable and benign, drew forth a ring and said,
* "When thou reachest England, give thou this to
HAROLD. 1
the King's own hand, and say, by this token, that
on Twelfth-Day Eve he shall be with nie. For
what he gave to me, will I prepare recompense
without bound; and already the saints deck for
the new comer the halls where the worm never
gnaws and the moth never frets.' ' And who,'
asked my subjects amazed, ' who, shall we say,
speaketh thus to us ? ' And the pilgrim answered,
* He on whose breast leaned the Son of God,
and my name is John!'* "Wherewith the appa-
rition vanished. This is the ring I gave to the
pilgrim; on the fourteenth night from thy parting,
miraculously returned to me. Wherefore, Harold,
my time here is brief, and I rejoice that thy
coming delivers me up from the cares of state to
the preparation of my soul for the joyous day.'"
Harold, suspecting under this incredible mission
some wily device of the Norman, who, by thus
warning Edward, (of whose precarious health he
was well aware,) might induce his timorous con-
science to take steps for the completion of the
old promise, Harold, we say, thus suspecting,
* AIL. de Vit. Edw. Many other chroniclers mention this legend ,
of which the stones of Westminster Abley itself prated, in the
statues of Edward and the Pilgrim, placed over the arch in
Dean's Yard.
D 2
52 HAROLD.
in vain endeavoured to combat the King's pre-
sentiments, but Edward interrupted him, with
displeased firmness of look and tone :
" Come not thou, with thy human reasonings,
between my soul and the messenger divine ;
but rather nerve and prepare thyself for the
dire calamities that lie greeding in the days to
come ! Be thine, things temporal. All the land
is in rebellion. Anlaf, whom thy coming dis-
missed, hath just wearied me with sad tales of
bloodshed and ravage. Go and hear him; go
hear the bodes of thy brother Tostig, who wait
without in our hall; go, take axe, and take
shield, and the men of earth's war, and do justice
and right ; and on thy return thou shalt see with
what rapture sublime a Christian King can soar
aloft from his throne ! Go ! "
More moved, and more softened, than in the
former day he had been with Edward's sincere,
if fanatical piety, Harold, turning aside to conceal
his face, said,
" Would, O royal Edward, that my heart,
amidst worldly cares, were as pure and serene as
thine ! But what at least erring mortnl may do
to guard this realm, and face the evils thou fore-
HAROLD. 53
seest in the Far that will I do ; and, perchance
then, in iny dying hour, God's pardon and peace
may descend on nie ! " He spoke, and went.
The accounts he received from Anlaf, (a vete-
ran Anglo-Dane,) were indeed more alarming than
he had yet heard. Morcar, the bold son of Algar,
was already proclaimed, by the rebels, Earl of
Northumbria ; the shires of Nottingham, Derby,
and Lincoln, had poured forth their hardy Dane
populations on his behalf. All Mercia was in
arms under his brother Edwin ; and many of the
Cymrian chiefs had already joined the ally of the
butchered Gryffyth.
Not a moment did the Earl lose in proclaiming
the Her-bann ; sheaves of arrows were splintered,
and the fragments, as announcing the "War-Fyrd,
were sent from thegn to thegn, and town to
town. Fresh messengers were despatched to
Gurth to collect the whole force of his own earl-
dom, and haste by quick marches to London;
and, these preparations made, Harold returned
to the metropolis, and with a heavy heart sought
his mother, as his next care.
Githa was already prepared for his news ; for
Haco had of his own accord s^one to break the
54 HAROLD.
first shock of disappointment. There was in this
youth a noiseless sagacity that seemed ever pro-
vident for Harold. With his sombre, smileless
cheek, and gloom of beauty, bowed as if beneath
the weight of some invisible doom, he had already
become linked indissolubly with the Earl's fate,
as its angel, but as its angel of darkness !
To Harold's intense relief, Githa stretched forth
her hands as he entered, and said, " Thou hast
failed me, but against thy will! Grieve not; I
am content !"
" Now our Lady be blessed, mother "
" I have told her," said Haco, who was standing,
with arms folded, by the fire, the blaze of which
reddened fitfully his hueless countenance with its
raven hair ; " I have told thy mother that Wolnoth
loves his captivity, and enjoys the cage. And the
lady hath had comfort in my words."
** Not in thine only, son of Sweyn, but in those
of fate: for before thy coming I prayed against
the long blind yearning of my heart, prayed that
Wolnoth might not cross the sea with his kinsmen."
" How!" exclaimed the Earl, astonished.
Githa took his arm, and led him to the farther
end of the ample chamber, as if out of the hearing
HAROLD. 55
of Haco, who turned his face towards the fire,
and gazed into the fierce blaze with musing, un-
winking eyes.
" Couldst thou think, Harold, that in thy jour-
ney, that on the errand of so great fear and hope,
I could sit brooding in my chair, and count the
stitches on the tremulous hangings ? No ; day by
day Kave I sought the lore of Hilda, and at night
I have watched with her by the fount, and the
elm, and the tomb; and I know that thou hast
gone through dire peril ; the prison, the war, and
the snare ; and I know also, that his Fylgia hath
saved the life of my Wolnoth; for had he re-
turned to his native land, he had returned but to
a bloody grave ! "
" Says Hilda this?" said the Earl, thoughtfully.
" So say the Vala, the rune, and the Scin-laeca!
and such is the doom that now darkens the brow
of Haco ! Seest thou not that the hand of death
is in the hush of the smileless lip, and the glance
of the unjoyous eye?"
" Nay, it is but the thought born to captive
youth, and, nurtured in solitary dreams. Thou
hast seen Hilda ? and Edith, my mother ? Edith
M
is
56 HAROLD.
" Well," said Githa kindly, for she sympa-
thized with that love which Godwin would have
condemned, " though she grieved deeply after thy
departure, and would sit for hours gazing into
space, and moaning. But even ere Hilda di-
vined thy safe return, Edith knew it ; I was be-
side her at the time ; she started up, and cried
' Harold is in England !'< How ? Why thinkest
thou so ?' said I. And Edith answered, * I feel it
by the touch of the earth, by the breath of the air.'
This is more than love, Harold. I knew two twins
who had the same instinct of each other's comings
and goings, and were present each to each even
when absent : Edith is twin to thy soul. Thou goest
to her now, Harold: thou wilt find there thy sister
Thyra. The child hath drooped of late, and I be-
sought Hilda to revive her, with herb and charm.
Thou wilt come back, ere thou departest to aid
Tostig thy brother, and tell me how Hilda hath
prospered with my ailing child ?"
" I will, my mother. Be cheered ! Hilda is a
skilful nurse. And now bless thee, that thou hast
not reproached me that my mission failed to fulfil
my promise. Welcome even our kinswoman's
HAROLD. 57
sayings, sith they comfort thee for the loss of thy
darling !"
Then Harold left the room, mounted his steed,
and rode through the town towards the bridge.
He was compelled to ride slowly through the
streets, for he was recognised ; and cheapman and
mechanic rushed from house and from stall to hail
the Man of the Land and the Time.
" All is safe now in England, for Harold is come
back !" They seemed joyous as the children of the
mariner, when, with wet garments, he struggles to
shore through the storm. And kind and loving
were Harold's looks and brief words, as he rode
with vailed bonnet through the swarming streets.
At length he cleared the town and the bridge ;
and the yellowing boughs of the orchards drooped
over the road towards the Roman home, when,
as he spurred his steed, he heard behind him hoofs as
in pursuit, looked back, and beheld Haco. He drew
rein, " What wantest thou, my nephew?''
" Thee!" answered Haco, briefly, as he gained
his side. " Thy companionship."
" Thanks, Haco ; but I pray thee to stay in
my mother's house, for I would fain ride alone."
" Spurn me not from thee, Harold ! This
D 3
58 HAROLD.
England is to me the land of the stranger ; in thy
mother's house I feel but the more the orphan.
Henceforth I have devoted to thee my life ! And
my life my dead and dread father hath left to
thee, as a doom or a blessing ; wherefore cleave
I to thy side ; cleave we in life and in death to
each other ! "
A certain cheerless thrill shot through the
Earl's heart as the youth spoke thus; and the
remembrance that Haco'a counsel had first in-
duced him to abandon his natural hardy and
gallant manhood, meet wile by wile, and thus
suddenly entangled him in his own meshes, had
already mingled an inexpressible bitterness with
his pity and affection for his brother's son. But,
struggling against that uneasy sentiment, as unjust
towards one to whose counsel however sinister,
and now repented he probably owed, at least, his
safety and deliverance, he replied gently,
" I accept thy trust, and thy love, Haco ! Ride
with me, then ; but pardon a dull comrade, for when
the soul communes with itself the lip is silent."
"True," said Haco, "and I am no babbler.
Three things are ever silent : Thought, Destiny,
and the Grave."
HAROLD. 59
Each, then, pursuing his own fancies, rode on
fast, and side by side ; the long shadows of de-
clining day struggling with a sky of unusual
brightness, and thrown from the dim forest trees
D *
and the distant hillocks. Alternately through
shade and through light rode they on ; the bulls
gazing on them from holt and glade, and the
boom of the bittern sounding in its peculiar
mournfulness of tone as it rose from the dank
pools that glistened in the western sun.
It was always by the rear of the house, where
stood the ruined temple, so associated with the
romance of his life, that Harold approached the
home of the Vala; and as now the hillock, with its
melancholy diadem of stones, came in view, Haco
for the first time broke the silence.
" Again as in a dream ! " he said abruptly.
" Hill, ruin, grave-mound but where the tall
image of the mighty one ? "
" Hast thou then seen this spot before ? " asked
the Earl.
" Yea, as an infant here was I led by my
father Sweyn ; here too, from thy house yonder,
dim seen through the fading leaves, on the eve
before I left this land for the Norman, here did
60 I1AROLD.
I wander alone ; and there, by that altar, did the
great Vala of the North chaunt her runes for
my future."
" Alas ! thou too !" murmured Harold ; and
then he asked aloud, " What said she ? "
" That thy life and mine crossed each other in
the skein ; that I should save thee from a great
peril, and share with thee a greater."
" Ah, youth," answered Harold bitterly, " these
vain prophecies of human wit guard the soul from
no danger. They mislead us by riddles which
our hot hearts interpret according to their own
desires. Keep thou fast to youth's simple wisdom,
and trust only to the pure spirit and the watchful
God."
He suppressed a groan as he spoke, and
springing from his steed, which he left loose,
advanced up the hill. When he had gained the
height, he halted, and made sign to Haco, who
had also dismounted, to do the same. Half way
down the side of the slope which faced the ruined
peristyle, Haco beheld a maiden, still young, and
of beauty surpassing all that the court of Nor-
mandy boasted of female loveliness. She was
seated on the sward ; while a girl younger, and
HAROLD. 6 1
scarcely indeed grown into womanhood, reclined
at her feet, and leaning her cheek upon her hand,
seemed hushed in listening attention. In the face
of the younger girl Haco recognised Thyra, the
last-born of Githa, though he had but once seen
her before the day ere he left England for the
Norman court for the face of the girl was but
little--changed, save that the eye was more mourn-
ful, and the cheek was paler.
And Harold's betrothed was singing, in the still
autumn air, to Harold's sister. The song chosen
was on that subject the most popular with the
Saxon poets, the mystic life, death, and resurrec-
tion of the fabled Phrenix ; and this rhymeless
song, in its old native flow, may yet find some
grace in the modern ear.
THE LAY OP THE PHCENIX.*
" Shineth far hence so
Sing the wise elders
Far to the fire-east
The fairest of lands.
* This ancient Saxon lay, apparently of the date of the tenth
or eleventh century, may be found, admirably translated by Mr.
George Stephens, in the Archseologia, vol. xxx. p. 259. In the
62 HAROLD.
" Daintily dight is that
Dearest of joy fields ;
Breezes all balm-y-fill'd
Glide through its groves.
" There to the blest, ope
The high doors of heaven,
Sweetly sweep earthward
Their wavelets of song.
" Frost robes the sward not,
Rusheth no hail-steel ;
Wind-cloud ne'er wanders,
Ne'er falleth the rain.
"Warding the woodholt,
Girt with gay wonder,
Sheen with the plumy shine,
Phoenix abides.
" Lord of the Lleod,*
Whose home is the air,
Winters a thousand
Abideth the bird.
text, the poem is much abridged, reduced into rhythm, and
in some stanzas wholly altered from the original. But it is,
nevertheless, greatly indebted to Mr. Stephens's translation, from
which several lines are borrowed verbatim. The more careful
reader will note the great aid given to a rhymeless metre by
"ii it- ration. I am not sure that this old Saxon mode of verse
might not be profitably restored to our national muse.
* People.
HAROLD. 63
" Hapless and heavy then
Waxeth the hazy wing ;
Year-worn and old in the
Whirl of the earth.
" Then the high holt-top,
Mounting, the bird soars ;
There, where the winds sleep,
He buildeth a nest ;
" Gums the most precious, and
Balms of the sweetest,
Spices and odours, he
Weaves in the nest.
" There, in that sun-ark, lo,
Waiteth he wistful ;
Summer conies smiling, lo,
Rays smite the pile !
" Burdened with eld-years, and
Weary with slow time,
Slow in his odour-nest
Burneth the bird.
" Up from those ashes, then,
Springeth a rare fruit ;
Deep in the rare fruit
There coileth a worm.
64 HAROLD.
" Weaving bliss-meshes
Around and around it,
Silent and blissful, the
Worm worketh on.
" Lo, from the airy web
Blooming and brightsome,
Young and exulting, the
Phoenix breaks forth.
" Round him the birds troop,
Singing and hailing ;
AVings of all glories
Engarland the king.
" Hymning and hailing,
Through forest and sun-air,
Hymning and hailing,
And speaking him ' King.'
" High flies the phoenix,
Escaped from the worm-web ;
He soars in the sunlight,
He bathes in the dew.
" He visits his old haunts,
The holt and the sun-hill ;
The founts of his youth, and
The fields of his love.
HAROLD. 65
" The stars in the welkin,
The blooms on the earth,
Are glad in his gladness,
Are young in his youth.
" While round him the birds troop, the
Hosts of the Himmel,*
Blisses of music, and
Glories of wings ;
" Hymning and hailing,
And filling the sun-air
With music, and glory,
And praise of the King."
As the lay ceased, Thyra said,
" Ah, Edith, who would not brave the funeral
pyre to live again like the phoenix ! "
" Sweet sister mine," answered Edith, " the
singer doth mean to image out in the phoenix the
rising of our Lord, in whom we all live again."
And Thyra said mournfully,
" But the phoenix sees once more the haunts
of his youth the things and places dear to him
in his life before. Shall we do the same, O
Edith ? "
* Heaven.
66 HAROLD.
" It is the persons we love that make beautiful
the haunts we have known," answered the be-
trothed. Those persons at least we shall behold
again, and wherever they are there is heaven."
Harold could restrain himself no longer. With
one bound he was at Edith's side, and with one
wild cry of joy he clasped her to his heart.
" I knew that thou wouldst come to-night I
knew it, Harold," murmured the betrothed.
CHAPTER III.
*
WHILE, full of themselves, Harold and Edith
wandered, hand in hand, through the neighbouring
glades while into that breast which had fore-
stalled, at least, in this pure and sublime union, the
wife's privilege to soothe and console, the troubled
man poured out the tale of the sole trial from
which he had passed with defeat and shame,
Haco drew near to Thyra, and sate down by
her side. Each was strangely attracted towards
the other ; there was something congenial in the
gloom which they shared in common ; though in
the girl the sadness was soft and resigned, in the
youth it was stern and solemn. They conversed
in whispers, and their talk was strange for com-
panions so young; for, whether suggested by
Edith's song, or the neighbourhood of the Saxon
grave-stone, which gleamed on their eyes, grey
G8 HAROLD.
and wan, through the crommcll, the theme they
selected was of death. As if fascinated, as chil-
dren often are, by the terrors of the Dark King,
they dwelt on those images with which the
northern fancy has associated the eternal rest,
on the shroud and the worm, and the mouldering
bones on the gibbering ghost, and the sorcerer's
spell, that could call the spectre from the grave.
They talked of the pain of the parting soul,
parting while earth was yet fair, youth fresh, and
joy not yet ripened from the blossom of the
wistful lingering look which the glazing eyes
would give to the latest sunlight it should behold
on earth; and then pictured the shivering and
naked soul, forced from the reluctant clay, wan-
dering through cheerless space to the intermediate
tortures, which the Church taught that none were
so pure as not for a while to undergo ; and hearing,
as it wandered, the knell of the muffled bells and
the burst of unavailing prayer. At length Haco
paused abruptly, and said,
" But thou, cousin, hast before thee love and
sweet life, and these discourses are not for thce."
Thyra shook her head mournfully,
" Xot so, Haco; for when Hilda consulted the
HAROLD. 69
runes, while, last night, she mingled the herbs for
my pain, which rests ever hot and sharp here,"
and the girl laid her hand on her breast, " I saw
that her face grew dark and overcast ; and I felt,
as I looked, that my doom was set. And when
thou didst come so noiselessly to my side, with
thy sad, cold eyes, O Haco, methought I saw the
Messenger of Death. But thou art strong, Haco,
and life will be long for thee ; let us talk of life."
Haco stooped down and pressed his lips upon
the girl's pale forehead.
"Kiss me too, Thyra."
The child kissed him, and they sate silent and
close by each other while the sun set.
And as the stars rose, Harold and Edith joined
them. Harold's face was serene in the starlight,
for the pure soul of his betrothed had breathed
peace into his own ; and, in his willing super-
stition, he felt as if, now restored to his guardian
angel, the dead men's bones had released their
unhallowed hold.
But suddenly Edith's hand trembled in his, and
her form shuddered. Her eyes were fixed upon
those of Haco.
" Forgive me, young kinsman, that I forgot thee
70 HAROLD.
so long," said the Earl. " This is my brother's
son, Edith ; thou hast not, that I remember, seen
him before?"
" Yes, yes ;" said Edith falteringly.
"When, and where?"
Edith's soul answered the question, " In a
dream;" but her lips were silent.
And Haco, rising, took her by the hand, while
the Earl turned to his sister that sister whom he
was pledged to send to the Norman court ; and
Thyra said plaintively,
" Take me in thine arms, Harold, and wrap
thy mantle round me, for the air is cold."
The Earl lifted the child to his breast, and
gazed on her cheek long and wistfully; then
questioning her tenderly, he took her within the
house ; and Edith followed with Haco.
" Is Hilda within ? " asked the son of Sweyn.
" Nay, she hath been in the forest since noon,"
answered Edith with an effort, for she could not
recover her awe of his presence.
"Then," said Haco, halting at the threshold,
"I will go across the woodland to your house,
Harold, and prepare your ceorls for your coming."
" I shall tarry here till Hilda returns," an-
HAHOLD. 7 1
swered Harold," and it may be late in the night
ere I reach home ; but Sexwulf already hath my
orders. At sunrise we return to London, and
thence we march on the insurgents."
"All shall be ready. Farewell, noble Edith;
and thou, Thyra my cousin, one kiss more to our
meeting again."
The child fondly held out her arms to him, and
as she kissed his cheek, whispered,
"In the grave, Haco !"
The young man drew his mantle around him,
and moved away. But he did not mount his
steed, which still grazed by the road ; while
Harold's, more familiar with the place, had found its
way to the stall ; nor did he take his path through
the glades to the house of his kinsman. Entering
the Druid temple, he stood musing by the Teuton
tomb.
The night grew deep and deeper, the stars
more luminous, and the air more hushed, when a
voice close at his side, said clear and abrupt,
" What does Youth the restless, by Death the
still?"
It was the peculiarity of Haco, that nothing
ever seemed to startle or surprise him. In that
72 HAROLD.
brooding boyhood, the solemn, quiet, and sad ex-
perience, all fore-armed, of age, had something in
it terrible and preternatural; so, without lifting
his eyes from the stone, at the unexpected voice,
he answered,
" How sayest thou, O Hilda, that the dead are
still?"
Hilda placed her hand on his shoulder, and
stooped to look into his face.
" Thy rebuke is just, son of Sweyn. In Time,
and in the Universe, there is no stillness ! Through
all eternity the state impossible to the soul is
repose! So again thou art in thy native land?"
" And for what end, Prophetess ? I remember,
when but an infant, who till then had enjoyed
the common air and the daily sun, thou didst rob
me evermore of childhood and youth. For thou
didst say to my father, that ' dark was the woof
of my fate, and that its most glorious hour should
be its last I'"
" But thou wert surely too childlike, (I see thee
now as thou wert then, stretched on the grass,
and playing with thy father's falcon) too childlike
to heed my words."
" Does the new ground reject the germs of the
HAROLD. 73
sower, or the young heart the first lessons of
wonder and awe ? Since then, Prophetess, Night
hath been my comrade, and Death my familiar.
Rememberest thou again the hour when, stealing,
a boy, from Harold's house in his absence the
night ere I left my land I stood on this mound
by thy side ? Then did I tell thee that the sole
soft thought that relieved the bitterness of my
soul, when all the rest of my kinsfolk seemed to
behold in me but the heir of Sweyn, the outlaw
and homicide, was the love that I bore to Harold ;
but that that love itself was mournful and bodeful
as the hwata* of distant sorrow. And thou didst
take me, O Prophetess, to thy bosom, and thy cold
kiss touched my lips and my brow; and there,
beside this altar and grave-mound, by leaf and by
water, by staff and by song, thou didst bid me
take comfort ; for that as the mouse gnawed the
toils of the lion, so the exile obscure should deliver
from peril the pride and the prince of my House
that, from that hour with the skein of his fate
should mine be entwined ; and his fate was that
of kings and of kingdoms. And then, when the
joy flushed my cheek, and methought youth came
* Omen.
VOL. III. E
74 HAROLD.
back in warmth to the night of my soul then,
Hilda, I asked thee if my life would be spared till
I had redeemed the name of my father. Thy seid-
staffpassed over the leaves that, burning with fire-
sparks, symbolled the life of the man, and from the
third leaf the flame leaped up and died ; and again
a voice from thy breast, hollow, as if borne from a
hill-top afar, made answer, { At thine entrance to
manhood, life bursts into blaze, and shrivels up
into ashes.' So I knew that the doom of the
infant still weighed unannealed on the years of
the man ; and I come here to my native land as
to glory and the grave. But," said the young
man, with a wild enthusiasm, " still with mine
links the fate which is loftiest in England ; and
the rill and the river shall rush in one to the
Terrible Sea."
" I know not that," answered Hilda, pale, as if
in awe of herself; " for never yet hath the rune,
or the fount, or the tomb, revealed to me clear
and distinct the close of the great course of
Harold ; only know I through his own stars his
glory and greatness ; and where glory is dim, and
greatness is menaced, I know it but from the stars
of others, the rays of whose influence interblend
HAROLD. 75
with his own. So long, at least, as the fair and
the pure one keeps watch in the still House of
Life, the dark and the troubled one cannot wholly
prevail. For Edith is given to Harold as the
Fylgia, that noiselessly blesses and saves : and
thou " Hilda checked herself, and lowered her
hood over her face, so that it suddenly became
invisible.
"And I?" asked Haco, moving near to her
side.
"Away, son of Sweyn; thy feet trample the
grave of the mighty dead ! "
Then Hilda lingered no longer, but took her
way towards the house. Haco's eye followed her
in silence. The cattle, grazing in the great space
of the crumbling peristyle, looked up as she
passed; the watch dogs, wandering through the
star-lit columns, came snorting round their mis-
tress. And when she had vanished within the
house, Haco turned to his steed,
"What matters," he murmured, "the answer
which the Vala cannot or dare not give ? To me
is not destined the love of w r oman, nor the am-
bition of life. All I know of human affection
binds me to Harold ; all I know of human ambi-
E 2
76 HAROLD.
tion is to share in his fate. This love is strong as
hate, and terrible as doom, it is jealous, it admits
no rival As the shell and the sea-weed inter-
laced together, we are dashed on the rushing
surge; whither? oh, whither?"
CHAPTER IV.
"I TELL thee, Hilda," said the Earl, impa-
tiently, " I tell thee that I renounce henceforth all
faith save in Him whose ways are concealed from
our eyes. Thy seid and thy galdra have not
guarded me against peril, nor armed me against
sin. Nay, perchance but peace : I will no more
tempt the dark art, I will no more seek to
disentangle the awful truth from the juggling
lie. All so foretold me I will seek to forget,
hope from no prophecy, fear from no warning.
Let the soul go to the Future under the shadow
of God!"
" Pass on thy way as thou wilt, its goal is the
same, whether seen or unmarked. Peradventure
thou art wise," said the Vala gloomily.
" For my country's sake, heaven be my witness,
not my own," resumed the Earl, " I have blotted
my conscience and sullied my truth. My country
78 HAROLD.
alone can redeem me, by taking my life as a thing
hallowed evermore to her service. Selfish ambi-
tion do I lay aside, selfish power shall tempt me
no more; lost is the charm that I beheld in a
throne, and, save for Edith
"Itfo! not even for Edith," cried the betrothed,
advancing, " not even for Edith shalt thou listen
to other voice than that of thy country and thy
soul."
The Earl turned round abruptly, and his eyes
were moist.
" O Hilda," he cried, " see henceforth my only
Vala ; let that noble heart alone interpret to us the
oracles of the future."
The next day Harold returned with Haco and
a numerous train of Ms house-carles to the city.
Their ride was as silent as that of the day before ;
but on reaching Southwark, Harold turned away
from the bridge towards the left, gained the river
side, and dismounted at the house of one of his liths-
men, (a frankling, or freed ceorl.) Leaving there
his horse, he summoned a boat, and, with Haco,
was rowed over towards the fortified palace which
then rose towards the west of London, jutting
into the Thames, and which seems to have formed
HAROLD. 79
the outwork of the old Roman city. The palace,
of remotest antiquity, and blending all work and
architecture, Eoman, Saxon, and Danish, had
been repaired by Canute ; and from a high window
in the upper story, where were the royal apart-
ments, the body of the traitor Edric Streone (the
founder of the house of Godwin) had been
thrown into the river.
"Whither go we, Harold?" asked the son of
Sweyn.
" We go to visit the young Atheling, the
natural heir to the Saxon throne," replied Harold
in a firm voice. " He lodges in the old palace
of our kings."
" They say in Normandy that the boy is imbe-
cile."
" That is not true," returned Harold. "I will
present thee to him, judge."
Haco mused a moment and said,
"Methinks I divine thy purpose; is it not
formed on the sudden, Harold ?"
" It was the counsel of Edith," answered
Harold, with evident emotion. " And yet, if that
counsel prevail, I may lose the power to soften
the Church and to call her mine."
60 HAROLD.
" So thou wouldest sacrifice even Edith for thy
country?"
" Since I have sinned, methinks I could," said
the proud man humbly.
The boat shot into a little creek, or rather canal,
which then ran inland, beside the black and
rotting walls of the fort. The two Earl-born
leapt ashore, passed under a Roman arch, entered
a court the interior of which was rudely filled up
by early Saxon habitations of rough timber work,
already, since the time of Canute, falling into
decay, (as all things did which came under the
care of Edward,) and mounting a stair that ran
along the outside of the house, gained a low
narrow door, which stood open. In the passage
within were one or two of the King's house-carles,
who had been assigned to the young Atheling, with
liveries of blue and Danish axes, and some four
or five German servitors, who had attended his
father from the Emperor's court. One of these
last ushered the noble Saxons into a low, forlorn
ante-hall; and there, to Harold's surprise, he
found Aired the Archbishop of York, and three
thegns of high rank, and of lineage ancient and
purely Saxon.
HAROLD. 8 1
Aired approached Harold with a faint smile on
his benign face:
" Methinks, and may I think aright, thou
comest hither with the same purpose as myself,
and yon noble thegns."
" And that purpose ?"
" Is to see and to judge calmly if, despite his
years, AVC may find in the descendant of the Iron-
sides such a prince as we may commend to our
decaying King as his heir, and to the Witan as a
chief fit to defend the land."
" Thou speakest the cause of my own coming.
With your ears will I hear, with your eyes will I
see ; as ye judge, will judge I," said Harold, draw-
ing the prelate towards the thegns, so that they
might hear his answ r er.
The chiefs, who belonged to a party that had
often opposed Godwin's House, had exchanged
looks of fear and trouble when- Harold entered ;
but at his words their frank faces showed equal
surprise and pleasure.
Harold presented to them his nephew, with
whose grave dignity of bearing beyond his years
they were favourably impressed, though the good
bishop sighed when he saw in his face the sombre
E 3
82 HAROLD.
beauty of the guilty sire. The group then con-
versed anxiously on the declining health of the
King, the disturbed state of the realm, and the
expediency, if possible, of uniting all suffrages in
favour of the fittest successor. And in Harold's
voice and manner, as in Harold's heart, there was
nought that seemed conscious of his own mighty
stake and just hopes in that election. But as time
wore, the faces of the thegns grew overcast ;
proud men and great satraps* were they, and they
liked it ill that the boy prince kept them so long
in the dismal ante-room.
At length the German officer, who had gone to
announce their coming, returned; and in words,
intelligible indeed from the affinity between
Saxon and German, but still disagreeably foreign
to English ears, requested them to follow him
into the presence of the Atheling.
In a room still retaining the rude splendour
with which it had been invested by Canute, a
handsome boy, about the age of thirteen or four-
teen, but seeming much younger, was engaged in
* The Eastern word Satraps (Satrapr.s) made one of the ordi-
nary and most inappropriate titles, (borrowed, no doubt, from
the Byzantian Court,) by which the Saxons, in their Latinity,
honoured their simple nobles.
HAROLD. 83
the construction of a stuffed bird, a lure for a
young hawk that stood blindfold on its perch.
The employment made so habitual a part of
the serious education of youth, that the thegns
smoothed their brows at the sight, and deemed
the boy worthily occupied. At another end of
the room, a grave Norman priest was seated at
a table on which were books and writing imple-
ments ; he was the tutor commissioned by
Edward to teach Norman tongue and saintly
lore to the Atheling. A profusion of toys strewed
the floor, and some children of Edgar's own age
were playing with them. His little sister Mar-
garet* was seated seriously, apart from all the
other children, and employed in needle-work.
When Aired approached the Atheling, with a
blending of reverent obeisance and paternal cor-
diality, the boy carelessly cried, in a barbarous
jargon, half German, half Norman-French,
" There, come not too near, you scare my
hawk. What are you doing ? You trample my
toys, which the good Norman bishop William
* Afterwards married to Malcolm of Scotland, through whom
by the female line, the present royal dynasty of England assume
descent from the Anglo-Saxon kings.
84 II A HOLD.
sent me as a gift from the Duke. Art tliou
blind, man?"
" My son," said the prelate kindly, " these are
the things of childhood childhood ends sooner
with princes than with common men. Leave thy
lure and thy toys, and welcome these noble thegns,
and address them, so please you, in our own Saxon
tongue."
" Saxon tongue ! language of villeins ! not I.
Little do I know of it, save to scold a ceorl or
a nurse. King Edward did not tell me to learn
Saxon, but Xorman ; and Godfroi yonder says,
that if I know Norman well, Duke William will
make me his knight. But I don't desire to learn
anything more to-day." And the child turned
peevishly from thegn and prelate.
The three Saxon lords interchanged looks of
profound displeasure and proud disgust. But
Harold, with an effort over himself, approached,
and said winningly,
" Edgar the Atheling, thou art not so young
but thou knowest already that the great live for
others. Wilt thou not be proud to live for this
fair country, and these noble men, and to speak
the language of Alfred the Great ?"
HAROLD. 85
" Alfred the Great! they always weary me
with Alfred the Great," said the boy, pouting.
" Alfred the Great, he is the plague of my life !
If I am Atheling, men are to live for me, not I for
them ; and if you tease me any more, I will run
away to Duke William in Rouen ; Godfroi says
I shall never be teased there !"
So saying, already tired of hawk and lure, the
child threw himself on the floor with the other
children, and snatched the toys from their hands.
The serious Margaret then rose quietly, and
went to her brother, and said, in good Saxon,
" Fie ! if you behave thus, I shall call you
NIDDERING !"
At the threat of that word, the vilest in the
language that word which the lowest ceorl would
forfeit life rather than endure a threat applied to
the Atheling of England, the descendant of Saxon
heroes the three thegns drew close, and watched
the boy, hoping to see that he would start to his
feet with wrath and in shame."
" Call me what you will, silly sister," said the
child, indifferently, " I am not so Saxon as to care
for your ceorlish Saxon names."
" Enow," cried the proudest and greatest of the
86 HAROLD.
thegns, his very moustache curling with ire. " He
who can be called niddering shall never be
crowned king !"
" I don't want to be crowned king, rude man,
with your laidly moustache ; I want to be made
knight, and have a banderol and baldric. Go
away I"
" We go, son," said Aired mournfully.
And with slow and tottering step he moved to
the door ; there he halted, turned back, and the
child was pointing at him in mimicry, while God-
froi, the Norman tutor, smiled as in pleasure.
The prelate shook his head, and the group gained
again the ante-hall.
" Fit leader of bearded men ! fit king for the
Saxon land !" cried a thegn. " No more of your
Atheling, Aired my father 1"
" No more of him, indeed !" said the prelate,
mournfully.
" It is but the fault of his nurture and rearing,
a neglected childhood, a Norman tutor, German
hirelings. We may remould yet the pliant clay,"
said Harold.
" Nay," returned Aired, " no leisure for such
hopes, no time to undo what is done by circum-
HAROLD. 87
stance, and, I fear, by nature. Ere the year is
out, the throne will stand empty in our halls."
" Who then," said Haco, abruptly, "who then,
(pardon the ignorance of youth wasted in cap-
tivity abroad) who then, failing the Atheling,
will save this realm from the Norman Duke, who,
I know well, counts on it as the reaper on the
harvest ripening to his sickle ?"
" Alas, who, then ?" murmured Aired.
" Who then !" cried the three thegns, with one
voice, " why the worthiest, the wisest, the bravest!
Stand forth, Harold the Earl, Thou art the man !"
And without awaiting his answer, they strode from
the hall.
CHAPTER V.
AROUND Northampton lay the forces of Morcar,
the choice of the Anglo-Dane men of Northum-
bria. Suddenly there was a shout as to arms
from the encampment; and Morcar, the young
Earl, clad in his link mail, save his helmet, came
forth, and cried,
" My men are fools to look that way for a foe ;
yonder lies Mercia, behind it the hills of Wales.
The troops that come hitherward are those which
Edwin my brother brings to our aid."
Morcar's words were carried into the host by
his captains and warbodes, and the shout changed
from alarm into joy. As the cloud of dust
through which gleamed the spears of the coming
force rolled away, and lay lagging behind the
march of the host, there rode forth from the van
two riders. Fast and far from the rest they rode,
HAROLD. 89
and behind them, fast as they could, spurred two
others, who bore on high, one the pennon of
Mercia, one the red lion of North Wales. Right
to the embankment and palisade which begirt
Morcar's camp rode the riders; and the head of
the foremost was bare, and the guards knew the
face of Edwin the Comely, Morcar's brother.
Morcar stepped down from the mound on which
he stood, and the brothers embraced amidst the
halloos of the forces.
"And welcome, I pray thee," said Morcar, " our
kinsman Caradoc, son of Gryffyth* the bold."
So Morcar reached his hand to Caradoc, step-
son to his sister Aldyth, and kissed him on the
brow, as was the wont of our fathers. The young
and crownless prince was scarce out of boyhood,
but already his name was sung by the bards, and
circled in the halls of Gwynedd with the Hirlas
horn ; for he had harried the Saxon borders, and
given to fire and sword even the fortress of Harold
himself.
But while these three interchanged saluta-
tions, and ere yet the mixed Mercians and Welch
had gained the encampment, from a curve in the
* By his first wife ; Aldyth was his second.
90 IIAROLD.
opposite road, towards TWcester and Dunstable,
broke the flash of mail like a river of light,
trumpets and fifes were heard in the distance ;
and all in Morcar's host stood hushed but stern,
gazing anxious and afar, as the coming armament
swept on. And from the midst were seen the
Martlets and Cross of England's king, and the
Tiger heads of Harold ; banners which, seen toge-
ther, liad planted victory on every tower, on every
field, towards which they had rushed on the
winds.
Retiring, then, to the central mound, the chiefs
of the insurgent force held their brief council.
The two young Earls, whatever their ancestral
renown, being yet new themselves to fame and to
power, were submissive to the Anglo-Dane chiefs,
by whom Morcar had been elected. And these,
on recognising the standard of Harold, were
unanimous in advice to send a peaceful deputation,
setting forth their wrongs under Tostig, and the
justice of their cause. "For the Earl," said Gamel
Beorn, (the head and front of that revolution,) " is
a just man, and one who would shed his own
blood rather than that of any other free-born
dweller in England ; and he will do us right."
HAROLD. 91
" What, against his own brother ? " cried Edwin.
" Against his own brother, if we convince but
his reason," returned the Anglo-Dane.
And the other chiefs nodded assent. Caradoc's
fierce eyes flashed fire; but he played with his
torque, and spoke not.
Meanwhile, the vanguard of the King's force
had defiled under the very walls of Northampton,
between the town and the insurgents ; and some
of the light-armed scouts who went forth from
Morcar's camp to gaze on the procession, with that
singular fearlessness which characterized, at that
period, the rival parties in civil war, returned to
say that they had seen Harold himself in the fore-
most line, and that he was not in mail.
This circumstance the insurgent thegns received
as a good omen ; and, having already agreed on
the deputation, about a score of the principal
thegns of the north went sedately towards the
hostile lines.
By the side of Harojid, armed in mail, with his
face concealed by the strange Sicilian nose-piece
used then by most of the Northern nations, had
ridden Tostig, who had joined the Earl on his march,
with a scanty band of some fifty or sixty of his
92 HAROLD.
Danish house-carles. All the men throughout
broad England that he could cdmmand or bribe to
his cause, were those fifty or sixty liireling Danes.
And it seemed that already there was dispute be-
tween the brothers, for Harold's face was flushed,
and his voice stern, as he said, " Rate me as thou
wilt, brother, but I cannot advance at once to the
destruction of my fellow Englishmen without sum-
mons and attempt at treaty, as has ever been the
custom of our ancient heroes and our own House."
" By all the fiends of the North ! " exclaimed
Tostig, "it is foul shame to talk of treaty and
summons against robbers and rebels. For what
art thou here but for chastisement and revenge? "
" For justice and right, Tostig."
" Ha ! thou comest not, then, to aid thy bro-
ther? "
"Yes, if justice and right are, as I trust, with
him."
Before Tostig could reply, a line was suddenly
cleared through the arme4 men, and, with bare
heads, and a monk lifting the rood on high, amidst
the procession advanced the Northumbrian Danes.
" By the red sword of St. Olave ! " cried Tostig,
yonder come the traitors, Gamel Beorn and Glo-
HAROLD. 93
neion ! You will not hear them ? If so, I will
not stay to listen. I have but my axe for my
answer to such knaves."
" Brother, brother, those men are the most
valiant and famous chiefs in thine earldom. Go,
Tostig, thou art not now in the mood to hear
reason. Retire into the city ; summon its gates
to open to the King's flag. I will hear the men."
" Beware how thou judge, save in thy brother's
favour ! " growled the fierce warrior ; and, tossing
his arm on high with a contemptuous gesture, he
spurred away towards the gates.
Then Harold, dismounting, stood on the ground,
under the standard of his King, and round him
came several of the Saxon chiefs, who had kept
aloof during the conference with Tostig.
The Northumbrians approached, and saluted the
Earl with grave courtesy.
Then Gamel Beorn began. But much as
Harold had feared and foreboded as to the causes
of complaint which Tostig had given to the Nor-
thumbrians, all fear, all foreboding, fell short of
the horrors now deliberately unfolded ; not only
extortion of tribute the most rapacious and illegal,
but murder the fiercest and most foul. Thegns
94 HAROLD.
of high birth, without offence or suspicion, but
who had either excited his jealousy, or resisted his
exactions, had been snared under peaceful pre-
texts into hia castle,* and butchered in cold blood
by his house-carles. The cruelties of the old hea-
then Danes seemed revived in the bloody and bar-
barous tale.
" And now," said the thegn, in conclusion,
" canst thou condemn us that we rose ? no par-
tial rising ; rose all Northumbria ! At first but
two hundred thegns; strong in our cause, we
swelled into the might of a people. Our wrongs
found sympathy beyond our province, for liberty
spreads over human hearts as fire over a heatL
Wherever we march, friends gather round us.
Thou warrest not on a handful of rebels, half
England is with us !"
" And ye, thegns," answered Harold, " ye have
ceased to war against Tostig your Earl. Ye war
now against the King and the Law. Come with
your complaints to your Prince and your Whan,
and, if they are just, ye are stronger than in
yonder palisades and streets of steel."
" And so," said Gamel Beorn, with marked em-
* FLOK. Wio.
IIAROLD. 95
phasis, " now tliou art in England, O noble Earl,
so are we willing to come. But when thou wert
absent from the land, justice seemed to abandon
it to force and the battle-axe."
" I would thank you for your trust," answered
Harold, deeply moved. " But justice in England
rests not on the presence and life of a single man.
And your speech I must not accept as a grace, for
it wrongs both my King and his Council. These
charges ye have made, but ye have not proved
them. Armed men are not proofs ; and granting
that hot blood and mortal infirmity of judgment
have caused Tostig to err against you and the
right, think still of his qualities to reign over men
whose lands, and whose rivers, lie ever exposed to
the dread Northern sea- kings. Where will ye
find a chief with arm as strong, and heart as
dauntless? By his mother's side he is allied to
your own lineage. And for the rest, if ye receive
him back to his earldom, not only do I, Harold,
in whom you profess to trust, pledge full oblivion
of the past, but I will undertake, in his name,
that he shall rule you well for the future, accord-
ing to the laws of King Canute."
" That will we not hear," cried the thegns, with
96 HAROLD.
4
one voice ; while the tones of Gamel Beorn, rough
with the rattling Danish burr, rose above all,
" for we were born free. A proud and bad chief
is by us not to be endured ; we have learned from
our ancestors to live free or die !"
A murmur, not of condemnation, at these words,
was heard amongst the Saxon chiefs round Harold ;
and beloved and revered as he was, he felt that,
had he the heart, he had scarce the power, to have
coerced those warriors to march at once on their
countrymen in such a cause. But foreseeing great
evil in the surrender of his brother's interests,
whether by lowering the king's dignity to the
demands of armed force, or sending abroad in all
his fierce passions a man so highly connected with
Norman and Dane, so vindictive and so grasping,
as Tostig, the Earl shunned further parley at that
time and place. He appointed a meeting in the
town with the chiefs ; and requested them, mean-
while, to reconsider their demands, and at least
shape them so as that they could be transmitted to
the King, who was then on his way to Oxford.
It is in vain to describe the rage of Tostig,
when his brother gravely repeated to him the
accusations against him, and asked fur his justifi-
HAROLD. 97
cation. Justification could he give not. His idea
of law was but force, and by force alone he de-
manded now to be defended. Harold, then, wish-
ing not alone to be judge in his brother's cause,
referred further discussion to the chiefs of the
various towns and shires, whose troops had swelled
the War-Fvrd ; and to them he bade Tostig plead
his cause.
Vain as a woman, while fierce as a tiger, Tostig
assented, and in that assembly he rose, his gonna
all blazing with crimson and gold, his hair all
curled and perfumed as for a banquet ; and such,
in a half barbarous day, the effect of person, es-
pecially when backed by warlike renown, that
the Proceres were half disposed to forget, in ad-
miration of the earl's surpassing beauty of form,
the dark tales of his hideous guilt. But his
passions hurrying him away ere he had gained the
middle of his discourse, so did his own relation
condemn himself, so clear became his own tyrannous
misdeeds, that the Englishmen murmured aloud
their disgust, and their impatience would not
suffer him to close.
" Enough," cried Yebba, the blunt thegn from
Saxon Kent ; " it is plain that neither king nor
VOL. III. F
98 HAROLD.
Witan can replace thee in thine earldom. Tell us
not farther of these atrocities ; or, by're Lady, if
the Northumbrians had chased thee not, we would."
" Take treasure and ship, and go to Baldwin in
Flanders," said Thorold, a great Anglo-Dane
from Lincolnshire, " for even Harold's name can
scarce save thee from outlawry."
Tostig glared round an the assembly, and met
but one common expression in the face of all.
"These are thy henchmen, Harold!" he said
through his gnashing teeth ; and, without vouch-
eafing farther word, strode from the council-hall.
That evening he left the town, and hurried to
tell to Edward the tale that had so miscarried
with the chiefs. The next day, the Northum-
brian delegates were heard; and they made the
customary proposition in those cases of civil dif-
ferences, to refer all matters to the king and the
Witan; each party remaining under arms mean-
while.
This was finally acceded to. Harold repaired
to Oxford, where the King (persuaded to the
journey by Aired, foreseeing what would come to
pass) had just arrived.
CHAPTER VI.
THE Witan was summoned in haste. Thither
came the young earls Morcar and Edwin, but
Caradoc, chafing at the thought of peace, retired
into Wales with his wild band.
Now, all the great chiefs, spiritual and temporal,
assembled in Oxford for the decree of that Witan
on which depended the peace of England. The
imminence of the time made the concourse of
members entitled to vote in the assembly even
larger than that which had met for the inlawry
of Godwin. There was but one thought upper-
most in the minds of men, to which the adjust-
ment of an earldom, however mighty, was com-
paratively insignificant viz. the succession of the
kingdom. That thought turned instinctively and
irresistibly to Harold.
F 2
100 HAROLD.
The evident and rapid decay of the King ; the
utter failure of all male heir in the House of
Cerdic, save only the boy Edgar; whose cha-
racter (which throughout life remained puerile
and frivolous) made the minority which excluded
him from the throne seem cause rather for re-
joicing than grief; and whose rights, even by
birth, were not acknowledged by the general
tenor of the Saxon laws, which did not recognise
as heir to the crown the son of a father who
had not himself been crowned ;* forebodings
of coming evil and danger, originating in Ed-
ward's perturbed visions ; revivals of obscure
and till then forgotten prophecies, ancient as
the days of Merlin; rumours, industriously fo-
mented into certainty by Haco, whose whole
soul seemed devoted to Harold's cause, of the
intended claim of the Norman Count to the
throne ; all concurred to make the election of a
* This truth has been overlooked by writers, who have main-
tained the Atheling's right as if incontestable. " An opinion pre-
vailed," (says PALORAVB, Eng. Commonwealth, 559, 560,) " that
if the Atheling was born before his father and mother were or-
dained to the royal dignity, the crown did not descend to the
child of uncrowned ancestors." Our great legal historian quotes
EADMER, de ViL Sand. Dunstan, p. 220, for the objection made
to the succession of Edward the Martyr, on this score.
HAROLD. 101
man matured in camp and council, doubly neces-
sary to the safety of the realm.
Warm favourers, naturally, of Harold, were
the genuine Saxon population, and a large part
of the Anglo-Danish all the thegns in his vast
Earldom of Wessex, reaching to the southern and
western coasts, from Sandwich and the mouth of
the Thames to the Land's End in Cornwall ; and
including the free men of Kent, which even from
the days of Caesar had been considered in advance
of the rest of the British population, and which
from those of Hengist had exercised an influence
that nothing save the warlike might of the Anglo-
Danes counterbalanced. With Harold, too, were
many of the thegns from his earlier earldom of
East Anglia, comprising the county of Essex,
great part of Herts, and so reaching into Cam-
bridge, Huntingdon, Norfolk, and Ely. With
him, were all the wealth, intelligence, and power of
London, and most of the trading towns ; with
him all the veterans of the armies he had led ;
with him too, generally throughout the empire,
was the force, less distinctly demarked, of public
and national feeling.
Even the priests, save those immediately about
102 HAROLD.
the court, forgot, in the exigency of the time, their
ancient and deep-rooted dislike to Godwin's House ;
they remembered, at least, that Harold had never,
in foray or feud, plundered a single convent; or
in peace, and through plot, appropriated to himself
a single hyde of Church land; and that was more
than could have been said of any other earl of the
age even of Leofric the Holy. They caught,
as a church must do, when so intimately, even in
its illiterate errors, allied with the people as the old
Saxon Church was, the popular enthusiam. Abbot
combined with thegn in zeal for Earl Harold.
The only party that stood aloof was the one
that espoused the claims of the young sons of
Algar. But this party was indeed most for-
midable ; it united all the old friends of the
virtuous Leofric, of the famous Siward ; it had a
numerous party even in East Anglia (in which
earldom Algar had succeeded Harold) ; it com-
prised nearly all the thegns in Mercia, (the heart
of the country) and the population of Northumbria ;
and it involved in its wide range the terrible
Welch on the one hand, and the Scottish domain
of the sub-king Malcolm, himself a Cumbrian, on
the other, despite Malcolm's personal predilections
HAROLD. 103
for Tostig, to whom he was strongly attached-
But then this party, while at present it stood
aloof, were all, with the exception perhaps of the
young earls themselves, disposed, on the slightest
encouragement, to blend their suffrage with
the friends of Harold; and his praise was as
loud on their lips as on those of the Saxons
from Kent, or the burghers from London. All
factions, in short, were willing, in this momentous
crisis, to lay aside old dissensions; it depended
upon the conciliation of the Northumbrians, upon a
fusion between the friends of Harold and the
supporters of the young sons of Algar, to form
such a concurrence of interests as must inevitably
bear Harold to the throne of the empire.
Meanwhile, the Earl himself wisely and patri-
otically deemed it right to remain neuter in the
approaching decision between Tostig and the
young earls. He could not be so unjust and so
mad as to urge to the utmost (and risk in the
urging) his party influence on the side of oppres-
sion and injustice, solely for the sake of his
brother; nor, on the other, was it decorous or
natural to take part himself against Tostig; nor
could he, as a statesman, contemplate without
104 HAROLD.
anxiety and alarm the transfer of so large a por-
tion of the realm to the vice-kingship of the sons
of his old foe rivals to his power, at the very
time when, even for the sake of England alone,
that power should be the most solid and compact.
But the final greatness of a fortunate man is
rarely made by any violent effort of his own.
He has sown the seeds in the time foregone,
and the ripe time brings up the harvest.
His fate seems taken out of his own control;
the greatness seems thrust upon him. He has
made himself, as it were, a ucant to the nation,
a thing necessary to it ; he has identified himself
with his age, and in the wreath or the crown
on his brow, the age itself seems to put forth its
flower.
Tostig, lodging apart from Harold in a fort
near the gate of Oxford, took slight pains to con-
ciliate foes or make friends; trusting rather to
his representations to Edward, (who was wroth
with the rebellious House of Algar,) of the danger
of compromising the royal dignity by concessions
to armed insurgents.
It was but three days before that for which the
Witan was summoned ; most of its members had
HAROLD. 105
already assembled in the city ; and Harold, from the
window of the monastery in which he lodged, was
gazing thoughtfully into the streets below, where,
with the gay dresses of thegns and cnehts, blended
the grave robes of ecclesiastic and youthful
scholar ; for to that illustrious university (pillaged
and persecuted by the sons of Canute), Edward
had, to his honour, restored the schools, when
Haco entered, and announced to him that a
numerous body of thegns and prelates, headed by
Aired Archbishop of York, craved an audience.
" Knowest thou the cause, Haco ? "
The youth's cheek was yet more pale than
usual, as he answered slowly,
" Hilda's prophecies are ripening into truths. "
The Earl started, and his old ambition reviving,
flushed on his brow, and sparkled from his eye
he checked the joyous emotion, and bade Haco
briefly admit the visitors.
They came in, two by two, a body so numerous
that they filled the ample chamber; and Harold, as
he greeted each, beheld the most powerful lords of
the land the highest dignitaries of the Church
and, oft and frequent, came old foe by the side of
his trustiest friend. They all paused at the foot of
F 3
106 HAROLD.
the narrow dais on which Harold stood, and
Aired repelled by a gesture his invitation to
the foremost to mount the platform.
Then Aired began an harangue, simple and
earnest. He described briefly the condition of the
country ; touched with grief and with feeling on
the health of the king, and the failure of Cerdic's
line. He stated honestly his own strong wish, if
possible, to have concentrated the popular suf-
frages on the young Atheling; and under the
emergence of the case, to have waived the objec-
tion to his immature years. But as distinctly
and emphatically he stated, that that hope and
intent he had now formally abandoned, and that
there was but one sentiment on the subject with
all the chiefs and dignitaries of the realm.
"Wherefore," continued he, "after anxious
consultations with each other, those whom you
see around have come to you: yea, to you,
Earl Harold, we offer our hands and hearts to do
our best to prepare for you the throne on the
demise of Edward, and to seat you thereon as
firmly as ever sate King of England and son of
Cerdic ; knowing that in you, and in you alone,
we find the man who reigns already in the English
HAROLD. 107
heart ; to whose strong arm we can trust the de-
fence of our land; to whose just thoughts, our
laws. As I speak, so think we all!"
With downcast eyes Harold heard ; and but by
a slight heaving of his breast under his crimson
robe, could his emotion be seen. But as soon as
the approving murmur, that succeeded the pre-
late's speech, had closed, he lifted his head, and
answered,
" Holy father, and you, Right Worthy my fellow-
thegns, if ye could read my heart at this moment,
believe that you would not find there the vain joy
of aspiring man, when the greatest of earthly prizes
is placed within his reach. There you would see,
with deep and wordless gratitude for your trust and
your love, grave and solemn solicitude, earnest
desire to divest my decision of all mean thought
of self, and judge only whether indeed, as king
or as subject, I can best guard the weal of
England. Pardon me, then, if I answer you not
as ambition alone would answer ; neither deem me
insensible to the glorious lot of presiding, under
heaven, and by the light of our laws, over the
destinies of the English realm, if I pause to
weigh well the responsibilities incurred, and the
108 HAROLD.
obstacles to be surmounted. There is that on my
mind that I would fain unbosom, not of a nature
to discuss in an assembly so numerous, but which
I would rather submit to a chosen few whom you
yourselves may select to hear me, in whose cool
wisdom, apart from personal love to me, ye may
best confide; your most veteran thegns, your
most honoured prelates: To them will I speak,
to them make clean my bosom ; and to their
answer, their counsels, will I in all things defer :
whether with loyal heart to serve another, whom,
hearing me, they may decide to choose; or to fit
my soul to bear, not unworthily, the weight of a
kingly crown."
Aired lifted his mild eyes to Harold, and there
were both pity and approval in his gaze, for he
divined the Earl.
" Thou hast chosen the right course, my son ;
and we will retire at once, and elect those with
whom thou mayst freely confer, and by whose
judgment thou mayst righteously abide."
The prelate turned, and with him went the
conclave.
Left alone with Haco, the last said, abruptly,
" Thou wilt not be so indiscreet, O Harold, as
HAROLD. 1 09
to confess thy compelled oath to the fraudful
Norman ? "
" That is my design," replied Harold, coldly.
The son of Sweyn began to remonstrate, but
the Earl cut him short.
" If the Norman say that he has been deceived
in Harold, never so shall say the men of England.
Leave me. I know not why, Haco, but in thy
presence, at times, there is a glamour as strong
as in the spells of Hilda. Go, dear boy; it is not
thy fault, but the superstitious infirmities of a man
Avlio hath once lowered, or, it may be, too highly
strained, his reason to the things of a haggard
fancy. Go ! and send to me my brother Gurth.
I would have him alone of my House present at
this solemn crisis of its fate."
Haco bowed his head, and went.
In a few moments more, Gurth came in. To
this pure and spotless spirit Harold had already
related the events of his unhappy visit to the
Norman ; and he felt, as the young chief pressed
his hand, and looked on him with his clear and
loving eyes, as if Honour made palpable stood by
his side.
Six of the ecclesiastics, most eminent for
110 HAROLD.
Church learning, small as was that which they
could boast, compared with the scholars of
Normandy and the Papal States, but at least
more intelligent and more free from mere formal
monasticism than most of their Saxon con-
temporaries, and six of the chiefs most renowned
for experience in war or council, selected under
the sagacious promptings of Aired, accompanied
that prelate to the presence of the Earl.
" Close, thou ! close ! close ! Gurth," whispered
Harold : " for this is a confession against man's
pride, and sorely doth it shame ; so that I would
have thy bold sinless heart beating near to mine."
Then, leaning his arm upon his brother's
shoulder, and in a voice, the first tones of which,
as betraying earnest emotion, irresistibly chained
and affected his noble audience, Harold began
his tale.
Various were the emotions, though all more
akin to terror than repugnance, with which the
listeners heard the Earl's plain and candid recital.
Among the lay chiefs the impression made by
the compelled oath was comparatively slight : for
it was the worst vice of the Saxon laws, to
entangle all charges, from the smallest to the
HAROLD. Ill
greatest, in a reckless multiplicity of oaths,* to the
grievous loosening of the bonds of truth: and oaths
then had become almost as much mere matter of
legal form, as certain oaths bad relic of those times
still existing in our parliamentary and collegiate
proceedings, are deemed by men, not otherwise
dishonourable, even now. And to no kind of oath
was more latitude given than to such as related
to fealty to a chief: for these, in the constant
rebellions which happened year after year, were
openly violated, and without reproach. Not a
sub- king in Wales who harried the border, not an
Earl who raised banner against the Basileus of
Britain, but infringed his oath to be good man
and true to the lord paramount; and even
William the Norman himself never found his
oath of fealty stand in his way, whenever he
deemed it right and expedient to take arms
against his suzerain of France.
On the churchmen the impression was stronger
and more serious : not that made by the oath itself,
but by the relics on which the hand had been
* See the judicious remarks of HENRY, Hist, of Britain, on
this head. From the lavish abuse of oaths, perjury had come to
be reckoned one of the national vices of the Saxon.
112 HAROLD.
laid. They looked at each other, doubtful and
appalled, when the Earl ceased his tale; while
only among the laymen circled a murmur of
mingled wrath at Willliam's bold design on their
native land, and of scorn at the thought that an
oath, surprised and compelled, should be made the
instrument of treason to a whole people.
" Thus," said Harold, after a pause, " thus have
I made clear to you my conscience, and revealed
to you the only obstacle between your offers and
my choice. From the keeping of an oath so
extorted, and so deadly to England, this venerable
prelate and mine own soul have freed me.
Whether as king or as subject, I shall alike revere
the living and their long posterity more than the
dead men's bones, and, with sword and with
battle-axe, hew out against the invader my best
atonement for the lip's weakness and the heart's
desertion. But whether, knowing what hath
passed, ye may not deem it safer for the land to
elect another king, this it is which, free and pre-
thoughtful of every chance, ye should now decide."
With these words he stepped from the dais,
and retired into the oratory that adjoined the
chamber, followed by Gurth. The eyes of the
HAROLD. 113
priests then turned to Aired, and to them he
spoke as he had done before to Harold ; he dis-
tinguished between the oath and its fulfilment
between the lesser sin and the greater the one
which the Church could absolve the one which
no Church had the right to exact, and which, if
fulfilled, no penance could expiate. He owned
frankly, nevertheless, that it was the difficulties
so created, that had made him incline to the
Atheling; but, convinced of that prince's in-
capacity, even in the most ordinary times, to
rule England, he shrunk yet more from such
a choice, when the swords of the Norman
were already sharpening for contest. Finally he
said, " If a man as fit to defend us as Harold
can be found, let us prefer him : if not "
"There is no other man!" cried the thegns
with one voice. "And," said a wise old chief,
" had Harold sought to play a trick to secure the
throne, he could not have devised one more sure
than the tale he hath now told us. What ! just
w r hen we are most assured that the doughtiest and
deadliest foe that our land can brave, waits but for
Edward's death to enforce on us a stranger's yoke
what ! shall we for that very reason deprive our-
1 14 HAROLD.
selves of the only man able to resist him ? Harold
hath taken an oath ! God wot, who among us have
not taken some oath at law for which they have
deemed it meet afterwards to do a penance, or endow
a con vent? The wisest means to strengthen Harold
against that oath, is to show the moral impossibility
of fulfilling it, by placing him on the throne. The
best proof we can give to this insolent Norman
that England is not for prince to leave, or subject
to barter, is to choose solemnly in our Witan the
very chief whom his frauds prove to us that he
fears the most. Why, William would laugh in his
own sleeve to summon a king to descend from
his throne to do him the homage which that king,
in the different capacity of subject, had (we will
grant, even willingly,) promised to render."
This speech spoke all the thoughts of the lay-
men, and, with Alred's previous remarks, reassured
all the ecclesiastics. They were easily induced to
believe that the usual Church penances, and ample
Church gifts, would suffice for the insult offered to
the relics: and, if they in so grave a case out-
stripped, in absolution, an authority amply suf-
ficing for all ordinary matters, Harold, as king,
might easily gain from the Pope himself that full
HAROLD. 115
pardon and shrift, which as mere earl, against the
prince of the Normans, he would fail of obtaining.
These or similar reflections soon termi-
nated the suspense of the select council ; and
Aired sought the Earl in the oratory, to summon
him. back to the conclave. The two brothers were
kneeling side by side before the little altar; and
there was something inexpressibly touching in
their humble attitudes, their clasped supplicating
hands, in that moment when the crown of Eng-
land rested above their House.
The brothers rose, and at Alred's sign followed
the prelate into the council-room. Aired briefly
communicated the result of the conference; and
with an aspect, and in a tone, free alike from
triumph and indecision, Harold replied :
" As ye will, so will I. Place me only where I
can most serve the common cause. Remain you
now, knowing my secret, a chosen and standing-
council: too great is my personal stake in this
matter to allow my mind to be unbiassed ; judge
ye, then, and decide for me in all things: your
minds should be calmer and wiser than mine ; in
all things I will abide by your counsel ; and thus
I accept the trust of a nation's freedom."
116 UAROLD.
Each thegn then put his haud into Harold's,
and called himself Harold's man.
" Now, more than ever," said the wise old
thegn who had before spoken, " will it be needful
to heal all dissension in the kingdom to re-
concile with us Mercia and Northumbria, and
make the kingdom one against the foe. You, as
Tostig's brother, have done well to abstain from
active interference; you do well to leave it to us
to negotiate the necessary alliance between all
brave and good men."
" And to that end, as imperative for the public
weal, you consent," said Aired, thoughtfully, " to
abide by our advice, whatever it be?"
"Whatever it be, so that it serve England,"
answered the Earl.
A smile, somewhat sad, flitted over the pre-
late's pale lips, and Harold was once more alone
with Gurth.
CHAPTER VII.
THE soul of all council and cabal, on behalf of
Harold, which had led to the determination of the
principal chiefs, and which now succeeded it was
Haco.
His rank as son of Sweyn, the firstborn of
Godwin's house a rank which might have autho-
rized some pretensions on his own part, gave him
all field for the exercise of an intellect singularly
keen and profound. Accustomed to an atmosphere
of practical state-craft in the Korman court, with
faculties sharpened from boyhood by vigilance and
meditation, he exercised an extraordinary influence
over the simple understandings of the homely
clergy and the uncultured thegns. Impressed
with the conviction of his early doom, he felt no
interest in the objects of others ; but equally be-
lieving that whatever of bright, and brave, and
118 HAROLD.
glorious, in his brief, condemned career, was to be
reflected on him from the light of Harold's destiny,
the sole desire of a nature, which, under other
auspices, would have been intensely daring and
ambitious, was to administer to Harold's greatness.
No prejudice, no principle, stood in the way of this
dreary enthusiasm. As a father, himself on the
brink of the grave, schemes for the worldly
grandeur of the son, in whom he confounds and
melts his own life, so this sombre and predes-
tined man, dead to earth and to joy and the
emotions of the heart, looked beyond his own
tomb, to that existence in which he transferred
and carried on his ambition.
If the leading agencies of Harold's memorable
career might be, as it were, symbolized and alle-
gorized, by the living beings with which it was
connected as Edith was the representative of
stainless Truth as Gurth was the type of daunt-
less Duty as Hilda embodied aspiring Imagi-
nation so Haco seemed the personation of
Worldly Wisdom. And cold now in that worldly
wisdom Haco laboured on, now conferring with
Aired and the partizans of Harold ; now closeted
with Edwin and Morcar; now gliding from
HAROLD. 119
the chamber of the sick king. That wisdom
foresaw all obstacles, smoothed all difficulties;
ever calm, never resting; marshalling and har-
monizing the things to be, like the ruthless
hand of a tranquil fate. But there was one
with whom Haco was more often than with
all others one whom the presence of Harold had
allured to that anxious scene of intrigue, and
whose heart leapt high at the hopes whispered
from the smile! ess lips of Haco.
CHAPTER VIII.
IT was the second day after that which assured
him the allegiance of the thegns, that a message
was brought to Harold from the Lady Aldyth.
She was in Oxford, at a convent, with her young
daughter by the Welsh king ; she prayed him to
visit her. The Earl, whose active mind, abstain-
ing from the intrigues around him, was delivered
up to the thoughts, restless and feverish, which
haunt the repose of all active minds, was not un-
willing to escape awhile from himself. He went
to Aldyth. The royal widow had laid by the
signs of mourning ; she was dressed with the
usual stately and loose-robed splendour of Saxon
matrons, and all the proud beauty of her youth
was restored to her cheek. At her feet was that
daughter who afterwards married the Fleance so
familiar to us in Shakspeare, and became the
HAROLD. 121
ancestral mother of those Scottish kings who
had passed, in pale shadows, across the eyes
of Macbeth ; * by the side of that child, Harold
to his surprise saw the ever ominous face of
Haco.
But proud as was Aldyth, all pride seemed
humbled into woman's sweeter emotions at the
sight of the Earl, and she was at first unable to
command words to answer his greeting.
Gradually, however, she warmed into cordial
confidence. She touched lightly on her past sor-
rows ; she permitted it to be seen that her lot with
the fierce Gryffyth had been one not more of
public calamity than of domestic grief, and that
in the natural awe and horror which the murder
of her lord had caused, she felt rather for the
ill-starred king than the beloved spouse. She then
passed to the differences still existing between
her house and Harold's, and spoke well and wisely
of the desire of the young earls to conciliate his
grace and favour.
While thus speaking, Morcar and Edwin, as if
accidentally, entered, and their salutations of
* And so, from Gryffyth, beheaded by his subjects, descended
Charles Stuart.
VOL. III. O
1 22 HAROLD.
Harold were such as became their relative posi-
tions; reserved, not distant respectful, not servile.
With the delicacy of high natures, they avoided
touching on the cause before the Witan (fixed for
the morrow), on which depended their earldoms
or their exile.
Harold was pleased by their bearing, and
attracted towards them by the memory of the
affectionate words that had passed between him
and Leofric, their illustrious grandsire, over his
father's corpse. He thought then of his own
prayer ; " Let there be peace between thine and
mine ! " and looking at their fair and stately
youth, and noble carriage, he could not but feel
that the men of Northumbria and of Mercia had
chosen well. The discourse, however, was natu-
rally brief, since thus made general ; the visit soon
ceased, and the brothers attended Harold to the
door with the courtesy of the times. Then Haco
said, with that faint movement of the lips which
was his only approach to a smile,
" Will ye not, noble thegns, give your hands to
my kinsman ? "
" Surely," said Edwin, the handsomer and more
gentle of the two, and who, having a poet's nature,
HAROLD. 123
felt a poet's enthusiasm for the gallant deeds even
of a rival, " surely, if the Earl will accept the
hands of those who trust never to be compelled
to draw sword against England's hero."
Harold stretched forth his hand in reply, and
that cordial and immemorial pledge of our national
friendships was interchanged.
Gaining the street, Harold said to his nephew,
" Standing as I do towards the young Earls,
that appeal of thine had been better omitted."
"Xay," answered Haco; "their cause is already
prejudged in their favour. And thou must ally
thyself with the heirs of Leofric, and the suc-
cessors of Siward."
Harold made no answer. There was something
in the positive tone of this beardless youth that
displeased him; but he remembered that Haco
was the son of Sweyn, Godwin's first-born, and
that, but for Sweyn's crimes, Haco might have
held the place in England he held himself, and
looked to the same august destinies beyond.
In the evening a messenger from the Roman
house arrived, with two letters for Harold; one
from Hilda, that contained but these words :
" Again peril menaces thee, but in the shape of
c 2
124 HAROLD.
good. Beware ! and, above all, of the evil that
wears the form of wisdom."
The other letter was from Edith ; it was long
for the letters of that age, and every sentence
spoke a heart wrapped in his.
Reading the last, Hilda's warnings were forgot-
ten. The picture of Edith the prospect of a
power that might at last effect their union, and
reward her long devotion rose before him, to the
exclusion of wilder fancies and loftier hopes ; and
his sleep that night was full of youthful and
happy dreams.
The next day the Witan met. The meeting
was less stormy than had been expected ; for the
minds of most men were made up, and so far
as Tostig was interested, the facts were too evi-
dent and notorious, the witnesses too numerous,
to leave any option to the judges. Edward, on
whom alone Tostig had relied, had already, with
his ordinary vacillation, been swayed towards a
right decision, partly by the counsels of Aired
and his other prelates, and especially by the repre-
sentations of Haco, whose grave bearing and pro-
found dissimulation had gained a singular influence
over the formal and melancholy King.
HAROLD. 125
By some previous compact or understanding
between the opposing parties, there was no
attempt, however, to push matters against the
offending Tostig to vindictive extremes. There
was no suggestion of outlawry, or punishment,
beyond the simple deprivation of the earldom he
had abused. And in return for this moderation
on the one side, the other agreed to support and
ratify the new election of the Northumbrians.
Morcar was thus formally invested with the vice-
kingship of that great realm ; while Edwin was
confirmed in the earldom of the principal part of
Mercia.
On the announcement of these decrees, which
were received with loud applause by all the crowd
assembled to hear them, Tostig, rallying round him
his house-carles, left the town. He went first to
Githa, with whom his wife had sought refuge ; and,
after a long conference with his mother, he, and
his haughty Countess, journied to the sea-coast,
and took ship for Flanders.
CHAPTER IX.
GURTH and Harold were seated in close com-
mune in the Earl's chamber, at an hour long
after the complin (or second vespers), when Aired
entered unexpectedly. The old man's face was
unusually grave, and Harold's penetrating eye
saw that he was gloomy with some matters of
great moment.
" Harold," said the prelate, seating himself,
" the hour has come to test thy truth, when thou
saidst that thou wert ready to make all sacrifice
to thy land, and further, that thou wouldst abide
by the counsel of those free from thy passions,
and looking on thee only as the instrument of
England's weal."
" Speak on, father," said Harold, turning some-
what pale at the solemnity of the address ; " I am
ready, if the council so desire, to remain a sub-
ject, and aid in the choice of a worthier king."
" Thou xlivinest me ill," answered Aired ; " I
HAROLD. 127
do not call on thee to lay aside the crown, but to
crucify the heart. The decree of the Witan
assigns Mercia and Northumbria to the sons of
Algar. The old demarcations of the heptarchy,
as thou knowest, are scarce worn out ; it is even
now less one monarchy, than various states retain-
ing their own laws, and inhabited by different races,
who under the sub-kings, called earls, acknow-
ledge a supreme head in the Basileus of Britain.
Mercia hath its March law and its prince ; Nor-
thumbria its Dane law, and its leader. To elect
a king without civil war, these realms, for so they
are, must unite with and sanction the Witans else-
where held. Only thus can the kingdom be firm
against foes without and anarchy within ; and
the more so, from the alliance between the new
earls of those great provinces and the House of
Gryffyth, which still lives in Caradoc his son.
What if at Edward's death Mercia and Northum-
bria refuse to sanction thy accession ? What if,
when all our force were needed against the
Norman, the Welsh broke loose from their hills,
and the Scots from their moors ! Malcolm of
Cumbria, now King of Scotland, is Tostig's dearest
friend, while his people side with Morcar. Verily
128 HAROLD.
these are dangers enow for a new king, even if
William's sword slept in its sheath."
"Thou speakest the words of wisdom," said
Harold, "but I knew beforehand that he who
wears a crown must abjure repose."
" Not so ; there is one way, and but one, to
reconcile all England to thy dominion to win to
thce not the cold neutrality but the eager zeal of
Mercia and Xorthumbria ; to make the first guard
thee from the Welsh, the last be thy rampart
against the Scot. In a word, thou must ally thy-
self with the blood of these young earls; thou
must wed with Aldyth their sister."
The Earl sprang to his feet aghast.
"No no!" he exclaimed; "not that! any
sacrifice but that ! rather forfeit the throne than
resign the heart that leans on mine ! Thou
knowest my pledge to Edith, my cousin ; pledge
hallowed by the faith of long years. No no,
have mercy human mercy ; I can wed no other !
any sacrifice but that ! "
The good prelate, though not unprepared for this
burst, was much moved by its genuine anguish ;
but, steadfast to his purpose, he resumed :
" Ala?, my son, so say we all in the hour of
HAROLD. 129
trial any sacrifice but that which duty and heaven
ordain. Resign the throne thou canst not, or
thou leavest the land without a ruler, distracted
by rival claims and ambitions, an easy prey to the
Norman. Resign thy human affections thou canst
and must ; and the more, O Harold, that even if
duty compelled not this new alliance, the old tie is
one of sin, which, as king, and high example in
high place to all men, thy conscience within, and
the Church without, summon thee to break. How
purify the erring lives of the churchmen, if thyself
a rebel to the Church ? and if thou hast thought
that thy power as king might prevail on the
Roman Pontiff to grant dispensation for wedlock
within the degrees, and so that thou mightest
legally confirm thy now illegal troth ; bethink
thee well, thou hast a more dread and urgent boon
now to ask in absolution from thine oath to
William. Both prayers, surely, our Roman father
will not grant. Wilt thou choose that which
absolves from sin, or that which consults but thy
carnal affections ?"
Harold covered his face with his hands, and
groaned aloud in his strong agony.
" Aid me, Gurth," cried Aired, "thou, sinless and
c 3
130 . HAROLD.
spotless ; thou, in whose voice a brother's love can
blend with a Christian's zeal; aid me, Gurth, to melt
the stubborn, but to comfort the human, heart."
Then Gurth, with a strong effort over himself,
knelt by Harold's side, and in strong simple lan-
guage, backed the representations of the priest. In
truth, all argument drawn from reason, whether in
the state of the land, or the new duties to which
Harold was committed, were on the one side, and
unanswerable; on the other, was but that mighty
resistance which love opposes ever to reason.
And Harold continued to mur.nur, while his hands
concealed his face.
"Impossible! she who trusted, who trusts
who so loves she whose whole youth hath been
consumed in patient faith in me! Resign her!
and for another ! I cannot I cannot. Take from
me the throne ! Oh vain heart of man, that BO
long desired its own curse ! Place on it the
Atheling; my manhood shall defend his youth.
But not this offering ! No, no I will not !"
It were tedious to relate the rest of that
prolonged and agitated conference. All that night,
till the last stars waned, and the bells of prime
were heard from church and convent, did the
HAROLD. 131
priest and the brother alternately plead and re-
monstrate, chide and soothe ; and still Harold's
heart clung to Edith's, with its bleeding roots. At
length they, perhaps not unwisely, left him to him-
self; and as, whispering low their hopes and their
fears of the result of the self-conflict, they went
forth from the convent, Haco joined them in the
courtyard, and while his cold mournful eye scanned
the faces of priest and brother, he asked them
"how they had sped?"
Aired shook his head, and answered,
" Man's heart is more strong in the flesh than
true to the spirit."
" Pardon me, father," said Haco, " if I suggest
that your most eloquent and persuasive ally in
this, were Edith herself. Start not so incredu-
lously ; it is because she loves the Earl more than
her own life, that once show her that the Earl's
safety, greatness, honour, duty, lie in release from
his troth to her that nought save his erring love
resists your councils and his country's claims and
Edith's voice will have more power than yours."
The virtuous prelate, more acquainted with
man's selfishness than woman's devotion, only
replied by an impatient gesture. But Gurth, lately
wedded to a woman worthy of him, said gravely,
132 HAROLD.
" Haco speaks well, my father ; and mcthinks it
is due to both that Edith should not, unconsulted,
be abandoned by him for whom she has abjured
all others ; to whom she has been as devoted in
heart as if sworn wife already. Leave we awhile
my brother, never the slave of passion, and
with whom England must at last prevail over all
selfish thought ; and ride we at once to tell to
Edith what we have told to him ; or rather woman
can best in such case speak to woman let us tell
all to our Lady Edward's wife, Harold's sister,
and Edith's holy godmother and abide by her
counsel. On the third day we shall return."
" Go we so charged, noble Gurth," said Haco,
observing the prelate's reluctant countenance,
" and leave we our reverend father to watch over
the Earl's sharp struggle."
" Thou speakest well, my son," said the prelate,
" and thy mission suits the young and the layman,
better than the old and the priest."
" Let us go, Haco," said Gurth, briefly. " Deep,
sore, and lasting, is the wound I inflict on the
brother of my love ; and my own heart bleeds in
his ; but he himself hath taught me to hold
England as a Roman held Rome."
CHAPTER X.
IT is the nature of that happiness Avhich we
derive from our affections to be calm ; its immense
influence upon our outward life is not known till
it is troubled or withdrawn. By placing his heart
at peace, man leaves vent to his energies and pas-
sions, and permits their current to flow towards
the aims and objects which interest labour or
arouse ambition. Thus absorbed in the occupation
without, he is lulled into a certain forgetfulness
of the value of that internal repose which gives
health and vigour to the faculties he employs
abroad. But once mar this scarce felt, almost in-
visible harmony, and the discord extends to the
remotest chords of our active being. Say to the
busiest man whom thou seest in mart, camp, or
senate, who seems to thee all intent upon his
worldly schemes, " Thy home is reft from thee
134 HAROLD.
thy household gods are shattered that sweet
noiseless content in the regular mechanism of the
springs, which set the large wheels of thy soul
into movement is thine nevermore !" and straight-
way all exertion seems robbed of its object all
aim of its alluring charm. " Othello's occupation
is gone !" With a start, that man will awaken
from the sunlit visions of noontide ambition, and
exclaim in his desolate anguish, " What are all the
rewards to my labour, now thou hast robbed me
of repose ? How little are all the gains wrung
from strife, in a world of rivals and foes, com-
pared to the smile whose sweetness I knew not
till it was lost ; and the sense of security from
mortal ill which I took from the trust and sym-
pathy of love !"
Thus was it with Harold in that bitter and
terrible crisis of his fate. This rare and spiritual
love, which had existed on hope, which had never
known fruition, had become the subtlest, the most
exquisite part of his being ; this love, to the full
and holy possession of which, every step in his
career seemed to advance him, waa it now to be
evermore reft from his heart, his existence, at the
very moment when he had deemed himself most
HAROLD. 135
secure of its rewards when he most needed its
consolations ? Hitherto, in that love he had lived in
the future he had silenced the voice of the turbu-
lent human passion by the whisper of the patient
angel, " A little while yet, and thy bride sits beside
thy throne ! " Now what was that future ! how
joyless, how desolate ! The splendour vanished
from Ambition the glow from the face of Fame
the sense of Duty remained alone to counteract
the pleadings of affections ; but Duty, no longer
dressed in all the gorgeous colourings it took before
from glory and power Duty stern, and harsh, and
terrible, as the iron frown of a Grecian Destiny.
And thus, front to front with that Duty, he sate
alone one evening, while his lips murmured, " Oh
fatal voyage, Oh lying truth in the hell-born pro-
phecy ! this, then, this was the wife my league
with the Normans was to win to my arms !" In
the streets below were heard the tramp of
busy feet hurrying homeward, and the confused
uproar of joyous wassail from the various resorts
of entertainment crowded by careless revellers.
And the tread of steps mounted the stairs with-
out his door, and there paused, and there was the
murmur of two voices without; one the clear
136 HAROLD.
voice of Gurth, one softer and more troubled.
The Earl lifted his head from his bosom, and his
heart beat quick at the faint and scarce heard
sound of that last voice. The door opened gently,
gently ; a form entered, and halted on the shadow
of the threshold; the door closed again by a
hand from without. The Earl rose to his feet,
tremulously, and the next moment Edith was at his
knees ; her hood thrown back, her face upturned
to his, bright with unfaded beauty, serene with the
grandeur of self-martyrdom.
"O Harold!" she exclaimed, "dost thou re-
member that in the old time I said, * Edith had
loved thee less, if thou hadst not loved England
more than Edith?' Recall, recall those words.
And deemest thou now that I, who have gazed for
years into thy clear soul, and learned there to sun
my woman's heart in the light of all glories native
to noblest man, deemest thou, O Harold, that
I am weaker now than then, when I scarce knew
what England and glory were?"
"Edith, Edith, what wouldst thou say? What
knowest thou ? Who hath told thee? What led
thee hither, to take part against thyself? "
"It matters not who told me; I know all.
HAROLD. 137
What led me ? Mine own soul, and mine own love !"
Springing to her feet, and clasping his hand in both
hers, while she looked into his face she resumed :
" I do not say to thee, ' Grieve not to part ; ' for I
know too well thy faith, thy tenderness thy heart,
so grand and so soft. But I do say, ( Soar above
thy grief, and be more than man for the sake of
men.' Yes, Harold, for this last time I behold
thee. I clasp thy hand, I lean on thy heart, I hear
its beating, and I shall go hence without a tear."
" It cannot, it shall not be ! " exclaimed Harold,
passionately. "Thou deceivest thyself in the
divine passion of the hour : when the fever slakes,
it will leave thee to the exhaustion of a lonely
heart the despair of a crushed and broken fate.
We were betrothed to each other by ties strong as
those of the Church, over the grave of the dead,
under the vault of heaven, in the form of ancestral
faith ! The bond cannot be broken. If England
demands me, let England take me with the ties it
were unholy, even for her sake, to rend ! "
" Alas, alas ! " faltered Edith, while the flush on
her cheek sank into mournful paleness. "It is
not as thou sayest. So has thy love sheltered me
from the world so utter was my youth's igno-
38 HAROLD.
ranee or my heart's oblivion of the stern laws of
man, that when it pleased thee that we should love
each other, I could not believe that that love was
sin ;"and that it was sin hitherto I will not think ;
now it hath become one."
" No, no ! " cried Harold ; all the eloquence
on which thousands had hung, thrilled and spell-
bound, deserting him in that hour of need, and
leaving to him only broken exclamations, frag-
ments, in each of which his heart itself seemed
shivered ; " no, no not sin ! Bin only to for-
sake thee. Hush ! hush ! This is a dream wait
till we wake! True heart! noble soul! I will
not part from thee ! "
" But I from thee ! And rather than thou
shouldst be lost for my sake the sake of woman
to honour and conscience, and all for which thy
sublime life sprang from the hands of Nature,
if the cloister may not open to my soul, may the
grave receive my form ! Harold, to the last let
me be worthy thee ; and feel, at least, that if not
thy wife that bright, that blessed fate not mine !
still, remembering Edith, just men may say,
* She would not have dishonoured the hearth of
Harold!'"
HAROLD. 139
" Dost thou know," said the Earl, striving to
speak calmly, " dost thou know that it is not only
to resign thee that they demand that it is to
resign thee, and for another ? "
" I know it," said Edith ; and two burning
tears, despite her strong and preternatural self-
exaltation, swelled from the dark fringe, and rolled
slowly down the colourless cheek, as she added,
with proud voice, " I know it : but that other is
not Aldyth, it is England ! In her, in Aldyth, be-
hold the dear cause of thy native land; with her
enweave the love which thy native land should
command. So thinking, thou art reconciled, and
I consoled. It is not for woman that thou de-
sertest Edith."
" Hear, and take from those lips the strength
and the valour that belong to the name of Hero ! "
said a deep and clear voice behind ; and Gurth,
who, whether distrusting the result of an inter-
view so prolonged, or tenderly desirous to terminate
its pain, had entered unobserved, approached,
and wound his arm caressingly round his brother.
" Oh, Harold ! " he said, " dear to me as the drops
in my heart is my young bride, newly wed ; but
if for one tithe of the claims that now call thee to
140 HAROLD.
the torture and trial yea, if but for one hour of
good service to freedom and law I would consent
without a groan to behold her no more. And if
men asked me how I could so conquer man's
affections, I would point to thee, and say, * So
Harold taught my youth by his lessons, and my
manhood by his life.' Before thee, visible, stand
Happiness and Love, but with them, Shame ; be-
fore thee, invisible, stands Woe, but with Woe
are England and eternal Glory ! Choose between
them."
" He hath chosen," said Edith, as Harold turned
to the wall, and leaned against it, hiding his face ;
then, approaching softly, she knelt, lifted to her
lips the hem of his robe, and kissed it with devout
passion.
Harold turned suddenly, and opened his arms.
Edith resisted not that mute appeal ; she rose, and
fell on his breast, sobbing.
Wild and speechless was that last embrace. The
moon, which had witnessed their union by the
heathen grave, now rose above the tower of the
Christian church, and looked wan and cold upon
their parting.
Solemn and clear poured the orb a cloud
HAROLD. 141
passed over the disk and Edith was gone. The
cloud rolled away, and again the moon shone
forth; and where had knelt the fair form, and
looked the last look of Edith, stood the motionless
image, and gazed the solemn eye, of the dark son
of Sweyn. But Harold leant on the breast of
Gurth, and saw not who had supplanted the soft
and loving Fylgia of his life saw nought in the
universe but the blank of desolation !
BOOK XL
THE NORMAN SCHEMER, AND THE NORWEGIAN
SEA-KING.
BOOK XL
CHAPTER I.
IT was the eve of the 5th of January the eve
of the day announced to King Edward as that of
his deliverance from earth ; and whether or not
the prediction had wrought its own fulfilment on
the fragile frame and susceptible nerves of the
King, the last of the line of Cerdic was fast
passing into the solemn shades of eternity.
Without the walls of the palace, through the
whole city of London, the excitement was inde-
scribable. All the river before the palace was
crowded with boats ; all the broad space on the
Isle of Thorney itself, thronged with anxious
groups. But a few days before, the new-built
Abbey had been solemnly consecrated ; with the
completion of that holy edifice, Edward's life itself
VOL. in. H
146 HAROLD.
seemed done. Like the kings of Egypt, he had
built his tomb.
Within the palace, if possible, still greater was
the agitation, more dread the suspense. Lobbies,
halls, corridors, stairs, ante-rooms, were filled with
churchmen and thegns. Nor was it alone for news
of the King's state that their brows were so knit,
that their breath came and went so short. It is
not when a great chief is dying, that men compose
their minds to deplore a loss. That conies long
after, when the worm is at its work, and compa-
rison between the dead and the living oft rights
the one to wrong the other. But while the breath
is struggling, and the eye glazing, life, busy in the
bystanders, murmurs, " Who shall be the heir?"
And, in this instance, never had suspense been so
keenly wrought up into hope and terror. For the
news of Duke William's designs had now spread
far and near ; and awful was the doubt, whether
the abhorred Norman should receive his sole sanc-
tion to so arrogant a claim from the parting assent
of Edward. Although, as we have seen, the crown
was not absolutely within the bequests of a dying
king, but at the will of the Witan, still, in circum-
stances so unparalleled, the utter failure of all
HAROLD. 147
natural heirs, save a boy feeble in mind as body,
and half foreign by birth and rearing ; the love
borne by Edward to the Church ; and the senti-
ments, half of pity half of reverence, with which
he was regarded throughout the land; his dying
word would go far to influence the council and
select the successor. Some whispering to each
other, with pale lips, all the dire predictions then
current in men's mouths and breasts; some in
moody silence ; all lifted eager eyes, as, from
time to time, a gloomy Benedictine passed in the
direction to or fro the King's chamber.
In that chamber, traversing the past of eight
centuries, enter we with hushed and noiseless feet
a room known to us in many a later scene and
legend of England's troubled history, as " THE
PAINTED CHAMBER," long called " THE CONFES-
SOR'S." At the farthest end of that long and lofty
space, raised upon a regal platform, and roofed
with regal canopy, was the bed of death.
At the foot stood Harold ; on one side knelt
Edith, the King's lady ; at the other Aired ; while
Stigand stood near the holy rood in his hand
and the abbot of the new monastery of Westmin-
ster by Stigand's side ; and all the greatest thegns,
H2
148 HAROLD.
including Morcar and Edwin, Gurth and Leof-
wine, all the more illustrious prelates and abbots,
stood also on the dais.
In the lower end of the hall, the King's physi-
cian was warming a cordial over the brazier, and
some of the subordinate officers of the household
were standing in the niches of the deep set win-
dows ; and they not great enow for emotion save
that of human love for their kindly lord theij
wept.
The King, who had already undergone the last
holy offices of the Church, was lying quite quiet,
his eyes half closed, breathing low but regularly.
He had been speechless the two preceding days ; on
this he had uttered a few words, which showed re-
turning consciousness. His hand, reclined on the
coverlid, was clasped in his wife's, who was pray-
ing fervently. Something in the touch of her
hand, or the sound of her murmur, stirred the
King from the growing lethargy, and his eyes
opening, fixed on the kneeling lady.
. " Ah ! " said he faintly, " ever good, ever meek !
Think not I did not love thee ; hearts will be read
yonder ; we shall have our guerdon."
The lady looked up through her streaming tears.
HAROLD. 149
Edward released his hand, and laid it on her head
as in benediction. Then motioning to the abbot of
Westminster, he drew from his finger the ring
which the palmers had brought to him,* and mur-
mured scarce audibly
"Be this kept in the House of St. Peter in
memory of me."
" He is alive now to us speak " whispered
more than one thegn, one abbot, to Aired and to
Stigand. And Stigand, as the harder and more
worldly man of the two, moved lip, and bending
over the pillow, between Aired and the King,
said
" O royal son, about to win the crown to which
that of earth is but an idiot's wreath of withered
leaves, not yet may thy soul forsake us. Whom
commendest thou to us as sheplferd to thy bereaven
flock ? whom shall we admonish to tread in those
traces thy footsteps leave below ? "
The King made a slight gesture of impatience ;
and the Queen, forgetful of all but her womanly sor-
row, raised her eye and finger in reproof that the
dying was thus disturbed. But the stake was too
weighty, the suspense too keen, for that reverent
* BJIOMT. CHKON.
150 HAROLD.
delicacy in those around ; and the thegns pressed
on each other, and a murmur rose, which mur-
mured the name of Harold.
" Bethink thee, my son," said Aired, in a tender
voice, tremulous with emotion ; " the young
Atheling is too much an infant yet for these
anxious times."
Edward signed his head in assent.
"Then," said the Norman bishop of London,
who till that moment had stood in the rear, almost
forgotten amongst the crowd of Saxon prelates,
but who himself had been all eyes and ears.
" Then," said Bishop William, advancing, " if thine
own royal line so fail, who so near to thy love, who
so worthy to succeed, as William thy cousin, the
Count of the Normans?"
Dark was the scowl on the brow of every thegn,
and a muttered "No, no: never the Norman I"
was heard distinctly. Harold's face flushed, and
his hand was on the hilt of his ateghar. But no
other sign gave he of his interest in the question.
The King lay for some moments silent, but evi-
dently striving to re-collect his thoughts. Mean-
while the two arch-prelates bent over him Stigand
eagerly, Aired fondly.
HAIIOLD. 151
Then raising himself on one arm, while with
the other he pointed to Harold at the foot of the
bed, the King said
" Your hearts, I see, are with Harold the Earl .
so be it, je Foctroi"
At those words he fell back on his pillow ; a
loud shriek burst from his wife's lips ; all crowded
around ; he lay as the dead.
At the cry, and the indescribable movement of
the throng, the physician came quick from the
lower part of the hall. He made his way abruptly
to the bedside, and said chidingly, " Air, give him
air." The throng parted, the leach moistened the
King's pale lips with the cordial, but no breath
seemed to come forth, no pulse seemed to beat ;
and while the two prelates knelt before the human
body and by the blessed rood, the rest descended
the dais, and hastened to depart. Harold only
remained ; but he had passed from the foot to the
head of the bed.
The crowd had gained the centre of the hall,
when a sound that startled them as if it had come
from the grave, chained every footstep the
sound of the King's voice, loud, terribly distinct,
and full, as with the vigour of youth restored.
152 HAROLD.
All turned their eyes, appalled; all stood spell-
bound.
There sate the King upright on the bed, his
face seen above the kneeling prelates, and his eyes
bright and shining down the Hall.
" Yea," he said deliberately, " yea, as this
shall be a real vision or a false illusion, grant me,
Almighty One, the power of speech to tell it."
He paused a moment, and thus resumed :
" It was on the banks of the frozen Seine, this
day thirty-and-one winters ago, that two holy
monks, to whom the gift of prophecy was vouch-
safed, told me of direful woes that should fall on
England ; ' For God,' said they, ' after thy death,
has delivered England into the hand of the enemy,
and fiends shall wander over the land.' Then I
asked in my sorrow, * Can nought avert the
doom ? and may not my people free themselves by
repentance, like the Ninevites of old ? ' And the
Prophets answered, ' Nay, nor shall the calamity
cease, and the curse be completed, till a green tree
be sundered in twain, and the part cut off be
carried away ; yet move, of itself, to the ancient
trunk, unite to the stem, bud out with the blossom,
and stretch forth its fruit.' So said the monks, and
HAROLD. 153
even now, ere I spoke, I saw them again, there,
standing mute, and with the paleness of dead men,
by the side of my bed ! "
These words were said so calmly, and as it
were so rationally, that their import became
doubly awful from the cold precision of the tone.
A shudder passed through the assembly, and each
man shrunk from the King's eye, which seemed to
each man to dwell on himself. Suddenly that eye
altered in its cold beam; suddenly the voice
changed its deliberate accent ; the grey hairs
seemed to bristle erect, the whole face to work
with horror ; the arms stretched forth, the form
writhed on the couch, distorted fragments from
the older Testament rushed from the lips : " San-
cfiielac! Sanguelac! the Lake of Blood," shrieked
forth the dying King, " the Lord hath bent his
bow the Lord hath bared his sword. He comes
down as a warrior to war, and his wrath is in the
steel and the flame. He boweth the mountains,
and comes down, and darkness is under his feet !"
As if revived but for these tremendous de-
nunciations, as the last word left his lips the
frame collapsed, the eyes set, and the King fell
a corpse in the arms of Harold.
H3
154 HAROLD.
But one smile of the sceptic or the world-man
was seen on the paling lips of those present : that
smile was not on the lips of warriors and men of
mail. It distorted the sharpened features of Sti-
gand, the world-man and the miser, as, passing
down, and amidst the group, he said, " Tremble
ye at the dreams of a sick old man ?"*
* See note (A) at the end of the volume.
CHAPTER II.
THE time of year, customary for the National
Assembly; the recent consecration of Westminster,
for which Edward had convened all his chief
spiritual lords; the anxiety felt for the infirm
state of the King, and the interest as to the im-
pending succession all concurred to permit the
instantaneous meeting of a Wit an worthy, from
rank and numbers, to meet the emergency of the
time, and proceed to the most momentous elec-
tion ever yet known in England. The thegns and
prelates met in haste. Harold's marriage with
Aldyth, which had taken place but a few weeks
before, had united all parties with his own ; not a
claim counter to the great Earl's was advanced ;
the choice was unanimous. The necessity of
terminating at such a crisis all suspense through-
out the kingdom, and extinguishing the danger
156 HAROLD.
of all counter intrigues, forbade to men thus
united any delay in solemnizing their decision ;
and the august obsequies of Edward were followed
on the same day by the coronation of Harold.
It was in the body of the mighty Abbey Church,
not indeed as we see it now, after successive re-
storations and remodellings, but simple in its long
rows of Saxon arch and massive column, blending
the first Teuton with the last Roman masonries,
that the crowd of the Saxon freemen assembled to
honour the monarch of their choice. First Saxon
king, since England had been one monarchy,
selected not from the single House of Cerdic
first Saxon king, not led to the throne by the pale
shades of fabled ancestors tracing their descent
from the Father-God of the Teuton, but by the
spirits that never know a grave the arch eternal
givers of crowns, and founders of dynasties
Valour and Fame.
Aired and Stigand, the two great prelates of the
realm, had conducted Harold to the church,* and
* It seems by the coronation service of Ethelred II., still ex-
tant, that two bishops officiated in the crowning of the King ;
and hence, perhaps, the discrepancy in the chroniclers, some con-
tending that Harold was crowned by Aired, others, by Stigand.
It is noticeable, however, that it is the apologists of the Normans
HAROLD. 157
up the aisle to the altar, followed by the chiefs
of the Witan in their long robes ; and the clergy
with their abbots and bishops sung the anthems
" Fermetur manus tua" and " Gloria Patri."
And now the music ceased ; Harold prostrated
himself before the altar, and the sacred melody
burst forth with the great hymn, " Te Deum"
As it ceased, prelate and thegn raised their
chief from the floor, and in imitation of the old
custom of Teuton and Northman when the lord
of their armaments w r as borne on shoulder and
shield Harold mounted a platform, and rose in
full view of the crowd.
" Thus," said the Archprelate, " we choose
Harold son of Godwin for lord and for king."
And the thegns drew round, and placed hand on
Harold's knee, and cried aloud, " We choose thee,
O Harold, for lord and for king." And row by
who assign that office to Stigand, who was in disgrace with the
Pope, and deemed no lawful bishop. Thus in the Bayeux Ta-
pestry the label, " Stigand," is significantly affixed to the offici-
ating prelate, as if to convey insinuation, that Harold was not
lawfully crowned. Florence, by far the best authority, says dis-
tinctly, that Harold was crowned by Aired. The ceremonial of
the coronation described in the text, is for the most part given
on the authority of the Cotton MS., quoted by SHAEON TURNER,
vol. iii. p. 151.
158 HAROLD.
row, line by line, all the multitude shouted forth,
" We choose thee, Harold, for lord and king."
So there he stood with his calm brow, facing all,
Monarch of England and Basileus of Britain.
Now unheeded amidst the throng, and leaning
against a column in the arches of the aisle, was a
woman with her veil round her face ; and she
lifted the veil for a moment to gaze on that lofty
brow, and the tears were streaming fast down her
cheek, but her face was not sad.
" Let the vulgar not see, to pity or scorn thee,
daughter of kings as great as he who abandons
and forsakes thee !" murmured a voice in her ear ;
and the form of Hilda, needing no support from
column or wall, rose erect by the side of Edith.
Edith bowed her head and lowered the veil, as the
King descended the platform and stood again by
the altar, while clear through the hushed assembly
rang the words of his triple promise to his people :
" Peace to his Church and the Christian flock.
" Interdict of rapacity and injustice.
" Equity and mercy in his judgments, as God
the gracious and just might shew mercy to him."
And deep from the hearts of thousands came the
low " Amen!"
HAROLD. 159
Then after a short prayer, which each prelate
repeated, the crowd saw afar the glitter of the
crown held over the head of the King. The
voice of the consecrator was heard, low till it
came to the words " So potently and royally may
he rule, against all visible and invisible foes, that
the royal throne of the Angles and Saxons may
not desert his sceptre."
As the prayer ceased, came the symbolical rite
of anointment. Then pealed the sonorous organ,*
and solemn along the aisles rose the anthem
that closed with the chorus, which the voice of
the multitude swelled, "May the King live for
ever ! " Then the crown that had gleamed in the
trembling hand of the prelate, rested firm in its
splendour on the front of the King. And the
sceptre of rule, and the rod of justice, "to soothe
the pious and terrify the bad," were placed in the
royal hands. And the prayer and the blessings
were renewed, till the close ; " Bless, Lord, the
courage of this Prince, and prosper the works of
his hand. With his horn, as the horn of the
rhinoceros, may he blow the waters to the extre-
* Introduced into our churches in the ninth century.
160 HAROLD.
mines of the earth ; and may He who has ascended
to the skies be his aid for ever ! "
Then Hilda stretched forth her hand to lead
Edith from the place. But Edith shook her
head and murmured,
"But once again, but once !" and with involun-
tary step moved on.
Suddenly, close where she paused, the crowd
parted, and down the narrow lane so formed
amidst the wedged and breathless crowd, came
the august procession ; prelate and thegu swept
on from the church to the palace ; and alone, with
firm and measured step, the diadem on his brow,
the sceptre in his hand, came the King. Edith
checked the rushing impulse at her heart, but she
bent forward, with veil half drawn aside, and so
gazed on that face and form of more than royal
majesty, fondly, proudly. The King swept on
and saw her not ; love lived no more for him.
CHAPTER III.
THE boat shot over the royal Thames. Borne
along the waters, the shouts and the hymns of
swarming thousands from the land shook like
a blast, the gelid air of the Wolfmonth. All space
seemed filled and noisy with the name of Harold
the King. Fast rowed the rowers, on shot the
boat ; and Hilda's face, stern and ominous, turned
to the still towers of the palace, gleaming wide
and white in the wintry sun. Suddenly Edith
lifted her hand from her bosom, and said passion-
ately,
" Oh ! mother of my mother, I cannot live
again in the house where the very walls speak to
me of him; all things chain my soul to the
earth ; and my soul should be in heaven, that its
prayers may be heard by the heedful angels. The
day that the holy Lady of England predicted hath
162 HAROLD.
come to pass, and the silver cord is loosed at last.
Ah, why, why did I not believe her then ? why did
I then reject the cloister? Yet no, I will not repent ;
at least I have been loved ! But now I will go to
the nunnery of Waltham, and kneel at the altars
he hath hallowed to the raone and the monechyn."
"Edith," said the Vala, "thou wilt not bury
thy life yet young in the living grave! And,
despite all that now severs you yea, despite
Harold's new and loveless ties still clearer than
ever is it written in the heavens, that a day shall
come, in which you are to be evermore united.
Many of the shapes I have seen, many of the
sounds I have heard, in the trance and the dream,
fade in the troubled memory of waking life. But
never yet hath grown doubtful or dim the pro-
phecy, that the truth pledged by the grave shall
be fulfilled."
"Oh, tempt not! Oh, delude not!" cried Edith,
while the blood rushed over her brow. "Thou
knowest this cannot be. Another's! he is ano-
ther's ! and in the words thou hast uttered there
is deadly sin."
" There is no sin in the resolves of a fate that
rules us in spite of ourselves. Tarry only till the
HAROLD. 163
year bring round the birth-day of Harold ; for my
sayings shall be ripe with the grape, and when
the feet of the vineherd are red in the Month
of the Vine,* the Nornas shall knit ye together
again ! "
Edith clasped her hands mutely, and looked
hard into the face of Hilda, looked and shud-
dered, she knew not why.
The boat landed on the eastern shore of the
river, beyond the walls of the city, and then
Edith bent her way to the holy walls of Waltham.
The frost was sharp in the glitter of the un warm-
ing sun ; upon leafless boughs hung the barbed
ice-gems; and the crown was on the brows of
Harold ! And at night, within the walls of the
convent, Edith heard the hymns of the kneeling
monks; and the blasts howled, and the storm
arose, and the voices of destroying hurricanes
were blent with the swell of the choral hymns.
* The Wyn-month : October.
CHAPTER IV.
TOSTIG sate in the halls of Bruges, and with
him sate Judith, his haughty wife. The Earl
and his Countess were playing at chess, (or the
game resembling it, which amused the idlesse of
that age,) and the Countess had put her lord's
game into mortal disorder, when Tostig swept his
hand over the board, and the pieces rolled on the
floor.
" That is one way to prevent defeat," said
Judith, with a half smile and half frown.
" It is the way of the bold and the wise, wife
mine," answered Tostig rising, " let all be destruc-
tion where thou canst win not thyself! Peace to
these trifles I I cannot keep my mind to the mock
fight ; it flies to the real. Our last news sours the
taste of the wine, and steals the sleep from my
couch. It says that Edward cannot live through
HAROLD. 165
the winter, and that all men bruit abroad, there
can be no king save Harold my brother."
"And will thy brother as King give to thee
again thy domain as Earl ? "
" He must ! " answered Tostig, " and, despite
all our breaches, with soft message he will. For
Harold has the heart of the Saxon, to which the
sons of one father are dear ; and Githa, my mother,
when we first fled, controlled the voice of my
revenge, and bade me wait patient and hope yet."
Scarce had these words fallen from Tostig's
lips, when the chief of his Danish house-carles
came in, and announced the arrival of a bode from
England.
" His news? his news?" cried the Earl, " with
his own lips let him speak his news."
The house-carle withdrew but to usher in the
messenger, an Anglo-Dane.
"The weight on thy brow shows the load on
thy heart," cried Tostig. " Speak, and be brief."
" Edward is dead."
" Ha ! and who reigns ? "
" Thy brother is chosen and crowned."
The face of the Earl grew red and pale in a
braeth, and successive emotions of envy and old
166 HAROLD.
rivalsliip, humbled pride and fierce discontent,
passed across his turbulent heart. But these died
away as the predominant thought of self-interest,
and somewhat of that admiration for success
which seems oft like magnanimity in grasping
minds, and something too of haughty exultation,
that he stood a King's brother in the halls of his
exile, came to chase away the more hostile and
menacing feelings. Then Judith approached with
joy on her brow, and said,
" We shall no more eat the bread of depend-
ence even from the hand of a father ; and since
Harold hath no dame to proclaim to the Church,
and take throne on the dais, thy wife, O my
Tostig, will have state in fair England little less
than her sister in Rouen."
" Methinks so will it be," said Tostig. " How
now, nuncius ? why lookest thou so grim, and why
shakcst thou thy head ? "
" Small chance for thy dame to keep state in
the halls of the King ; small hope for thyself to
win back thy broad earldom. But a few weeks
ere thy brother won the crown, he won also a
bride in the house of thy spoiler and foe. Aldyth,
the sister of Edwin and Morcar, is Lady of
HAROLD. 167
England; and that union shuts thee out from
Northumbria for ever."
At these words, as if stricken by some deadly
and inexpressible insult, the Earl recoiled, and
stood a moment mute with rage and amaze. His
singular beauty became distorted into the linea-
ments of a fiend. He stamped with his foot, as
he thundered a terrible curse. Then, haughtily
waiving his hand to the bode in sign of dismissal,
he strode to and fro the room in gloomy per-
turbation.
Judith, like her sister Matilda, a woman fierce
and vindictive, continued, by that sharp venom
that lies in the tongue of the sex, to incite still
more the intense resentment of her lord. Perhaps
some female jealousies of Aldyth might contribute
to increase her own indignation. But without
such frivolous addition to anger, there was cause
enow in this marriage thoroughly to complete the
alienation between the King and his brother. It
was impossible that one so revengeful as Tostig
should not cherish the deepest animosity, not only
against the people that had rejected, but the new
Earl that had succeeded him. In wedding the
sister of this fortunate rival and despoiler, Harold
1 68 HAROLD.
could not, therefore, but gall him in his most sen-
sitive sores of soul. The King, thus, formally
approved and sanctioned his ejection, solemnly
took part with his foe, robbed him of all legal
chance of recovering his dominions, and, in the
words of the bode, " shut him out from Northum-
bria for ever." Nor was this even all. Grant his
return to England; grant a reconciliation with
Harold ; still those abhorred and more fortunate
enemies, necessarily made now the most intimate
part of the King's family, must be most in his
confidence, would curb and chafe and encounter
Tostig in every scheme for his personal aggran-
dizement. His foes, in a word, were in the camp
of his brother.
While gnashing his teeth with a wrath the
more deadly because he saw not yet his way to
retribution, Judith pursuing the separate thread
of her own cogitations, said,
" And if my sister's lord, the Count of the
Normans, had, as rightly he ought to have, suc-
ceeded his cousin the Monk-king, then I should
have a sister on the throne, and thou in her hus-
band a brother more tender than Harold. One
who supports his barons with sword and mail,
HAROLD. 160
and gives the villeins rebelling against them but
the brand and the cord."
" Ho ! " cried Tostig, stopping suddenly in his
disordered strides, " Kiss me, wife, for those words !
They have helped thee to power, and lit me to
revenge. If thou wouldst send love to thy sister,
take graphium and parchment, and write fast as
a scribe. Ere the sun is an hour older, I am on
my road to Count William."
VOL. nr.
CHAPTER V.
THE Duke of the Normans was in the forest,
or park land, of Rouvray, and his Quens and his
knights stood around him, expecting some new
proof of his strength and his skill with the bow. For
the Duke was trying some arrows, a weapon he was
ever employed in seeking to improve ; sometimes
shortening, sometimes lengthening, the shaft ; and
suiting the wing of the feather, and the weight of
the point, to the nicest refinement in the law of
mechanics. Gay and debonnair, in the brisk fresh
air of the frosty winter, the great Count jested
and laughed as the squires fastened a live bird by
the string to a stake in the distant sward ; and
" Pardex? said Duke William, " Conan of Bre-
tagne, and Philip of France, leave us now so
unkindly in peace, that I trow we shall never
again have larger butt for our fleches than the
breast of yon poor plumed trembler."
HAROLD. 17 J
As the Duke spoke and laughed, all the sere
boughs behind him rattled and cranched, and
a horse at full speed came rushing over the hard
rime of the sward. The Duke's smile vanished
in the frown of his pride. " Bold rider and grace-
less;" quoth he, "who thus comes in the presence
of counts and princes ? "
Right up to Duke William spurred the rider,
and then leaped from his steed ; vest and mantle,
yet more rich than the Duke's, all tattered and
soiled. No knee bent the rider, no cap did he
doff; but, seizing the startled Xorman with the
gripe of a hand as strong as his own, he led him
aside from the courtiers, and said,
" Thou knowest me, William ? though not thus
alone should I come to thy court, if I did not
bring thee a crown."
" Welcome, brave Tostig !" said the Duke,
marvelling. " What meanest thou ? nought but
good, by thy words and thy smile."
" Edward sleeps with the dead ! and Harold
is King of all England !"
" King ! England ! King ! " faltered William,
stammering in his agitation. " Edward dead !
Saints rest him ! England, then, is mine ! King !
i 2
172 HAROLD.
/ am the King! Harold hatli sworn it; my
Quens and prelates heard him ; the bones of the
saints attest the oath ! "
" Somewhat of this have I vaguely learned from
our beau-pere Count Baldwin ; more will I
learn at thy leisure ; but, take, meanwhile, my
word as Miles and Saxon, never, while there
is breath on his lips, or one beat in his heart, will
my brother, Lord Harold, give an inch of English
land to the Norman."
William turned pale and faint with emotion,
and leant for support against a leafless oak.
Busy were the rumours, and anxious the watch,
of the Quens and knights, as their Prince stood
long in the distant glade, conferring with the
rider, whom one or two of them had recognised as
Tostig, the spouse of Matilda's sister.
At length, side by side, still talking earnestly,
they regained the groupe; and William, sum-
moning the lord of Tancarville, bade him con-
duct Tostig to Rouen, the towers of which rose
through the forest trees. " Rest and refresh
thee, noble kinsman," said the Duke ; " see and
talk with Matilda. I will join thee anon."
The Earl re-mounted his steed, and saluting
HAROLD, 173
the company with a wild and hasty grace, soon
vanished amidst the groves.
Then William, seating himself on the sward,
mechanically unstrung his bow, sighing oft, and
oft frowning ; and without vouchsafing other
word to his lords than " No further sport to-day !"
rose slowly, and went alone through the thickest
parts of the forest. But his faithful Fitzosborne
marked his gloom, and fondly followed him. The
Duke arrived at the borders of the Seine, where
his galley waited him. He entered, sat down on
the bench, and took no notice of Fitzosborne, who
quietly stepped in after his lord, and placed him-
self on another bench.
The little voyage to Rouen was performed in
silence ; and as soon as he had gained his palace,
without seeking either Tostig or Matilda, the
Duke turned into the vast hall, in which he was
wont to hold council with his barons ; and walked
to and fro, " often " say the chronicles, " changing
posture and attitude, and oft loosening and
tightning, and drawing into knots, the strings of
his mantle."
Fitzosborne, meanwhile, had sought the ex-Earl,
who was closeted with Matilda ; and now return-
174 HAROLD.
ing, he went boldly up to the Duke, whom no one
else dared approach, and said :
" Why, my liege, seek to conceal what is already
known what ere the eve will be in the mouths
of all? You are troubled that Edward is dead,
and that Harold, violating his oath, has seized the
English realm."
" Truly," said the Duke mildly, and with the
tone of a meek man much injured ; " my dear
cousin's death, and the wrongs I have received
from Harold, touch me nearly."
Then said Fitzosborne, with that philosophy,
half grave as became the Scandinavian, half gay
as became the Frank : " No man should grieve
for what he can help still less for what he cannot
help. For Edward's death, I trow, remedy there
is none ; but for Harold's treason, yea ! Have
you not a noble host of knights and warriors?
What want you to destroy the Saxon and seize
his realm? What but a bold heart? A great
deed once well begun, is half done. Begin, Count
of the Normans, and we will complete the
rest."
Starting from his sorely tasked dissimulation; for
all William needed, and all of which he doubted,
HAROLD. 175
was the aid of his haughty barons ; the Duke
raised his head, and his eyes shone out.
" Ha, sayest thou so ! then, by the Splendour of
God, we will do this deed. Haste thou rouse
hearts, nerve hands promise, "menace, win! Broad
are the lands of England, and generous a con-
queror's hand. Go and prepare all my faithful
lords for a council, nobler than ever yet stirred
the hearts and strung the hands of the sons of
Rou.
CHAPTER VI.
BRIEF was the sojourn of Tostig at the court
of Eouen; speedily made the contract between
the grasping Duke and the revengeful traitor.
All that had been promised to Harold, was now
pledged to Tostig if the last would assist the
Norman to the English tlirone.
At heart, however, Tostig was ill satisfied.
His chance conversations with the principal
barons, who seemed to look upon the conquest of
England as the dream of a madman, showed
him how doubtful it was that William could in-
duce his Quens to a service, to which the tenure
of their fiefs did not appear to compel them ; and
at all events, he prognosticated delays, that little
suited his fiery impatience. He accepted the offer
of some two or three ships, which "William put at
his disposal, under pretence to reconnoitre the
HAROLD. 177
Northumbrian coasts, and there attempt a rising
in his own favour. But his discontent was in-
creased by the smallness of the aid afforded him ;
for William, ever suspicious, distrusted both his
faith and his power. Tostig, with all his vices,
was a poor dissimulator, and his sullen spirit
betrayed itself when he took leave of his host.
" Chance what may," said the fierce Saxon,
"no stranger shall seize the English crown
without my aid. I offer it first to thee. But
thou must come to take it in time, or "
" Or what ? " asked the Duke, gnawing his lip.
" Or the Father race of Rou will be before thee !
My horse paws without. Farewell to thee, Nor-
man; sharpen thy swords, hew out thy vessels,
and goad thy slow barons."
Scarce had Tostig departed, ere William began
to repent that he had so let him depart ; but
seeking counsel of Lanfranc, that wise minister
reassured him.
" Fear no rival, son and lord," said he. " The
bones of the dead are on thy side, and little thou
knowest, as yet, how mighty their fleshless arms.
All Tostig can do is to distract the forces of Harold.
Leave him to work out his worst ; nor then be in
i 3
178 11 AHOLD.
haste. Much hath yet to be done cloud must
gather and fire must form, ere the bolt can be
launched. Send to Harold mildly, and gently
remind him of oath and of relics of treaty and
pledge. Put right on thy side, and then "
"Ah, what then?"
"Rome shall curse the forsworn Rome shall
hallow thy banner ; this be no strife of force
against force, but a war of religion ; and thou
shalt liave on thy side the conscience of man, and
the arm of the Church,"
Meanwhile, Tostig embarked at Harfleur;
but instead of sailing to the northern coasts of
England, he made for one of the Flemish ports :
and there, under various pretences, new manned
the Norman vessels with Flemings, Fins, and
Northmen. His meditations during his voyage
had decided him not to trust to William ; and he
now bent his course, with fair wind and favouring
weather, to the shores of his maternal uncle, King
iSweyn of Denmark.
In truth, to all probable calculation, his change
of purpose was politic. The fleets of England
were numerous, and her seamen renowned. The
Normans had neither experience nor fame in
HAROLD. 179
naval fights ; their navy itself was scarcely formed.
Thus, even William's landing in England was an
enterprise arduous and dubious. Moreover, even
granting the amplest success, would not this
Norman Prince, so profound and ambitious, be a
more troublesome lord to Earl Tostig than his
own uncle Sweyn ?
So, forgetful of the compact at Rouen, no
sooner had the Saxon lord come in presence of
the King of the Danes, than he urged on his
kinsman the glory of winning again the sceptre
of Canute.
A brave, but a cautious and wily veteran, was
King Sweyn ; and a few days before Tostig
arrived, he had received letters from his sister
Githa, who, true to Godwin's command, had held
all that Harold did and counselled, as between
himself and his brother, wise and just. These
letters had placed him on his guard, and shown
him the true state of affairs in England. So
King Sweyn, smiling, thus answered his nephew
Tostig :
" A great man was Canute, a small man am I :
scarce can I keep my Danish dominion from the
gripe of the Norwegian, while Canute took Nor-
180 HAROLD.
way without slash and blow;* but great as he
was, England cost him hard fighting to win, and
sore peril to keep. Wherefore, best for the small
man to rule by the light of his own little sense,
nor venture to count on the luck of great Canute ;
for luck but goes with the great."
" Thine answer," said Tostig, with a bitter sneer,
"is not what I expected from an uncle and
warrior. But other chiefs may be found less
afraid of the luck of high deeds."
" So," saith the Norwegian chronicler, " not
just the best friends, the Earl left the King,"
and went on in haste to Harold Hardrada of
Norway.
True Hero of the North, true darling of War
and of Song, was Harold Hardrada ! At the ter-
rible battle of Stiklestad, at which his brother, St.
Olave, had fallen, he was but fifteen years of age,
but his body was covered with the wounds of a
veteran. Escaping from the field, he lay con-
cealed in the house of a Bonder peasant, remote in
deep forests, till his wounds were healed. Thence,
chaunting by the way, (for a poet's soul burned
bright in Hardrada,) " That a day would come
SXOKRO SttniLEsow. Lainy.
HAROLD. 181
when his name would be great in the land he now
left," he went on into Sweden, thence into
Russia, and after wild adventures in the East,
joined, with the bold troop he had collected
around him, that famous body guard of the
Greek emperors,* called the Vasringers, and of
these he became the chief. Jealousies between him-
self and the Greek General of the Imperial forces,
(whom the Norwegian chronicler calls Gyrger,)
ended in Harold's retirement with his Vseringers
into the Saracen land of Africa. Eighty castles
stormed and taken, vast plunder in gold and in
jewels, and nobler meed in the song of the Scald,
and the praise of the brave, attested the prowess
of the great Scandinavian. New laurels, blood-
stained, new treasures, sword-won, awaited him
in Sicily ; and thence, rough foretype of the
coming crusader, he passed on to Jerusalem.
His sword swept before him Moslem and robber.
* The Vasringers, or Varangi, mostly Northmen ; this re-
doubtable force, the Janissaries of the Byzantine empire, afforded
brilliant field, both of fortune and war, to the discontented spirits,
or outlawed heroes of the North. It was joined afterwards by many
of the bravest and best born of the Saxon Nobles, refusing to
dwell under the yoke of the Norman. SCOTT, in Count Robert of
Paris, which, if not one of his best romances, is yet full of truth
and beauty, has described this renowned band with much
poetic vigour and historical fidelity.
182 HAROLD.
He bathed in Jordan, and knelt at the Holy
Cross.
Returned to Constantinople, the desire for his
northern home seized Hardrada. There he heard
that his nephew Alagnus, the illegitimate son of St.
Olave, had become king of Norway, and he him-
self aspired to a throne. So he gave up his command
under Zoe the empress ; but, if Scald be believed,
Zoe the empress loved the bold chief, whose
heart was set on Maria her niece. To detain
Hardrada, a charge of mal-appropriation, whether
of pay or of booty, was brought against him.
He was cast into prison. But when the brave
are in danger, the saints send the fair to their
help ! Moved by a holy dream, a Greek lady
lowered ropes from the roof of the tower to the
dungeon wherein Hardrada was cast. He escaped
from the prison, he aroused his Vasringers, they
flocked round their chief; he went to the house of
his lady Maria, bore her off to the galley, put out
into the Black Sea, reached Novgorod, (at the
friendly court of whose king he had safely lodged
his vast spoils,) sailed home to the north ; and, after
such feats as became sea-king of old, received half
of Norway from Magnus, and on the death of his
HAROLD. 183
nephew the whole of that kingdom passed to
his sway. A king BO wise and so wealthy, so
bold and so dread, had never yet been known in
the north. And this was the king to whom came
Tostig the Earl, with the offer of England's
crown.
It was one of the glorious nights of the north,
and winter had already begun to melt into early
spring, when two men sate under a kind of rustic
porch of rough pine- logs, not very unlike those
seen now in Switzerland and the Tyrol. This
porch was constructed before a private door, to
the rear of a long, low, irregular building of wood
which enclosed two or more court-yards, and cover-
ing an immense space of ground. This private
door seemed placed for the purpose of immediate
descent to the sea ; for the ledge of the rock over
which the log-porch spread its rude roof, jutted
over the ocean ; and from it a rugged stair, cut
through the crag, descended to the beach. The
shore, with bold, strange, grotesque slab, and
peak, and splinter, curved into a large creek ; and
close under the cliff were moored seven war-ships,
high and tall, with prows and sterns all gorgeous
with gilding in the light of the splendid moon.
184 HAROLD.
And that rude timber house, which seemed but a
chain of barbarian huts linked into one, was a
land palace of Hardrada of Norway ; but the true
halls of his royalty, the true seats of his empire,
were the decks of those lofty war-ships.
Throughjthe small lattice-work of the windows
of the log-house, lights blazed ; from the roof-top,
smoke curled ; from the hall on the other side of
the dwelling, came the din of tumultuous wassail,
but the intense stillness of the outer air, hushed
in frost, and luminous with stars, contrasted and
seemed to rebuke the gross sounds of human
revel. And that northern night seemed almost
as bright as, (but how much more augustly calm,
than) the noon of the golden south I
On a table within the ample porch was an im-
mense bowl of birchwood, mounted in silver, and
filled with potent drink, and two huge horns, of
size suiting the mighty wassailers of the age.
The two men seemed to care nought for the stern
air of the cold night true that they were wrapped
in furs reft from the Polar bear. But each had
hot thoughts within, that gave greater warmth to
the veins than the bowl or the bearskin.
They were host and guest ; and as if with the
HAROLD. 185
restlessness of his thoughts, the host arose from
his seat, and passed through the porch and stood on
the bleak rock under the light of the moon ; and so
seen, he seemed scarcely human, but some war-
chief of the farthest time, yea, of a time ere the
deluge had shivered those rocks, and left beds on the
land for the realm of that icy sea. For Harold
Hardrada was in height above all the children of
modern men. Five ells of Norway made the height
of Harold Hardrada.* Nor was this stature accom-
panied by any of those imperfections in symmetry,
nor by that heaviness of aspect, which generally
render any remarkable excess above human stature
and strength rather monstrous than commanding.
On the contrary, his proportions were just, his
appearance noble; and the sole defect that the
chronicler ^remarks in his shape, was " that his
* LAING'S SNORRO STURLESON. " The old Norwegian ell, was
less than the present ell ; and Thorlasius reckons, in a note on
this chapter, that Harold's stature would he about four Danish
ells ; viz. about eight feet." LAING'S note to the text. Allowing
for the exaggeration of the chronicler, it seems probable at least,
that Hardrada exceeded seven feet. Since, (as Laing remarks in
the same note,) and as we shall see hereafter, " our English Harold
offered him, according to both English and Danish authority,
seven feet of land for a grave, or as much more, as his stature
exceeding that of other men, might require."
186 HAROLD.
hands and feet were large, but these were well
made." *
His face had all the fair beauty of the Norse-
man ; his hair, parted in locks of gold over a brow
that bespoke the daring of the warrior and the
genius of the bard, fell in glittering profusion to
his shoulders ; a short beard and long moustache of
the same colour as the hair, carefully trimmed,
added to the grand and masculine beauty of the
countenance, in which the only blemish was the
peculiarity of one eyebrow being somewhat higher
than the other, f which gave something more
sinister to his frown, something more arch to his
smile. For, quick of impulse, the Poet-Titan
smiled and frowned often.
Harold Hardrada stood in the light of the
moon, and gazing thoughtfully on the luminous sea.
Tostig marked him for some moments where he
sate in the porch, and then rose and joined him.
" Why should my words so disturb thee, O
king of the Norseman ?"
" Is glory, then, a drug that soothes to sleep ? "
returned the Norwegian.
SHOK&O STVRLXSOX. See note (B) at the end of tlie Volume,
f Ibid.
HAROLD. 187
"I like thine answer," said Tostig smiling, "and
I like still more to watch thine eye gazing on the
prows of thy war-ships. Strange indeed it were
if thou, who hast been fighting fifteen years for
the petty kingdom of Denmark, shouldst hesitate
now, when all England lies before thee to
seize."
" I hesitate," replied the King, " because he
whom Fortune has befriended so long, should
beware how he strain her favours too far. Eigh-
teen pitched battles fought I in the Saracen land,
and in every one was a victor never, at home or
abroad have I known shame and defeat. Doth the
wind always blow from one point? and is Fate less
unstable than the wind ? "
" Now, out on thee, Harold Hardrada," said
Tostig the fierce ; " the good pilot wins his way
through all winds, and the brave heart fastens
fate to its flag. All men allow that the North
never had warrior like thee ; and now, in the mid-
day of manhood, wilt thou consent to repose on
the mere triumph of youth?"
" Nay," said the King, who, like all true poets,
had something of the deep sense of a sage, and
was, indeed, regarded as the most prudent as well
188 HAROLD.
:i- the most adventurous chief in the North
land, "nfiy, it is not by such words, which my
soul seconds too well, that thou canst entrap a
ruler of men. Thou must show me the chances
of success, as thou wouldst to a grey-beard. For
we should be as old men before we engage, and
as youths when we wish to perform."
Then the traitor succinctly detailed all the weak
points in the rule of his brother. A treasury
exhausted by the lavish and profitless waste of
Edward ; a land without castle or bulwark, even
at the mouths of the rivers ; a people grown
inert by long peace, and so accustomed to own lord
and king in the northern invaders, that a single
successful battle might induce half the population to
insist on the Saxon coming to terms with the foe,
and yielding, as Ironside did to Canute, one half
of the realm. He enlarged on the terror of the
Norsemen that still existed throughout England,
and the affinity between the Northumbrians and
East Anglians with the race of Hardrada. That
affinity would not prevent them from resisting at
the first ; but grant success, and it would reconcile
them to the after sway. And, finally, he aroused
Ilardrada's emulation by the spur of the ru
HAROLD. 189
that the Count of the Normans would seize the
prize if he himself delayed to forestall him.
These various representations, and the remem-
brance of Canute's victory, decided Hardrada;
and, when Tostig ceased, he stretched his hand
towards his slumbering war-ships, and exclaimed :
" Eno' ; you have whetted the beaks of the
ravens, and harnessed the steeds of the sea I"
CHAPTER VII.
MEAN WHILE, King Harold of England had
made himself dear to his people, and been true to
the fame he had won as Harold the Earl. From
the moment of his accession, " he showed himself
pious, humble, and affable,* and omitted no oc-
casions to show any token of bounteous liberality,
gentleness, and courteous behaviour."- "The
grievous customs also, and taxes which his prede-
cessors had raised, he either abolished or dimi-
nished; the ordinary wages of his servants and
men-of-war he increased, and further showed
himself very well bent to all virtue and goodness. "f
Extracting the pith from these eulogies, it is
clear that, as wise statesman no less than as
good king, Harold sought to strengthen himself
* HoVEDEN.
f UOLUXSBKD. Nearly all chroniclers, (even, with scarce an
exception, those most favouring the Normans,) concur in the
abilities and merits of Harold as a king.
HAJIOLD. 191
in the three great elements of regal power ; Con-
ciliation of the Church, which had been opposed
to his father ; The popular affection, on which his
sole claim to the crown reposed ; And the military
force of the land, which had been neglected in the
reign of his peaceful predecessor.
To the young Atheling he accorded a respect
not before paid to him ; and, while investing the
descendant of the ancient line, with princely
state, and endowing him with large domains,
his soul, too great for jealousy, sought to give
more substantial power to his own most legiti-
mate rival, by tender care and noble counsels,
by efforts to raise a character feeble by nature,
and denationalized by foreign rearing. In the
same broad and generous policy, Harold en-
couraged all the merchants from other countries
who had settled in England, nor were even such
Normans as had escaped the general sentence of
banishment on Godwin's return, disturbed in their
possessions. " In brief," saith the Anglo-Norman
chronicler,* "no man was more prudent in the land,
more valiant in arms, in the law more sagacious, in
all probity more accomplished: " and "Ever active,"
says more mournfully the Saxon writer, " for the
* Vit, Harold. Cliron. A ny. Norm. ii. 243.
1 92 II AHOLD.
good of his country, he spared himself no fatigue
by land or by sea,"*
From this time, Harold's private life ceased.
Love and its charms were no more. The glow of
romance had vanished. He was not one man ; he
was the state, the representative, the incarnation
of Saxon England : his sway and the Saxoii
freedom, to live or fall together !
The soul really grand is only tested in its
errors. As we know the true might of the
intellect by the rich resources and patient strength
with which it redeems a failure, so do we prove
the elevation of the soul by its courageous return
into light, its instinctive rebound into liigher air,
after some error that has darkened its vision and
soiled its plumes. A spirit less noble and pure
than Harold's, once entering on the dismal world
of enchanted superstition, had habituated itself
to that nether atmosphere ; once misled from
hardy truth and healthful reason, it had plunged
deeper and deeper into the maze. But, unlike his
contemporary, Macbeth, the Man escaped from
the lures of the Fiend. Not as Hecate in hell,
but as Dian in heaven, did he confront the pale
Goddess of Night. Before that hour in which he
* HoVBDEN.
HAROLD. 1 93
had deserted the human judgment for the ghostly
delusion; before that day in which the brave
heart, in its sudden desertion, had humbled his
pride the man, in his nature, was more strong
than the god. Now, purified by the flame that
had scorched, and more nerved from the fall that
had stunned, that great soul rose sublime through
the wrecks of the Past, serene through the clouds
of the Future, concentering in its solitude the
destinies of Mankind, and strong with instinctive
Eternity amidst all the terrors of Time.
King Harold came from York, whither he had
gone to cement the new power of Morcar, in
Northumbria, and personally to confirm the alle-
giance of the Anglo-Danes : King Harold came
from York, and in the halls of Westminster he
found a monk who awaited him with the messages
of William the Norman.
Bare-footed, and serge-garbed, the Norman en-
voy strode to the Saxon's chair of state. His form
was worn with mortification and fast, and his face
was hueless and livid with the perpetual struggle
between zeal and the flesh.
" Thus saith William, Count of the Normans,"
began Hugues Maigrot, the monk.
VOL. III. K
194 HAROLD.
" With grief and amaze hath he heard that you,
O Harold, his sworn liege-man, have, contrary to
oath and to fealty, assumed the crown that belongs
to himself. But, confiding in thy conscience, and
forgiving a moment's weakness, he summons thee,
mildly and brother-like, to fulfil thy vow. Send thy
sister, that he may give her in marriage to one of
his Quens. Give him up the stronghold of Dover ;
march to thy coast with thine armies to aid him,
thy liege lord, and secure him the heritage of
Edward his cousin. And thou shalt reign at his
right-hand, his daughter thy bride, Northumbria
thy fief, and the saints thy protectors."
The King's lip was firm, though pale, as he
answered :
" My young sister, alas ! is no more : seven
nights after I ascended the throne, she died :
her dust in the grave is all I could send to
the arms of the bridegroom. I cannot wed the
child of thy Count : the wife of Harold sits beside
him." And he pointed to the proud beauty of
Aldyth, enthroned under the drapery of gold.
" For the vow that I took, I deny it not. But
from a vow of compulsion, menaced with unworthy
captivity, extorted from my lips by the very need
HAROLD. 195
of the land whose freedom had been bound in my
chains from a vow so compelled, Church and
conscience absolve me. If the vow of a maiden
on whom to bestow but her hand, when unknown
to her parents is judged invalid by the Church,
how much more invalid the oath that would bestow
on a stranger the fates of a nation,* against its
knowledge, and unconsulting its laws ! This
royalty of England hath ever rested on the will
of the people, declared through its chiefs in their
solemn assembly. They who alone could bestow
it, have bestowed it on me : I have no power to
resign it to another and were I in my grave,
the trust of the crown would not pass to the
Norman, but return to the Saxon people."
" Is this, then, thine answer, unhappy json ?"
said the monk, with a sullen and gloomy aspect.
" Such is my answer."
" Then, sorrowing for thee, I utter the words
of William. * With sword and with mail will he
come to punish the perjurer; and by the aid of
St. Michael, archangel of war, he will conquer
his own.' Amen !"
"By sea and by land, with sword and with
* MALMESBURY.
K2
196 HAROLD.
mail, will we meet the invader," answered the
King, with a flashing eye. " Thou hast said : so
depart."
The monk turned and withdrew.
" Let the priest's insolence chafe thee not, sweet
lord," said Aldyth, " For the vow which thou
mightest take as subject, what matters it now thou
art king?"
Harold made no answer to Aldyth, but turned to
his Chamberlain, who stood behind his throne chair.
" Are my brothers without ?"
"They are: and my lord the King's chosen
council"
" Admit them : pardon, Aldyth ; affairs fit only
for men claim me now."
The Lady of England took the hint, and rose.
" But the even-mete will summon thee soon,"
said she.
Harold, who had already descended from his
chair of state, and was bending over a casket of
papers on the table, replied,
"There is food kereiiU the morrow; wait me not."
Aldyth sighed, and withdrew at the one door,
while the thegns most in Harold's confidence en-
tered at the other. But, once surrounded by her
HAROLD. 197
maidens, Aldyth forgot all, save that she was again
a queen, forgot all, even to the earlier and less
gorgeous diadem which her lord's hand had shat-
tered on the brows of the son of Pendragon.
Leofwine, still gay and blithe-hearted, entered
first ; Gurth followed, then Haco, then some half
score of the greater thegns.
They seated themselves at the table, and Gurth
spoke first
" Tostig has been with Count William."
" I know it," said Harold.
" It is rumoured that he has passed to our uncle
Sweyn."
" I foresaw it," said the King.
" And that Sweyn will aid him to reconquer
England for the Dane."
"My bode reached Sweyn, with letters from
Githa, before Tostig ; my bode has returned this
day. Sweyn has dismissed Tostig : Sweyn will
send fifty ships, armed with picked men, to the aid
of England."
"Brother," cried Leofwine admiringly, "thou
providest against danger ere we but surmise it."
" Tostig," continued the King, unheeding the
compliment, " will be the first assailant : him
198 HAROLD.
we must meet. His fast friend is Malcolm of
Scotland : him we must secure. Go thou, Leof-
wine, with these letters to Malcolm. The next
fear is from the Welch. Go thou, Edwin of
Mercia, to the princes of Wales. On thy way,
strengthen the forts and deepen the dykes of the
marches. These tablets hold thy instructions. The
Norman, as doubtless ye know, my thegns, hath
sent to demand our crown, and hath announced
the coming of his war. With the dawn I depart
to our port at Sandwich,* to muster our fleets.
Thou with me, Gurth."
" These preparations need much treasure," said
an old thegn, " and thou hast lessened the taxes at
the hour of need."
" Not yet is it the hour of need. When it
comes, our people will the more readily meet it
with their gold as with their iron. There was
great wealth in the house of Godwin ; that wealth
mans the ships of England. What hast thou
there, Haco?"
" Thy new-issued coin : it hath on its reverse
the word <PEACE.'"t
* Supposed to be our first port for ship-building. FOSBROOKE,
p. 820.
f Pax.
HAROLD. 199
Who ever yet saw one of those coins of the Last
Saxon King, the bold simple head on the one side,
that single word " Peace" on the other, and did not
feel awed and touched ! What pathos in that
word compared with the fate which it failed to
propitiate !
"Peace," said Harold: "to all that doth not
render peace, slavery. Yea, may I live to leave
peace to our children ! Now, peace only rests on
our preparation for war. You, Morcar, will re-
turn with all speed to York, and look well to the
mouth of the Humber."
Then, turning to each of the thegns succes-
sively, he gave to each his post and his duty ;
and that done, converse grew more general. The
many things needful that had been long rotting
in neglect under the Monk-king, and now sprang
up, craving instant reform, occupied them long
and anxiously. But cheered and inspirited
by the vigour and foresight of Harold, whose
earlier slowness of character seemed winged by
the occasion into rapid decision (as is not un-
common with the Englishman), all difficulties
seemed light, and hope and courage were in every
breast.
CHAPTER VIII.
BACK went Hugues Maigrot, the monk, to Wil-
liam, and told the reply of Harold to the Duke,
in the presence of Lanfranc. William himself
heard it in gloomy silence, for Fitzosborne as yet
had been wholly unsuccessful in stirring up the
Norman barons to an expedition so hazardous, in
a cause so doubtful ; and though prepared for the
defiance of Harold, the Duke was not prepared
with the means to enforce his threats and make
good his claim.
So great was his abstraction, that he suffered
the Lombard to dismiss the monk without a word
spoken by him ; and he was first startled from his
reverie by Lanfranc's pale hand on his vast
shoulder, and Lanfranc's low voice in his dreamy
ear
" Up ! Hero of Europe : for thy cause is won !
HAROLD. 201
Up ! and write with thy bold characters, bold as
if graved with the point of the sword, my creden-
tials to Rome. Let me depart ere the sun sets ;
and as I go, look on the sinking orb, and behold
the sun of the Saxon that sets evermore on
England!"
Then briefly, that ablest statesman of the age,
(and forgive him, despite our modern lights, we
must ; for, sincere son of the Church, he regarded
the violated oath of Harold as entailing the legi-
timate forfeiture of his realm, and, ignorant of true
political freedom, looked upon Church and Learn-
ing as the only civilizers of men,) then, briefly, Lan-
franc detailed to the listening Norman, the outline
of the arguments by which he intended to move
the Pontifical court to the Norman side; and en-
larged upon the vast accession throughout all
Europe which the solemn sanction of the Church
would bring to his strength. William's re-awaking
and ready intellect soon seized upon the import-
ance of the object pressed upon him. He inter-
rupted the Lombard, drew pen and parchment
towards him, and wrote rapidly. Horses were
harnessed, horsemen equipped in haste, and with
no unfitting retinue Lanfranc departed on the
K3
202 HAROLD.
mission, the most important in its consequences
that ever passed from potentate to pontiff.* Re-
braced to its purpose by Lanfranc's cheering
assurances, the resolute, indomitable soul of Wil-
liam now applied itself, night and day, to the
difficult task of rousing his haughty vavasours.
Yet weeks passed before he could even meet a
select council composed of his own kinsmen and
most trusted lords. These, however, privately
won over, promised to serve him " with body and
goods." But one and all they told him, he must
gain the consent of the whole principality in a
general council. That council was convened :
thither came not only lords and knights, but mer-
chants and traders, all the rising middle class of
a thriving state.
The Duke bared his wrongs, his claims, and his
schemes. The assembly would not or did not
discuss the matter in his presence, they would not
be awed by its influence ; and William retired from
* Some of the Norman chroniclers state, that Robert, Arch-
bishop of Canterbury, who had been expelled from England
at Godwin's return, was Lanfranc's companion in this mission ;
but more trustworthy authorities assure us that Robert had been
dead some yean before, not long surviving his return into
Normandy.
HAROLD. 203
the hall. Various were the opinions, stormy the
debate ; and so great the disorder grew, that Fitz-
osborne, rising in the midst, exclaimed
" Why this dispute ? why this unduteous
discord? Is not William your lord? Hath he
not need of you ? Fail him now and, you know
him well by G he will remember it I Aid
him and you know him well large are his
rewards to service and love !"
Up rose at once baron and merchant ; and when
at last their spokesman was chosen, that spokes-
man said,
" William is our lord ; is it not enough to pay
to our lord his dues ? No aid do we owe beyond
the seas ! Sore harassed and taxed are we already
by his wars ! Let him fail in this strange and
unparalleled hazard, and our land is undone !"
Loud applause followed this speech ; the ma-
jority of the council were against the Duke.
" Then," said Fitzosborne craftily, " I, who
know the means of each man present, will, with
your leave, represent your necessities to your
Count, and make such modest offer of assistance
as may please ye, yet not chafe your liege."
Into the trap of this proposal the opponents
204 HAROLD.
fell; and Fitzosborne, at the head of the body,
returned to William.
The Lord of Breteul approached the dais, on
which William sate alone, his great sword in his
hand, and thus spoke,
" My liege, I may well say that never prince
had people more leal than yours, nor that have
more proved their faith and love by the burdens
they have borne and the monies they have
granted."
An universal murmur of applause followed
these words. " Good ! good !" almost shouted the
merchants especially. William's brows met, and
he looked very terrible. The lord of Breteul
gracefully waived his hand, and resumed,
" Yea, my liege, much have they borne for your
glory and need ; much more will they bear."
The faces of the audience fell.
" Their service does not compel them to aid you
beyond the seas."
The audience brightened.
" But now they will aid you, in the land of the
Saxon as in that of the Frank."
" How ?" cried a stray voice or two.
" Hush, O gentilz amys. Forward, then, O my
HAROLD. 205
liege, and spare them in nought. He who has
hitherto supplied you with two good mounted
soldiers, will now grant you four ; and he who "
" No, no, no !" roared two-thirds of the as-
sembly ; " we charged you with no such answer ;
we said not that, nor that shall it be !"
Out stepped a baron.
" Within this country, to defend it, we will serve
our Count; but to aid him to conquer another
man's country, no !"
Out stepped a knight.
" If once we rendered this double service, be-
yond seas as at home, it would be held a right
and a custom hereafter ; and we should be as mer-
cenary soldiers, not free-born Normans."
Out stepped a merchant.
" And we and our children would be burdened
for ever to feed one man's ambition, whenever he
saw a king to dethrone, or a realm to seize."
And then cried a general chorus,
" It shall not be it shall not !"
The assembly broke at once into knots of tens,
twenties, thirties, gesticulating and speaking loud,
like freemen in anger. And ere William, with all
his prompt dissimulation, could do more than
206 HAROLD.
*
smother his rage, and sit griping his sword hilt,
and setting his teeth, the assembly dispersed.
Such were the free souls of the Normans under
the greatest of their chiefs ; and had those souls
been less free, England had not been enslaved
in one age, to become free again, God grant, to the
end of time !
CHAPTER IX.
THROUGH the blue skies over England there
rushed the bright stranger a meteor, a comet,
a fiery star ! " such as no man before ever saw ;"
it appeared on the 8th, before the kalends
of May ; seven nights did it shine,* and the faces
of sleepless men were pale under the angry glare.
The river of Thames rushed blood-red in the
beam, the winds at play on the broad waves of the
Humber, broke the surge of the billows into
sparkles of fire. With three streamers, sharp and
long as the sting of a dragon, the foreboder of
wrath rushed through the hosts of the stars. On
every ruinous fort, by sea-coast and march, the
warder crossed his breast to behold it ; on hill and
in thoroughfare, crowds nightly assembled to gaze
on the terrible star. Muttering hymns, monks
* Saxon Clironide.
208 HAROLD.
huddled together round the altars, as if to exor-
cise the land of a demon. The gravestone of the
Saxon father-chief was lit up, as with the coil of
the lightning ; and the Morthwyrtha looked from
the mound, and saw in her visions of awe the
Valkyrs in the train of the fiery star.
On the roof of his palace stood Harold the
King, and with folded arms he looked on the
Rider of Night. And up the stairs of the turret
came the soft steps of Haco, and stealing near to
the King, he said, .
" Arm in haste, for the bodes have come breath-
less to tell thee that Tostig, thy brother, with
pirate and war-ship, is wasting thy shores and
slaughtering thy people !"
CHAPTER X.
TOSTIG, with the ships he had gained both from
Norman and Norwegian, recruited by Flemish
adventurers, fled fast from the banners of Harold.
After plundering the Isle of Wight, and the
Hampshire coasts, he sailed up the Humber,
where his vain heart had counted on friends yet
left him in his ancient earldom ; but Harold's soul
of vigour was everywhere. Morcar, prepared by
the King's bodes, encountered and chased the
traitor, and, deserted by most of his ships, with
but twelve small craft Tostig gained the shores of
Scotland. There, again forestalled by the Saxon
king, he failed in succour from Malcolm, and,
retreating to the Orkneys, waited the fleets of
Hardrada.
And now Harold, thus at freedom for defence
against a foe more formidable and less unnatural,
210 HAROLD.
hastened to make secure both the sea and the
coast against William the Norman. " So great a
ship force, so great a land force, no king in
the land had before." All the summer, his fleets
swept the channel ; his forces " lay every where by
the sea."
But alas ! now came the time when the impro-
vident waste of Edward began to be felt. Pro-
visions and pay for the armaments failed.* On
the defective resources at Harold's disposal, no
modern historian hath sufficiently dwelt. The last
Saxon king, the chosen of the people, had not
those levies, and could impose not those burdens,
which made his successors mighty in war; and
men began now to think that, after all, there was
no fear of this Norman invasion. The summer
was gone ; the autumn was come ; was it
likely that William would dare to trust him-
self in an enemy's country as the winter drew
near ? The Saxon character, naturally peace-
ful, willing to fight when there was absolute
need, but loathing the tedious preparations and
* Saxon Chronicle. " When it was the nativity of St. Mary,
then were the men's provisions gone, and no man could any
longer keep them there."
HAROLD. 211
costly sacrifices for war not yet actually thun-
dering at the door, revolted from this strain on
its energies. Joyous at the temporary defeat
of Tostig, men said, " Marry, a joke indeed, that
the Norman will put Ms shaven head into the
hornet's nest ! Let him come, if he dare !"
Still, with desperate effort, and at much risk of
popularity, Harold kept together a force sufficient
to repel any single invader. From the time of
his accession his sleepless vigilance had kept
watch on the Norman, and his spies brought him
news of all that passed.
And now what had passed in the councils of
William ? The abrupt disappointment which the
Grand Assembly had occasioned him did not last
very long. Made aware that he could not trust to
the spirit of an assembly, William now artfully
summoned merchant, and knight, and baron, one
by one. Submitted to the eloquence, the pro-
mises, the craft, of that master intellect, and the
awe of that imposing presence ; unassisted by the
courage which inferiors take from numbers, one
by one yielded to the will of the Count, and
subscribed his quota for monies, for ships, and
for men. And while this went on, Lanfranc
212 HAROLD.
was at work in the Vatican. At that time the
Archdeacon of the Roman Church was the
famous Hiklebrand. This extraordinary man,
fit fellow -spirit to Lanfranc, nursed one darling
project, the success of which indeed founded
the true temporal power of the Roman pon-
tiffs. It was no less than that of converting
the mere religious ascendency of the Holy See
into the actual sovereignty over the states of
Christendom. The most immediate agents for this
gigantic scheme were the Normans, who had con-
quered Naples by the arm of the adventurer
Robert Guiscard, and under the gonfanon of St.
Peter. Most of the new Norman countships and
dukedoms thus created in Italy had declared
themselves fiefs of the Church ; and the successor
of the Apostle might well hope, by aid of the
Norman priest-knights, to extend his sovereignty
over Italy, and thence dictate to the kings beyond
the Alps.
The aid of Hildebrand in behalf of William's
claims was obtained at once by Lanfranc. The
profound Archdeacon of Rome saw at a glance
the immense power that would accrue to the
Church by the mere act of arrogating to itself the
HAROLD. 213
disposition of crowns, subjecting rival princes to
abide by its decision, and fixing the men of its
choice on the thrones of the North. Despite all
its slavish superstition, the Saxon Church was
obnoxious to Rome. Even the pious Edward had
offended, by withholding the old levy of Peter
Pence ; and simony, a crime peculiarly reprobated
by the pontiff, was notorious in England. There-
fore there was much to aid Hildebrand in the
Assembly of the Cardinals, when he brought
before them the oath of Harold, the violation of
the sacred relics, and demanded that the pious
Normans, true friends to the Roman Church,
should be permitted to Christianize the barbarous
Saxons,* and William be nominated as heir to a
throne promised to him by Edward, and forfeited
by the perjury of Harold. Nevertheless, to the
honour of that assembly, and of man, there was a
holy opposition to this wholesale barter of human
* It is curious to notice how England was represented as a
country almost heathen; its conquest was regarded quite as a
pious, benevolent act of charity a sort of mission for converting
the savages. And all this while England was under the most
slavish ecclesiastical domination, and the monks possessed a third
of its land ! But the heart of England never forgave that league of
the Pope with the Conqueror; and the seeds of the Reformed
Religion were trampled deep into the Saxon soil by the feet of the
invading Norman.
214 HAROLD.
rights this sanction of an armed onslaught on a
Christian people. " It is infamous," said the
good, " to authorize homicide." But Hildebrand
was all-powerful and prevailed.
William was at high feast with his barons when
Lanfranc dismounted at his gates and entered his
hall.
" Hail to thee, King of England ! " he said. " I
bring the bull that excommunicates Harold and
his adherents ; I bring to thee, the gift of the
Roman Church, the land and royalty of England.
I bring to thee the gonfanon hallowed by the
heir of the Apostle,, and the very ring that con-
tains the precious relic of the Apostle himself!
Now who will shrink from thy side ? Publish
thy ban, not in Normandy alone, but in every
region and realm where the Church is honoured.
This is the first war of the CROSS ! "
Then indeed was it seen that might of the
Church ! Soon as were made known the sanction
and gifts of the Pope, all the continent stirred,
as to the blast of the trump in the Crusade, of
which that war was the herald. From Maine and
from Anjou, from Poitou and Bretagne, from
France and from Flanders, from Aquitaine and
HAROLD. 215
Burgundy, flashed the spear, galloped the steed.
The robber-chiefs from the castles now grey on
the Rhine; the hunters and bandits from the
roots of the Alps ; baron and knight, varlet and
vagrant, all came to the flag of the Church, to
the pillage of England. For side by side with the
Pope's holy bull was the martial ban: "Good
pay and broad lands to every one who will serve
Count William with spear, and with sword, and
with cross-bow." And the Duke said to Fitzos-
borne, as he parcelled out the fair fields of Eng-
land into Norman fiefs,
" Harold hath not the strength of mind to pro-
mise the least of those things that belong to me.
But I have the right to promise that which is
mine, and also that which belongs to him. He
must be the victor who can give away both his
own and what belongs to his foe."*
All on the continent of Europe regarded
England's king as accursed William's enterprise
as holy ; and mothers who had turned pale when
their sons went forth to the boar-chase, sent their
* WILLIAM OF POITIERS. The naive sagacity of this bandit
argument, and the Norman's contempt for Harold's deficiency
in " strength of mind," are exquisite illustrations of character.
216 HAROLD.
darlings to enter their names, for the weal of their
souls, in the swollen muster-roll of William the
Norman. Every port now in Neustria was busy
with terrible life ; in every wood was heard the
axe felling logs for the ships ; from every anvil
flew the sparks from the hammer, as iron took
shape into helmet and sword. All things seemed
to favour the Church's chosen one. Conan, Count
of Bretagne, sent to claim the duchy of Nor-
mandy, as legitimate heir. A few days after-
wards, Conan died, poisoned, (as had died his
father before him,) by the mouth of his horn and
the web of his gloves. And the new Count of
Bretagne sent his sons to take part against
Harold.
All the armament mustered at the roadstead of
St. Valery, at the mouth of the Somme. But the
winds were long hostile, and the rains fell in
torrents.
CHAPTEK XI.
AND now, while war thus hungered for England
at the mouth of the Somme, the last and most re-
nowned of the sea-kings, Harold Hardrada, entered
his galley, the tallest and strongest of a fleet of
three hundred sail, that peopled the seas round
Solundir. And a man named Gyrdir, on board
the King's ship, dreamed a dream.* He saw a
great witch-wife standing on an isle of the Sulen,
with a fork in one hand and a trough in the other. f
He saw her pass over the whole fleet ; by each
of the three hundred ships he saw her ; and a fowl
sat on the stern of each ship, and that fowl was a
* SKOREO STUKLESON.
t Does any Scandinavian scholar know why the trough was
so associated with the images of Scandinavian witchcraft 1 A
witch was known, when seen behind, by a kind of trough-like
shape ; there must be some symbol, of very ancient mythology,
in this superstition !
VOL. III. L
218 HAROLD.
raven; and he heard the witch-wife sing this
song :
" From the East I allure him,
At the West I secure him ;
In the feast I foresee
Rare the relics for me ;
Red the drink, white the bones.
" The ravens sit greeding,
And watching, and heeding :
Thoro' wind, over water,
Comes scent of the slaughter,
And ravens sit greeding
Their share of the bones.
" Thoro' wind, thoro' weather,
We're sailing together ;
1 sail with the ravens ;
I watch with the ravens ;
I snatch from the ravens
My share of the bones.
There was also a man called Thord,* in a ship
that lay near the King's; and he too dreamed a
dream. He saw the fleet nearing land, and that
land was England. And on the land was a battle-
array twofold, and many banners were flapping
* SKORRO STURLKSOH.
HAROLD. 219
on both sides. And before the army of the land-
folk was riding a huge witch-wife upon a wolf;
the wolf had a man's carcase in his mouth, and
the blood was dripping and dropping from his
jaws ; and when the wolf had eaten up that car-
case, the witch-wife threw another into his jaws ;
and so, one after another ; and the wolf cranched
and swallowed them all. And the witch- wife
sang this song:
" The green-waving fields
Are hidden behind
The flash of the shields,
And the rush of the banners
That toss in the wind.
" But Skade's eagle eyes
Pierce the wall of the steel,
And behold from the skies
What the earth would conceal ;
O'er the rush of the banners
She poises her wing,
And marks with a shadow
The brow of the King.
" And, in bode of his doom,
Jaw of Wolf, be the tomb
Of the bones and the flesh,
Gore-bedabbled and fresh,
L2
220 HAROLD.
That cranch and that drip
Under fang and from lip,
As I ride in the van
Of the feasters on man,
With the King !
" Grim wolf, sate thy maw,
Full enow shall there be,
Hairy jaw, hungry maw,
Both for ye and for me !
" Meaner food be the feast
Of the fowl and the beast ;
But the witch, for her share,
Takes the best of the fare :
And the witch shall be fed
With the king of the dead,
When she rides in the van,
Of the slayers of man,
With the King."
And King Harold dreamed a dream. And he
saw before him his brother, St. Olave. And the
dead, to the Scald-King, sang this song :
" Bold as thou in the fight,
Blithe as thou in the hall,
Shone the noon of my might,
Ere the night of my fall !
HAROLD. 22 1
" How humble is death,
And how haughty is life ;
And how fleeting the breath
Between slumber and strife !
" All the earth is too narrow,
O life, for thy tread !
Two strides o'er the barrow
Can measure the dead.
" Yet mighty that space is
Which seemeth so small ;
The realm of all races,
With room for them all I"
But Harold Hardrada scorned witch-wife and
dream; and his fleets sailed on. Tostig joined
him off the Orkney Isles, and this great arma-
ment soon came in sight of the shores of England.
They landed at Cleveland,* and at the dread
of the terrible Norsemen, the coastmen fled or
submitted. With booty and plunder they sailed
on to Scarborough, but there the townsfolk were
brave, and the walls were strong. The Norsemen
ascended a hill above the town, lit a huge pile of
wood, and tossed the burning piles down on the
* SNORRO STCRLESOIT.
222 HAROLD.
roofs. House after house caught the flame, and
through the glare and the crash rushed the men
of Hardrada. Great was the slaughter, and ample
the plunder ; and the town, awed and depeopled,
submitted to flame and to sword.
Then the fleet sailed up the Humber and Ouse,
and landed at Richall, not far from York; but
Morcar, the Earl of Northumbria, came out
with all his forces, all the stout men and tall of
the great race of the Anglo-Dane.
Then Hardrada advanced his flag, called Land-
Eyda, the " Ravager of the World, "* and, chaunt-
ing a war-stave, led his men to the onslaught.
The battle was fierce, but short. The English
troops were defeated, they fled into York; and
the Ravager of the World waa borne in tri-
umph to the gates of the town. An exiled chief,
however tyrannous and hateful, hath ever some
friends among the desperate and lawless; and suc-
cess ever finds allies among the weak and the
craven, so many Northumbrians now came to
the side of Tostig. Dissension and mutiny broke
* So Thierry translates the word ; others, the Land-ravager.
In Danish, the word is Land-ode, in Icelandic, Land-eydo. Note
to THIERRY'S History of the Conq. of England. Book iii. vol. Ti.
p 169 (of Hazlitt's translation.)
HAROLD. 223
out amidst the garrison within ; Morcar, unable
to control the townsfolk, was driven forth with those
still true to their country and King, and York
agreed to open its gates to the conquering invader.
At the news of this foe on the north side
of the land, King Harold was compelled to with-
draw all the forces at watch in the south against
the tardy invasion of William. It was now deep
in September ; eight months had elapsed since the
Norman had launched forth his vaunting threat.
Would he now dare to come? Come or not, that
foe was afar, and this was in the heart of the
country !
Now, York having thus capitulated, all the land
round was humbled and awed; and Hardrada
and Tostig were blithe and gay ; and many days,
thought they, must pass ere Harold the King can
come from the south to the north.
The camp of the Norsemen was at Stanford
Bridge, and that day it was settled that they
should formally enter York. Their ships lay in
the river beyond; a large portion of the arma-
ment was with the ships. The day was warm,
and the men with Hardrada had laid aside their
heavy mail and were " making merry," talking of
224 HAROLD.
the plunder of York, jeering at Saxon valour, and
gloating over thoughts of the Saxon maids, whom
Saxon men had failed to protect, when suddenly
between them and the town rose and rolled a
great cloud of dust. High it rose, and fast it
rolled, and from the heart of the cloud shone the
spear and the shield.
"What army comes yonder?" said Harold
Hardrada.
" Surely," answered Tostig, " it comes from the
town that we are to enter as conquerors, and can
be but the friendly Northumbrians who have
deserted Morcar for me."
Near and nearer came the force, and the shine
of the arms was like the glancing of ice.
" Advance the World-Ravager ! " cried Harold
Hardrada, "draw up, and to arms!"
Then, picking out three of his briskest youths,
he despatched them to the force on the river
with orders to come up quick to the aid.
For already, through the cloud and amidst the
spears, was seen the flag of the English King. On
the previous night King Harold had entered
York, unknown to the invaders appeased the
mutiny cheered the townsfolks ; and now camo,
HAROLD. 225
like the thunderbolt borne by the winds, to clear
the air of England from the clouds of the North.
Both armaments dreAV up in haste, and Har-
drada formed his array in the form of a circle,
the line long but not deep, the wings curving round
till they met,* shield to shield. Those who stood
in the first rank set their spear shafts on the
ground, their points level with the breast of a
horseman; those in the second, with spears yet
lower, level with the breast of a horse; thus
forming a double palisade against the charge of
cavalry. In the centre of this circle was placed
the Ravager of the World, and round it a
rampart of shields. Behind that rampart was the
accustomed post at the onset of battle for the
King and his body-guard. But Tostig was in
front, with his own Northumbrian Lion banner,
and his chosen men.
While this army was thus being formed, the
English King was marshalling his force in the far
more formidable tactics, which his military science
had perfected from the warfare of the Danes.
That form of battalion, invincible hitherto under
his leadership, was in the manner of a wedge or
* SNORRO STURIESON.
i. 3
226 HAROLD.
triangle, thus A. So that, in attack, the men
marched on the foe presenting the smallest pos-
sible surface to the missives, and, in defence, all
three lines faced the assailants. King Harold
/cast his eye over the closing lines, and then,
turning to Gurth, who rode by his side, said,
" Take one man from yon hostile army, and with
what joy should we charge on the Northmen!"
" I conceive thee," answered Gurth mournfully,
"and the same thought of that one man makes
my arm feel palsied."
The King mused, and drew down the nasal bar
of his helmet.
" Thegns," said he suddenly, to the score of
riders who grouped round him, " follow." And
shaking the rein of his horse, King Harold rode
straight to that part of the hostile front from
which rose, above the spears, the Northumbrian
banner of Tostig. Wondering, but mute, the
twenty thegns followed him. Before the grim
array, and hard by Tostig's banner, the King
checked his steed and cried,
" Is Tostig, the son of Godwin and Githa, by
the flag of the Northumbrian earldom?"
With his helmet raised, and his Norwegian
HAROLD. 227
mantle flowing over his mail, Earl Tostig rode
forth at that voice, and came up to the speaker.*
" What wouldst thou with me, daring foe ? "
The Saxon horseman paused, and his deep
voice trembled tenderly, as he answered slowly,
"Thy brother, King Harold, sends to salute
thee. Let not the sons from the same womb
wage, in the soil of their fathers, unnatural war."
" What will Harold the King give to his bro-
ther?" answered Tostig, "Northumbria already he
hath bestowed on the son of his house's foe."
The Saxon hesitated, and a rider by his side
took up the word.
" If the Northumbrians will receive thee again,
Northumbria shalt thou have, and the King will
bestow his late earldom of Wessex on Morcar ; if
the Northumbrians reject thee, thou shalt have all
the lordships which King Harold hath promised
to Gurth."
" This is well," answered Tostig ; and he
seemed to pause as in doubt ; when, made
aware of this parley, King Harold Hardrada, on
* See SKORRO STCRLESON for this parley between Harold in
person, and Tostig. The account differs from the Saxon chroni-
clers, but in this particular instance is likely to be as accurate.
228 UAUOLD.
his coal-black steed, with his helm all shining with
gold, rode from the lines, and came into hearing.
" Ha I" said Tostig then, turning round, as the
giant form of the Norse king threw its vast
shadow over the ground,
" And if I take the offer, what will Harold
son of Godwin give to my friend and ally Har-
drada of Norway ? "
The Saxon rider reared his head at these
words, and gazed on the large front of Hardrada,
as he answered loud and distinct,
" Seven feet of land for a grave, or, seeing
that he is taller than other men, as much more as
his corse may demand !"
" Then go back, and tell Harold my brother to
get ready for battle ; for never shall the Scalds and
the warriors of Norway say that Tostig lured
their king in his cause, to betray him to his
foe. Here did he come, and here came I, to win
as the brave win, or die as the brave die !"
A rider of younger and slighter form than the
rest here whispered the Saxon King,
" Delay no more, or thy men's hearts will fear
treason."
" The tie is rent from my heart, O Haco,"
HAROLD. 229
answered the King, "and the heart flies back to
our England."
He waived his hand, turned his steed, and rode
off. The eye of Hardrada followed the horseman.
"And who," he asked calmly, "is that man
who spoke so well?"*
"King Harold!" answered Tostig, briefly.
" How ! " cried the Norseman reddening, " how
was not that made known to me before ! Never
should he have gone back, never told hereafter
the doom of this day ! "
With all his ferocity, his envy, his grudge to
Harold, and his treason to England, some rude
notions of honour still lay confused in the breast
of the Saxon ; and he answered stoutly,
"Imprudent was Harold's coming, and great
his danger; but he came to offer me peace and
dominion. Had I betrayed him, I had not been
his foe, but his murderer !"
The Norse King smiled approvingly, and turn-
ing to his chiefs, said drily,
" That man was shorter than some of us, but he
rode firm in his stirrups."'
And then this extraordinary person, who united
* SJJOKRO STURLESON.
230 IIAROLD.
in himself all the types of an age that vanished
for ever in his grave, and who is the more inter-
esting, as in him we see the race from which the
Norman sprang, began, in the rich full voice that
pealed deep as an organ, to chaunt his impromptu
war-song. He halted in the midst, and with great
composure said,
"That verse is but ill-tuned: I must try a
better."*
He passed his hand over his brow, mused an
instant, and then, with his fair face all illumined,
he burst forth as inspired.
This time, air, rhythm, words, all so chimed in
with his own enthusiasm and that of his men, that
the effect was inexpressible. It was, indeed, like
the charm of those runes which are said to have
maddened the Berserker witli the frenzy of war.
Meanwhile the Saxon phalanx came on, slow
and firm, and in a few minutes the battle began.
It commenced first with the charge of the English
cavalry (never numerous), led by Leofwine and
Haco, but the double palisade of the Normanf
spears formed an impassable barrier; and the
horsemen, recoiling from the frieze, rode round
* SOUK> STVKUOOH.
HAROLD. 231
the iron circle without other damage than the
spear and javelin could effect. Meanwhile, King
Harold, who had dismounted, marched, as was his
wont, with the body of footmen. He kept his
post in the hollow of the triangular wedge ;
whence he could best issue his orders. Avoiding
the side over which Tostig presided, he halted his
array in full centre of the enemy where the
Ravager of the World, streaming high above
the inner rampart of shields, showed the presence
of the giant Hardrada.
The air was now literally darkened with the
flights of arrows and spears; and in a war of
missives, the Saxons were less skilled than the
Norsemen. Still King Harold restrained the
ardour of his men, who, sore harassed by the
darts, yearned to close on the foe. He himself,
standing on a little eminence, more exposed than
his meanest soldier, deliberately eyed the sallies
of the horse, and watched the moment he foresaw,
when encouraged by his own suspense, and the
feeble attacks of the cavalry, the Norsemen
would lift their spears from the ground, and
advance themselves to the assault. That moment
came ; unable to withhold their own fiery zeal,
232 HAROLD.
stimulated by the tromp and the clash, and the
war hymns of their King and his choral Scalds, the
Norsemen broke ground and came on.
" To your axes, and charge ! " cried Harold ;
and passing at once from the centre to the front,
he led on the array.
The impetus of that artful phalanx was tre-
mendous; it pierced through the ring of the
Norwegians ; it clove into the rampart of shields ;
and King Harold's battle-axe was the first that
shivered that wall of steel ; his step the first that
strode into the innermost circle that guarded
the Ravager of the "World.
Then forth, from under the shade of that great
flag, came, himself also on foot, Harold Hardrada :
shouting and chaunting, he leapt with long strides
into the thick of the onslaught He had flung
away his shield, and swaying with both hands his
enormous sword, he hewed down man after man,
till space grew clear before him ; and the English,
recoiling in awe before an image of height and
strength that seemed superhuman, left but one
form standing firm, and in front, to oppose his way.
At that moment the whole strife seemed not to
belong to an age comparatively modern, it took a
HAROLD. 233
character of remotest eld ; and Thor and Odin
seemed to have returned to the earth. Behind
this towering and Titan warrior, their wild hair
streaming long under their helms, came his Scalds,
all singing their hymns, drunk with the madness
of battle. And the Ravager of the World
tossed and flapped as it followed, so that the vast
raven depicted on its folds seemed horrid with life.
And calm and alone, his eye watchful, his axe
lifted, his foot ready for rush or for spring but
firm as an oak against flight stood the Last of the
Saxon Kings.
Down bounded Hardrada, and down shore his
sword ; King Harold's shield was cloven in two,
and the force of the blow brought himself to his
knee. But, as swift as the flash of that sword, he
sprang to his feet ; and as Hardrada still bowed
his head, not recovered from the force of his blow,
the axe of the Saxon came so full on his helmet,
that the giant reeled, dropped his sword, and
staggered back; while his Scalds and his Chiefs
rushed around him. That gallant stand of King
Harold saved his English from flight ; and now,
as they saw him almost lost in the throng, yet still
cleaving his way on, on to the raven standard,
234 1IAROLO.
they rallied with one heart, and shouting forth,
"Out, out! Holy crosse!" forced their way to
his side, and the fight now waged hot and equal,
hand to hand. Meanwhile Hardrada, borne a
little apart, and relieved from his dinted helmet,
recovered the shock of the weightiest blow that had
ever dimmed his eye and numbed his hand. Tossing
the helmet on the ground, his bright locks glitter-
ing like sunbeams, he rushed back to the melee.
Again helm and mail went down before him ;
again through the crowd he saw the arm tliat had
smitten him; again he sprang forth to finish the
war with a blow, when a shaft from some distant
bow pierced the throat which the casque now left
bare ; a sound like the wail of a death-song mur-
mured brokenly from his lips, which then gushed out
with blood, and tossing up his arms wildly, he fell
to the ground, a corpse. At that sight a yell of
such terror, and woe, and wrath all commingled,
broke from the Norsemen, that it hushed the very
war for the moment !
"On!" cried the Saxon King, "let our earth
take its spoiler! On to the standard, and the
day is our own !"
"On to the standard!" cried Haco, who, his
HAROLD. 235
horse slain under him, all bloody with wounds not
his own, now came to the King's side. Grim and
tall rose the standard, and the streamer shrieked
and flapped m the wind as if the raven had voice,
when right before Harold, right between him and
the banner, stood Tostig his brother, known by
the splendour of his mail, the gold work on his
mantle known by the fierce laugh, and defying
voice.
"What matters!" cried Haco ; "strike, O
King, for thy crown ! "
Harold's hand griped Haco's arm convulsively ;
he lowered his axe, turned round, and passed
shudderingly away.
Both armies now paused from the attack ; for
both were thrown into great disorder, and each
gladly gave respite to the other, to re-form its own
shattered array.
The Norsemen were not the soldiers to yield
because their leader was slain rather the more
resolute to fight, since revenge was now added to
valour; yet, but for the daring and promptness
with which Tostig had cut his way to the stand-
ard, the day had been already decided.
During the pause, Harold summoning Gurth,
236 HAROLD.
said to him in great emotion, " For the sake of
Nature, for the love of God, go, O Gurth, go
to Tostig ; urge him, now Hardrada is dead, urge
him to peace. All that we can proffer with
honour, proffer quarter and free retreat to every
Norseman.* Oh, save me, save us from a
brother's blood !"
Gurth lifted his helmet, and kissed the mailed
hand that grasped his own.
" I go," said he. And so, bare-headed, and with
a single trumpeter, he went to the hostile lines.
Harold awaited him in great agitation ; nor
could any man have guessed what bitter and
awful thoughts lay in that heart, from which, in
the way to power, tie after tie had been wrenched
away. He did not wait long; and even before
Gurth rejoined him, he knew by an unanimous
shout of fury, to which the clash of countless
shields chimed in, that the mission had been in
vain.
Tostig had refused to hear Gurth, save in pre-
sence 'of the Norwegian chiefs ; and when the
message had been delivered, they all cried, " We
* SHABOH TURSER'S Anglo-Saxons, vol. ii. p. 396. % SKOBRO
&TUKLS905.
HAROLD. 237
would rather fall one across the corpse of the
other,* than leave a field in which our King
was slain."
" Ye hear them," said Tostig : " as they speak,
speak I."
" Not mine this guilt too, O God ! " said
Harold, solemnly lifting his hand on high. " Now,
then, to duty."
By this time the Norwegian reinforcements
had arrived from the ships, and this for a short
time rendered the conflict, that immediately en-
sued, uncertain and critical. But Harold's general-
ship was now as consummate as his valour had
been daring. Pie kept his men true to their
irrefragable line. Even if fragments splintered
off, each fragment threw itself into the form of
the resistless wedge. One Norwegian, standing
on the bridge of Stanford, long guarded that pass ;
and no less than forty Saxons are said to have
perished by his arm. To him the English King-
sent a generous pledge, not only of safety for the
life, but honour for the valour. The viking
refused to surrender, and fell at last by a javelin
from the hand of Haco.- As if in him had been
* SNORRO STDRLESON.
238 HAROLD.
embodied the unyielding war-god of the Norse-
men, in that death died the last hope of the
vikings. They fell literally where they stood ;
many, from sheer exhaustion and the weight of
their mail, died without a blow.* And in the
shades of nightfall, Harold stood amidst the shat-
tered rampart of shields, his foot on the corpse of
the standard-bearer, his hand on the Ravager of
the World.
" Thy brother's corpse is borne yonder," said
Haco in the ear of the King, as, wiping the blood
from his sword, he plunged it back in the
sheath.
The quick succession of events allowed the Saxon army no
time to bury the slain ; and the bones of the invaders whitened
the field of battle for many years afterwards.
CHAPTER XII.
YOUNG Olave, the son of Hardrada, had luckily
escaped the slaughter. A strong detachment of
the Norwegians had still remained with the
vessels; and amongst them some prudent old
chiefs, who, foreseeing the probable results of the
day, and knowing that Hardrada would never
quit, save as a conqueror or a corpse, the field on
which he had planted the Ravager of the World,
had detained the prince almost by force from
sharing the fate of his father. But ere those
vessels could put out to sea, the vigorous measures
of the Saxon King had already intercepted the re-
treat of the vessels. And then, ranging their shields
as a wall round their masts, the bold vikings at
least determined to die as men. But with the morn-
ing came King Harold himself to the banks of the
river, and behind him, with trailed lances, a solemn
240 HAROLD.
procession that bore the body of the Scald King.
They halted on the margin, and a boat was
launched towards the Norwegian fleet, bearing a
monk who demanded the chiefs to send a depu-
tation, headed by the young Prince himself, to
receive the corpse of their King, and hear the
proposals of the Saxon.
The vikings, who had anticipated no prelimi-
naries to the massacre they awaited, did not
hesitate to accept these overtures. Twelve of
the most famous chiefs still surviving, and Olave
himself, entered the boat; and, standing between
his brothers Leofwine and Gurth, Harold thus
accosted them
" Your King invaded a people that had given
him no offence : he has paid the forfeit we war
not with the dead! Give to his remains the
honours due to the brave. Without ransom or
condition, we yield to you what can no longer
liarm us. And for thee, young Prince," con-
tinued the King, with a tone of pity in his voice,
as he contemplated the stately boyhood and
proud but deep grief in the face of Olave, " for
thee, wilt thou not live to learn that the wars of
Odin are treason to the Faith of the Cross? We
HAROLD. 241
have conquered we dare not butcher. Take
such ships as ye need for those that survive.
Three-and-twenty I offer for your transport.
Return to your native shores, and guard them as
we have guarded ours. Are ye contented ? "
Amongst those chiefs was a stern priest the
Bishop of the Orcades he advanced, and bent his
knee to the King.
" O Lord of England," said he, " yesterday
thou didst conquer the form to day, the soul.
And never more may generous Norsemen invade
the coast of him who honours the dead and spares
the living."
" Amen ! " cried the chiefs, and they all knelt to
Harold. The young Prince stood a moment irreso-
lute, for his dead father was on the bier before him,
and revenge was yet a virtue in the heart of a
sea-king. But lifting his eyes to Harold's, the
mild and gentle majesty of the Saxon's brow was
irresistible in its benign command ; and stretching
his right hand to the King, he raised on high
the other, and said aloud, " Faith and friend-
ship with thee and England evermore."
Then all the chiefs rising, they gathered round
the bier, but no hand, in the sight of the conquer-
VOL. in. M
242 HAROLD.
ing foe, lifted the cloth of gold that covered the
corpse of the famous King. The bearers of the
bier moved on slowly towards the boat ; the Nor-
wegians followed with measured funereal steps.
And not till the bier was placed on board the royal
galley was there heard the wail of woe ; but then
it came loud, and deep, and dismal, and was followed
by a burst of wild song from a surviving Scald.
The Norwegian preparations for departure were
soon made, and the ships vouchsafed to their convoy
raised anchor, and sailed down the stream. Harold's
eye watched the ships from the river banks.
" And there," said he, at last, " there glide
the last sails that shall ever bear the devastating
raven to the shores of England."
Truly, in that field had been the most signal
defeat those warriors, hitherto almost invincible,
had known. On that bier lay the last son of Ber-
eerker and sea-king ; and be it, O Harold, remem-
bered in thine honour, that not by the Norman,
but by thee, true-hearted Saxon, was trampled on
the English soil the Ravager of the World !*
* It may be said indeed, that, in the following reign, the Danes,
nnder Osbiorn, (brother of King Sweyn,) sailed up the Humber ;
but it was to assist the English, not to invade them. They were
loityht off by the Norman, not conquered.
HAROLD. 243
" So be it," said Haco, " and so, methinks will
it be. But forget not the descendant of the
Norsemen, the Count of Rouen ! "
Harold started, and turned to his chiefs.
" Sound trumpet, and fall in. To York we
march. There, resettle the earldom, collect the
spoil, and then back, my men, to the southern
shores. Yet first kneel thou, Haco, son of my bro-
ther Sweyn : thy deeds were done in the light of
Heaven, in the sight of warriors in the open field :
so should thine honours find thee ! Not with the
vain fripperies of Norman knighthood do I deck
thee, but make thee one of the elder brotherhood
of Minister and Miles. I gird round thy loins
mine own baldric of pure silver ; I place in thy
hand mine own sword of plain steel ; and bid thee
rise to take place in council and camps amongst
the Proceres of England, Earl of Hertford and
Essex. Boy," whispered the King, as he bent over
the pale cheek of his nephew, " thank not me. From
me the thanks should come. On the day that saw
Tostig's crime and his death, thou didst purify the
name of my brother Sweyn ! On to our city of
York!"
High banquet was held in York ; and, according
M 2
244 HAROLD.
to the customs of the Saxon monarchy the King
could not absent himself from the Victory Feast of
his thegns. He sate at the head of the board,
between his brothers. Morcar, whose depar-
ture from the city had deprived him of a share
in the battle, had arrived that day with his
brother Edwin, whom he had gone to summon
to his aid. And though the young Earls
envied the fame they had not shared, the envy
was noble.
Gay and boisterous was the wassail ; and lively
Song, long neglected in England, woke, as it
wakes ever, at the breath of Joy and Fame. As if
in the days of Alfred, the harp passed from hand
to hand : martial and rough the strain beneath the
touch of the Anglo-Dane, more refined and
thoughtful the lay when it chimed to the voice of
the Anglo-Saxon. But the memory of Tostig
all guilty though he was a brother slain in war
with a brother, lay heavy on Harold's souL Still,
so had he schooled and trained himself to live but
for England know no joy and no woe not here
that by degrees and strong efforts he shook off his
gloom. And music, and song, and wine, and
blazing lights, and the proud sight of those long
HAROLD. 245
lines of valiant men, whose hearts had beat and
whose hands had triumphed in the same cause,
all aided to link his senses with the gladness of
the hour.
And now, as night advanced, Leofwine, who
was ever a favourite in the banquet, as Gurth in
the council, rose to propose the drink-heel., which
carries the most characteristic of our modern
social customs to an antiquity so remote. And the
roar was hushed at the sight of the young Earl's
winsome face. With due decorum, he uncovered
his head,* composed his countenance, and began:
" Craving forgiveness of my lord the King,
and this noble assembly," said Leofwine, " in
which are so many from whom what I intend to
propose would come with better grace, I would
remind you that William, Count of the Normans,
meditates a pleasure excursion, of the same nature
as our late visitor Harold Hardrada's."
A scornful laugh rang through the hall.
"And as we English are hospitable folk, and
give any man, who asks, meat and board for one
night, so one day's welcome, methinks, will be all
* The Saxons sat at meals with their heads covered.
246 HAROLD.
that the Count of the Normans will need at our
English hands."
Flushed with the joyous insolence of wine, the
wassailers roared applause.
" Wherefore, this drink-heel to William of
Rouen ! And, to borrow a saying now in every
man's lips, and which, I think, our good scops will
take care that our children's children shall learn by
heart, since he covets our Saxon soil, ' seven feet
of land ' in frank pledge to him for ever ! "
" Drink-heel to William the Norman ! " shouted
the revellers ; and cash man . with mocking for-
mality, took off his cap, kissed his hand, and
bowed.* " Drink-heel to William the Norman ! "
And the shout rolled from floor to roof when, in
the midst of the uproar, a man, all bedabbled with
dust and mire, rushed into the hall, rushed through
the rows of the banqueters, rushed to the throne-
chair of Harold, and cried aloud, " William the
Norman is encamped on the shores of Sussex ; and
with the mightiest armament ever yet seen in
England, is ravaging the land far and near ! "
' HESRY.
BOOK XII.
THE FIELD OF HASTINGS.
BOOK XII.
CHAPTER I.
IN the heart of the forest land in which Hilda's
abode was situated, a gloomy tarn or pool reflected
upon its stagnant waters the still shadows of the
autumnal foliage. As is common in ancient
forests in the neighbourhood of men's wants, the
trees were dwarfed in height by repeated loppings,
and the boughs sprang from the hollow, gnarled
boles of pollard oaks and beeches ; the trunks,
vast in girth, and covered with mosses and whiten-
ing canker-stains, or wreaths of ivy, spoke of the
most remote antiquity; but the boughs which
their lingering and mutilated life put forth, were
either thin and feeble with innumerable branch-
lets, or were centred on some solitary distorted
limb which the woodman's axe had spared. The
M 3
250 HAROLD.
trees thus assumed all manner of crooked, de-
formed, fantastic shapes all betokening age, and
all decay all, in despite of the noiseless solitude
around, proclaiming the waste and ravages of
man.
The time was that of the first watches of night,
when the autumnal moon was brightest and
broadest. You might see, on the opposite side of
the tarn, the antlers of the deer every now and
then moving restlessly above the fern in which
they had made their couch ; and, through the
nearer glades, the hares and conies stealing forth
to sport or to feed ; or the bat, wheeling low, in
chase of the forest moth. From the thickest
part of the copse came a slow human foot, and
Hilda, emerging, paused by the waters of the
pool. That serene and stony calm habitual to her
features was gone ; sorrow and passion had seized
the soul of the Vala, in the midst of its fancied
security from the troubles it presumed to foresee
for others. The lines of the face were deep and
care-worn age had come on with rapid strides
and the light of the eye was vague and unsettled,
as if the lofty reason shook, terrified in its pride,
at last.
HAROLD. 251
" Alone, alone ! " she murmured, half aloud ;
" yea, evermore alone ! And the grandchild I had
reared to be the mother of kings whose fate,
from the cradle, seemed linked with royalty and
love in whom, watching and hoping for, in whom,
loving and heeding, methought I lived again the
sweet human life hath gone from my hearth
forsaken, broken-hearted withering down to the
grave under the shade of the barren cloister ! Is
mine art, then, all a lie ? Are the gods who led
Odin from the Scythian East but the juggling
fiends Avhom the craven Christian abhors ? Lo !
the Wine Month has come ; a few nights more,
and the sun which all prophecy foretold should go
down on the union of the king and the maid, shall
bring round the appointed day : yet Aldyth still
lives, and Edith still withers ; and War stands side
by side with the Church, between the betrothed
and the altar. Verily, verily, my spirit hath
lost its power, and leaves me bowed, in the
awe of night, a feeble, aged, hopeless, childless
woman ! "
Tears of human weakness rolled down the Vala's
cheeks. At that moment, a laugh came from a
thing that had seeme,d like the fallen trunk of a
252 HAROLD.
tree, or a trough in which the herdsman waters
his cattle, so still, and shapeless, and undefined it
had lain amongst the rank weeds, and nightshade,
and trailing creepers on the marge of the pool.
The laugh was low yet fearful to hear.
Slowly, the thing moved, and rose, and took
the outline of a human form; and the Prophetess
beheld the witch whose sleep she had disturbed
by the Saxon's grave.
" Where is the banner ?" said the witch, laying
her hand on Hilda's arm, and looking into her
face with bleared and rheumy eyes, " where is the
banner thy handmaids were weaving for Harold
the Earl ? Why didst thou lay aside that labour
of love for Harold the King? Hie thee home,
and make thy maidens ply all night at the work ;
make it potent with rune and with spell, and with
gums of the seid. Take the banner to Harold
the King, as a marriage gift; for the day of his
birth shall be still the day of his nuptials with
Edith the Fair P
Hilda gazed on the hideous form before her ; and
so had her soul fallen from its arrogant pride of
place, that instead of the scorn with which so foul
a pretender to the Great Art had before inspired
HAROLD. 253
the King-born Prophetess, her veins tingled with
credulous awe.
" Art thou a mortal like myself, " she said after
a pause, " or one of those beings often seen by the
shepherd in mist and rain, driving before them their
shadowy flocks? one of those of whom no man
knoweth whether they are of earth or of Helheim ?
whether they have ever known the lot and condi-
tions of flesh, or are but some dismal race between
body and spirit, hateful alike to gods and to men ?"
The dreadful hag shook her head, as if refusing
to answer the question, and said,
" Sit we down, sit we down by the dead dull
pool, and if thou wouldst be wise as I am, wake
up all thy wrongs, fill thyself with hate, and let
thy thoughts be curses. Nothing is strong on earth
but the Will ; and hate to the will is as the iron in
the hands of the war-man."
" Ha !" answered Hilda, " then, thou art indeed
one of the loathsome brood whose magic is born,
not of the aspiring soul, but the fiendlike heart.
And between us there is no union. I am of the
race of those whom priests and kings reverenced
and honoured as the oracles of heaven ; and
rather let my lore be dimmed and weakened, in
254 HAROLD.
admitting the humanities of hope and love, than be
lightened by the glare of the wrath that Lok and
Rana bear the children of men."
" "What, art thou so base and so doting," said the
hag, with fierce contempt, " as to know that an-
other has supplanted thineEdith,thatall the schemes
of thy life are undone, and yet feel no hate for the
man who hath wronged her and thee? the man
who had never been king if thou hadst not breathed
into him the ambition of rule ? Think, and curse ! "
" My curse would wither the heart that is en-
twined with his," answered Hilda; "and," she
added abruptly, as if eager to escape from her
own impulses, " didst thou not tell me, even now,
that the wrong would be redressed, and his be-
trothed yet be his bride on the appointed day ?"
" Ha I home, then ! home ! and weave the
charmed woof of the banner; broider it with
zimmes and with gold worthy the standard of a
king ; for I tell thee, that where that banner is
planted, shall Edith clasp with bridal arms her
adored. And the hicata thou hast read by the
bautastein, and in the temple of the Briton's re-
vengeful gods, shall be fulfilled."
" Dark daughter of Hela," said the Prophetess,
HAROLD. 255
" whether demon or god hath inspired thee, I hear
in my spirit a voice that tells me thou hast pierced
to a truth that my lore could not reach. Thou
art houseless and poor ; I will give wealth to thine
age if thou wilt stand with me by the altar of
Thor, and let thy galdra unriddle the secrets that
have baffled mine own. All foreshown to me hath
ever come to pass, but in a sense other than that
in which my soul read the rune and the dream,
the leaf and the fount, the star and the Scin-lseca.
My husband slain in his youth ; my daughter
maddened with woe; her lord murdered on his
hearthstone ; Sweyn, whom I loved as my child,"
the Vala paused, contending against her own
emotions " I loved them all," she faltered, clasp-
ing her hands, " for them I tasked the future. The
future promised fair ; I lured them to their doom,
and when the doom came, lo ! the promise was
kept ! but how ? and now, Edith, the last of my
race; Harold, the pride of my pride! speak, Thing
of Horror and Night, canst thou disentangle the
web in which my soul struggles, weak as the fly
in the spider's mesh?"
" On the third night from this, will I stand
with thee by the altar of Thor, and unriddle the
256 HAROLD.
rede of my masters, unknown and unguest, whom
thou hast duteously served. And ere the sun rise,
the greatest mystery earth knows shall be bare to
thy soul !"
As the witch spoke, a cloud passed over the
moon ; and before the light broke forth again, the
hag had vanished. There was only seen in the
dull pool, the water-rat swimming through the
rank sedges ; only in the forest, the grey wings of
the owl, fluttering heavily across the glades ; only
in the grass, the red eyes of the bloated toad.
Then Hilda went slowly home, and the maids
worked all night at the charmed banner. All that
night, too, the watch-dogs howled in the yard,
through the ruined peristyle howled in rage and
in fear. And under the lattice of the room in
which the maids broidered the banner, and the
Prophetess muttered her charm, there couched,
muttering also, a dark, shapeless thing, at which
those dogs howled in rage and in fear.
CHAPTER II.
ALL within the palace of Westminster showed
the confusion and dismay of the awful time ; all, at
least, save the council chamber, in which Harold,
who had arrived the night before, conferred with
his thegns. It was evening : the courtyards and
the halls were filled with armed men, and almost
with every hour came rider and bode from the
Sussex shores. In the corridors the Churchmen
grouped and whispered, as they had whispered and
grouped in the day of King Edward's death.
Stigand passed amongst them, pale and thought-
ful. The serge gowns came rustling round the
Archprelate for counsel or courage.
" Shall we go forth with the King's army?"
asked a young monk, bolder than the rest, " to
animate the host with prayer and hymn ?"
" Fool !" said the miserly prelate, " fool ! if we
258 HAROLD.
do so, and the Norman conquer, what become of
our abbacies and convent lands ? The Duke
wars against Harold, not England. If he slay
Harold "
"What then?"
" The Atheling is left us yet. Stay we here
and guard the last prince of the House of Cerdic,"
whispered Stigand, and he swept on.
In the chamber in which Edward had breathed
his last, his widowed Queen, with Aldyth her
successor, and Githa and some other ladies, waited
the decision of the council. By one of the win-
dows stood, clasping each other by the hand, the
fair young bride of Gurth, and the betrothed of
the gay Leofwine. Githa sate alone, bowing her
face over her hands desolate; mourning for the fate
of her traitor son; and the wounds, that the recent
and holier death of Thyra had inflicted, bled afresh.
And the holy Lady of Edward attempted in vain,
by pious adjurations, to comfort Aldyth, who
scarcely heeding her, started ever and anon with
impatient terror, muttering to herself, " Shall I
lose this crown too?"
In the council hall debate waxed warm, which
was the wiser, to meet William at once in the
HAROLD. 259
battle-field, or to delay, till all the forces Harold
might expect (and which he had ordered to be
levied, in his rapid march from York), could swell
his host ?
"If we retire before the enemy," said Gurth,
" leaving him in a strange land, winter approach-
ing, his forage will fail. He will scarce dare to
march upon London: if he does, we shall be better
prepared to encounter him. My voice is against
resting all on a single battle."
" Is that thy choice ?" said Vebba, indignantly.
" Not so, I am sure, would have chosen thy father ;
not so think the Saxons of Kent. The Norman
is laying waste all the lands of thy subjects, Lord
Harold ; living on plunder, as a robber, in the realm
of King Alfred. Dost thou think that men will
get better heart to fight for their country by hear-
ing that their King shrinks from the danger?"
" Thou speakest well and wisely," said Haco ;
and all eyes turned to the young son of Sweyn,
as to the one who best knew the character of the
hostile army and the skill of its chief. " We have
now with us a force flushed with conquest over a
foe hitherto deemed invincible. Men who have
conquered the Norwegian will not shrink from the
260 I1AHOLD.
Norman. Victory depends upon ardour more than
numbers. Every hour of delay damps the ardour.
Are we sure that it will swell the numbers ? What
I dread most is not the sword of the Norman
Duke, it is his craft. Rely upon it, that if we
meet him not soon, he will march straight to Lon-
don. He will proclaim by the way, that he comes
not to seize the throne, but to punish Harold, and
abide by the Witan, or perchance by the word of
the Roman pontiff. The terror of his armament
unresisted, will spread like a panic through the
land. Many will be decoyed by his false pre-
texts, many awed by a force that the King dare
not meet. If he come in sight of the city, think
you that merchants and cheapmen will not be
daunted by the thought of pillage and sack? They
will be the first to capitulate at the first house
which is fired. This city is weak to guard against
siege ; its walls long neglected ; and in sieges the
Normans are famous. Are we so united (the
King's rule thus fresh), but what no cabals, no
dissensions will break out amongst ourselves? If
the Duke come, as come he will, in the name of
the Church, may not the Churchmen set up some
new pretender to the crown perchance the child
HAROLD. 261
Edgar ? And, divided against ourselves, how in-
gloriously should we fall! Besides, this land, though
never before have the links between province and
province been drawn so close, hath yet demarca-
tions, that make the people selfish. The Northum-
brians, I fear, will not stir to aid London, and
Mercia will hold aloof from our peril. Grant that
William once seize London, all England is broken
up and dispirited ; each shire, nay, each town look-
ing only to itself. Talk of delay as wearing out
the strength of the foe ! No, it would wear out our
own. Little enow, I fear, is yet left in our treasury.
If William seize London, that treasury is his, with
all the wealth of our burgesses. How should we
maintain an army, except by preying on the people,
and thus discontenting them ? W^here guard that
army ? Where are our forts ? where our moun-
tains? The war of delay suits only a land of
rock and defile, or of castle and breast-work.
Thegns and warriors, ye have no castles but
your breasts of mail. Abandon these, and you
are lost."
A general murmur of applause closed the speech
of Haco, which, while wise in arguments our his-
torians have overlooked, came home to that noblest
262 HAROLD.
reason of brave men, which urges prompt resist-
ance to foul invasion.
Up, then, rose King Harold.
" I thank you, fellow-Englishmen, for that ap-
plause with which ye have greeted mine own
thoughts on the lips of Haco. Shall it be said
that your King rushed to chase his own brother
from the soil of outraged England, yet shrunk
from the sword of the Norman stranger? Well
indeed might my brave subjects desert my banner
if it floated idly over these palace walls, while the
armed invader pitched his camp in the heart of
England. By delay, William's force, whatever it
be, cannot grow less ; his cause grows more strong
in our craven fears. What his armament may be,
we rightly know not; the report varies with
every messenger, swelling and lessening with the
rumours of every hour. Have we not around us
now our most stalwart veterans the flower of our
armies the most eager spirits the vanquishers
of Hardrada? Thou sayest, Gurth, that all should
not be perilled on a single battle. True. Harold
should be perilled, but wherefore England ? Grant
that we win the day ; the quicker our despatch,
the greater our fame, the more lasting that peace,
HAROLD. 263
at home and abroad, which rests ever its best
foundation on the sense of the power, which wrong
cannot provoke, unchastized. Grant that we lose ;
a loss can be made gain by a king's brave death.
Why should not our example rouse and unite all
who survive us ? Which the nobler example, the
one best fitted to protect our country the recreant
backs ^pf living chiefs, or the glorious dead with
their fronts to the foe ? Come what may, life or
death, at least we will thin the Norman numbers,
and heap the barriers of our corpses on the Nor-
man march. At least, we can show to the rest of
England how men should defend their native land !
And if, as I believe and pray, in every English
breast beats a heart like Harold's, what matters
though a king should fall ? Freedom is immortal."
He spoke ; and forth from his baldric he drew
his sword. Every blade, at that signal, leapt
from the sheath : and in that council-hall at
least, in every breast beat the heart of Harold.
CHAPTER III.
THE chiefs dispersed to array their troops for
the morrow's march ; but Harold and his kinsmen
entered the chamber where the women waited the
decision of the council, for that, in truth, was to
them the parting interview. The King had
resolved, after completing all his martial prepara-
tions, to pass the night in the Abbey of Waltham ;
and his brothers lodged, with the troops they com-
manded, in the city or its suburbs. Haco alone
remained with that portion of the army quartered
in and around the palace.
They entered the chamber, and in a moment
each heart had sought its mate ; in the mixed as-
sembly each only conscious of the other. There,
Gurth bowed his noble head over the weeping face
of the young bride that for the last time nestled to
his bosom. There, with a smiling lip, but tremulous
voice, the gay Leofwine soothed and chided in a
HAROLD. 265
breath the maiden he had wooed as the partner for
a life that his mirthful spirit made one holiday ;
snatching kisses from a cheek no longer coy.
But cold was the kiss which Harold pressed
on the brow of Aldyth ; and with something of
disdain, and of bitter remembrance of a nobler
love, he comforted a terror which sprang from
the thought of self.
"Oh, Harold!" sobbed Aldyth, "be not rashly
brave: guard thy life for my sake. Without
thee, what am I ? Is it even safe for me to rest
here ? Were it not better to fly to York, or seek
refuge with Malcolm the Scot ? "
" Within three days at the farthest," answered
Harold, " thy brothers will be in London. Abide
by their counsel ; act as they advise at the news of
my victory or my fall."
He paused abruptly, for he heard close beside
him the broken voice of Gurth's bride, in answer
to her lord.
" Think not of me, beloved ; thy whole heart
now be England's. And if if" her voice failed
a moment, but resumed proudly, " why even then
thy wife is safe, for she survives not her lord and
her land!"
VOl,. III. N
266 HAROLD.
The King left his wife's side, and kissed his
brother's bride.
" Noble heart ! " he said ; " with women like
thee for our wives and mothers, England could
survive the slaughter of a thousand kings."
He turned, and knelt to Githa. She threw
her arms over his broad breast, and wept bit-
terly.
" Say say, Harold, that I have not reproached
thee for Tostig's death. I have obeyed the last
commands of Godwin my lord. I have deemed
thee ever right and just; now let me not lose
thee too. They go with thee, all my surviving
sons, save the exile Wolnoth, him whom now I
shall never behold again. Oh, Harold ! let not
mine old age be childless !"
" Mother, dear, dear mother, with these arms
round my neck I take new life and new heart.
No ! never hast thou reproached me for my
brother's death never for aught which man's
first duty enjoined. Murmur not that that duty
commands us still. We are the sons, through thee,
of royal heroes ; through my father, of Saxon
freemen. Rejoice that thou hast three sons left,
whose arms thou mayest pray God and his saints
HAROLD. 267
to prosper, and over whose graves, if they fall,
thou shalt shed no tears of shame ! "
Then the widow of King Edward, who, (the
crucifix clasped in her hands,) had listened to
Harold with lips apart and marble cheeks, could
keep down no longer her human, woman's heart ;
she rushed to Harold as he still knelt to Githa
knelt by his side, and clasped him in her arms
with despairing fondness :
"O brother, brother, whom I have so dearly
loved when all other love seemed forbidden me ;
when he who gave me a crown refused me his
heart ; when, looking at thy fair promise, listening
to thy tender comfort, when, remembering the
days of old, in which thou wert my docile pupil,
and we dreamed bright dreams together of hap-
piness and fame to come, when, loving thee,
rnethought too well, too much as weak mothers
may love a mortal son, I prayed God to detach
my heart from earth. Oh, Harold ! now forgive
me all my coldness. I shudder at thy resolve. I
dread that thou shouldst meet this man, whom an
oath hath bound thee to obey. Nay, frown not
I bow to thy will, my brother and my King. I
know that thou hast chosen as thy conscience
N2
268 HAROLD.
sanctions, as thy duty ordains. But come back
Oh, come back thou who, like me," (her voice
whispered), "hast sacrificed the household hearth
to thy country's altars, and I will never pray to
heaven to love thee less my brother, oh my
brother ! "
In all the room were then heard but the low
sounds of sobs and broken exclamations. All
clustered to one spot Leofwine and his betrothed
Gurth and his bride even the selfish Aldyth,
ennobled by the contagion of the sublime emo-
tion, all clustered round Githa the mother of
the three guardians of the fated land, and all
knelt before her, by the side of Harold. Suddenly,
the widowed Queen, the virgin wife of the last
heir of Cerdic, rose, and holding on high the
sacred rood over those bended heads, said, with
devout passion,
" O Lord of Hosts We Children of Doubt and
Time, trembling in the dark, dare not take to
ourselves to question thine unerring will Sor-
row and death, as joy and life, are at the breath of
a mercy divine, and a wisdom all-seeing: and
out of the hours of evil thou drawest, in mystic
circle, the eternity of good. * Thy will be done on
HAROLD. 269
earth, as it is in heaven.' If, O Disposer of
events, our human prayers are not adverse to thy
pre-judged decrees, protect these lives, the bul-
warks of our homes and altars, sons whom the
land offers as a sacrifice. May thine angel turn
aside the blade as of old from the heart of Isaac !
But if, O Ruler of Nations, in whose sight the
ages are as moments, and generations but as sands
in the sea, these lives are doomed, may the
death expiate their sins, and, shrived on the battle-
field, absolve and receive the souls ! "
CHAPTER IV.
BY the altar of the Abbey Church of Waltham,
that night, knelt Edith in prayer for Harold.
She had taken up her abode in a small convent
of nuns that adjoined the more famous monastery
of Waltham ; but she had promised Hilda not to
enter on the novitiate, until the birthday of Harold
had passed. She herself had no longer faith in
the omens and prophecies that had deceived her
youth and darkened her life ; and, in the more
congenial air of our Holy Church, the spirit, ever
so chastened, grew calm and resigned. But the
tidings of the Norman's coming, and the King's
victorious return to his capital, had reached even
that still retreat ; and love, which had blent itself
with religion, led her steps to that lonely altar.
And suddenly, as she there knelt, only lighted by
the moon through the high casements, she was
HAROLD. 271
startled by the sound of approaching feet and mur-
muring voices. She rose in alarm the door of
the church was thrown open torches advanced
and amongst the monks, between Osgood and
Ailred, came the King. He had come, that last
night before his march, to invoke the prayers of
that pious brotherhood ; and by the altar he had
founded, to pray that his one sin of faith forfeited
and oath abjured, might not palsy his arm and
weigh on his soul in the hour of his country's need.
Edith stifled the cry that rose to her lips, as
the torches fell on the pale and hushed and
melancholy face of Harold ; and she crept away
under the arch of the vast Saxon columns, and
into the shade of abutting walls. The monks and
the King, intent on their holy office, beheld not
that solitary and shrinking form. They approached
the altar, and the mass was said and sung ; and then
the King knelt down lowlily, and none heard the
prayer. But as Osgood held the sacred rood over
the bended head of the royal suppliant, the Image
on the crucifix, (which had been a gift from Aired
the prelate, and was supposed to have belonged of
old to Augustine, the first founder of the Saxon
Church so that by the superstition of the age,
272 HAROLD.
it was invested with miraculous virtues,) bowed
itself visibly. Visibly, the pale ard ghastly Image
of the suffering God bowed over the head of the
kneeling man ; whether the fastenings of the rood
were loosened, or from what cause soever, in the
eyes of all the brotherhood, the Image bowed.*
A thrill of terror froze every heart, save Edith's,
too remote to perceive the portent, and save the
King's, whom the omen seemed to doom, for his
face was buried in his clasped hands. Heavy was
his heart, nor needed it other warnings than its
own gloom.
Long and silently prayed the King ; and when
at last he rose, and the monks, though with
altered and tremulous voices, began their closing
hymn, Edith passed noiselessly along the wall,
and, stealing through one of the smaller doors
which communicated to the nunnery annexed,
gained the solitude of her own chamber. There
she stood, benumbed with the strength of her
emotions at the sight of Harold thus abruptly
presented. How had the fond human heart leapt
to meet him ! Twice, thus, in the august cere-
monials of Religion, secret, shrinking, unwit-
* PA.LORATX Hist, of Anglo-Saxons.
HAROLD. 273
nessed, had she, his betrothed, she, the partner of
his soul, stood aloof to behold him. She had seen
him in the hour of his pomp, the crown upon his
brow, seen him in the hour of his peril and agony,
that anointed head bowed to the earth. And in
the pomp that she could not share, she had
exulted; but, oh, now now, Oh now that she
could have knelt beside that humbled form, and
prayed with that voiceless prayer !
The torches flashed in the court below ; the
church was again deserted ; the monks passed in
mute procession back to their cloister ; but a
single man paused, turned aside, and stopped at
the gate of the humbler convent : a knocking was
heard at the great oaken door, and the watch-dog
barked. Edith started, pressed her hand on her
heart and trembled. Steps approached her door
and the Abbess, entering, summoned her below, to
hear the farewell greeting of her cousin the Bang.
Harold stood in the simple hall of the cloister :
a single taper, tall and wan, burned on the oak
board. The Abbess led Edith by the hand, and,
at a sign from the King, withdrew. So, once more
upon earth, the betrothed and divided were alone.
" Edith," said the King, in a voice in which no
N 3
274 HAROLD.
ear but hers could have detected the struggle, " do
not think I have come to disturb thy holy calm, or
sinfully revive the memories of the irrevocable
past : where once on my breast, in the old fashion
of our fathers, I wrote thy name, is written now
the name of the mistress that supplants thee.
Into Eternity melts the Past ; but I could not
depart to a field from which there is no retreat
in which, against odds that men say are fear-
ful, I have resolved to set my crown and
my life without once more beholding thee,
pure guardian of my happier days! Thy for-
giveness for all the sorrow that, in the darkness
which surrounds man's hopes and dreams, I have
brought on thee, (dread return for love so en-
during, so generous and divine !) thy forgiveness
I will not ask. Thou alone perhaps on earth
knowest the soul of Harold; and if he hath
wronged thee, thou seest alike in the wronger and
the wronged, but the children of iron Duty, the
servants of imperial Heaven . Not thy forgiveness
I ask but but Edith, holy maid ! angel soul I
thy thy blessing !" His voice faltered, and he
inclined his lofty head as to a saint.
" Oh that I had the power to bless!" exclaimed
HAROLD. 275
Edith, mastering her rush of tears with a heroic
effort ; " and methinks I have the power not
from virtues of mine own, but from all that I
owe to thee! The grateful have the power to
bless. For what do I not owe to thee owe to
that very love of which even the grief is sacred ?
Poor child in the house of the heathen, thy love
descended upon me, and in it, the smile of God !
In that love my spirit awoke, and was baptized :
every thought that has risen from earth, and lost
itself in heaven, was breathed into my heart by
thee! Thy creature and thy slave, hadst thou
tempted me to sin, sin had seemed hallowed by
thy voice ; but thou saidst, ' True love is virtue,'
and so I worshipped virtue in loving thee.
Strengthened, purified, by thy bright companion-
ship, from thee came the strength to resign thee
from thee the refuge under the wings of God
from thee the firm assurance that our union yet
shall be not as our poor Hilda dreams, on the
perishable earth, but there ! oh, there ! yonder,
by the celestial altars, in the land in which all
spirits are filled with love. Yes, soul of Harold !
there are might and holiness in the blessing the
soul thou hast redeemed and reared sheds on thee!"
276 HAROLD.
And so beautiful, so unlike the Beautiful of the
common earth, looked the maid as she thus spoke,
and laid hands, trembling with no human passion,
on that royal head that could a soul from Para-
dise be made visible, such might be the shape it
would wear to a mortal's eye ! Thus, for some
moments both were silent ; and in the silence the
gloom vanished from the heart of Harold, and,
through a deep and sublime serenity, it rose un-
daunted to front the future.
No embrace no farewell kiss profaned the
parting of those pure and noble spirits parting
on the threshold of the grave. It was only the
spirit that clasped the spirit, looking forth from
the clay into measureless eternity. Not till the
air of night came once more on his brow, and
the moonlight rested on the roofs and fanes of the
land entrusted to his charge, was the man once
more the human hero : not till she was alone in
her desolate chamber, and the terrors of the
coming battle-field chased the angel from her
thoughts, was the maid inspired, once more the
weeping woman.
A little after sunrise the Abbess, who was
distantly akin to the house of Godwin, sought
HAROLD. 277
Edith, so agitated by her own fear, that she did
not remark the trouble of her visitor. The sup-
posed miracle of the sacred Image bowing over the
kneeling King, had spread dismay through the
cloisters of both nunnery and abbey ; and so intense
was the disquietude of the two brothers, Osgood
and Ailred, in the simple and grateful affection they
bore their royal benefactor, that they had obeyed
the impulse of their tender, credulous hearts, and
left the monastery with the dawn, intending to
follow the King's march,* and watch and pray
near the awful battle-field. Edith listened, and
made no reply ; the terrors of the Abbess infected
her ; the example of the two monks woke the sole
thought which stirred through the nightmare-
dream that suspended reason itself; and when, at
noon, the Abbess again sought the chamber, Edith
was gone ; gone, and alone none knew wherefore
none guessed whither.
All the pomp of the English army burst upon
Harold's view, as, in the rising sun, he approached
the bridge of the capital. Over that bridge came
the stately march, battle-axe, and spear, and
banner, glittering in the ray. And as he drew
* PALORAVE Hist, of Anglo-Saxons.
278 HAROLD.
aside, and the forces defiled before him, the cry
of "God save King Harold!" rose with loud
acclaim and lusty joy, borne over the waves of the
river, startling the echoes in the ruined keape of
the Roman, heard in the halls restored by Canute,
and chiming, like a chorus, with the chaunts of
the monks by the tomb of Sebba in St. Paul's,
by the tomb of Edward at St. Peter's.
With a brightened face, and a kindling eye, the
King saluted his lines, and then fell into the ranks
towards the rear, where, among the burghers of
London and the lithsmen of Middlesex, the im-
memorial custom of Saxon monarchs placed the
kingly banner. And, looking up, he beheld, not
his old standard with the Tiger heads and the
Cross, but a banner both strange and gorgeous.
On a field of gold was the effigies of a Fighting
Warrior ; and the arms were bedecked in orient
pearls, and the borders blazed in the rising sun, with
ruby, amethyst, and emerald. While he gazed,
wondering, on this dazzling ensign, Haco, who
rode beside the standard-bearer, advanced, and gave
him a letter.
" Last night," said he, " after thou hadst left the
palace, many recruits, chiefly from Hertfordshire and
HAROLD. 279
Essex, came in ; but the most gallant and stalwart
of all, in arms and in stature, were the lithsmen
of Hilda. With them came this banner, on which
she has lavished the gems that have passed to her
hand through long lines of northern ancestors,
from Odin, the founder of all northern thrones.
So, at least, said the bode of our kinswoman."
Harold had already cut the silk round the letter,
and was reading its contents. They ran thus :
"King of England, I forgive thee the broken
heart of my grandchild. They whom the land
feeds, should defend the land. I send to thee, in
tribute, the best fruits that grow in the field and
the forest, round the house which my husband
took from the bounty of Canute ; stout hearts
and strong hands ! Descending alike, as do Hilda
and Harold, (through Githa thy mother,) from the
Warrior God of the North, whose race never shall
fail take, O defender of the Saxon children of
Odin, the banner I have broidered with the gems
that the Chief of the Asas bore from the East.
Firm as love be thy foot, strong as death be thy
hand, under the shade which the banner of Hilda,
under the gleam which the jewels of Odin,
cast on the brows of the King ! So Hilda, the
280 HAROLD.
daughter of monarchs, greets Harold the leader
of men."
Harold looked up from the letter, and Haco
resumed :
" Thou canst guess not the cheering effect
which this banner, supposed to be charmed, and
which the name of Odin alone would suffice to
make holy, at least with thy fierce Anglo-Danes,
hath already produced through the army.''
" It is well, Haco," said Harold with a smile.
" Let priest add his blessing to Hilda's charm,
and Heaven will pardon any magic that makes
more brave the hearts that defend its altars.
Now fall we back, for the army must pass beside
the hill with the crommell and gravestone ;
there, be sure, Hilda will be at watch for our
march, and we will linger a few moments to
thank her somewhat for her banner, yet more
justly, methinks, for her men. Are not yon stout
fellows all in mail, so tall and so orderly, in
advance of the London burghers, Hilda's aid to
our Fyrd ?"
" They are," answered Haco
The King backed his steed to accost them with
his kingly greeting ; and then, with Haco, falling
HAROLD. 28 1
yet farther to the rear, seemed engaged in in-
specting the numerous wains, bearing missiles and
forage, that always accompanied the march of a
Saxon army, and served to strengthen its encamp-
ment. But when they came in sight of the hillock
by which the great body of the army had preceded
them, the King and the son of Sweyn dismounted,
and on foot entered the large circle of the Celtic ruin.
By the side of the Teuton altar they beheld
two forms, both perfectly motionless : but one was
extended on the ground as in sleep or in death ;
the other sate beside it, as if watching the corpse,
or guarding the slumber. The face of the last
was not visible, propped upon the arms which
rested on the knees, and hidden by the hands.
But in the face of the other, as the two men drew
near, they recognised the Danish Prophetess.
Death in its dreadest characters was written on
that ghastly face; woe and terror, beyond all
words to describe, spoke in the haggard brow, the
distorted lips, and the wild glazed stare of the
open eyes. At the startled cry of the intruders
on that dreary silence, the living form moved ; and
though still leaning its face on its hands, it raised
its head ; and never countenance of Northern Vam-
282 HAROLD.
pire, cowering by the rifled grave, was more fiend-
like and appalling.
" Who and what art thou ?" said the King ; " and
how, thus unhonoured in the air of heaven, lies
the corpse of the noble Hilda ? Is this the hand
of Nature ? Haco, Haco, so look the eyes, so set
the features, of those whom the horror of ruthless
murder slays even before the steel strikes. Speak,
hag, art thou dumb ?"
" Search the body," answered the witch, " there
is no wound I Look to the throat, no mark of the
deadly gripe ! I have seen such in my day. There
are none in this corpse, I trow ; yet thou sayest
rightly, horror slew her I Ha, ha! she would
know, and she hath known ; she would raise the
dead and the demon ; she hath raised them ; she
would read the riddle, she hath read it. Pale
King and dark youth, would ye learn what Hilda
saw, eh? eh? Ask her in the Shadow- World
where she awaits ye ! Ha I ye too would be wise
in the future; ye too would climb to heaven
through the mysteries of hell. Worms ! worms !
crawl back to the clay to the earth ! One such
night as the hag ye despise enjoys as her sport
and her glee, would freeze your veins, and sear
HAROLD. 283
the life in your eyeballs, and leave your corpses to
terror and wonder, like the carcase that lies at
your feet ! "
" Ho ! " and the King stamping his foot, " Hence,
Haco; rouse the household; summon hither the
handmaids ; call henchman and ceorl to guard this
foul raven."
Haco obeyed ; but when he returned with the
shuddering and amazed attendants, the witch was
gone, and the King was leaning against the altar
with downcast eyes, and a face troubled and dark
with thought.
The body of the Vala was borne into the house ;
and the King, waking from his reverie, bade them
send for the priests, and ordered masses for the
parted soul. Then kneeling, with pious hand he
closed the eyes and smoothed the features, and
left his mournful kiss on the icy brow. These
offices fulfilled, he took Haco's arm, and leaning
on it, returned to the spot on which they had left
their steeds. Not evincing surprise or awe,
emotions that seemed unknown to his gloomy,
settled, impassible nature Haco said calmly, as
they descended the knoll,
" What evil did the hag predict to thee?"
284 HAROLD.
" Haco," answered the King, " yonder, by the
shores of Sussex, lies all the future which our eyes
now should scan, and our hearts should be firm
to meet. These omens and apparitions are but
the ghosts of a dead Religion ; spectres sent from
the grave of the fearful Heathenesse ; they may
appal but to lure us from our duty. Lo, as we
gaze around the ruins of all the creeds that have
made the hearts of men quake with unsubstantial
awe lo, the temple of the Briton ! lo, the fane
of the Roman! lo, the mouldering altar of our
ancestral Thor! Ages past lie wrecked around
us in these shattered symbols. A new age hath
risen, and a new creed. Keep we to the broad
truths before us ; duty here ; knowledge comes
alone in the Hereafter."
" That Hereafter! is it not near?" murmured
Haco.
They mounted in silence; and ere they re-
gained the army, paused, by a common impulse,
and looked behind. Awful in their desolation
rose the temple and the altar! And in Hilda's
mysterious death it seemed that their last and
lingering Genius, the Genius of the dark and
fierce, the warlike and the wizard North, had
HAROLD. 285
expired for ever. Yet, on the outskirt of the
forest, dusk and shapeless, that witch without a
name stood in the shadow, pointing towards
them, with outstretched arm, in vague and de-
nouncing menace ; as if, come what may all
change of creed, be the faith ever so simple, the
truth ever so bright and clear, there is a SUPER-
STITION native to that Border-land between the
Visible and the Unseen, which will find its priest
and its votaries, till the full and crowning splen-
dour of Heaven shall melt every shadow from the
world !
CHAPTER V.
ON the broad plain between Pevensey and
Hastings, Duke William had arrayed his arma-
ments. In the rear he had built a castle of wood,
all the framework of which he had brought with
him, and which was to serve as a refuge in case
of retreat. His ships he had run into deep water,
and scuttled; so that the thought of return, with-
out victory, might be banished from his miscel-
laneous and multitudinous force. His outposts
stretched for miles, keeping watch night and day
against surprise. The ground chosen was adapted
for all the manosuvres of a cavalry never before
paralleled in England, nor perhaps in the world,
almost every horseman a knight, almost every
knight fit to be a chief. And on this space
William reviewed his army, and there planned
and schemed, rehearsed and re-formed, all the stra-
HAROLD. 287
tagems the great day might call forth. But most
careful, and laborious, and minute, was he in the
manoeuvre of a feigned retreat. Not, ere the acting
of some modern play, does the anxious manager
more elaborately marshal each man, each look,
each gesture, which are to form a picture on
which the curtain shall fall amidst deafening
plaudits, than did the laborious captain appoint
each man, and each movement, in his lure to a
valiant foe: The attack of the foot, their recoil,
their affected panic, their broken exclamations of
despair; their retreat, first partial and reluct-
ant, next seemingly hurried and complete,
flying, but in flight carefully confused : then the
settled watchword, the lightning rally, the rush of
the cavalry from the ambush; the sweep and
hem round the pursuing foe, the detachment of
levelled spears to cut off the Saxon return to
the main force, and the lost ground, were all
directed by the most consummate mastership in
the stage play, or upokrisis, of war, and seized by
the adroitness of practised veterans.
Not now, O Harold! hast thou to contend
against the rude heroes of the Norse, with
their ancestral strategy unimproved ! The Civi-
288 HAROLD.
lization of Battle meets thee now ! and all the
craft of the Roman guides the manhood of the
North.
It was in the midst of such lessons to his foot
and his horsemen spears gleaming pennons
tossing lines re-forming steeds backing, wheel-
ing, flying, circling that William's eye blazed,
and his deep voice thundered the thrilling word ;
when Mallet de Graville, who was in command at
one of the outposts, rode up to him at full speed,
and said, in gasps, as he drew breath,
" King Harold and his army are advancing
furiously. Their object is clearly to come on us
unawares."
"Hold I "said the Duke, lifting his hand; and
the knights around him halted in their perfect
discipline ; then after a few brief but distinct
orders to Odo, Fitzosborne, and some other of
his leading chiefs, he headed a numerous caval-
cade of his knights, and rode fast to the outpost
which Mallet had left, to catch sight of the
coming foe.
The horsemen cleared the plain passed through
a wood, mournfully fading into autumnal hues
and, on emerging, they saw the gleam of the
HAROLD. 289
Saxon spears rising on the brows of the gentle
hills beyond. But even the time, short as it was,
that had sufficed to bring William in view of the
enemy, had sufficed also, under the orders of his
generals, to give to the wide plain of his encamp-
ment all the order of a host prepared. And
William, having now mounted on a rising ground,
turned from the spears on the hill tops, to his own
fast forming lines on the plain, and said with a
stern smile,
" Me thinks the Saxon usurper, if he be among
those on the height of yon hills, will vouchsafe us
time to breathe ! St. Michael gives his crown to
our hands, and his corpse to the crow, if he dare to
descend."
And so indeed, as the Duke with a soldier's eye
foresaw from a soldier's skill, so it proved. The
spears rested on the summits. It soon became
evident that the English general perceived that
here there was no Hardrada to surprise ; that the
news brought to his ear had exaggerated neither
the numbers, nor the arms, nor the discipline of
the Norman ; and that the battle w r as not to the
bold, but to the wary.
" He doth right," said William, musingly ; " nor
VOL. III. O
290 I1AROLD.
think, O my Qucns, that we shall find a fool's hot
brain under Harold's helmet of iron. How is this
broken ground of hillock and valley named in our
chart ? It is strange that we should have over-
looked its strength, and suffered it thus to fall
into the hands of the foe. How is it named?
Can any of ye remember?"
" A Saxon peasant," said De Graville, " told me
that the ground was called Senlac* or Sanglac, or
some such name, in their musicless jargon."
" Gramercy !" quoth Grantmcsnil, " methinks
the name will be familiar eno' hereafter ; no jargon
seemeth the sound to my ear a significant name,
and ominous Sanglac, Sanguelac the Lake of
Blood."
" Sanguelac ! " said the Duke, startled ; " where
have I heard that name before? it must have been
between sleeping and waking. Sanguelac, San-
guelac ! truly sayest thou, through a lake of
blood we must wade indeed ! "
" Yet," said De Graville, " thine astrologer fore-
told that thou wouldst win the realm without a
battle."
* The battle-field of Hastings seems to have been called Senlac,
before the Conquest, Sanguelac after it.
HAROLD. 291
" Poor astrologer ! " said William, " the ship he
sailed in was lost. Ass indeed is he who pretends
to warn others, nor sees an inch before his eyes
what his own fate will be ! Battle shall we have,
but not yet. Hark thee, Guillaume, thou hast
been guest with this usurper ; thou hast seemed to
me to have some love for him a love natural since
thou didst once fight by his side ; wilt thou go
from me to the Saxon host with Hugues Maigrot,
the monk, and back the message I shall send ?"
The proud and punctilious Norman thrice
crossed himself ere he answered,
"There was a time, Count William, when I
should have deemed it honour to hold parle with
Harold the brave Earl, but now, with the crown
on his head, I hold it shame and disgrace to barter
words with a knight unleal and a man fore-
sworn."
" Natheless, thou shalt do me this favour," said
William, " for" (and he took the knight somewhat
aside) " I cannot disguise from thee that I look
anxiously on the chance of battle. Yon men are
flushed with new triumph over the greatest warrior
Norway ever knew, they will fight on their own
soil, and under a chief whom I have studied and
o2
292 HAROLD.
read with more care than the Comments of Caesar,
and in whom the guilt of perjury cannot blind
me to the wit of a great general. If we can
yet get our end without battle, large shall be my
thanks to thee, and I will hold thine astrologer a
man wise, though unhappy."
" Certes,"said De Graville, gravely, " it were dis-
courteous to the memory of the star-seer, not to
make some effort to prove his science a just one.
And the Chaldseans "
" Plague seize the Chaldaeans !'' muttered the
Duke. " Ride with me back to the camp, that I
may give thee my message, and instruct also the
monk."
" De Graville," resumed the Duke, as they rode
towards the lines, " my meaning is briefly this. I
do not think that Harold will accept my offers and
resign his crown, but I design to spread dismay,
and perhaps revolt, amongst his captains ; I wish
that they may know that the Church lays its Curse
on those who fight against my consecrated banner.
I do not ask thee, therefore, to demean thy knight-
hood, by seeking to cajole the usurper ; no, but
rather boldly to denounce his perjury, and startle
his liegemen. Perchance they may compel him
HAROLD. 293
to terms perchance they may desert his banner ;
at the worst they shall be daunted with full sense
of the guilt of his cause."
" Ha, now I comprehend thee, noble Count ;
and trust me I will speak as Norman and knight
should speak."
Meanwhile, Harold, seeing the utter hopeless-
ness of all sudden assault, had seized a general's
advantage of the ground he had gained. Occu-
pying the line of hills, he began forthwith to en-
trench himself behind deep ditches and artful
palisades. It is impossible now to stand on
that spot, without recognising the military skill
with which the Saxon had taken his post, and
formed his precautions. He surrounded the main
body of his troops with a perfect breastwork
against the charge of the horse. Stakes and strong
hurdles, interwoven with osier plaits, and pro-
tected by deep dykes, served at once to neutralize
the effect of that arm in which William was most
powerful, and in which Harold almost entirely
failed ; while the position of the ground must com-
pel the foe to march, and to charge, up hill, against
all the missiles which the Saxons could pour down
from their entrenchments.
294 HAROLD.
Aiding, animating, cheering, directing all, while
the dykes were fast hollowed, and the breastworks
fast rose, the King of England rode his palfrey
from line to line, and work to work, when, look-
ing up, he saw Haco leading towards him, up the
slopes, a monk, and a warrior who, by the banderol
on his spear, and the cross on his shield, he knew
to be one of the Norman knighthood.
At that moment, Gurth and Leofwine, and those
thegns who commanded counties, were thronging
round their chief for instructions. The King dis-
mounted, and beckoning them to follow, strode
towards the spot on which had just been planted
his royal standard. There halting, he said with a
grave smile,
" I perceive that the Norman Count hath sent
us his bodes ; it is meet that with me, you, the
defenders of England, should hear what the Nor-
man saith."
" If he saith aught but prayer for his men to
return to Rouen, needless his message, and short
our answer," said Vebba, the bluff thegn of Kent.
Meanwhile the monk and the Norman knight
drew near, and paused at some short distance,
while Haco, advancing, said briefly,
HAROLD. 295
" These men I found at our outposts ; they de-
mand to speak with the King."
" Under his standard the King will hear the
Norman invader," replied Harold; "bid them
speak."
The same sallow, mournful, ominous counte-
nance, which Harold had before seen in the halls
of Westminster, rising deathlike above the serge
garb of the Benedict of Caen, now presented itself,
and the monk thus spoke,
" In the name of William, Duke of the Nor-
mans in the field, Count of Rouen in the hall,
Claimant of all the realms of Anglia, Scotland,
and the Walloons, held under Edward his cousin,
I come to thee, Harold his liege and EarL"
" Change thy titles, or depart," said Harold,
fiercely, his brow no longer mild in its majesty, but
dark as midnight. " What says William the Count
of the Foreigners, to Harold, King of the Angles,
and Basileus of Britain ?"
" Protesting against thy assumption, I answer
thee thus," said Hugues Maigrot. First, again he
offers thee all Northumbria, up to the realm of the
Scottish sub-king, if thou wilt fulfil thy vow and
cede him the crown."
296 HAROLD.
"Already have I answered, the crown is not
mine to give ; and my people stand round me in
arms to defend the king of their choice. What
next?"
" Next, offers William to withdraw his troops
from the land, if thou, and thy council and chiefs,
will submit to the arbitrement of our most holy
Pontiff, Alexander the Second, and abide by his
decision whether thou or my liege have the best
right to the throne."
" This, as Churchman," said the Abbot of the
great Convent of Peterboro', (who, with the Abbot
of Hide, had joined the march of Harold, deeming
as one the cause of altar and throne,) " this, as
Churchman, may / take leave to answer. Never
yet hath it been heard in England, that the spi-
ritual suzerain of Rome should give us our
kings."
" And," said Harold, with a bitter smile, " the
Pope hath already summoned me to this trial, as
if the laws of England were kept in the rolls of
the Vatican! Already, if rightly informed, the
Pope hath been pleased to decide that our Saxon
land is the Norman's. I reject a judge without a
right to decide ; and I mock at a sentence that
HAROLD. 297
profanes heaven in its insult to men. Is this
all?"
" One last offer yet remains," replied the monk
sternly. " This knight shall deliver its import.
But ere I depart, and thou and thine are rendered
up to Vengeance Divine, I speak the words of a
mightier chief than William of Rouen. Thus
saith his Holiness, with whom rests the power to
bind and to loose, to bless and to curse : ' Harold,
the Perjurer, thou art accursed ! On thee, and on
all who lift hand in thy cause, rests the interdict
of the Church. Thou art excommunicated from
the family of Christ. On thy land, with its peers
and its people, yea, to the beast in the field and
the bird in the air, to the seed as the sower, the
harvest as the reaper, rests God's anathema ! The
bull of the Vatican is in the tent of the Norman;
the gonfanon of St. Peter hallows yon armies to
the service of Heaven. March on, then : ye march
as the Assyrian ; and the angel of the Lord awaits
ye on the way ! ' >:
At these words, which for the first time ap-
prised the English leaders that their king and
kingdom were under the awful ban of excommu-
nication, the thegns and the abbots gazed on each
o3
298 HAROLD.
other aghast. A visible shudder passed over the
whole warlike conclave, save only three, Harold,
and Gurth, and Haco.
The King himself was so moved by indignation
at the insolence of the monk, and by scorn at the
fulmen, which, resting not alone on his own head,
presumed to blast the liberties of a nation, that he
strode towards the speaker, and it is even said of
him by the Norman chroniclers, that he raised his
hand as if to strike the denouncer to the earth.
But Gurth interposed, and with his clear eye
serenely shining with virtuous passion, he stood
betwixt monk and king.
" O thou," he exclaimed, " with the words of
religion on thy lips, and the devices of fraud in
thy heart, hide thy front in thy cowl, and slink-
back to thy master. Heard ye not, thegns and
abbots, heard ye not this bad, false man offer, as if
for peace, and as with the desire of justice, that
the Pope should arbitrate between your King and
the Norman? yet all the while the monk knew
that the Pope had already predetermined the
cause ; and had ye fallen into the wile, ye would
but have cowered under the verdict of a judgment
that has presumed, even before it invoked ye to
HAROLD. 299
the trial, to dispose of a free people and an ancient
kingdom ! "
" It is true, it is true," cried the thegns, rallying
from their first superstitious terror, and, with their
plain English sense of justice, revolted at the per-
fidy which the priest's overtures had concealed.
" We will hear no more ; away with the swike-
bode."*
The pale cheek of the monk turned yet paler,
he seemed abashed by the storm of resentment
he had provoked ; and in some fear, perhaps, at
the dark faces bent on him, he slunk behind his
comrade the knight, who as yet had said nothing,
butj his face concealed by his helmet, stood motion-
less like a steel statue. And, in fact, these two
ambassadors, the one in his monk garb, the
other in his iron array, were types and repre-
sentatives of the two forces now brought to
bear upon Harold and England Chivalry and
the Church.
At the momentary discomfiture of the Priest,
now stood forth the Warrior ; and, throwing back
his helmet, so that the whole steel cap rested on
the nape of the neck, leaving the haughty face
* Traitor-messenger.
300 HAROLD.
and half-shaven head bare, Mallet de Graville
thus spoke :
"The ban of the Church is against ye, warriors
and chiefs of England, but for the crime of one
man ! Remove it from yourselves : on his single
head be the curse and the consequence. Harold
called King of England failing the two milder
offers of my comrade, thus saith from the lips of
his knight, (once thy guest, thy admirer, and friend,)
thus saith William the Norman : ' though sixty
thousand warriors under the banner of the Apostle
wait at his beck, (and from what I see of thy force,
thou canst marshal to thy guilty side scarce a
third of the number,) yet will Count William
lay aside all advantage, save what dwells in strong
arm and good cause ; and here, in presence of thy
thegns, I challenge thee in his name, to decide
the sway of this realm by single battle. On horse
and in mail, with sword and with spear, knight to
knight, man to man, wilt thou meet William the
Norman?'"
Before Harold could reply, and listen to the
first impulse of a valour, which his worst Norman
maligner, in the after day of triumphant calumny,
never so lied as to impugn, the thegns them-
HAROLD. 301
selves, almost with one voice, took up the
reply.
"No strife between a man and a man shall
decide the liberties of thousands ! "
" Never," exclaimed Gurth. " It were an insult
to the whole people to regard this as a strife
between two chiefs, which should wear a crown.
When the invader is in our land, the war is with
a nation, not a king. And, by the very offer,
this Norman Count (who cannot even speak our
tongue,) shows how little he knows of the laws, by
which, under our native kings, we have all as
great an interest as a king himself, in our Father-
land."
" Thou hast heard the answer of England from
those lips, Sire de Graville," said Harold : " mine
but repeat and sanction it. I will not give
the crown to William in lieu for disgrace and an
Earldom. I will not abide by the arbitrement of a
Pope who has dared to affix a curse upon freedom.
I will not so violate the principle which in these
realms knits king and people, as to arrogate to
my single arm the right to dispose of the birth-
right of the living, and their races unborn ; nor will
I deprive the meanest soldier under my banner,
302 HAROLD.
of the joy and the glory to fight for his native
land. If William seek me, he shall find me,
where war is the fiercest, where the corpses of his
men lie the thickest on the plains, defending this
standard, or rushing on his own. And so, not
Monk and Pope, but God in his wisdom, adjudge
between us I "
" So be it," said Mallet De Graville, solemnly,
and his helmet re-closed over his face. " Look to
it, recreant knight, perjured Christian, and usurp-
ing King ! The bones of the Dead fight against
thee."
" And the fleshless hands of the Saints marshal
the hosts of the living," said the monk.
And so the messengers turned, without obei-
sance or salute, and strode silently away.
CHAPTER VI.
THE rest of that day, and the whole of the
next, were consumed by both armaments in the
completion of their preparations.
William was willing to delay the engagement
as long as he could ; for he was not without hope
that Harold might abandon his formidable posi-
tion, and become the assailing party ; and,
moreover, he wished to have full time for his
prelates and priests to inflame to the utmost, by
their representations of William' s moderation in
his embassy, and Harold's presumptuous guilt in
rejection, the fiery fanaticism of all enlisted under
the goufanon of the Church.
On the other hand, every delay was of advan-
tage to Harold, in giving him leisure to render
his entrenchments yet more effectual, and to
allow time for such reinforcements as his orders
304 HAROLD.
had enjoined, or the patriotism of the country
might arouse ; but, alas ! those reinforcements
were scanty and insignificant ; a few stragglers in
the immediate neighbourhood arrived, but no aid
came from London, no indignant country poured
forth a swarming population. In fact, the very
fame of Harold, and the good fortune that had
hitherto attended his arms, contributed to the
stupid lethargy of the people. That he who had
just subdued the terrible Norsemen, with the
mighty Hardrada at their head, should succumb
to those dainty "Frenchmen," as they chose to
call the Normans ; of whom, in their insular
ignorance of the continent, they knew but little,
and whom they had seen flying in all directions
at the return of Godwin; was a preposterous
demand on the imagination.
Nor was this all : in London, there had already
formed a cabal in favour of the Atheling. The
claims of birth can never be so wholly set aside,
but what, even for the most unworthy heir of
an ancient line, some adherents will be found.
The prudent traders thought it best not to
engage actively on behalf of the reigning King,
in his present combat with the Norman pre-
HAROLD. 305
tender ; a large number of would-be statesmen
thought it best for the country to remain for the
present neutral. Grant the worst grant that
Harold were defeated or slain ; would it not be
wise to reserve their strength to support the
Atheling ? William might have some personal
cause of quarrel against Harold, but he could have
none against Edgar; he might depose the son of
Godwin, but could he dare to depose the de-
scendant of Cerdic, the natural heir of Edward ?
There is reason to think that Stigand, and a large
party of the Saxon Churchmen, headed this faction.
But the main causes for defection were not
in adherence to one chief or to another. They
were to be found in selfish inertness, in stub-
born conceit, in the long peace, and the enervate
superstition which had relaxed the sinews of
the old Saxon manhood; in that indifference
to things ancient, which contempt for old names
and races engendered ; that timorous spirit of
calculation, which the over regard for wealth
had fostered; which made men averse to leave
trade and farm for the perils of the field, and
jeopardize their possessions if the foreigner should
prevail.
306 HAROLD.
Accustomed already to kings of a foreign race,
and having fared well under Canute, there were
many who said, " What matters who sits on the
throne ? the king must be equally bound by our
laws." Then too was heard the favourite argu-
ment of all slothful minds : " Time enough yet !
one battle lost is not England won. Marry, we
shall turn out fast enow if Harold be beaten."
Add to all these causes for apathy and de-
sertion, the haughty jealousies of the several
populations not yet wholly fused into one empire.
The Northumbrian Danes, untaught even by
their recent escape from the Norwegian, regarded
with ungrateful coldness a war limited at present
to the southern coasts ; and the vast territory
under Mercia was, with more excuse, equally
supine ; while their two young Earls, too new in
their command to have much sway with their
subject populations, had they been in their
capitals, had now arrived in London ; and there
lingered, making head, doubtless, against the
intrigues in favour of the Atheling; so little had
Harold's marriage with Aldyth brought him, at
the hour of his dreadest need, the power for
which happiness had been resigned !
HAROLD. 307
Nor must we put out of account, in summing
the causes which at this awful crisis weakened
the arm of England, the curse of slavery amongst
the theowes, which left the lowest part of the
population wholly without interest in the de-
fence of the land. Too late too late for all but
unavailing slaughter, the spirit of the country
rose amidst the violated pledges, but under the
iron heel, of the Norman Master ! Had that
spirit put forth all its might for one day with
Harold, where had been the centuries of bondage !
Oh, shame to the absent All blessed those pre-
sent ! There was no hope for England out of the
scanty lines of the immortal army encamped on
the field of Hastings. There, long on earth, and
vain vaunts of poor pride, shall be kept the roll
of the robber-invaders. In what roll are your
names, holy Heroes of the Soil ? Yes, may the
prayer of the Virgin Queen be registered on
high ; and, assoiled of all sin, O ghosts of the
glorious Dead, may ye rise from your graves at
the trump of the angel ; and your names, lost
on earth, shine radiant and stainless amidst the
Hierarchy of Heaven !
Dull came the shades of evening, and pale
308 HAROLD.
through the rolling clouds glimmered the rising
stars ; when, all prepared, all arrayed, Harold
sat with Haco and Gurth, in his tent ; and before
them stood a man, half French by origin, who had
just returned from the Norman camp.
" So thou didst mingle with the men undis-
covered ? " said the King.
"No, not undiscovered, my lord. I fell in
with a knight, whose name I have since heard as
that of Mallet de Graville, who wilily seemed to
believe in what I stated, and who gave me meat
and drink, with debounair courtesy. Then said
he abruptly, ' Spy from Harold, thou hast come
to see the strength of the Norman. Thou shalt
have thy will follow me.' Therewith he led me,
all startled I own, through the lines ; and, O King,
I should deem them indeed countless as the sands,
and resistless as the waves, but that, strange as
it may seem to thee, I saw more monks than
warriors."
" How ! thou jestest ! " said Gurth, surprised.
"No; for thousands by thousands, they were
praying and kneeling; and their heads were all
shaven with the tonsure of priests."
" Priests are they not," cried Harold, with his
HAROLD. 309
calm smile, "but doughty warriors and dauntless
knights."
Then he continued his questions to the spy;
and his smile vanished at the accounts, not only
of the numbers of the force, but their vast pro-
vision of missives, and the almost incredible
proportion of their cavalry.
As soon as the spy had been dismissed, the
King turned to his kinsmen.
" What think you?" he said; " shall we judge
ourselves of the foe ? The night will be dark anon
our steeds are fleet and not shod with iron
like the Normans; the sward noiseless What
think you?"
" A merry conceit," cried the blithe Leofwine.
" I should like much to see the boar in his den,
ere he taste "of my spear-point."
" And I," said Gurth, " do feel so restless a
fever in my veins, that I would fain cool it by the
night air. Let us go : I know all the ways of the
country ; for hither have I come often with hawk
and hound. But let us wait yet till the night is
more hushed and deep."
The clouds had gathered over the whole surface
of the skies, and there hung sullen ; and the
310 HAROLD.
mists were cold and grey on the lower grounds,
when the four Saxon chiefs set forth on their
secret and perilous enterprise.
" Knights and riders took they none,
Squires and varlets of foot not one ;
All unarmed of weapon and weed,
Save the shield, and spear, and the sword
at need."*
Passing their own sentinels, they entered a
wood, Gurth leading the way, and catching
glimpses, through the irregular path, of the blazing
lights, that shone red over the pause of the Nor-
man war.
William had moved on his army to within
about two miles from the farthest outpost of the
Saxon, and contracted his lines into compact
space ; the reconnoiterers were thus enabled, by
the light of the links and watchfires, to form
no inaccurate notion of the formidable foe whom
the morrow was to meet. The ground f on which
" Ne meinent od els chevalier,
Varlct a pie ne eskuier
Nc nul d'els n'a armes portee,
Forz sol escu, lance, et espee."
Roman de Ron, Second Part, v. 12,126.
\ " Ke d' one angarde 1 u ils 'estuient
Cels de 1'oat virent, ki pros furent." 76.
1 Angarde, eminence.
HAROLD. 311
they stood was high, and in the deep shadow of
the wood ; with one of the large dykes common to
the Saxon boundaries in front, so that, even if
discovered, a barrier not easily passed lay be-
tween them and the foe.
In regular lines and streets extended huts of
branches for the meaner soldiers, leading up, in
serried rows but broad vistas, to the tents of the
knights, and the gaudier pavilions of the counts
and prelates. There, were to be seen the flags of
Bretagne and Anjou, of Burgundy, of Flanders,
even the ensign of France, which the volunteers
from that country had assumed ; and right in
the midst of this Capital of War, the gorgeous
pavilion of William himself, with a dragon of gold
before it, surmounting the staff, from which blazed
the Papal gonfanon. In every division they heard
the anvils of the armourers, the measured tread
of the sentries, the neigh and snort of innu-
merable steeds. And along the lines, between
hut and tent, they saw tall shapes passing to and
from the forge and smithy, bearing mail, and
swords, and shafts. No sound of revel, no laugh
of wassail was heard in the consecrated camp;
all was astir, but with the grave and earnest pre-
312 HAROLD.
parations of thoughtful men. As the four Saxons
halted silent, each might have heard, through the
remoter din, the other's painful breathing.
At length, from two tents, placed to the right
and the left of the Duke's pavilion, there came a
sweet tinkling sound, as of deep silver bells. At
that note there was an evident and universal com-
motion throughout the armament. The roar
of the hammers ceased; and, from every green
hut and every grey tent, swarmed the host.
Now, rows of living men lined the camp-streets,
leaving still a free, though narrow passage in the
midst. And, by the blaze of more than a thou-
sand torches, the Saxons saw processions of priests,
in their robes and aubes, with censer and rood,
coming down the various avenues. As the priests
paused, the warriors knelt ; and there was a low
murmur as if of confession, and the sign of lifted
hands, as if in absolution and blessing. Suddenly,
from the outskirts of the camp, and full in sight,
emerged, from one of the cross lanes, Odo of
Bayeux himself, in his white surplice, and the
cross in his right hand. Yea, even to the meanest
and lowliest soldiers of the armament, whether
taken from honest craft and peaceful calling, or
HAROLD. 313
the outpourings of Europe's sinks and sewers,
catamarans from the Alps, and cut-throats from
the Rhine, yea, even among the vilest and the
meanest, came the anointed brother of the great
Duke, the haughtiest prelate in Christendom,
whose heart even then was fixed on the Pontiff's
throne there he came, to absolve, and to shrive,
and to bless. And the red watchfires streamed on
his proud face and spotless robes, as the Children
of Wrath knelt around the Delegate of Peace.
Harold's hand clenched firm on the arm of
Gurth, and his old scorn of the monk broke forth
in his bitter smile and his muttered words. But
Gurth's face was sad and awed.
And now, as the huts and the canvass thus
gave up the living, they could indeed behold
the enormous disparity of numbers with which it
was their doom to contend, and, over those
numbers, that dread intensity of zeal, that sub-
limity of fanaticism, which from one end of that
war-town to the other, consecrated injustice, gave
the heroism of the martyr to ambition, and blended
the whisper of lusting avarice with the self-ap-
plauses of the saint !
Not a word said the four Saxons. But as the
VOL. in. P
314 HAROLD.
priestly procession glided to the farther quar-
ters of the armament, as the soldiers in their
neighbourhood disappeared within their lodg-
ments, and the torches moved from them to the
more distant vistas of the camp, like lines of
retreating stars, Gurth heaved a heavy sigh, and
turned his horse's head from the scene.
But scarce had they gained the centre of the
wood, than there rose, as from the heart of the
armament, a swell of solemn voices. For the
night had now come to the third watch,* in which,
according to the belief of the age, angel and fiend
were alike astir, and that church-division of time
was marked and hallowed by a monastic hymn.
Inexpressibly grave, solemn, and mournful came
the strain through the drooping boughs, and the
heavy darkness of the air; and it continued
to thrill in the ears of the riders till they had
passed the wood, and the cheerful watchfires from
their own heights broke upon them to guide their
way. They rode rapidly, but still in silence,
passed their sentries ; and, ascending the slopes,
where the force lay thick, how different were the
sounds that smote them ! Round the large fires
* Midnight.
HAROLD. 315
the men grouped in great circles, with the ale-
horns and flagons passing merrily from hand to
hand ; shouts of drink-hsel and was-hsel, bursts
of gay laughter, snatches of old songs, old as the
days of Athelstan, varying, where the Anglo-
Danes lay, into the far more animated and kind-
ling poetry of the Pirate North, still spoke of the
heathen time when War was a joy, and Valhalla
was the heaven.
" By my faith," said Leofwine brightening ;
" these are sounds and sights that do a man's
heart good, after those doleful ditties, and the
long faces of the shavelings. I vow by St. Alban,
that I felt my veins curdling into icebolts, when
that dirge came through the woodholt. Hollo,
Sexwolf, my tall man, lift us up that full horn o
thine, and keep thyself within the pins, Master
Wassailer; we must have steady feet and cool
heads to-morrow."
Sexwolf, who, with a band of Harold's veterans,
was at full carousal, started up at the young Earl's
greetings, and looked lovingly into his smiling
face as he reached him the horn.
" Heed what my brother bids thee, Sexwolf,"
said Harold severely; "the hands that draw shafts
p 2
316 HAROLD.
against us to-morrow will not tremble with the
night's wassail."
" Nor ours either, my lord the King," said Sex-
wolf, boldly ; " our heads can bear both drink and
blows, and (turning his voice into a whisper)
the rumour runs that the odds are so against us,
that I would not, for all thy fair brothers' earl-
doms, have our men other than blithe to-night."
Harold answered not, but moved on, and coming
then within full sight of the bold Saxons of Kent,
the unmixed sons of the Saxon soil, and the
special favourers of the House of Godwin, so
affectionate, hearty, and cordial was their joyous
shout of his name, that he felt his kingly heart
leap within him. Dismounting, he entered the
circle, and with the august frankness of a noble
chief, nobly popular, gave to all, cheering smile
and animating word. That done, he said more
gravely : " In less than an hour, all wassail must
cease, my bodes will come round; and then
sound sleep, my brave merry men, and lusty rising
with the lark !"
" As you will, as you will, dear our King," cried
Vebba, as spokesman for the soldiers. " Fear us
not life and death, we are yours."
HAROLD. 317
" Life and death yours, and freedom's/' cried
the Kent men.
Coming now towards the royal tent beside the
standard, the discipline was more perfect, and
the hush decorous. For round that standard,
were both the special body-guard of the King, and
the volunteers from London and Middlesex ; men
more intelligent than the bulk of the army, and
more gravely aware, therefore, of the might of the
Norman sword.
Harold entered his tent, and threw himself on
his couch, in deep reverie ; his brothers and
Haco watched him silently. At length, Gurth ap-
proached; and with a reverence rare in the familiar
intercourse between the two, knelt at his brother's
side, and taking Harold's hand in his, looked him
full in the face, his eyes moist with tears, and
said thus :
" Oh, Harold! never prayer have I asked of thee,
that thou hast not granted: grant me this ! sorest
of all, it may be, to grant, but most fitting of all
for me to press. Think not, O beloved brother,
O honoured King, think not it is with slight-
ing reverence, that I lay rough hand on the wound
deepest at thy heart. But, however surprised or
318 HAROLD.
compelled, sure it is that tliou didst make oath to
William, and upon the relics of saints ; avoid this
battle, for I see that thought is now within thy
soul ; that thought haunted thee in the words of
the monk to-day ; in the sight of that awful camp
to-night ; avoid this battle ! and do not thyself
stand in arms against the man to whom the oath
was pledged ! "
" Gurth, Garth!" exclaimed Harold, pale and
writhing.
" We/' continued his brother, " we at least have
taken no oath, no perjury is charged against us ;
vainly the thunders of the Vatican are launched on
our heads. Our war is just : we but defend our
country. Leave us, then, to fight to-morrow; thou,
retire towards London, and raise fresh armies ; if
we win, the danger is past ; if we lose, thou wilt
avenge us. And England is not lost while thou
survivest."
" Gurth, Gurth ! " again exclaimed Harold, in
a voice piercing in its pathos of reproach.
" Gurth counsels well," said Haco, abruptly ;
." there can be no doubt of the wisdom of his
words. Let the King's kinsmen lead the troops ;
let the King himself with his guard hasten to
HAROLD. 319
London, and ravage and lay waste the country
as he retreats by the way;* so that even if William
beat us, all supplies will fail him ; he will be in
a land without forage, and victory here will aid
him nought ; for you, my liege, will have a force
equal to his own, ere he can march to the gates
of London."
" Faith and troth, the young Haco speaks like
a greybeard ; he hath not lived in Rouen for
nought/' quoth Leofwine. " Hear him, my
Harold, and leave us to shave the Normans
yet more closely than the barber hath already
shorn."
Harold turned ear and eye to each of the
speakers, and as Leofwine closed, he smiled.
" Ye have chid me well, kinsmen, for a thought
that had entered into my mind ere ye spake."
Gurth interrupted the King, and said
anxiously,
" To retreat with the whole army upon London,
and refuse to meet the Norman till with numbers
more fairly matched ?"
* This counsel, the Norman chronicler ascribes to Gurth, but it
is so at variance with the character of that hero, that it is here as-
signed to the unscrupulous intellect of Haco.
320 HAROLD.
" That had been my thought," said Harold
surprised.
" Such for a moment, too, was mine," said
Gurth, sadly ; " but it is too late. Such a mea-
sure, now, would have all the disgrace of flight,
and bring none of the profits of retreat. The ban
of the Church would get wind ; our priests, awed
and alarmed, might wield it against us ; the whole
population would be damped and disheartened;
rivals to the crown might start up ; the realm be
divided. No, it is impossible \"
" Impossible," said Harold, calmly. " And if the
army cannot retreat, of all men to stand firm,
surely it is the Captain and the King. 7, Gurth,
leave others to dare the fate from which I fly !
/ give weight to the impious curse of the Pope,
by shrinking from its idle blast ! / confirm
and ratify the oath, from which all law must
absolve me, by forsaking the cause of the land
which I purify myself when I guard ! / leave
to others the agony of the martyrdom or the
glory of the conquest ! Gurth, thou art more
cruel than the Norman ! And I, son of Sweyn,
/ ravage the land committed to my charge, and
despoil the fields which I cannot keep ! Oh, Haco,
HAROLD. 321
that indeed were to be the traitor and the
recreant ! No, whatever the sin of my oath, never
will I believe that Heaven can punish millions for
the error of one man. Let the bones of the dead
war against us ; in life, they were men like our-
selves, and no saints in the calendar so holy as
the freemen who fight for their hearths and their
altars. Nor do I see aught to alarm us even in
these grave human odds. We have but to keep
fast these entrenchments ; preserve, man by man,
our invincible line; and the waves will but split
on our rock : ere the sun set to-morrow we
shall see the tide ,ebb, leaving, as waifs, but the
dead of the baffled invader.
" Fare ye well, loving kinsmen ; kiss me, my
brothers; kiss me on the cheek, my Haco. Go
now to your tents. Sleep in peace, and wake with
the trumpet to the gladness of noble war \"
Slowly the Earls left the King; slowest of
all the lingering Gurth ; and when all were
gone, and Harold was alone, he threw round
a rapid, troubled glance, and then, hurrying to
the simple imageless crucifix that stood on its
pedestal at the farther end of the tent, he fell
on his knees, and faltered out, while his breast
p3
322 HAROLD.
heaved, and his frame .shook with the travail of
hia passion,-
" If my sin be beyond a pardon, my oath
without recall, on me, on me, O Lord of Hosts,
on me alone the doom ! Not on them, not on
them not on England!"
CHAPTER VII.
ON the fourteenth of October, 1066, the day of St.
Calixtus, the Norman force was drawn out in battle
array. Mass had been said ; Odo and the Bishop
of Coutance had blessed the troops ; and received
their vow, never more to eat flesh on the anniver-
sary of that day. And Odo had mounted his
snow-white charger, and already drawn up the
cavalry against the coming of his brother the
Duke. The army was marshalled in three great
divisions.
Roger de Montgommeri and William Fitzos-
borne led the first ; and with them were the
forces from Picardy and the countship of Bou-
logne, and the fiery Franks ; Geoffric Martel and
the German Hugues (a prince of fame) ; Alain
Fergant, Duke of Bretagne, and Aimeri, Lord of
324 HAROLD.
Thouars, led the second, which comprised the
main bulk of the allies from Bretague, and Maine,
and Poitou. But both these divisions were inter-
mixed with Normans, under their own special
Norman chiefs.
The third section embraced the flower of mar-
tial Europe, the most renowned of the Norman
race; whether those knights bore the French
titles into which their ancestral Scandinavian
names had been transformed Sires of Beaufou
and Harcourt, Abbeville, and De Molun, Mont-
fichet, Grantmesnil, Lacie, D'Aincourt, and
D'Asnieres ; or whether, still preserving, amidst
their daintier titles, the old names that had scat-
tered dismay through the seas of the Baltic ;
Osborne and Tonstain, Mallet and Bulver, Brand
and Bruse.* And over this division presided
* Osborne (Asbiorn), one of the most common of Danish
and Norwegian names. Tonstain, Toustain, or Tostain, the same
asTosti, or Tostig, Danish. (Harold's brother is called Tostain
or Toustain, in the Norman chronicles.) Brand, a name common
to Dane and Norwegian Bulmer is a Norwegian name, and so
is Bulver ; the last appears in records, long before the Conquest ;
(hence, Bulver Hithe,) the celebrated scald and warrior in the
armies of Harold Hardrada, was named Bulvar or Bolver ; Bruse,
the ancestor of the deathless Scot, also bears in that name, more
illustrious than all, the proof of his Scandinavian birth.
HAROLD. 325
Duke William. Here was the main body of the
matchless cavalry, to which, however, orders were
given to support either of the other sections, as
need might demand. And with this body were
also the reserve. For it is curious to notice, that
William's strategy resembled in much that of the
last great Invader of Nations relying first upon
the effect of the charge ; secondly, upon a vast
reserve, brought to bear at the exact moment
on the weakest point of the foe.
All the horsemen were in complete link or net
mail,* armed with spears and strong swords, and
long pear-shaped shields, with the device either
of a cross or a dragon.f The archers, on whom
William greatly relied, were numerous in all
three of the corps, J were armed more lightly
helms on their heads, but with leather or quilted
breastplates, and " panels" or gaiters, for the
lower limbs.
* This mail appears in that age to have been sown upon linen
or cloth. In the later age of the crusaders, it was more artful,
and the links supported each other, without being attached to
any other material.
f Bayeux Tapestry.
J The cross-bow is not to be seen in the Bayeux Tapestry the
Norman bows are not long.
326 HAROLD.
But before the chiefs and captains rode to
their several posts, they assembled round William,
whom Fitzosborne had called betimes, and who
had not yet endued his heavy mail, that all men
might see suspended from his throat certain
relics chosen out of those on which Harold had
pledged his fatal oath. Standing on an emi-
nence in front of all his lines, the consecrated
banner behind him, and Bayard, his Spanish Des-
trier, held by his squires at his side, the Duke con-
versed cheerily with his barons, often pointing to
the relics. Then, in sight of all, he put on his
mail, and by the haste of his squires, the back-
piece was presented to him first. The supersti-
tious Normans recoiled as at an evil omen.
" Tut !" said the ready chief; " not in omens
and divinations, but in God, trust I ! Yet, good
omen indeed is this, and one that may give heart
to the most doubtful; for it betokens that the last
shall be first the dukedom a kingdom the
count a king ! Ho there, Rou de Terni, as Here-
ditary Standard-bearer take thy right, and hold
fast to yon holy gonfanon."
" Grant merci," said De Terni, " not to-day
shall a standard be borne by me, for I shall have
HAROLD. 327
need of my right arm for my sword, and my left
for my charger's rein and my trusty shield."
" Thou say'st right, and we can ill spare such a
warrior. Gautier Giffart, Sire de Longueville, to
thee is the gonfanon."
"Beau Sire," answered Gautier; "par Dex,
Merci. But my head is grey and my arm weak ;
and the little strength left me I would spend in
smiting the English at the head of my men."
" Per la resplendar De" cried Willian frown-
ing ; " do ye think, my proud vavasours, to fail
me in this great need ?i"
" Nay," said Gautier ; " but I have a great
host of chevaliers and paid soldiers, and without
the'old man at their head will they fight as well ?"
" Then, approach thou, Toiistain le Blanc, son of
Bou/' said William ; " and be thine the charge
of a standard that shall wave ere nightfall over
the brows of thy King !" A young knight, tall
and strong as his Danish ancestor, stept forth,
and laid gripe on the banner.
Then William, now completely armed, save his
helmet, sprang at one bound on his steed. A
shout of admiration rang from the Quens and
knights.
328 HAROLD.
"Saw ye ever such beau rei?" said the Vi-
comte de Thouars.
The shout was caught by the lines, and echoed
far, wide, and deep through the armament, as in
all his singular majesty of brow and mien,
William rode forth : lifting his hand, the shout
hushed, and thus he spoke "loud as a trumpet
with a silver sound."
" Normans and soldiers, long renowned in the
lips of men, and now hallowed by the blessing
of the Church ! I have not brought ye over the
wide seas for my cause alone; what I gain, you
gain. If I take the land, you will share it. Fight
your best, and spare not ; no retreat, and no
quarter ! I am not come here for my cause alone,
but to avenge our whole nation for the felonies
of yonder English. They butchered our kinsmen
the Danes, on the night of St. Brice ; they mur-
dered Alfred, the brother of their last King, and
decimated the Normans who were with him.
Yonder they stand, malefactors that await their
doom ! and ye the doomsmen ! Never, even in a
good cause, were yon English illustrious for war-
like temper and martial glory.* Remember how
WILLIAM OF POITIERS.
HAROLD. 329
easily the Danes subdued them ! Are ye less
than Danes, or I than Canute ? By vic-
tory ye obtain vengeance, glory, honours,
lands, spoil, aye, spoil beyond your wildest
dreams. By defeat, yea, even but by loss of
ground, ye are given up to the sword! Escape
there is not, for the ships are useless. Before
you the foe, behind you the ocean ! Normans,
remember the feats of your countrymen in Sicily !
Behold a Sicily more rich ! Lordships and lands
to the living, glory and salvation to those who
die under the gonfanon of the Church ! On, to
the cry of the Norman warrior ; the cry before
which have fled so often the prowest Paladins
of Burgundy and France Notre Dame et Dex
aide !"*
Meanwhile, no less vigilant, and in his own
strategy no less skilful, Harold had marshalled
his men. He formed two divisions ; those in front
of the entrenchments; those within it. At the
first, the men of Kent, as from time immemorial,
claimed the honour of the van, under " the Pale
Charger," famous banner of Hengist. This force
was drawn up in the form of the Anglo-Danish
* Dieu nous aide.
330 HAROLD.
wedge ; the foremost lines in the triangle all in
heavy mail, armed with their great axes, and
covered by their immense shields. Behind these
lines, in the interior of the wedge, were the archers,
protected by the front rows of the heavy armed ;
while the few horsemen few indeed compared
with the Norman cavalry were artfully disposed
where they could best harass and distract the
formidable chivalry with which they were in-
structed to skirmish, and not peril actual encoun-
ter. Other bodies of the light armed: slingers,
javelin throwers, and archers, were planted in
spots carefully selected, according as they were
protected by trees, bush wood, and dykes. The
Northumbrians (that is, all the warlike popula-
tion, north the Humber, including Yorkshire,
Westmoreland, Cumberland, &c.,) were, for their
present shame and future ruin, absent from that
field, save, indeed, a few who had joined Harold
in his march to London. But there, were the mixed
races of Hertfordshire and Essex, with the pure
Saxons of Sussex and Surrey, and a large body of
the sturdy Anglo-Danes from Lincolnshire, Ely and
Norfolk. Men, too, there were, half of old British
blood, from Dorset, Somerset, and Gloucester.
HAROLD. 331
And all were marshalled according to those
touching and pathetic tactics which speak of a
nation more accustomed to defend than to
aggrieve. To that field the head of each family
led his sons and kinsfolk; every ten families
(or tything) were united under their own chosen
captain. Every ten of these ty things had, again,
some loftier chief, dear to the populace in peace ;
and so on the holy circle spread from household,
hamlet, town, till, all combined, as one county
under one Earl, the warriors fought under the eyes
of their own kinsfolk, friends, neighbours, chosen
chiefs ! What wonder that they were brave ?
The second division comprised Harold's house
carles, or body-guard, the veterans especially
attached to his family, the companions of liis
successful wars, a select band of the martial
East-Anglians, the soldiery supplied by Lon-
don and Middlesex, and who, both in arms,
discipline, martial temper and athletic habits,
ranked high among the most stalwart of the
troops, mixed, as their descent was, from the war-
like Dane and the sturdy Saxon. In this division,
too, was comprised the reserve. And it was all
encompassed by the palisades and breastworks,
332 HAROLD.
to which were but three sorties, whence the
defenders might sally, or through which at need
the vanguard might secure a retreat. All the
heavy armed had mail and shields similar to the
Normans, though somewhat less heavy ; the light
armed had, some tunics of quilted linen, some of
hide ; helmets of the last material, spears, javelins,
swords, and clubs. But the main arm of the
host was in the great shield, and the great axe
wielded by men larger in stature and stronger of
muscle than the majority of the Normans, whose
physical race had deteriorated partly by intermar-
riage with the more delicate Frank, partly by the
haughty disdain of foot exercise.
Mounting a swift and light steed, intended not
for encounter, (for it was the custom of English
kings to fight on foot, in token that where they
fought there was no retreat,) but to bear the
rider rapidly from line to line,* King Harold rode
to the front of the vanguard ; his brothers by his
side. His head, like his great foe's, was bare,
nor could there be a more striking contrast than
* Thus, when at the battle of Barnet, Earl Warwick, the king-
maker, slew his horse and fought on foot, he followed the old
traditional custom of Saxon chiefs.
HAROLD. 333
that of the broad unwrinkled brow of the Saxon,
with his fair locks, the sign of royalty and free-
dom, parted and falling over the collar of mail,
the clear and steadfast eye of blue, the cheek
somewhat hollowed by kingly cares, but flushed
now with manly pride the form stalwart and
erect, but spare in its graceful symmetry, and
void of all that theatric pomp of bearing which
was assumed by "William no greater contrast
could there be than that which the simple earnest
Hero-king presented, to the brow furrowed with
harsh ire and politic wile, the shaven hair of
monastic affectation, the dark, sparkling tiger
eye, and the vast proportions that awed the gaze
in the port and form, of the imperious Norman.
Deep and loud and hearty as the shout with
which his armaments had welcomed William, was
that which now greeted the King of the English
host : and clear and full, and practised in the
storm of popular assemblies, went his voice down
the listening lines.
" This day, O friends and Englishmen, sons of
our common land this day ye fight for liberty.
The Count of the Normans hath, I know, a mighty
army ; I disguise not its strength. That army he
334 HAROLD.
hath collected together, by promising to each man
a share in the spoils of England. Already, in his
court and his camp, he hath parcelled out the
lands of this kingdom ; and fierce are the robbers
that fight for the hope of plunder ! But he cannot
offer to his greatest chief boons nobler than those
1 offer to my meanest freeman liberty, and
right, and law, in the soil of his fathers ! Ye have
heard of the miseries endured in the old time
under the Dane, but they were slight indeed to
those which ye may expect from the Norman.
The Dane was kindred to us in language and in
law, and who now can tell Saxon from Dane ? But
yon men would rule ye in a language ye know not,
by a law that claims the crown as the right
of the sword, and divides the land among the
hirelings of an army. We baptized the Dane,
and the Church tamed his fierce soul into peace ;
but yon men make the Church itself their ally,
and march to Carnage under the banner profaned
to the foulest of human wrongs ! Outscouriugs of
all nations, they come against you : Ye fight as
brothers under the eyes of your fathers and chosen
chiefs ; ye fight for the women ye would save
from the ravisher; ye tight for the children ye
HAROLD. 335
would guard from eternal bondage; ye fight for
the altars which yon banner now darkens !
Foreign priest is a tyrant as ruthless and stern
as ye shall find foreign baron and king ! Let no
man dream of retreat ; every inch of ground that
ye yield is the soil of your native land. For me, on
this field I peril all. Think that mine eye is upon
you wherever ye are. If a line waver or shrink,
ye shall hear in the midst the voice of your King.
Hold fast to your ranks, remember, such amongst
you as fought with me against Hardrada, re-
member that it was not till the Norsemen lost, by
rash sallies, their serried array, that our arms
prevailed against them. Be warned by their fatal
error, break not the form of the battle; and I
tell you on the faith of a soldier who never yet
hath left field without victory, that ye cannot be
beaten. While I speak, the winds swell the sails
of the Norse ships, bearing home the corpse of
Hardrada. Accomplish this day the last triumph of
England ; add to these hills a new mount of the
conquered dead ! And when, in far times and
strange lands, scald and scop shall praise the brave
man for some valiant deed wrought in some holy
cause, they shall say, ' He was brave as those
336 HAROLD.
who fought by the side of Harold, and swept from
the sward of England the hosts of the haughty
Norman.' '
Scarcely had the rapturous hurrahs of the
Saxons closed on this speech, when full in sight,
north-west of Hastings, came the first division of
the Invader.
Harold remained gazing at them, and not seeing
the other sections in movement, said to Grurth,
" If these are all that they venture out, the day
is ours."
"Look yonder !" said the sombre Haco, and he
pointed to the long array that now gleamed from
the wood through which the Saxon kinsmen had
passed the night before ; and scarcely were these
cohorts in view, than lo! from a third quarter
advanced the glittering knighthood under the
Duke. All three divisions came on in simulta-
neous assault, two on either wing of the Saxon
vanguard, the third (the Norman) towards the
entrenchments.
In the midst of the Duke's cohort was the
sacred gonfanon, and in front of it and of the
whole line, rode a strange warrior of gigantic
height. And, as he rode, the warrior sang,
HAROLD. 337
" Chaunting loud the lusty strain
Of Roland and of Charlemain,
And the dead, who, deathless all,
Fell at famous Roncesval."*
And the knights, no longer singing hymn and
litany, swelled, hoarse through their helmets, the
martial chorus. This warrior, in front of the
Duke and the horsemen, seemed beside himself
with the joy of battle. As he rode, and as he
chaunted, he threw up his sword in the air like a
gleeman, catching it nimbly as it fell,f and flou-
rishing it wildly, till, as if unable to restrain his
fierce exhilaration, he fairly put spurs to his horse,
and, dashing forward to the very front of a detach-
ment of Saxon riders, shouted,
"ATaillefer! a Taillefer!" and by voice and
gesture challenged forth some one to single
combat.
A fiery young thegn who knew the Romance-
* Devant li Dus alout cantant
De Karlemaine e de Rollant,
Ed 'Olever e des Vassalls
Ki morurent en Ronchevals.
ROMAN DE Rou, Part ii. 1. 13,151.
Much research has beeu made by French antiquaries, to dis-
cover the old Chant de Roland, but in vain,
f W. PICT. Chron. de Nor.
VOL. III. Q
338 HAROLD.
tongue, started forth and crossed swords with the
poet ; but by what seemed rather a juggler's sleight
of hand than a knight's fair fence, Taillefer, again
throwing up and catching his sword with incre-
dible rapidity, shore the unhappy Saxon from the
helm to the chine, and, riding over his corpse,
shouting and laughing, he again renewed his chal-
lenge. A second rode forth and shared the same
fate. The rest of the English horsemen stared at
each other aghast : the shouting, singing, juggling
giant seemed to them not knight, but demon ;
and that single incident, preliminary to all other
battle, in sight of the whole field, might have suf-
ficed to damp the ardour of the English, had not
Leofwine, who had been despatched by the King
with a message to the entrenchments, come in
front of the detachment ; and his gay spirit, roused
and stung by the insolence of the Norman, and
the evident dismay of the Saxon riders, without
thought of his graver duties, he spurred his light
half- mailed steed to the Norman giant ; and, not
even drawing his sword, but with his spear raised
over his head, and his form covered by his shield,
he cried in Romance-tongue, " Go and chaunt to
the Furies, O croaking Orpheus/' Taillcfer rushed
HAROLD. 339
forward, his sword shivered on the Saxon shield,
and in the same moment he fell a corpse under
the hoofs of his steed, transfixed by the Saxon
spear.
A cry of woe, in which even William (who,
proud of his poet's achievements, had pressed
to the foremost line to see this new encounter)
joined his deep voice, wailed through the Norman
ranks ; while Leofwine rode deliberately towards
them, halted a moment, and then flung his spear
in the midst with so deadly an aim, that a young
knight, within two of William, reeled on his
saddle, groaned, and fell.
" How like ye, O Normans, the Saxon glee-
men?" said Leofwine, as he turned slowly,
regained the detachment, and bade them heed
carefully the orders they had received, viz. to
avoid the direct charge of the Norman horse, but
take every occasion to harass and divert the strag-
glers ; and then blithely singing a Saxon stave, as
if inspired by Norman minstrelsy, he rode into
the entrenchments.
CHAPTER VIII.
TUE two brethren of "Waltham, Osgood and
Ailred, had arrived a little after daybreak at
the spot in which, about half a mile to the rear
of Harold's palisades, the beasts of burden that
had borne the heavy arms, missiles, luggage, and
forage of the Saxon march, were placed in and
about the fenced yards of a farm. And many
human beings, of both sexes and various ranks,
were there assembled, some in breathless ex-
pectation, some in careless talk, some in fervent
prayer.
The master of the farm, his sons, and the
able-bodied ceorls in his employ, had joined the
forces of the King, under Gurth, as Earl of the
county.* But many aged theowes, past military
* For, as Sir F. Palgrave shrewdly conjectures, upon the dis-
memberment of the vast earldom of Wessex, on Harold's accession
to the throne, that portion of it comprising Sussex, (the old go-
Ternment of his grandfather Wolnoth,) seems to have been assigned
to Gurth.
HAROLD. 341
service, and young children, grouped around : the
first, stolid and indifferent the last, prattling,
curious, lively, gay. There, too, were the wives
of some of the soldiers, who, as common in Saxon
expeditions, had followed their husbands to the
field ; and there, too, were the ladies of many a
Hlaford in the neighbouring district, who, no
less true to their mates than the wives of hum-
bler men, were drawn by their English hearts
to the fatal spot. A small wooden chapel, half
decayed, stood a little behind, with its doors wide
open, a sanctuary in case of need ; and the in-
terior was thronged with kneeling suppliants.
The two monks joined, with pious gladness,
some of their sacred calling, who were leaning
over the low wall, and straining their eyes towards
the bristling field. A little apart from them, and
from all, stood a female; the hood drawn over
her face, silent in her unknown thoughts.
By and by, as the march of the Norman mul-
titude sounded hollow, and the trumps, and the
fifes, and the shouts, rolled on through the air,
in many a stormy peal, the two Abbots in the
Saxon camp, with their attendant monks, came
riding towards the farm from the entrenchments.
342 HAROLD.
The groups gathered round these new comers
in haste and eagerness.
"The battle hath begun," said the Abbot of
Hide, gravely. "Pray God for England, for
never was its people in peril so great from man."
The female started and shuddered at those words.
" And the King, the King," she cried, in a
sudden and thrilling voice ; " where is he ? the
King?"
" Daughter," said the Abbot, " the King's post
is by his standard ; but I left him in the van of
his troops. Where he may be now I know not.
Wherever the foe presses sorest."
Then dismounting, the Abbots entered the
yard, to be accosted instantly by all the wives,
who deemed, poor souls, that the holy men must,
throughout all the field, have seen their lords ;
for each felt as if God's world hung but on the
single life in which each pale trembler lived.
With all their faults of ignorance and super-
stition, the Saxon churchmen loved their flocks ;
and the good Abbots gave what comfort was in
their power, and then passed into the chapel,
where all who could find room followed them.
The war now raged.
HAROLD. 343
The two divisions of the invading army that
included the auxiliaries, had sought in vain
to surround the English vanguard, and take it
in the rear : that noble phalanx had no rear.
Deepest and strongest at the base of the triangle,
every where a front opposed the foe; shields
formed a rampart against the dart spears a
palisade against the horse. William, unable to
pierce to the entrenchments, while that vanguard
maintained its ground ; but, having approached
near enough to behold, with admiring surprise,
their strength, now changed his tactics, joined
his knighthood to the other sections, threw his
hosts rapidly into many wings, and leaving broad
spaces between his archers who continued their
fiery hail ordered his heavy-armed foot to ad-
vance on all sides upon the wedge, and break
its ranks for the awaiting charge of his horse.
Harold, still in the centre of the vanguard,
amidst the men of Kent, continued to animate
them all with voice and hand ; and, as the Nor-
mans now closed in, he flung himself from his
steed, and strode on foot, with his mighty battle-
axe, to where the rush was dreadest.
Now came the shock the fight hand to hand :
344 HAROLD.
spear and lance were thrown aside, axe and sword
rose and shore. But before the close-serried
lines of the English, with their physical strength,
and veteran practice in their own special arm,
the Norman foot were mowed as by the scythe.
In vain, in the intervals, thundered the repeated
charges of the fiery knights ; in vain, throughout
all, came the shaft and the bolt.
Animated by the presence of their King fighting
amongst them as a simple soldier, but with his
eye ever quick to foresee, his voice ever prompt
to warn, the men of Kent swerved not a foot
from their indomitable ranks. The Norman in-
fantry wavered and gave way ; on, step by step,
still unbroken in array, pressed the English.
And their cry, " Out ! out ! Holy Crosse !" rose
high above the flagging sound of " Ha Rou !
Ha Rou ! Notre Dame ! "
" Per la resplendar D6," cried William.
" Our soldiers are but women in the garb of
Normans. Ho, spears to the rescue ! With me
to the charge, Sires D'Aumale and De Littain
with me, gallant Bruse, and DeMortain; with me,
De Graville and Grautmesnil Dex aide ! Notre
Dame." And heading his prowest knights,
HAROLD. 345
William came, as a thunderbolt, on the bills and
shields. Harold, who scarce a minute before
had been in a remoter rank, was already at the
brunt of that charge. At his word down knelt
the foremost line, leaving nought but their shields
and their spear- points against the horse. While
behind them, the axe in both hands, bent for-
ward the soldiery in the second rank, to smite
and to crush. And behind, from the core of
the wedge, poured the shafts of the archers.
Down rolled in the dust half the charge of those
knights. Bruse reeled on his saddle ; the dread
right hand of D'Aumale fell lopped by the axe ;
De Graville, hurled from his horse, rolled at the feet
of Harold ; and William, borne by his great steed
and his colossal strength into the third rank
there dealt, right and left, the fierce strokes of
his iron club, till he felt his horse sinking under
him and had scarcely time to back out of the
foe scarcely time to get beyond reach of their
weapons, ere the Spanish destrier, frightfully
gashed through its strong mail, fell dead on the
plain. His knights swept round him. Twenty
barons sprang from selle to yield him their
chargers. He chose the one nearest to hand,
Q 3
346 HAROLD.
sprang to foot and to stirrup, and rode back to
his lines. Meanwhile De Graville's casque, its
strings broken by the shock, had fallen off, and
as Harold was about to strike, he recognised his
guest.
Holding up his hand to keep off the press of
his men, the generous King said briefly " Rise
and retreat ! no time on this field for captor and
captive. He whom thou hast called recreant
knight, has been Saxon host. Thou hast fought
by his side, thou shalt not die by his hand !
Go."
Not a word spoke De Graville; but his dark
eye dwelt one minute with mingled pity and
reverence on the King ; and then rising slowly, he
turned away; and slowly, as if he disdained to
fly, strode back over the corpses of his country-
men.
" Stay, all hands !" cried the King to his
archers ; " yon man hath tasted our salt, and
done us good service of old. He hath paid his
weregeld."
Not a shaft was discharged.
Meanwhile, the Norman infantry, who had
been before recoiling, no sooner saw their Duke
HAHOLD. 347
(whom they recognised by his steed and equip-
ment) fall on the ground, than, setting up a shout
" The Duke is dead I" they fairly turned round,
and fled fast in disorder.
The fortune of the day was now well nigh
turned in favour of the Saxons; and the con-
fusion of the Normans, as the cry of " The Duke
is dead \" reached, and circled round, the host,
would have been irrecoverable, had Harold pos-
sessed a cavalry fit to press the advantage gained,
or had not William himself rushed into the midst
of the fugitives, throwing his helmet back on his
neck, showing his face, all animated with fierce
valour and disdainful wrath, while he cried aloud
" I live, ye varlets ! Behold the face of a chief
who never yet forgave coward ! Ay, tremble more
at me than at yon English, doomed and accursed
as they be ! Ye Normans, ye ! I blush for you \"
and striking the foremost in the retreat with the
flat of his sword, chiding, stimulating, threatening,
promising in a breath, he succeeded in staying
the flight, re-forming the lines, and dispelling the
general panic. Then as he joined his own chosen
knights, and surveyed the field, he beheld an
opening which the advanced position of the Saxon
348 HAROLD.
vanguard had left, and by which his knights
might gain the entrenchments. He mused a
moment, his face still hare, and hrightening, as
he mused. Looking round him, he saw Mallet
de Graville, who had re-mounted, and said, shortly,
" Pardex, dear knight, we thought you already
with St. Michael ! joy, that you live yet to be
an English earl. Look you, ride to Fitzosborne
with the signal- word, ' Li Hardiz passent avant. 1 '
OS, and quick."
De Graville bowed, and darted across the plain.
"Now, my Quens and chevaliers," said William,
gaily, as he closed his helmet, and took from his
squire another spear ; " now, I shall give ye the
day's great pastime. Pass the word, Sire de
Tancarville, to every horseman 'Charge ! to the
Standard V"
The word passed, the steeds bounded, and the
whole force of William's knighthood, scouring the
plain to the rear of the Saxon vanguard, made
for the entrenchments.
At that sight, Harold, divining the object, and
seeing this new and more urgent demand on his
presence, halted the battalions over which he had
presided, and, yielding the command to Leofwine,
HAROLD. 349
once more briefly but strenuously enjoined the
troops to heed well their leaders, and on no
account to break the wedge, in the form of which
lay their whole strength, both against the cavalry
and the greater number of the foe. Then mount-
ing his horse, and attended only by Haco, he
spurred across the plain, in the opposite direction
to that taken by the Normans. In doing so, he
was forced to make a considerable circuit towards
the rear of the entrenchment, and the farm, with
its watchful groups, came in sight. He distin-
guished the garbs of the women, and Haco said to
him,
" There wait the wives, to welcome the living
victors."
" Or search their lords among the dead ! "
answered Harold. " Who, Haco, if we fall, will
search for us ? "
As the word left his lips, he saw, under a lonely
thorn -tree, and scarce out of bowshot from the
entrenchments, a woman seated. The King
looked hard at the bended, hooded form.
" Poor wretch !" he murmured, " her heart is
in the battle !" And he shouted aloud, " Farther
off ! farther off ! the war rushes hitherward I"
350 HAROLD.
At the sound of that voice the woman rose,
stretched her arms, and sprang forward. But
the Saxon chiefs had already turned their faces
towards the neighbouring ingress into the ram-
parts, and beheld not her movement, while the
tramp of rushing chargers, the shout and the roar
of clashing war, drowned the wail of her feeble
cry.
" I have heard him again, again !" murmured
the woman, " God be praised ! " and she re-seated
herself quietly under the lonely thorn.
As Harold and Haco sprang to their feet within
the entrenchments, the shout of " the King the
King ! Holy Crosse ! " came in time to rally the
force at the farther end, now undergoing the full
storm of the Norman chivalry.
The willow ramparts were already rent and
hewed beneath the hoofs of horses and the clash
of swords ; and the sharp 'points on the frontals
of the Norman destriers were already gleaming
within the entrenchments, when Harold arrived
at the brunt of action. The tide was then
turned; not one of those rash riders left the
entrenchments they had gained ; steel and horse
alike went down beneath the ponderous battle-
HAROLD. 351
axes ; and William, again foiled and baffled, drew
off his cavalry with the reluctant conviction that
those breastworks, so manned, were not to be
won by horse. Slowly the knights retreated
down the slope of the hillock, and the English,
animated by that sight, would have left their
stronghold to pursue, but for the warning cry of
Harold. The interval in the strife thus gained
was promptly and vigorously employed in repair-
ing the palisades. And this done, Harold, turn-
ing to Haco, and the thegns round him, said
joyously,
" By Heaven's help we shall yet win this day.
And know you not that it is my fortunate day the
day on which, hitherto, all hath prospered with
me, in peace and in war the day of my birth?"
" Of your birth \" echoed Haco in surprise.
" Ay did you not know it ?"
" Nay ! strange ! it is also the birthday of
Duke "William ! What would astrologers say to
the meeting of such stars ?" *
Harold's cheek paled, but his helmet concealed
* Harold's birthday was certainly the 14th of October. Accord-
ing to Mr. Roscoe, in his " Life of William the Conqueror,"
William was born also on the 14th of October.
352 HAROLD.
the paleness : his arm drooped. The strange
dream of his youth again came distinct before
him, as it had come in the hall of the Norman at
the sight of the ghastly relics ; again he saw the
shadowy hand from the cloud again heard the
voice murmuring " Lo the star that shone on
the birth of the victor;" again he heard the
words of Hilda interpreting the dream again
the chaunt which the dead or the fiend had
poured from the rigid lips of the Vala. It
boomed on his ear ; hollow as a death bell it
knelled through the roar of battle
" Never
Crown and brow shall Force dissever,
Till the dead men, unforgiving,
Loose the war-steeds on the living ;
Till a sun whose race is ending
Sees the rival stars contending,
Where the Deadmen, unforgiving,
Wheel their war-steeds round the living !"
Faded the vision, and died the chaunt, as a breath
that dims, and vanishes from, the mirror of steel.
The breath was gone the firm steel was bright
once more ; and suddenly the King was recalled
HAROLD. 353
to the sense of the present hour, by shouts and
cries, in which the yell of Norman triumph pre-
dominated, at the further end of the field. The
signal words to Fitzosborne had conveyed to
that chief the order for the mock charge on
the Saxon vanguard, to be followed by the feigned
flight : and so artfully had this stratagem been
practised, that despite all the solemn orders of
Harold, despite even the warning cry of Leofwine,
who, rash and gay hearted though he was, had yet
a captain's skill the bold English, their blood
heated by long contest and seeming victory,
could not resist pursuit. They rushed forward
impetuously, breaking the order of their hitherto
indomitable phalanx, and the more eagerly be-
cause the Normans had unwittingly taken their
way towards a part of the ground concealing
dykes and ditches, into which the English
trusted to precipitate the foe. It was as
William's knights retreated from the breast-
works that this fatal error was committed; and
pointing towards the disordered Saxons with a
wild laugh of revengeful joy, William set spurs
to his horse, and, followed by all his chivalry,
joined the cavalry of Poitou and Boulogne in
354 HAROLD.
their swoop upon the scattered array. Already
the Norman infantry had turned round already
the horses, that lay in ambush amongst the
brushwood near the dykes, had thundered forth.
The whole of the late impregnable vanguard was
broken up, divided corps from corps, hemmed
in; horse after horse charging to the rear, to
the front, to the flank, to the right, to the left.
Gurth, with the men of Surrey and Sussex had
alone kept their ground, but they were now com-
pelled to advance to the aid of their scattered
comrades ; and coming up in close order, they
not only awhile stayed the slaughter, but again
half turned the day. Knowing the country
thoroughly, Gurth lured the foe into the ditches
concealed within a hundred yards of their own
ambush, and there the havoc of the foreigners
was so great, that the hollows are said to have
been literally made level with the plain by their
corpses. Yet this combat, however fierce, and
however skill might seek to repair the former
error, could not be long maintained against
such disparity of numbers. And meanwhile,
the whole of the division under GeofFroi
Martel, and his co-captains, had by a fresh
HAROLD. 355
order of William's, occupied the space between
the entrenchments and the more distant engage-
ment; so that when Harold looked up, he saw
the foot of the hillocks so lined with steel, as
to render it hopeless that he himself could win to
the aid of his vanguard. He set his feet firmly,
looked on, and only by gesture and smothered
exclamations showed his emotions of hope and
fear. At length he cried,
" Gallant Gurth ! brave Leofwine, look to their
pennons ! right, right ; well fought, sturdy Vebba !
Ha ! they are moving this way. The wedge
cleaves on it cuts its path through the heart
of the foe." And indeed, now drawing off the
shattered remains of their countrymen, still dis-
united, but still each section shaping itself wedge-
like, with their shields over their head, through the
tempest of missiles, against the rush of the steeds,
on came the English, here and there, through
the plains, up the slopes, towards the entrench-
ment, in the teeth of the formidable array of
Martel, and harassed behind by hosts that seemed
numberless. The King could restrain himself no
longer. He selected five hundred of his bravest
and most practised veterans, yet comparatively
356 HAROLD.
fresh, and commanding the rest to stay firm, de-
scended the hills, and charged unexpectedly into
the rear of the mingled Normans and Bretons.
This sortie, well timed though desperate, served
to cover and favour the retreat of the straggling
Saxons. Many, indeed, were cut off, but Gurth,
Leofwine, and Vebba hewed the way for their fol-
lowers to the side of Harold, and entered the en-
trenchments close followed by the nearer foe, who
were againrepulsed amidst the shouts of the English.
But, alas ! small indeed the band thus saved,
and hopeless the thought that the small detach-
ments of English still surviving and scattered over
the plain, would ever win to their aid.
Yet in these scattered remnants were, perhaps,
almost the only men who, availing themselves
of their acquaintance with the country, and
despairing of victory, escaped by flight from the
Field of SANGUELAC. Nevertheless, within the
entrenchments not a man had lost heart; the
day was already far advanced, no impression
had been yet made on the outworks, the
position seemed as impregnable as a fortress
of stone; and, truth to say, even the bravest
Normans were disheartened, when they looked to
HAROLD. 357
that eminence which had foiled the charge of
William himself. The Duke, in the recent melee,
had received more than one wound, his third
horse that day had been slain under him. The
slaughter among the knights and nobles had
been immense, for they had exposed their persons
with the most desperate valour. And William,
after surveying the rout of nearly one half of
the English army, heard everywhere, to his wrath
and his shame, murmurs of discontent and dismay
at the prospect of scaling the heights, in which
the gallant remnant had found their refuge. At
this critical juncture, Odo of Bayeux, who had
hitherto remained in the rear,* with the crowds
of monks that accompanied the armament, rode
into the full field, where all the hosts were
re-forming their lines. He was in complete
mail, but a white surplice was drawn over
the steel, his head was bare, and in his right
hand he bore the crozier. A formidable club
swung by a leathern noose from his wrist, to be
used only for self-defence: the canons forbade
the priest to strike merely in assault. Behind
the milk-white steed of Odo came the whole
* WILLIAM PICT.
358 HAROLD.
body of reserve, fresh and unbreathed, free from
the terrors of their comrades, and strung into
proud wrath at the delay of the Norman con-
quest.
" How now how now!" cried the prelate ; "do
ye flag ? do ye falter when the sheaves are down,
and ye have but to gather up the harvest ? How
now, sons of the Church ! warriors of the Cross !
avengers of the Saints ! Desert your Count, if
ye please; but shrink not back from a Lord
mightier than man. Lo, I come forth, to ride
side by side with my brother, bare headed, the
crozier in my hand. He who fails his liege is but
a coward he who fails the Church is apostate ! "
The fierce shout of the reserve closed this
harangue, and the words of the prelate, as well as
the physical aid he brought to back them, re-
nerved the army. And now the whole of Wil-
liam's mighty host, covering the field, till its lines
seemed to blend with the grey horizon, came
on serried, steadied, orderly to all sides of the
entrenchment. Aware of the inutility of his
horse, till the breastworks were cleared, William
placed in the van all his heavy armed foot,
spearmen, and archers, to open the way through
HAROLD. 359
the palisades, the sorties from which had now
been carefully closed.
As they came up the hills, Harold turned to
Haco and said, "Where is thy battle-axe?"
" Harold/' answered Haco with more than his
usual tone of sombre sadness, " I desire now to
be thy shield-bearer, for thou must use thine axe
with both hands while the day lasts, and thy shield
is useless. Wherefore thou strike, and I will
shield thee."
" Thou lovest me, then, son of Sweyn ; I have
sometimes doubted it."
" I love thee as the best part of my life, and
with thy life ceases mine : it is my heart that
my shield guards when it covers the breast of
Harold."
" I would bid thee live, poor youth," whispered
Harold; "but what were life if this day were
lost ? Happy, then, will be those who die !"
Scarce had the words left his lips ere he
sprang to the breastworks, and with a sudden
sweep of his axe, down dropped a helm that
peered above them. But helm after helm succeeds.
Now they come on, swarm upon swarm, as wolves
on a traveller, as bears round a bark. Countless,
360 HAROLD.
amidst their carnage, on they come ! The arrows
of the Norman blacken the air : with deadly pre-
cision, to each arm, each limb, each front exposed
above the bulwarks whirrs the shaft. They clamber
the palisades, the foremost fall dead under the
Saxon axe ; new thousands rush on : vain is the
might of Harold, vain had a Harold's might been
in every Saxon there ! The first row of breast-
works is forced it is trampled, hewed, crushed
down, cumbered with the dead. " Ha Rou ! Ha
Rou ! Notre Dame ! Notre Dame ! " sounds
joyous and shrill, the chargers snort and leap,
and charge into the circle. High wheels in air
the great mace of William ; bright by his side
flashes the crozier of the Church.
" On, Normans ! Earldom and land ! " cries
the Duke.
" On, Sons of the Church ! Salvation and
heaven !" shouts the voice of Odo.
The first breastwork down the Saxons yielding
inch by inch, foot by foot, are pressed, crushed
back, into the second enclosure. The same rush,
and swarm, and fight, and cry, and roar : The
second gives way. And now in the centre of the
third lo, before the eyes of the Normans, towers
HAROLD. 361
proudly aloft, and shines in the rays of the
westering sun, broidered with gold, and, blazing
with mystic gems, the standard of England's
King ! And there, are gathered the reserve of the
English host; there, the heroes who had never
yet known defeat unwearied they by the battle
vigorous, high-hearted still ; and round them the
breastworks were thicker, and stronger, and higher,
and fastened by chains to pillars of wood and staves
of iron, with the waggons and carts of the bag-
gage, and piled logs of timber barricades at which
even William paused aghast, and Odo stifled an
exclamation that became not a priestly lip.
Before that standard, in the front of the men,
stood Gurth, and Leofwine, and Haco, and
Harold, the last leaning for rest upon his axe, for
he was sorely wounded in many places, and the
blood oozed through the links of his mail.
Live, Harold; live yet, and Saxon England
shall not die !
The English archers had at no time been
numerous ; most of them had served with the
vanguard, and the shafts of those within the
ramparts were spent ; so that the foe had time to
pause and to breathe. The Norman arrows
VOL. III. R
362 HAROLD.
meanwhile flew fast and thick, but William noted
to his grief that they struck against the tall breast-
works and barricades, and so failed in the
slaughter they should inflict.
He mused a moment, and sent one of his
knights to call to him three of the chiefs of
the archers. They were soon at the side of his
destrier.
" See ye not, maladroit*," said the Duke, " that
your shafts and bolts fall harmless on those ozier
walls. Shoot in the air ; let the arrow fall per-
pendicular on those within fall as the vengeance
of the saints falls direct from heaven ! Give me
thy bow, Archer, thus." He drew the bow as he
sate on his steed, the arrow flashed up, and
descended in the heart of the reserve, within a
few feet of the standard.
" So ; that standard be your mark," said the
Duke, giving back the bow.
The archers withdrew. The order circulated
through their bands, and in a few moments more
down came the iron rain. It took the English host
as by surprise, piercing hide cap, and even iron
helm ; and in the very surprise that made them
instinctively look up death came.
HAROLD. 363
A dull groan as from many hearts boomed from
the entrenchments on the Norman ear.
" Now," said William, " they must either use
their shields to guard their heads and their axes
are useless or while they smite with the axe
they fall by the shaft. On now to the ram-
parts. I see my crown already resting on
yonder standard ! "
Yet despite all, the English bear up ; the thick-
ness of the palisades, the comparative small-
ness of the last enclosure, more easily therefore
manned and maintained by their small force,
defy other weapons than those of the bow. Every
Norman who attempts to scale the breastwork is
slain on the instant, and his body cast forth
under the hoofs of the baffled steeds. The sun
sinks near and nearer towards the red horizon.
" Courage ! " cries the voice of Harold, " hold
but till nightfall, and ye are saved. Courage,
and freedom."
" Harold and Holy Crosse !" is the answer.
Still foiled, William again resolves to hazard
his fatal stratagem. He marked that quarter of
the enclosure which was most remote from the
chief point of attack most remote from the
E2
364 HAROLD.
provident watch of Harold, whose cheering
voice, ever and anon, he recognised amidst the
hurtling clamour. In this quarter the palisades
were the weakest, and the ground the least
elevated ; but it was guarded by men on whose
skill with axe and shield Harold placed the
firmest reliance the Anglo-Danes of his old
East-Anglian earldom. Thither, then, the
Duke advanced a chosen column of his heavy
armed foot, tutored especially by himself in the
rehearsals of his favourite ruse, and accompanied
by a band of archers; (while at the same time,
he himself, with his brother Odo, headed a con-
siderable company of knights under the son of
the great Roger de Beaumont, to gain the con-
tiguous level heights on which now stretches the
little town of " Battle ;" there to watch and to
aid the manoeuvre.) The foot column advanced to
the appointed spot, and after a short, close, and
terrible conflict, succeeded in making a wide
breach in the breastworks. But that temporary
success only animated yet more the exertions
of the beleaguered defenders, and swarming round
the breach, and pouring through it, line after line
of the foe drop beneath their axes. The column
HAROLD. 365
of the heavy armed Normans fall back, down
the slopes they give way they turn in disorder
they retreat they fly ; but the archers stand
firm, midway on the descent those archers seem
an easy prey to the English the temptation is
irresistible. Long galled and harassed, and
maddened by the shafts, the Anglo-Danes rush
forth at the heels of the Norman swordsmen, and,
sweeping down to exterminate the archers, the
breach that they leave gapes wide.
" Forward," cries William, and he gallops
towards the breach.
" Forward," cries Odo, " I see the hands of the
holy saints in the air ! Forward ! it is the Dead
that wheel our war-steeds round the living !"
On rush the Norman knights. But Harold is
already in the breach, rallying around him hearts
eager to replace the shattered breastworks.
" Close shields ! Hold fast ! " shouts his kingly
voice.
Before him were the steeds of Bruse and Grant-
mesnil. At his breast their spears ; Haco holds
over the breast the shield. Swinging aloft
with both hands his axe, the spear of Grant-
mesnil is shivered in twain by the King's
366 HAROLD.
stroke. Cloven to the skull rolls the steed of
Bruse. Knight and steed roll on the bloody sward.
But a blow from the sword of De Lacy has broken
down the guardian shield of Haco. The son of
Sweyn is stricken to his knee. With lifted blades
and whirling maces the Norman knights charge
through the breach.
" Look up, look up, and guard thy head," cries
the fatal voice of Haco to the King.
At that cry the King raises his flashing eyes.
Why halts his stride ? Why drops the axe from
his hand ? As he raised his head, down came the
hissing death shaft. It smote the lifted face; it
crushed into the dauntless eyeball. He reeled,
he staggered, he fell back several yards, at the
foot of his gorgeous standard. With desperate
hand he broke the head of the shaft, and left
the barb, quivering in the anguish.
Gurth knelt over him.
''Fight on," gasped the King, "conceal my
death ! Holy Crosse ! England to the rescue !
woe woe !"
Rallying himself a moment, he sprang to his feet,
clenched his right hand, and fell once more, a
corpse.
HAROLD. 367
At the same moment a simultaneous rush of
horsemen towards the standard bore back a line
of Saxons, and covered the body of the King with
heaps of the slain.
His helmet cloven in two, his face all streaming
with blood, but still calm in its ghastly hues,
amidst the foremost of those slain, fell the fated
Haco. He fell with his head on the breast of
Harold, kissed the bloody cheek with bloody lips,
groaned and died.
Inspired by despair with superhuman strength,
Gurth, striding over the corpses of his kins-
men, opposed himself singly to the knights ;
and the entire strength of the English remnant,
coming round him at the menaced danger to the
standard, once more drove off the assailants.
But now all the enclosure was filled with the
foe, the whole space seemed gay in the darkening
air with banderols and banners. High through
all, rose the club of the Conqueror; high, through
all, shone the crozier of the Churchman. Not one
Englishman fled; all now centering round the
standard, they fell, slaughtering if slaughtered.
Man by man, under the charmed banner, fell the
lithsmen of Hilda. Then died the faithful Sexwolf.
368 HAROLD.
Then died the gallant Godrith, redeeming, in the
death of many a Norman, his young fantastic love
of the Norman manners. Then died, last of such
of the Kent-men as had won retreat from their
scattered vanguard into the circle of closing
slaughter, the English-hearted Vebha.
Even still in that age, when the Teuton had yet
in his veins the blood of Odin, the demi-god,
even still one man could delay the might of
numbers. Through the crowd, the Normans
beheld with admiring awe, here, in the front of
their horse, a single warrior, before whose axe
spear shivered, helm drooped ; there, close by the
standard, standing breast high among the slain,
one still more formidable, and even amidst ruin
unvanquished. The first fell at length under the
mace of Roger de Montgommeri. So, unknown to
the Norman poet (who hath preserved in his verse
the deeds but not the name), fell, laughing in
death, young Leofwine. Still by the enchanted
standard towers the other; still the enchanted
standard waves aloft, with its brave ensign of the
solitary " Fighting Man" girded by the gems that
had flashed in the crown of Odin.
" Thine be the honour of lowering that haughty
HAROLD. 369
flag," cried William,, turning to one of his favourite
and most famous knights, Robert de Tessin.
Overjoyed, the knight rushed forth, to fall by
the axe of that stubborn defender.
" Sorcery/' cried Fitzosborne, " sorcery. This
is no man, but fiend."
" Spare him, spare the brave," cried in a breath
Bruse, D'Aincourt and De Graville.
William turned round in wrath at the cry of
mercy, and, spurring over all the corpses, with
the sacred banner borne by Tonstain close behind
him, so that it shadowed his helmet, he came
to the foot of the standard, and for one moment
there was single battle between the Knight-Duke
and the Saxon hero. Nor, even then, conquered
by the Norman sword, but exhausted by a hun-
dred wounds, that brave chief fell,' 55 ' and the fal-
chion vainly pierced him, falling. So, last man at
the standard, died Gurth.
* Thus WAGE,
" Guert (Gurth) vit Engleiz amenuisier,
Vi K'il n'i out nul recovrier," &c.
" Gurth saw the English diminish, and that there was no hope
to retrieve the day ; the Duke pushed forth with such force, that
he reached him, and struck him with great violence, (par grant
air.) I know not if he died by the stroke, but it is said that it
laid him low."
R 3
3 70 HAROLD.
The sun had set, the first star was in heaven,
the " Fighting Man" was laid low, and on that
spot where now, all forlorn and shattered, amidst
stagnant water, stands the altar-stone of Battle
Abbey, rose the glittering dragon that surmounted
the consecrated banner of the Norman victor.
CHAPTER IX.
CLOSE by his banner, amidst the piles of the
dead, "William the Conqueror pitched his pavilion,
and sate at meat. And over all the plain, far and
near, torches were moving like meteors on a
marsh; for the Duke had permitted the Saxon
women to search for the bodies of their lords.
And as he sate, and talked, and laughed, there
entered the tent two humble monks : their lowly
mien, their dejected faces, their homely serge, in
mournful contrast to the joy and the splendour of
the Victory-Feast.
They came to the Conqueror, and knelt.
" Rise up, sous of the Church," said William,
mildly, " for sons of the Church are we ! Deem
not that we shall invade the rights of the religion
which we have come to avenge. Nay, on this
spot we have already sworn to build an abbey
372 HAROLD.
that shall be the proudest in the land, and where
masses shall be sung evermore for the repose of
the brave Normans who fell in this field, and for
mine and my consort's soul."
" Doubtless/' said Odo, sneering, " the holy
men have heard already of this pious intent,
and come to pray for cells in the future
abbey."
" Not so," said Osgood mournfully, and in
barbarous Norman ; " we have our own beloved
convent at Waltham, endowed by the prince whom
thine arms have defeated. We come to ask but to
bury in our sacred cloisters the corpse of him so
lately king over all England our benefactor,
Harold."
The Duke's brow fell.
" And see," said Ailred, eagerly, as he drew
out a leathern pouch, " we have brought with us
all the gold that our poor crypts contained, for
we misdoubted this day," and he poured out the
glittering pieces at the Conqueror's feet.
" No !" said William, fiercely, " we take no
gold for n traitor's body ; no, not if Githa, the
usurper's mother, offered us its weight in the
shining metal ; unburied be the Accursed of the
HAROLD. 373
Church, and let the birds of prey feed their
young with his carcase !"
Two murmurs, distinct in tone and in meaning,
were heard in that assembly ; the one of approval
from fierce mercenaries, insolent with triumph;
the other of generous discontent and indignant
amaze, from the large majority of Norman nobles.
But William's brow was still dark, and his eye
still stern ; for his policy confirmed his passions ;
and it was only by stigmatizing, as dishonoured
and accursed, the memory and cause of the dead
King, that he could justify the sweeping spoliation
of those who had fought against himself, and
confiscate the lands to which his own Quens and
warriors looked for their reward.
The murmurs had just died into a thrilling
hush, when a woman, who had followed the monks
unperceived and unheeded, passed, with a swift
and noiseless step to the Duke's footstool; and,
without bending knee to the ground, said, in a
voice, which though low, was heard by all,
" Norman, in the name of the women of Eng-
land, I tell thee that thou darest not do this wrong
to the hero who died in defence of their hearths
and their children \"
374 HAROLD.
Before she spoke she had thrown back her
hood ; her hair dishevelled, fell over her shoulders,
glittering like gold, in the blaze of the banquet-
lights; and that wondrous beauty, without parallel
amidst the dames of England, shone like the
vision of an accusing angel, on the eyes of the
startled Duke, and the breathless knights. But
twice in her life Edith beheld that awful man.
Once, when roused from her reverie of innocent
love by the holiday pomp of his trumps and
banners, the childlike maid stood at the foot of
the grassy knoll ; and once again, when in the hour
of his triumph, and amidst the wrecks of England
on the field of Sanguelac, with a soul surviving
the crushed and broken heart, the faith of the
lofty woman defended the Hero Dead.
There, with knee unbent, and form unquailing,
with marble cheek, and haughty eye, she faced
the Conqueror ; and, as she ceased, his noble
barons broke into bold applause.
" Who art thou ! " said William, if not daunted
at least amazed. " Methinks I have seen thy face
before ; thou art not Harold's wife or sister ? "
" Dread lord," said Osgood ; " she was the
betrothed of Harold ; but, as within the degrees
HAROLD. 375
of kin, the Church forbade their union, and they
obeyed the Church."
Out from the banquet-throng stepped Mallet
de Graville. " O my liege," said he, " thou hast
promised me lands and earldom ; instead of these
gifts undeserved, bestow on me the right to bury
nrtu to honour the remains of Harold; to-day
I took from him my life, let me give all I can in
return a grave ! "
William paused, but the sentiment of the
assembly, so clearly pronounced, and it may be
his own better nature which, ere polluted by
plotting craft, and hardened by despotic ire, was
magnanimous and heroic, moved and won him.
" Lady," said he gently, " thou appealest not
in vain to Norman knighthood: thy rebuke was
just, and I repent me of a hasty impulse. Mallet
de Graville, thy prayer is granted ; to thy choice
be consigned the place of burial, to thy care the
funeral rites of him whose soul hath passed out
of human judgment."
The feast was over; William the Conqueror
slept on his couch, and round him slumbered his
Norman knights, dreaming of baronies to come ;
376 HAROLD.
and still the torches moved dismally to and fro
the waste of death, and through the hush of night
was heard near and far the wail of women.
Accompanied by the brothers of Waltham, and
attended by link-bearers, Mallet de Graville was
yet engaged in the search for the royal dead and
the search was vain. Deeper and stiller, the
autumnal moon rose to its melancholy noon, and
lent its ghastly aid to the glare of the redder
lights. But, on leaving the pavilion, they had
missed Edith ; she had gone from them alone,
and was lost in that dreadful wilderness. And
Ailred said despondingly
" Perchance we may already have seen the
corpse we search for, and not recognised it ; for
the face may be mutilated with wounds. And
therefore it is that Saxon wives and mothers haunt
our battle-fields, discovering those they search by
signs not known without the household/'*
" Ay," said the Norman, " I comprehend thee,
The suggestions implied in the text, will probably be ad-
mitted as correct ; when we read in the Saxon annals of the
recognition of the dead, by peculiar marks on their bodies ; the
obvious, or at least the most natural explanation of those signs,
is to be found in the habit of puncturing the skin, mentioned
by the Malmesbary chronicler.
HAROLD, 377
by the letter or device, in which, according to
your customs, your warriors impress on their own
forms some token of affection, or some fancied
charm against ill."
" It is so," answered the monk ; " wherefore I
grieve that we have lost the guidance of the maid."
While thus conversing they had retraced their
steps, almost in despair, towards the Duke's
pavilion.
" See," said De Graville, " how near yon lonely
woman hath come to the tent of the Duke yea,
to the foot of the holy gonfanon, which sup-
planted ' the Fighting Man! ' Pardex, my heart
bleeds to see her striving to lift up the heavy dead !"
The monks neared the spot, and Osgood ex-
claimed in a voice almost joyful,
" It is Edith the Fair ! This way, the torches !
hither, quick !"
The corpses had been flung in irreverent haste
from either side of the gonfanon, to make room
for the banner of the conquest, and the pavilion
of the feast. Huddled together, they lay in that
holy bed. And the woman silently, and by the
help of no light save the moon, was intent on
her search. She waived her hand impatiently as
378 HAROLD.
they approached, as if jealous of the dead : but
as she had not sought, so neither did she oppose,
their aid. Moaning low to herself, she desisted
from, her task, and knelt watching them, and
shaking her head mournfully, as they removed
helm after helm, and lowered the torches upon
stern and livid brows. At length the lights fell
red and full on the ghastly face of Haco proud
and sad as in life.
De Graville uttered an exclamation : " The
King's nephew : be sure the King is near ! "
A shudder went over the woman's form, and
the moaning ceased.
They unhelmed another corpse ; and the monks
and the knight, after one glance, turned away
sickened and awe-stricken at the sight : for the
face was all defeatured and mangled with wounds ;
and nought could they recognise save the ravaged
majesty of what had been man. But at the sight
of that face a wild shriek broke from Edith's
heart.
She started to her feet put aside the monks
with a wild and angry gesture, and bending over
the face, sought with her long hair -to wipe from
it the clotted blood ; then with convulsive fingers,
HAROLD. 379
she strove to loosen the buckler of the breast-
mail. The knight knelt to assist her. "No, no/'
she gasped out. " He is mine mine now !"
Her hands bled as the mail gave way to her
efforts; the tunic beneath was all dabbled with
blood. She rent the folds, and on the breast,
just above the silenced heart, were punctured in
the old Saxon letters, the word " EDITH ;" and
just below, in characters more fresh, the word
" ENGLAND."
" See, see ! " she cried in piercing accents ; and,
clasping the dead in her arms, she kissed the lips,
and called aloud, in words of the tenderest en-
dearments, as if she addressed the living. All
there knew then that the search was ended ; all
knew that the eyes of love had recognised the
dead.
" Wed, wed," murmured the betrothed ; " wed
at last ! O Harold, Harold ! the Fates were true
and kind," and laying her head gently on the
breast of the dead, she smiled and died.
At the east end of the choir in the Abbey of
Waltham, was long shown the tomb of the Last
Saxon King, inscribed with the touching words
380 1IAROLD.
" Harold Infelix." But not under that stone,
according to the chronicler who should best
know the truth,* mouldered the dust of him in
whose grave was buried an epoch in human
annals.
" Let his corpse," said William the Norman,
"let his corpse guard the coasts, which his
life madly defended. Let the seas wail his dirge,
and girdle his grave ; and his spirit protect the
land which hath passed to the Norman's sway."
And Mallet de Graville assented to the word
of his chief, for his knightly heart turned into
honour the latent taunt ; and well he knew, that
Harold could have chosen no burial spot so
worthy his English spirit and his Roman end.
The tomb at Waltham would have excluded
the faithful ashes of the betrothed, whose heart
had broken on the bosom she had found ; more
gentle was the grave in the temple of Heaven,
and hallowed by the bridal death-dirge of the
everlasting sea.
So, in that sentiment of poetry and love, which
made half the religion of a Norman knight,
* The contemporary Norman chronicler, William of Poiticrg.
See Note (C) at the end of the volume.
HAROLD. 381
Mallet de Graville suffered death to unite those
whom life had divided. In the holy burial-ground
that encircled a small Saxon chapel, on the shore,
and near the spot, on which William had leapt to
land, one grave received the betrothed; and the
tomb of Waltham only honoured an empty name.*
Eight centuries have rolled away, and where is
the Norman now ? or where is not the Saxon ?
The little urn that sufficed for the mighty lordf
is despoiled of his very dust; but the tombless
shade of the kingly freeman still guards the
coasts, and rests upon the seas. In many a noise-
less field, with Thoughts for Armies, your relics, O
Saxon Heroes, have won back the victory from the
bones of the Norman saints ; and whenever, with
fairer fates, Freedom opposes Force, and Justice,
redeeming the old defeat, smites down the armed
Frauds that would consecrate the wrong, smile,
O soul of our Saxon Harold, smile, appeased, on
"the Saxon's land !
* See Note (C) at the end of the volume.
f " Eex magnus parva jacet hie Gulielmus in urn&.
" Sufficit et magno parva Domus Domino."
From William the Conqueror's epitaph, (ap. Gemiticen.) His
bones are said to have been disinterred some centuries after
his death.
NOTES.
NOTES.
NOTE (A), page 154.
HAROLD'S ACCESSION.
THERE are, as is well known, two accounts as to
Edward the Confessor's death-bed disposition of the Eng-
lish crown. The Norman chroniclers affirm, first, that
Edward promised William the crown during his exile in
Normandy ; secondly, that Si ward, Earl of Northumbria,
Godwin, and Leofric had taken oath, " serment de la main,"
to receive him as Seigneur after Edward's death, and that
the hostages, Wolnoth and Haco, were given to the Duke
in pledge of that oath ;* thirdly, that Edward left him the
crown by will.
Let us see what probability there is of truth in these
three assertions.
First, Edward promised William the crown when in
Normandy.
This seems probable enough, and it is corroborated in-
directly by the Saxon chroniclers, when they unite in
relating Edward's warnings to Harold against his visit to
the Norman court. Edward might well be aware of Wil-
liam's designs on the crown (though in those warnings
he refrains from mentioning them) might remember the
* WILLIAM OP POITIERS.
VOL. III. S
386 NOTES.
authority given to those designs by his own early promise,
and know the secret purpose for which the hgstages were
retained by William, and the advantages he would seek to
gain from having Harold himself in his power. But this
promise in itself was clearly not binding on the English
people, nor on any one but Edward, who, without the
sanction of the Witan, could not fulfil it. And that William
himself could not have attached great importance to it
during Edward's life, is clear, because, if he had, the time
to urge it was when Edward sent into Germany for the
Atheling, as the heir presumptive of the throne. This was
a virtual annihilation of the promise ; but William took no
step to urge it, made no complaint and no remonstance.
Secondly, That Godwin, Siward, and Leofric, had taken
oaths of fealty to William.
This appears a fable wholly without foundation. When
could those oath? have been pledged I Certainly not after
Harold's visit to William, for they were then all dead.
At the accession of Edward? This is obviously contra-
dicted by the stipulation which Godwin and the chiefs of
the Witan exacted, that Edward should not come accom-
panied by Norman supporters by the evident jealousy of
the Normans entertained by them, as by the whole English
people, who regarded the alliance of Ethelred with the
Norman Emma as the cause of the greatest calamities
and by the marriage of Edward himself with Godwin's
daughter, a marriage which that Earl might naturally pre-
sume would give legitimate heirs to the throne. In the
interval between Edward's accession and Godwin's out-
lawry ? No ; for all the English chronicles, and, indeed,
the Norman, concur in representing the ill-will borne by
Godwin and his House to the Norman favourites, whom,
if they could have anticipated William's accession, or w ere
NOTES. 387
in any way bound to William, they would have naturally
conciliated. But Godwin's outlawry is the result of the
breach between him and the foreigners. In William's
visit to Edward ? No ; for that took place when Godwin
was an exile ; and even the writers who assert Edward's
early promise to William, declare that nothing was then
said as to the succession to the throne. To Godwin's
return from outlawry the Norman chroniclers seem to
refer the date of this pretended oath, by the assertion that
the hostages were given in pledge of it. This is the most
monstrous supposition of all ; for Godwin's return is fol-
lowed by the banishment of the Norman favourites by
the utter downfal of the Norman party in England by the
decree of the Witan, that all the troubles in England had
come from the Normans by the triumphant ascendency
of Godwin's House. And is it credible for a moment, that
the great English Earl could then have agreed to a pledge
to transfer the kingdom to the very party he had expelled,
and expose himself and his party to the vengeance of a
foe he had thoroughly crushed for the time, and whom,
without any motive or object, he himself agreed to restore
to power for his own probable perdition ? When examined,
this assertion falls to the ground from other causes. It is
not among the arguments that William uses in his em-
bassies to Harold ; it rests mainly upon the authority of
William of Poitiers, who, though a contemporary, and a
good authority on some points purely Norman, is grossly
ignorant as to the most accredited and acknowledged facts,
in all that relate to the English. Even with regard to the
hostages, he makes the most extraordinary blunders. He
says they were sent by Edward, with the consent of his
nobles, accompanied by Robert, Archbishop of Canterbury.
Now Robert, Archbishop of Canterbury, had fled from
388 NOTES.
England as fast as he could fly on the return of Godwin ;
and arrived in Normandy, half drowned, before the hos-
tages were sent, or even before the Witan which recon-
ciled Edward and Godwin had assembled. He says that
William restored to Harold " his young brother ;" whereas
it was Haco, the nephew, who was restored; we know,
by Norman as well as Saxon chroniclers, that Wolnoth, the
brother, was not released till after the Conqueror's death,
(he was re-imprisoned by Rufus ;) and his partiality may be
judged by the assertions, first, that " William gave nothing
to a Norman that was, unjustly taken from an Englishman ;"
and secondly, that Odo, whose horrible oppressions re-
volted even William himself, " never had an equal for
justice, and that all the English obeyed him willingly."
We may, therefore, dismiss this assertion as utterly
groundless, on its own merits, without directly citing
against it the Saxon authorities.
Thirdly, That Edward left William the crown by will.
On this assertion alone, of the three, the Norman Con-
queror himself seems to have rested a positive claim.*
But if so, where was the will? Why was it never pro-
duced or producible ? If destroyed, where were the wit-
nesses ? why were they not cited ? The testamentary
dispositions of an Anglo-Saxon king were always respected,
* He is considered to refer to such bequest in one of his charters :
" Devicto Haroldo rege cum suis complicibus qui michi regnum prudentia
Domini destinatum, et beneficio concessionis Domini et cognati mei gloriosi
regis Edward! concessum conati sunt auferre." FORESTINA, A. 3.
But William's word is certainly not to be taken, for he never scrupled to
break it ; and even in these words, he does not state that it was left him by
Edward's will, but destined and given to him words founded, perhaps,
solely on the promise referred to, before Edward came to the throne, corro-
borated by some messages in the earlier years of his reign, through the
Norman Archbishop of Canterbury, who seems to have been a notable in-
triguer to that end.
NOTES. 389
and went far towards the succession. But it was abso-
lutely necessary to prove them before the Witan.* An
oral act of this kind, in the words of the dying Sovereign,
would be legal, but they must be confirmed by those who
heard them. Why, when William was master of England,
and acknowledged by a National Assembly convened in
London, and when all who heard the dying King would
have been naturally disposed to give every evidence in
William's favour, not only to natter the new Sovereign,
but to soothe the national pride, and justify the Norman
succession by a more popular plea than conquest, why
were no witnesses summoned to prove the bequest ?
Aired, Stigand, and the Abbot of Westminster, must have
been present at the death-bed of the King, and these priests
concurred in submission to William. If they had any
testimony as to Edward's bequest in his favour, would they
not have been too glad to give it, in justification of them-
selves, in compliment to William, in duty to the people, in
vindication of law against force ? But no such attempt at
proof was ventured upon.
Against these, the mere assertion of William, and the
authority of Normans who could know nothing of the
truth of the matter, while they had every interest to mis-
represent the facts we have the positive assurances of
the best possible authorities. The Saxon Chronicle (worth
all the other annalists put together), says expressly, that
Edward left the crown to Harold :
" The sage, ne'ertheless,
The realm committed
To a highly-born man;
Harold's self,
The noble Earl.
PALGRAVE Commonwealth, 560.
s 3
390 NOTES.
Ho in all time
Obeyed faithfully
His rightful lord,
By words and deeds ;
Nor aught neglected
Which needful was
To his sovereign king."
Florence of Worcester, the next best authority, (valuable
from supplying omissions in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle,)
says expressly that the King chose Harold for his successor
before his decease,* that he was elected by the chief men
of all England, and consecrated by Aired. Hoveden,
Simon (Dunelm.), the Beverley chronicler, confirm these
authorities as to Edward's choice of Harold as his suc-
cessor. William of Malmesbury, who is not partial to
Harold, writing in the reign of Henry the First, has doubts
himself as to Edward's bequest, (though grounded on a
very bad argument, viz. " the improbability that Edward
would leave his crown to a man of whose power he had
always been jealous ;" there is no proof that Edward had
been jealous of Harold's power he had been of Godwin's);
but Malmesbury gives us a more valuable authority than
his own, in the concurrent opinion of his time, for he
deposes that " the English say, the diadem was granted
him (Harold) by the King."
These evidences are, to say the least, infinitely more
worthy of historical credence than the one or two English
chroniclers, of little comparative estimation, (such as
Wike), and the prejudiced and ignorant Norman chroni-
clers, f who depose on behalf of William. I assume, there-
* " Quo tumulato, subregulus Haroldus Godwin! Ducis films, quern rex
ante suam decessionem regni successorem elegerat, a totius Angliae prima-
tibus, ad regale culmen electus, die eodem ab Aldredo Eboracensi Archi-
episcopo in regem est honorifice consecratus." FLOR. Wig.
t Some of these Norman chroniclers tell an ..absurd story of Harold's
seizing the crown from the hand of the Bishop, and putting it himself on bis
NOTES. 391
fore, that Edward left the crown to Harold ; of Harold's
better claim in the election of the Witan, there is no
doubt. But Sir F. Palgrave starts the notion that, " ad-
mitting that the prelates, earls, aldermen, and thanes of
Wessex and East-Anglia had sanctioned the accession of
Harold, their decision could not have been obligatory on
the other kingdoms (provinces) ; and the very short time
elapsing between the death of Edward and the recognition
of Harold, utterly precludes the supposition that their
consent was even asked." This great writer must permit
me, with all reverence, to suggest that he has, I think,
forgot the fact, that just prior to Edward's death, an
assembly, fully as numerous as ever met in any national
Witan, had been convened to attend the consecration of
the new abbey and church of Westminster, which Edward
considered the great work of his life : that assembly would
certainly not have dispersed during a period so short and
anxious as the mortal illness of the King, which appears to
have prevented his attending the ceremony in person, and
which ended in his death a very few days after the conse-
cration. So that during the interval, which appears to
have been at most about a week, between Edward's death
and Harold's coronation,* the unusually large concourse of
prelates and nobles from all parts of the kingdom assem-
bled in London and Westminster, would have furnished
the numbers requisite to give weight and sanction to the
head. The Bayeux Tapestry, which is William's most connected apology for
his claim, shows no such violence; but Harold is represented as crowned
very peaceably. With more art, (as I have observed elsewhere,) the Tapestry
represents Stigand as crowning him instead of Aired ; Stigand being at that
time under the Pope's interdict.
* Edward died Jan. 5th. Harold's coronation is said to have taken place
Jan. the 12th ; but. there is no very satisfactory evidence as to the precise
day ; indeed some writers would imply that he was crowned the day after
Edward's death, which is scarcely possible.
392 NOTES.
Witan. And had it not been so, the Saxon chroniclers,
and still more the Norman, would scarcely have omitted
some remark in qualification of the election. But not a
word is said as to any inadequate number in the Witan.
And as for the two great principalities of Northumbria and
Mercia, Harold's recent marriage with the sister of their
earls might naturally tend to secure their allegiance.
Nor is it to be forgotten that a very numeroiis Witan
had assembled at Oxford a few months before, to adjudge
the rival claims of Tostig and Morcar ; the decision of the
Witan proves the conciliation between Harold's party and
that of the young earls ratified by the marriage with
Aldyth. And he who has practically engaged in the con-
tests and cabals of party, will allow the probability, adopted
as fact in the romance, that, considering Edward's years
and infirm health, and the urgent necessity of determining
beforehand the claims to the succession some actual, if
secret understanding was then come to by the leading chiefs.
It is a common error in history to regard as sudden, that
which in the nature of affairs never can be sudden. All
that paved Harold's way to the throne must have been
silently settled long before the day in which the Witan
elected him unanimi omnium consensu*
With the views to which my examination of the records
of the time have led me in favour of Harold, I cannot but
think that Sir F. Palgrave,' in his admirable History of
Anglo-Saxon England, does scanty justice to the Last of its
kings ; and that his peculiar political and constitutional
theories, and his attachment to the principle of hereditary
succession, which make him consider that Harold " had no
clear title to the crown any way," tincture with something
like the prejudice of party his estimate of Harold's charac-
Fit. Harold. Chron. Aug. Norm.
NOTES. 393
ter and pretensions. My profound admiration for Sir F.
Palgrave's learning and judgment, would not permit me to
make this remark without carefully considering and re-
weighing all the contending authorities on which he himself
relies. And I own that, of all modern historians, Thierry
seems to me to have given the most just idea of the great
actors in the tragedy of the Norman invasion, though I
incline to believe that he has overrated the oppressive
influence of the Norman dynasty in which the tragedy
closed.
NOTE (B), page 186.
PHYSICAL PECULIARITIES OF THE SCANDINAVIANS.
" IT is a singular circumstance, that in almost all the
swords of those ages to be found in the collection of
weapons in the Antiquarian Museum at Copenhagen, the
handles indicate a size of hand very much smaller than the
hands of modern people of any class or rank. No modern
dandy, with the most delicate hands, would find room for
his hand to grasp or wield with ease some of the swords
of these Northmen."*
This peculiarity is by some scholars adduced, not with-
out reason, as an argument for the Eastern origin of the
Scandinavian. Nor was it uncommon for the Asiatic
Scythians, and indeed many of the early warlike tribes
fluctuating between the east and west of Europe, to be
distinguished by the blue eyes and yellow hair of the
north. The physical attributes of a deity, or a hero, are
usually to be regarded as those of the race to which he
* LAING'S Note to SnorroSturleson, vol. iii. p. 101.
394 NOTES.
belongs. The golden locks of Apollo and Achilles are the
sign of a similar characteristic in the nations of which
they are the types ; and the blue eye of Minerva belies the
absurd doctrine that would identify her with the Egyptian
Naith.
The Norman retained perhaps longer than the Scan-
dinavian, from w : hom he sprang, the somewhat effeminate
peculiarity of small hands and feet ; and hence, as through-
out all the nobility of Europe the Norman was the model
for imitation, and the ruling families in many lauds sought
to trace from him their descents, so that characteristic is,
even to our day, ridiculously regarded as a sign of noble race.
The Norman retained that peculiarity longer than the Dane,
because his habits, as a conqueror, made him disdain all
manual labour ; and it was below his knightly dignity to
walk, as long as a horse could be found for him to ride.
But the Anglo-Norman, (the noblest specimen of the great
conquering family,) became so blent with the Saxon, both
in blood and in habits, that such physical distinctions
vanished with the age of chivalry. The Saxon blood in
our highest aristocracy now predominates greatly over the
Norman ; and it would be as vain a task to identify the sons
of Hastings and Rollo by the foot and hand of the old
Asiatic Scythian, as by the reddish auburn hair and the
high features which were no less ordinarily their type.
Here and there such peculiarities may all be seen amongst
plain country gentlemen, settled from time immemorial in
the counties peopled by the Anglo-Danes, and intermarrying
generally in their own provinces ; but amongst the far
more mixed breed of the larger landed proprietors compre-
hended in the Peerage, the Saxon attributes of race are
strikingly conspicuous, and, amongst them, the large hand
and foot common with all the Germanic tribes.
NOTES. 395
NOTE (C), pages 380, 381.
THE INTERMENT OF HAROLD.
HERE we are met by evidences of the most con
tradictory character. According to most of the English
writers, the body of Harold was given by William to
Githa, without ransom, and buried at Waltham. There is
even a story told of the generosity of the Conqueror, in
cashiering a soldier who gashed the corpse of the dead
hero. This last, however, seems to apply to some other
Saxon, and not to Harold. But William of Poitiers, who
was the Duke's own chaplain, and whose narration of the
battle appears to contain more internal evidence of accu-
racy than the rest of his chronicle, expressly says, that
William refused Githa's offer of its weight in gold for the
supposed corpse of Harold, and ordered it to be buried on
the beach, with the taunt quoted in the text of this work
" Let him guard the coasts which he madly occupied;" and
on the pretext that one, whose cupidity and avarice had
been the cause that so many men were slaughtered and lay
unsepultured, was not worthy himself of a tomb. Orderic
confirms this account, and says the body was given to
William Mallet, for that purpose.*
Certainly, William de Poitiers ought to have known
best ; and the probability of his story is to a certain degree
* This William Mallet was the father of Robert Mallet, founder of the
Priory of Eye, in Suffolk (a branch of the house of Mallet de Graville).
PurauET. He was also the ancestor of the great William Mallet, (or Malet
as the old Scandinavian name was now corruptly spelt,) one of the illustrious
twenty-five "conservators" of Magna Charta. The family is still extant;
and I have to apologize to Sir Alexander Malet, Bart., (Her Majesty's
Minister at Stutgard,) Lieut. Col. Charles St. Lo Malet, the Rev. William
Windham Malet, (Vicar of Ardley,) and other members of that ancient
House, for the liberty taken with the name of their gallant forefather.
396 NOTES.
borne out by the uncertainty as to Harold's positive in-
terment, which long prevailed, and which even gave rise
to a story related by Giraldus Cambrensis (and to be
found also in the Harleian MSS.), that Harold survived
the battle, became a monk in Chester, and before he died
had a long and secret interview with Henry the First. Such
a legend, however absurd, could scarcely have gained any
credit if (as the usual story runs) Harold had been formally
buried, in the presence of many of the Norman barons, in
Waltham Abbey but would very easily creep into belief,
if his body had been carelessly consigned to a Norman
knight, to be buried privately by the sea shore.
The story of Osgood and Ailred, the childemaister (school-
master in the monastery), as related by Pulgrave, and used
in this romance, is recorded in a MS. of Waltham Abbey,
and was written somewhere about fifty or sixty years after
the events say at the beginning of the twelfth century.
These two monks followed Harold to the field, placed
themselves so as to watch its results, offered ten marks for
the body, obtained permission for the search, and could
not recognise the mutilated corpse until Osgood sought
and returned with Edith. In point of fact, according to
this authority, it must have been two or three days after
the battle before the discovery was made.
THE END.
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The following is a List of the Works contained in this celebrated collection :
Vol.
35. Maxwell Theodore Hook.
36. Water Witch Cooper.
37. Mothers and Daughters Mrs. Gore.
38. The Bravo Cooper.
Vol.
1. The Pilot Cooper.
2. Caleb Williams Godwin.
3. The Spy Cooper.
4. Thaddeus of \Va.rsa.v;~MissJ. Porter.
5. St. Leon Godwin.
6. Last of the Mohicans Cooper.
7 & 8. The Scottish Chiefs -Miss Jane
Porter.
9. Frankenstein Mrs. Shelley ; and
Ghost Seer, Vol. I. Schiller.
10. Edgar Huntley Brockden Brown ;
and Conclusion of Ghost Seer.
11. Hungarian Brothers Miss A. M.
Porter.
12 & 13. Canterbury Tales The Misses
Lee.
14. The Pioneers Cooper.
15. Self-Control Mrs. Brunton.
16. Discipline Mrs. Brunton.
17. The Prairie Cooper.
18 & 19. The Pastor's Fire-side Miss
Jane Porter.
20. Lionel Lincoln Cooper.
21. Lawrie Tood Gait.
22. Fleetwood Godwin.
23. Sense and Sensibility Miss Austen.
24. Corinne Madame de Stae'l.
25. Emma Miss Austen.
26. Simple Story, and Nature and Art
Mrs. Inchbald.
27. Mansfield Park Miss Austen.
28. Northanger Abbey, and Persuasion
Miss A usten.
29. The Smuggler Banim.
30. Pride and Prejudice Miss Austen.
31. Stories of Waterloo Maxwell.
32. The Hunchback of Notre-Dame
Victor Hugo.
33. The Borderers Cooper.
34. Eugene Aram Bulwer.
39. The Heiress of Bruges Grattan.
40. Red Rover Cooper.
41. Vathek Beckford; Castle of Otran-
to Horace Walpole ; and Bravo of
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42. The Country Curate G'eia.
43. The Betrothed Manzoni.
44. Hajji Baba Morier.
45. Hajji Baba in England Morier.
46. The Parson's Daughter Th. Hoolc.
47. Paul Clifford Bulwer.
48. The Younger Son Capt. Trelawny.
49. The Alhambra Washington Ir-
ving ; The Last of the Abencerrages
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50. The Headsman Cooper.
51 & 52. Anastasius Hope.
53. Darnley James.
54. Zohrab Morier.
55. Heidenmauer Cooper.
56. De L'Orme James.
57. Headlong Hall, Nightmare Abbey,
Maid Marian, and Crotchet Castle
Peacock.
58. Trevelyan The Author of " A Mar-
riage in High Life."
59. Philip Augustus James.
60. Rookwood Ainsworth.
61. Henry Masterton James.
62. Peter Simple Marryat.
63. Jacob Faithful Marryat.
64. Japhet in Search of a Father
Marryat.
65. King's Own Marryat.
66. Mr. Midshipman Easy Marryat.
STANDARD NOVELS AND ROMANCES continued.
Vol.
67. Newton Forater Marriiat.
68. The Pacha of Many tales Mar-
ryat.
69. Rattlin the Reefer.
70. Captain Blake ; or, My Life 3f ax-
well.
71. Hellen Mitt Edqetcorth.
72. The Last Days of Pompeii Bultoer.
73. The BiTOUac Maxwell.
74. Precaution Cooper.
75. Jack BnxTkfodore Hook.
76. Rory O'More Lorer.
77. Ben Brace Cop/. Chamler.
78. The Vicar of Wrexhill Mr$. Trol-
lope.
79. The Buccaneer Mn. S. C. Hall.
80. Tylney Hall Thomas Hood.
8 1 . The Widow Bamaby M rt. Trollope.
82. The Soldier of Lyons Mr*. Oore.
83. Marriage The Author of" The In-
heritance" and "Dating."
84. The Inheritance.
85. Destiny.
86. Gilbert Gurney Theodore Hook.
87. The Widow and the Marquess
Theodore Hook.
88. All in the Wrong; or, Births, Deaths,
and Marriage* Theodore Hook.
Vol.
89. Homeward Bound Cooper.
90. The Pathfinder Cooper.
91. The Deerslayer Cooper.
U2. Jacqueline of Holland Grattan.
93. The Man- at- Arms Jamet.
94. Two Old Men's Tales.
95. The Two Admirals Cooper.
96. Richard Savage Whitehead.
97. Cecil Mrt. Gore.
98. The Prairie Bird The Hon. C.
A. Murray.
99. Jack o'Lantern Cooper.
100. Ayesha Morier.
101. Marchioness of Brinvilliers Al-
bert Smith.
102. Belford Regis Mui Mitford.
103. My Cousin Nicholas Inyoldsby.
104. The Poacher Marryat.
105. The Outlaw Mr*. S. C. Hall.
106. The Phantom Ship Marryat.
107. The Dog Fiend Marryat.
108. Adventures of Mr. Ledbury Al-
bert Smith.
109. Agnes de Mansfeldt Graltan.
110. The Improvisatore Hans Chrii-
tian Anderie*.
111. Romance and Reality L. E. L.
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The following popular Worlu will ihortly be added to thit collection:
CATHERINE DE MEDICIS ; OR, THE QUEEN MOTHER.
By Miss LOUISA STUART COSTELLO.
To be published on the 30th June.
THE DARK FALCON.
THE HIGHLAND SMUGGLER.
By J. B. FKAZER.
LEGENDS OF THE RHINE.
By T. C. OR ATT AX.
THE CHAPERONE.
TALES OP THE PEERAGE AND PEASANTRY.
Edited by LADY DACRE.
To these will be added, from time to time, the best works which issue
from the press.
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET.
UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY
A 000169663 2
