Danes, Saxons and Normans Part 18

It was destined that the posterity of this great Saxon, who pa.s.sed his last days hovering between two countries, in neither of which he could find a home, and who died in misery, and with lamentations on his lips, should exercise the very highest authority in centuries then to come. He left two sons. One of these was Cospatrick, founder of the House of Dunbar, whose chiefs were so great in war and peace; the other was Dolfin, male ancestor of the Nevilles, who became famous for making and unmaking kings.

Meanwhile, Cospatrick was laid at rest in the porch of the church of Norham. In the chancel of that ancient edifice, a rec.u.mbent effigy, in the decorated style of the fourteenth century, when his descendants on both sides of the Tweed were in all their glory, still recalls his memory, when the places that once knew them know them no more--when the castle of Dunbar is desolate, and when Raby no longer owns a Neville as its lord.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

x.x.xVI.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

ATHELING AND HIS ALLIES.

When Edgar Atheling, after the disastrous defeat of the Saxons at York, took refuge in Scotland, he found himself treated with great respect. Malcolm Canmore, saluting the exiled prince as true King of England, a.s.sured him of a secure asylum, and influenced, doubtless, by the charms of the fair Margaret, still further evinced his sympathy with the Saxon cause by bestowing offices and lands on the expatriated chiefs. Moreover, he promised Atheling every aid to regain the throne of his ancestors.

The King of Scots was probably quite sincere in his professions of friendship and promises of support; but his power to a.s.sist the Saxons was by no means equal to his will. Besides, the mighty energy of William, bearing down all opposition, was calculated to daunt the boldest foe. Malcolm was brave as a lion; yet he might, without exposing himself to the imputation of cowardice, feel some degree of alarm as he conjured up visions of Norman warriors crossing the river Tweed, sweeping through the Merse and Lothian, and pursuing their victorious career as far north as to cool the hoofs of their horses in the waters of the Tay, and plant their standard on the towers of the palace of Scone.

At all events, it is certain that, after a brief residence in Scotland, Atheling recognised the necessity of seeking a reconciliation with the Conqueror. This was, without difficulty, obtained. Then, as ever, William was kind and forgiving to the heir of Alfred. But, as the work of the Conquest went on, and as the Saxons, exasperated by the deposition of their bishops and abbots, indicated their intention of making a great effort to recover their liberty, Atheling discovered that he was the object of suspicion. Indeed, it was natural that such should have been the case; for his name was in the mouth of all ardent patriots, and songs were sung in which he was described as "the brave, the beautiful darling of England." Perceiving that snares were set for him, Atheling effected his escape from court; and, with all the haste he could, made for Scotland.

"Curse him!" exclaimed the Normans; "he is the most fickle of human beings."

"Ah!" cried the Saxons, "he is young and handsome, and descended from the true race--the best race of the country."

It must be admitted that, so far as appearances went, the Saxons had reason to be proud of the heir of their ancient kings. Atheling was now approaching manhood, and looked worthy, indeed, of a nation's regard. His person was handsome, his figure tall and graceful, his manner courteous to excess, his temper serene to a fault, and he spoke with taste and eloquence. Brave he was beyond question, but somewhat slow in action; and while ever and anon giving proof that he inherited the courage of Ironsides, he constantly showed symptoms of having in his veins the sluggish blood of Ethelred.

Indeed, the prospects of Edgar Atheling were at no time so encouraging as to tempt him to heroic ventures to regain the crown which had, for a brief season, been his. After the day on which Malcolm Canmore did homage to William the Norman, aid from Scotland could not reasonably be expected. Not yet content, however, to submit tamely to circ.u.mstances, Atheling, in 1075, repaired to Flanders, probably when Cospatrick, after being deprived of Northumberland, went thither to crave the alliance of Count Robert, who, though Matilda's kinsman, was William's political enemy, and, moreover, a descendant of Alfred the Great. But Atheling's application was not attended with success, and he returned to Scotland with the impression that the Saxon cause was too hopeless to enlist the alliance of any European prince, when, somewhat to his surprise, he was favoured with a friendly message from the King of France.

Philip, though young, was no longer the mere boy whose countenance and support William the Norman had asked before undertaking his expedition against Harold. The heir of Hugh Capet was now in his thirty-third year, perfectly capable of comprehending his position, and of estimating the power of a Duke of Normandy who was also King of England. In fact, he had somewhat recent evidence of William's strength and his own weakness. While William, who had left England in 1073, was on the Continent, carrying on war in Maine with signal success, Philip had taken up arms against the Count of Flanders, and sustained a shameful defeat before Ca.s.sel. The idea of a man who had been vanquished by Count Robert of Flanders having to encounter William the Conqueror was not pleasant; and the French king, eager in the extreme to multiply William's enemies on the English side of the Channel, resolved to afford the Saxons such encouragement as to enable them to keep their conqueror in his insular dominions.

It was under the influence of such apprehensions, and with a view of accomplishing such an object, that Philip invited Atheling to France.

"Come hither," wrote the French king to the English prince--"come and aid me with your counsel. I will give you the fortress of Montreuil, which is so situated that thence you can either make a descent on England or ravage Normandy."

Atheling was not proof against such temptation. On receiving Philip's message, he prepared, with the companions of his exile, to embark for France, and made arrangements for his voyage. Malcolm, as William's liegeman, could not openly lend his countenance to the enterprise of his brother-in-law. Nevertheless, he secretly supplied Atheling with money, and furnished the companions of the exiled prince with arms.

But the expedition, and all the projects to which it was to lead, were destined to come to nought. The voyage of the adventurers proved the very reverse of fortunate. Scarcely had Atheling's fleet lost sight of the Scottish sh.o.r.es when a violent tempest arose. The vessels were scattered like leaves in autumn. Some sank, and others, going to pieces on the northern coast of England, left their crews at the mercy of the Norman officials, who made them prisoners. Atheling, and those who sailed in his ship, were wrecked, but escaped captivity. However, they lost everything; and in sadness and gloom they made their way, some on foot, others miserably mounted, back to the Scottish court, where Atheling, with his wonted eloquence, narrated to Malcolm and Margaret the misfortunes of the voyage.

"And now," asked Atheling, in conclusion, "what is to be done?"

"It seems to me," answered Malcolm, "that fortune is decidedly against you. Wherefore, struggle no longer with fate, but seek peace, once more, of William the Norman."

At all times Atheling was easily persuaded; and, on this occasion, he was in no frame of mind to dispute the wisdom of Malcolm's counsel.

Accordingly he sent a message to William, who was still on the Continent; and William, responding frankly, asked him to repair to Normandy. Entering England by the north, pa.s.sing through the country escorted by Norman counts, and entertained by them in the tall and turretted castles which already crowned every height, and which contrasted strangely with the low, irregular buildings, surrounded by woods, in which dwelt such of the Saxons of rank as had escaped death or banishment, Atheling could not fail to be impressed with a conviction of the fact that the work of the Conquest had gone much too far to be undone by force of arms, and that any thought of resistance was absurd.

Embarking for the Continent, he reached Rouen in safety, and was received by the Conqueror with kindness. A pension was granted to the banished prince to defray his personal expenses; but, taking a fancy to a charger in the stables of the palace, he afterwards parted with his pension in order to become master of the animal. For years Atheling remained at the palace of Rouen, amusing himself with hawks, dogs, and horses, and reflecting, with philosophic calmness, on the crown he had lost and the land from which he was exiled.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Hawk striking the quarry.]

x.x.xVII.

FITZOSBORNE AND DE GAEL.

One day in the course of the year 1074, when William the Conqueror was in Normandy fighting with his Continental foes, and while Archbishop Lanfranc governed England in the king's absence, a great marriage took place in the castle of Norwich. Many guests of high rank were bidden; and the occasion was rendered memorable by the circ.u.mstance that the feast with which it was celebrated proved fatal to almost every individual who happened to be present.

About the year 1073, William Fitzosborne, the Conqueror's famous comrade in arms, departed this life, leaving two sons, named William and Roger, and a daughter, named Emma. William, succeeding to his father's lands in Normandy, was known as Lord of Breteuil; Roger, inheriting his father's English possessions, became Earl of Hereford; and Emma was sought in marriage by a young Breton, who figured as Earl of Norfolk, and naturally felt ambitious of allying himself with the high Norman n.o.bility. But a union between Ralph de Gael and the daughter of Fitzosborne did not meet with the Conqueror's approval. In fact, William set his face decidedly against the matrimonial project, and, being at the time in Normandy, sent a messenger to forbid, in the most peremptory tone, the celebration of the marriage.

The interference of William was more than the high spirit of Roger Fitzosborne could brook. He resolved at once to set the Conqueror's prohibition at defiance; and, on a day appointed for the wedding, conveyed his sister to Norwich.

The ceremony was performed with a pomp worthy of the rank of the parties; and when the feast was spread in the castle hall, Norman bishops, and lords of high degree, both Norman and Welsh, and ladies fair to look upon, gathered around the board. So far all went smoothly. But as dishes were carved and cups emptied the master of the feast and his guests became rapidly excited and frank to excess. The habitual respect displayed by the Norman n.o.bles for the great war-chief who had led them to conquest and plunder vanished as wine flowed in abundance, and the two earls especially vociferated in a strain which caused many present to stare in silent surprise.

"What is this man?" asked Roger Fitzosborne, in accents of supreme contempt--"what is this man, who dictates who are to be the husbands of ladies descended from the comrades of Rollo?--A b.a.s.t.a.r.d, owing this kingdom to my father, to whose memory this interference is an insult."

"He is a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, and a man of low birth," cried the Normans. "He may call himself a king; but 'tis clear that he is not made for one, and that he is not agreeable in the sight of G.o.d."

"And," exclaimed the Saxons, "he invaded England, he ma.s.sacred the legitimate heirs of our kings and n.o.bles, or obliged them to expatriate themselves."

"What is worst of all," roared the military adventurers who had followed William's banner in hopes of high reward, "he has not honoured as he might those who came to his aid--those who raised him higher than any of his predecessors."

"Yes," cried others; "what has he given to us, the conquerors covered with wounds? Sterile tracts of land, of which he deprives us whenever he sees them improving."

"It is true!" shouted the guests, tumultuously; "the man is odious to all; his death would gladden the hearts of all. Let him die!"

After further vociferation, the two earls, several bishops and abbots, many Normans and Saxons, and the Welsh chieftains, bound themselves by oath to rise against William, and arranged to ask the aid of Sweyn, King of Denmark, to insure the success of their perilous project.

Perhaps, with the morning, repentance came, and many rued the words they had spoken and the promises they had made over wine at the festive board. But it was too late to retreat; and the two earls, to lessen the danger of being betrayed, resolved on immediate action.

Roger Fitzosborne hastened home to raise his banner at Hereford; and Ralph de Gael prepared to shorten his honeymoon, leave the company of his bride, and raise his banner at Cambridge.

On reaching the province of which he was earl, Roger Fitzosborne lost no time in rallying his friends around him. Not only did he gather the discontented Normans to his standard. The Welsh on the Marches rose at his summons, and, with wild and vague hopes of recovering independence, rushed with enthusiasm to his aid. Having a.s.sembled a force which he deemed sufficiently formidable to inspire foes with terror, he commenced his march eastward, with the intention of joining De Gael. But, on reaching the Severn, and attempting to pa.s.s that river by the bridge at Worcester, he found, somewhat to his surprise, that preparations had been made to stop his progress.

In fact, the conspirators at Norwich had not very faithfully kept their secret. By some means or other, Lanfranc had become acquainted with the whole project; and when in possession of such intelligence the great archbishop was not the man to sleep at his post. He despatched soldiers from London to throw themselves in Roger's path; and he so far made use of the spiritual artillery at his command as to level a sentence of excommunication against the Norman earl.

Meanwhile, the king's friends were not idle in the west. Walter de Lacy, a Norman baron, and Eghelwig, the Saxon abbot of Evesham, roused the people of the country to take arms against Roger Fitzosborne and his Welshmen; and the people, regarding the Welsh as their natural enemies, obeyed the call of Walter and Eghelwig, and crowded to the royal standard.

At length the royal soldiers and the insurgents met face to face. It was on the banks of the Severn that the hostile armies encountered and fought a sanguinary battle. The Welsh, however, were defeated, and with such slaughter that the river was crimsoned with their blood.

Roger Fitzosborne was made prisoner, and with him many adherents were taken with arms in their hands. The chief was kept in secure custody till the Conqueror should decide what was to be his fate. But the inferior captives were summarily disposed of. Some were hung on gibbets, some had their eyes put out, and others underwent such mutilation as to render them incapable of further mischief.

While such disasters attended the adventure of Roger Fitzosborne on the Severn, Ralph de Gael did not yield to the temptation of lingering with his fair bride at Norwich. Leaving that city, the bold Breton encamped in the neighbourhood of Cambridge, and succeeded in alluring a mult.i.tude of Saxons to his standard. But Ralph de Gael's part of the enterprise proved little more successful than that of Roger Fitzosborne had been. While the Breton earl was still gathering men to his camp, William de Warren, with Odo, Bishop of Bayeux, and Geoffrey, Bishop of Coutance, took the field, and the insurgents found themselves menaced by a force decidedly superior to them in number.

Not shrinking, however, from a conflict, they bravely faced the royal force at a place named f.a.gadon. There a stubborn battle was fought; but Ralph de Gael's men were completely defeated; and the chief escaped from the lost field, while many of his adherents were taken and treated with the utmost cruelty. Indeed, the victors are said to have been so merciless as to cut off the right foot of every captive, no matter what his rank or nation.

In the midst of this operation, Ralph de Gael had the fortune to reach Norwich. He threw himself into the citadel with some vague and desperate notions of defending himself to the last. Seeing, however, the impossibility of holding out, he left the fortress under the charge of his bride, and sailed to Brittany to implore the aid of his friends. The daughter of Fitzosborne made a brave defence, but her resistance proved vain. After a somewhat protracted struggle, the men-at-arms, seeing famine staring them in the face, recognised the necessity of yielding, and agreed, not only to surrender Norwich, but to leave England in case of their lives being spared. Almost every Breton who had come to England with the Conqueror was involved in the ruin of Ralph de Gael, and departed from the English sh.o.r.es. "Glory be to G.o.d in the highest!" Lanfranc wrote joyfully to King William, "your kingdom is freed from the filthy Bretons."

On returning to England, William, at Christmas, held a great council of barons, and dealt with the rebel chiefs. Both were condemned to lose their estates. De Gael, being absent, could not, of course, be punished in person; but Fitzosborne, who appeared before the a.s.sembly, was sentenced to perpetual imprisonment.

When matters had reached this stage, a son of Sweyn, King of Denmark, unaware of the ruin of those who had craved a.s.sistance, approached the eastern coast. But the Danes made no attempt to land. On learning what had happened they turned their helms towards Flanders, and left Fitzosborne to his fate.