Read Alfgar the Dane or the Second Chronicle of Aescendune Page 25


  CHAPTER XXIV. THE ORDEAL.

  The news of the murder of Edmund spread far and wide, and awakeneddeep sorrow and indignation, not only amongst his friends andsubjects, but even amongst his former enemies, the Danes, now rapidlyyielding to the civilising and softening influences of Christianity,following therein the notable example of their king, Canute, who waseverywhere restoring the churches and monasteries he and his haddestroyed, and saying, with no faltering voice, albeit, perhaps, witha very inadequate realisation of all the words implied, "As for me andmy house, we will serve the Lord."

  Ealdorman and thane came flocking into Oxenford from all theneighbouring districts of Wessex and Mercia. The body of the lamentedmonarch was laid in state in St. Frideswide's; there wax tapers shed ahallowed light on the sternly composed features of him who had beenthe bulwark of England; and there choking sobs and bitter sighs everyhour rent the air, and bore witness to a nation's grief. And there,two heartbroken ladies, a mother and a daughter, came often to pray,not only for the soul of the departed king, but also for the discoveryof his murderers and the clearing of the innocent, for neither Hildanor Ethelgiva for one moment doubted the spotless innocence of Alfgar.

  They were refused admittance to the cell wherein he was confined byEdric, who had assumed the direction of all things, and whose claim,such is the force of impudence, seemed to be tacitly allowed by thethanes and ealdormen of Wessex.

  But Elfwyn and Herstan could hardly be denied permission to visit him,owing to their positions, and they both did so. They found him in achamber occupying the whole of the higher floor of a tower of thecastle, which served as a prison for the city and neighbourhood,rudely but massively built. One solitary and deep window admitted alittle air and light, but the height rendered all escape hopeless,even had the victim wished to escape, which he did not.

  "Alfgar, my son!" said Elfwyn, finding the poor prisoner did notspeak, "do you not know us?"

  "Indeed I do; but do you believe me guilty, nay, even capable of--"

  He could add no more, but they saw that if they doubted they wouldhear no more from him--that he scorned self-defence.

  "Guilty!--no, God forbid! we alone in the council asserted yourcomplete innocence."

  "I thank you; you have taken away the bitterness of death--andEthelgiva?"

  "Would die for her conviction of your truth."

  "Thank God!" he said fervently, his face brightening at once; tears,indeed, rolled down his cheeks, but they seemed rather of gratitudethan grief.

  "We wanted to see, my son, whether you could aid us in discovering thereal assassin--whether you can in any way account for his possessionof your dagger, for your door being still, as you asserted, fastinside."

  "I knew it made against me, but I couldn't lie, it was fast inside."

  "Then how could the foe have gained admittance?"

  "I could not discover that, but I think there must have been somesecret door. Edric had perhaps lived in the Place before; he onceresided in Oxenford."

  "He did, and in that very house," said Herstan. "I was here at thetime when he assassinated Sigeferth and Morcar in the banquetinghall."

  "That may supply a clue, I know no other possible one."

  "But how, then, did he get your dagger?"

  "I think our wine was drugged the night before, or I should not haveslept so soundly. I remember with what difficulty I seemed to throwoff a kind of nightmare which oppressed me, and to come to myself."

  "Then I will get a carpenter and search the wainscoting; and I willsee whether I can learn anything about the wine," said Elfwyn.

  "Do so cautiously, my father, very cautiously, for if Edric suspectsyou are on his track, he will plot against your life too, andEthelgiva will have no protector.

  "Oh, this was to have been my wedding day, my wedding day!" and heclasped his hands in agony; then the thought of his master--his slainlord--returned, and he cried, "O Edmund! my master, my dear master, sogood, so gentle, yet so brave; who else could slay him? what fiendelse than Edric, the murderer Edric? That they should think I, or anyone else than Edric, could have done such a deed, such an evil deed!"

  Elfwyn and Herstan both left the scene, the more convinced of Alfgar'sinnocence, but yet the more puzzled to convey their impression toothers.

  Meanwhile the arrangements for Edmund's burial were made. It wasdecided, according to the wish he had more than once expressed, thathe should rest beneath the shadow of a shrine he had loved well; andon the second day after his death the mournful procession leftOxenford for Glastonbury, followed by the tears and prayers of thecitizens. There, after a long and toilsome winter journey, the funeralcortege arrived, and was joined by his wife Elgitha, his sons Edmundand Edward. They laid him to rest by the side of his grandfather,Edgar "the Magnanimous," whose days of peace and prosperity allEngland loved to remember. There, amidst the people of Wessex who hadrallied so often to his war cry, all that was mortal of the Ironsidereposed.

  Meanwhile the crafty Edric, who excused himself from attendance on thesolemnities, tarried at Oxenford, and with him tarried also Elfwyn,Herstan, and the other friends of the unfortunate prisoner, to secure,as they were able, that justice should be rendered him.

  A special court of justice was speedily organised, wherein Edricpresided as ealdorman of Mercia, for Oxenford properly was a Merciancity, although, lying on the debateable land, it was frequentlyclaimed by Wessex as the border land changed its boundaries.

  The court was composed of wise and aged men, ealdormen, thanes, andburgesses had places, and the bishop of Dorchester sat by Edric asassessor.

  The court was opened, and the vacant places in the room were occupiedat once by the crowd who were fortunate enough to gain entrance. Thegeneral feeling was strong against the prisoner, the more so becausehe had been loved and trusted by Edmund, so that ingratitude added tothe magnitude of his crime in their eyes.

  But amongst those who stood nearest to the place he must occupy werehis betrothed, her mother, Bertha, and young Hermann, who had alreadygot into several quarrels through his fierce espousing of the cause ofthe accused.

  He entered at last under a guard, calm and dignified, in spite of hissuffering. He met the gaze of the multitude without flinching, and hisgeneral demeanour impressed many in his favour. Compurgators, or mento swear that they believed him innocent, a kind of evidence fullyrecognised by the Saxon law, were not wanting; but they consistedchiefly of his old companions in arms and his friends from Aescendune.In a lighter accusation, his innocence might have been established bythis primitive mode of evidence, but the case was too serious; theaccusation being one of the murder of a king.

  The charge was duly read; and to the accusation he replied, "Notguilty!" with a fervour and firmness which caused men to look up.

  The chamberlain was first examined.

  "Were you present when the late king retired to rest?"

  "I was."

  "Who shared his chamber?"

  "The prisoner slept in an antechamber."

  "Was there a fastening to the outer door of the antechamber?"

  "Yes; a strong bolt."

  "Could it be opened from the exterior?"

  "It could not."

  "Was there any other entrance to the royal apartments?"

  "None."

  The dagger was produced, and Elfwyn was examined.

  "Do you recognise the weapon?"

  "I do; it was Alfgar's."

  "How do you recognise it?"

  "It was richly carved about the handle. The letter E is stamped uponit, with a crown."

  "Whence did the prisoner obtain it?"

  "The king gave it him." (Sensation.)

  "Did you see it on the night of the murder?"

  "I did."

  "Under what circumstances?"

  "The accused held it dripping with blood in his hands, and said hefound it sticking in the corpse."

  Other witnesses were also called to prove these facts.

  The accused was th
en heard in his own defence, and he repeated withgreat simplicity and candour the circumstances so well known to ourreaders; and concluded:

  "I can say no more. None who knew the love he bore me, and that I borehim, could suspect me."

  The bishop here spoke.

  "It is my office," said he, "by the canons of King Athelstane, toassist secular judges in purging away accusations, therefore I willask the accused a few questions."

  "Had you any cause of suspicion against any other person--anything topoint out the doer of this evil deed?"

  "All men loved him save one."

  "And who was that one?"

  "He sits to judge me."

  "Nay," cried the bishop, "we all beheld the reconciliation in St.Frideswide's church."

  "The king himself was warned not to trust to the reconciliation."

  "By whom?"

  "His brother sovereign."

  "Canute?"

  And here Edric perceptibly changed colour.

  "Even so."

  "Your proofs," said the bishop--"nay, my lord Edric, trust yourreputation to the justice of God and the court."

  "The messenger from Canute, who came here on the vigil of St. Andrew."

  "Where is he?"

  "He has returned to Canute," said Elfwyn.

  "Aught else?"

  "Only I would bid you remember that the ealdorman Edric sought in likemanner reconciliation with Elfhelm of Shrewsbury, and all men knowwhat followed."

  Here Edric interrupted--"I do not sit here to be judged, but to judge.These accusations cannot be heard."

  "There is a judgment seat above where you will not be able to makethat plea," said the prisoner solemnly.

  "Alfgar," said the bishop, "this counter-accusation cannot bereceived; have you aught else to urge?"

  "None. I commit my cause to God."

  The court retired.

  The pause was long and painful. It afterwards transpired that thebishop pleaded in Alfgar's favour, while Herstan ably seconded him;but all was in vain. Edric's eloquence, and the strong circumstantialevidence against the prisoner, carried the day, and the ealdorman evenproposed that execution should be speedy, "lest," he whispered,"Canute should interfere to screen his instrument."

  It was a dangerous game, but he thought the services he had renderedthe Danish cause enabled him to play it safely.

  They returned. All men saw the verdict in their faces. Edric spokewith great solemnity.

  "We find the prisoner guilty."

  There was a dead pause.

  "I appeal to the judgment of God. I demand the ordeal cf fire," saidAlfgar {xix}.

  "It cannot be denied," said the bishop, who had anticipated theappeal. "I myself will see to the preliminaries; and it may take placetomorrow morning in St. Frideswide's church."

  Edric and his sympathisers would fain have denied the claim, but theycould not resist the bishop, backed as he was by the popular voice,for the cry, "The ordeal! yes, the ordeal!" was taken up at once bythe populace.

  While he was hesitating, his brother Goda appeared amongst the crowd.

  "Canute," he whispered, "draws nigh Oxenford. He has heard what isgoing on."

  Edric trembled, but soon recovered himself. However, it was not a timeto deny justice.

  The following morning the church of St. Frideswide was crowded at theearly mass. All the friends of the accused were there, and Edric withall his party. The holy service was about to commence, when the crowdat the church door moved aside; a passage was speedily made though thecrowd, and three or four ecclesiastics, one habited as a royalchaplain, escorted a stranger, to whom all paid instinctive reverence,yet hardly knowing why, for he was only clad in the ordinary robesworn by noblemen amongst the English.

  He was led to the choir, and placed where Edmund had knelt by Edric'sside some days previously. Edric saw him, and exchanged glances, afterwhich the ealdorman looked uneasy.

  On the other side knelt the prisoner, with Elfwyn and Herstan oneither side, and his colour heightened. Well it might. He had lastseen that figure when he fought by Edmund's side at Penn. But it wasnot that meeting. Words spoken ten years before came back to him withmarvellous force:

  "Tell me what is the secret of this Christianity?"

  And Alfgar knew that Canute had found that secret at last.

  "Why was he here? Did he come as his friend or foe?"

  The mass was over. Alfgar had followed the whole ceremony with raptattention, for it was in God alone that he could now put hisconfidence.

  Then a furnace was placed in the church, containing nine bars of ironof red heat, and the fire was blown till the bars, quivering withheat, glittered in the sight. The bishop approached, and said theappointed prayers, that God would detect the innocence or guilt of theprisoner by their means, and reveal the truth known only to Him.

  Then a lane was formed up the church, and the friends of Alfgar keptone side, while those of Edric kept the other, after which the bars ofiron were laid down about two feet apart.

  The bishop approached.

  "Are ye all fasting with prayer?" he inquired.

  The friends of accused and accuser from either side replied:

  "We are."

  "Humble yourselves, and pray to God to reveal the truth," said he, andsprinkled them with holy water, after which the book of the Gospelswas passed all round to be kissed.

  "Pray that God may reveal the truth," said he again.

  "We do so pray."

  Then Alfgar, who felt full of divine confidence, took his place at theend nearest the porch. He was given the book of the Gospels.

  "Swear thy innocence upon the holy Gospels," said the bishop.

  "I do swear that I am innocent of the crime they lay to my charge;"and he kissed the book; then holy water was sprinkled upon his feet,and given him to drink.

  The decisive moment approached. He looked round, he saw Ethelgiva, hereyes full of tears, her lips moving in prayer.

  All fear departed from him.

  The bishop blindfolded him.

  "My son, trust in God, and in His strength go forward," he whispered.

  Alfgar could see nought now. A line of red string was stretched fromthe bishop's hand to that of a priest at the other extremity, to guidehim. Canute advanced, took the end from the priest's hand and held it.

  Alfgar started one step. The first iron is passed safely--two, thesecond cleared. The excitement is intense. Three cleared--four, five.Ah, he nears the sixth! No, he misses it!--seven, eight--onemore--nine! SAVED BY GOD!

  Ethelgiva fainted. A deep sound of applause, not even suppressed bythe character of the place. Elfwyn received his adopted son in hisarms:

  "Saved, saved!" he cried.

  "Thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory!" replied Alfgar.

  When the first congratulations were over, and Alfgar had somewhatrecovered from the excitement of the shock, and from thecongratulations which were heaped upon him upon all sides, he was toldthat Canute awaited him in the audience chamber, and at once repairedto the presence of his future king with less emotion than may beimagined; for he was worn out by sensation, and becoming callous toimpressions.

  He was formally introduced by the officer in waiting, and the king atonce dismissed that functionary.

  "Alfgar, son of Anlaf, we have met before," observed the monarch.

  "We have, my lord."

  "I did not refer to later occasions, when we have met on thebattlefield, but to a far earlier one. Need I recall it? Surely thereare some moments in one's life never to be forgotten."

  "There are indeed, my lord. Pardon my confusion. You refer to a scenein Carisbrooke."

  "Yes. When I asked you, 'What is this Christianity?' you had not muchtime given you to answer me then, but your deliberate choice of abitter death, in preference to abandoning it, showed me there wassomewhat deeper in it than I had imagined. Alfgar, there are seedslightly sown which bear fruit hereafter, and your words were of such acharacter--so that I, your future monarc
h, owe you already a debt ofgratitude, and I had come hither to fulfil it when you saved me thetask by appealing to the ordeal. I for one had full faith in thejustice of God. But had you not so appealed, I should have stepped inbetween Edric and his victim."

  "You did not then, my lord, believe in my guilt?"

  "Not for one moment. The lad who defied my unhappy father in thefrantic fury of his power--the warrior I had seen fighting by the sideof his king--the faithful attendant of many years?--Nay, it wasmonstrous; who could believe it?"

  "Many, alas! found it possible to believe it, my lord. But who hasbeen the murderer? You will not permit your brother's blood to fall onthe earth unavenged."

  "Wait. Be patient. God, in whom you trust, will direct the bolt in Hisown time. Edmund's blood will not be unavenged. And now, farewell!Remember, if you have lost one royal friend, you have found another."

  And Alfgar left the presence.

  The next day the whole party from Aescendune returned home. Oxenfordwas too full of bitter memories now. One grief of Alfgar was this--hehad not been able to stand by Edmund's grave.

  CHAPTER XXV. FATHER CUTHBERT'S DIARY.

  CHRISTMASTIDE 1017.

  Ten years ago, this very day, God in His mercy delivered us from theraging Danes at Cliffton, on Tamesis, and now He hath delivered usagain out of the hands of the raging lion, even of Edric Streorn, andwe are all spared to keep our Christmas in peace in the woods ofAescendune.

  It is probably the last I shall keep in this place, for the hall andpriory are fast rising from their ruins, and we shall soon return toour old home, from which we have been banished ten years and more. Itwill be sweet to be there once more, serving the Lord in peace, withnone daring to make us afraid.

  Here we are, all of us who are near and dear by the ties of blood, inthis woodland Zoar, which hath indeed been a Zoar in the latetroublous years, utterly untouched, which again we regard as a proofthat Anlaf does not live, for he could have found us out had hisrevenge led him to do so when Sweyn was in Mercia. Neither has heappeared to claim his own estate, which he might easily regain now aDane is king.

  Alfgar and Ethelgiva are now speedily to be united. Theirs is to bethe first marriage solemnised in the new minster church by my unworthyhands. To see them now, one would think they had forgotten all thepast peril. The old people do not mean to abandon their woodlandabode; they love it all too well, and call it the Happy Valley. Butthey say that a good road, now the times are safer, shall be made tothe old site, where we are again rearing hall and priory.

  There is now quite a colony here, nearly 300 people. The church isvery commodious, and every day, for the whole period of these latedreadful wars, mass has been said therein for our suffering brethren"contra Paganos." Thank God that he hath at length heard our prayers;our late foes are no longer Pagans but Christians, and are as eager tobuild up as they were to cast down; in fact, several of them haveoffered their zealous aid in the rebuilding of our priory.

  We had such a happy Christmas evening. We sat by the fire, and Alfgarwas made to relate the whole story again of his escape with Edmundfrom Carisbrooke, of his imprisonment by Edric in the Synodune woods,of the attack and defence of Clifton. We had all heard it before, butstill we wanted to hear it again, just to contrast present peace andjoy with the danger and trials of those days, and to make them sweeterby the contrast. Truly our Christmas worship had need to be praise andthanksgiving, not only for the great mystery the church commemorates,but also for present mercies so freely bestowed upon us all.

  Second Sunday after Easter, 1017.--

  We have just received intelligence that Canute has been solemnlycrowned at St. Paul's Church, in London, by Archbishop Lyfing. Hecalled a council of the whole kingdom previously, to which both mybrother and I were summoned, but I cared not to attend. Elfwyn,however, went, and wanted Alfgar to go, but he begged hard to beexcused, I imagine for two reasons. First of all, he laments Edmundtoo deeply to welcome his former enemy as his successor; and secondly,he does not care to leave Ethelgiva again.

  Well, Elfwyn tells us that when all were present--bishops, ealdormen,thanes, and the noblest of the people--Canute solemnly proposed thatthey should accept him as their king, giving them to understand that,by a tacit understanding with Edmund, it had been agreed that thekingdom should not be permanently divided, but that the survivorshould inherit and govern the whole realm.

  The wise men replied that, since Edmund's children were too young togovern, they could not desire a better monarch than Canute; theycommitted the little ones to his care, and acknowledged him as king ofall England.

  And on the morrow Archbishop Lyfing, who had so shortly before crownedEdmund, placed the emblem of regal dignity on the head of Canute inSt. Paul's Cathedral.

  I hear Edric Streorn is confirmed in the earldom of Mercia. I stillfear that man.

  Sunday after Ascension, 1017.--

  On this happy Sunday it has pleased God to restore us to our home oncemore. The priory is rebuilt in more than its former beauty, and thehall beside it stands conspicuous in its splendour. They have notchanged the appearance much, for it was the especial wish of every oneconcerned that it should remind one of old associations as much aspossible.

  The good bishop of Dorchester, the abbot of Abingdon, and many othersof my friends amongst the brethren there, the neighbouring clergy andthanes, all met together to dedicate the new house to God. High masswas solemnly sung in the minster church, and the whole building washallowed with psalm and prayer to God; after which followed atemperate banquet.

  The bishop was very kind and loving, and spoke most affectionately toour poor people on the subject of their past trials; especially hecommended their new lord, Alfgar, to their allegiance, saying that inall his deep trials he had shown himself a most perfect Christian,doing his duty both to God and man.

  Monday.--

  The abbot and brethren from Abingdon are gone back, and we poor happybrethren have entered again upon our regular duties. Ah me! what a gaptime has made in our ranks. Of the twenty brethren who were driven outby the Danes eleven years ago, only twelve yet live, and eightbrethren from Abingdon supply the place of the others. God be praisedthat Father Adhelm yet lives! He has been my right hand in so manyperils and trials.

  It is so delightful to be at home once more. Surely never were monkshappier. My heart swells when each morning we sing the three lastjoyful psalms at lauds.

  It is settled that Alfgar and Ethelgiva are to be married on theMonday after the Whitsun octave. O happy pair! O ter felices et nimiumbeati! I only hope they will not love earth too well.

  Octave of the Ascension.--

  Today we have had a special messenger from Canute, who is in theneighbourhood, to express his royal intention to grace the approachingmarriage with his presence. It will indeed be an honour. Ah! but ifEdmund could be there.

  Whitsunday.--

  I hardly know how to express my intense surprise and joy. Alfgar'sfather has returned--a Christian.

  While all the people were assembling for mass this morning, an agedman, clad in palmer's weeds, evidently worn by toil and travel, camefrom the bridge over the river, which has been rebuilt, towards theminster church, and entering, knelt down wrapt in devotion. Manyremarked his quaint attire; his face, once stern, now softened bygrace; his hair, once black as the raven's wing, now white as snow;his dark eyes gleaming beneath thick white eyebrows. I fear he causedmany wandering thoughts, and he would have caused yet more, could theyhave known that they beheld the penitent destroyer of the old hall andpriory.

  Now I preached, not knowing at the time who was amongst my hearers,from the words of Isaiah, "For thy waste and desolate places, and theland of thy destruction, shall even now be too narrow, by reason ofthe inhabitants, and they that swallowed thee up shall be far away.The children which thou shalt have, after thou hast lost the other,shall say again in thine ears. The place is too strait for me; giveplace to me, that I may dwell."

  Oh, how touching the words
seemed; for our waste and desolate placesare indeed peopled with joy and gladness, and many must have thoughtof dear Bertric, our martyr boy, when they heard those words, "thechildren which thou shalt have, after thou hast lost the other." Theyseemed a divine prophecy of joy and gladness unto us.

  And so I preached after this manner, and as I did so I saw thestranger was deeply moved, and marvelled who he could be, that heentered so deeply into so personal a sermon, which treated of apeculiar joy which a stranger intermeddleth not with.

  Now after the mass was ended, we came forth from the church, andAlfgar, with Ethelgiva, walked down the path to the Lychgate, whenAlfgar's eyes fell upon the stranger, whereupon, to our astonishment,he started, then stepped forward, fell on his knees, and cried, with achoked voice, "Father, your blessing!"

  At first we thought it was reverence, somewhat exaggerated, to apilgrim, but when the aged man cried aloud, "The God of Abraham blessthee, even thee, O my son!" and the tears streamed down the furrows ofhis aged cheeks, we knew it must be something more than this, and soit proved.

  It was none other than Anlaf--Anlaf who had disappeared from all theknowledge of friend or foe for ten years!

  We all received him, especially my brother Elfwyn, with great joy--forwe shared Alfgar's happiness--and we led him into the house, where wetendered him all the offices of hospitality.

  It was by degrees that we learned his story. He was really convertedto Christianity by the example of his son, whose words produced a fardeeper effect upon him than either he or Alfgar suspected at the time.

  And when he saw that son prefer a cruel death to apostasy, his heartwas moved--deeply moved, so that he pondered over all he had heardfrom him and from a once loved wife, whose words had seemed lost, butwhose prayers perhaps watered them into growth after she was dead andgone. So he left the army without telling any one whither he went, andsought instruction from a Christian.

  And he found a Christian priest hidden in the woods, where headministered the word and sacraments to a starving few, but secretly,for fear of the Danes; and from him he learned the truth and wasbaptized.

  Then, feeling himself unhappy in this distracted land--separated fromthe English by blood, from the Danes by religion--he determined to goon pilgrimage.

  Once in the Holy Land, he had to undergo much contumely from the paganSaracens, who, to the disgrace of Christendom, defile the Holy City bytheir presence, and maltreat the blessed pilgrims; but he had learnedto glory in humiliation. At last he retired to the woods on thesources of the Jordan, weary of earth, and there he joined an agedhermit, with whom he lived for two years, and when the hermit died hetook his place, and dwelt as an ascetic, ministering, however, to thenecessities of pilgrims who journeyed that way to the Holy Land.

  From some of these pilgrims he learned, at length, that English andDanes were united in peace, and a great desire of revisiting Englandand searching out his son seized upon him. On the road he heard thatEdmund was dead and Canute reigned alone, and so he came hither atonce, and has arrived, God so willing it, in time to see his sonmarried to the heiress of Aescendune.

  We have provided him lodgings in the priory. The new hall is not to bedwelt in till the night when the happy pair enter it and make it theirhome.

  Alfgar's cup of joy is full.

  Monday after the Whitsun Octave.--

  At last it is over. The weary waiting of ten years is ended. Alfgarand Ethelgiva are man and wife.

  Canute gave away the bride in person. Elfwyn, Hilda, Herstan, Bertha,and Hermann, with his sisters--indeed all the kindred of the bridewere there. Of the kindred of the bridegroom but one, so far as weknow, is living--his father Anlaf. It has been a warlike race, andnearly all the members of the family have found a warrior's grave.

  I performed the ceremony, assisted by all the brethren in the choralportions of the mass and the order of the marriage service. Ethelgivawas pale and composed although she shed a few natural tears, but wipedthem soon. Alfgar was simple and unaffected, as he always is. All hedoes is so naturally done. Like Nathaniel, he is a man without guile.

  The church was crowded. All the retainers and all the neighbours werepresent, and when the bride and bridegroom left the sacred building,they saluted them with cheers which made the welkin ring.

  Then the whole party adjourned to the hall, which was crowded to thefullest extent. And for the poorer guests, who could not findadmittance, tables were spread in the open air, beneath the shade ofspreading trees, for the day was lovely even for June.

  Canute remained throughout the entertainment, and, by his unaffectedcondescension and his cheerful sympathy, won the hearts of all. Hisgeneral demeanour tends to efface his foreign descent from the mind.Yet we sighed for Edmund, for which even Canute would pardon us. Heshould have presided at the board.

  When the night was far advanced the whole party broke up and retiredto rest, after a day calculated to efface the recollection of many ahardship past.

  For my part, when I returned to the priory, I mused for a long time onthe dark paths through which our Lord has conducted us to this happyday. I thought of the period of Alfgar's conversion and baptism, ofSt. Brice's night, for which England has paid so heavy a penance, now,we trust, happily over. And while I thus thought, my musings led me tothe tomb of Bertric, whose sacred relics, as those of a martyr, nowlie interred beneath our high altar, and I wondered whether hisblessed spirit could sympathise in our earthly joy. Yes; I doubt itnot; and that he witnesses it from above. Through suffering to joy hasbeen our lot; through suffering to glory his.

  Tuesday.--

  The king left this morning. His engagements are too numerous to permithim to give much space to recreation. Before he left he summonedAlfgar, Anlaf, and Elfwyn, to a conference in the library--for theyhave a library as of old in the hall--and then he told Alfgar that hehad talked with Anlaf who wished to convey the manorial rights of hisformer patrimony, and all its revenues, to his son, and to join ourbrotherhood, and that he desired him to witness the deed. Now, all theformer charters of Aescendune were destroyed in the old hall, and theking had caused a new one to be drawn up, supplying all the defectscaused by the loss of the earlier documents; conferring and securing,by royal charter, all the lands of Aescendune, and those formerlyappertaining to Anlaf, upon Alfgar, and his successors for ever, not,as he said, as a deed of gift, but as a charter securing and definingtheir rights and liberties, for him and his successors, to all futuregenerations; and adding all the waste land of the adjacent forest,formerly holden of the crown, to their domains, with right of alltemporal jurisdiction, and with the title of Earl, which title iscommon in the northern and more Danish districts, more so thanealdorman, which obtains in the south.

  "Thus much," said he, "I know my brother Edmund would have done foryou, and in his place it has fallen to my lot.

  "Would," he added, "I could be all to you which Edmund would have beenhad he lived; that, perhaps, is not possible; but I know, Alfgar," headded, "how to esteem faithfulness, even when it has been sometimesexercised at my expense, for one once a rival, now only thought of asa brother."

  Then he turned to Anlaf.

  "Old companion in arms," he said, "this makes up for Carisbrooke;well, Alfgar, hadst thou yielded then, thou hadst not been here now.Thy father and I owe thee something for the example thou didst setus."

  And then he turned to Elfwyn and wished him joy of his son.

  After that he came to the priory and prayed awhile in front of thealtar; his devotions ended, he came to my cell and made me a startlingoffer of a bishopric in Denmark, saying he thought there was much workto be done for God there, and he thought Englishmen would do it best;and thus, he added, after their Master's example, return good forevil {xx}.

  But an old oak such as I am cannot be uprooted, and perhaps it is acarnal feeling, but I fear my earthly affections bind me here whilelife lasts, so, thanking him warmly for the distinction implied in theoffer, I respectfully but firmly declined it.

  And so th
e king and his retinue left Aescendune. Elfwyn and Hildareturn in a few days to their happy valley; men have been at work forweeks making a good road there from the hall, and the journey willonly occupy two or three hours to a good walker.

  Herstan and his family leave for their home on the Thames (which hasbeen rebuilt, together with the little church of St. Michael)tomorrow. Anlaf takes his vows as a novice next Sunday, his novitiatewill be as short as the rules of our order allow; we shall all thenwelcome him as a brother.

  Soon our days will flow tranquilly on. May God mercifully continuepeace in our days.

  "Stablish the thing, O God, that thou hast wrought in us."

  Christmas, 1017.--

  Strange news greet our festival. Edric Streorn has gone suddenly,unhouselled, unanointed, unabsolved, to his great account. Hermann,who is now an officer in the royal hus-carles, has arrived from court,and from him we have learnt all particulars.

  Edric was alone with the king in a chamber overlooking the Thames.Hermann was on duty without, with some of the guard, when he heardvoices within in hot contention.

  "You will grant me no favour, not even the life of this traitor, who,I tell you, is conspiring against you, and desires to place Edwy, theEtheling, Edmund's brother, on the throne in your place."

  "Your proof lies, I suppose, in the hatred you have always borne him,"was the king's reply.

  Hermann could not help hearing, they spoke so loudly, but the nextwords enchained his attention.

  "I tell thee the name 'Alfgar' is first and foremost amongst thesignatures of the men who have conspired to cast thee from thethrone."

  "Then I conclude you placed it there; tush, man, I know thee of old!"

  "Why should you suspect this? was not he Edmund's faithful friend,worshipping him as a god, and would he not do all he could for hisbrother?"

  "I thought you held him guilty of Edmund's murder."

  "That was only because I wished to remove two enemies from your pathinstead of one you will not remove one from mine; lo! I forsook Edmundmy king for thy sake, and for thy sake I slew him, and thus thourewardest me."

  Then Canute waxed furious, and he shouted, "Guard! guard!"

  Hermann rushed in; and amongst others Eric, the Earl of Northumbria.

  "What, wretch! murderer! apostate blasphemer of the saints! didst thoumurder Edmund, my brother Edmund, who was dear to me as Jonathan toDavid, seeing we were bound to each other by an oath! Thou didststretch thy hand against the Lord's anointed, and thou shalt die thedeath.

  "Cut him down! cut him down, Eric! cut him down, Hermann."

  Eric stepped forward in an instant, and with his huge battle-axe cleftthe unhappy traitor, who had fallen to his knees to obtain mercy, fromthe head to the shoulders.

  "Throw the carcase out of window," cried the furious king; "let thefishes have the carrion. Never shall he find a grave, the vileregicide; and that he should think I would reward his guilt! Nay, Ihave served him as David did the Amalekite."

  Eric and Hermann, between them, raised the corpse, and flung it, allbleeding and disfigured, into the Thames, the tide just running outbeneath the walls.

  I ought to write, "So let all thine enemies perish, O Lord!" But theawful doom of his unrepentant soul saddens me, much as he has hated meand mine.

  Lent, 1018.--

  A strange discovery has been made which interests us all greatly. Atthe time of Alfgar's trial at Oxford, Herstan fancied there must be asecret staircase communicating with Edmund's room, but sought it invain. Now that Edric has avowed the deed, Hermann has obtained theking's permission to make a thorough search all through the house, andin the thickness of the huge stone chimney a secret staircase has beenfound, with a door opening through the thickness of the wall andpanelling into the room in which Edmund slept, as well as another dooropening into the banqueting hall, where Sigeferth and Morcar weremurdered. It is all clear as day now. Edric must have entered theroyal chamber from the banqueting hall in the dead of the night, andthus, when no human eye beheld, have accomplished his evil deed. Ah,well! he could not escape the eye of Him who has said "Vengeance ismine, I will repay."

  Eastertide, 1018--

  A son is born to Alfgar and Ethelgiva; and today, Low Sunday, theypresented their babe to Him who said, "Suffer little children to comeunto me." They have named him Edmund. The grandparents, both well andhappy, were present; and the proud and happy father's eyes sparkledwith joy over his little Edmund, glistening from the baptismal font.It fell to my happy lot thus to enrol the dear child amongst the lambsof Christ's fold. God grant him length of days here, and endlesslength of days beyond the skies when time shall be no more!

  . . . . . .

  Here we close our extracts from Father Cuthbert's Diary; but; beforetaking leave of him, we are sure our readers would like to hear a fewmore words about his future fortunes, and those of the house ofAescendune.

  Better king than Canute, saving only the great Alfred, and perhapsEdgar, had never sat on the English throne. Under his auspices achange became visible throughout the whole country: villages againgladdened the blackened wastes; minsters and churches were rebuilt,whose broad, square Saxon towers yet hand down the memory of ourancestors. Agriculture revived; golden corn covered the bloodstainedscenes of warfare; men lived once more in peace under the shadow oftheir homes, none daring to make them afraid. Peace, with its hallowedassociations, gladdened England for fifty long years {xxi}.

  Anlaf was the first of the group we have introduced to our readers toleave this transitory world for a better one. He died a few yearsafter the accession of Canute. Father Cuthbert survived him manyyears, and died honoured and lamented in the last year of the greatking.

  His brother Elfwyn, and the lady Hilda, full of years, having outlivedthe natural span of man's appointed years, followed him shortly--nottill they had seen their grandchildren, a numerous and hopefulprogeny, grow up around them, and so perpetuate their race upon earth.

  And for Alfgar and Ethelgiva, they lived to see a their children'schildren, and peace upon Israel, surviving until the close of thereign of Edward the Confessor, the son of Ethelred and Emma. Theirdays were days of peace, in strange contrast to their youthful years.

  "Peace! and no more from out her brazen portalsThe blast of war's great organ shakes the skies;But, beautiful as songs of the immortals,The holy harmonies of peace arise."--Longfellow.

  THE END.

  i Genealogy of Aescendune.

  The reader may be glad to have the genealogy of the family in whom ithas been the author's aim to interest him placed clearly before him.The following genealogical table, including the principal names in"The First Chronicle of Aescendune," as well as those in the presentbook, may suffice, the date of decease being given in each case.

  Offa, 940 * Oswald, 937. * Redwald, 959. * Ella, 959, m. Edith. + Elfric, 960. + Alfred, 998, m. Alftrude. o Elfric, 975. o Elfwyn, 1086, m. Hilda. # Bertric, 1006. # Ethelgiva, 1064 m. Alfgar. o Cuthbert, 1034. o Bertha, 1050 m. Herstan. + Edgitha, 990.

  ii Curse of Dunstan.

  "In the year of our Lord's incarnation 979, Ethelred, son of Edgar andElfrida, obtaining the kingdom, occupied, rather than governed it, forthirty-seven years. The career of his life is said to have been cruelin the beginning, wretched in the middle, and disgraceful in the end.Thus, in the murder to which he gave his concurrence he was cruel,base in his flight and effeminacy, miserable in his death.

  "The nobility being assembled by the contrivance of his mother, andthe day being appointed for Dunstan, in right of his see, to crownhim, he, though he might be ill-affected to them, forebore to resist,being a prelate of mature age well versed in secular matters. But,when placing the crown on his head, he could not refrain from givingvent, with a loud voice, to that prophetic spirit which he so deeplyimbibed. 'Since,' said he, 'thou hast aspired to the kingdom by thedeath of thy brother, hear the word of God. Thus saith the Lord God
:The sin of thy abandoned mother, and of the accomplices of her basedesign, shall not be washed out but by much blood of the wretchedinhabitants; and such evils shall come upon the English nation as theyhave never suffered from the time they came to England until then.'Nor was it long after, that is in his third year, that seven piraticalvessels came to Southampton, a port near Winchester, and havingravaged the coast fled back to the sea. This I think right to mention,because many reports are circulated among the English concerning thesevessels."--William of Malmesbury, English Chronicle, Bohn's Edition,pp.

  165-166.

  iii See "First Chronicle of Aescendune."

  iv Chronology of Father Cuthbert.

  The Christian era did not come in use until about the year 532, whenit was first introduced in the code of canon law compiled by DionysiusExiguus, and, even then, the year of the world was still frequentlyused, as in some cases in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. When at lengththe Christian computation became universal, some began the year withthe Incarnation (Christmas), others with the Annunciation; a customnot wholly abolished in England till 1752, when the "New Style," orGregorian Calendar, was introduced.

  But in the latter part of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, and the portionupon which our tale is based, the year invariably opens with theNativity--hence this reckoning has been used in the text, and theChristmas day in chapter 3 begins a new year.

  v Now Banbury.

  vi Death of St. Edmund.

  There are two stories (or more) concerning the Danish invasion inwhich the saintly Edmund met his death; the first, alluded to in thesong of the Etheling (chapter 11), tells how Ragnar Lodbrog, a greatsea king, invaded England, but his fleet being shattered by a storm,fell into the hands of Ella, King of Northumbria, who threw him into apit full of toads and serpents, where he perished, singing his deathsong to the last, and calling upon his sons to avenge his fate. Thosesons were Hinguar and Hubba. They invaded East Anglia after they hadavenged their father upon Ella, and King Edmund fought against them,but was taken prisoner. They offered him his life and throne if hewould forsake Christianity, and reign under them. But he steadfastlyrefused, whereupon they put him to death after the manner described inthe tale in the case of Bertric, while he called steadfastly uponChrist until his latest breath.

  The other tale, given at length by Roger Wendover, tells that RagnarLodbrog, with only his hawk in his hand, was driven by a storm to thecoast of East Anglia, that King Edmund made him his huntsman, but theformer huntsman, Beorn, slew him through jealousy; that King Edmundput Beorn bound in the boat which had brought Lodbrog over, and senthim adrift to perish at sea. But the storm in turn blew him toDenmark, where he told the sons of the man he had slain that Edmundhad murdered their father. Hence they came to avenge him. Theremainder of the tale agrees with the former narrative, and is theonly portion which certainly possesses historical truth.

  St. Edmund has been much venerated in the eastern counties, and hisshrine at Edmundsbury was greatly reverenced. The tale of the death ofSweyn, given in chapter 18, is a proof of this feeling, in whichperhaps the legend partly originated.

  vii The Rista Oern.

  This punishment was usual among the Northmen, and was called "at ristaoern," from the supposed resemblance of the victim to the figure of aneagle. The operation was generally performed by the chief himself. Itis thus described by Snorre:

  "Ad speciem aquilae dorsum ita ei laniabat, ut adacto ad spinamgladio, costisque omnibus ad lumbos usque a tergo divisis, pulmonesextraheret."--Snorre, p. 108.

  viii First appearance of Edmund.

  The first mention of Edmund in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle as thecommander of the English forces is A.D. 1015, where he was joined withEdric in the command, as related in the text, chapter 18. The date ofhis birth is uncertain, but the comparison of authorities appeared tothe author to justify the ascription of the character and actions,with which he is credited in the tale, to the English hero who firsttaught his generation to assert their equality with the fierce Danishinvaders.

  ix The appellations Wiltshire and Berkshire are of course of laterdate.

  x The early name of Abingdon.

  Johnson, the compiler of the famous collection of English canons, isof opinion that Cloveshoo, where the famous provincial council washeld A.D. 803, is identical with Abingdon, and that the town lost itsancient name simply owing to the growing notoriety of the famousabbey; for "no one," says he, "can doubt that the name Abingdon wastaken from the abbey." The first memorial, he adds, in which he findsthe name Abingdon, is in the Chronicle wherein the burial of BishopSidesman, A.D. 977, in St. Mary's Minster, "which is at Abingdon," ismentioned, who was honourably buried on the north side of that fane inSt. Paul's Chapel.

  On the other hand, some learned antiquarians have maintained theopposite opinion, that the name Abingdon existed even prior to thefoundation of the monastery; thus the Rev. Joseph Stevenson, in hisedition of the "Chronicle of the Abbey of Abingdon," says--"Abingdonderives its name, not, as might at first sight be supposed, from theabbey there founded--Abbey dune or Abbots dune: philology forbids it.The place was so called from Abba, one of the early colonists ofBerkshire."

  xi Bishops of Dorchester.

  There appears to have been much uncertainty concerning the successionof the bishops of this important see, owing, perhaps, to the confusioncaused by its having been the seat of two totally distinctjurisdictions--the one over Wessex, the other over great part ofMercia.

  The names of the bishops in the narrative are taken from a list kindlyfurnished by the Rev. W. Macfarlane, the present vicar of the AbbeyChurch, whose indefatigable efforts have restored to the ancient fanemuch of the glory of its ancient days.

  According to this list, Ednoth was bishop from 1006 to 1016, when hewas slain by the Danes as recorded in the text; and Ethelm succeeding,ruled the see till A.D. 1034, through the comparatively happy days ofCanute.

  xii End of the Campaign of 1006.

  The following extract from the "Anglo-Saxon Chronicle" gives thefurther history of the campaign very concisely:

  "Then went the Danes to Wallingford, and that all burned, and werethen one day in Cholsey: and they went then along Ashdown toCuckamsley hill, and there abode, as a daring boast; for it had beenoften said, if they should reach Cuckamsley hill, that they wouldnever again get to the sea: then they went homewards another way. Thenwere forces assembled at Kennet, and they there joined battle: andthey soon put that band to flight, and afterwards brought their bootyto the sea. But there might the Winchester men see an army daring andfearless, as they went by their gates towards the sea, and fetchedthemselves food and treasures over fifty miles from thence. Then hadthe king gone over Thames into Shropshire, and there took up his abodeduring the midwinter's tide. Then became the dread of the army sogreat, that no man could think or discover how they could be drivenout of the land, or this land maintained against them; for they hadevery shire in Wessex sadly marked by burning and by plundering. Thenthe king began earnestly with the witan to consider what might seemmost advisable to them all, so that this land might be saved, beforeit was utterly destroyed. Then the king and his witan decreed, for thebehoof of the whole nation, though it was hateful to them all, thatthey needs must pay tribute to the Danish army. Then the king sent tothe army, and directed it to be made known to them that he would thatthere should be a truce between them, and that tribute should be paid,and food given them. And then all that they accepted, and then werethey victualled from throughout the English nation."--Anglo-SaxonChronicle, Bohn's Edition.

  xiii This is copied almost verbatim from the Anglo-SaxonChronicle.

  xiv The account is taken almost verbatim from Florence ofWorcester.

  xv Children of Ethelred.

  By his two wives--(1) Aelfleda--(2) Emma, Ethelred had fourteenchildren, of whom only four or five have been mentioned in thisnarrative, or are of importance to the student--Edmund Ironside andhis brother Edwy (chapter 25), by Aelfleda, and Alfred and Edward byEmma--the last well known
in history as Edward the Confessor, andintroduced in Chapter XIX. of this tale. The following genealogicaltable from Edgar to the children of Edmund may be of use. It will beremembered that the lineage of the present royal house passes throughthe last-named son of Edmund Ironside to Egbert:

  Edgar * Edward the Martyr, d. 979. * Ethelred the Unready, d. 1016. + Edmund Ironside, 1016. o Edmund. o Edward, who became the great-grandfather of Henry the Second. + Edwy. + Elgitha. + Alfred, 1036. + Edward the Confessor, 1066.

  xvi Sceorstan.

  Antiquarians differ much about the site of this famous battle. Sharpthinks it was near Chipping Norton in Oxfordshire, and Thorpe, in hisnotes to "Florence of Worcester," says--"May not Chimney be the spot,a hamlet in Oxfordshire, in the parish of Bampton-in-the-Bush, nearthe edge of Gloucestershire, the name of Chimney being merely atranslation, introduced after the Norman Conquest, of Sceorstan, whichmay probably have owed its origin to a Saxon house or hall,conspicuous for having a chimney when that luxury was of rareoccurrence?" Others say that Sceorstan was not in Anglo-Saxon "achimney," but "a graven stone," and make the site that of a boundarystone, still separating the four counties of Oxford, Gloucester,Worcester, and Warwick, near Chipping Norton. Bosworth says it isSherston in Wilts.

  xvii Single Combat between Edmund and Canute.

  The following account is from Roger of Wendover:

  "A few days after this lamentable battle (Assingdun), in which so manynobles fell, King Edmund pursued Canute, who was now committingravages in Gloucestershire. The said kings therefore came together tofight at a place called Deerhurst, Edmund with his men being on thewest side of the river Severn, and Canute with his men on the east,both preparing themselves manfully for battle. When both armies werenow on the point of engaging, the wicked Earl Edric called togetherthe chiefs and addressed them as follows: 'Nobles and warriors, why dowe foolishly so often hazard our lives in battle for our kings, whennot even our deaths secure to them the kingdom, or put an end to theircovetousness? My counsel then is, that they alone should fight whoalone are contending for the kingdom; for what must be the lust ofdominion, when England, which formerly sufficed for eight kings, isnot now enough for two? Let them, therefore, either come to terms, orfight alone for the kingdom.' This speech pleased them all; and thedetermination of the chiefs being communicated to the kings, receivedtheir approbation. There is a small island called Olney, in the mouthof that river. Thither the kings, clad in splendid armour, crossedover, and commenced a single combat in the presence of the people.Parrying the thrust of the spear as well by their own skill as by theinterposition of their strong shields, they fought long and fiercelyhand to hand, his valour protecting Edmund, and his good fortuneCanute. The swords rung on their helmets, and sparks of fire flew fromtheir collision. The stout heart of Edmund was kindled by the act offighting, and as his blood grew warm his strength augmented; he raisedhis right hand, brandished his sword, and redoubled his blows on thehead of his antagonist with such vehemence, that he seemed rather tofulminate than to strike. Feeling his strength failing him, and unablelong to endure such an onset, Canute meditated peace; but as he wascrafty, and afraid lest if the youth perceived his weakness he wouldnot listen to his words of peace, drawing in all his breath he rushedon Edmund with wonderful valour, and immediately drawing back alittle, he asked him to pause awhile and give him audience. The latterwas of a courteous soul, and, resting his shield on the ground, helistened to the words of Canute, who thus proceeded: 'Hitherto I havecoveted thy kingdom, bravest of men; but now I prefer thyself not onlyto the kingdom of England, but to all the world. Denmark serves me,Norway yields me subjection, the King of Sweden has shaken hands withme; so that, although Fortune promises me victory everywhere, yet thywonderful manliness hath so won my favour, that I long beyond measureto have thee as friend and partner of my kingdom. I would that thou inlike manner wert desirous of me; that I might reign with thee inEngland, and thou walk me in Denmark.' Why should I add more? KingEdmund most graciously assented and yielded to his words, though hecould not be forced by arms. The kingdom was therefore, by Edmund'sdirection, divided between the two, the crown of the whole kingdomreverting to King Edmund. The whole of England, therefore, to thesouth of the river Thames, was ceded to him, with Essex and EastAnglia, and the city of London, the capital of the kingdom, Canuteretaining the northern parts of the kingdom. Laying aside, therefore,their splendid armour, the kings embraced each other amidst therejoicings of both the armies. They then exchanged their garments andarms in token of peace, and Edmund became Canute, and CanuteEdmund."--Roger of Wendover, Bohn's Edition.

  xviii The Death of Edmund.

  This lamentable occurrence is involved in much mystery. Edric Streornwas generally credited with the deed, although some writers, e.g.William of Malmesbury, think he used the aid of attendants on theking, whom he bribed. The Chronicle is silent as to details. Henry ofHuntingdon ascribes the deed to a son of Edric. Roger of Wendoveragrees with him, adding the facts that the place was Oxford, and thetime St. Andrew's night, as in the text. Amidst these conflictingstatements fiction perhaps most legitimately takes its place.

  xix The Ordeal.

  This ancient custom was observed by Simplicius, Bishop of Autun, soearly as the fourth century, and was very generally in use during theperiod of our tale. Although never formally recognised by the Churchof Rome, and forbidden by many edicts on the Continent, it wasadministered in England under the direction of the clergy, and itsdetails prescribed by the canons during a period extending from thelaws of Alfred to the directions given in the ecclesiastical laws ofEdward the Confessor, the year before the Norman Conquest, A.D. 1065.The first prohibition of its use in England is in the third year ofHenry the Third.

  There were three principal modes of its administration. In the first,the ordeal by water, the accused had to take a heavy piece of ironfrom a boiling cauldron placed in the church--in the second, to carrya bar of heated iron nine feet. The hand or arm was bound in linen,the bandage sealed by the priest, and on the third day the limb wasuncovered. If the burn or scald had healed the prisoner was pronouncedinnocent, otherwise he had to suffer the punishment due to hisoffence.

  The details given in the text are chiefly taken from the Canons ofAthelstane; but the mode of purgation therein described is similar tothat by which it is said Queen Emma repelled an accusation made byRobert, Bishop of London, in the year 1046. This mode ofadministration was perhaps more frequently used when a prompt appealwas needed to the judgment of God, or in the case of persons of rank,were they ever, as was seldom the case, compelled to appeal to itsdecision.

  xx It was a subject of complaint against Canute in Denmark that hegave away most of the bishoprics to Englishmen.

  xxi Character of Canute.

  The great change in Canute's character after his accession to thethrone has been noticed by all writers. Each year he seemed to grow inself-command and in the practice of virtue, while all men were edifiedby his strict attention to his religions duties. Later in life he madea pilgrimage to Rome, and a letter written thence gives a good idea ofhis general affection for his people. It is addressed to thearchbishops and bishops and great men, and to all the English people,and is written in the familiar style a father might use to hischildren, especially telling them all he had seen at Rome, and aboutthe way in which he spent Easter with Pope John and the Emperor, whomhe persuaded to abolish certain dues exacted from English pilgrims. Inthe last portion of the letter he tells them how he has made up hismind to amend his life in every way, and to atone for all the wrongscommitted in the violence of youth. He forbids any person to useviolence or to make the royal needs an excuse for wrongdoing, saying,"I have no need of money gathered by unrighteousness." He concludes bysaying that he is sure they will all be glad to hear how he has fared,and that they know he has not spared himself any trouble, and neverwill, to do all that lies in his power for the good of his people.

  There is
something in the whole tone of the letter which warms one'sheart towards the writer, and one cannot help contrasting the reignsof the two conquerors, Canute and William: the first, beginning withviolence and bloodshed, grew daily in justice, mercy, and the love ofGod, and so passed lamented to his grave; the latter, promising atfirst to govern justly, grew worse and worse in oppressive cruelty andall sorts of wrongdoing, until the sad and hopeless death scene in theabbey of St. Gervase. But the delineation of the latter period must bereserved, all being well, for the "Third Chronicle of Aescendune."

 
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net

Share this book with friends