ft 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 

 
 
 
 
 I
 
 LAST OF THE SAXON KINGS. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 HAROLD, 
 
 LAST OF THE SAXON KINGS; 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 " RIENZI ;" " THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 ETC. ETC. ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 SECOXD EDITION. 
 
 LONDON : 
 RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 
 
 1848.
 
 ION DON: 
 
 R. CLAY PKSXTER, BREAD 3THKET HILL
 
 Stack 
 Annex 
 
 A 
 
 \ 
 
 Y.) 
 
 THE Publication of this Work has 
 3n delayed some weeks, from respect to 
 
 domestic affliction of the distinguished 
 ithor. 
 
 IBW BURLINGTON STREET, 
 June 8, 1848. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 Scro 
 '5-JvC it . 
 
 RESERVE
 
 DEDICATORY EPISTLE 
 
 RIGHT HON. C. T. D'EYNCOURT, M.P. 
 
 I DEDICATE to you, my dear friend, a work, 
 principally composed under your hospitable 
 roof; and to the materials of which your 
 library, rich in the authorities I most needed, 
 largely contributed. 
 
 The idea of founding an historical romance 
 on an event so important and so national as 
 the Norman Invasion, I had long entertained, 
 and the chronicles of that time had long been 
 familiar to me. But it is an old habit of 
 mine, to linger over the plan and subject of 
 a work, for years, perhaps, before the work
 
 IV DEDICATORY EPISTLE. 
 
 has, in truth, advanced a sentence ; " busying 
 myself," as old Burton saith, " with this play- 
 ing labour otiosdque diligentid ut vitarem 
 torpor em feriandi" 
 
 The main consideration which long with- 
 held me from the task, was in my sense of the 
 unfamiliarity of the ordinary reader with the 
 characters, events, and, so to speak, with the 
 very physiognomy of a period ante Agam- 
 mennona ; before the brilliant age of matured 
 chivalry, which has given to song and romance 
 the deeds of the later knighthood, and the 
 glorious frenzy of the Crusades. The Norman 
 Conquest was our Trojan War; an epoch 
 beyond which our learning seldom induces our 
 imagination to ascend. 
 
 In venturing on ground so new to fiction, I 
 saw before me the option of apparent pedantry, 
 in the obtrusion of such research as might 
 carry the reader along with the Author, fairly 
 and truly into the real records of the time ; or 
 of throwing aside pretensions to accuracy alto-
 
 DEDICATORY EPISTLE. IX 
 
 gether ; and so rest contented to turn history 
 into flagrant romance, rather than pursue 
 my own conception of extracting its natural 
 romance from the actual history. Finally, not 
 without some encouragement from you, (where- 
 of take your due share of blame !) I decided 
 to hazard the attempt, and to adopt that mode 
 of treatment which, if making larger demand 
 on the attention of the reader, seemed the 
 more complimentary to his judgment. 
 
 The age itself, once duly examined, is full 
 of those elements which should awaken interest, 
 and appeal to the imagination. Not untruly 
 has Sismondi said, that "the Eleventh Century 
 has a right to be considered a great age. It 
 was a period of life and of creation ; all that 
 there was of noble, heroic, and vigorous in the 
 Middle Ages commenced at that epoch." * 
 But to us Englishmen in especial, besides the 
 more animated interest in that spirit of adven- 
 ture, enterprise, and improvement, of which 
 
 * SISMOXDI'S History of France, vol. iv. p. 484. 
 VOL. I. c
 
 X DEDICATORY EPISTLE. 
 
 the Norman chivalry was the noblest type, 
 there is an interest more touching and deep 
 in those last glimpses of the old Saxon mo- 
 narchy, which open upon us in the mournful 
 pages of our chroniclers. 
 
 I have sought in this work, less to portray 
 mere manners, which modern researches have 
 rendered familiar to ordinary students in our 
 history, than to bring forward the great 
 characters, so carelessly dismissed in the long 
 and loose record of centuries ; to shew more 
 clearly the motives and policy of the agents 
 in an event the most memorable in Europe ; 
 and to convey a definite, if general, notion of 
 the human beings, whose brains schemed, and 
 whose hearts beat, in that realm of shadows 
 which lies behind the Norman Conquest ; 
 
 " Spes hominum csecas, morbos, votumqi^, labores, 
 Et passim toto volitantes aethere curas."* 
 
 I have thus been faithful to the leading 
 
 * " Men's blieded hopes, diseases, toil, and prayer, 
 And winged troubles peopling daily air." ,
 
 DEDICATORY EPISTLE. XI 
 
 historical incidents in the grand tragedy of 
 Harold, and as careful as contradictory evi- 
 dences will permit, both as to accuracy in the 
 delineation of character, and correctness in that 
 chronological chain of dates without which 
 there can be no historical philosophy ; that is, 
 no tangible link between the cause and the 
 effect. The fictitious part of my narrative is, 
 as in " Rienzi," and the " Last of the Barons," 
 confined chiefly to the private life, with its 
 domain of incident and passion, which is the 
 legitimate appanage of novelist or poet. The 
 love story of Harold and Edith is told dif- 
 ferently from the well-known legend, which 
 implies a less pure connexion. But the whole 
 legend respecting the Edeva faira (Edith the 
 fair) whose name meets us in the " Domesday" 
 roll, rests upon very slight authority consider- 
 ing its popular acceptance ; and the reasons for 
 my alterations will be sufficiently obvious in a 
 work intended not only for general perusal, 
 but which on many accounts, I hope, may be
 
 SU DEDICATORY EPISTLE. 
 
 entrusted fearlessly to the young ; while those 
 alterations are in strict accordance with the 
 spirit of the time, and tend to illustrate one of 
 its most marked peculiarities. 
 
 More apology is perhaps due for the liberal 
 use to which I have applied the superstitions 
 of the age. But with the age itself those 
 superstitions are so interwoven they meet us 
 so constantly, whether in the pages of our 
 own chroniclers, or the records of the kindred 
 Scandinavians they are so intruded into the 
 very laws, so blended with the very life, of our 
 Saxon forefathers, that without employing 
 them, in somewhat of the same credulous 
 spirit with which they were originally con- 
 ceived, no vivid impression of the People they 
 influenced can be conveyed. Not without 
 truth has an Italian writer remarked, "that 
 he who would depict philosophically an unphi- 
 losophical age, should remember that, to be 
 familiar with children, one must sometimes 
 think and feel as a child."
 
 DEDICATORY EPISTLE. Xlll 
 
 Yet it has not been my main endeavour to 
 make these ghostly agencies conducive to the 
 ordinary poetical purposes of terror, and if that 
 effect be at all created by them, it will be, I 
 apprehend, rather subsidiary to the more histo- 
 rical sources of interest than, in itself, a leading 
 or popular characteristic of the work. My 
 object, indeed, in the introduction of the 
 Danish Vala especially, has been perhaps as 
 much addressed to the reason as to the fancy, 
 in shewing what large, if dim, remains of the 
 ancient ' heathenesse ' still kept their ground 
 on the Saxon soil, contending with and con- 
 trasting the monkish superstitions, by which 
 they were ultimately replaced. Hilda is not in 
 history ; but without the romantic impersona- 
 tion of that which Hilda represents, the history 
 of the time would be imperfectly understood. 
 
 In the character of Harold while I have 
 carefully examined and weighed the scanty 
 evidences of its distinguishing attributes which 
 are yet preserved to us and, in spite of no
 
 DEDICATORY EPISTLE. 
 
 unnatural partiality, have not concealed what 
 appear to me its deficiencies, and still less the 
 great error of the life it illustrates, I have at- 
 tempted, somewhat and slightly, to shadow out 
 the ideal of the pure Saxon character, such as it 
 was then, with its large qualities undeveloped, 
 but marked already by patient endurance, love 
 of justice, and freedom the manly sense of 
 duty rather than the chivalric sentiment of 
 honour and that indestructible element of 
 practical purpose and courageous will, which, 
 defying all conquest, and steadfast in all peril, 
 was ordained to achieve so vast an influence 
 over the destinies of the world. 
 
 To the Norman Duke, I believe, I have been 
 as lenient as justice will permit, though it is as 
 impossible to deny his craft, as to dispute his 
 genius ; and, so far as the scope of my work 
 would allow, I trust that I have indicated fairly 
 the grand characteristics of his countrymen, 
 more truly chivalric than their lord. It has hap- 
 pened, unfortunately for that illustrious race of
 
 DEDICATORY EPISTLE. XV 
 
 men, that they have seemed to us, in England, 
 represented by the Anglo-Norman kings. The 
 fierce and plotting William, the vain and 
 worthless Rufus, the cold-blooded and relentless 
 Henry, are no adequate representatives of the 
 far nobler Norman vavasours, whom even the 
 English Chronicler admits to have been " kind 
 masters," and to whom, in spite of their kings, 
 the after liberties of England were so largely 
 indebted. But this work closes on the Field 
 of Hastings ; and in that noble struggle for 
 national independence, the sympathies of every 
 true son of the land, even if tracing his lineage 
 back to the Norman victor, must be on the 
 side of the patriot Harold.* 
 
 In the notes, which I have thought necessary 
 aids to the better comprehension of these 
 volumes, my only wish has been to convey to 
 
 * If this tale meet with the same indulgent favour as the 
 " Last of the Barons," I may, perhaps, presume farther into 
 the wide field thus opened. A series of fictions genuinely 
 illustrating our earlier history through its romance might be 
 rendered no unprofitable accompaniment to the history itself.
 
 XVI DEDICATORY EPISTLE. 
 
 the general reader such illustrative informa- 
 tion as may familiarize him more^ easily with 
 the subject-matter of the book, or refresh 
 his memory on incidental details not without 
 a national interest. In the mere references 
 to authorities I do not pretend to arrogate to 
 a fiction the proper character of a history; 
 the references are chiefly used either where 
 wishing pointedly to distinguish from invention 
 what was borrowed from a chronicle, or, when 
 differing from some popular historian to whom 
 the reader might be likely to refer, it seemed 
 well to state the authority upon which the 
 difference was founded.* 
 
 In fact, my main object has been one that 
 compelled me to admit graver matter than 
 is common in romance, but which I would 
 fain hope may be saved from the charge of 
 dulness by some national sympathy between 
 author and reader ; my object is attained, and 
 
 * Notes less immediately necessary to the context, or too 
 long not to interfere with the current of the narrative, are 
 thrown to the end of each volume.
 
 DEDICATORY EPISTLE. XV11 
 
 attained only, if in closing the last page of this 
 work, the reader shall find, that in spite of the 
 fictitious materials admitted, he has formed a 
 clearer and more intimate acquaintance with a 
 time, heroic though remote, and characters 
 which ought to have a household interest to 
 Englishmen, than the succinct accounts of the 
 mere historian could possibly afford him. 
 
 Thus, my dear D'Eyncourt, under cover of 
 an address to yourself, have I made to the 
 Public those explanations which authors in 
 general, (and I not the least so,) are often over- 
 anxious to render. 
 
 This task done, my thoughts naturally fly 
 back to the associations I connected with your 
 name when I placed it at the head of this 
 epistle. Again I seem to find myself under 
 your friendly roof; again to greet my provi- 
 dent host entering that gothic chamber in 
 which I had been permitted to establish my 
 unsocial study, heralding the advent of ma- 
 jestic folios, and heaping libraries round the
 
 XV111 DEDICATORY EPISTLE. 
 
 unworthy work. Again, pausing from my 
 labour, I look through that castle casement, 
 and beyond that feudal moat, over the broad 
 landscapes, which, if I err not, took their name 
 from the proud brother of the Conqueror him- 
 self : or when, in those winter nights, the grim 
 old tapestry waved in the dim recesses, I hear 
 again the Saxon thegn winding his horn at the 
 turret door, and demanding admittance to the 
 halls from which the prelate of Bayeux had so 
 unrighteously expelled him* what marvel, 
 that I lived in the times of which I wrote, 
 Saxon with the Saxon, Norman with the Nor- 
 man that I entered into no gossip less vene- 
 rable than that current at the Court of the 
 Confessor, or startled my fellow-guests (when 
 I deigned to meet them) with the last news 
 which Harold's spies had brought over from 
 the Camp at St. Valery ? With all those folios, 
 
 * There is a legend attached to my friend's house, that on 
 certain nights in the year, Eric the Saxon winds his horn 
 at the door, and, in forma spectri, serves his notice of eject- 
 ment.
 
 DEDICATORY EPISTLE. XIX 
 
 giants of the gone world, rising around me 
 daily, more and more, higher and higher Ossa 
 upon Pelion on chair and table, hearth and 
 floor; invasive as Normans, indomitable as 
 Saxons, and tall as the tallest Danes (ruthless 
 host, I behold them still!) with all those 
 disburied spectres rampant in the chamber, 
 all the armour rusting in thy galleries, all those 
 mutilated statues of early English kings (in- 
 cluding St. Edward himself) niched into thy 
 grey, ivied walls say, in thy conscience, O 
 host, (if indeed that conscience be not wholly 
 callous !) shall I ever return to the nineteenth 
 century again ? 
 
 But far beyond these recent associations of 
 a single winter (for which heaven assoil thee !) 
 goes the memory of a friendship of many win- 
 ters, and proof to the storms of all. Often 
 have I come for advice to your wisdom, and 
 sympathy to your heart, bearing back with 
 me, in all such seasons, new increase to that 
 pleasurable gratitude which is, perhaps, the
 
 XX DEDICATORY EPISTLE. 
 
 rarest, nor the least happy sentiment, that 
 experience leaves to man. Some differences, 
 it may be, whether on those public questions 
 which we see, every day, alienating friend- 
 ships that should have been beyond the reach 
 of laws and kings ; or on the more scholastic 
 controversies which as keenly interest the minds 
 of educated men, may at times deny to us the 
 idem velle, atque idem nolle ; but the vera ami- 
 citia needs not those common links : the sun- 
 shine does not leave the wave for the slight 
 ripple which the casual stone brings a moment 
 to the surface. 
 
 Accept, in this dedication of a work which 
 has lain so long on my mind, and been en- 
 deared to me from many causes, the token of an 
 affection for you and yours, strong as the ties 
 of kindred, and lasting as the belief in truth. 
 
 E. B. L. 
 
 March 1st, 1848.
 
 CRITICAL OPINIONS OF THIS WORK. 
 
 THE ATLAS. 
 
 THE last struggle of the old Saxon monarchy is one of the most 
 affecting passages in our annals. History has given us but a 
 skeleton map of the time. The Saxon man in his sturdy in- 
 tegrity, standing between the dim superstitions of the north and 
 the spreading enlightenment of Christianity, the firm asserter of 
 liberty, with a tincture of the old sea-kings in his blood, and the 
 Teutonic gravity in his temperament, has never been brought out 
 with the distinctness which the speciality of his character, and the 
 influence which it exercises to this hour over the mixed races that 
 have succeeded him, demand and deserve. In the portrait Sir 
 Bulwer Lytton has drawn of Harold he has discharged one of the 
 highest functions of history, in a spirit of philosophy teaching 
 through the medium of romance. Hastily running over the most 
 prominent historical personages whose careers have been lighted up by 
 his genius, we cannot recall one in which he has been so completely 
 successful. Out of the slenderest materials, perplexed by con- 
 jectures and contradictions, he has created a figure which embodies 
 the features of the age, and realizes its contrasts of moral grandeur 
 and imperfect civilization with instinctive truth. The foundations 
 of the romance are sunk in extensive research, and every page 
 displays an intimate knowledge of the condition of the people, the 
 minutest facts of their progress and their modes of life, and the 
 distant genealogies through which they inherited their customs 
 and their glories. The strict fidelity with which the authorities 
 are sifted and followed is not less admirable than the entire absence 
 of pedantry in the treatment. The story, carrying a rich freight of 
 historic circumstances on its surface, flows on with the fascination 
 of a minstrel's lay of chivalry and love. 
 
 Sir Bulwer Lytton judiciously exercises the privilege of fiction in 
 B
 
 2 CRITICAL OPINIONS. 
 
 giving to the loves of Harold and Edith a different colouring to that 
 which is darkly ascribed to them by contemporary annalists. The 
 pure love that grows up between them is of the most ennobling kind, 
 and maintains its chastening influence over the heart and intellect of 
 Harold throughout the stormy and chequered scenes in which his life 
 is passed. The nobility of his character is not that of the mere hero. 
 He has the faults of the man tendernesses and weaknesses which 
 sometimes make him hesitate, but which are always reconciled to 
 our admiration by his inflexible patriotism and his love of truth 
 and justice. His power grows upon the reader as it grew upon the 
 people in his own day ; and we see, amidst conflict and confusion, 
 how it was he rose without intrigue or the desires of a false ambition 
 to that height of authority, which at the death of the king placed 
 the crown upon his head with the unanimous accord of the nation. 
 The episode of the expedition in which Harold engages to punish 
 the insolent hordes of Welsh marauders on the English borders, 
 is so bold and picturesque that, although unable to present its 
 most striking features, we cannot resist the following view of the 
 stronghold of King Gryffyth, on the heights of Penmaen-mawr, to 
 the final pinnacle of which he has been hunted and reduced by the 
 victorious arms of Harold. . . . We have not attempted to follow the 
 progress of the story ; but the main thread of the interest may be 
 traced through the passages we have given. For the rest, and the 
 tragic conclusion of all on the battle-field, it is unnecessary to refer 
 the reader to a work which he will be eager enough to get into his 
 hands from what we have already said. 
 
 The portraiture of the times and the characterization of the 
 principal men who made its history, may be cited amongst the 
 noblest triumphs of this class of romance. With the enchantment 
 of romance it blends the dignity and weight of history. The 
 character of William is drawn with great truth and power, and 
 skilfully distinguished in its craftiness and treachery from the 
 franker bearing and more honourable nature of the Norman chivalry 
 whose gallantry helped him to the crown of England. But, as we 
 have already indicated, the character of Harold is the masterpiece 
 of the work. 
 
 THE BRITANNIA. 
 
 We are glad to meet Sir Edward again in the field of historical 
 romance. The same sense of justice which compelled us to condemn 
 his "Lucretia" prompts us to the much more pleasing office of 
 acknowledging the merit of his " Harold." He is too distinguished 
 a writer for his example to be overlooked, whether it be for good or 
 evil. In this romance the author has revived the age of the Con- 
 quest. Taking his facts, his characters, and his manners from the
 
 CRITICAL OPINIONS. 3 
 
 most authentic sources of knowledge, he has combined them with 
 dramatic power into a splendid and effective narrative. It is indeed 
 a narrative of extraordinary interest as well as of extraordinary 
 ability ; and the greater part of it is written in a style of historic de- 
 scription, the broadest, the most picturesque, and the most glowing 
 that can be conceived. The opening is highly effective. . . . The in- 
 terest of the romance, so far as it depends on fiction, turns wholly on 
 the love between Edith and Harold. Motives of state policy require 
 Harold to sacrifice his inclination to the interest of his country ; but 
 in heart they are true to each other. After the defeat of Harold, 
 William resolves that the body of Harold, as dishonoured and 
 accursed, shall have no sepulchre. To alter his cruel determination 
 Edith has her second view of the Conqueror. 
 
 The narrative of the great battle which gave a Norman dynasty to 
 England is in the author's highest and most finished style. Were it 
 but for that chapter alone, this romance would command and deserve 
 the general perusal we do not doubt it will meet with, not from the 
 frequenters of circulating libraries alone, but from that higher class 
 of readers who love to see grand themes grandly treated, and who 
 believe the genius of the literary artist cannot be more worthily 
 employed than in illustrating the most memorable events of national 
 history. 
 
 Since the " Flodden " of Scott, we do not know that any finer picture 
 of strife has been produced than this description of Hastings. Both, 
 though in widely different styles, must be placed among the finest 
 examples of epic romance. . . . We are quite sure that in any future 
 estimate of Sir Edward Lytton's productions none will stand higher 
 for distinguished ability and matured powers of thought and com- 
 position. 
 
 THE MORNING CHEONICLE. 
 
 This brilliant work will unquestionably not detract from the 
 reputation of one of the most popular and successful cultivators of 
 historic fiction. The author of "Harold" has pitched his aim 
 high ; and in many important respects he has worthily achieved 
 what he has nobly designed. We have no hesitation in assigning 
 to "Harold, the Last of the Saxon Kings," an honourable place 
 among those prose epics which have for their object to embody 
 the spirit of an heroic age, and to present a life-like and truthful 
 delineation of heroic events. The fundamental condition of his 
 enterprise a close and patient study of the times that he seeks 
 to reproduce Sir Bulwer Lytton has, beyond a question, faith- 
 fully performed. Nothing can be more powerfully told than the 
 history of that fatal oath by which, after long years of waiting 
 and scheming, the Norman entangled his rival in the meshes of
 
 4 CRITICAL OPINIONS. 
 
 an engagement that could not be broken without rank sacrilege. 
 What, however, strikes us as the feature of this Work is the extreme 
 elicity of its portraitures of the general state of England during 
 the last years of the Saxon dynasty. The author completely 
 succeeds in placing his reader in the heart of that old time, when 
 even Druidism, though dead, was not quite buried when the Roman 
 stratum of British History was still conspicuous in a thousand 
 architectural monuments long since mouldered away, such as " the 
 ruins of the vast temple of Diana," surrounding "the humble and 
 barbarous church of St. Paul," when the Hall and Abbey of West- 
 minster were rising amid "the brakes and briars of the Isle of 
 Thorney," and on the site of the Temple of Apollo and when the 
 " English people " could hardly be said to be more than a geo- 
 graphical expression for an imperfectly-fused aggregate of Danes, 
 Saxons, and Celtic aborigines. There are large portions of these 
 volumes which might be not inaptly intitled, " Vestiges of the 
 natural history of the creation of the English people," so truthful 
 and suggestive are the allusions to that mixture of diverse and 
 antagonistic races out of which our English nationality has 
 gradually grown, and which, even to this day, has not reached the 
 
 point of absolute fusion 
 
 We have done but imperfect justice to the numberless excellences 
 of this really great work ; but must close our notice by offering him 
 our best thanks for the valuable production with which he has fur- 
 ther enriched a literature that is already deeply indebted to his 
 genius expressing, at the same time, our cordial satisfaction at 
 learning that he contemplates renewed labours in this field. There 
 will be Very few readers of '' Harold " who will not be gratified 
 at being able to anticipate, from the pen of its accomplished author, 
 " a series of fictions genuinely illustrating our early history through 
 its romance." 
 
 THE EXAMINER. 
 
 No grander subject of contemplation, either for tragic interest or 
 historic importance, can be conceived, than the last years of the 
 Saxon monarchy in England ; and there are few subjects which it 
 more behoves Englishmen to understand, or which, up to a very 
 recent time, they have had such imperfect means of understanding. 
 " Harold " is a most valuable and scholarlike contribution in aid of 
 that right understanding of our early history. It is due to the 
 writer so to speak of it, before we describe its qualities as a romance. . 
 
 In " Harold," as in " Rienzi," and " The Last of the Barons," we 
 have a subject of the highest order in history treated in a manner 
 worthy of the theme. If we think the latest of the three in some 
 historical respects the masterpiece, it is because its difficulties were
 
 CRITICAL OPINIONS. O 
 
 greater. A successful effort to master them implied that wider and 
 deeper range of knowledge, which in its turn has brought a more 
 perfect facility in the use of the materials acquired. The ro- 
 mantic interest of the book, always in progress, becomes at the last 
 very strong and full, and serves to make more vivid the impression 
 which before every other would seem to have been intended by the 
 novelist, of the actual men and motives which governed this parti- 
 cular period of history. No one hitherto uninstructed in Saxon 
 story, will lay down " Harold" without the wish to travel farther in 
 the field it opens. We never saw the distinction better marked in 
 any book of its class, between history turned into romance, and the 
 romance of true history. The interest is at its full when " Harold " 
 closes. We never laid down a book more reluctantly. The fiction 
 has but created a healthy appetite for fact, the relish to ascertain and 
 understand yet more. 
 
 " Harold " is as finely done as any character we can remember in 
 the range of historic fiction. Into the grand, cold, still lines of 
 history, is breathed the breath of life, full, high-hearted, brave. 
 The great power of the book is its various and subtle characteriza- 
 tion of the rude elements of contending barbarism and civilization 
 in the midst of which its events are laid. The romantic brilliancy, 
 the gay wit, the daring adventure of the Norman knights, are 
 seen to have kindred alliance with the solid worth, the rough 
 good-fellowship, the broad frank humour of the Saxon thanes. NOT 
 do we lose this masterly discrimination, this fine dramatic genius, 
 even in the wild Welsh marches, or among the sea- washed hut- 
 palaces of Norway. Let us show this in two striking scenes. The 
 first exhibits the Welsh king Gryffyth, hunted by Harold to his 
 last lair of fortified retreat at the summit of Penmaenmawr, and 
 brooding over the doom which his last defeat had rendered certain. 
 Let us remark, that in all the scenes devoted to this fierce high- 
 hearted chieftain, Sir Edward Lytton has given free play to the 
 most powerful characteristics of his genius. We remember nothing 
 finer in all his writings. We cannot quote, as we could have wished, 
 from the minute and spirited narrative of the battle of Hastings, 
 where the interest rises and falls, and sways the reader's emotion, 
 as though the issues were not already known, or might yet by possi- 
 bility be averted. 
 
 DOUGLAS JERROLD'S NEWSPAPER. 
 
 It is with real pleasure that we introduce to our readers' notice 
 a new historical romance by an old master. . . . We presume there 
 can be but one answer to the question, " Is Bulwer an artist in 
 historical fiction 1 ?" If, however, there be sceptical critics, who 
 refuse so high a title to the author of " Rienzi," and " The Last of
 
 6 CRITICAL OPINIONS. 
 
 he Barons," we do not hesitate to say that their critical faculty is at 
 fault if they do not award it to the author of " Harold." 
 
 " Harold, the Last of the Saxon Kings," is a noble production of 
 a brilliant but matured intellect. The dramatic power throughout 
 is strong and vivid, but there is no straining after effect ; all the 
 striking positions arise naturally, and nearly all are historically true. 
 There is a thorough nationality a genuine English spirit prevalent 
 in the book. All the great historic characters, Harold, his father, his 
 brothers, the Confessor, William the Conqueror, Lanfranc, Harold 
 Hardrada, the erratic Norwegian monarch, are all flesh and blood 
 substantialities ; so, likewise, are the more indistinct and traditionary 
 or purely imaginary creations. 
 
 The story of " Harold " is in itself epic, drama, ode, and elegy ; and 
 it has lost nothing by a careful adherence to historic truth on the part 
 of the present author. This true story, illustrated by a powerful and 
 brilliant imagination, claims the attention of all Englishmen ; it is 
 a tale which throws light upon an age more important than almost 
 any other in the formation of our people, our language, laws, and 
 institutions ; an age which has until lately been hidden from 
 the gaze of any but the most persevering students of antiquity. 
 
 We cannot point out any portion of this brilliant and truthful 
 romance as deficient in interest ; it is all full of matter that comes 
 home to us all. The half-savage Welsh King Gryffyth in his fastness 
 of Penmaen Mawr is as fine a sketch of indomitable and uncivi- 
 lised royalty as ever emanated from pen or pencil ; and the fair 
 fierce Scandinavian Hardrada, the favourite of the Greek Empress and 
 the conqueror of Asian and African nations, is a wild and vivid por- 
 trait, which we recognise as true the moment it is fairly before us. 
 
 The author we hope will follow up this, his best historic romance, 
 with another, illustrative of this comparatively little known age, 
 which he has studied so diligently and to so good a purpose. 
 
 THE SUNDAY TIMES. 
 
 Sir Bulwer Lytton belongs to that class of men who estimate 
 learning at its proper value ; who know what it is to be wise, and 
 profit by the lessons of wisdom. He writes as a man conscious 
 of his power boldly, fearlessly, and splendidly. He has not sick- 
 ened us with hearing his name dinned into our ears, with every two 
 or three months a new novel. The sound sweeps by at distant 
 intervals. We feel then a certainty that he has achieved something 
 worthy of notice, of admiration, or he would not usher it into the 
 world. Whatever be his choice of subject, whatever the characters 
 he has to pourtray, he is never tame nor weak. He seems to embel- 
 lish the time and people of which he treats. Most persons appre-
 
 CRITICAL OPINIONS. 7 
 
 bended that " The Last of the Barons " would have proved the last 
 of his novels ; but, though long absent from the literary arena, he 
 re-appeared upon it, if possible, better prepared than before. " Ha- 
 rold," as may be easily imagined from the name, is a tale pitched 
 far back in the history of England in, to use the words of our 
 author, the realm of shadows which lies behind the Norman Conquest. 
 
 The moment we open " Harold " we seem to be able to re- 
 animate those periods with life, to re-people the since home-built 
 fields and woods with a race in accordance with the times, and to 
 sympathise with their actions and feelings. Sir Bulwer Lytton has, 
 with a master hand, transported us into the midst of the feuds and 
 disturbances, the superstitions and bigotries, which belonged to 
 those '' dark ages." We forget that we are looking into the past, and 
 scrutinising the actions of men so far removed from our censure, but 
 enter into the feelings of the period, and look with their eyes upon 
 all around us. The author's object has certainly to a great extent 
 been accomplished. The reader who carefully peruses this work 
 cannot fail to obtain a correct idea of the history of a time, heroic 
 though remote, and characters which ought to have a household 
 interest to Englishmen. In Harold our author has produced a 
 very splendid hero. He continues to secure our sympathies to the 
 last; but there is so much gentleness blended with his bravery, so 
 much devotion and disinterestedness, that we hang over his fate with 
 regret. Edith is a noble girl ; with every attribute of the woman, 
 she is yet determined, and as firm as a rock when occasion demands 
 it. The generous sacrifice she makes raises her to the highest pitch 
 of womanly excellence. Few writers possess the power of delineating 
 the female character so well as Sir Bulwer Lytton. He has succeeded 
 beyond his hopes in Edith, who will be admired by every reader. 
 An air of classical elegance pervades the pages of the work, which 
 would stamp it as the production of a superior mind, were we uncon- 
 scious of the source whence it proceeded. 
 
 " Harold" is, undoubtedly, the most masterly production of the 
 season ; profoundly philosophical, it is yet to be appreciated and 
 understood by the most simple comprehension. 
 
 THE ILLUSTRATED LONDON NEWS. 
 
 The plot of this romance is, to a certain extent, marked out; 
 so that there is a comparatively narrow field for the author's imagi- 
 nation ; still, wherever this occurs, we have intense passion and 
 glowing beauty. The narrative is skilfully and powerfully wrought 
 up. The work indeed is full of varied entertainment, as well as 
 that which history teacheth, philosophy by example.
 
 CRITICAL OPINIONS. 
 
 THE GUARDIAN. 
 
 The author, like the statesman, clings to the last to the field of 
 his fame. Both sometimes think they have worked their work and 
 earned their rest, and please themselves for a while with the fancied 
 enjoyment of an unbroken quiet. Probably no one put much faith 
 in the announcement, when Bulwer, some years ago, bade farewell 
 to the public in the " Last of the Barons." A writer so powerful and 
 so popular as Sir E. L. Bulwer, whom even the abstruse Germans 
 condescend to recognise and admire, was not likely to retire in hia 
 vigour from the arena. 
 
 Throughout " Harold" there breathes a wholesome, manly energy, 
 a calm and sober vigour. It combines considerable research and 
 study with a genuine effort to fall into the spirit of the age de- 
 lineated, and to scan it with the bold glance of an actor in the scene, 
 instead of viewing it through the prejudices, often narrow and un- 
 reasonable, of our distant time. In the present case, the materials 
 are rich and varied, the picture graphic and striking. The blunt and 
 simple Saxon, peace-loving, though plain-spoken, stands out in strong 
 contrast with the polished Norman, chivalric, astute, and grasping ; 
 while a dark Scandinavian background of fierce, half-heathen Danes 
 and Norsemen, throws its dark shadows over the nearer figures. 
 The character and working of the Saxon monarchy is brought out 
 with considerable skill. We are introduced into Court and Witan, 
 and become familiar with the great earldoms, which, ever since the 
 Heptarchy, divided this Island into petty principalities, scarce deign- 
 ing to recognise their common head in the King at London, except" 
 when the crown rested on a wiser brow, or the sceptre was swayed by 
 a stronger hand. Nor is there any lack of distinctive and sustained 
 character in the actors. The real piety of the Confessor is fairly 
 allowed, as some compensation for his indifference to the material 
 welfare of his state. The great Earl Godwin, crafty and impene- 
 trable, though with all the outward tokens of English heartiness and 
 simplicity, well sustains that mingled character of good and evil 
 which so often perplexes us in history. His seven sons have each 
 their separate portraits ; but it is on Harold that most labour has 
 been bestowed. His character is confessedly an ideal one ; there is 
 little by which to track it in history ; but, without this confession, it 
 would not be difficult to recognise it as a creation of Bulwer's. With 
 many variations, it is yet cast in his favourite mould. It is Ernest 
 Maltravers without his lofty scorn, Eugene Aram without his deadly 
 crime. There is the self-same reliance, the same aspirations after a 
 sort of stoical perfection, but tempered, in Harold, as the notion of 
 the Saxon character requires, with much more of simple human 
 affection and homely joy. In him too, as in Ernest Maltravers, the 
 philosophy proves insufficient for the man. The self-relying soul is
 
 CRITICAL OPINIONS. 9 
 
 tempted by ambition, dimmed by superstition, falls in the moment 
 of trial, and its clear vision is overcast by the cloud of sin. But the 
 philosophy is replaced by faith, he rises again into the clear day, and 
 works his way, though in torture and anguish, like the Red Cross 
 Knight in the " House of Holinesse," to his destined goal. All earthly 
 prospects are closed for him ; his country becomes his only mistress 
 and his only motive ; the darkening shadows close round him till 
 they wrap him in perfect night on the field of Hastings. Grandeur 
 and strength are evident in this story, which is skilfully worked 
 together. 
 
 THE MORNING ADVERTISER. 
 
 The author has been in the present instance peculiarly happy in 
 an elaborate picture of an interesting and important epoch of our 
 national history. To Englishmen it must possess especial interest, 
 presenting as it does " those last glimpses of the old Saxon monarchy, 
 which open upon us in the mournful pages of our chroniclers." 
 It is from such promising and highly attractive materials that the 
 present delightful and elegant work .... To the admirers of 
 romance, the love story of Harold and Edith will possess great 
 and powerful attraction. It is exquisitely and touchingly told, 
 and is full of passages of beauty and pathos. We shall not attempt 
 to present even a slight sketch of the tale : it would be useless and 
 it would not be desirable ; because the entertainment to be derived 
 from perusal of the work would only be interfered with, and some- 
 what marred by any previous knowledge of the conclusion of the nar- 
 rative. Harold stands forth with noble dignity. He is pictured in 
 masterly style, and the different phases of his character are minutely 
 and truthfully drawn. The change which comes over his spirit 
 when ambition has once been kindled in his breast, is finely 
 sketched ; and its effect in corrupting the genuine simplicity of 
 his earlier nature is admirably exhibited. Indeed, the volumes 
 abound in these exquisite glimpses of human nature, and of the 
 operation of surrounding circumstances thereupon. They manifest 
 the observation of the author, and the success with which he has 
 studied men. The companion picture, of Edith, the heroine the 
 lovely and the loving, the pure, exalted, devoted, patriotic, and self- 
 sacrificing Edith is remarkably sweet, engaging, impressive, and 
 affecting. It is well worthy of one who has added so many exqui- 
 site female creations to the store of fiction. The whole work is 
 crowded with historical figures, all adding interest and richness to 
 this glowing romance of the Norman Conquest. The historical 
 details are narrated in eloquent and highly affecting language ; the 
 descriptive passages are singularly rich, picturesque, and beautiful.
 
 10 CRITICAL OPINIONS. 
 
 By this masterly production Sir Bulwer Lytton has earned for 
 himself a further and powerful claim to the long-enduring and most 
 honourable fame among the great imaginative writers of our 
 country. 
 
 THE ATHENAEUM. 
 
 In this new romance we draw particular attention to the descrip- 
 tion of all that relates to the war of Harold against Gryffyth, in 
 Wales, which is unsurpassed in interest and power by anything 
 from the pen of Sir Bulwer Lytton. We know nothing much more 
 animating and inspiring than the whole that relates to Gryffyth, hia 
 struggles, his defeats, and his sufferings. 
 
 THE SUN. 
 
 In a work so remarkable as " Harold," perhaps the most in- 
 teresting feature is the power displayed by the author in his 
 portraiture of renowned characters. The epoch of Harold the 
 Dauntless and of William the Conqueror, is one of a very singular 
 and august character; it is one the mere remembrance of which, 
 after the lapse of nearly eight centuries, is fraught with so much 
 that is noble, grand, heroic, and unfortunate, on the part of our 
 Saxon ancestors, as well as with so much that is glorious, daring, 
 and successful, on the part of our Norman forefathers, that it 
 inflames the heart, and arouses the sympathies, and elevates the 
 patriotism of the most phlegmatic. " Harold," if not the greatest, 
 is assuredly one of the greatest works yet written by Sir Bulwer 
 Lytton. And already he has written with an eloquence, and a 
 versatility, and an erudition, and an inspiration the inspiration of 
 a scholarly and cultivated genius such as have placed his name 
 conspicuously in the foremost rank of modern English literature. 
 
 THE WEEKLY CHRONICLE. 
 
 To the last page we read " Harold" with interest. It has realised 
 and even surpassed our hopes we give it a hearty, unequivocal 
 welcome. It was natural to look for a skilful achievement at the 
 hands of the author of the " Last of the Barons." He had already 
 dealt with English history in a way to show that he comprehended 
 its spirit, and was able to fix and vivify its details. But the subject
 
 CRITICAL OPINIONS. 11 
 
 now chosen was~peculiar full of difficulties, and made demands on 
 powers and capacities yet undisplayed. The time so remote!, the 
 features of the actors so gaunt and rigid in their grim proportions 
 above all, the epic interest of events, which lessen their pliability 
 for the purposes of fiction, are dealt with and mastered by 
 ingenious treatment. Attempting a task in which the chances of 
 failure were present in almost overwhelming proportion, not only 
 has the author not failed, but he has achieved a success which 
 to us is surprising. We look upon "Harold" as crowning his 
 labours, and completing the circle of his literary reputation. 
 Edith the fair, " that rose beneath the funeral cedar," whom Harold 
 sacrifices, with her own consent, either to his ambition or his love 
 of country, yet who hovers about his path like a guardian angel, and 
 recovers his corpse to die by his side, is a fine creation. Great 
 tact is shown in dealing with this legend, in purifying it of all 
 grosser taint, and yet in preserving its warmth of colouring. Edith 
 is an anticipation of the dames of chivalry, as stainless in her 
 honour as she is tender in her love. Perhaps, however, the finest 
 conception in the whole book is the character and attitude of Harold 
 Hardrada. That hero of the north, whose life was a romance, whose 
 adventures, as he ranged through Europe and Asia, were the theme 
 of the patriot songs of the Scald, is justly introduced in connexion 
 with Tostig. If Harold is received (and how can it be otherwise 1 ?) 
 with general favour by the English public, the author promises 
 that he will further illustrate English history. 
 
 THE CEITIC. 
 
 " Harold " differs materially from any other of Sir E. B. Lytton'a 
 fictions. It is in its design an epic, and in its composition a 
 chronicle. The author has successfully endeavoured to combine the 
 unity of the one with the individuality of the other. The period 
 chosen is peculiarly adapted for an epic, whether in prose or in 
 poetry. The catastrophe is a great historical event, gradually 
 evolved out of the incidents that occupy the narrative. The in- 
 terest rises with every chapter, and at the close becomes intense. But 
 Sir E, B. Lytton has, in this romance, attempted much more than 
 merely an attractive story ; he has sought to embody history, to 
 present an accurate as well as a vivid and life-like picture of the 
 times ; to realise them, as it were, to his readers' imagination and 
 to his own. 
 
 " Harold " is something more than a sofa-book. It is a work for 
 the study, and might worthily take its place upon the historical 
 shelf in the library. As it is a book which will be read by every 
 body, we will not attempt to anticipate their enjoyment by any
 
 12 CRITICAL OPINIONS. 
 
 account of the plot; suffice it to observe that Britons, Saxons, 
 Normans, and Northmen, are introduced with their several distinc- 
 tive characteristics, giving immense variety to the picture ; and that 
 " Harold " is sketched with a mastery of minute traits of character, 
 gradually developed, which the author has not surpassed, if he has 
 equalled, in any former fiction. 
 
 THE SPECTATEUR DE LONDEES. 
 
 Si " Harold 1'Indomptable " n'est pas le plus important ouvrage 
 du genre, il est, sans contredit, 1'ceuvre la plus remarquable de Sir 
 Edward Bulwer. Nous regrettons que le defaut d'espace nous empeche 
 de citer quelques passages de cette production, dans laquelle on ne 
 peut surtout s'empficher d'admirer le talent que 1'auteur a deploye 
 dans les portraits des principaux personnages.
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 THE NORMAN VISITOR, THE SAXON KING, AND 
 THE DANISH PKOPHETES3. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 HAROLD, 
 
 LAST OF THE SAXON KINGS. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 MERRY was the month of May in the year of our 
 Lord 1052. Few were the boys, and few the 
 lasses, who overslept themselves on the first of 
 that buxom month. Long ere the dawn, the 
 young crowds had sought mead and woodland, to 
 cut poles and wreathe flowers. Many a mead 
 then lay fair and green beyond the village of 
 Charing, and behind the isle of Thorney, (amidst 
 the brakes and briars of which were then rising 
 fast and fair the Hall and Abbey of Westminster ;) 
 many a wood lay dark in the starlight, along the 
 slopes, rising above the dank Strand, with its 
 B 2
 
 4 HAROLD. 
 
 numerous canals or dykes, and on either side of 
 the great road into Kent : flutes and horns 
 sounded far and near through the green places, 
 and laughter and song, and the crash of breaking 
 boughs. 
 
 As the dawn came grey up the east, arch and 
 blooming faces bowed down to bathe in the May 
 dew. Patient oxen stood dozing by the hedge- 
 rows, all fragrant with blossoms, till the gay 
 spoilers of the May came forth from the woods 
 with lusty poles, followed by girls with laps 
 full of flowers,* which they had caught asleep. 
 The poles were pranked with nosegays, and a 
 chaplet was hung round the horns of every ox. 
 Then, towards day-break, the processions streamed 
 back into the city, through all its gates; boys, 
 with their May-gads (peeled willow wands twined 
 with cowslips) going before; and clear through 
 the lively din of the horns and flutes, and amidst 
 the moving grove of branches, choral voices, 
 singing eome early Saxon stave, precursor of the 
 later song 
 
 (f We have brought the summer home."
 
 HAROLD. 5 
 
 Often in the good old days before the Monk- 
 kino- reigned, kings and ealdermen had thus 
 
 O O ' tJ 
 
 gone forth a-maying ; but these merriments, 
 savouring of heathenesse, that good prince mis- 
 liked: nevertheless the song was as blithe, and the 
 boughs were as green, as if king and ealderman 
 had walked in the train. 
 
 On the great Kent road, the fairest meads for 
 the cowslip, and the greenest woods for the bough, 
 surrounded a large building that once had be- 
 longed to some voluptuous Roman, now all defaced 
 and despoiled ; but the boys and the lasses shunned 
 those demesnes ; and even in their mirth, as they 
 passed homeward along the road, and saw near 
 the ruined walls, and timbered outbuildings, grey 
 Druid stones (that spoke of an age before either 
 Saxon or Roman invader,) gleaming through the 
 dawn the song was hushed the very youngest 
 crossed themselves; and the elder, in solemn 
 whispers, suggested the precaution of changing 
 the song into a psalm. For in that old building 
 dwelt Hilda, of famous and dark repute; Hilda, 
 who, despite all law and canon, was still believed 
 to practise the dismal arts of the Wicca and
 
 6 HAROLD. 
 
 Morthwyrtha, (the witch and worshipper of the 
 dead.) But once out of sight of those fearful 
 precincts, the psalm was forgotten, and again 
 broke, loud, clear, and silvery, the joyous chorus. 
 
 So, entering London about sunrise, doors and 
 windows were duly wreathed with garlands ; and 
 every village in the suburbs had its May-pole, 
 which stood in its place all the year. On that 
 happy day labour rested; ceorl and theowe had alike 
 a holiday to dance, and tumble round the May-pole ; 
 and thus, on the first of May, Youth, and Mirth, 
 and Music, " brought the summer home." 
 
 The next day you might still see where the 
 buxom bands had been; you might track their 
 way by fallen flowers, and green leaves, and the 
 deep ruts made by oxen, (yoked often in teams 
 from twenty to forty, in the wains that carried 
 home the poles ;) and fair and frequent through- 
 out the land, from any eminence, you might 
 behold the hamlet swards still crowned with the 
 May trees, and air still seemed fragrant with 
 their garlands. 
 
 It is on that second day of May, 1052, that my 
 story opens, at the House of Hilda, the reputed
 
 HAROLD. 7 
 
 Morthwyrtha. It stood upon a gentle and ver- 
 dant height ; and, even through all the barbarous 
 mutilation it had undergone from barbarian 
 hands, enough was left strikingly to contrast the 
 ordinary abodes of the Saxon. 
 
 The remains of Roman art were indeed still 
 numerous throughout England, but it happened 
 rarely that the Saxon had chosen his home amidst 
 the villas of those noble and primal conquerors. 
 Our first forefathers were more inclined to de- 
 stroy than to adapt. 
 
 By what chance this building became an 
 exception to the ordinary rule, it is now im- 
 possible to conjecture, but from a very remote 
 period it had sheltered successive races of Teuton 
 lords. 
 
 The changes wrought in the edifice were mourn- 
 ful and grotesque. What was now the Hall, had 
 evidently been the atrium ; the round shield, 
 with its pointed boss, the spear, sword, and 
 small curved saex of the early Teuton, were sus- 
 pended upon the columns on which once had been 
 wreathed the flowers ; in the centre of the floor, 
 where fragments of the old mosaic still glistened
 
 8 HAROLD. 
 
 from the hard-pressed paving of clay and lime, 
 what now was the fire-place, had been the implu- 
 vium, and the smoke went sullenly through the 
 aperture in the roof, made of old to receive the 
 rains of heaven. Around the Hall were still left 
 the old cubicula or dormitories, (small, high, and 
 lighted but from the doors,) which now served 
 for the sleeping rooms of the humbler guest or 
 the household servant ; while, at the farther 
 end of the Hall, the wide space between the 
 columns, which had once given ample vista from 
 graceful awnings into tablinum and viridarium, 
 was filled up with rude rubble and Roman 
 bricks, leaving but a low, round, arched door, 
 that still led into the tablinum. But that 
 tablinum, formerly the gayest state-rooin of the 
 Roman lord, was now filled with various lum- 
 ber, piles of faggots, and farming utensils. On 
 either side this desecrated apartment, stretched, 
 to the right, the old lararium, stripped of its 
 ancient images of ancestor and god ; to the 
 left, what had been the gynosciura (women's 
 apartment.) 
 
 The lararium had been, however, converted
 
 HAROLD. 
 
 into a chamber of state by some early Saxon 
 Thegn, or Ealder, evidently before the introduc- 
 tion of Christianity ; for, here and there, over the 
 smooth glaze, once richly painted with subjects 
 from classic mythology and song, had been daubed, 
 by some grim artist hand, sketches intended to 
 represent the white horse of Hengist, or the black 
 raven of Woden; Runic inscriptions, partially 
 obliterated, ran ruthlessly through the midst of a 
 faded entablature of Cupids at play ; and ghastly 
 wolves' heads, half destroyed by time and decay, 
 moth and worm, suspended over an ancient uncouth 
 chair of stone, had mouldered there in melancholy 
 pride since the day when those kindred animals 
 had been unnaturally exterminated by their Saxon 
 brotherhood. All these rooms formerly opening 
 by doors, first upon the open gallery, called 
 viridarium, next upon a peristyle, or colon- 
 nade, were now, with the exception of the central 
 tablinum (which still retained the door), closed 
 by windows ; that to the ancient lararium was 
 merely defended from the rains by lattice-work, 
 that to the gynoecium was glazed with a dull 
 grey glass. (Glass, introduced about the time of 
 B 3
 
 10 HAROLD. 
 
 Bede, was more common then,* in the houses of 
 the wealthy, whether for vessels or windows, than 
 in the much later age of the gorgeous Plantaga- 
 nets, though to the wealthy its use was still con- 
 fined.) The ancient peristyle was of vast extent ; 
 one side of it was now converted into stabling, 
 sties for swine, and stalls for oxen. On the other 
 side was constructed a Christian chapel, made of 
 rough oak planks, fastened by plates at the top, 
 and with a roof of thatched reeds. The columns 
 and wall at the extreme end of the peristyle were a 
 mass of ruins, through the gigantic rents of which 
 loomed a grassy hillock, its sides partially covered 
 with clumps of furze. On this hillock were the 
 mutilated remains of an ancient Druidical crom- 
 mel, in the centre of which (near a funeral mound, 
 or barrow, with the bautastein, or gravestone, of 
 some early Saxon chief at one end) had been 
 sacrilegiously placed an altar to Thor, as was 
 
 * Alfred, in one of his poems, introduces glass as a familiar 
 illustration : 
 
 " So oft the mild sea 
 With south wind , 
 
 As grey glass clear 
 Becomes grimly troubled." SHAR. TURNER.
 
 HAROLD. 1 1 
 
 apparent both from the shape, from a rude, 
 half-obliterated, sculptured relief of the god, 
 with his lifted hammer, and a few Runic let- 
 ters. Amidst the temple of the Briton the 
 Saxon had reared the shrine of his triumphant 
 war god. 
 
 Now still, amidst the ruins of that extreme side 
 of the peristyle which opened to this hillock, were 
 left, first, an ancient Roman fountain, that now 
 served to water the swine, and next, a small 
 sacellum, or fane to Bacchus (as relief and frieze, 
 yet spared, betokened) : thus the eye, at one sur- 
 vey, beheld the shrines of four creeds ; the Druid, 
 mystical and symbolical ; the Roman, sensual, but 
 humane ; the Teutonic, ruthless and destroying ; 
 and, latest risen and surviving all, though as yet 
 with but little of its gentler influence over the 
 deeds of men, the edifice of the Faith of Peace. 
 
 Across the peristyle, theowes and swineherds 
 passed to and fro : in the atrium, men of a higher 
 class, half armed, were, some drinking, some at 
 dice, some playing with huge hounds, or caress- 
 ing the hawks that stood grave and solemn on 
 their perches.
 
 12 HAROLD. 
 
 The lararium was deserted; the gyncecium 
 was still, as in the Roman time, the favoured 
 apartment of the female portion of the house- 
 hold, and indeed bore the same name,* and 
 with the groupe there assembled we have now 
 to do. 
 
 The appliances of the chamber showed the rank 
 and wealth of the owner. At that period the 
 domestic luxury of the rich was infinitely greater 
 than has been generally supposed. The indus- 
 try of the women decorated wall and furni- 
 ture with needlework and hangings : and as a 
 Thegn forfeited his rank if he lost his lands, so 
 the higher orders of an aristocracy rather of 
 wealth than birth, had, usually, a certain portion 
 of superfluous riches, which served to flow to- 
 wards the bazaars of the East, and the nearer 
 markets of Flanders and Saracenic Spain. 
 
 In this room the walls were draped with silken 
 hangings richly embroidered. On a beaufet were 
 ranged horns tipped with silver, and a few vessels 
 of pure gold. A small circular table in the centre 
 
 * " The apartment in which the Anglo-Saxon women lived, 
 was called Gynecium." FOSBROOKE, vol. ii. p. 570.
 
 HAROLD. 13 
 
 was supported by symbolical monsters quaintly 
 carved. At one side of the wall, on a long settle, 
 some half-a-dozen handmaids were employed in 
 spinning ; remote from them, and near the win- 
 dow, sat a woman advanced in years, and of a 
 mien and aspect singularly majestic. Upon a 
 small tripod before her was a Runic manuscript, 
 and an inkstand of elegant form, with a silver 
 graphium, or pen. At her feet reclined a girl 
 somewhat about the age of sixteen, her long fair 
 hair parted across her forehead, and falling far 
 down her shoulders. Her dress was a linen under 
 tunic, with long sleeves, rising high to the throat, 
 and, without one of the modern artificial restraints 
 of the shape, the simple belt sufficed to show 
 the slender proportions and delicate outline of the 
 wearer. The colour of the dress was of the 
 purest white, but its hems, or borders, were richly 
 embroidered. This girl's beauty was something 
 marvellous. In a land proverbial for fair women., 
 it had already obtained her the name of " the 
 fair." In that beauty were blended, not as yet 
 without a struggle for mastery, the two expres- 
 sions seldom united in one countenance, the soft
 
 14 HAROLD. 
 
 and the noble ; indeed in the whole aspect there 
 was the evidence of some internal struggle ; the 
 intelligence was not yet complete ; the soul and 
 heart were not yet united : and Edith the 
 Christian maid dwelt in the home of Hilda the 
 heathen prophetess. The girl's blue eyes, rendered 
 dark by the shade of their long lashes, were fixed 
 intently upon the stern and troubled countenance 
 which was bent upon her own, but bent with that 
 abstract gaze which shows that the soul is absent 
 from the sight. So sate Hilda, and so reclined 
 her grandchild Edith. 
 
 " Grandam," said the girl in a low voice, and 
 after a long pause ; and the sound of her voice so 
 startled the handmaids, that every spindle stopped 
 for a moment, and then plied with renewed ac- 
 tivity ; " Grandam, what troubles you are you 
 not thinking of the great Earl and his fair sons, 
 now outlawed far over the wide seas?" 
 
 As the girl spoke, Hilda started slightly, like 
 one awakened from a dream ; and when Edith had 
 concluded her question, she rose slowly to the 
 height of a statue, unbowed by her years, and far 
 towering above even the ordinary standard of
 
 HAROLD. 15 
 
 men ; and turning from the child, her eye fell 
 upon the row of silent maids, each at her rapid, 
 noiseless, stealthy work. " Ho ! " said she ; her 
 cold and haughty eye gleaming as she spoke ; 
 " yesterday, they brought home the summer to- 
 day, ye aid to bring home the winter. Weave 
 well heed well warf and woof; Skulda* is 
 amongst ye, and her pale fingers guide the web ! " 
 
 The maidens lifted not their eyes, though in 
 every cheek the colour paled at the words of the 
 mistress. The spindles revolved, the thread shot, 
 and again there was silence more freezing than 
 before. 
 
 " Askest thou," said Hilda at length, passing to 
 the child, as if the question so long addressed to 
 her ear had only just reached her mind ; " askest 
 thou if I thought of the Earl and his fair sons ? 
 yea, I heard the smith welding arms on the anvil, 
 and the hammer of the shipwright shaping strong 
 ribs for the horses of the sea. Ere the reaper 
 has bound his sheaves, Earl Godwin will scare 
 the Normans in the halls of the Monk King, 
 as the hawk scares the brood in the dovecot. 
 
 * Skulda, the Norna, or Fate, that presided over the future.
 
 ] 6 HAROLD. 
 
 Weave well, heed well warf and woof, nimble 
 maidens strong be the texture, for biting is the 
 worm." 
 
 "What weave they, then, good grandmother?" 
 asked the girl, with wonder and awe in her soft 
 mild eyes. 
 
 " The winding-sheet of the great !" 
 
 Hilda's lips closed, but her eyes, yet brighter 
 than before, gazed upon space, and her pale hand 
 seemed tracing letters, like runes, in the air. 
 
 Then slowly she turned, and looked forth 
 through the dull window. " Give me my cover- 
 chief and my staff," said she quickly. 
 
 Every one of the handmaids, blithe for excuse 
 to quit a task which seemed recently commenced, 
 and was certainly not endeared to them by the 
 knowledge of its purpose communicated to them 
 by the lady, rose to obey. 
 
 Unheeding the hands that vied with each 
 other, Hilda took the hood, and drew it partially 
 over her brow. Leaning lightly on a long staff, 
 the head of which formed a raven, carved from 
 some wood stained black, she passed into the hall, 
 and thence through the desecrated tablinum, into
 
 HAROLD. 17 
 
 the mighty court formed by the shattered peri- 
 style ; there she stopped, mused a moment, and 
 called on Edith. The girl was soon by her side. 
 
 "Come with me. There is a face you shall 
 see but twice in life ; this day," and Hilda 
 paused, and the rigid and almost colossal beauty 
 of her countenance softened. 
 
 " And when again, my grandmother ?" 
 
 " Child, put thy warm hand in mine. So ! the 
 vision darkens from me. When again, saidst 
 thou, Edith ? alas, I know not." 
 
 While thus speaking, Hilda passed slowly by 
 the Roman fountain and the heathen fane, and 
 ascended the little hillock. There, on the opposite 
 side of the summit, backed by the Druid crom- 
 mell and the Teuton altar, she seated herself 
 deliberately on the sward. 
 
 A few daisies, primroses, and cowslips grew 
 around ; these Edith began to pluck. Singing, 
 as she wove, a simple song, that, not more by the 
 dialect than the sentiment, betrayed its origin in 
 the ballad of the Norse,* which had, in its more 
 
 * The historians of our literature have not done justice to the 
 great influence which the poetry of the Danes has had upon our
 
 18 HAROLD. 
 
 careless composition, a character quite distinct 
 from the artificial poetry of the Saxons. The 
 song may be thus imperfectly rendered : 
 
 " Merrily the throstle sings 
 
 In the merry May ; 
 The throstle singeth to my ear : 
 My heart is far away. 
 
 Merrily with blossom boughs 
 
 Laugheth out the tree ; 
 Mine eyes upon the blossoms look : 
 
 My heart is on the sea. 
 
 My May is not the blossom bough 
 
 The music in the sky : 
 My May was in the winter frost, 
 
 When One was smiling by." 
 
 As she came to the last line, her soft low voice 
 seemed to awaken a chorus of sprightly horns and 
 trumpets, and certain other wind instruments pecu- 
 
 early national muse. I have little doubt but that to that source 
 may be traced the minstrelsy of our borders, and the Scottish 
 Lowlands ; while, even in the central counties, the example and 
 exertions of Canute must have had considerable effect on the 
 taste and spirit of our Scops. That great prince afforded the 
 amplest encouragement to Scandinavian poetry, and Olaus name? 
 eight Danish poets, who nourished at his court.
 
 HAROLD. 19 
 
 liar to the music of that day. The hillock bor- 
 dered the high road to London which then 
 wound through wastes of forest land and now 
 emerging from the trees to the left, appeared 
 a goodly company. First came two riders 
 abreast, each holding a banner. On the one was 
 depicted the cross and five martlets, the device of 
 Edward, afterwards surnamed the Confessor : on 
 the other, a plain broad cross with a deep border 
 round it, and the streamer shaped into sharp 
 points. 
 
 The first was familiar to Edith, who dropped her 
 garland to gaze on the approaching pageant ; the 
 last was strange to her. She had been accustomed 
 to see the banner of the great Earl Godwin by 
 the side of the Saxon king ; and she said, almost 
 indignantly, 
 
 " Who dares, sweet grandame, to place banner 
 or pennon where Earl Godwin's ought to float ? " 
 
 " Peace," said Hilda, " peace and look." 
 
 Immediately behind the standard-bearers came 
 two figures strangely dissimilar indeed in mien, 
 in years, in bearing : each bore on his left wrist 
 a hawk. The one was mounted on a milk-white
 
 20 HAROLD. 
 
 palfrey, with housings inlaid with gold and uncut 
 jewels. Though not really old for he was much 
 on this side of sixty both his countenance and 
 carriage evinced age. His complexion was ex- 
 tremely fair indeed, and his cheeks ruddy ; but 
 the visage was long and deeply furrowed, and 
 from beneath a bonnet not dissimilar to those in 
 use among the Scotch, streamed hair long and 
 white as snow, mingling with a large and forked 
 beard. White seemed his chosen colour. White 
 was the upper tunic clasped on his shoulder with 
 a broad ouche or brooch ; white the woollen leg- 
 gings fitted to somewhat emaciated limbs; and 
 white the mantle, though broidered with a broad 
 hem of gold and purple. The fashion of his dress 
 was that which well became a noble person, but 
 it suited ill the somewhat frail and graceless figure 
 of the rider. Nevertheless, as Edith saw him, she 
 rose, with an expression of deep reverence on her 
 countenance, and saying, "It is our lord the 
 King," advanced some steps down the hillock, and 
 there stood, her arms folded on her breast, and 
 quite forgetful, in her innocence and youth, that 
 she had left the house without the cloak and
 
 HAROLD. 21 
 
 coverchief which were deemed indispensable to 
 the fitting appearance of maid and matron when 
 they were seen abroad. 
 
 "Fair sir, and brother mine," said the deep 
 voice of the younger rider, in the Romance or 
 Xorman tongue, "I have heard that the small 
 people of whom my neighbours, the Bretons, tell 
 us much,, abound greatly in this fair land of yours; 
 and if I were not by the side of one whom no 
 creature unassoilzed and unbaptized dare ap- 
 proach, by sweet St. Yalery I should say yonder 
 stands one of those same gentilles fees !" 
 
 King Edward's eye followed the direction of his 
 companion's outstretched hand, and his quiet brow 
 slightly contracted as he beheld the young form 
 of Edith standing motionless a few yards before 
 him, with the warm May wind lifting and playing 
 with her long golden locks. He checked his pal- 
 frey, and murmured some Latin words which the 
 knight beside him recognized as a prayer, and to 
 which, doffing his cap, he added an Amen, in a 
 tone of such unctuous gravity, that the royal saint 
 rewarded him with a faint approving smile, and 
 an affectionate " Bene, bene, Piosissime."
 
 22 HAROLD. 
 
 Then inclining his palfrey's head towards the 
 knoll, he motioned to the girl to approach him. 
 Edith, with a heightened colour obeyed, and came 
 to the roadside. The standard-bearers halted, as 
 did the king and his comrade the procession be- 
 hind halted thirty knights, two bishops, eight 
 abbots, all on fiery steeds and in Norman garb 
 squires and attendants on foot a long and pom- 
 pous retinue they halted all. Only a stray hound 
 or two broke from the rest, and wandered into the 
 forest land with heads trailing. 
 
 " Edith, my child," said Edward, still in Nor- 
 man-French, for he spoke his own language with 
 hesitation, and the Romance tongue, which had 
 long been familiar to the higher classes in Eng- 
 land, had, since his accession, become the only 
 language in use at court, and as such every one of 
 ' Eorl-kind' was supposed to speak it. " Edith, 
 my child, thou hast not forgotten my lessons, I 
 trow; thou singest the hymns I gave thee, and 
 neglectest not to wear the relic round thy neck." 
 
 The girl hung her head, and spoke not. 
 
 " How comes it, then," continued the King, with 
 a voice to which he in vain endeavoured to impart
 
 HAROLD. 23 
 
 an accent of severity, " how comes it, O little one, 
 that thou, whose thoughts should be lifted already 
 above this carnal world, and eager for the service 
 of Mary the chaste and blessed, standest thus 
 hoodless and alone on the waysides, a mark for 
 the eyes of men ? go to, it is naught." 
 
 Thus reproved, and in presence of so large and 
 brilliant a company, the girl's colour went and 
 came, her breast heaved high, but with an effort 
 beyond her age she checked her tears, and said 
 meekly, " My grandmother, Hilda, bade me come 
 with her, and I came." 
 
 " Hilda !" said the King, backing his palfrey with 
 apparent perturbation, "but Hilda is not with 
 thee ; I see her not." 
 
 As he spoke, Hilda rose, and so suddenly did 
 her tall form appear on the brow of the hill, that 
 it seemed as if she had emerged from the earth. 
 With a light and rapid stride she gained the side 
 of her grandchild ; and after a slight and haughty 
 reverence, said, " Hilda is here ; what wants 
 Edward the King with his servant Hilda ? " 
 
 " Nought, nought," said the King, hastily ; 
 and something like fear passed over his placid
 
 24 HAROLD. 
 
 countenance ; " save, indeed," he added, with a 
 reluctant tone, as of that of a man who obeys 
 his conscience against his inclination, " that I 
 would pray thee to keep this child pure to thresh- 
 hold and altar, as is meet for one whom our 
 Lady, the Virgin, in due time, will elect to her 
 service." 
 
 " Not so, son of Etheldred, son of Woden, 
 the last descendant of Penda should live, not to 
 glide a ghost amidst cloisters, but to rock children 
 for war in their father's shield. Few men are 
 there yet like the men of old ; and while the foot 
 of the foreigner is on the Saxon soil no branch 
 on the stem of Woden should be nipped in the 
 leaf." 
 
 " Per la resplendar De,* bold dame," cried the 
 knight by the side of Edward, while a lurid flush 
 passed over his cheek of bronze ; " but thou art 
 too glib of tongue for a subject, and pratest over- 
 much of Woden, the Paynim, for the lips of a 
 Christian matron." 
 
 Hilda met the flashing eye of the knight with a 
 
 * " By the splendour of God."
 
 HAROLD. 25 
 
 brow of lofty scorn, on which still a certain terror 
 was visible. 
 
 " Child," she said, putting her hand upon 
 Edith's fair locks ; " this is the man thou shalt 
 see but twice in thy life; look up, and mark 
 well!" 
 
 Edith instinctively raised her eyes, and, once 
 fixed upon the knight, they seemed chained as by 
 a spell. His vest, of a cramoisay so dark, that it 
 seemed black beside the snowy garb of the Con- 
 fessor, was edged by a deep band of embroidered 
 gold ; leaving perfectly bare his firm, full throat 
 firm and full as a column of granite, a short 
 jacket or mantcline of fur, pendant from the 
 shoulders, left developed in all its breadth a 
 breast, that seemed meet to stay the march of an 
 army ; and on the left arm, curved to support the 
 falcon, the vast muscles rose, round and gnarled, 
 through the close sleeve. 
 
 In height, he was really but little above the 
 stature of many of those present;* nevertheless, 
 so did his port, his air, the nobility of his large 
 
 * See Note ( A.) at the end of this Volume. 
 VOL. I. C
 
 26 HAROLD. 
 
 proportions, fill the eye, that he seemed to tower 
 immeasurably above the rest. 
 
 His countenance was yet more remarkable than 
 his form; still in the prime of youth, he seemed 
 at the first glance youngei', at the second older, 
 than he was. At the first glance younger; for 
 his face was perfectly shaven, without even the 
 moustache which the Saxon courtier, in imi- 
 tating the Norman, still declined to surrender ; 
 and the smooth visage and bare throat sufficed in 
 themselves to give the air of youth to that domi- 
 nant and imperious presence. His small skull- 
 cap left unconcealed his forehead, shaded with 
 short thick hair, uncurled, but black and glossy 
 as the wings of a raven. It was on that forehead 
 that time had set its trace; it was knit into a 
 frown over the eyebrows ; lines deep as furrows 
 crossed its broad, but not elevated expanse. That 
 frown spoke of hasty ire and the habit of stern 
 command ; those furrows spoke of deep thought 
 and plotting scheme: the one betrayed but tem- 
 per and circumstance; the other, more noble, 
 spake of the character and the intellect. The 
 face was square, and the regard lion-like; the
 
 HAROLD. 27 
 
 mouth small, and even beautiful in outline had 
 a sinister expression in its exceeding firmness ; 
 and the jaw vast, solid, as if bound in iron 
 showed obstinate, ruthless, determined will ; such 
 a jaw as belongs to the tiger amongst beasts, and 
 the conqueror amongst men ; such as it is seen 
 in the effigies of Caesar, of Cortes, of Napoleon. 
 
 That presence was well calculated to command 
 the admiration of women, not less than the awe of 
 men. But no admiration mingled with the terror 
 that seized the girl as she gazed long and wistful 
 upon the knight. The fascination of the serpent 
 on the bird held her mute and frozen. Never 
 was that face forgotten; often in after-life it 
 haunted her in the noonday, it frowned upon her 
 dreams. 
 
 " Fair child," said the knight, fatigued at length 
 by the obstinacy of the gaze, while that smile 
 peculiar to those who have commanded men 
 relaxed his brow, and restored the native beauty 
 to his lip, " fair child, learn not from thy peevish 
 grandame so uncourteous a lesson as hate of the 
 foreigner. As thoit growest into womanhood, 
 know that Norman knight is sworn slave to lady 
 c 2
 
 28 HAROLD. 
 
 fair ; " and, doffing his cap, he took from it an 
 uncut jewel, set in Byzantine filagree work. 
 " Hold out thy lap, my child ; and when thou 
 hearest the foreigner scoffed, set this bauble in 
 thy locks, and think kindly of William, Count of 
 the Normans."* 
 
 He dropped the jewel on the ground as he 
 spoke ; for Edith, shrinking and unsoftened to- 
 wards him, held no lap to receive it ; and Hilda, 
 to whom Edward had been speaking in a low 
 voice, advanced to the spot, and stnick the jewel 
 with her staff under the hoofs of the King's 
 palfrey. 
 
 " Son of Emma, the Norman woman, who sent 
 thy youth into exile, trample on the gifts of thy 
 Norman kinsman. And if, as men say, thou art of 
 such gifted holiness that Heaven grants thy hand 
 the power to heal, and thy voice the power to 
 curse, heal thy country, and curse the stranger ! " 
 
 * It is noticeable that the Norman dukes did not call them- 
 selves Counts or Dnkes of Normandy, but of the Normans ; and 
 the first Anglo-Norman kings, till Richard the First, styled 
 themselves Kings of the English, not of England. In both Saxon 
 and Norman chronicles, William usually bears the title of Count, 
 (Comes), but in this tale he will be generally called Duke, as 
 more familiar to us.
 
 HAROLD. 29 
 
 She extended her right arm to William as she 
 spoke, and such was the dignity of her passion, 
 and such its force, that an awe fell upon all. 
 Then dropping her hood over her face, she slowly 
 turned away, regained the summit of the knoll, 
 and stood erect beside the altar of the Northern 
 god, her face invisible through the hood drawn 
 completely over it, and her form motionless as 
 a statue. 
 
 " Ride on," said Edward, crossing himself. 
 
 " Now by the bones of St. Valery," said 
 William, after a pause, in which his dark keen eye 
 noted the gloom upon the King's gentle face, " it 
 moves much my simple wonder how even pre- 
 sence so saintly can hear without wrath words so 
 unleal and foul. Gramercy, 'an the proudest dame 
 in Normandy (and I take her to be wife to my 
 stoutest baron, William Fitzosborne), had spoken 
 thus to me " 
 
 " Thou wouldst have done as I, my brother," 
 interrupted Edward ; " prayed to our Lord to 
 pardon her, and rode on pitying." 
 
 William's lip quivered with ire, yet he curbed 
 the reply that sprang to it, and he looked witji
 
 30 HAROLD. 
 
 affection, genuinely more akin to admiration than 
 scorn, upon his fellow prince. For, fierce and 
 relentless as the Duke's deeds were, his faith was 
 notably sincere ; and while this made, indeed, the 
 prince's chief attraction to the pious Edward, so, 
 on the other hand, this bowed the Duke in a kind 
 of involuntary and superstitious homage to the 
 man who sought to square deeds to faith. It is 
 ever the case with stern and stormy spirits, that the 
 meek ones which contrast them steal strangely into 
 their affections. This principle of human nature 
 can alone account for the enthusiastic devotion 
 which the mild sufferings of the Saviour awoke in 
 the fiercest exterminators of the North. In pro- 
 portion, often, to the warrior's ferocity, was his 
 love to that Divine model, at whose sufferings he 
 wept, to whose tomb he wandered barefoot, and 
 whose example of compassionate forgiveness he 
 would have thought himself the basest of men to 
 follow ! 
 
 "Now, by my Halidame, I honour and love 
 thee, Edward," cried the Duke, with a heartiness 
 more frank than was usual to him ; " and were I 
 thy subject, woe to man or woman that wagged
 
 HAROLD. 31 
 
 tongue to wound thee by a breath. But who and 
 what is this same Hilda? one of thy kith and 
 kin ? surely nought less than kingly blood runs 
 so bold?" 
 
 "William, lien aime,"* said the King, "it is 
 true that Hilda, whom the saints assoil, is of 
 kingly blood, though not of our kingly line. It is 
 feared," added Edward, in a timid whisper, as he 
 cast a hurried glance around him, " that this 
 unhappy woman has ever been more addicted to 
 the rites of her pagan ancestors than to those of 
 Holy Church; and men do say that she hath 
 thus acquired from fiend or charm secrets devoutly 
 to be eschewed by the righteous. Natheless let 
 us rather hope that her mind is somewhat dis- 
 traught with her misfortunes." 
 
 The King sighed, and the Duke sighed too, but 
 the Duke's sigh spoke impatience. He swept be- 
 hind him a stern and withering look towards the 
 proud figure of Hilda, still seen through the 
 
 * The few expressions borrowed occasionally from the Romance 
 tongue, to give individuality to the speaker, will generally be 
 translated into modern French ; for the same reason as Saxon 
 is rendered into modern English, viz., that the words may be 
 intelligible to the reader.
 
 32 HAROLD. 
 
 glades, and said in a sinister voice : " Of kingly 
 blood ; but this witch of Woden hath no sons or 
 kinsmen, I trust, who pretend to the throne of 
 the Saxon?" 
 
 " She is sibbe to Githa, wife of Godwin," an- 
 swered the King, " and that is her most perilous 
 connexion ; for the banished Earl, as thou know- 
 est, did not pretend to fill the throne, but he was 
 content with nought less than governing our 
 people." 
 
 The king then proceeded to sketch an outline of 
 the history of Hilda, but his narrative was so de- 
 formed both by his superstitions and prejudices, 
 and his imperfect information in all the leading 
 events and characters in his own kingdom, that 
 we will venture to take upon ourselves his task ; 
 and while the train rides on through glade and 
 mead, we will briefly narrate, from our own special 
 sources of knowledge, the chronicle of Hilda, the 
 Scandinavian Vala.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A MAGNIFICENT race of men were those war- 
 sons of the old North, whom our popular histories, 
 so superficial in their accounts of this age, include 
 in the common name of the " Danes." They re- 
 plunged the nations over which they swept into 
 barbarism ; but from that barbarism they repro- 
 duced the noblest elements of civilization. Swede 
 Norwegian, and Dane, differing in some minor 
 points, when closely examined had yet one com- 
 mon character viewed at a distance. They had 
 the same prodigious energy, the same passion for 
 freedom, individual and civil, the same splendid 
 errors in the thirst for fame and the "point of 
 honour ; " and above all, as a main cause of civil- 
 ization, they were wonderfully pliant and mal- 
 leable in their admixtures with the peoples they 
 c3
 
 34 HAROLD. 
 
 overran. This is their true distinction from the 
 stubborn Celt, who refuses to mingle, and disdains 
 to improve. 
 
 " Frankes li Archeveske li Dus Ron bauptiza."* 
 
 Frankes, the archbishop, baptized Rolf-ganger ; 
 and within a little more than a century afterwards, 
 the descendants of those terrible heathens, who 
 had spared neither priest nor altar, were the most 
 redoubtable defenders of the Christian Church; 
 their old language forgotten, (save by a few in the 
 town of Bayeux), their ancestral names, f (save 
 among a few of the noblest), changed into French 
 titles, and little else but the indomitable valour 
 of the Scandinavian remained unaltered amongst 
 the arts and manners of the Frankish-Nor- 
 man. 
 
 In like manner their kindred tribes, who had 
 
 * ROMAN DE Rot;, Part I. verse 1914. 
 
 t The reason why the Normans lost their old names is to be 
 found in their conversion to Christianity. They were baptized ; 
 and Franks, as their godfathers, gave them new appellations. 
 Thus, Charles the Simple insists that Rolf-ganger shall change 
 his law (creed,) and his name, and Rolf or Rou is christened 
 Robert. A few of those who retained Scandinavian names at 
 he time of the Conquest will be cited in vol. iii.
 
 HAROLD. 35 
 
 poured into Saxon England to ravage and lay 
 desolate, had no sooner obtained from Alfred the 
 Great permanent homes, than they became 
 perhaps the most powerful, and in a short time, 
 not the least patriotic, part of the Anglo Saxon 
 population.* At the time our story opens, these 
 Northmen, under the common name of Danes, 
 were peaceably settled in no less than fifteenf 
 
 * Thus, in 991, about a century after the first settlement, the 
 Danes of East Anglia gave the only efficient resistance to the 
 host of the Vikings under Justin and Gurthmund ; and Brithnoth, 
 celebrated by the Saxon poet, as a Saxon par excellence, the 
 heroic defender of his native soil, was, in all probability, of 
 Danish descent. Mr. Laing, in his preface to his translation 
 of the Heiinskringla, truly observes, " that the rebellions 
 against William the Conqueror, and his successors, appear to 
 have been almost always raised, or mainly supported, in the coun- 
 ties of recent Danish descent, not in those peopled by the old 
 Anglo-Saxon race." 
 
 The portion of Mercia consisting of the burghs of Lancaster, 
 Lincoln, Nottingham, Stamford, and Derby, became a Danish 
 State in A. D. 877; East Anglia, consisting of Cambridge, 
 Suffolk, Norfolk, and the Isle of Ely, in A.D. 87980 ; and the 
 vast territory of Northumbria, extending all north the Humbcr, 
 into all that part of Scotland south of the Frith, in A.D. 876. 
 See PALGRAVE'S Commonwealth, But, besides their more 
 allotted settlements, the Danes were interspersed as landowners 
 all over England. 
 
 f Bromton Chron. viz., Essex, Middlesex, Suffolk, Norfolk, 
 Herts, Cambridgeshire, Hants, Lincoln, Notts, Derby, Northamp- 
 ton, Leicestershire, Bucks, Beds, and the vast territory called 
 Northumbria.
 
 36 HAROLD. 
 
 counties in England ; their nobles abounded in 
 towns and cities beyond the boundaries of those 
 counties which bore the distinct appellation of 
 Danelagh. They were numerous in London ; in 
 the precincts of which they had their own burial- 
 place, to the chief municipal court of which they 
 gave their own appellation the Hustings.* Their 
 power in the national assembly of the Witan 
 had decided the choice of kings. Thus, with 
 some differences of law and dialect, these once 
 turbulent invaders had amalgamated amicably 
 with the native race.f And to this day, the 
 gentry, traders, and farmers of more than 
 one third of England, and in those counties 
 most confessed to be in the van of improve- 
 ment, descend, from Saxon mothers indeed, but 
 from Viking fathers. There was in reality little 
 
 * PALGRAVE'S Ifiatory of England, p. 315. 
 
 f The laws collected by Edward the Confessor, and in later 
 times so often and so fondly referred to, contain many intro- 
 duced by the Danes, which had grown popular with the Saxon 
 people. Much which we ascribe to the Norman Conqueror, pre- 
 existed in the Anglo-Danish, and may be found both in Nor- 
 mandy, and parts of Scandinavia, to this day. See HAKEWILL'S 
 Treatise on the Antiquity of Laws in this Island, in HBARNE'S 
 Curious Discourses.
 
 HAROLD. 37 
 
 difference in race between the Norman knight of 
 the time of Henry I. and the Saxon franklin of Nor- 
 folk and York. Both on the mother's side would 
 most probably have been Saxon, both on the 
 father's would have traced to the Scandinavian. 
 
 But though this character of adaptability was 
 general, exceptions in some points were necessarily 
 found, and these were obstinate in proportion to 
 the adherence to the old pagan faith, or the sincere 
 conversion to Christianity. The Norwegian chro- 
 nicles, and passages in our own history, show how 
 false and hollow was the assumed Christianity of 
 many of these fierce Odin-Avorshippers. They 
 willingly enougli accepted the outward sign of 
 baptism, but the holy water changed little of the 
 inner man. Even Harold, the son of Canute, 
 scarce seventeen years before the date we have 
 now entered, being unable to obtain from the 
 Archbishop of Canterbuiy who had espoused 
 the cause of his brother Hardicanute the con- 
 secrating benediction, lived and reigned as one 
 " who had abjured Christianity."* 
 
 PALGRAVE'S .History of England, p. 322.
 
 38 HAROLD. 
 
 T&e priests, especially on the Scandinavian con- 
 tinent, were often forced to compound with their 
 grim converts, by indulgence to certain habits, 
 such as indiscriminate polygamy. To eat horse- 
 flesh in honour of Odin, and to marry wives ad 
 libitum, were the main stipulations of the neophytes. 
 And the puzzled monks, often driven to a choice, 
 yielded the point of the wives, but stood firm on 
 the graver article of the horse-flesh. 
 
 With their new religion, very imperfectly un- 
 derstood even when genuinely received, they 
 retained all that host of heathen superstition 
 which knits itself with the most obstinate instincts 
 in the human breast. Not many years before 
 the reign of the Confessor, the laws of the great 
 Canute against witchcraft and charms, the wor- 
 ship of stones, fountains, runes by ash and elm, 
 and the incantations that do homage to the dead, 
 were obviously rather intended to apply to the 
 recent Danish converts, than to the Anglo- 
 Saxons, already subjugated for centuries, body 
 and soul, to the domination of the Christian monks. 
 
 Hilda, a daughter of the royalty of Denmark, 
 and cousin to Githa, (niece to Canute, whom
 
 H AHOLD. 39 
 
 that king had bestowed in second spousals upon 
 Godwin) had come over to England with a fierce 
 Jarl, her husband, a year after Canute's acces- 
 sion to the throne both converted nominally, 
 both secretly believers in Thor and Odin. 
 
 Hilda's husband had fallen in one of the actions 
 on the Northern seas, between Canute and St. 
 Olave, King of Norway, (that saint himself, by 
 the by, a most ruthless persecutor of his fore- 
 fathers' faith, and a most unqualified practical 
 asserter of his heathen privilege to extend his 
 domestic affections beyond the severe pale which 
 should have confined them to a single wife. 
 His natural son Magnus then sat on the Danish 
 throne.) The Jarl died as he had wished to die, 
 the last man on board his ship, with the soothing 
 conviction that the Valkyrs would bear him to 
 Valhalla. 
 
 Hilda was left with an only daughter, whom 
 Canute bestowed on Ethelwolf, a Saxon Earl 
 of large domains, and tracing his descent from 
 Penda, that old king of Mercia who refused to 
 be converted, but said so discreetly " that he had 
 no objection to his neighbours being Christians,
 
 40 HAROLD. 
 
 if they would practise that peace and forgiveness 
 which the monks told him were the elements of 
 the faith." 
 
 Ethelwolf fell under the displeasure of Hardi- 
 canute, perhaps because he was more Saxon than 
 Danish; and though that savage king did not 
 dare openly to arraign him before the Witan, he 
 gave secret orders by which he was butchered on 
 his own hearthstone, in the arms of his wife, who 
 died shortly afterwards of grief and terror. The 
 only orphan of this unhappy pair, Edith, was thus 
 consigned to the charge of Hilda. 
 
 It was a necessary and invaluable characteristic 
 of that "adaptability" which distinguished the 
 Danes, that they transferred to the land in which 
 they settled all the love they had borne to that of 
 their ancestors ; and so far as attachment to soil 
 was concerned, Hilda had grown no less in 
 heart an Englishwoman, than if she had been 
 born and reared amidst the glades and knolls from 
 which the smoke of her hearth rose through the 
 old Roman compluvium. 
 
 But in all else she was a Dane. Dane in her 
 creed and her habits Dane in her intense and
 
 HAROLD. 41 
 
 brooding imagination in the poetry that filled 
 her soul, peopled the air with spectres, and 
 covered the leaves of the trees with charms. 
 Living in austere seclusion after the death of her 
 
 O 
 
 lord, to whom she had borne a Scandinavian 
 woman's devoted but heroic love, sorrowing 
 indeed for his death, but rejoicing that he fell 
 amidst the feast of ravens, her mind settled more 
 and more, year by year, and day by day, upon 
 those visions of the unknown world, which, in 
 every faith, conjure up the companions of solitude 
 and grief. 
 
 Witchcraft in the Scandinavian North assumed 
 many forms, and was connected by many degrees. 
 There was the old and withered hag, on whom, in 
 our later mediaeval ages, the character was mainly 
 bestowed; there was the terrific witch-wife, or 
 wolf-witch, who seems wholly apart from human 
 birth and attributes, like the weird sisters of 
 Macbeth creatures who entered the house at 
 night, and seized warriors to devour them, who 
 might be seen gliding over the sea, with the 
 carcase of the wolf dripping blood from their 
 giant jaws; and there was the more serene,
 
 42 HAROLD. 
 
 classical, and awful vala, or sibyll, who, honoured 
 by chiefs and revered by nations, foretold the 
 future, and advised the deeds of heroes. Of these 
 last, the Norse chronicles tell us much. They 
 were often of rank and wealth, they were accom- 
 panied by trains of handmaids and servants 
 kings led them, (when their counsel was sought) 
 to the place of honour in the hall and their heads 
 were sacred, as those of ministers to the gods. 
 
 This last state in the grisly realm of the Wig- 
 laer (wizard-lore) was the one naturally appertain- 
 ing to the high rank, and the soul lofty though 
 blind and perverted, of the daughter of warrior- 
 kings. All practice of the art to which now for 
 long years she had devoted herself, that touched 
 upon the humble destinies of the vulgar, the child 
 of Odin* haughtily disdained. Her reveries were 
 upon the fate of kings and kingdoms ; she aspired 
 to save or to rear the dynasties which should rule 
 the races yet unborn. In youth proud and ambi- 
 tious, common faults with her countrywomen, 
 
 * The name of thia god is spelt Odin, when referred to as the 
 object of Scandinavian worship ; Woden, when applied directly 
 to the deity of the Saxons.
 
 HAROLD. 43 
 
 on her entrance into the darker world, she carried 
 with her the prejudices and passions that she had 
 known in that coloured by the external sun. 
 
 All her human affections were centered in her 
 grandchild Edith, the last of a race royal on 
 either side. Her researches into the future had 
 assured her, that the life and death of this fair 
 child were entwined with the fates of a king, and 
 the same oracles had intimated a mysterious and 
 inseparable connexion between her own shattered 
 house and the flourishing one of Earl Godwin, 
 the epouse of her bjnswoman Githa ; so that 
 with this great family she was as intimately 
 bound by the links of superstition as by the ties 
 of blood. The eldest born of Godwin, Sweyn, 
 had been at first especially her care and her 
 favourite; and he, of more poetic temperament 
 than his brothers, had willingly submitted to her 
 influence. But of all the brethren, as will be 
 seen hereafter, the career of Sweyn had been 
 most noxious and ill-omened, and at that moment, 
 while the rest of the house carried with it into 
 exile the deep and indignant sympathy of Eng- 
 land, no man said of Sweyn, " God bless him ! "
 
 44 HAROLD. 
 
 But as the second son, Harold, had grown from 
 childhood into youth, Hilda had singled him out 
 with a preference even more marked than that she 
 had bestowed upon Sweyn. The stars and the 
 runes assured her of his future greatness, and 
 the qualities and talents of the young earl had, 
 at the very onset of his career, confirmed the 
 accuracy of their predictions. Her interest in 
 Harold became the more intense, partly because 
 whenever she consulted the future for the lot of 
 her grandchild Edith, she invariably found it 
 associated with the fate of Harold partly be- 
 cause all her arts had failed to penetrate beyond 
 a certain point in their joint destinies, and left 
 her mind agitated and perplexed between hope 
 and terror. As yet, however, she had wholly 
 failed in gaining any ascendancy over the young 
 Earl's vigorous and healthful mind; and though 
 before his exile, he came more often than any of 
 Godwin's sons to the old Koman house, he had 
 smiled with proud incredulity at her vague pro- 
 phecies, and rejected all her offers of aid from 
 invisible agencies with the calm reply " The 
 brave man wants no charms to encourage him to
 
 HAROLD. 45 
 
 his duty, and the good man scorns all warnings 
 that would deter him from fulfilling it." 
 
 Indeed, though Hilda's magic was not of the 
 malevolent kind, and sought the source of its 
 oracles not in fiends but gods, (at least the gods 
 in whom she believed,) it was noticeable that all 
 over whom her influence had prevailed had come 
 to miserable and untimely ends; not alone her 
 husband and her son-in-law, (both of whom had 
 been as wax to her counsel,) but such other chiefs 
 as rank or ambition permitted to appeal to her 
 lore. Nevertheless, such was the ascendancy she 
 had gained over the popular mind, that it would 
 have been dangerous in the highest degree to put 
 into execution against her the laws condemnatory 
 of witchcraft. In her, all the more powerful 
 Danish families reverenced, and would have pro- 
 tected, the blood of their ancient kings, and the 
 widow of one of their most renowned heroe?. 
 Hospitable, liberal, and beneficent to the poor, 
 and an easy mistress over numerous ceorls, while 
 the vulgar dreaded, they would yet have defended 
 her. Proofs of her art it would have been hard 
 to establish; hosts of compurgators to attest her
 
 46 HAROLD. 
 
 innocence would have sprung up. Even if sub- 
 jected to the ordeal, her gold could easily have 
 bribed the priests with whom the power of evad- 
 ing its dangers rested. And with that worldly 
 wisdom which persons of genius in their wildest 
 chimeras rarely lack, she had already freed herself 
 from the chance of active persecution from the 
 Church, by ample donations to all the neigh- 
 bouring monasteries. 
 
 Hilda, in fine, was a woman of sublime desires 
 and extraordinary gifts ; terrible, indeed, but as 
 the passive agent of the Fates she invoked, and 
 rather commanding for herself a certain troubled 
 admiration, and mysterious pity ; no fiend-hag, 
 beyond humanity, in malice and in power, but 
 essentially human, even when aspiring most to the 
 secrets of a god. Assuming, for the moment, 
 that by the aid of intense imagination, persons of 
 a peculiar idiosyncrasy of nerves and temperament 
 might attain to such dim affinities with a world 
 beyond our ordinary senses, as forbid entire rejec- 
 tion of the magnetism and magic of old times it 
 was on no foul and mephitic pool, overhung willi 
 the poisonous nightshade, and excluded from the
 
 HAROLD. 47 
 
 beams of heaven, but on the living stream on 
 which the star trembled, and beside whose banks 
 the green herbage waved, that the demon shadows 
 fell dark and dread. 
 
 Thus safe and thus awful, lived Hilda ; and 
 under her care, a rose beneath the funeral cedar, 
 bloomed her grandchild Edith, goddaughter of 
 the Lady of England. 
 
 It was the anxious wish, both of Edward and 
 his virgin wife, pious as himself, to save this 
 orphan from the contamination of a house more 
 than suspected of heathen faith, and give to her 
 youth the refuge of the convent. But this, 
 Avithout her guardian's consent or her own ex- 
 pressed will, could not be legally done ; and Edith 
 as yet had expressed no desire to disobey her 
 grandmother, who treated the idea of the convent 
 with lofty scorn. 
 
 This beautiful child grew up under the in- 
 fluence, as it were, of two contending creeds ; all 
 her notions on both were necessarily confused and 
 vague. But her heart was so genuinely mild, 
 simple, tender, and devoted, there was in her so 
 much of the inborn excellence of the sex, that
 
 48 HAIIOLD. 
 
 in every impulse of that heart struggled for 
 clearer light and for purer air the unquiet soul. 
 In manner, in thought, and in person, as yet 
 almost an infant, deep in her heart lay yet one 
 woman's secret, known scarcely to herself, but 
 which taught her, more powerfully than Hilda's 
 proud and scoffing tongue, to shudder at the 
 thought of the barren cloister and the eternal vow.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 WHILE King Edward was narrating to the Nor- 
 man Duke all that he knew, and all that he knew 
 not, of Hilda's history and secret arts, the road 
 wound through lands as wild and wold-like as if 
 the metropolis of England lay a hundred miles 
 distant. Even to this day, patches of such land 
 in the neighbourhood of Norwood, may betray 
 what the country was in the old time : when a 
 mighty forest, * abounding with wild beasts' 
 * the bull and the boar ' skirted the suburbs 
 of London, and afforded pastime to king and 
 thegn. For the Norman kings have been 
 maligned by the popular notion, that assigns to 
 them all the odium of the forest laws. Harsh 
 and severe were those laws in the reign of the 
 Anglo-Saxon; as harsh and severe, perhaps, 
 against the ceorl and the poor man, as in the days 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 HAROLD. 
 
 of Rufus, though more mild unquestionably to the 
 nobles. To all beneath the rank of abbot and 
 thegn, the king's woods were made, even by the 
 mild Confessor, as sacred as the groves of the 
 Druids : and no less penalty than that of life was 
 incurred by the low-born huntsman who violated 
 their recesses.* 
 
 Edward's only mundane passion was the chase ; 
 and a day rarely passed, but what after mass he 
 went forth with hawk or hound. So that, though 
 the regular season for hawking did not commence 
 till October, he had ever on his wrist some young 
 falcon to essay, or some old favourite to exercise. 
 And now, just as William was beginning to grow 
 weary of his good cousin's prolix recitals, the 
 hounds suddenly gave tongue, and from a sedge- 
 grown pool by the way-side, with solemn wing 
 and harsh boom, rose a bittern. 
 
 " Holy St. Peter!" exclaimed the Saint-king, 
 spurring his palfrey, and loosing his famous Pere- 
 grine falcon.f William was not slow in following 
 
 * See Note (B), at the end of the Volume. 
 
 t The Peregrine hawk built on the rocks of Llandudno, and 
 this breed was celebrated, even to the days of Elizabeth. Bur- 
 leigh thanks one of the Mostyns for a cast of hawks from 
 Llandudno.
 
 HAROLD. 51 
 
 that animated example, and the whole company 
 
 rode at half speed across the rough forest-land, 
 
 straining their eyes upon the soaring, quarry, and 
 
 the large wheels of the falcons. Riding thus, 
 
 with his eyes in the air, Edward was nearly pitched 
 
 over his palfrey's head, as the animal stopped 
 
 suddenly, checked by a high gate, set deep in a 
 
 half embattled wall of brick and rubble. Upon 
 
 this gate sate, quite unmoved and apathetic, 
 
 a tall ceorl, or labourer, while behind it was a 
 
 gazing curious group of men of the same rank, 
 
 clad in those blue tunics of which our peasant's 
 
 smock is the successor, and leaning on scythes 
 
 and flails. Sour and ominous were the looks they 
 
 bent upon that Norman cavalcade. The men were 
 
 at least as well clad as those of the same condition 
 
 are now ; and their robust limbs and ruddy cheeks 
 
 showed no lack of the fare that supports labour. 
 
 Indeed, the working man of that day, if not one 
 
 of the absolute theowes, or slaves, was, physically 
 
 speaking, better off, perhaps, than he has ever 
 
 since been in England, more especially if he 
 
 appertained to some wealthy thegn of pure Saxon 
 
 lineage, whose very title of lord came to him in 
 
 D2
 
 52 HAROLD. 
 
 his quality of dispenser of bread ; * and these meu 
 had been ceorls under Harold, son of Godwin, 
 now banished from the land. 
 
 " Open the gate, open quick, my merry men," 
 said the gentle Edward, (speaking in Saxon, 
 though with a strong foreign accent,) after he 
 had recovered his seat, murmured a benediction, 
 and crossed himself three times. The men stirred 
 not. 
 
 " No horse tramps the seeds we have sown for 
 Harold the Earl to reap ;" said the ceorl doggedly, 
 still seated on the gate. And the group behind 
 him gave a shout of applause. 
 
 Moved more than ever he had been known to be 
 before, Edward spurred his steed up to the boor, 
 and lifted his hand. At that signal twenty swords 
 flashed in the air behind, as the Norman nobles 
 spurred to the place. Putting back with one 
 hand his fierce attendants, Edward shook the 
 other at the Saxon. " Knave, knave," he cried, 
 " I would hurt you, if I could ! " 
 
 There was something in these words, fated to 
 
 * Hlaf, loaf; Hlaford, lord, giver of bread; Hleafdian, lady, 
 erver of bread. VERSTEQAN.
 
 HAROLD. 53 
 
 drift down into history, at once ludicrous and 
 touching. The Normans saw them only in the 
 former light, and turned aside to conceal their 
 laughter ; the Saxon felt them in the latter, and 
 truer sense, and stood rebuked. That great 
 king, whom he noAV recognised, with all those 
 drawn swords at his back, could not do him hurt ; 
 that king had not the heart to hurt him. The 
 ceorl sprang from the gate, and opened it, 
 bending low. 
 
 "Ride first, Count William my cousin," said the 
 King, calmly. 
 
 The Saxon ceorl's eyes glared as he heard the 
 Norman's name uttered in the Norman tongue, 
 but he kept open the gate, and the train passed 
 through, Edward lingering last. Then said the 
 King, in a low voice, 
 
 " Bold man, thou spokest of Harold the Earl 
 and his harvests ; knowest thou not that his lands 
 have passed from him, that he is outlawed, and 
 his harvests are not for the scythes of his ceorls 
 to reap ? " , 
 
 " May it please you, dread Lord and King," 
 replied the Saxon, simply, "these lands that were
 
 54 HAROLD. 
 
 Harold the Earl's, are now Clapa's, the sixhoend- 
 man's." 
 
 " How is that ? " quoth Edward, hastily ; " we 
 gave them neither to sixhjendman nor to Saxon. 
 All the lands of Harold hereabout were divided 
 amongst sacred abbots and noble chevaliers 
 Normans all." 
 
 " Fulke the Norman had these fair fields, yon 
 orchards and tynen; Fulke sold them to Clapa, 
 the Earl's sixhamdman, and what in mancuses and 
 pence Clapa lacked of the price, we, the ceorls of 
 the Earl, made up from our own earnings in the 
 Earl's noble service. And this very day, in token 
 thereof, have we quaffed the bedden-ale.* Where- 
 fore, please God and our Lady, we hold these 
 lands part and parcel with Clapa ; and when Earl 
 Harold comes again, as come he will, here at least 
 he will have his own." 
 
 Edward, who, despite a singular simplicity of 
 character which at times seemed to border on 
 imbecility, was by no means wanting in pene- 
 
 * Bedden-ale. W,hen any man was set up in his estate by 
 the contributions of his friends, those friends were bid to a feast, 
 and the ale so drunk was called the bedden-ale, from bedden, to 
 pray, or to bid." (See BRAND'S Pop. Antiq.)
 
 HAROLD. 55 
 
 tration when his attention was fairly roused, 
 changed countenance at this proof of rough and 
 comely affection on the part of these men to 
 his banished earl and brother-in-law. He mused 
 
 
 
 a little while in grave thought, and then said, 
 kindly, 
 
 " Well, man, I think not the worse of you for 
 loyal love to your thegn, but there are those who 
 would do so, and I avise you, brotherlike, that ears 
 and nose are in peril if thou talkest thus indis- 
 creetly." 
 
 " Steel to steel, and hand to hand," said the 
 Saxon, bluntly, touching the long knife in his 
 leathern belt, "and he who sets gripe on Sex- 
 wolf son of Elfhelm, shall pay his weregeld twice 
 over." 
 
 " Forewarned, foolish man, thou art fore- 
 warned. Peace," said the King ; and, shaking 
 his head, he rode on to join the Normans, who 
 now, in a broad field, where the corn sprang 
 green, and which they seemed to delight in wan- 
 tonly trampling, as they curvetted their steeds to 
 and fro, watched the movements of the bittern 
 and the pursuit of the two falcons.
 
 56 HAROLD. 
 
 " A wager, Lord King ! " said a prelate, whose 
 strong family likeness to William proclaimed him 
 to be the duke's bold and haughty brother, Odo,* 
 Bishop of Bayeux ; " a wager. My steed to 
 
 
 
 your palfrey that the Duke's falcon first fixes the 
 bittern." 
 
 "Holy father," answered Edward, in that slight 
 change of voice which alone showed his displea- 
 sure, " these wagers all savour of heathenesse, and 
 our canons forbid them to mone f and priest. Go 
 to, it is naught." 
 
 The bishop, who brooked no rebuke, even from 
 his terrible brother, knit his brows, and was 
 about to make no gentle rejoinder, when William, 
 whose profound craft or sagacity was always at 
 watch, lest his followers should displease the 
 King, interposed, and, taking the word out of the 
 prelate's mouth, said, 
 
 " Thou reprovest us well, Sir and King ; we 
 Normans are too inclined to such levities. And 
 
 * Herleve (Arlotta), William's mother, married Herluin do 
 Conteville, after the death of Duke Eobert, and had by him two 
 sons, Robert, Count of Mortain, and Odo, Bishop of Bayeux. 
 ORD. VITAL, lib. vii. 
 
 f Mone, monk.
 
 HAROLD. 57 
 
 see, your falcon is first in pride of place. By 
 the bones of St. Valery, how nobly he towers ! 
 See him cover the bittern ! see him rest on the 
 wing ! Down he swoops ! Gallant bird ! " 
 
 " With his heart split in two on the bittern's 
 bill," said the bishop ; and down, rolling one over 
 the other, fell bittern and hawk, while William's 
 Norway falcon, smaller of size than the King's, 
 descended rapidly, and hovered over the two. 
 Both were dead. 
 
 " I accept the omen," muttered the gazing 
 Duke, in Latin ; " let the natives destroy each, 
 other! 1 ' He placed his whistle to his lips, and his 
 falcon flew back to his wrist. 
 
 " Now home," said King Edward. 
 
 D3
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE royal party entered London by the great 
 bridge which divided South wark from the capital ; 
 and we must pause to gaze a moment on the 
 animated scene which the immemorial thorough- 
 fare presented. 
 
 The whole suburb before entering South- 
 wark was rich in orchards and gardens, lying 
 round the detached houses of the wealthier mer- 
 chants and citizens. Approaching the river-side, 
 to the left, the eye might see the two circular 
 spaces set apart, the one for bear, the other for 
 bull-baiting. To the right, upon a green mound 
 of waste, within sight of the populous bridge, 
 the gleemen were exercising their art. Here one 
 dexterous juggler threw three balls and three 
 knives alternately in the air, catching them one
 
 HAROLD. 59 
 
 by one as they fell.* There, another was gravely 
 leading a great bear to dance on its hind legs, 
 while his coadjutor kept time with a sort of flute, 
 or flageolet. The lazy bystanders, in great con- 
 course, stared and laughed; but the laugh was 
 hushed at the tramp of the Norman steeds ; and 
 the famous Count by the King's side, as, with a 
 smiling lip, but observant eye, he rode along, 
 drew all attention from the bear. 
 
 On now approaching that bridge which, not 
 many years before, had been the scene of terrible 
 contest between the invading Danes and Ethelred's 
 ally, Olave of Norway, f you mi'ght still see, though 
 neglected and already in decay, the double fortifi- 
 cations that had wisely guarded that vista into the 
 
 * STRUTT'S Horda. 
 
 f There is an animated description of this " Battle of London 
 Bridge," which gave ample theme to the Scandinavian scalds, 
 in Snorro Sturleson : 
 
 " London bridge is broken down ; 
 Gold is won and bright renown ; 
 Shields resounding, 
 War horns sounding, 
 Hildur shouting in the din, 
 Arrows singing, 
 Mail-coats ringing, 
 Odin makes our Olaf win." 
 
 LAINQ'S Heimskringla, vol. ii. p. 10.
 
 60 HAROLD. 
 
 city. On both sides of the bridge, which was of 
 wood, were forts, partly of timber, partly of stone, 
 and breastworks, and by the forts a little chapel. 
 The bridge, broad enough to admit two vehicles 
 abreast,* was crowded with passengers, and lively 
 with stalls and booths. Here was the favourite 
 spot of the popular ballad-singer, f Here too 
 might be seen the swarthy Saracen, with wares 
 from Spain and Afric.J Here, the German mer- 
 chant from the Steel-yard swept along on his way 
 to his suburban home. Here, on some holy office, 
 went quick the muffled monk. Here the city 
 gallant paused to laugh with the country girl, her 
 basket full of May-boughs and cowslips. In 
 
 * SHARON TURNER. f HAWKINS, vol. ii. p. 94. 
 
 J Doomsday makes mention of the Moors, and the Germans 
 (the Emperor's merchants) that were sojourners, or settlers, in 
 London. The Saracens at that time were among the great mer- 
 chants of the world ; Marseilles, Aries, Avignon, Montpel- 
 lier, Toulouse, were the wonted etapes of their active traders. 
 What civilizers, what teachers they were those same Saracens I 
 How much in arms and in arts we owe them ! Fathers of the 
 Provencal poetry, they, far more than even the Scandinavian 
 scalds, have influenced the literature of Christian Europe. The 
 most ancient chronicle of the Cid was written in Arabic, a little 
 before the Cid's death, by two of his pages, who were Mussul- 
 men. The medical science of the Moors for six centuries enlight- 
 ened Europe, and their metaphysics were adopted in nearly all 
 the Christian universities.
 
 HAROLD. 61 
 
 short, all bespoke that activity, whether in busi- 
 ness or pastime, which was destined to render that 
 city the mart of the world, and which had already 
 knit the trade of the Anglo-Saxon to the remoter 
 corners of commercial Europe. The deep dark 
 eye of William dwelt admiringly on the bustling 
 groupes, on the broad river, and the forest of masts 
 which rose by the indented marge near Belin's 
 gate.* And he to whom whatever his faults, 
 or rather crimes, to the unfortunate people he not 
 only oppressed but deceived London, at least, 
 may yet be grateful, not only for chartered fran- 
 chise,f but for advancing, in one short vigorous 
 
 * Billingsgate. Yerstegan combats the Welsh antiquaries 
 who would appropriate this gate to the British deity, Bal, or 
 Beli ; and says, if so, it would not have been called by a name 
 half Saxon, half British, gate, (geat) being Saxon ; but rather 
 Belinsport, than Belinsgate. This is no very strong argument ; 
 for^ in the Norman time, many compound words were half 
 Norman, half Saxon. But, in truth, Belin was a Teuton deity, 
 whose worship pervaded all Gaul ; and the Saxon might either 
 have continued, therefore, the name they found, or given it 
 themselves, from their own god. I am not inclined, however, 
 to contend that any deity, Saxon or British, gave the name, or 
 that Billing is not, after all, the right orthography. Billing, 
 like all words ending in ing, has something very Danish in its 
 sound ; and the name is quite as likely to have been given by 
 the Danes as by the Saxons. 
 
 \- London received a charter from William at the instigation 
 of the Norman Bishop of London ; but it probably only con-
 
 - 
 
 62 HAROLD. 
 
 reign, her commerce and wealth, beyond what 
 centuries of Anglo-Saxon domination, with its 
 inherent feebleness, had effected, exclaimed aloud : 
 
 " By rood and mass, O dear king, thy lot hath 
 fallen on a goodly heritage !" 
 
 " Hem !" said Edward, lazily ; " thou knowest 
 not how troublesome these Saxons are. And 
 while thou speakest, lo, in yon shattered walls, 
 built first, they say, by Alfred of holy memory, 
 are the evidences of the Danes. Bethink thee 
 how often they have sailed up this river. How 
 know I but what the next year the raven flag 
 may stream over these waters ? Magnus of Den- 
 mark hath already claimed my crown as heir to 
 the royalties of Canute, and" (here Edward hesi- 
 tated), " Godwin and Harold, whom, alone of my 
 thegns, Dane and Northman fear, are far away." 
 
 " Miss not them, Edward, my cousin," cried the 
 Duke, in haste. " Send for me if danger threat 
 thee. Ships enow await thy hest in my new port 
 
 firmed the previous municipal constitution, since it says briefly, 
 " I grant you all to be as law-worthy as ye were in the days of 
 King Edward." The rapid increase, however, of the commercial 
 prosperity, and political importance of London after the Con- 
 quest, is attested in many chronicles, and becomes strikingly 
 evident even on the surface of history.
 
 HAROLD. 63 
 
 of Cherburg. And I tell thee this for thy 
 comfort, that were I king of the English, and 
 lord of this river, the citizens of London might 
 sleep from vespers to prime, without fear of the 
 Dane. Never again should the raven flag be seen 
 by this bridge ! Never, I swear, by the Splen- 
 dour Divine !" 
 
 Not without purpose spoke "William thus 
 stoutly ; and he turned on the King those glitter- 
 ing eyes (micantes oculos), which the chroniclers 
 have praised and noted. For it was his hope and 
 his aim in this visit, that his cousin Edward should 
 formally promise him that goodly heritage of 
 England. But the King made no rejoinder, and 
 they now neared the end of the bridge. 
 
 "What old ruin looms yonder ?"* asked William, 
 
 * There seems good reason for believing that a keep did stand 
 where the Tower stands, before the Conquest, and that William's 
 edifice spared some of its remains. In the very interesting 
 letter from John Bayford relating to the City of London, (Lei. 
 Collect. Iviii.), the writer, a thorough master of his subject, states, 
 that " the Romans made a public military way, that of Watling- 
 street, from the Tower to Ludgate, in a straight line, at the end 
 of which they built stations or citadels, one of which was where 
 the White Tower now stands." Bayford adds that " when the 
 White Tower was fitted up for the reception of records, there 
 remained many Saxon inscriptions."
 
 64 HAROLD. 
 
 hiding his disappointment at Edward's silence ; 
 " it seemeth the remains of some stately keape, 
 which, by its fashion, I should pronounce Ro- 
 man." 
 
 " Ay !" said Edward, " it is said to have been 
 built by the Romans ; and one of the old Lom- 
 bard freemasons employed on my new palace of 
 Westminster, giveth that, and some others in my 
 domain, the name of the Juillet Tower." 
 
 " Those Romans were our masters in all things 
 gallant and wise," said William ; " and I predict 
 that, some day or other, on that site, a King of 
 England will re-erect palace and tower. And yon 
 castle towards the west ?" 
 
 "Is the Tower Palatine, where our predeces- 
 sors have lodged, and ourself sometimes ; but the 
 sweet loneliness of Thorney Isle pleaseth me 
 more now." 
 
 Thus talking, they entered London, a rude, 
 dark city, built mainly of timbered houses ; streets 
 narrow and winding ; windows rarely glazed, but 
 protected chiefly by linen blinds ; vistas opening, 
 however, at times into broad spaces, round the 
 various convents, where green trees grew up
 
 HAROLD. 65 
 
 behind low palisades. Tall roods, and holy 
 images, to which we owe the names of exist- 
 ing thoroughfares, (Rood-lane and Lady-lane,*) 
 where the ways crossed, attracted the curious, 
 and detained the pious. Spires there were not 
 then, but blunt cone-headed turrets, pyramidal, 
 denoting the Houses of God, rose often from 
 the low, thatched, and reeded roofs. But every 
 now and then, a scholar's, if not an ordinary, 
 eye could behold the relics of Roman splendour, 
 traces of that elder city which now lies buried 
 under our thoroughfares, and of which, year by 
 year, are dug up the stately skeletons. 
 
 Along the Thames still rose, though much mu- 
 tilated, the wall of Constantino, f Round the 
 humble and barbarous Church of St. Paul's, 
 (wherein lay the dust of Sebba, that king of the 
 East Saxons who quitted his throne for the sake 
 of Christ, and of Edward's feeble and luckless 
 father, Ethelred,) might be seen, still gigantic in 
 decay, the ruins of the vast temple of Diana.* 
 Many a church, and many a convent, pieced their 
 
 * Rude-lane. Lad-lane. BAYFORD. 
 f FmsTEPHEN. J CAMDEN.
 
 66 HAROLD. 
 
 mingled brick and timber work with Roman 
 o 
 
 capital and shaft. Still by the tower, to which 
 was afterwards given the Saracen name of Bar- 
 bican, were the wrecks of the Roman station, 
 where cohorts watched night and day, in case of 
 fire within or foe without.* 
 
 In a niche, near the Aldersgate, stood the head- 
 less statue of Fortitude, which monks and pil- 
 grims deemed some unknown saint in the old 
 time, and halted to honour. And in the midst of 
 Bishopsgate-street, sate on his desecrated throne 
 a mangled Jupiter, his eagle at his feet. Many 
 a half-converted Dane there lingered, and mistook 
 the Thunderer and the bird for Odin and his 
 hawk. By Leod-gate (the People's gatef) still 
 too were seen the arches of one of those mighty 
 aqueducts which the Roman learned from the 
 Etrurian. And close by the Still-yard, occupied 
 by "the Emperor's cheap men" (the German 
 merchants), stood, almost entire, the Roman 
 temple, extant in the time of Geoffrey of Mon- 
 mouth. Without the walls, the old Roman vine- 
 
 * BATFORD, Leland's Collectanea, p. Iviii. 
 t Ludgate (Leod-gate). VERSTEGAX.
 
 HAROLD. 67 
 
 yards* still put forth their green leaves and crude 
 clusters, in the plains of East Smithfield, in the 
 fields of St. Giles's, and on the site where now 
 stands Hatton Garden. Still masseref and cheap- 
 men chaffered and bargained, at booth and stall, 
 in Mart-lane, where the Romans had bartered 
 before them. With every encroachment on new 
 soil, within the walls and without, urn, vase, 
 weapon, human bones, were shovelled out, and 
 lay disregarded amidst heaps of rubbish. 
 
 Not on such evidences of the past civilization 
 looked the practical eye of the Norman Count ; 
 not on things, but on men, looked he ; and as 
 silently he rode on from street to street, out of 
 those men, stalwart and tall, busy, active, toiling, 
 
 * The question whether or not real vineyards were grown, or 
 real wine made from them in England, has been a very vexed 
 question among the antiquaries. But it is scarcely possible to 
 read Pegge's dispute with Daines Barrington in the Archceologia 
 Avithout deciding both questions in the affirmative. See Arcliaol. 
 vol. iii. p. 53. An engraving of the Saxon wine-press is given 
 in STRUTT'S Horda. Vineyards fell into disuse, either by treaty 
 with France, or Gascony falling into the hands of the English. 
 But vineyards were cultivated by private gentlemen as late as 
 1621. Our first wines from Bordeaux the true country of Bac- 
 chus appear to have been imported about 1154, by the marriage 
 of Henry II. with Eleanor of Aquitaine. 
 
 f Massere, merchant, mercer.
 
 68 HAROLD. 
 
 the Man-Ruler saw the Civilization that was to 
 come. 
 
 So, gravely through the small city, and over the 
 bridge that spanned the little river of the Fleet, 
 rode the train along the Strand; to the left, 
 smooth sands ; to the right, fair pastures below 
 green holts, thinly studded with houses ; over 
 numerous cuts and inlets running into the river, 
 rode they on. The hour and the season were those 
 in which youth enjoyed its holiday, and gay groups 
 resorted to the then* fashionable haunts of the 
 Fountain of Holy well, " streaming forth amongst 
 glistening pebbles." 
 
 So they gained at length the village of Charing, 
 which Edward had lately bestowed on his Abbey 
 of Westminster, and which was now filled with 
 workmen, native and foreign, employed on that 
 edifice and the contiguous palace. Here they 
 loitered awhile at the Mewsf (where the hawks 
 were kept), passed by the rude palace of stone 
 
 * FlTZSTEPHEN. 
 
 f Meuae. Apparently rather a hawk hospital, from Muta 
 (Camden). Du Fresne, in his Glossary, says, Muta is in French 
 LaMeue, and a disease to which the hawk wassubjecton chang- 
 ing its feathers.
 
 HAROLD. 69 
 
 and rubble, appropriated to the tributary kings of 
 Scotland* a gift from Edgar to Kenneth and 
 finally, reaching the inlet of the river, which, 
 winding round the Isle of Thorney (now West- 
 minster), separated the rising church, abbey, and 
 palace, of the Saint-king from the main land, dis- 
 mounted and were ferried acrossf the narrow 
 stream to the broad space round the royal resi- 
 dence. 
 
 * Scotland Yard. STRYPE. 
 
 f The first bridge that connected Thorney Isle with the main- 
 land is said to have been built by Matilda, wife of Henry I.
 
 CHAPTER V/" 
 
 THE new palace of Edward the Confessor, the 
 palace of Westminster, opened its gates to receive 
 the Saxon King and the Norman Duke, remount- 
 ing on the margin of the isle, and now riding side 
 by side. And as the Duke glanced from brows, ha- 
 bitually knit, first over the pile, stately though not 
 yet completed, with its long rows of round arched 
 windows, cased by indented fringes and frtet (or 
 tooth) work, its sweep of solid columns with cir- 
 cling cloisters, and its ponderous towers of simple 
 grandeur ; then over the groups of courtiers, 
 with close vests, and short mantles and beardless 
 cheeks, that filled up the wide space, to gaze in 
 homage on the renowned guest, his heart swelled 
 within him, and, checking his rein, he drew near 
 to his brother of Bayeux, and whispered :
 
 HAROLD. 71 
 
 " Is not this .already the court of the Norman ? 
 Behold yon nobles and earls, how they mimic 
 our garb ! behold the very stones in yon gate, 
 how they range themselves, as if carved by the 
 hand of the Norman mason ! Verily and indeed, 
 brother, the shadow of the rising sun rests already 
 in these halls." 
 
 " Had England no people," said the bishop, 
 " England were yours already. But saw you not, 
 as we rode along, the lowering brows ? and heard 
 you not the angry murmurs ? The villeins are 
 many, and their hate is strong." 
 
 " Strong is the roan I bestride," said the Duke ; 
 ' but a bold rider curbs it with the steel of the 
 bit, and guides it with the goad of the heel." 
 
 And noAV, as they neared the gate, a band of 
 minstrels in the pay of the Norman touched their 
 instruments, and woke their song the household 
 song of the Norman the battle hymn of Roland, 
 the Paladin of Charles the Great. At the first 
 word of the song, the Norman knights and youths, 
 profusely scattered amongst the Normanized Sax- 
 ons, caught up the lay, and with sparkling eyes, 
 and choral voices, they welcomed the mighty
 
 72 HAROLD. 
 
 Duke into the palace of the last meek successor 
 of Woden. 
 
 By the porch of the inner court the Duke flung 
 himself from his saddle, and held the stirrup for 
 Edward to dismount. The King placed his hand 
 gently on his guest's broad shoulder, and, having 
 somewhat slowly reached the ground, embraced 
 and kissed him in the sight of the gorgeous assem- 
 blage ; then led him by the hand towards the fail- 
 chamber which was set apart for the Duke, and 
 so left him to his attendants. 
 
 William, lost in thought, suffered himself to 
 be disrobed in silence; but when Fitzosborne, 
 his favourite confidant and haughtiest baron, who 
 yet deemed himself but honoured by personal 
 attendance on his chief, conducted him towards 
 the bath, which adjoined the chamber, he drew 
 back, and wrapping round him more closely the 
 gown of fur that had been thrown over his shoul- 
 ders, he muttered low, " Nay, if there be on 
 me yet one speck of English dust, let it rest there ! 
 seizin, Fitzosborne, seizin, of the English 
 laud." Then, waving his hand, he dismissed all 
 his attendants except Fitzosborne, and Rolf,
 
 HAROLD. 73 
 
 Earl of Hereford,* nephew to Edward, but 
 French on the father's side, and thoroughly in 
 the Duke's councils. Twice the Duke paced the 
 chamber without vouchsafing a word to either, 
 then paused by the round window that overlooked 
 the Thames. The scene was fair ; the sun, towards 
 its decline, glittered on numerous small plea- 
 sure-boats, w r hich shot to and fro between West- 
 minster and London, or towards the opposite 
 shores of Lambeth. His eye sought eagerly, 
 along the curves of the river, the grey remains 
 of the fabled Tower of Julius, and the walls, 
 gates, and turrets, that rose by the stream, or 
 above the dense mass of silent roofs ; then it 
 strained hard to descry the tops of the more dis- 
 tant masts of that infant navy, fostered under 
 Alfred, the far-seeing, for the future civiliza- 
 tion of wastes unknown, and the empire of seas 
 untracked. 
 
 The Duke breathed hard, and opened and closed 
 the hand which he stretched forth into space, as 
 
 * We give him that title, which this Norman noble generally 
 bears in the Chronicles, though Palgrave observes that he is 
 rather to be styled Earl of the Magesetan (the Welch Marches). 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 HAROLD. 
 
 if to grasp the city he beheld. " Rolf," said he, 
 abruptly, " thou knowest, no doubt, the wealth 
 of the London traders, one and all ; for, foi de 
 Guillaume, my gentil chevalier, thou art a true 
 Norman, and scentest the smell of gold as a 
 hound the boar !" 
 
 Rolf smiled, as if pleased with a compliment 
 which simpler men might have deemed, at the 
 best, equivocal, and replied, 
 
 " It is true, my liege ; and gramercy, the air 
 of England sharpens the scent ; for in this vil- 
 lein and motley country, made up of all races, 
 Saxon and Fin, Dane and Fleming, Pict and 
 Walloon, it is not as with us, where the brave 
 man and the pure descent are held chief in 
 honour : here, gold and land are, in truth, name 
 and lordship; even their popular name for their 
 national assembly of the Witan is, ' The Weal- 
 thy.'* He who is but a ceorl to-day, let him be 
 rich, and he may be earl to-morrow, marry in 
 king's blood, and rule armies under a gonfanon 
 statelier than a king's ; while he whose fathers 
 were ealdormen and princes, if, by force or by 
 * Eacligan. S. TURNER, vol. i. p. 274.
 
 HAROLD. 75 
 
 fraud, by waste or by largess, he become poor, 
 falls at once into contempt, and out of his state, 
 sinks into a class they call e six-hundred men,' 
 in their barbarous tongue, and his children will 
 probably sink still lower, into ceorls. Wherefore 
 gold is the thing here most coveted; and, by 
 St. Michael, the sin is infectious." 
 
 William listened to the speech with close 
 attention : 
 
 "Good," said he, rubbing slowly the palm of 
 his right hand over the back of the left ; " a land 
 all compact with the power of one race, a race 
 of conquering men, as our fathers were, whom 
 nought but cowardice or treason can degrade, 
 such a land, O Rolf of Hereford, it were hard 
 indeed to subjugate, or decoy, or tame ; " 
 
 " So has my lord the Duke found the Bretons; 
 and so also do I find the Welch upon my marches 
 of Hereford." 
 
 " But," continued William, not heeding the in- 
 terruption, " where wealth is more than blood and 
 race, chiefs may be bribed or menaced ; and the 
 multitude by'r Lady, the multitude are the 
 same in all lands, mighty under valiant and faith- 
 E 2
 
 76 HAROLD. 
 
 ful leaders, powerless as sheep without them. 
 But to my question, my gentle Rolf; this London 
 must be rich ? "* 
 
 " Rich enow," answered Rolf, " to coin into 
 armed men, that should stretch from Rouen to 
 Flanders on the one hand, and Paris on the 
 other." 
 
 " In the veins of Matilda, whom thou wooest 
 for wife," said Fitzosborne, abruptly, " flows the 
 blood of Charlemagne. God grant his empire to 
 the children she shall bear thee ! " 
 
 The Duke bowed his head, and kissed a relic 
 suspended from his throat. Farther sign of ap- 
 proval of his counsellor's words he gave not, but, 
 after a pause, he said, 
 
 " When I depart, Rolf, thou wendest back to 
 thy marches. These Welch are brave and fierce, 
 and shape work enow for thy hands." 
 
 " Ay, by my halidame ! poor sleep by the side 
 of the beehive you have stricken down." 
 
 * The comparative wealth of London was indeed considerable. 
 When, in 1018, all the rest of England was taxed to an amount 
 considered stupendous, viz. 71,000 Saxon pounds, London con- 
 tributed 11,000 pounds besides.
 
 HAROLD. 77 
 
 " Marry, then," said William, " let the Welch 
 prey on Saxon, Saxon on Welch ; let neither 
 win too easily. Remember our omens to-day, 
 Welch hawk and Saxon bittern, and over their 
 corpses, Duke William's Nonvay falcon ! Now 
 dress we for the complin* and the banquet." 
 
 * Complin, the second vespers.
 
 BOOK II, 
 
 LANFRANC THE SCHOLAR.
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 FOUR meals a day, nor those sparing, were not 
 deemed too extravagant an interpretation of the 
 daily bread for which the Saxon prayed. Four 
 meals a day, from earl to ceorl ! " Happy times !' ' 
 may sigh the descendant of the last, if he read 
 these pages; partly so they were for the ceorl, 
 but not in all things, for never sweet is the food, 
 and never gladdening is the drink, of servitude. 
 Inebriety, the vice of the warlike nations of the 
 North, had not, perhaps, been the pre-eminent 
 excess of the earlier Saxons, while yet the active 
 and fiery Britons, and the subsequent petty wars 
 between the kings of the Heptarchy, enforced on 
 hardy warriors the safety of temperance; but 
 the example of the Danes had been fatal. Those 
 giants of the sea, like all who pass from 
 E 3
 
 82 HAROLD. 
 
 great vicissitudes of toil and repose, from the 
 tempest to the haven, snatched with full hands 
 every pleasure in their reach. With much that 
 tended permanently to elevate the character of 
 the Saxon, they imparted much for a time to 
 degrade it. The Anglian learned to feast to re- 
 pletion, and drink to delirium. But such were not 
 the vices of the court of the Confessor. Brought 
 up from his youth in the cloister-camp of the 
 Normans, what he loved in their manners was the 
 abstemious sobriety, and the ceremonial religion, 
 which distinguished those sons of the Scandi- 
 navian from all other kindred tribes. 
 
 The Norman position in France, indeed, in 
 much resembled that of the Spartan in Greece. 
 He had forced a settlement with scanty numbers 
 in the midst of a subjugated and sullen popula- 
 tion, surrounded by jealous and formidable foes. 
 Hence sobriety was a condition of his being, 
 ancl the policy of the chief lent a willing ear to 
 the lessons of the preacher. Like the Spartan, 
 every Norman of pure race was free and noble ; 
 and this consciousness inspired not only that re- 
 markable dignity of mien which Spartan and
 
 HAROLD. 83 
 
 Norman alike possessed, but also that fastidious 
 self-respect which would have revolted from ex- 
 hibiting a spectacle of debasement to inferiors. 
 And, lastly, as the paucity of their original num- 
 bers, the perils that beset, and the good fortune 
 that attended them, served to render the Spartans 
 the most religious of all the Greeks in their de- 
 pendence on the Divine aid ; so, perhaps, to the 
 same causes may be traced the proverbial piety of 
 the ceremonial Normans ; they carried into their 
 new creed something of feudal loyalty to their 
 spiritual protectors ; did homage to the Virgin 
 for the lands that she vouchsafed to bestow, and 
 recognised in St. Michael the chief who conducted 
 their armies. 
 
 After hearing the complin vespers in the 
 temporary chapel fitted up in that unfinished 
 abbey of Westminster, which occupied the site 
 of the temple of Apollo,* the King and his 
 
 * CAMDEN. A church was built out of the ruins of that tem- 
 ple by Sibert, King of the East Saxons ; and Canute favoured 
 much the small monastery attached to it (originally established 
 by Dunstan for twelve Benedictines), on account of its Abbot 
 Wulnoth, whose society pleased him. The old palace of Canute, 
 in Thorney Isle, had been destroyed by fire.
 
 84 HAROLD. 
 
 guests repaired to their evening meal in the great 
 hall of the palace. Below the dais were ranged 
 three long tables for the knights in William's 
 train, and that flower of the Saxon nobility who, 
 fond, like all youth, of change and imitation, 
 thronged the court of their Normanized saint, 
 and scorned the rude patriotism of their fathers. 
 But hearts truly English were not there. Yea, 
 many of Godwin's noblest foes sighed for the 
 English-hearted Earl, banished by Norman guile 
 on behalf of English law. 
 
 At the oval table on the dais the guests were 
 select and chosen. At the right hand of the 
 Bang sat William; at the left, Odo of Bayeux. 
 Over these three stretched a canopy of cloth of gold; 
 the chairs on which each sate were of metal, richly 
 gilded over, and the arms carved in elaborate 
 arabesques. At this table, too, was the King's 
 nephew, the Earl of Hereford, and, in right of 
 kinsmanship to the Duke, the Norman's beloved 
 baron and grand seneschal, William Fitzosborne, 
 who, though in Normandy even he sate not at the 
 Duke's table, was, as related to his lord, invited by 
 Edward to his own. No other guests were admitted
 
 HAROLD. 85 
 
 to this board, so that, save Edward, all were Nor- 
 man. The dishes were of gold and silver, the 
 cups inlaid with jewels. Before each guest was a 
 knife, with hilt adorned by precious stones, and a 
 napkin fringed with silver. The meats were not 
 placed on the table, but served upon small spits, 
 and between every course a basin of perfumed 
 water was borne round by high-born pages. No 
 dame graced the festival; for she who should have 
 presided she, matchless for beauty without pride, 
 piety without asceticism, and learning without 
 pedantry she, the pale rose of England, loved 
 daughter of Godwin, and loathed wife of Edward, 
 had shared in the fall of her kindred, and had 
 been sent by the meek King, or his fierce 
 counsellors, to an abbey in Hampshire, with 
 the taunt "that it was not meet that the child and 
 sister should enjoy state and pomp, while the sire 
 and brethren ate the bread of the stranger in 
 banishment and disgrace." 
 
 But, hungry as were the guests, it was not the 
 custom of that holy court to fall to without due 
 religious ceremonial. The rage for psalm- singing 
 Avas then at its height in England ; psalmody had
 
 86 HAROLD. 
 
 excluded almost every other description of vocal 
 music ; and it is even said that great festivals 
 on certain occasions were preluded by no less 
 an effort of lungs and memory than the entire 
 songs bequeathed to us by King David! This 
 day, however, Hugoline, Edward's Norman cham- 
 berlain, had been pleased to abridge the length of 
 the prolix grace, and the company were let off, to 
 Edward's surprise and displeasure, with the curt 
 and unseemly preparation of only nine psalms and 
 one special hymn in honour of some obscure 
 saint to whom the day was dedicated. This 
 performed, the guests resumed their seats, 
 Edward murmuring an apology to William for 
 the strange omission of his chamberlain, and 
 saying thrice to himself, " Naught, naught 
 very naught." 
 
 The mirth languished at the royal table, 
 despite some gay efforts from Rolf, and some 
 hollow attempts at lighthearted cheerfulness from 
 the great Duke, whose eyes, wandering down the 
 table, were endeavouring to distinguish Saxon 
 from Norman, and count how many of the first 
 might already be reckoned in the train of his
 
 HAROLD. 87 
 
 friends. But at the long tables below, as the 
 feast thickened, and ale, mead, pigment, morat, 
 and wine circled round, the tongue of the Saxon 
 was loosed, and the Norman knight lost some- 
 what of his superb gravity. It was just as what 
 a Danish poet called the " sun of the night," 
 (in other words, the fierce warmth of the wine,) 
 had attained its meridian glow, that some slight 
 disturbance at the doors of the hall, without 
 which waited a dense crowd of the poor, on whom 
 the fragments of the feast Avere afterwards to be 
 bestowed, was followed by the entrance of two 
 strangers, for whom the officers appointed to 
 marshal the entertainment made room at the foot 
 of one of the tables. Both these new comers 
 were clad with extreme plainness ; one in a dress, 
 though not quite monastic, that of an ecclesiastic 
 of low degree ; the other in a long grey mantle 
 and loose gonna, the train of which last was tucked 
 into a broad leathern belt, leaving bare the 
 leggings, which showed limbs of great bulk and 
 sinew, and which were stained by the dust and 
 mire of travel. The first mentioned was slight 
 and small of person ; the last was of the height
 
 88 HAROLD. 
 
 and port of the sons of Anak. The countenance 
 of neither could be perceived, for both had let fall 
 the hood, worn by civilians as by priests out of 
 doors, more than half way over their faces. 
 
 A murmur of great surprise, disdain, and resent- 
 ment, at the intrusion of strangers so attired, 
 circulated round the neighbourhood in which 
 they had been placed, checked for a moment by 
 a certain air of respect which the officer had 
 shewn towards both, but especially the taller; 
 but breaking out with greater vivacity from the 
 faint restraint, as the tall man unceremoniously 
 stretched across the board, drew towards himself 
 an immense flagon, which (agreeably to the custom 
 of arranging the feast in " messes " of four,) had 
 been specially appropriated to Ulf the Dane, God- 
 rith the Saxon, and two young Norman knights 
 akin to the puissant Lord of Grantmesnil, and 
 having offered it to his comrade, who shook his 
 head, drained it with a gusto that seemed to 
 bespeak him at least no Norman, and wiped 
 his lips boorishly with the sleeve of his huge 
 arm. 
 
 "Dainty sir," said one of those Norman knights,
 
 HAROLD. 89 
 
 William Mallet, of the house of Mallet de Gra- 
 ville,* as he moved as far from the gigantic in- 
 truder as the space on the settle would permit, 
 " forgive the observation, that you have damaged 
 my mantle, you have grazed my foot, and you 
 have drunk my wine. And vouchsafe, if it so 
 please you, the face of the man who hath done 
 this triple wrong to William Mallet de Gra- 
 ville." 
 
 A kind of laugh for laugh absolute it was 
 not rattled under the cowl of the tall stranger, 
 as he drew it still closer over his face, with a 
 hand that might have spanned the breast of his 
 interrogator, and he made a gesture as if he did 
 not understand the question addressed to him. 
 
 Therewith the Norman knight, bending with 
 demure courtesy across the board to Godrith the 
 Saxon, said, 
 
 " Pardex,^ but this fair guest and seigneur 
 seemeth to me, noble Godree (whose name I fear 
 
 * See Note to PLTJQUET'S Roman deRou, p. 285. 
 
 N.B. Whenever the Roman de Rou is quoted in these pages, 
 it is from the excellent edition of M. Pluquet. 
 
 t Pardex, or Parde, corresponding to the modern French ex- 
 pletive, par die.
 
 90 HAROLD. 
 
 my lips do but rudely enounce), of Saxon line 
 and language ; our Romance tongue he knoweth 
 not. Pray you, is it the Saxon custom to enter 
 a king's hall so garbed, and drink a knight's wine 
 so mutely ?" 
 
 Godrith, a young Saxon of considerable rank, 
 but one of the most sedulous of the imitators of 
 the foreign fashions, coloured high at the irony 
 in the knight's speech, and turning rudely to the 
 huge guest, who was now causing immense frag- 
 ments of pasty to vanish under the cavernous 
 cowl, he said in his native tongue, though with 
 a lisp as if unfamiliar to him, 
 
 " If thou beest Saxon, shame us not with thy 
 ceorlish manners; crave pardon of this Norman 
 thegn, who will doubtless yield it to thee in pity. 
 Uncover thy face and " 
 
 Here the Saxon's rebuke was interrupted ; for, 
 one of the servitors, just then approaching God- 
 rith's side with a spit, elegantly caparisoned with 
 some score of plump larks, the unmannerly 
 giant stretched out his arm within an inch of the 
 Saxon's startled nose, and possessed himself of 
 larks, broche, and all. He drew off two, which
 
 HAROLD. 9 1 
 
 he placed on his friend's platter, despite all dis- 
 suasive gesticulations, and deposited the rest upon 
 his own. The young banqueters gazed upon the 
 spectacle in wrath too full for words. 
 
 At last spoke Mallet de Graville, with an en- 
 vious eye upon the larks for though a Norman 
 was not gluttonous, he was epicurean " Certes, 
 and foi de chevalier ! a man must go into strange 
 parts if he wish to see monsters; but we are 
 fortunate people," (and he tumed to his Norman 
 friend Aymer, Quen* or Count, D'Evreux,) 
 " that we have discovered Polyphemus without 
 going so far as Ulysses ;" and, pointing to the 
 hooded giant, he quoted, appropriately enough, 
 
 " Monstrum, horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen ademptnm." 
 
 * Quen, or rather Quens : synonymous with Count in the 
 Norman Chronicles. Earl Godwin is strangely styled by Wace, 
 Quens Gwine. Those old French writers were as inhuman muti- 
 lators of our English names and titles as their modern descend- 
 ants. I apprehend that our distinguished countrywoman, Miss 
 Strickland (Life of Matilda of Flanders) is wrong in supposing 
 that the Norman Quen has the slightest affinity to the Saxon 
 word from which we derive the title of Queen : and I am quite 
 sure that Miss Strickland has been led by a distinguished French 
 historian into a mistake, when she says that Matilda was the first
 
 92 HAROLD. 
 
 The giant continued to devour his larks, as com- 
 placently as the ogre to whom he was likened 
 might have devoured the Greeks in his cave. 
 But his fellow-intruder seemed agitated by the 
 sound of the Latin; he lifted up his head sud- 
 denly, and showed lips glistening with white 
 even teeth, and curved into an approving 
 smile, while he said: " Bene, mi fili ! bene, lepi- 
 dissime, poetce verba, in militis ore, non indecora 
 sonant." * 
 
 The young Norman stared at the speaker, and 
 replied, in the same tone of grave affectation, 
 " Courteous Sir ! the approbation of an ecclesiastic 
 so eminent as I take you to be, from the modesty 
 with which you conceal your greatness, cannot 
 fail to draw upon me the envy of my English 
 friends; who are accustomed to swear in verba 
 magistri, only for verba they learnedly substitute 
 vina" 
 
 " You are pleasant, Sire Mallet," said Godrith, 
 
 consort of a king of England styled Regina. In the Charter of 
 Edward j(ap. Ingulf,) Edith is called Regina " testibns Regina mea, 
 Edfio, Alfrico," &c. 
 
 * " Good, good, pleasant son, the words of the poet sound 
 gracefully on the lips of the knight."
 
 HAROLD. 93 
 
 reddening ; " but I know well that Latin is only 
 fit for monks and shavelings; and little enow 
 even they have to boast of." 
 
 The Norman's lip curled in disdain. " Latin ! 
 O, Godree, lien aimc \ Latin is the tongue of 
 Caesars and senators, fortes conquerors and preux 
 chevaliers. Knowest thou not that Duke William 
 the dauntless at eight years old had the Com- 
 ments of Julius Csesar by heart ? and that it is 
 his saying, that ( a king without letters is a 
 crowned ass?'* When the king is an ass, asi- 
 nine are his subjects. Wherefore go to school, 
 speak respectfully of thy betters, the monks and 
 shavelings, who with us are often brave captains 
 and sage councillors, and learn that a full head 
 makes a weighty hand." 
 
 " Thy name, young knight ?" said the eccle- 
 siastic, in Norman French, though with a slight 
 foreign accent. 
 
 " I can give it thee," said the giant, speak- 
 ing aloud for the first time, in the same lan- 
 guage, and in a rough voice, which a quick 
 
 * A sentiment variously assigned to William and to his son 
 Henry the Beau Clerc.
 
 94 HAROLD. 
 
 ear might have detected as disguised, " I can 
 describe to thee name, birth, and quality. By 
 name, this youth is Guillaume Mallet, some- 
 times styled De Graville, because our Norman 
 gentilhommes, forsooth, must always now have a 
 ' de ' tacked to their names ; nevertheless he hath 
 no other right to the seigneurie of Graville, 
 which appertains to the head of his house, than 
 may be conferred by an old tower on one corner 
 of the demesnes so designated, with lands that 
 would feed one horse and two villeins if they were 
 not in pawn to a Jew for moneys to buy velvet 
 mantelines and a chain of gold. By birth, he 
 comes from Mallet,* a bold Norwegian in the 
 fleet of Rou the Sea-king ; his mother was a 
 Frank woman, from whom he inherits his best 
 possessions videlicet, a shrewd wit and a railing 
 tongue. His qualities are abstinence, for he 
 eateth nowhere save at the cost of another some 
 Latin, for he was meant for a monk, because he 
 seemed too slight of frame for a warrior some 
 courage, for in spite of his frame he slew three 
 Burgundians with his own hand ; and Duke 
 * Mallet is a genuine Scandinavian name to this day.
 
 HAROLD. 95 
 
 William, among other foolish acts, spoilt a friar 
 sans tacke, by making a knight sans terre ; and 
 for the rest " 
 
 " And for the rest," interrupted the Sire de 
 Graville, turning white with wrath, but speaking 
 in a low repressed voice, " were it not that Duke 
 William sate yonder, thou shouldst have six inches 
 of cold steel in thy huge carcase to digest thy stolen 
 dinner, and silence thy unmannerly tongue. " 
 
 " For the rest," continued the giant indif- 
 ferently, and as if he had not heard the interrup- 
 tion ; " for the rest, he only resembles Achilles, 
 in being improper, iracundus. Big men can quote 
 Latin as well as little ones, Messire Mallet the 
 beau clerc ! " 
 
 Mallet's hand was on his dagger; and his eye 
 dilated like that of the panther before he springs; 
 but fortunately, at that moment, the deep sono- 
 rous voice of William, accustomed to send its 
 sounds down the ranks of an army, rolled clear 
 through the assemblage, though pitched little 
 above its ordinary key : 
 
 " Fair is your feast, and bright your wine, 
 Sir King and brother mine! But I miss here
 
 96 HAROLD. 
 
 what king and knight hold as the salt of the feast 
 and the perfume to the wine: the lay of the 
 minstrel. Beshrew me, but both Saxon and Nor- 
 man are of kindred stock, and love to hear 
 in hall and bower the deeds of their northern 
 fathers. Crave I therefore from your gleemen, 
 or harpers, some song of the olden time I " 
 
 A murmur of applause went through the Nor- 
 man part of the assembly ; the Saxons looked up ; 
 and some of the more practised courtiers sighed 
 wearily, for they knew well what ditties alone 
 were in favour with the saintly Edward. 
 
 The low voice of the King in reply was not 
 heard, but those habituated to read his counte- 
 nance in its very faint varieties of expression, 
 might have seen that it conveyed reproof ; and its 
 purport soon became practically known, when a 
 lugubrious prelude was heard from a quarter of 
 the hall, in which sate certain ghostlike musicians 
 in white robes white as winding-sheets; and 
 forthwith a dolorous and dirgelike voice chaunted 
 a long, and most tedious recital of the mira- 
 cles and martyrdom of some early saint. So 
 monotonous was the chaunt, that its effect soon
 
 HAROLD. 97 
 
 became visible in a general drowsiness. And when 
 Edward, who alone listened with attentive delight, 
 turned towards the close to gather sympathizing 
 admiration from his distinguished guests, he saw his 
 nephew yawning as if his jaw were dislocated 
 the Bishop of Bayeux, with his well-ringed fingers 
 interlaced and resting on his stomach, fast asleep 
 Fitzosborne's small half-shaven head balancing 
 to and fro with many an uneasy start and Wil- 
 liam, wide awake indeed, but with eyes fixed on 
 vacant space, and his soul far away from the 
 gridiron to which (all other saints be praised !) the 
 saint of the ballad had at last happily arrived. 
 
 "A comforting and salutary recital, Count 
 William," said the King. 
 
 The Duke started from his reverie, and bowed 
 his head : then said rather abruptly, " Is not yon 
 blazon that of King Alfred ?" 
 
 "Yea. Wherefore?" 
 
 " Hem ! Matilda of Flanders is in direct descent 
 from Alfred : it is a name and a line the Saxons 
 yet honour!" 
 
 " Surely, yes ; Alfred was a great man, and re- 
 formed the Psalmster," replied Edward, 
 
 VOL. i. F
 
 98 HAROLD. 
 
 The dirge ceased, but so benumbing had been 
 its effect, that the torpor it created, did not sub- 
 side with the cause. There was a dead and funereal 
 silence throughout the spacious hall, when sud- 
 denly, loudly, mightily, as the blast of the trum- 
 pet upon the hush of the grave, rose a single voice. 
 All started all turned all looked to one direc- 
 tion ; and they saw, that the great voice pealed from 
 the farthest end of the hall. From under his gown 
 the gigantic stranger had drawn a small three- 
 stringed instrument somewhat resembling the 
 modern lute and thus he sang, 
 
 THE BALLAD OF ROIL* 
 I. 
 
 From Blois to Senlis, wave by wave, roll'd on the 
 
 Norman flood, 
 And Frank on Frank went drifting down the 
 
 welter-tide of blood ; 
 There was not left in all the land a castle wall to 
 
 fire, 
 And not a wife but wailed a lord, a child but 
 
 mourned a sire. 
 
 * Rou the name given by the French to Rollo, or Rolf-ganger, 
 the founder of the Norman settlement.
 
 HAROLD. 99 
 
 To Charles the king, the mitred monks, the 
 
 mailed barons flew, 
 While, .shaking earth, behind them strode the 
 
 thunder march of Rou. 
 
 ii. 
 
 " O King," then cried those barons bold, " in vain 
 
 are mace and mail, 
 We fall before the Norman axe, as corn before 
 
 the hail." 
 " And vainly," cried the pious monks, " by Mary's 
 
 shrine we kneel, 
 For prayers, like arrows, glance aside, against 
 
 the Norman steel." 
 The barons groaned, the shavelings wept, while 
 
 near and nearer drew, 
 As death-birds round their scented feast, the 
 
 raven flags of Rou. 
 
 in. 
 Then said King Charles, " Where thousands fail, 
 
 what king can stand alone ? 
 The strength of kings is in the men that gather 
 
 round the throne. 
 When war dismays my barons bold, 'tis time for 
 
 war to cease ; 
 When Heaven forsakes my pious monks, the will 
 
 of Heaven is peace. 
 
 F 2
 
 100 HAROLD. 
 
 Go forth, my monks, with mass and rood the 
 
 Norman camp unto, 
 And to the fold, with shepherd crook, entice this 
 
 grisly Rou. 
 
 IV. 
 
 " I '11 give him all the ocean coast, from Michael 
 Mount to Eure, 
 
 And Gille, my child, shall be his bride, to bind 
 him fast and sure ; 
 
 Let him but kiss the Christian cross, and sheathe 
 the heathen sword, 
 
 And hold the lands I cannot keep, a fief from 
 Charles his lord." 
 
 Forth went the Pastors of the Church, the Shep- 
 herd's work to do, 
 
 And wrap the golden fleece around the tiger loins 
 of Rou. 
 
 v. 
 
 Psalm-chanting came the shaven monks, within 
 
 the camp of dread ; 
 Amidst his warriors, Norman Rou stood taller by 
 
 the head. 
 Out spoke the Frank Archbishop then, a priest 
 
 devout and sage, 
 " When peace and plenty wait thy word, what 
 
 need of war and rage ?
 
 HAROLD. 101 
 
 Why waste a land as fair as aught beneath the 
 
 arch of blue, 
 Which might be thine to sow and reap ? Thus 
 
 saith the King to Rou : 
 
 VI. 
 
 ' " I '11 give thee all the ocean coast, from Michael 
 
 Mount to Eure, 
 And Gille, my fairest child, as bride, to bind thee 
 
 fast and sure ; 
 If thou but kneel to Christ our God, and sheathe 
 
 thy paynim sword, 
 And hold thy land, the Church's son, a fief from 
 
 Charles thy lord."' 
 The Norman on his warriors looked to counsel 
 
 they withdrew ; 
 The saints took pity on the Franks, and moved 
 
 the soul of Rou. 
 
 VII. 
 
 So back he strode and thus he spoke, to that 
 
 Archbishop meek : 
 " I take the land thy king bestows from Eure to 
 
 Michael-peak, 
 I take the maid, or foul or fair, a bargain with 
 
 the coast, 
 And for thy creed, a sea-king's gods are those that 
 
 give the most.
 
 102 HAROLD. 
 
 * 
 
 So liie thee back, and tell thy chief to make his 
 
 proffer true, 
 And he shall find a docile son, and ye a saint in 
 
 Rou." 
 
 VIII. 
 
 So o'er the border stream of Epte came Rou the 
 
 Norman, where, 
 Begirt with barons, sat the King, enthroned at 
 
 green St. Clair; 
 He placed his hand in Charles's hand, loud 
 
 shouted all the throng, 
 But tears were in King Charles's eyes the grip 
 
 of Rou was strong. 
 " Now kiss the foot," the Bishop said, " that 
 
 homage still is due ;" 
 Then dark the frown and stern the smile of that 
 
 grim convert, Rou. 
 
 IX. 
 
 He takes the foot, as if the foot to slavish lips to 
 
 bring : 
 The Normans scowl; he tilts the throne, and 
 
 backward falls the King. 
 Loud laugh the joyous Norman men pale stare 
 
 the Franks aghast ; 
 And Rou lifts up his head as from the wind 
 
 springs up the mast :
 
 HAROLD. 103 
 
 I 
 
 " I said I would adore a God, but not a mortal 
 
 too ; 
 The foot that fled before a foe let cowards kiss ! " 
 
 said Rou. 
 
 No words can express the excitement which 
 this rough minstrelsy marred as it is by our 
 poor translation from the Romance-tongue in 
 which it was chantedproduced amongst the 
 Norman guests; less perhaps, indeed, the song 
 itself, than the recognition of the minstrel; and 
 as he closed, from more than a hundred voices 
 came the loud murmur, only subdued from a 
 shout by the royal presence, " Taillefer, our 
 Norman Taillefer!" 
 
 " By our joint saint, Peter, my cousin the King," 
 exclaimed William, after a frank cordial laugh; 
 " well I wot, no tongue less free than my war- 
 rior minstrel's could have so shocked our ears. 
 Excuse his bold theme, for the sake of his bold 
 heart, I pray thee ; and since I knoAV well" (here 
 the Duke's face grew grave and anxious) "that 
 nought save urgent and weighty news from my
 
 104 HAROLD. 
 
 stormy realm could have brought over this rhym- 
 ing petronel, permit the officer behind me to lead 
 hither a bird, I fear, of omen as well as of song." 
 " Whatever pleases thee, pleases me," said 
 Edward, drily; and he gave the order to the 
 attendant. In a few moments, up the space in 
 the hall, between either table, came the large 
 stride of the famous minstrel, preceded by the 
 officer, and followed by the ecclesiastic. The 
 hoods of both were now thrown back, and dis- 
 covered countenances in strange contrast, but 
 each equally worthy of the attention it provoked. 
 The face of the minstrel was open and sunny as 
 the day ; that of the priest, dark and close as 
 night. Thick curls of deep auburn (the most 
 common colour for the locks of the Norman) 
 wreathed in careless disorder round Taillefer's 
 massive unwrinkled brow. His eye, of light 
 hazel, was bold and joyous ; mirth, though sar- 
 castic and sly, mantled round his lips. His whole 
 presence was at once engaging and heroic. 
 
 On the other hand, the priest's cheek was dark 
 and sallow; his features singularly delicate and 
 refined ; his forehead high, but somewhat narrow,
 
 HAROLD. 105 
 
 and crossed with the lines of thought ; his mien 
 composed, modest, but not without calm self-confi- 
 dence. Amongst that assembly of soldiers, noise- 
 less, self-collected, and conscious of his surpassing 
 power over swords and mail, moved the SCHOLAR. 
 
 William's keen eye rested on the priest with some 
 surprise, not unmixed with pride and ire ; but 
 first addressing Taillefer, who now gained the foot 
 of the dais, he said, with a familiarity almost fond, 
 
 " Now, by're Lady, if thou bringest not ill 
 news, thy gay face, man, is pleasanter to mine 
 eyes than thy rough song to my ears. Kneel, 
 Taillefer, kneel to King Edward, and with more 
 address, rogue, than our unlucky countryman to 
 King Charles." 
 
 But Edward, as ill-liking the form of the giant 
 as the subject of his lay, said, pushing back his 
 seat as far as he could, 
 
 " Nay, nay, we excuse thee, we excuse thee, 
 tall man." Nevertheless, the minstrel knelt, and 
 so, with a look of profound humility, did the 
 priest. Then both slowly rose, and at a sign 
 from the Duke, passed to the other side of the 
 table, standing behind Fitzosborne's chair. 
 F 3
 
 106 HAROLD. 
 
 " Clerk," said William, eyeing deliberately the 
 sallow face of the ecclesiastic ; " I know thee 
 of old ; and if the Church have sent me an envoy, 
 per la resplendar De, it should have sent me at 
 least an abbot." 
 
 " Hein, Hein ! " said Taillefer, bluntly ; " vex 
 not my bon camarade, Count of the Normans. 
 Gramercy, thou wilt welcome him, peradventure, 
 better than me ; for the singer tells but of discord, 
 and the sage may restore the harmony." 
 
 " Ha !" said the Duke, and the frown fell so 
 dark over his eyes that the last seemed only 
 visible by two sparks of fire. " I guess, my proud 
 Vavasours are mutinous. Retire, thou and thy 
 comrade. Await me in my chamber. The feast 
 shall not flag in London because the wind blows 
 a gale in Rouen." 
 
 The two envoys, since so they seemed, bowed 
 in silence and withdrew. 
 
 " Nought of ill-tidings, I trust," said Edward, 
 who had not listened to the whispered com- 
 munications that had passed between the Duke 
 and his subjects. " No schism in thy Church? 
 The clerk seemed a peaceful man, and a humble."
 
 HAROLD. 107 
 
 " An there were schism in my Church," said 
 the fiery Duke, " my brother of Bayeux would 
 settle it by arguments as close as the gap between 
 cord and throttle." 
 
 " Ah ! thou art, doubtless, well read in the 
 canons, holy Odo ?" said the King, turning to the 
 Bishop with more respect than he had yet evinced 
 towards that gentle prelate. 
 
 " Canons, yes, Seigneur, I draw them up myself 
 for my flock, conformably with such interpreta- 
 tions of the Roman Church as suit best with the 
 Norman realm ; and woe to deacon, monk, or 
 abbot, who chooses to misconstrue them." * 
 
 The Bishop looked so truculent and menacing, 
 while his fancy thus conjured up the possibility of 
 heretical dissent, that Edward shrank from him 
 as he had done from Taillefer ; and, in a few 
 minutes after, on exchange of signals between 
 himself and the Duke, who, impatient to escape, 
 
 * Pious severity to the heterodox was a Norman virtue. Wil- 
 liam of Poictiers says of William, " One knows with what zeal 
 he pursued and exterminated those who thought differently," i.e. 
 on transubstantiation. But the wise Norman, while flattering' 
 the tastes of the Roman Pontiff in such matters, took special 
 care to preserve the independence of his Church from any undue 
 dictation.
 
 108 HAROLD. 
 
 was too stately to testify that desire, the retire- 
 ment of the royal party broke up the banquet ; 
 save, indeed, that a few of the elder Saxons, and 
 more incorrigible Danes, still steadily kept their 
 seats, and were finally dislodged from their later 
 settlements on the stone floors, to find themselves, 
 at dawn, carefully propped in a row against the 
 outer walls of the palace, with their patient at- 
 tendants, holding links, and gazing on their 
 masters with stolid envy, if not of the repose, 
 at least of the drugs that had caused it.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " AND now," said William, reclining on a long 
 and narrow couch, with raised carved work all 
 round it like a box, (the approved fashion of a 
 bed in those days,) "Now, Sire Taillefer thy 
 news." 
 
 There were then in the Duke's chamber, the 
 Count Fitzosborne, Lord of Breteul, surnamed 
 " the Proud Spirit" who, with great dignity, 
 was holding before the brazier, the ample tunic 
 of linen (called dormitorium in the Latin of that 
 time, and night-rail in the Saxon tongue,) in 
 which his lord was to robe his formidable limbs 
 for repose,"* Taillefer, who stood erect before the 
 
 * A few generations later this comfortable and decent fashion 
 of night-gear was abandoned ; and our forefathers, Saxon and 
 Norman, went to bed in puris naturcdibus, like the Laplanders.
 
 110 HAROLD. 
 
 Duke as a Roman sentry at his post, and the 
 ecclesiastic, a little apart, with arms gathered 
 under his gown, and his bright dark eyes fixed on 
 the ground. 
 
 " High and puissant my liege," then said 
 Taillefer, gravely, and with a shade of sympathy 
 on his large face, "my news is such as is best 
 told briefly : Bunaz, Count d'Eu and descendant 
 of Richard Sanspeur, hath raised the standard 
 of revolt." 
 
 " Go on," said the Duke, clenching his hand. 
 
 " Henry, King of the French, is treating with 
 the rebel, and stirring up mutiny in thy realm, 
 and pretenders to thy throne." 
 
 "Ha!" said the Duke, and his lip quivered; 
 " this is not all." 
 
 " No, my liege ! and the worst is to come. Thy 
 uncle Manger, knowing that thy heart is bent on 
 thy speedy nuptials with the high and noble 
 damsel, Matilda of Flanders, has broken out 
 again in thine absence is preaching against 
 thee in hall and from pulpit. He declares that 
 such espousals are incestuous, both as within the 
 forbidden degrees, and inasmuch as Adele, the
 
 HAROLD. Ill 
 
 lady's mother, was betrothed to thine uncle 
 Richard ; and Mauger menaces excommunication 
 if my liege pursues his suit !* So troubled is the 
 realm, that I, waiting not for debate in Council, 
 and fearing sinister ambassage if I did so, took 
 ship from thy port of Cherburg, and have not 
 flagged rein, and scarce broken bread, till I could 
 say to the heir of Rolf the Founder Save thy 
 realm from the men of mail, and thy bride from 
 the knaves in serge." 
 
 " Ho, ho !" cried William ; then bursting forth 
 in full wrath, as he sprang from the couch. 
 " Hearest thou this, Lord Seneschal ? Seven 
 years, the probation of the patriarch, have I wooed 
 and waited ; and lo, in the seventh, does a proud 
 priest say to me, * Wrench the love from thy heart- 
 strings !' Excommunicate me ME William, the 
 
 * Most of the chroniclers merely state the parentage within 
 the forbidden degrees as the obstacle to William's marriage with 
 Matilda; but the betrothal or rather nuptials of her mother 
 Adele with Richard III. (though never consummated), appears 
 to have been the true canonical objection. See Note to WAGE, 
 vol. ii. p 60. Nevertheless, Matilda's mother Adele, stood in 
 the relation of aunt to William, as widow of his father's elder 
 brother, " an affinity," as is observed by a writer in the Archas- 
 ologia, "quite near enough to account for, if not to justify, the 
 interference of the Church." Arch. vol. xxxii. p. 109.
 
 112 HAROLD. 
 
 son of Robert the Devil ! Ha, by God's splen- 
 dour, Mauger sliall live to wish the father stood, 
 in the foul fiend's true likeness, by his side, rather 
 than brave the bent brow of the son ! " 
 
 "Dread my lord," said Fitzosborne, desisting 
 from his employ, and rising to his feet ; " thou 
 knowest that I am thy true friend and leal 
 knight ; thou knowest how I have aided thee in 
 this marriage with the lady of Flanders, and 
 how gravely I think that what pleases thy fancy 
 will guard thy realm ; but rather than brave the 
 order of the Church, and the ban of the Pope, 
 I would see thee wed to the poorest virgin in 
 Normandy." 
 
 William, who had been pacing the room, like 
 an enraged lion in his den, halted in amaze at this 
 bold speech. 
 
 " This from thee, William Fitzosborne ! from 
 thee ! I tell thee, that if all the priests in 
 Christendom, and all the barons in France, stood 
 between me and my bride, I would hew my way 
 through the midst. Foes invade my realm let 
 them ; princes conspire against me I smile in 
 scorn ; subjects mutiny this stroug hand can
 
 HAROLD. 113 
 
 punish, or this large heart can forgive. All these 
 are the dangers he who governs men should 
 prepare to meet ; but man has a right to his 
 love, as the stag to his hind. And he who 
 wrongs me here, is foe and traitor to me, not as 
 Norman Duke but as human being. Look to it 
 thou and thy proud barons, look to it ! " 
 
 " Proud may thy barons be," said Fitzosborne, 
 reddening, and with a brow that quailed not 
 before his lord's ; " for they are the sons of 
 those who carved out the realm of the Norman, 
 and owned in Rou but the feudal chief of free 
 warriors ; vassals are not villeins. And that which 
 we hold our duty whether to Church or chief 
 that, Duke William, thy proud barons will 
 doubtless do ; nor less, believe me, for threats 
 which, braved in discharge of duty and defence of 
 freedom, we hold as air." 
 
 The Duke gazed on his haughty subject with 
 an eye in which a meaner spirit might have seen 
 his doom. The veins in his broad temples swelled 
 like cords, and a light foam gathered round his 
 quivering lips. But fiery and .fearless as William 
 was, not less was he sagacious and profound.
 
 1 14 HAROLD. 
 
 In that one man he saw the representative of that 
 superb and matchless chivalry that race of races 
 those men of men, in whom the brave acknow- 
 ledge the highest 'example of valiant deeds, and 
 the free the manliest assertion of noble thoughts,* 
 since the day when the last Athenian covered 
 his head with his mantle, and mutely died ; and 
 far from being the most stubborn against his will, 
 it was to Fitzosborne's paramount influence with 
 the council, that he had often owed their sub- 
 mission to his wishes, and their contributions to 
 his wars. In the very tempest of his wrath, he 
 felt that the blow he longed to strike on that bold 
 
 * It might be easy to show, were this the place, that though 
 the Saxons never lost their love of liberty, yet that the victories 
 which gradually regained the liberty from the gripe of the 
 Anglo-Norman kings, were achieved by the Anglo-Norman 
 aristocracy. And even to this day, the few rare descendants 
 of that race, (whatever their political faction,) will generally 
 exhibit that impatience of despotic influence, and that dis- 
 dain of corruption, which characterize the homely bonders 
 of Norway, in whom we may still recognise the sturdy likeness 
 of their fathers ; while it is also remarkable that the modern 
 inhabitants of those portions of the kingdom originally peo- 
 pled by their kindred Danes, are, irrespective of mere party 
 divisions, noted for their intolerance of all oppression, and 
 their resolute independence of character; to wit, Yorkshire, 
 Norfolk, Cumberland, and large districts in the Scottish low- 
 lands.
 
 HAROLD. 115 
 
 head would shiver his ducal throne to the dust. 
 He felt too, that awful indeed was that power of 
 the Church, which could thus turn against him 
 the heart of his truest knight ; and he began (for 
 with all his outward frankness his temper was 
 suspicious,) to wrong the great- souled noble by 
 the thought that he might already be won over 
 by the enemies whom Mauger had arrayed 
 against his nuptials. Therefore, with one of 
 those rare and mighty efforts of that dissimula- 
 tion which debased his character, but achieved his 
 fortunes, he cleared his brow of its dark cloud, 
 and said in a low voice, that was not without its 
 pathos, 
 
 " Had an angel from heaven forewarned me 
 that William Fitzosborne would speak thus to his 
 kinsman and brother in arms, in the hour of need 
 and the agony of passion, I would have disbe- 
 lieved. Let it pass " 
 
 But ere the last word was out of his lips, Fitz- 
 osborne had fallen on his knees before the Duke, 
 and, clasping his hand, exclaimed, while the tears 
 rolled down his swarthy cheek, " Pardon, pardon, 
 my liege ! when thou speakest thus my heart
 
 116 HAROLD. 
 
 melts. What them wiliest, that will I ! Church 
 or Pope, no matter. Send me to Flanders ; I will 
 bring back thy bride." 
 
 The slight smile that curved William's lip, 
 showed that he was scarce worthy of that sublime 
 weakness in his friend. But he cordially pressed the 
 hand that grasped his own, and said, " Rise ; thus 
 should brother speak to brother." Then for his 
 wrath was only concealed, not stifled, and yearned 
 for its vent his eye fell upon the delicate and 
 thoughtful face of the priest, who had watched 
 this short and stormy conference in profound 
 silence, despite Taillefer's whispers to him to in- 
 terrupt the dispute. " So, priest," he said, " I re- 
 member me that when Mauger before let loose his 
 rebellious tongue thou didst lend thy pedant 
 learning to eke out his brainless treason. Me- 
 thought that I then banished thee my realm ? " 
 
 " Not so, Count and Seigneur," answered the 
 ecclesiastic, with a grave but arch smile on his 
 lip ; " let me remind thee, that to speed me back 
 to my native land thou didst graciously send me 
 a horse, halting on three legs, and all lame on 
 the fourth. Thus mounted, I met thee on my
 
 HAROLD. 117 
 
 road. I saluted thee ; so did the beast, for his 
 head well nigh touched the ground. Whereon 
 I did ask thee, in a Latin play of words, to give me 
 at least a quadruped, not a tripod, for my journey.* 
 Gracious, even in ire, and with relenting laugh, 
 was thine answer. My liege, thy words implied 
 banishment thy laughter, pardon. So I stayed." 
 
 Despite his wrath, William could scarcely re- 
 press a smile; but recollecting himself, he re- 
 plied, more gravely, "Peace with this levity, 
 priest. Doubtless, thou art the envoy from this 
 scrupulous Mauger, or some other of my gentle 
 clergy ; and thou comest, as doubtless, with soft 
 words, and whining homilies. It is in vain. I 
 hold the Church in holy reverence ; the pontiff 
 knows it. But Matilda of Flanders I have 
 wooed ; and Matilda of Flanders shall sit by my 
 side in the halls of Rouen, or on the deck of my 
 war-ship, till it anchors on a land worthy to yield 
 a new domain to the son of the Sea-king.' 1 
 
 " In the halls of Rouen and it may be on the 
 
 * Ex pervetusto codice, MS. Chron Bee. in Vit. Lanfranc. 
 quoted in the Archaeologia, vol. xxxii. p. 109. The joke, which 
 is very poor, seems to have turned upon pede and quadrupede ; 
 it is a little altered in the text.
 
 118 HAROLD. 
 
 throne of England shall Matilda reign by the 
 side of William," said the priest, in a clear, low, 
 and emphatic voice ; " and it was to tell my lord 
 the Duke that I repent me of my first unconsidered 
 obeisance to Mauger as my spiritual superior ; 
 that since then I have myself examined canon and 
 precedent ; and though the letter of the law be 
 against thy spousals, it comes precisely under the 
 category of those alliances to which the fathers of 
 the Church accord dispensation ; it is to tell thee 
 this, that I, plain Doctor of Laws and priest of 
 Pavia, have crossed the seas." 
 
 " Ha Rou ! Ha Rou ! " cried Taillefer, with 
 his usual bluffness, and laughing with great glee, 
 "why wouldst thou not listen to me, mon- 
 seigneur ? " 
 
 " If thou deceivest me not," said William, in 
 surprise, " and thou canst make good thy words, 
 no prelate in Neustria, save Odo of Bayeux, shall 
 lift his head high as thine." And here William, 
 deeply versed in the science of men, bent his eyes 
 keenly upon the unchanging and earnest face of 
 the speaker. " Ah," he burst out, as if satisfied 
 with the survey, " and my mind tells me that thou
 
 HAROLD. 119 
 
 speakest not thus boldly and calmly without ground 
 sufficient. Man, I like thee. Thy name? I 
 forget it." 
 
 " Lanfranc of Pavia, please you my lord ; 
 called sometimes * Lanfranc the Scholar' in thy 
 cloister of Bee. Nor misdeem me, that I, hum- 
 ble, unmitred priest, should be thus bold. In 
 birth I am noble, and my kindred stand near to 
 the grace of our ghostly pontiff; to the pontiff I 
 myself am not unknown. Did I desire honours, 
 in Italy I might seek them ; it is not so. I crave 
 no guerdon for the service I proffer ; none but 
 this leisure and books in the Convent of 
 Bee." 
 
 " Sit down nay, sit, man," said William, 
 greatly interested, but still suspicious. "One 
 riddle only I ask thee to solve, before I give thee 
 all my trust, and place my very heart in thy 
 hands. Why, if thou desirest not rewards, 
 shouldst thou thus care to serve me thou, a 
 foreigner ? " 
 
 A light, brilliant and calm, shone in the eyes 
 of the scholar, and a blush spread over his pale 
 cheeks.
 
 1 20 HAROLD. 
 
 " My Lord Prince, I will answer in plain 
 words. But first permit me to be the ques- 
 tioner." 
 
 The priest turned towards Fitzosborne, who 
 had seated himself on a stool at William's feet, 
 and, leaning his chin on his hand, listened to the 
 ecclesiastic, not more with devotion to his calling, 
 than wonder at the influence one so obscure was 
 irresistibly gaining over his own martial spirit, 
 and William's iron craft. 
 
 " Lovest thou not, William Lord of Breteul, 
 lovest thou not fame for the sake of fame ?" 
 
 " Sur mon ame yes !" said the Baron. 
 
 " And thou, Taillefer the minstrel, lovest thou 
 not song for the sake of song ?'' 
 
 " For song alone," replied the mighty minstrel. 
 " More gold in one ringing rhyme than in all the 
 coffers of Christendom." 
 
 " And marvellest thou, reader of men's hearts," 
 said the scholar, turning once more to William, 
 " that the student loves knowledge for the sake of 
 knowledge ? Born of high race, poor in purse, 
 and slight of thews, betimes I found wealth in 
 books, and drew strength from lore. I heard of
 
 HAROLD. 121 
 
 the Count of Rouen and the Normans, as a prince 
 of small domain, with a measureless spirit, a lover 
 of letters, and a captain in war. I came to thy 
 duchy, I noted its subjects and its prince, and the 
 words of Themistocles rang in my ear : ' I can- 
 not play the lute, but I can make a small state 
 great.' I felt an interest in thy strenuous and 
 troubled career. I believe that knowledge, to spread 
 amongst the nations, must first find a nursery in 
 the brain of kings ; and I saw in the deed-doer, 
 the agent of the thinker. In those espousals, on 
 which with untiring obstinacy thy heart is set, I 
 might sympathize with thee ; perchance" (here a 
 melancholy smile flitted over the student's pale 
 lips), " perchance even as a lover : priest though I 
 be now, and dead to human love, once I loved, 
 and I know what it is to strive in hope, and to 
 waste in despair. But my sympathy, I own, was 
 more given to the prince than to the lover. It 
 was natural that I, priest and foreigner, should 
 obey at first the orders of Mauger, archprelate 
 and spiritual chief, and the more so as the law 
 \vas with him ; but when I resolved to stay, 
 despite thy sentence which banished me, I re- 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 122 HAROLD. 
 
 solved to aid thee ; for if with Mauger was the 
 dead law, with thee was the living cause of man. 
 Duke William, on thy nuptials with Matilda of 
 Flanders rests thy duchy rest, perchance, the 
 mightier sceptres that are yet to come. Thy title 
 disputed, thy principality new and unestablished, 
 thou, above all men, must link thy new race with 
 the ancient line of kings and kaisars. Matilda is 
 the descendant of Charlemagne and Alfred. Thy 
 realm is insecure as long as France undermines it 
 with plots, and threatens it with arms. Marry the 
 daughter of Baldwin and thy wife is the niece of 
 Henry of France thine enemy becomes thy kins- 
 man, and must, perforce, be thine ally. This is 
 not all ; it were strange, looking round this dis- 
 ordered royalty of England a childless king, who 
 loves thee better than his own blood ; a divided 
 nobility, already adopting the fashions of the 
 stranger, and accustomed to shift their faith 
 from Saxon to Dane, and Dane to Saxon ; a 
 people that has respect indeed for brave chiefs, but, 
 seeing new men rise daily from new houses, has 
 no reverence for ancient lines and hereditary 
 names ; with a vast mass of villeins or slaves that
 
 HAROLD. 123 
 
 have no interest in the land or its rulers ; strange, 
 seeing all this, if thy day-dreams have not also 
 beheld a Norman sovereign on the throne of 
 Saxon England. And thy marriage with the 
 descendant of the best and most beloved prince 
 that ever ruled these realms, if it does not give 
 thee a title to the land, may help to conciliate its 
 affections, and to fix thy posterity in the halls of 
 their mother's kin. Have I said eno' to prove 
 why, for the sake of nations, it were wise for the 
 Pontiff to stretch the harsh girths of the law? 
 why I might be enabled to prove to the Court of 
 Rome the policy of conciliating the love, and 
 strengthening the hands, of the Norman Count, 
 who may so become the main prop of Christen- 
 dom ? Yea, have I said eno' to prove that the hum- 
 ble clerk can look on mundane matters with the 
 eye of a man who can make small states great ?" 
 
 William remained speechless his hot blood 
 thrilled with a half superstitious awe; so tho- 
 roughly had this obscure Lombard divined, de- 
 tailed all the intricate meshes of that policy with 
 which he himself had interwoven his pertinacious 
 affection for the Flemish princess, that it seemed 
 o 2
 
 124 HAROLD. 
 
 to him as if he listened to the echo of his own 
 heart, or heard from a soothsayer the voice of his 
 most secret thoughts. 
 
 The priest continued: 
 
 " Wherefore, thus considering, I said to myself, 
 Now has the time come, Lanfranc the Lombard, to 
 prove to thee whether thy self-boastings have been 
 a vain deceit, or whether, in this age of iron and 
 amidst this lust of gold, thou, the penniless and 
 the feeble, canst make knowledge and wit of 
 more avail to the destinies of kings than armed 
 men and filled treasuries. I believe in that power. 
 I am ready for the test. Pause, judge from what 
 the Lord of Breteul hath said to thee, what will 
 be the defection of thy lords if the Pope confirm 
 the threatened excommunication of thine uncle? 
 Thine armies will rot from thee ; thy treasures will 
 be like dry leaves in thy coffers ; the Duke of 
 Bretagne will claim thy duchy as the legitimate 
 heir of thy forefathers ; the Duke of Burgundy 
 will league with the King of France, and march 
 on thy faithless legions under the banner of the 
 Church. The handwriting is on the walls, and 
 thy sceptre and thy crown will pass away."
 
 HAROLD. 125 
 
 William set his teeth firmly, and breathed hard. 
 
 " But send me to Rome, thy delegate, and the 
 thunder of Mauger shall fall powerless. Marry 
 Matilda, bring her to thy halls, place her on thy 
 throne, laugh to scorn the interdict of thy traitor 
 uncle, and rest assured that the Pope shall send 
 thee his dispensation to thy spousals, and his 
 benison on thy marriage -bed. And when this be 
 done, Duke William, give me not abbacies and 
 prelacies ; multiply books, and stablish schools, 
 and bid thy servant found the royalty of know- 
 ledge, as thou shalt found the sovereignty of war." 
 
 The Duke, transported from himself, leaped up 
 and embraced the priest with his vast arms ; he 
 kissed his cheeks, he kissed his forehead, as, in 
 those days, king kissed king with " the kiss of 
 peace." 
 
 " Lanfranc of Pavia," he cried, " whether thou 
 succeed or fail, thou hast my love and gratitude 
 evermore. As thou speakest, would I have 
 spoken, had I been born, framed, and reared as 
 thou. And, verily, when I hear thee, I blush for 
 the boasts of my barbarous pride, that no man 
 can wield my mace, or bend my bow. Poor is the
 
 126 HAROLD. 
 
 strength of body a web of law can entangle it, 
 and a word from a priest's mouth can palsy. But 
 thou ! let me look at thee." 
 
 William gazed on the pale face ; from head to 
 foot he scanned the delicate, slender form, and 
 then turning away, he said to Fitzosborne, 
 
 " Thou, whose mailed hand hath fell'd a war- 
 steed, art thou not ashamed of thyself? The day 
 is coming, I see it afar, when these slight men 
 shall set their feet upon our corslets." 
 
 He paused as if in thought, again paced the 
 room, and stopped before the crucifix and image 
 of the Virgin, which stood in a niche near the bed 
 head. 
 
 " Right, noble prince," said the priest's low 
 voice. " Pause there for a solution to all enigmas ; 
 there, view the symbol of all-enduring power; 
 there, learn its ends below comprehend the 
 account it must yield above. To your thoughts 
 and your prayers we leave you." 
 
 He took the stalwart arm of Taillefer, as he 
 spoke, and, with a grave obeisance to Fitzosborne, 
 left the chamber.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE next morning William was long closeted 
 alone with Lanfranc, that man, among the most 
 remarkable of his age, of whom it was said, that 
 " to comprehend the extent of his talents, one must 
 be Herodian in grammar, Aristotle in dialectics, 
 Cicero in rhetoric, Augustine and Jerome in 
 Scriptural lore,"* and ere the noon Hs gallant 
 and princely train were ordered to be in readiness 
 for return home. 
 
 The crowd in the broad space, and the citizens 
 from their boats in the river, gazed on the knights 
 and steeds of that gorgeous company, already 
 drawn up and awaiting without the open gates the 
 sound of the trumpets that should announce the 
 
 * ORD. VITAL. See Note on Lanfranc, at the end of the 
 Volume.
 
 128 HAROLD. 
 
 Duke's departure. Before the hall-door in the inner 
 court were his own men. The snow-white steed 
 of Odo ; the alezan of Fitzosborne ; and, to the 
 marvel of all, a small palfrey plainly caparisoned. 
 What did that palfrey amid those steeds? the 
 steeds themselves seemed to chafe at the compa- 
 nionship ; the Duke's charger pricked up his ears 
 and snorted ; the Lord of Breteul's alezan kicked 
 out, as the poor nag humbly drew near to make 
 acquaintance ; and the prelate's white barb, with 
 red vicious eye, and ears laid down, ran fiercely 
 at the low-bred intruder, with difficulty reined in 
 by the squires, who shared the beast's amaze and 
 resentment. 
 
 Meanwhile the Duke thoughtfully took his 
 way to Edward's apartments. In the anteroom 
 were many monks and many knights ; but con- 
 spicuous amongst them all was a tall and stately 
 veteran, leaning on a great two-handed sword, 
 and whose dress and fashion of beard were those 
 of the last generation, the men who had fought 
 with Canute the Great or Edmund Ironsides. So 
 grand was the old man's aspect, and so did he con- 
 trast, in appearance, the narrow garb and shaven
 
 HAROLD. 129 
 
 chins of those around, that the Duke was roused 
 from his reverie at the sight, and marvelling why 
 one, evidently a chief of high rank, had neither 
 graced the banquet in his honour, nor been pre- 
 sented to his notice, he turned to the Earl of 
 Hereford, who approached him with gay saluta- 
 tion, and inquired the name and title of the 
 bearded man in the loose flowing robe. 
 
 " Know you not, in truth ?" said the lively Earl, 
 in some wonder. " In him you see the great 
 rival of Godwin. He is the hero of the Danes, 
 as Godwin is of the Saxons, a true son of Odin, 
 Siward Earl of the Northumbrians.* 
 
 " Notre Dame be my aid ! his fame hath oft 
 filled my ears, and I should have lost the most 
 
 * Siward was almost a giant (pene gigas statura). There are 
 some curious anecdotes of this hero, immortalized by Shakspere, 
 in the Bromton Chronicle. His grandfather is said to have 
 been a bear, who fell in love with a Danish lady ; and his father, 
 Beorn, retained some of the traces of the paternal physiognomy 
 in a pair of pointed ears. The origin of this fable seems evident. 
 His grandfather was a Berserker : for whether that name be 
 derived, as is more generally supposed, from bare-sark, or rather 
 from bear-sark, that is, whether this grisly specimen of the Viking 
 genus fought in his shirt or his bearskin, the name equally lends 
 itself to those mystifications from which half the old legends, 
 whether of Greece or Norway, are derived. 
 
 G 3
 
 130 HAROLD. 
 
 welcome sight in merrie England had I not now 
 beheld him." 
 
 Therewith, the Duke approached courteously, 
 and, doffing the cap he had hitherto retained, he 
 greeted the old hero with those compliments 
 which the Norman had already learned in the 
 courts of the Frank. 
 
 The stout Earl received them coldly, and replying 
 in Danish to William's Romance-tongue, he said, 
 
 " Pardon, Count of the Normans, if these old 
 lips cling to their old words. Both of us, methinks, 
 date our lineage from the lands of the Norse. 
 Suffer Siward to speak the language the sea-kings 
 spoke. The oak transplants not, and the old man 
 keeps the ground where his youth took root." 
 
 The Duke, who with some difficulty compre- 
 hended the general meaning of Siward's speech, 
 bit his lip, but replied courteously, 
 
 " The youths of all nations may learn from 
 renowned age. Much doth it shame me that I 
 cannot commune with thee in the ancestral tongue ; 
 but the angels at least know the language of the 
 Norman Christian, and I pray them and the saints 
 for a calm end to thy brave career."
 
 HARiOLD. 131 
 
 " Pray not to angel or saint for Siward son 
 of Beorn," said the old man hastily : " let me not 
 have a cow's death, but a warrior's ; die in my 
 mail of proof, axe in hand, and helm on head. 
 And such may be my death, if Edward the King 
 reads my rede and grants my prayer." 
 
 " I have influence with the King," said William ; 
 " name thy wish, that I may back it." 
 
 " The fiend forfend," said the grim Earl, 
 " that a foreign prince should sway England's 
 King, or that thegn and earl should ask other 
 backing than leal service and just cause. If 
 Edward be the saint men call him, he will loose 
 me on the hell-wolf, without other cry than his 
 own conscience." 
 
 The Duke turned inquiringly to Rolf; who 
 thus appealed to, said, 
 
 " Siward urges my uncle to espouse the cause 
 of Malcolm of Cumbria against the bloody tyrant 
 Macbeth; and but for the disputes with the 
 traitor Godwin, the King had long since turned 
 his arms to Scotland." 
 
 " Call not traitors, young man," said the Earl, 
 in high disdain, " those who, with all their faults
 
 1 32 HAROLD. 
 
 and crimes, have placed thy kinsman on the 
 throne of Canute." 
 
 " Hush, Rolf," said the Duke, observing the 
 fierce young Norman about to reply hastily. 
 " But methought, though my knowledge of 
 English troubles is but scant, that Siward was 
 the sworn foe to Godwin?" 
 
 " Foe to him in his power, friend to him in his 
 wrongs;*' answered Siward. "And if England 
 needs defenders when I and Godwin are in our 
 shrouds, there is but one man worthy of the days 
 of old, and his name is Harold, the outlaw." 
 
 William's face changed remarkably, despite all 
 his dissimulation ; and, with a slight inclination of 
 his head, he strode on, moody and irritated. 
 
 " This Harold ! this Harold I" he muttered to 
 himself, " all brave men speak to me of this 
 Harold! Even my Norman knights name him 
 with reluctant reverence, and even his foes do 
 him honour; verily his shadow is cast from 
 exile over all the land." 
 
 Thus murmuring, he passed the throng with 
 less than his wonted affable grace, and pushing 
 back the officers who wished to precede him,
 
 HAROLD. 133 
 
 entered, without ceremony, Edward's private 
 chamber. 
 
 The king was alone, but talking loudly to 
 himself, gesticulating vehemently, and altogether 
 so changed from his ordinary placid apathy of 
 mien, that William drew back in alarm and awe. 
 Often had he heard indirectly, that of late years 
 Edward was said to see visions, and be rapt from 
 himself into the world of spirit and shadow ; and 
 such, he now doubted not, was the strange 
 paroxysm of which he was made the witness. 
 Edward's eyes were fixed on him, but evidently 
 without recognising his presence; the King's 
 hands were outstretched, and he cried aloud in 
 a voice of sharp anguish, 
 
 " Sanguelac, Sanguelac ! the Lake of Blood ! 
 the waves spread, the waves redden ! Mother of 
 mercy where is the ark ? where the Ararat ? 
 Fly fly this way this " and he caught con- 
 vulsive hold of William's arm. " No ! there the 
 corpses are piled high and higher there the 
 horse of the Apocalypse tramples the dead in 
 their gore." 
 
 In great horror, William took the King, now
 
 134 HAROLD. 
 
 gasping on his breast, in his arms, and laid him 
 on his bed, beneath its canopy of state, all 
 blazoned with the martlets and cross of his 
 insignia. Slowly Edward came to himself, with 
 heavy sighs ; and when at length he sate up and 
 looked round, it was with evident unconsciousness 
 of what had passed across his haggard and wan- 
 dering spirit, for he said with his usual drowsy 
 calmness, 
 
 " Thanks, Guillaume, bien aime, for rousing me 
 from unseasoned sleep. How fares it with thee?" 
 
 " Nay, how with thee, dear friend and king ? 
 thy dreams have been troubled." 
 
 " Not so ; I slept so heavily, methinks I could 
 not have dreamed at all. But thou art clad as 
 for a journey spur on thy heel, staff in thy 
 hand?" 
 
 "Long since, O dear host, I sent Odo to tell 
 thee of the ill news from Normandy that com- 
 pelled me to depart." 
 
 "I remember I remember me now," said 
 Edward, passing his pale womanly fingers over 
 his forehead. " The heathen rage against thee. 
 Ah ! my poor brother, a crown is an awful head-
 
 HAROLD. 135 
 
 gear. While yet time, why not both seek some 
 quiet convent, and put away these earthly cares?" 
 
 William smiled and shook his head. " Nay, 
 holy Edward, from all I have seen of convents, 
 it is a dream to think that the monk's serge 
 hides a calmer breast than the warrior's mail, 
 or the king's ermine. Now give me thy benison, 
 for I go." 
 
 He knelt as he spoke, and Edward bent his 
 hands over his head, and blessed him. Then, 
 taking from his own neck a collar of zimmes, 
 (jewels and uncut gems) of great price, the King 
 threw it over the broad throat bent before him, 
 and rising, clapped his hands. A small door 
 opened, giving a glimpse of the oratory within, 
 and a monk appeared. 
 
 "Father, have my hests been fulfilled? hath 
 Hugoline, my treasurer, dispensed the gifts that 
 I spoke of?" 
 
 " Verily yes ; vault, coffer, and garde-robe 
 stall and meuse are well nigh drained," 
 answered the monk, with a sour look at the 
 Norman, whose native avarice gleamed in his 
 dark eyes as he heard the answer.
 
 136 HAROLD. 
 
 " Thy train go not hence empty-handed," 
 said Edward fondly. " Thy father's halls shel- 
 tered the exile, and the exile forgets not the sole 
 pleasure of a king the power to requite. We 
 may never meet again, William, age creeps 
 over me, and who will succeed to my thorny 
 throne?" 
 
 William longed to answer, to tell the hope 
 that consumed him, to remind his cousin of 
 the vague promise in their youth, that the 
 Norman Count should succeed to that 'thorny 
 throne;' but the presence of the Saxon monk 
 repelled him, nor was there in Edward's uneasy 
 look much to allure him on. 
 
 " But peace," continued the King, " be between 
 thine and mine, as between thee and me ! " 
 
 "Amen," said the Duke, "and I leave thee at 
 least free from the proud rebels who so long 
 disturbed thy reign. This House of Godwin, 
 thou wilt not again let it tower above thy 
 palace ? " 
 
 " Nay, the future is with God and his saints ; " 
 answered Edward feebly. "But Godwin is old 
 older than I, and bowed by many storms."
 
 HAROLD. 137 
 
 " Ay, his sons are more to be dreaded and 
 kept aloof mostly Harold ! " 
 
 " Harold, he was ever obedient, he alone of 
 his kith ; truly my soul mourns for Harold," said 
 the King, sighing. 
 
 " The serpent's egg hatches but the ser- 
 pent. Keep thy heel on it," said William, 
 
 sternly. 
 
 " Thou speakest well," said the irresolute prince, 
 who never seemed three days or three minutes 
 together in the same mind. "Harold is in Ire- 
 land there let him rest : better for all." 
 
 " For all," said the Duke ; " so the saints keep 
 thee, O royal saint ! " 
 
 He kissed the King's hand, and strode away to 
 the hall where Odo, Fitzosborne, and the priest 
 Lanfranc awaited him. And so that day, half-way 
 towards the fair town of Dover, rode Duke 
 William, and by the side of his roan barb ambled 
 the priest's palfrey. 
 
 Behind came his gallant train, with tumbrils 
 and sumpter-mules laden with baggage, and en- 
 riched by Edward's gifts; while Welch hawks, 
 and steeds of great price from the pastures of
 
 138 HAROLD. 
 
 Surrey and the plains of Cambridge and York, 
 attested no less acceptably than zimme, and 
 golden chain, and broidered robe, the munificence 
 of the grateful King.* 
 
 As they journeyed on, and the fame of the 
 Duke's coming was sent abroad by the bodes 
 or messengers, despatched to prepare the towns 
 through which he was to pass for an arrival 
 sooner than expected, the more highborn youths 
 of England, especially those of the party counter 
 to that of the banished Godwin, came round the 
 ways to gaze upon that famous chief, who, from 
 the age of fifteen, had wielded the most redoubt- 
 able sword of Christendom. And those youths 
 wore the Norman garb ; and in the towns, Norman 
 counts held his stirrup to dismount, and Norman 
 hosts spread the fastidious board; and when, at 
 the eve of the next day, William saw the pennon 
 of one of his own favourite chiefs waving in the van 
 of armed men, that sallied forth from the towers 
 of Dover (the key of the coast), he turned to the 
 Lombard, still by his side, and said : 
 
 " Is not England part of Normandy already ?" 
 * WAOE.
 
 HAROLD. 139 
 
 And the Lombard answered : 
 
 " The fruit is well nigh ripe, and the first 
 breeze will shake it to thy feet. Put not out thy 
 hand too soon. Let the wind do its work." 
 
 And the Duke made reply, 
 
 "As thou thinkest, so think I. And there is 
 but one wind in the halls of heaven that can waft 
 the fruit to the feet of another." 
 
 " And that ?" asked the Lombard. 
 
 " Is the wind that blows from the shores of Ire- 
 land, when it fills the sails of Harold, son of 
 Godwin." 
 
 " Thou fearest that man, and why ?" asked the 
 Lombard with interest. 
 
 And the Duke answered : 
 
 " Because in the breast of Harold beats the 
 heart of England."
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 THE HOUSE OF GODWIN.
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AND all went to the desire of Duke William 
 the Norman. With one hand he curbed his 
 proud vassals, and drove back his fierce foes. 
 With the other, he led to the altar Matilda, 
 the maid of Flanders ; and all happened as 
 Lanfranc had foretold. William's most formid- 
 able enemy, the King of France, ceased to 
 conspire against his new kinsman ; and the 
 neighbouring princes said, " The Bastard hath 
 become one of us since he placed by his 
 side the descendant of Charlemagne." And 
 Mauger, Archbishop of Rouen, excommunicated 
 the Duke and his bride, and the ban fell idle ; 
 for Lanfranc sent from Eome the Pope's dis-
 
 144 HAROLD. 
 
 pensation and blessing,* conditionally only that 
 bride and bridegroom founded each a church. 
 And Mauger was summoned before the synod, 
 and accused of unclerical crimes ; and they de- 
 posed him from his state, and took from him 
 abbacies and sees. And England, every day, 
 waxed more and more Norman ; and Edward 
 grew more feeble and infirm, and there seemed 
 not a barrier between the Norman Duke and the 
 English throne, when suddenly the wind blew in 
 the halls of heaven, and filled the sails of Harold 
 the Earl. 
 
 And his ships came to the mouth of the Severn. 
 And the people of Somerset and Devdn, a mixed 
 and mainly a Celtic race, who bore small love to 
 the Saxons, drew together against him, and he 
 put them to flight, f 
 
 Meanwhile, Godwin and* his sons Sweyn, Tostig, 
 and Gurth, who had taken refuge in that very 
 Flanders from which William the Duke had 
 won his bride, (for Tostig had wed, previously, 
 
 * See Note C. at the end of the volume, (foot-note on the date 
 of William's marriage). 
 f Anylo-Saxon Chronicle.,
 
 HAROLD. 
 
 the sister of Matilda, the rose of Flanders; and 
 Count Baldwin had, for his sons-in-law, both 
 Tostig and "William,) meanwhile, I say, these, 
 not holpen by the Count Baldwin, but helping 
 themselves, lay at Bruges, ready to join Harold 
 the Earl. And Edward, avised of this from 
 the anxious Norman, caused forty ships* to be 
 equipped, and put them under command of Rolf, 
 Earl of Hereford. The ships lay at Sandwich in 
 wait for Godwin. But the old Earl got from 
 them, and landed quietly on the southern coast. 
 And the fort of Hastings opened to his coming 
 with a shout from its armed men. 
 
 All the boatmen, all the mariners, far and 
 near, thronged to him, with sail and with shield, 
 with sword and with oar. All Kent, (the foster- 
 mother of the Saxons,) sent forth the cry, " Life 
 or death with Earl Godwin."f Fast over the 
 length and breadth of the land, went the bodes J 
 and riders of the Earl ; and hosts, with one voice, 
 answered the cry of the children of Horsa, " Life 
 or death with Earl Godwin." And the ships of 
 
 * Some writers say fifty. f HOVEXDEN. 
 
 I Bodes, i.e. Messengers. 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 HAROLD. 
 
 King Edward, in dismay, turned flag and prow 
 to London, and the fleet of Harold sailed on. So 
 the old Earl met his young son on the deck of a 
 warship, that had once borne the Raven of the 
 Dane. 
 
 Swelled and gathering sailed the armament of 
 the English men. Slow up the Thames it sailed, 
 and on either shore marched tumultuous the 
 swarming multitudes. And King Edward sent 
 after more help, but it came up very late. So 
 the fleet of the Earl nearly faced the Juillet Keape 
 of London, and abode at Southwark till the flood- 
 tide came up. When he had mustered his host, 
 then came the flood-tide.* 
 
 * A nylo Saxon Chronicle.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 KING EDWARD sate, not on his throne, but on a 
 chair of state, in the presence chamber of his 
 palace of Westminster. His diadem, with the 
 three zimmes shaped into a triple trefoil* on 
 his brow, his sceptre in his right hand. His 
 royal robe, tight to the throat, with a broad 
 band of gold, flowed to his feet ; and at the 
 fold gathered round the left knee, where now the 
 kings of England wear the badge of St. George, 
 was embroidered a simple cross, t In that chamber 
 met the thegns and proceres of his realm ; but not 
 they alone. No national Witan there assembled, 
 but a council of war, composed at least one third 
 part of Normans counts, knights, prelates, and 
 abbots of high degree. 
 
 And King Edward looked a king! The 
 
 * Or Fleur-de-lis, which seems to have been a common, form of 
 ornament with the Saxon kings. 
 f Bayeux Tapestry. 
 
 H2
 
 148 HAROLD. 
 
 habitual lethargic meekness had vanished from 
 his face, and the large crown threw a shadow, 
 like a frown, over his brow. His spirit seemed 
 to have risen from the weight it took from 
 the sluggish blood of his father, Ethelred the 
 Unready, and to have remounted to the brighter 
 and earlier source of ancestral heroes. Worthy 
 in that hour he seemed to boast the blood and 
 wield the sceptre of Athelstan and Alfred.* 
 
 Thus spoke the King. 
 
 " Right worthy and beloved, my ealdermen, 
 earls, and thegns of England ; noble and familiar, 
 my friends and guests, counts and chevaliers of 
 Normandy, my mother's land; and you, our spiritual 
 chiefs, above all ties of birth and country, Christen- 
 dom your common appanage, and from Heaven your 
 seignories and fiefs, hear the words of Edward, 
 the King of England, under grace of the Most 
 High. The rebels are in our river ; open yonder 
 lattice, and you will see the piled shields glitter- 
 ing from their barks, and hear the hum of their 
 hosts. Not a bow has yet been drawn, not a 
 sword left its sheath ; yet on the opposite side of 
 * See Note (D) at the end of the volume.
 
 HAROLD. 149 
 
 the river are our fleets of forty sail along tlie 
 strand, between our palace and the gates of Lon- 
 don, are arrayed our armies. And this pause 
 because Godwin the traitor hath demanded truce, 
 and his nuncius waits without. Are ye willing 
 that we should hear the message ? or would ye 
 rather that we dismiss the messenger unheard, 
 and pass at once, to rank and to sail, the war- 
 cry of a Christian king, ' Holy Crosse and our 
 Lady!'" 
 
 The King ceased, his left hand grasping firm 
 the leopard head carved on his throne, and his 
 sceptre untrembling in his lifted hand. 
 
 A murmur of Notre Dame, Notre Dame, the 
 war-cry of the Normans, was heard amongst 
 the stranger-knights of the audience; but haughty 
 and arrogant as those strangers were, no one pre- 
 sumed to take precedence, in England's danger, 
 of men English born. 
 
 Slowly then rose Aired, Bishop of Winchester, 
 the worthiest prelate in all the land.* 
 
 * The York Chronicle, written by an Englishman, Stubhs, 
 gives this eminent person an excellent character as peacemaker. 
 " He could make the warmest Mends of foes the most hostile."
 
 150 HAROLD. 
 
 " Kingly son," said the bishop, "evil is the strife 
 between men of the same blood and lineage, nor 
 justified but by extremes, which have not yet 
 been made clear to us. And ill would it sound 
 throughout England were it said that the King's 
 council gave, perchance, his city of London 
 to sword and fire, and rent his land in twain, 
 when a word in season might have disbanded yon 
 armies, and given to your throne a submissive 
 subject, where now you are menaced by a formid- 
 able rebel. Wherefore, I say, admit the nuncius." 
 
 Scarcely had Aired resumed his seat, before 
 Robert the Norman prelate of Canterbury started 
 up, a man, it was said, of worldly learning 
 .and exclaimed, 
 
 ft To admit the messenger is to approve the 
 treason. I do beseech the King to consult only 
 his own royal heart and royal honour. Reflect 
 each moment of delay swells the rebel hosts, 
 strengthens their cause ; of each moment they avail 
 vthfimselves, to allure to their side the misguided 
 
 a De inimicissimis, amiciasimos faceret." This gentle priest 
 had yet the courage to curse the Norman Conqueror in the midst 
 of his barons. That scene is not within the range of this work, 
 but it is very strikingly told in the Chronicle.
 
 HAROLD. 151 
 
 citizens. Delay but proves our own weakness ; a 
 king's name is a tower of strength, but only when 
 fortified by a king's authority. Give the signal 
 for tvar I call it not no for chastisement and 
 justice." 
 
 " As speaks my brother of Canterbury, speak 
 J," said William, Bishop of London, another 
 Norman. 
 
 But then there rose up a form at whose rising 
 all murmurs were hushed. 
 
 Grey and vast, as some image of a gone and 
 mightier age, towered over all Siward, the son of 
 Beorn, the great Earl of Northumbria. 
 
 " We have nought to do with the Normans. 
 Were they on the river, and our countrymen, 
 Dane or Saxon, alone in this hall, small doubt of 
 the King's choice, and niddering were the man 
 who spoke of peace; but when Norman advises 
 the dwellers of England to go forth and slay each 
 other, no sword of mine shall be drawn at his 
 hest. Who shall say that Siward of the Strong 
 Arm, the grandson of the Berserker, ever turned 
 from a foe ? The foe, son of Ethelred, sits in 
 these halls ; I fight thy battles when I say Nay
 
 152 HAROLD. 
 
 to the Norman ! Brothers-in-arms of the kindred 
 race and common tongue, Dane and Saxon long 
 intermingled, proud alike of Canute the glorious 
 and Alfred the wise, ye will hear the man whom 
 Godwin, our countryman, sends to us ; he at least 
 will speak our tongue, and he knows our laws. If 
 the demand he delivers be just, such as a King 
 should grant, and our Witan should hear, woe 
 to him who refuses ; if unjust be the demand, 
 shame to him who accedes. Warrior sends to 
 warrior, countryman to countryman ; hear we 
 as countrymen, and judge as warriors. I have 
 said." 
 
 The utmost excitement and agitation followed 
 the speech of Siward, unanimous applause from 
 the Saxons, even those who in times of peace 
 were most under the Norman contagion ; but no 
 words can paint the wrath and scorn of the 
 Normans. They spoke loud and many at a time ; 
 the greatest disorder prevailed. But the majority 
 being English, there could be doubt as to the 
 decision, and Edward, to whom the emergence 
 gave both a dignity and presence of mind rare 
 to him, resolved to terminate the dispute at once.
 
 HAROLD, 153 
 
 lie stretched forth his sceptre, and motioning to 
 his chamberlain, bade him introduce the nuncius.* 
 
 A blank disappointment, not unmixed with 
 apprehensive terror, succeeded the turbulent ex- 
 citement of the Normans ; for well they kneAV 
 that the consequence, if not condition, of negoti- 
 ations, would be their own downfall and banish- 
 ment at the least ; happy, it might be, to escape 
 massacre at the hands of the exasperated mul- 
 titude. 
 
 The door at the end of the room opened, and 
 the nuncius appeared. He was a sturdy, broad- 
 shouldered man, of middle age, and in the long 
 loose garb originally national with the Saxon, 
 though then little in vogue ; his beard thick and 
 fair, his eyes grey and calm a chief of Kent, 
 where all the prejudices of his race were strong- 
 est, and whose yeomanry claimed in war the 
 hereditary right to be placed in the front of 
 battle. 
 
 He made his manly but deferential salutation 
 
 * Heralds, though probably the word is Saxon, -were not then 
 known in the modern acceptation of the word. The name of 
 the messenger or envoy who fulfilled that office was bode or 
 nuncius. See Note (E) at the end of the volume. 
 
 H 3
 
 154 HAROLD. 
 
 to the august council as he approached; and 
 pausing midway between the throne and door, he 
 fell on his knees without thought of shame, for 
 the King to whom he knelt was the descendant of 
 Woden, and the heir of Hengist. At a sign and 
 a brief word from the King, still on his knee?. 
 Vebba, the Kentman, spoke. 
 
 " To Edward, son of Ethelred, his most gra- 
 cious king and lord, Godwin, son of "Wolnoth, 
 sends faithful and humble greeting, by Vebba, 
 the thegn-born. He prays the King to hear 
 him in kindness, and judge of him with mercy. 
 Not against the King comes he hither with ships 
 and arms; but against those only who would 
 stand between the King's heart and the subject's : 
 those Avho have divided a house against itself, 
 find parted son and father, man and wife. " 
 
 At those last words Edward's sceptre trembled 
 in his hand, and his face grew almost stern. 
 
 "Of the King, Godwin but prays with all 
 submiss and earnest prayer, to reverse the un- 
 righteous outlawry against him and his; to 
 restore to him and his sons their just possessions 
 and Avell-won honours ; and, more than all, to
 
 HAROLD. 155 
 
 replace them where they have sought by loving 
 service not unworthily to stand, in the grace of 
 their born lord, and in the van of those who would 
 iiphold the laws and liberties of England. This 
 done the ships sail back to their haven; the 
 thegn seeks his homestead, and the ceorl returns 
 to the plough ; for with Godwin are no strangers ; 
 and his force is but the love of his countrymen." 
 
 " Hast thou said ? " quoth the King. 
 
 " I have said." 
 
 " Retire, and await our answer." 
 
 The Thegn of Kent was then led back 
 into an ante-room, in which, armed from head 
 to heel in ring-mail, were several Normans 
 whose youth or station did not admit them into 
 the council, but still of no mean interest in the 
 discussion, from the lands and possessions they 
 had already contrived to gripe out of the de- 
 mesnes of the exiles; burning for battle and 
 eager for the word. Amongst these was Mallet 
 de Graville. 
 
 The Norman valour of this young knight was, 
 as we have seen, guided by Norman intelligence ; 
 and he had not disdained, since "William's de-
 
 156 HAROLD. 
 
 parture, to study the tongue of the country in 
 which he hoped to exchange his mortgaged tower 
 on the Seine, for some fair barony on the 
 Humbcr or the Thames. 
 
 While the rest of his proud countrymen stood 
 aloof, with eyes of silent scorn, from the homely 
 nuncius, Mallet approached him with courteous 
 bearing, and said in Saxon 
 
 " May I crave to know the issue of thy mes- 
 sage from the reb that is, from the doughty 
 Earl?" 
 
 " I wait to learn it," said Vebba, bluffly. 
 
 " They heard thee throughout, then ?" 
 
 " Throughout." 
 
 " Friendly Sir," said the Sire de Graville, seek- 
 ing to subdue the tone of irony habitual to him, 
 and acquired, perhaps, from his maternal ancestry, 
 the Franks. "Friendly and peace -making Sir, 
 dare I so far venture to intrude on the secrets 
 of thy mission as to ask if Godwin demands, 
 among other reasonable items, the head of thy 
 humble servant not by name indeed, for my 
 name is as yet unknown to him but as one of 
 the unhappy class called Normans ? "
 
 HAROLD. 157 
 
 "Had Earl Godwin," returned the nuncius, 
 "thought fit to treat for peace by asking ven- 
 geance, he would have chosen another spokesman. 
 The Earl asks but his own ; and thy head is 
 not, I trow, a part of his goods and chattels." 
 
 "That is comforting," said Mallet. "Marry, 
 I thank thee, Sir Saxon ; and thou speakest like 
 a brave man and an honest. And if we fall to 
 blows, as I suspect we shall, I should deem it a 
 favour of oar Lady the Virgin if she send thce 
 across my Avay. Next to a fair friend, I love a 
 bold foe." 
 
 Vebba smiled, for he liked the sentiment, and 
 the tone and air of the young knight pleased his 
 rough mind, despite his prejudices against the 
 stranger. 
 
 Encouraged by the smile, Mallet seated himself 
 on the corner of the long table that skirted the 
 room, and with a debonnair gesture invited Vebba 
 to do the same ; then looking at him gravely he 
 resumed 
 
 " So frank and courteous thou art, Sir Envoy, 
 that I yet intrude on thee my ignorant and 
 curious questions."
 
 158 HAROLD. 
 
 " Speak out, Norman." 
 
 " How comes it, then, that you English so 
 love this Earl Godwin ? Still more, why think 
 you it right and proper that King Edward should 
 love him too? It is a question I have often 
 asked, and to which I am not likely in these halls 
 to get answer satisfactory. If I know aught of 
 your troublous history, this same Earl has 
 changed sides oft eno' ; first for the Saxon, 
 then for Canute the Dane Canute dies, and 
 your friend takes up arms for the Saxon again. 
 He yields to the advice of your Witan and sides 
 with Hardicanute and Harold, the Danes a 
 letter, natheless, is written as from Emma, the 
 mother to the young Saxon princes, Edward and 
 Alfred, inviting them over to England, and 
 promising aid ; the saints protect Edward, who. 
 continues to say ates in Normandy Alfrecf 
 comes over, Earl Godwin meets him, and, unless 
 belied, does him homage, and swears to him faith. 
 Nay, listen yet. This Godwin, whom ye love so, 
 then leads Alfred and his train into the ville of 
 Guildford, I think ye call it, fair quarters enow. 
 At the dead of the night rush in King Harold's men,
 
 HAROLD. 159 
 
 seize prince and follower, six hundred men in all; 
 and next morning, saving only every tenth man, 
 they are tortured and put to death. The prince 
 is borne off to London, and shortly afterwards 
 his eyes are torn out in the Islet of Ely, and he 
 dies of the anguish! That ye should love Earl 
 Godwin withal may be strange, but yet possible. 
 But is it possible, clier Envoy, for the King to 
 love the man who thus betrayed his brother to 
 the shambles?" 
 
 " All this is a Norman fable," said the Thegn of 
 Kent, with a disturbed visage ; " and Godwin 
 cleared himself on oath of all share in the foul 
 murder of Alfred." 
 
 " The oath, I have heard, was backed," said the 
 knight drily, " by a present to Hardicanute, who 
 after the death of King Harold resolved to 
 avenge the black butchery ; a present, I say, of 
 a gilt ship manned by fourscore warriors with gold 
 hilted swords, and gilt helms. But let this pass." 
 
 " Let it pass," echoed Vebba with a sigh. 
 " Bloody were those times, and unholy their 
 secrets." 
 
 " Yet answer me still, why love you Earl
 
 1 60 HAROLD. 
 
 Godwin? He hath changed sides from party to 
 party, and in each change won lordships and 
 lands. He is ambitious and grasping, ye all 
 allow ; for the ballads sung in your streets liken 
 him to the thorn and the bramble; at which the 
 sheep leaves his wool. He is haughty and over- 
 bearing. Teli me, O Saxon, frank Saxon, why 
 you love Godwin the Earl ! Fain would I know ; 
 for, please the saints (and you and your Earl so 
 permitting), I mean to live and die in this merric 
 England ; and it would be pleasant to learn that 
 I have but to do as Earl Godwin, in order to win 
 love from the English." 
 
 The stout Yebba looked perplexed; but after 
 stroking his beard thoughtfully, he answered 
 thus 
 
 " Though of Kent, and therefore in his earldom, 
 I am not one of Godwin's especial party ; for that 
 reason was I chosen his bode. Those who are 
 under him doubtless love a chief liberal to give 
 and strong to protect. The old age of a great 
 leader gathers reverence, as an oak gathers moss. 
 But to me, and those like me, living peaceful at 
 home, shunning courts, and tempting not broils,
 
 HAROLD. 161 
 
 Godwin the man is not dear it is Godwin the 
 thing" 
 
 " Though I do my best to know your language," 
 said the knight, "ye have phrases that might 
 puzzle King Solomon. What meanest thou by 
 'Godwin the thing?'" 
 
 " That which to us Godwin only seems to 
 uphold. "We love justice ; whatever his offences, 
 Godwin was banished unjustly. We love our 
 laws ; Godwin was dishonoured by maintaining 
 them. We love England, and are devoured by 
 strangers ; Godwin's cause is England's, and 
 stranger, forgive me for not concluding." 
 
 Then examining the young Norman with a 
 look of rough compassion, he laid his large hand 
 upon the knight's shoulder and whispered, 
 
 " Take my advice and fly." 
 
 "Fly!" said De Graville, reddening. "Is it 
 to fly, think you, that I have put on my mail, 
 and girded my sword ? " 
 
 l< Vain vain ! Wasps are fierce, but the 
 swarm is doomed when the straw is kindled. 
 I tell you this fly in time, and you are safe ; 
 but let the King be so misguided as to count
 
 162 HAROLD. 
 
 on arms, and strire against yon multitude, and 
 verily before nightfall not one Norman will be 
 found alive within ten miles of the city. Look 
 to it, youth! Perhaps thou hast a mother let 
 her not mourn a son !" 
 
 Before the Norman could shape into Saxon 
 sufficiently polite and courtly his profound and 
 indignant disdain of the counsel, his sense of the 
 impertinence with which his shoulder had been 
 profaned, and his mother's son had been warned, 
 the nuncius was again summoned into the pre- 
 sence-chamber. Nor did he return into the ante- 
 room, but conducted forthwith from the council 
 his brief answer received to the stairs of the 
 palace, he reached the boat in which he had come, 
 and was rowed back to the ship that held the 
 Earl and his sons. 
 
 Now this was the manoeuvre of Godwin's array. 
 His vessels having passed London Bridge, had 
 rested awhile on the banks of the Southward 
 suburb (Suth-weorde) since called Southwark 
 and the King's ships lay to the north; but the 
 fleet of the Earl's, after a brief halt, veered majes- 
 tically round, and coming close to the palace of
 
 HAROLD. 163 
 
 Westminster, inclined northward, as if to hem 
 the King's ships. Meanwhile the land forces 
 drew up close to the Strand, almost within bow- 
 shot of the King's troops, that kept the ground 
 inland ; thus Vebba saw before him, so near as 
 scarcely to be distinguished from each other, on 
 the river the rival fleets, on the shore the rival 
 armaments. 
 
 High above all the vessels towered the majestic 
 bark, or assca, that had borne Harold from the 
 Irish shores. Its fashion was that of the ancient 
 sea-kings, to one of whom it had belonged. Its 
 curved and mighty prow, richly gilded, stood out 
 far above the waves : the prow, the head of the 
 sea-snake ; the stern its spire ; head and spire 
 alike glittering in the sun. 
 
 The boat drew up to the lofty side of the vessel, 
 a ladder was lowered, the nuncius ascended 
 lightly and stood on deck. At the farther end 
 grouped the sailors, few in number, and at re- 
 spectful distance from the Earl and his sons. 
 
 Godwin himself was but half armed. His head 
 was bare, nor had he other weapon of offence 
 than the gilt battle-axe of the Danes weapon
 
 164 HAROLD. 
 
 as much of office as of war ; but his broad breast 
 was covered with the ring mail of the time. His 
 stature was lower than that of any of his sons; 
 nor did his form exhibit greater physical strength 
 than that of a man, well shaped, robust, and deep 
 of chest, who still preserved in age the pith and 
 einew of mature manhood. Neither, indeed, did 
 legend or fame ascribe to that eminent personage 
 those romantic achievements, those feats of 
 purely animal prowess, which distinguished his 
 rival Siward. Brave he was, but brave as a 
 leader; those faculties in which he appears to 
 have excelled all his contemporaries, were more 
 analogous to the requisites of success in civilized 
 times, than those which won renown of old. And 
 perhaps England was the only country then in 
 Europe which could have given to those faculties 
 their fitting career. He possessed essentially the 
 arts of party ; he knew how to deal with vast 
 masses of mankind; he could carry along with 
 his interests the fervid heart of the multitude ; 
 he had in the highest degree that gift, useless in 
 most other lands in all lands where popular assem- 
 blies do not exist the gift of popular eloquence.
 
 HAROLD. 165 
 
 Ages elapsed, after the Norman conquest, ere 
 eloquence again became a power in England.* 
 
 But like all men renowned for eloquence, lie 
 went with the popular feeling of his times ; he 
 embodied its passions, its prejudices but also 
 that keen sense of self-interest, which is the 
 invariable characteristic of a multitude. He was 
 the sense of the commonalty carried to its highest 
 degree. Whatever the faults, it may be the 
 crimes, of a career singularly prosperous and 
 splendid, amidst events the darkest and most 
 terrible, shining with a steady light across the 
 thunder-clouds, he was never accused of cruelty 
 or outrage to the mass of the people. English, 
 emphatically, the English deemed him ; and this 
 not the less that in his youth he had sided with 
 Canute, and owed his fortunes to that king ; for 
 so intermixed were Danes and Saxons in England, 
 that the agreement which had given to Canute 
 one half the kingdom had been received with 
 general applause ; and the earlier severities of 
 that great prince had been so redeemed in his" 
 
 * When the chronicler praises the gift of speech, he uncon- 
 sciously proves the existence of constitutional freedom.
 
 166 HAROLD. 
 
 later years by wisdom and mildness so, even in the 
 worst period of his reign, relieved by extraordinary 
 personal affability, and so lost now in men's memo- 
 ries by pride in his power and fame, that Canute 
 had left behind him a beloved and honoured 
 name,* and Godwin was the more esteemed as 
 the chosen counsellor of that popular prince. At 
 his death, Godwin was known to have wished, and 
 even armed, for the restoration of the Saxon line ; 
 and only yielded to the determination of the 
 Witan, no doubt acted upon by the popular 
 opinion. Of one dark crime he was suspected, 
 and, despite his oath to the contrary, and the 
 formal acquittal of the national council, doubt of 
 his guilt rested then, as it rests still, upon his 
 name; viz. the perfidious surrender of Alfred, 
 Edward's murdered brother. 
 
 But time had passed over the dismal tragedy ; 
 and there was an instinctive and prophetic feeling 
 
 * Recent Danish historians have in vain endeavoured to de- 
 tract from the reputation of Canute as an English monarch. The 
 Danes are, doubtless, the best authorities for his character in 
 Denmark. But our own English authorities are sufficiently de- 
 cisive as to the personal popularity of Canute in this country, 
 and the affection entertained for his laws.
 
 HAROLD. 167 
 
 throughout the English nation, that with the House 
 of Godwin was identified the cause of the English 
 people. Everything in this man's aspect served 
 to plead in his favour. His ample brows were 
 calm with benignity and thought ; his large dark 
 blue eyes were serene and mild, though their 
 expression, when examined, was close and in- 
 scrutable. His mien was singularly noble, but 
 wholly without formality or affected state; and 
 though haughtiness and arrogance were largely 
 attributed to him, they could be found only in his 
 deeds, not manner plain, familiar, kindly to all 
 men, his heart seemed as open to the service of 
 his countrymen as his hospitable door to their 
 wants. 
 
 Behind him stood the stateliest group of sons 
 that ever filled with pride a father's eye. Each 
 strikingly distinguished from the other, all re- 
 markable for beauty of countenance and strength 
 of frame. 
 
 Sweyn, the eldest,"* had the dark hues of his 
 
 * Some of our historians erroneously represent Harold as the 
 eldest son. But Florence, the best authority we have, in the 
 silence of the Saxon Chronicle, as well as Knyghton, dis- 
 tinctly states Sweyn to be the eldest ; Harold was the second,
 
 168 IIAROLD. 
 
 mother the Dane : a wild and mournful majesty 
 sat upon features aquiline and regular, but wasted 
 by grief or passion ; raven locks, glossy even in 
 neglect, fell half over eyes hollow in their sockets, 
 but bright, though with troubled fire. Over his 
 shoulder he bore his mighty axe. His form spare, 
 but of immense power, was sheathed in mail, and 
 he leant on his great pointed Danish shield. At 
 his feet sate his young son Haco, a boy with a 
 countenance preternaturally thoughtful for Jus 
 years, which were yet those of childhood. 
 
 Next to him stood the most dreaded and ruthless 
 of the sons of Godwin he, fated to become to 
 the Saxon what Julian was to the Goth. With 
 his arms folded on his breast stood Tostig; his 
 face was beautiful as a Greek's, in all save the 
 forehead, which was low and lowering. Sleek 
 and trim were his bright chestnut locks ; and his 
 
 and Tostig was the third. Sweyn's seniority seems corrobo- 
 rated by the greater importance of his earldom. The Norman 
 chroniclers, in their spite to Harold, wish to make him junior to 
 Tostig for the reasons evident at the close of this work. And the 
 Norwegian chronicler, Snorro Sturleson, says that Harold was the 
 youngest of all the sons ; so little was really known, or cared to 
 be accurately known, of that great house which so nearly founded 
 a new dynasty of English kings.
 
 HAROLD. 169 
 
 arms were damascened with silver, for he was 
 one who loved the pomp and luxury of war. 
 
 \Yolnoth, the mother's favourite, seemed yet in 
 the first flower of youth, but he alone of all the 
 sons had something irresolute and effeminate in 
 his aspect and bearing; his form, though tall, 
 seemed not yet to have come to its full height 
 and strength ; and, as if the weight of mail were 
 unusual to him, he leant with both hands upon 
 the wood of his long spear. Leofwine, who stood 
 next to "Wolnoth, contrasted him notably ; his 
 sunny locks wreathed carelessly over a white 
 unclouded brow, and the silken hair on the upper 
 lip quivered over arch lips, smiling, even in that 
 serious hour. 
 
 At Godwin's right hand, but not immediately 
 near him, stood the last of the group, Gurth 
 and Harold. Gurth had passed his arm over the 
 shoulder of his brother, and not watching the 
 nuncius while he spoke, watched only the effect 
 his words produced on the face of Harold. For 
 Gurth loved Harold as Jonathan loved David. 
 And Harold was the only one of the group 
 not armed, and had a veteran skilled in war been 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 HAROLD. 
 
 asked, who of that group was born to lead 
 armed men, he would have pointed to the man 
 unarmed. 
 
 " So what says the King?" asked Earl Godwin. 
 
 " This ; he refuses to restore thee and thy sons, 
 or to hear thee, till thou hast disbanded thine 
 army, dismissed thy ships, and consented to clear 
 thyself and thy house before the Witana-gernot." 
 
 A fierce laugh broke from Tostig ; Sweyn's 
 mournful brow grew darker ; Leofwine placed his 
 right hand on his ateghar ; Wolnoth rose erect ; 
 Gurth kept his eyes on Harold, and Harold's face 
 was unmoved. 
 
 "The King received thee in his council of 
 war," said Godwin, thoughtfully, " and doubtless 
 the Normans were there. Who were the English- 
 men most of mark ?" 
 
 " SJward of Northumbria, thy foe." 
 
 "My sons," said the Earl, turning to his 
 children, and breathing loud as if a load were 
 off his heart ; " there will be no need of axe 
 or armour to-day. Harold alone was wise," 
 and he pointed to the linen tunic of the son thus 
 cited.
 
 HAROLD. 171 
 
 "What mean you, Sir Father?" said Tostig 
 imperiously. " Think you to " 
 
 "Peace, son, peace;" said Godwin, without 
 asperity, but with conscious command. " Return, 
 brave and dear friend," he said to Vebba, "find 
 out Siward the Earl ; tell him that I, Godwin, 
 his foe in the old time, place honour and life in 
 his hands, and what he counsels that will we 
 do. Go." 
 
 The Kent man nodded, and regained his boat. 
 Then spoke Harold. 
 
 " Father, yonder are the forces of Edward ; as 
 yet without leaders, since the chiefs must be still 
 in the halls of the King. Some fiery Norman 
 amongst them may provoke an encounter; and 
 this city of London is not won, as it behoves us to 
 win it, if one drop of English blood dye the sword 
 of one English man. Wherefore, with your leave, 
 I will take boat, and land. And unless I have 
 lost in my absence all right lere in the hearts 
 of our countrymen, at the first shout from our 
 troops which proclaims that Harold, son of Godwin, 
 is on the soil of our fathers, half yon array of 
 spears and helms pass at once to our side." 
 i 2
 
 172 HAROLD. 
 
 " And if not, my vain brother ? " said Tostig, 
 gnawing his lip with envy. 
 
 " And if not, I will ride alone into the midst of 
 them, and ask what Englishmen are there who 
 will aim shaft or spear at this breast, never 
 mailed against England ! " 
 
 Godwin placed his hand on Harold's head, and 
 the tears came to those close cold eyes. 
 
 " Thou knowest by nature what I have learned 
 by art. Go, and prosper. Be it as thou wilt." 
 
 "He takes thy post, Sweyn thou art the 
 elder," said Tostig, to the wild form by his side. 
 
 " There is guilt on my soul, and woe in my 
 heart," answered Sweyn, moodily. " Shall Esau 
 lose his birthright, and Cain retain it ? " So say- 
 ing, he withdrew, and, reclining against the stern 
 of the vessel, leant his face upon the edge of his 
 shield. 
 
 Harold watched him with deep compassion in 
 his eyes, passed to his side with a quick step, 
 pressed his hand, and whispered, " Peace to the 
 past, O my brother ! " 
 
 The boy Haco, who had noiselessly followed his 
 father, lifted his sombre, serious looks to Harold
 
 HAROLD. 173 
 
 as tie thus spoke ; and when Harold turned 
 away, he said to Sweyn, timidly, " He, at least, is 
 ever good to thee and to me." 
 
 " And thou, when I am no more, shalt cling to 
 him as thy father, Haco," answered Sweyn, 
 tenderly smoothing back the child's dark locks. 
 
 The boy shivered; and, bending his head, 
 murmured to himself, " When thou art no more ! 
 No more! Has the Vala doomed Mm, too? 
 Father and son, both ? " 
 
 Meanwhile, Harold had entered the boat 
 lowered from the sides of the cesca to receive 
 him ; and Gurth, looking appealingly to his father, 
 and seeing no sign of dissent, sprang down after 
 the young Earl, and seated himself by his side. 
 
 Godwin followed the boat with musing eyes. 
 
 "Small need," said he, aloud, but to himself, 
 " to believe in soothsayers, or to credit Hilda the 
 saga, when she prophesied, ere we left our shores, 
 
 that Harold " He stopped short, for Tostig's 
 
 wrathful exclamation broke on his reverie. 
 
 " Father, father ! My blood surges in my 
 ears, and boils in my heart, when I hear thee 
 name the prophecies of Hilda in favour of thy
 
 174 HAROLD. 
 
 darling. Dissension and strife in our house have 
 they wrought already ; and if the feuds between 
 Harold and me have sown grey in thy locks, 
 thank thyself when, flushed with vain sooth- 
 sayings for thy favoured Harold, thou saidst, 
 in the hour of our first childish broil, ' Strive 
 not with Harold; for his brothers will be his 
 men.' " 
 
 " Falsify the prediction," said Godwin, calmly ; 
 " wise men may always make their own future, 
 and seize their own fates. Prudence, patience, 
 labour, valour; these are the stars that rule 
 the career of mortals." 
 
 Tostig made no answer ; for the splash of oars 
 was near, and two ships, containing the principal 
 chiefs that had joined Godwin's cause, came along 
 side the Runic sesca to hear the result of the mes- 
 sage sent to the King. Tostig sprang to the 
 vessel's side, and exclaimed, " The King, girt by 
 his false counsellors, will hear us not, and arms 
 must decide between us." 
 
 " Hold, hold ! malignant, unhappy boy !" cried 
 Godwin, between his grinded teeth, as a shout 
 of indignant, yet joyous ferocity, broke from
 
 HAROLD. 175 
 
 the crowded ships thus hailed. " The curse of all 
 time be on him who draws the first native blood 
 in sight of the altars and hearths of London ! 
 Hear me, thou with the vulture's blood-lust, and 
 the peacock's vain joy in the gaudy plume ! Hear 
 me, Tostig, and tremble. If but by one word 
 thou widen the breach between me and the king, 
 outlaw thou enterest England, outlaw shalt thou 
 depart for earldom and broad lands, choose the 
 bread of the stranger, and the weregeld of the 
 wolf!" 
 
 The young Saxon, haughty as he was, quailed 
 at his father's thrilling voice, bowed his head, 
 and retreated sullenly. Godwin sprang on the 
 deck of the nearest vessel, and all the passions 
 that Tostig had aroused, he exerted his eloquence 
 to appease. 
 
 In the midst of his arguments, there rose from 
 the ranks on the strand, the shout of " Harold ! 
 Harold the Earl ! Harold and Holy Crosse !" 
 And Godwin, turning his eye to the King's 
 ranks, saw them agitated, swayed, and moving ; 
 till suddenly from the very heart of the hostile 
 array, came, as by irresistible impulse, the cry
 
 176 HAROLD. 
 
 " Harold, our Harold ! All hail, the good 
 Earl!" 
 
 While this chanced without, within the palace, 
 Edward had quitted the presence chamber, and 
 was closeted with Stigand, the bishop. This 
 prelate had the more influence with Edward, inas- 
 much as though Saxon, he was held to be no enemy 
 to the Normans, and had, indeed, on a former 
 occasion, been deposed from his bishopric on the 
 charge of too great an attachment to the Norman 
 Queen-mother Emma.* Never in his whole life 
 had Edward been so stubborn as on this occasion. 
 For here, more than his realm was concerned ; he 
 was threatened in the peace of his household, and 
 the comfort of his tepid friendships. With the 
 recall of his powerful father-in-law, he foresaw 
 the necessary reintrusion of his wife upon the 
 charm of his chaste solitude. His favourite Nor- 
 mans would be banished, he should be surrounded 
 
 * Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, A.D. 1043. "Stigand was deposed 
 from his bishopric, and all that he possessed was seized into the 
 King's hands, because he was received to his mother's counsel, and 
 she went just as he advised her, as people thought." The saintly 
 Confessor dealt with his bishops as summarily as Henry VIII. 
 could have done, after his quarrel with the Pope.
 
 HAROLD. 177 
 
 with faces he abhorred. All the representations 
 of Stigand fell upon a stern and unyielding spirit, 
 when Siward entered the King's closet. 
 
 " Sir, my King," said the great son of Beorn, 
 " I yielded to your kingly will in the council, that, 
 before we listened to Godwin, he should disband 
 his men, and submit to the judgment of the 
 Witan. The Earl hath sent to me to say, that he 
 will put honour and life in my keeping, and abide 
 by my counsel. And I have answered as became 
 the man who will never snare a foe, or betray 
 a trust." 
 
 " How hast thou answered ?" asked the King. 
 
 " That he abide by the laws of England, as 
 Dane and Saxon agreed to abide in the days of 
 Canute ; that he and his sons shall make no 
 claim for land or lordship, but submit all to the 
 Witan." 
 
 " Good," said the King ; " and the Witan will 
 condemn him now, as it would have condemned 
 when he shunned to meet it ?" 
 
 " And the Witan now" returned the Earl em- 
 phatically, " will be free, and fair, and just." 
 
 " And meanwhile, the troops " 
 
 i3
 
 178 HAROLD. 
 
 " Will wait on either side ; and if reason fail, 
 then the sword," said Siward. 
 
 " This I will not hear/' exclaimed Edward ; 
 when the tramp of many feet thundered along the 
 passage; the door was flung open, and several 
 captains (Norman as well as Saxon) of the 
 King's troops rushed in, wild, rude, and tumul- 
 tuous. 
 
 " The troops desert ! half the ranks have thrown 
 down their arms at the very name of Harold !" 
 exclaimed the Earl of Hereford. " Curses on the 
 knaves !" 
 
 " And the lithsmen of London," cried a Saxon 
 thegn, "are all on his side, and marching already 
 through the gates." 
 
 " Pause yet," whispered Stigand ; " and who 
 shall say, this hour to-morrow, if Edward or 
 Godwin reign on the throne of Alfred ?" 
 
 His stern heart moved by the distress of his 
 King, and not the less for the unwonted firmness 
 which Edward displayed, Siward here approached, 
 knelt, and took the King's hand. 
 
 " Siward can give no niddering counsel to his 
 King ; to save the blood of his subjects is never a
 
 HAROLD. 179 
 
 King's disgrace. Yield thou to mercy Godwin 
 to the law !" 
 
 " Oh for the cowl and cell !" exclaimed the 
 Prince, wringing his hands. " Oh Norman home, 
 why did I leave thee !" 
 
 He took the cross from his breast, contemplated 
 it fixedly, prayed silently but with fervour, and 
 his face again became tranquil. 
 
 " Go," he said, flinging himself on his seat in 
 the exhaustion that follows passion, " go, Siward, 
 go Stigand, deal with things mundane as ye will." 
 
 The Bishop, satisfied with this reluctant acqui- 
 escence, seized Siward by the arm and withdrew 
 him from the closet. The captains remained a 
 few moments behind, the Saxons silently gazing 
 on the King, the Normans whispering each other, 
 in great doubt and trouble, and darting looks of 
 the bitterest scorn at their feeble benefactor. 
 Then, as with one accord, these last rushed along 
 the corridor, gained the hall where their country- 
 men yet assembled, and exclaimed, " A toute bride ! 
 Franc 6trier ! All is lost but life ! God for the 
 first man, knife and cord for the last !" 
 
 Then, as the cry of fire, or as the first crash of
 
 180 HAROLD. 
 
 an earthquake, dissolves all union, and reduces all 
 emotion into one thought of self-saving, the whole 
 conclave, crowding pell mell on each other, 
 bustled, jostled, clamoured to the door happy he 
 who could find horse palfrey, even monk's mule ! 
 This way, that way, fled those lordly Normans, 
 those martial abbots, those mitred bishops some 
 singly, some in pairs ; some by tens, and some by 
 scores ; but all prudently shunning association 
 with those chiefs whom they had most courted the 
 day before, and who, they now knew, would be 
 the main mark for revenge ; save only two, who 
 yet, from that awe of the spiritual power which 
 characterized the Norman, who was already half 
 monk, half soldier (Crusader and Templar before 
 Crusades were yet preached, or the Templars yet 
 dreamed of) } even in that hour of selfish panic 
 rallied round them the prowest chivalry of 
 their countrymen, viz., the Bishop of London 
 and the Archbishop of Canterbury. Both these 
 dignitaries, armed cap-a-pi6 } and spear in hand, 
 headed the flight; and good service that day, 
 both as guide and champion, did Mallet de 
 Graville. He led them in a circuit behind both
 
 HAROLD. 181 
 
 armies, but being intercepted by a new body, 
 coming from the pastures of Hertfordshire to 
 the help of Godwin, he was compelled to take 
 the bold and desperate resort of entering the 
 city gates. These were wide open ; whether to 
 admit the Saxon Earls, or vomit forth their allies, 
 the Londoners. Through these, up the narrow 
 streets, riding three a-breast, dashed the slaughter- 
 ing fugitives ; worthy in flight of their national re- 
 nown, they trampled down every obstacle. Bodies 
 of men drew up against them at every angle, 
 with the Saxon cry of " Out ! Out !" " Down 
 with the outland men !" Through each, spear 
 pierced, and sword clove, the way. Red with gore 
 was the spear of the prelate of London ; broken 
 to the hilt was the sword militant in the terrible 
 hand of the Archbishop of Canterbury. So on 
 they rode, so on they slaughtered gained the 
 Eastern Gate, and passed with but two of their 
 number lost. 
 
 The fields once gained, for better precaution 
 they separated. Some few, not quite ignorant 
 of the Saxon tongue, doffed their mail, and 
 crept through forest and fell towards the sea
 
 182 HAROLD. 
 
 shore ; others retained steed and arms, but 
 shunned equally the high roads. The two pre- 
 lates were among the last; they gained, in 
 safety, Ness, in Essex, threw themselves into 
 an open, crazy, fishing-boat, committed them- 
 selves to the waves, and, half drowned and half 
 famished, drifted over the Channel to the French 
 shores. Of the rest of the courtly foreigners, 
 some took refuge in the forts yet held by their 
 countrymen ; some lay concealed in creeks and 
 caves till they could find or steal boats for their 
 passage. And thus, in the year of our Lord 
 1052, occurred the notable dispersion and igno- 
 minious flight of the counts and vavasours of 
 great William the Duke !
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE Witana-gemot was assembled in the Great 
 Hall of Westminster in all its imperial pomp. 
 
 It was on his throne that the King sate now 
 and it was the sword that was in his right hand. 
 Some seated below, and some standing beside, 
 the throne, were the officers of the Basileus* 
 of Britain. There, were to be seen camararius 
 and pincerna, chamberlain and cupbearer; disc 
 thegn and hors thegn; f the thegn of the dishes, and 
 the thegn of the stud ; with many more, whose 
 state offices may not impossibly have been bor- 
 rowed from the ceremonial pomp of the Byzan- 
 tine court ; for Edgar, King of England, had in 
 
 * The title of Basileus -was retained by our kings so late as 
 the time of John, who styled himself " Totius Insulse Britan- 
 nicre Basileus." AGARD; On the Antiquity of Shires in England, 
 ap Hearne, Cur. Disc. 
 
 f SHARON TURNER.
 
 184 HAROLD. 
 
 the old time styled himself the Heir of Constan- 
 tine. Next to these sat the clerks of the chapel, 
 with the King's confessor at their head. Officers 
 were they of higher note than their name be- 
 speaks, and wielders, in the trust of the Great 
 Seal, of a power unknown of old, and now ob- 
 noxious to the Saxon. For tedious is the suit 
 which lingers for the king's writ and the king's 
 seal ; and from those clerks shall arise hereafter 
 a thing of torture and of might, which shall 
 grind out the hearts of men, and be called 
 CHANCERY 1* 
 
 Below the scribes, a space was left on the floor, 
 and farther down sat the chiefs of the Witan. Of 
 these, first in order, both from their spiritual rank 
 and their vast temporal possessions, sat the lords of 
 the Church ; the chairs of the prelates of London 
 and Canterbury were void. But still goodly was 
 the array of Saxon mitres, with the harsh, hungry, 
 
 * See the Introduction to PALGRAVE'S History of the Anglo- 
 Saxons, from which this description of the Witan is borrowed so 
 largely, that I am left without other apology for the plagiarism, 
 than the frank confession, that if I could have found in others, 
 or conceived from my own resources, a description half as gra- 
 phic and half as accurate, I would only have plagiarized to half 
 the extent I have done.
 
 HAROLD. 185 
 
 but intelligent face of Stigand, Stigand the 
 stout and the covetous ; and the benign but firm 
 features of Aired, true priest and true patriot, 
 distinguished amidst all. Around each prelate, as 
 stars round a sun, were his own special priestly 
 retainers, selected from his diocese. Farther still 
 down the hall are the great civil lords and vice- 
 king vassals of the e Lord Paramount.' Vacant 
 the chair of the King of the Scots, for Siward 
 hath not yet had his wish; Macbeth is in his 
 fastnesses, or listening to the weird sisters in the 
 wold ; and Malcolm is a fugitive in the halls of the 
 Northumbrian earl. Vacant the chair of the 
 hero Gryffyth, son of Llewelyn, the dread of the 
 marches, Prince of Gwyned, whose arms had sub- 
 jugated all Cymry. But there, are the lesser 
 sub-kings of Wales, true to the immemorial 
 schisms amongst themselves, which destroyed the 
 realm of Ambrosius, and rendered vain the arm 
 of Arthur. With their torques of gold, and wild 
 eyes, and hair cut round ears and brow,* they 
 stare on the scene. 
 
 On the same bench with these sub-kings, dis- 
 * GIKALD. CAMBRENSIS.
 
 186 HAROLD. 
 
 tinguished from them by height of stature, and 
 calm collectedness of mien, no less than by their 
 caps of maintenance and furred robes, are those 
 props of strong thrones and terrors of weak the 
 earls to whom shires and counties fall, as hyde 
 and carricate to the lesser thegns. But three of 
 these were then present, and all three the foes of 
 Godwin. Siward, Earl of Northumbria ; Leofric 
 of Mercia, (that Leofric whose wife Godiva yet 
 lives in ballad and song) ; and Rolf, Earl of 
 Hereford and Worcestershire, who, strong in his 
 claim of " king's blood," left not the court with 
 his Norman friends. And on the same benches, 
 though a little apart, are the lesser earls, and that 
 higher order of thegns, called king's thegns. 
 
 Not far from these sate the chosen citizens 
 from the free burgh of London, already of great 
 weight in the senate,* sufficing often to turn 
 its counsels ; all friends were they of the English 
 Earl and his house. In the same division of the 
 
 * Palgrave omits, I presume accidentally, these members of 
 the Witan, but it is clear from the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle that 
 the London " lithsmen" were represented in the great National 
 Witans, and had helped to decide the election even of kings.
 
 HAROLD. 187 
 
 hall were found the bulk and true popular part 
 of the meeting popular indeed as representing 
 not the people, but the things the people most 
 prized valour and wealth ; the thegn land- 
 owners, called in the old deeds the " Ministers :" 
 they sate with swords by their side, all of varying 
 birth, fortune, and connexion whether with king, 
 earl, or ceorl. For in the different districts of 
 the old Heptarchy, the qualification varied ; high 
 in East Anglia, low in Wessex ; so that what 
 was wealth in the one shire was poverty in the 
 other. There sate, half a yeoman, the Saxon 
 thegn of Berkshire or Dorset, proud of his five 
 hydes of land; there, half an earldoman, the Danish 
 thegn of Norfolk or Ely, discontented with his 
 forty ; some were there in right of smaller offices 
 under the crown ; some traders, and sons of traders, 
 for having crossed the high seas three times at 
 their own risk; some could boast the blood of 
 Offa and Egbert ; and some traced but three 
 generations back to neat-herd and ploughman; 
 and some were Saxons and some were Danes ; 
 and some from the western shires were by origin 
 Britons, though little cognizant of their race.
 
 188 HAROLD. 
 
 Farther down still, at the extreme end of the 
 hall, crowding by the open doors, filling up the 
 space without, were the ceorls themselves, a vast 
 and not powerless body; in these high courts 
 (distinct from the shire gemots, or local senates) 
 never called upon to vote or to speak or to act, 
 or even to sign names to the doom, but only to 
 shout " Yea, yea," when the proceres pronounced 
 their sentence. Yet not powerless were they, 
 but rather to the Witan, what public opinion is to 
 the Witan's successor, our modern parliament: 
 they were opinion ! And according to their 
 numbers and their sentiments, easily known and 
 boldly murmured, often and often must that 
 august court of basileus and prelate, vassal-king 
 and mighty earl, have shaped the council and 
 adjudged the doom. 
 
 And the forms of the meeting had been duly 
 said and done ; and the King had spoken words, 
 no doubt wary and peaceful, gracious and exhor- 
 tatory ; but those words for his voice that day 
 was weak travelled not beyond the small circle 
 of his clerks and his officers ; and a murmur 
 buzzed through the hall, when Earl Godwin stood
 
 HAROLD. 189 
 
 on the floor \vith his six sons at his back ; and 
 you might have heard the hum of the gnat that 
 vexed the smooth cheek of Earl Rolf, or the click 
 of the spider from the web on the vaulted roof, 
 the moment before Earl Godwin spoke. 
 
 " If," said he, with the modest look and down- 
 cast eye of practised eloquence, " If I rejoice 
 once more to breathe the air of England, in whose 
 service, often perhaps with faulty deeds, but at 
 all times with honest thoughts, I have, both in 
 war and council, devoted so much of my life that 
 little now remains but, (should you, my king, 
 and you, prelates, proceres, and ministers so vouch- 
 safe,) to look round and select that spot of my native 
 soil which shall receive my bones; if I rejoice 
 to stand once more in that assembly which has 
 often listened to my voice when our common 
 country was in peril, who here will blame that 
 joy ? Who among my foes, if foes now I have, 
 will not respect the old man's gladness? Who 
 amongst you, earls and thegns, would not grieve, 
 if his duty bade him say to the grey-haired exile, 
 ' In this English air you shall not breathe your 
 last sigh on this English soil you shall not find
 
 190 HAROLD* 
 
 a grave!' Who amongst you would not grieve 
 to say it?" (Suddenly he drew up his head and 
 faced his audience.) "Who amongst you hath 
 the courage and the heart to say it ? Yes, I 
 rejoice that I am at last in an assembly fit to 
 judge my cause, and pronounce my innocence. 
 For what offence was I outlawed ? For what 
 offence were I, and the six sons I have given to 
 my land, to bear the wolf's penalty, and be chased 
 and slain as the wild beasts? Hear me, and 
 answer I 
 
 " Eustace, Count of Boulogne, returning to his 
 domains from a visit to our lord the King, entered 
 the town of Dover in mail and on his war steed ; 
 his train did the same. Unknowing our laws and 
 customs (for I desire to press light upon all old 
 grievances, and will impute ill designs to none,) 
 these foreigners invade by force the private dwell- 
 ings of citizens, and there select their quarters. 
 Ye all know that this was the strongest violation 
 of Saxon right ; ye know that the meanest ceorl 
 hath the proverb on his lip, * Every man's house 
 is his castle.' One of the townsmen acting on 
 that belief, which I have yet to learn was a false
 
 HAROLD. 191 
 
 one, expelled from his threshold a retainer of 
 the French Earl's. The stranger drew his sword 
 and wounded him ; blows followed the stranger 
 fell by the arm he had provoked. The news 
 arrives to Earl Eustace; he and his kinsmen 
 spur to the spot ; they murder the Englishman 
 on his hearth-stone. " 
 
 Here a groan, half-stifled and wrathful, broke 
 from the ceorls at the end of the hall. Godwin 
 held up his hand in rebuke of the interruption, 
 and resumed. 
 
 " This deed done, the outlanders rode through 
 the streets with their drawn swords ; they 
 butchered those who came in their way; they 
 trampled even children under their horses' feet. 
 The burghers armed. I thank the Divine Father, 
 who gave me for my countrymen those gallant 
 burghers ! They fought, as we English know 
 how to fight ; they slew some nineteen or score 
 of these mailed intruders ; they chased them from 
 the town. Earl Eustace fled fast. Earl Eustace 
 we know is a wise man : small rest took he, 
 little bread broke he, till he pulled rein at the 
 gate of Gloucester, where my lord the King then
 
 192 HAROLD. 
 
 held court. He made his complaint. My lord 
 the King, naturally hearing but one side, thought 
 the burghers in the wrong ; and, scandalized that 
 such high persons of his own kith should be so 
 aggrieved, he sent for me, in whose government 
 the burgh of Dover is, and bade me chastise, by 
 military execution, those who had attacked the 
 foreign Count. I appeal to the great Earls whom 
 I see before me to you, illustrious Leofric ; to 
 you, renowned SiAvard what value would ye set 
 on your earldoms, if ye had not the heart and the 
 power to see right done to the dwellers therein ? 
 
 " What was the course I proposed ? Instead 
 of martial execution, which would involve the 
 whole burgh in one sentence, I submitted that 
 the reeve and gerefas? of the burgh should be 
 cited to appear before the King, and account 
 for the broil. My lord, though ever most 
 clement and loving to his good people, either 
 unhappily moved against me, or overswayed by 
 the foreigners, was counselled to reject this mode 
 of doing justice, which our laws, as settled under 
 Edgar and Canute, enjoin. And because I would 
 not, and I say in the presence of all, because I,
 
 HAROLD. 193 
 
 Godwin son of Wolnoth, durst not, if I would, 
 have entered the free burgh of Dover with mail 
 on my back and the doomsman at my right hand, 
 these outlanders induced my lord the King to 
 summon me to attend in person (as for a sin of 
 my own,) the council of the Witan, convened at 
 Gloucester, then filled with the foreigners, not, 
 as I humbly opined, to do justice to me and my 
 folk of Dover, but to secure to this Count of 
 Boulogne a triumph over English liberties, and 
 sanction his scorn for the value of English lives. 
 
 " I hesitated, and was menaced with outlawry ; 
 I armed in self-defence, and in defence of the 
 laws of England ; I armed, that men might not 
 be murdered on their hearth-stones, nor children 
 trampled under the hoofs of a stranger's war- 
 steed. My lord the King gathered his troops 
 round * the cross and the martlets.' Yon 
 noble earls, Siward and Leofric, came to that 
 standard, as (knowing not then my cause,) was 
 their duty to the Basileus of Britain. But 
 when they knew my cause, and saw with me 
 the dwellers of the land, against me the outland 
 aliens, they righteously interposed. An armistice 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 HAROLD. 
 
 was concluded ; I agreed to refer all matters to a 
 Witan held where it is held this day. My troops 
 were disbanded; but the foreigners induced my 
 lord not only to retain his own, but to issue his 
 Herr-bann for the gathering of hosts far and near, 
 even allies beyond the seas. When I looked 
 to London for the peaceful Witan, what saw I ? 
 The largest armament that had been collected in 
 this reign that armament headed by Norman 
 knights. Was this the meeting where justice 
 could be done mine and me ? Nevertheless, what 
 was my offer ? That I and my six sons would 
 attend, provided the usual sureties, agreeable to 
 our laws, from which only thieves* are excluded, 
 were given that we should come and go life-free 
 and safe. Twice this offer was made, twice 
 refused; and so I and my sons were banished. 
 We went ; we have returned ! " 
 
 "And in arms," murmured Earl Rolf, son-in- 
 law to that Count Eustace of Boulogne, whose 
 violence had been temperately and tru'y narrated, f 
 
 * By Athelstan's law, every man was to have peace going to 
 and from the Witan, unless he was a thief. WILKINS, p. 137. 
 
 f Goda, Edward's sister, married first Eolf 's father, Count of 
 Mantes ; secondly, the Count of Boulogne.
 
 HAROLD. 195 
 
 " And in arms," repeated Godwin : " true ; in 
 arms against the foreigners who had thus poisoned 
 the ear of our gracious King; in arms, Earl Rolf; 
 and at the first clash of those arms, Franks and 
 foreigners have fled. We have no need of arms 
 now. We are amongst our countrymen, and no 
 Frenchman interposes between us and the ever 
 gentle, ever generous nature of our born King. 
 
 " Peers and proceres, chiefs of this Witan, 
 perhaps the largest ever yet assembled in man's 
 memory, it is for you to decide whether I and 
 mine, or the foreign fugitives, caused the dissen- 
 sion in these realms; whether our banishment 
 was just or not ; whether in our return w r e have 
 abused the power we possessed. Ministers, on 
 those swords by your sides there is not one drop 
 of blood ! At all events, in submitting to you our 
 fate, we submit to our own laws and our own 
 race. I am here to clear myself, on my oath, of 
 deed and thought of treason. There are amongst 
 my peers as king's thegns, those who will 
 attest the same on my behalf, and prove the facts 
 I have stated, if they are not sufficiently noto- 
 rious. As for my sons, no crime can be alleged 
 K 2
 
 196 HAROLD. 
 
 ao-ainst them, unless it be a crime to have in 
 
 O p 
 
 their veins that blood which flows in mine 
 blood which they have learned from me to shed 
 in defence of that beloved land to which they 
 now ask to be recalled." 
 
 The Earl ceased and receded behind his chil- 
 dren, having artfully, by his very abstinence from 
 the more heated eloquence imputed to him often 
 as a fault and a wile, produced a powerful effect 
 upon an audience already prepared for his ac- 
 quittal. 
 
 But now as from the sons, Sweyn the eldest 
 stepped forth, with a wandering eye and uncer- 
 tain foot, there was a movement like a shudder 
 amongst the large majority of the audience, and a 
 murmur of hate or of horror. 
 
 The young Earl marked the sensation his pre- 
 sence produced, and stopped short. His breath 
 came thick; he raised his right hand, but spoke 
 not. His voice died on his lips; his eyes roved 
 wildly round with a haggard stare more im- 
 ploring than defying. Then rose, in his episcopal 
 stole, Aired the bishop, and his clear sweet voice 
 trembled as he spoke.
 
 HAROLD. 197 
 
 " Comes Sweyn, son of Godwin here, to prove 
 his innocence of treason against the King ? if so, 
 let him hold his peace ; for if the Witan acquit 
 Godwin son of Wolnoth of that charge, the 
 acquittal includes his House. But in the name of 
 the holy Church here represented by its fathers, 
 will Sweyn say, and fasten his word by oath, 
 that he is guiltless of treason to the King of Kings 
 guiltless of sacrilege that my lips shrink to 
 name? Alas, that the duty falls on me, for I 
 loved thee once, and love thy kindred now. But 
 I am God's servant before all things" the prelate 
 paused, and gathering up new energy, added in 
 unfaltering accents, " I charge thee here, Sweyn 
 the outlaw, that, moved by the fiend, thou didst 
 bear off from God's house and violate a daughter of 
 the Church Algive, Abbess of Leominster !" 
 
 " And I," cried Siward, rising to the full 
 height of his stature, " I, in the presence of these 
 proceres, whose proudest title is milites or war- 
 riors I charge Sweyn, son of Godwin, that, not 
 in open field and hand to hand, but by felony and 
 guile, he wrought the foul and abhorrent murder 
 of his cousin, Beorn the Earl !"
 
 198 HAROLD. 
 
 At these two charges from men so eminent, the 
 effect upon the audience was startling. While 
 those not influenced by Godwin raised their eyes, 
 sparkling with wrath and scorn, upon the wasted, yet 
 still noble face of the eldest born, even those most 
 zealous on behalf of that popular House evinced 
 no sympathy for its heir. Some looked down 
 abashed and mournful some regarded the accused 
 with a cold unpitying look. Only perhaps among 
 the ceorls, at the end of the hall, might be seen 
 some compassion on anxious faces ; for before 
 those deeds of crime had been bruited abroad, 
 none among the sons of Godwin more blithe of 
 mien and bold of hand, more honoured and 
 beloved, than Sweyn the outlaw. But the hush 
 that succeeded the charges was appalling in its 
 depth. Godwin himself shaded his face with his 
 mantle, and only those close by could see that 
 his breast heaved and his limbs trembled. The 
 brothers had shrunk from the side of the accused, 
 outlawed even amongst his kin all save Harold, 
 who, strong in his blameless name and beloved 
 repute, advanced three strides amidst the silence, 
 and, standing by his brother's side, lifted his com-
 
 HAROLD 199 
 
 
 
 manding brow above the seated judges, but lie 
 did not speak. 
 
 Then said Svveyn the Earl, strengthened by 
 such solitary companionship in that hostile assem- 
 blage, "I might answer that for these charges 
 in the past, for deeds alleged as done eight long 
 years ago, I have the King's grace, and the in- 
 law's right ; and that in the Witans over which I 
 as earl presided, no man was twice judged for the 
 same offence. That I hold to be the law, in the 
 great councils as the small." 
 
 " It is ! it is !" exclaimed Godwin; -his paternal 
 feelings conquering his prudence and his decorous 
 dignity. " Hold to it, my son !" 
 
 " I hold to it not," resumed the young earl, 
 casting a haughty glance over the somewhat 
 blank and disappointed faces of his foes, " for my 
 law is kere n a,nA he smote his heart " and that 
 condemns me not once alone, but evermore ! 
 Aired, O holy father, at whose knees I once 
 confessed my every sin, I blame thee not that 
 thou first, in the Witan, liftest thy voice against 
 me, though thou knowest that I loved Algive 
 from youth upward; she, with her heart yet
 
 200 HAROLD. 
 
 
 
 mine, was given in the last year of Hardicanute, 
 when might was right, to the Church. I met her 
 again, flushed with my victories over the Wal- 
 loon kings, with power in my hand and passion 
 in my veins. Deadly was my sin! But what 
 asked I ? that vows compelled should be annulled ; 
 that the love of my youth might yet be the wife 
 of my manhood. Pardon, that I knew not then 
 how eternal are the bonds ye of the Church have 
 woven round those of whom, if ye fail of saints, 
 ye may at least make martyrs!" 
 
 He paused, and his lip curled, and his eye shot 
 wild-fire; for in that moment his mother's blood 
 was high within him, and he looked and thought, 
 perhaps, as some heathen Dane, but the flash 
 of the former man was momentary, and humbly 
 smiting his breast, he murmured, " A vaunt, 
 Satan ! yea, deadly was my sin ! And the sin 
 was mine alone ; Algive, if stained, was blame- 
 less ; she escaped and and died ! 
 
 " The King was wroth ; and first to strive 
 against my pardon was Harold my brother, who 
 now alone in my penitence stands by my side: 
 he strove manfully and openly ; I blamed him not :
 
 HAROLD. 201 
 
 but Beorn, my cousin, desired my earldom, and 
 he strove against me, wilily and in secret, to my 
 face kind, behind my back despiteful. I detected 
 his falsehood, and meant to detain, but not to slay 
 him. He lay bound in my ship ; he reviled and 
 he taunted me in the hour of my gloom : and 
 when the blood of the sea-kings flowed in fire 
 through my veins. And I lifted my axe in ire ; 
 and my men lifted theirs, and so, and so! 
 Again I say Deadly was my sin! 
 
 " Think not that I seek now to make less my 
 guilt, as I sought when I deemed that life was 
 yet long, and power was yet sweet. Since then 
 I have known worldly evil, and worldly good, 
 the storm and the shine of life ; I have swept the 
 seas, a sea-king ; I have battled with the Dane in 
 his native land; I have almost grasped in my 
 right hand, as I grasped in my dreams, the crown 
 of my kinsman, Canute ; again, I have been a 
 fugitive and an exile; again, I have been in- 
 lawed, and Earl of all the lands from Isis to the 
 And whether in state or in penury, 
 
 * More correctly of Oxford, Somerset, Berkshire, Gloucester, 
 and Hereford. 
 
 K 3
 
 202 HAROLD. 
 
 whether in war or in peace, I have seen the pale 
 face of the nun betrayed, and the gory wounds of 
 the murdered man. Wherefore I come not here 
 to plead for a pardon, which would console me 
 not, but formally to dissever rny kinsmen's cause 
 from mine, which alone sullies and degrades it ; 
 I come here to say, that, coveting not your ac- 
 quittal, fearing not your judgment, I pronounce 
 mine own doom. Cap of noble, and axe of war- 
 rior, I lay aside for ever ; barefooted, and alone, I 
 go hence to the Holy Sepulchre; there to assoil 
 my soul, and implore that grace which cannot 
 come from man ! Harold, step forth in the place 
 of Sweyn the first-born ! And ye prelates and 
 peers, milites and ministers, proceed to adjudge 
 the living ! To you, and to England, he who now 
 quits you is the dead ! " 
 
 He gathered his robe of state over his breast 
 as a monk his gown, and looking neither to right 
 nor to left, passed slowly down the hall, through 
 the crowd, which made way for him in awe and 
 silence ; and it seemed to the assembly as if a 
 cloud had gone from the face of day. 
 
 And Godwin still stood with his face covered 
 by his robe.
 
 HAROLD. 203 
 
 And Harold anxiously watched the faces of 
 the assembly, and saw no relenting ! 
 
 And Gurth crept to Harold's side. 
 
 And the gay Leofwine looked sad. 
 
 And the young Wolnoth turned pale and 
 trembled. 
 
 And the fierce Tostig played with his golden 
 chain. 
 
 And one low sob was heard, and it came from 
 the breast of Aired the meek accuser, God's 
 true but gentle priest.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THIS memorable trial ended, as the reader will 
 have foreseen, in the formal renewal of Sweyn's 
 outlawry, and the formal restitution of the Earl 
 Godwin and his other sons to their lands and 
 honours, with declarations imputing all the blame 
 of the late dissensions to the foreign favourites, 
 and sentence of banishment against them, except 
 only, by way of a bitter mockery, some varlets 
 of low degree, such as Humphrey Cock's-foot, and 
 Richard son of Scrob.* 
 
 The return to power of this able and vigorous 
 
 * Yet how little safe it is for the great to despise the low-born! 
 This very Richard, son of Scrob, more euphoniously styled by 
 the Normans Richard Fitz-Scrob, settled in Herefordshire (he 
 was probably among the retainers of Earl Rolf), and, on Wil- 
 liam's landing, became the chief and most active supporter of 
 the invader in those districts. The sentence of banishment 
 seems to have been mainly confined to the foreigners about the 
 Court for it is clear that many Norman landowners and priests 
 were still left scattered throughout the country.
 
 HAROLD. 205 
 
 family was attended with an instantaneous effect 
 upon the long-relaxed strings of the imperial 
 government. Macbeth heard, and trembled in 
 his moors ; Gryifyth of Wales lit the fire-beacon 
 on moel andcraig. Earl Rolf was banished, but 
 merely as a nominal concession to public opinion ; 
 his kinship to Edward sufficed to restore him 
 soon, not only to England, but to the lordship of 
 the Marches, and thither was he sent, with ade- 
 quate force, against the Welch, who had half-repos- 
 sessed themselves of the borders they harried. 
 Saxon prelates and abbots replaced the Norman 
 fugitives ; and all were contented with the revolu- 
 tion, save the King, for the King lost his Norman 
 friends, and regained his English wife. 
 
 In conformity with the usages of the time, 
 hostages of the loyalty and faith of Godwin were 
 required and conceded. They were selected from 
 his own family ; and the choice fell on Wolnoth, 
 his son, and Haco, the son of Sweyn. As, when 
 nearly all England may be said to have repassed 
 to the hands of Godwin, it would have been an 
 idle precaution to consign these hostages to the 
 keeping of Edward, it was settled, after some
 
 206 HAROLD. 
 
 discussion, that they should be placed in the Court 
 of the Norman Duke until such time as the King, 
 satisfied with the good faith of the family, should 
 authorise their recall: Fatal hostage, fatal ward 
 and host ! 
 
 It was some days after this national crisis, and 
 order and peace were again established in city and 
 land, forest and shire, when, at the setting of the 
 sun, Hilda stood alone by the altar stone of Thor. 
 
 The orb was sinking red and lurid, amidst long 
 cloud-wracks of vermeil and purple, and not one 
 human form was seen in the landscape, save that 
 tall and majestic figure by the Runic shrine and 
 the Druid crommell. She was leaning both 
 hands on her wand, or seid-staff, as it was called 
 in the language of Scandinavian superstition, and 
 bending slightly forward, as in the attitude of 
 listening or expectation. Long before any form 
 appeared on the road below she seemed to be 
 aware of coming footsteps, and probably her 
 habits of life had sharpened her senses ; for she 
 smiled, muttered to herself, " Ere it sets ! " and, 
 changing her posture, leant her arm on the 
 altar, and rested her face upon her hand.
 
 HAROLD. 207 
 
 At length, two figures came up the road ; they 
 n eared the hill ; they saw her, and slowly as- 
 cended the knoll. The one was dressed in the 
 serge of a pilgrim, and his cowl thrown back, 
 showed the face where human beauty and human 
 power lay ravaged and ruined by human passions. 
 He upon whom the pilgrim lightly leaned was 
 attired simply, without the brooch or bracelet 
 common to thegns of high degree, yet his port 
 was that of majesty, and his brow that of mild 
 command. A greater contrast could not be con- 
 ceived than that between these two men, yet 
 united by a family likeness. For the countenance 
 of the last described was, though sorrowful at 
 that moment, and indeed habitually not without 
 a certain melancholy, wonderfully imposing from 
 its calm and sweetness. There, no devouring 
 passions had left the cloud or ploughed the line ; 
 but all the smooth loveliness of youth took dig- 
 nity from the conscious resolve of man. The 
 long hair, of a fair brown, with a slight tinge of 
 gold, as the last sunbeams shot through its luxu- 
 riance, was parted from the temples, and fell in 
 large waves half way to the shoulder. The eye-
 
 208 HAROLD. 
 
 brows, darker in hue, arched and finely traced ; 
 the straight features not less manly than the Nor- 
 man, but less strongly marked ; the cheek, hardy 
 with exercise and exposure, yet still retaining 
 somewhat of youthful bloom under the pale bronze 
 of its sunburnt surface ; the form tall, not gigantic, 
 and vigorous rather from perfect proportion and 
 athletic habits than from breadth and bulk were 
 all singularly characteristic of the Saxon beauty 
 in its highest and purest type. But what chiefly 
 distinguished this personage, was that peculiar 
 dignity, so simple, so sedate, which no pomp 
 seems to dazzle, no danger to disturb ; and which, 
 perhaps, arises from a strong sense of self-depend- 
 ence, and is connected with self-respect a dignity 
 common to the Indian and the Arab, and rare ex- 
 cept in that state of society in which each man is a 
 power in himself. The Latin tragic poet touches 
 close upon that sentiment in the fine lines 
 
 " Rex est qui metuit nihil 
 Hoc regnum sibi quisque dat." * 
 
 So stood the brothers, Sweyn the outlaw and 
 
 * SENECA, Thyest. Act ii. " He is a king who fears nothing; 
 that kingdom every man gives to himself."
 
 HAROLD. 209 
 
 Harold the Earl, before the reputed prophetess. 
 She looked on both with a steady eye, which 
 gradually softened almost into tenderness, as it 
 finally rested upon the pilgrim. 
 
 " And is it thus," she said at last, " that I see 
 the first-born of Godwin the fortunate, for whom 
 so often I have tasked the thunder, and watched 
 the setting sun ? for whom my runes have been 
 graven on the bark of the elm, and the Scin-lasca* 
 been called in pale splendour from the graves of 
 the dead ?" 
 
 " Hilda," said Sweyn, " not now will I accuse 
 thee of the seeds thou hast sown : the harvest is 
 gathered and the sickle is broken. Abjure thy 
 dark Galdra,t and turn as I to the sole light in the 
 future, which shines from the tomb of the Son 
 Divine." 
 
 The Prophetess bowed her head and replied : 
 
 " Belief cometh as the wind. Can the tree say 
 to the wind, ' Rest thou on my boughs ?' or Man. to 
 Belief, 'Fold thy wings on my heart !' Go where thy 
 
 * Scin-laeca, literally a shining corpse ; a species of appari- 
 tion, invoked by the witch or wizard. See SHARON TUKNEE, on 
 the Superstitions of the Anglo-Saxons, b. ii. c. 14. 
 
 f Oaldra, magic.
 
 210 HAROLD. 
 
 soul can find comfort, for thy life hath passed from 
 its uses on earth. And when I would read thy 
 fate, the runes are as blanks, and the wave sleeps 
 unstirred on the fountain. Go where the Fylgia,* 
 whom Alfader gives to each at his birth, leads 
 thee. Thou didst desire love that seemed shut 
 from thee, and I predicted that thy love should 
 awake from the charnel in which the creed that 
 succeeds to the faith of our sires inters life in its 
 bloom. And thou didst covet the fame of the 
 Jarl and the Viking, and I blessed thine axe to thy 
 hand, and wove the sail for thy masts. So long 
 as man knows desire, can Hilda have power over his 
 doom. But when the heart lies in ashes, I raise 
 but a corpse, that at the hush of the charm falls 
 again into its grave. Yet, come to me nearer, O 
 Sweyn, whose cradle I rocked to the chaunt 
 of my rhyme." 
 
 The outlaw turned aside his face, and obeyed. 
 
 She sighed as she took his passive hand in her 
 own, and examined the lines on the palm. Then, 
 as if by an involuntary impulse of fondness and 
 
 * Fylgia, tutelary divinity. See Note (F), at the end of the 
 volume.
 
 HAROLD. 2 I i 
 
 pity, she put aside bis cowl and kissed his 
 brow. 
 
 " Thy skein is spun, and happier than the 
 many who scorn, and the few who lament thee, 
 thou shalt win where they lose. The steel shall 
 not smite thee, the storm shall forbear thee, the 
 goal that thou yearnest for thy steps shall attain. 
 Night hallows the ruin, and peace to the shattered 
 wrecks of the brave !" 
 
 The outlaw heard as if unmoved. But when 
 he turned to Harold, who covered his face with 
 his hand, but could not restrain the tears that 
 flowed through the clasped fingers, a moisture 
 came into his own wild, bright eyes, and he 
 said, " Now, my brother, farewell, for no farther 
 step shalt thou wend with me." 
 
 Harold started, opened his arms, and the out- 
 law fell upon his breast. 
 
 No sound was heard save a single sob, and 
 so close was breast to breast, you could not say 
 from whose heart it came. Then the outlaw 
 wrenched himself from the embrace, and mur- 
 mured, " And Haco my son motherless, father- 
 less hostage in the land of the stranger ! Thou
 
 212 HAROLD. 
 
 wilt remember tliou wilt shield him ; thou be to 
 him mother, father, in the days to come ! So 
 may the saints bless thee ! " With these words, 
 he sprang down the hillock. 
 
 Harold bounded after him ; but Sweyn, halting, 
 said, mournfully, "Is this thy promise? Am I 
 so lost that faith should be broken even with thy 
 father's son?" 
 
 At that touching rebuke, Harold paused, and 
 the outlaw passed his way alone. As the last 
 glimpse of his figure vanished at the turn of the 
 road, whence, on the second of May, the Norman 
 Duke and the Saxon King had emerged side by 
 side, the short twilight closed abruptly, and up 
 from the far forest-land rose the moon. 
 
 Harold stood rooted to the spot, and still gazing 
 on the space, when the Valalaid her hand on his arm. 
 
 "Behold, as the moon rises on the troubled 
 gloaming, so rises the fate of Harold, as yon 
 brief, human shadow, halting between light and 
 darkness, passes away to night. Thou art now 
 the first-born of a House that unites the hopes of 
 the Saxon with the foi'tunes of the Dane." 
 
 "Thinkest thou," said Harold, with a stern
 
 HAROLD. 213 
 
 composure, " that I can have joy and triumph in 
 a brother's exile and woe ? " 
 
 " Not now, and not yet, will the voice of thy 
 true nature be heard ; but the warmth of the sun 
 brings the thunder, and the glory of fortune 
 wakes the storm of the soul." 
 
 " Kinswoman," said Harold, with a slight curl 
 of his lip, " by me, at least, have thy prophecies 
 ever passed as the sough of the air ; neither in 
 horror nor with faith do I think of thy incanta- 
 tions and charms; and I smile alike at the ex- 
 orcism of the shaveling and the spells of the Saga. 
 I have asked thee not to bless mine axe, nor 
 weave my sail. No runic rhyme is on the sword- 
 blade of Harold. I leave my fortunes to the 
 chance of mine own cool brain and strong arm. 
 Vala, between thee and me there is no bond." 
 
 The Prophetess smiled loftily. 
 
 " And what thinkest thou, O self-dependent ! 
 what thinkest thou is the fate which thy brain 
 and thine arm shall win ? " 
 
 " The fate they have won already. I see no Be- 
 yond. The fate of a man sworn to guard his 
 country, love justice, and do right."
 
 214 HAROLD. 
 
 The moon shone full on the heroic face of the 
 young Earl as he spoke ; and on its surface there 
 seemed nought to belie the noble words. Yet 
 the Prophetess, gazing earnestly on that fair 
 countenance, said, in a whisper, that, despite a 
 reason singularly sceptical for the age in which it 
 had been cultured, thrilled to the Saxon's heart, 
 " Under that calm eye sleeps the soul of thy 
 sire, and beneath that brow, so haught and so 
 pure, works the genius that placed the kings of 
 the north in the lineage of thy mother the Dane." 
 
 " Peace ! " said Harold, almost fiercely ; then, 
 as if ashamed of the weakness of his momentary 
 irritation, he added, with a faint smile, " Let us 
 not talk of these matters while my heart is still 
 sad and away from the thoughts of the world, 
 with my brother the lonely outlaw. Night is on 
 us, and the ways are yet unsafe ; for the king's 
 troops, disbanded in haste, were made up of many 
 who turn to robbers in peace. Alone, and un- 
 armed, save my ateghar, I would crave a night's 
 rest under thy roof; and," he hesitated, and a 
 slight blush came over his cheek " and I would 
 fain see if your grandchild is as fair as when I last
 
 HAROLD. 215 
 
 looked on her blue eyes, that then wept for 
 Harold ere he went into exile." 
 
 " Her tears are not at her command, nor her 
 smiles," said the Vala, solemnly ; " her tears flow 
 from the fount of thy sorrows, and her smiles are 
 the beams from thy joys. For know, O Harold ! 
 that Edith is thine earthly Fylgia ; thy fate and 
 her fate are as one. And vainly as man would 
 escape from his shadow, would soul wrench itself 
 from the soul that Skulda hath linked to its 
 doom." 
 
 Harold made no reply ; but his step, habitually 
 slow, grew more quick and light, and this time 
 his reason found no fault with the oracles of the 
 Vala.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 As Hilda entered the hall, the various idlers ac- 
 customed to feed at her cost were about retiring, 
 some to their homes in the vicinity, some, apper- 
 taining to the household, to the dormitories in the 
 old Roman villa. 
 
 It was not the habit of the Saxon noble, as it was 
 of the Norman, to put hospitality to profit, by re- 
 garding his guests in the light of armed retainers. 
 Liberal as the Briton, the cheer of the board and 
 the shelter of the roof were afforded with a hand 
 equally unselfish and indiscriminate ; and the 
 doors of the more wealthy and munificent might 
 be almost literally said to stand open from morn 
 to eve. 
 
 As Harold followed the Vala across the vast 
 atrium, his face was recognised, and a shout of 
 enthusiastic welcome greeted the popular Earl.
 
 HAROLD. 217 
 
 The only voices that did not swell that cry, were 
 those of three monks from a neighbouring convent, 
 who chose to wink at the supposed practices of the 
 Morthwyrtha,* from the affection they bore to 
 her ale and mead, and the gratitude they felt for 
 her ample gifts to their convent. 
 
 " One of the wicked House, brother," whis- 
 pered the monk. 
 
 " Yea ; mockers and scorners are Godwin and 
 his lewd sons," answered the monk. 
 
 And all three sighed and scowled, as the door 
 closed on the hostess and her stately guest. 
 
 Two tall and not ungraceful lamps lighted the 
 same chamber in which Hilda was first presented 
 to the reader. The handmaids were still at their 
 spindles, and nimbly shot the white web as the 
 mistress entered. She paused, and her brow knit, 
 as she eyed the work. 
 
 " But three parts done ?" she said, " weave fast, 
 and weave strong." 
 
 Harold, not heeding the maids or their task, 
 gazed inquiringly round, and from a nook near 
 the window, Edith sprang forward with a joyous 
 
 * Morthwyrtha, worshipper of the dead. 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 HAROLD. 
 
 cry, and a face all glowing with delight sprang 
 forward, as if to the arms of a brother ; but, 
 within a step or so of that noble guest, she 
 stopped shortj and her eyes fell to the ground. 
 
 Harold held his breath in admiring silence. The 
 child he had loved from her cradle stood before 
 him as a woman. Even since we last saw her, in 
 the interval between the spring and the autumn, 
 the year had ripened the youth of the maiden, 
 as it had mellowed the fruits of the earth; and 
 her cheek was rosy with the celestial blush, and 
 her form rounded to the nameless grace, which 
 say that infancy is no more. 
 
 He advanced and took her hand, but for the 
 first time in his life in their greetings, he neither 
 gave nor received the kiss. 
 
 " You are no child now, Edith," said he, invo- 
 luntarily ; " but still set apart, I pray you, some 
 remains of the old childish love for Harold." 
 
 Edith's charming lips smiled softly ; she raised 
 her eyes to his, and their innocent fondness spoke 
 through happy tears. 
 
 But few words passed in the short interval 
 between Harold's entrance and his retirement to
 
 HAROLD. 219 
 
 the chamber prepared for him in haste, Hilda 
 herself led him to a rude ladder which admitted 
 to a room above, evidently added, by some Saxon 
 lord, to the old Roman pile. The ladder itself 
 showed the precaution of one accustomed to sleep 
 in the midst of peril ; for by a kind of windlass in 
 the room, it could be drawn up at the inmate's will, 
 and, so drawn, left below a dark and deep chasm, 
 delving down to the foundations of the house ; 
 nevertheless the room itself had all the luxury 
 of the time ; the bedstead was quaintly carved, 
 and of some rare wood ; a trophy of arms though 
 very ancient, sedulously polished hung on the 
 wall. There, were the small round shield and 
 spear of the earlier Saxon, with his vizorless helm, 
 and the short curved knife or saex,* from which 
 some antiquarians deem that the Saxish men take 
 their renowned name. 
 
 Edith, following Hilda, proffered to the guest, 
 on a salver of gold, spiced wines and confections ; 
 
 * It is a disputed question whether the saex of the earliest Saxon 
 invaders was a long or a short curved weapon, nay, whether it was 
 curved or straight ; but the author sides with those who contend that 
 it was a short, crooked weapon, easily concealed by a cloak, and 
 similar to those depicted on the banner of the East Saxons. 
 
 L 2
 
 220 HAROLD. 
 
 while Hilda, silently and unperceived, waved her 
 seid staff over the bed, and rested her pale hand 
 on the pillow. 
 
 " Nay, sweet cousin," said Harold, smiling, 
 " this is not one of the fashions of old, but rather, 
 methinks, borrowed from the Frankish manners 
 in the court of King Edward." 
 
 " Not so, Harold," answered Hilda, quickly 
 turning; "such was ever the ceremony due to 
 Saxon king, when he slept in a subject's house, 
 ere our kinsmen the Danes introduced that un- 
 royal wassail, which left subject and king unable 
 to hold or to quaff cup, when the board was left 
 for the bed." 
 
 " Thou rebukest, O Hilda, too tauntingly, the 
 pride of Godwin's House, when thou givest to his 
 homely son the ceremonial of a king. But, so 
 served, I envy not kings, fair Edith." 
 
 He took the cup, raised it to his lips, and when 
 he placed it on the small table by his side, the 
 women had left the chamber, and he was alone. 
 He stood for some minutes absorbed in reverie, 
 and his soliloquy ran somewhat thus : 
 
 " Why said the Vala that Edith's fate was in-
 
 HAROLD. 221 
 
 woven with mine ? And why did 1 believe and 
 bless the Vala, when she so said? Can Edith 
 ever be my wife ? The monk-king designs her 
 for the cloister Woe, and well-a-day! Sweyn, 
 Sweyn, let thy doom forewarn me ! And if I 
 stand up in my place and say, ' Give age and 
 grief to the cloister youth and delight to man's 
 hearth,' what will answer the monks ? * Edith 
 cannot be thy wife, son of Godwin, for faint and 
 scarce traced though your affinity of blood, ye are 
 within the banned degrees of the Church. Edith 
 may be wife to another, if thou wilt, barren 
 spouse to the Church, or mother of children who 
 lisp not Harold's name as their father.' Out on 
 these priests with their mummeries, and out on 
 their war upon human hearts !" 
 
 His fair brow grew stern and fierce as the 
 Norman Duke's in his ire ; and had you seen hin? 
 at that moment you would have seen the true 
 brother of Sweyn. He broke from his thoughts 
 with the strong effort of a man habituated to self- 
 control, and advanced to the narrow window, 
 opened the lattice, and looked out. 
 
 The moon was in all her splendour. The long
 
 222 HAROLD. 
 
 deep shadows of the breathless forest chequered 
 the silvery whiteness of open sward and inter- 
 vening glade. Ghostly arose on the knoll before 
 him the grey columns of the mystic Druid, dark 
 and indistinct the bloody altar of the Warrior god. 
 But there his eye was arrested ; for whatever 
 is least distinct and defined in a landscape has the 
 charm that is the strongest ; and, while he gazed, 
 he thought that a pale phosphoric light broke from 
 the mound with the bautastein, that rose by the 
 Teuton altar. He thought, for he was not sure 
 that it was not some cheat of the fancy. Gazing 
 still, in the centre of that light there appeared 
 to gleam forth for one moment, a form of super- 
 human height. It was the form of a man, 
 that seemed clad in arms like those on the wall, 
 leaning on a spear, whose point was lost be- 
 hind the shafts of the crommell. And the face 
 grew in that moment distinct from the light 
 which shimmered around it, a face large as some 
 early god's, but stamped with unutterable and 
 solemn woe. He drew back a step, passed his 
 hand over his eyes, and looked again. Light and 
 figure alike had vanished ; nought was seen save
 
 HAROLD. 223 
 
 the grey columns and the dim fane. The Earl's 
 lip curved in derision of his weakness. He 
 closed the lattice, undressed, knelt for a moment 
 or so by the bed-side, and his prayer was brief 
 and simple, nor accompanied with the crossings 
 and signs customary in his age. He rose, ex- 
 tinguished the lamp, and threw himself on the 
 bed. 
 
 The moon, thus relieved of the lamp-light, came 
 clear and bright through the room, shone on the 
 trophied arms, and fell upon Harold's face, casting 
 its brightness on the pillow on which the Vala 
 had breathed her charm. And Harold slept 
 slept long, his face calm, his breathing regular ; 
 but ere the moon sunk and the dawn rose, the 
 features were dark and troubled, the breath came 
 by gasps, the brow was knit, and the teeth 
 clenched.
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 THE HEATHEN ALTAR AND THE SAXON CHUKCH. 
 
 L 3
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 WHILE Harold sleeps, let us here pause to 
 survey for the first time the greatness of that 
 House to which Sweyn's exile had left him the 
 heir. The fortunes of Godwin had been those 
 which no man not eminently versed in the science 
 of his kind can achieve. Though the fable which 
 some modern historians of great name have re- 
 peated and detailed, as to his early condition as the 
 son of a cow-herd, is utterly groundless,* and he 
 belonged certainly to a house all-powerful at the 
 time of his youth, he was unquestionably the 
 builder of his own greatness. That he should 
 rise so high in the early part of his career was 
 
 * See Note (G), at the end of the volume.
 
 228 HAROLD. 
 
 less remarkable than that he should have so long 
 continued the possessor of a power and state in 
 reality more than regal. 
 
 But, as has been before implied, Godwin's civil 
 capacities were more prominent than his warlike. 
 And this it is which invests him with that peculiar 
 interest which attracts us to those who knit our 
 modern intelligence with the past. In that dim 
 world before the Norman deluge, we are startled 
 to recognise the gifts that ordinarily distinguish a 
 man of peace in a civilized age. 
 
 His father, Wolnoth, had been "Childe"* of 
 the South Saxons, or thegn of Sussex, a nephew 
 of Edric Streone, Earl of Mercia, the unprincipled 
 but able minister of Ethelred, who betrayed his 
 master to Canute, by whom, according to most 
 authorities, he was righteously, though not very 
 legally, slain as a reward for the treason. 
 
 * SAXON CHHON. : FLORENCE WIGORN. Sir F. Palgrave says 
 that the title of Childe is equivalent to that of Atheling. With 
 that remarkable appreciation of evidence which generally makes 
 him so invaluable as a judicial authority where accounts are con- 
 tradictory, Sir F. Palgrave discards with eilent contempt the absurd 
 romance of Godwin's station of herdsman, to which, upon such 
 very fallacious and flimsy authorities, Thierry and Sharon Turner 
 have been betrayed into lending their distinguished names.
 
 HAROLD. 229 
 
 " I promised," said the Dane king, " to set thy 
 head higher than other men's, and I keep my 
 word." The trunkless head was set on the gates 
 of London. 
 
 Wolnoth had quarrelled with his uncle 
 
 Brightric, Edric's brother, and before the arrival 
 
 of Canute, had betaken himself to the piracy of 
 
 a sea chief, seduced twenty of the king's ships, 
 
 plundered the southern coasts, burnt the royal 
 
 navy, and then his history disappears from the 
 
 chronicles; but immediately afterwards the great 
 
 Danish army, called Thurkell's Host, invaded the 
 
 coast, and kept their chief station on the Thames. 
 
 Their victorious arms soon placed the country 
 
 almost at their command. The traitor Edric 
 
 joined them with a power of more than 10,000 
 
 men ; and it is probable enough that the ships of 
 
 Wolnoth had before this time melted amicably 
 
 into the armament of the Danes. If this, which 
 
 seems the most likely conjecture, be received, 
 
 Godwin, then a mere youth, would naturally have 
 
 commenced his career in the cause of Canute ; and 
 
 as the son of a formidable chief of thegn's rank, 
 
 and even as kinsman to Edric, who, whatever his
 
 230 HAROLD. 
 
 crimes, must have retained a party it was wise 
 to conciliate, Godwin's favour with Canute, whose 
 policy would lead him to shew marked distinction 
 to any able Saxon follower, ceases to be surprising. 
 
 The son of "Wolnoth accompanied Canute in 
 his military expedition to the Scandinavian conti- 
 nent, and here a signal victory, planned by God- 
 win, and executed solely by himself and the Saxon 
 band under his command, without aid from 
 Canute's Danes, made the most memorable mili- 
 tary exploit of his life, and confirmed his rising 
 fortunes. 
 
 Edric, though he is said to have been low born, 
 had married the sister of King Ethelred ; and as 
 Godwin advanced in fame, Canute did not disdain 
 to bestow his own sister in marriage on the elo- 
 quent favourite, who probably kept no small por- 
 tion of the Saxon population to their allegiance. 
 On the death of this, his first wife, who bore him 
 but one son* (who died by accident), he found a 
 
 * This first wife, Thyra, was of very unpopular repute with 
 the Saxons. She was accused of sending young English persons 
 as slaves into Denmark, and is said to have been killed by 
 lightning.
 
 HAROLD. 231 
 
 second spouse in the same royal house ; and the 
 mother of his six living sons and two daughters 
 was the niece of his king, and sister of Sweyn, who 
 subsequently filled the throne of Denmark. After 
 the death of Canute, the Saxon's predilections in 
 favour of the Saxon line became apparent ; but it 
 was either his policy or his principles always to 
 defer to the popular will as expressed in the 
 national council ; and on the preference given by 
 the Witan to Harold the son of Canute over the 
 heirs of Ethelred, he yielded his own inclinations. 
 The great power of the Danes, and the amicable 
 fusion of their race with the Saxon which had now 
 taken place, are apparent in this decision ; for not 
 only did Earl Leofric, of Mercia, though himself a 
 Saxon, (as well as the Earl of Northumbria, with 
 the thegns north of the Thames,) declare for 
 Harold the Dane, but the citizens of London 
 were of the same party ; and Godwin represented 
 little more than the feeling of his own principality 
 of Wessex. 
 
 From that time, Godwin, however, became 
 identified with the English cause; and even
 
 232 HAROLD. 
 
 many who believed him guilty of some share in 
 the murder, or at least the betrayal of Alfred, 
 Edward's brother, sought excuses in the disgust 
 with which Godwin had regarded the foreign 
 retinue that Alfred had brought with him, as if 
 to owe his throne* to Norman swords, rather 
 than to English hearts. 
 
 Hardicanute, who succeeded Harold, whose 
 memory he abhorred, whose corpse he disinterred 
 and flung into a fen,t had been chosen by the 
 unanimous council both of English and Danish 
 thegns ; and despite Hardicanute's first vehement 
 accusations of Godwin, the Earl still remained 
 throughout that reign as powerful as in the two 
 preceding it. When Hardicanute dropped down 
 dead at a marriage banquet, it was Godwin who 
 placed Edward upon the throne ; and that great 
 Earl must either have been conscious of his inno- 
 
 * It is just however to Godwin to say, that there is no proof 
 of his share in this barbarous transaction ; the presumptions, on 
 the contrary, are in his favour ; but the authorities are too con- 
 tradictory, and the whole event too obscure, to enable us un- 
 hesitatingly to confirm the acquittal he received in his own age, 
 and from his own national tribunal. 
 
 t Anglo-Saxon Chronicle.
 
 HAROLD. 233 
 
 cence of the murder of Edward's brother, or 
 assured of his own irresponsible power, when he 
 said to the prince who knelt at his feet, and, fear- 
 ful of the difficulties in his way, implored the 
 Earl to aid his abdication of the throne and 
 return to Normandy 
 
 " You are the son of Ethelred, grandson of 
 Edgar. Reign, it is your duty ; better to live in 
 glory than die in exile. You are of mature years, 
 and having known sorrow and need, can better 
 feel for your people. Rely on me, and there will 
 be none of the difficulties you dread; whom 
 I favour, England favours." 
 
 And shortly afterwards, in the national assem- 
 bly, Godwin won Edward his throne. " Powerful 
 in speech, powerful in bringing over people to 
 what he desired, some yielded to his words, some 
 to bribes." * Verily, Godwin was a man to have 
 risen as high had he lived later ! 
 
 So Edward reigned, and agreeably, it is said, 
 
 with previous stipulations, married the daughter 
 
 of his king-maker. Beautiful as Edith the Queen 
 
 was in mind and in person, Edward apparently 
 
 * WILLIAM OF MALMESBURY.
 
 234 HAROLD. 
 
 loved her not. She dwelt in his palace, his wife 
 only in name. 
 
 Tostig (as we have seen) had married the 
 daughter of Baldwin, Count of Flanders, sister 
 to Matilda, wife to the Norman Duke ; and thus 
 the House of Godwin was triply allied to princely 
 lineage the Danish, the Saxon, the Flemish. 
 And Tostig might have said, as in his heart 
 William the Norman said, " My children shall 
 descend from Charlemagne and Alfred." 
 
 Godwin's life, though thus outwardly brilliant, 
 was too incessantly passed in public affairs and 
 politic schemes to allow the worldly man much 
 leisure to watch over the nurture and rearing of the 
 bold spirits of his sons. Githa his wife, the Dane, 
 a woman with a haughty but noble spirit, imper- 
 fect education, and some of the wild and lawless 
 blood derived from her race of heathen sea-kings, 
 was more fitted to stir their ambition, and inflame 
 their fancies, than curb their tempers and mould 
 their hearts. 
 
 We have seen the career of Sweyn ; but Sweyn 
 was an angel of light compared to his brother 
 Tostig. He who can be penitent has ever some-
 
 HAROLD. 235 
 
 thing lofty in his original nature ; but Tostig was 
 remorseless \ as the tiger, as treacherous and as 
 fierce. With less intellectual capacities than any 
 of his brothers, he had more personal ambition 
 than all put together. A kind of effeminate 
 vanity, not uncommon with daring natures (for 
 the bravest races and the bravest soldiers are 
 usually the vainest; the desire to shine is as 
 visible in the fop as in the hero), made him rest- 
 less both for command and notoriety. " May 
 I ever be in the mouths of men," was his favourite 
 prayer. Like his maternal ancestry, the Danes, 
 he curled his long hair, and went as a bridegroom 
 to the feast of the ravens. 
 
 Two only of that house had studied the Humane 
 Letters, which were no longer disregarded by the 
 princes of the Continent; they were the sweet 
 sister, the eldest of the family, fading fast in her 
 loveless home, and Harold. 
 
 But Harold's mind, in which what we call 
 common sense was carried to genius, a mind 
 singularly practical and sagacious, like his father's, 
 cared little for theological learning and priestly 
 legend for all that poesy of religion in which
 
 236 HAROLD. 
 
 the Woman was wafted from the sorrows of 
 earth. 
 
 Godwin himself was no favourite of the Church, 
 and had seen too much of the abuses of the Saxon 
 priesthood (perhaps, with few exceptions, the 
 most corrupt and illiterate in all Europe, which 
 is saying much,) to instill into his children that 
 reverence for the spiritual authority which existed 
 abroad ; and the enlightenment, wfyich in him was 
 experience in life, was in Harold, betimes, the 
 result of study and reflection. The books of the 
 classical world opened to the young Saxon views 
 of human duties and human responsibilities utterly 
 distinct from the unmeaning ceremonials and fleshly 
 mortifications in which even the higher theology 
 of that day placed the elements of virtue. He 
 smiled in scorn when some Dane, whose life had 
 been passed in the alternate drunkenness of wine 
 and of blood, thought he had opened the gates 
 of heaven by bequeathing lands gained by a 
 robber's sword, to pamper the lazy sloth of some 
 fifty monks. If those monks had presumed to 
 question his own actions, his disdain would have 
 been mixed with simple wonder that men so
 
 HAROLD. 237 
 
 besotted in ignorance, and who could not construe 
 the Latin of the very prayers they pattered, 
 should presume to be the judges of educated men. 
 It is possible for his nature was earnest that 
 a pure and enlightened clergy, that even a 
 clergy, though defective in life, zealous in duty 
 and cultivated in mind, such a clergy as Alfred 
 sought to found, and as Lanfranc endeavoured 
 (not without some success) to teach would have 
 bowed his strong sense to that grand and subtle 
 truth which dwells in spiritual authority. But as 
 it was, he stood aloof from the rude superstition 
 of his age, and early in life made himself the 
 arbiter of his own conscience. Reducing his reli- 
 gion to the simplest elements of our creed, he 
 found rather in the books of Heathen authors 
 than in the lives of the saints, his notions of the 
 larger morality which relates to the citizen and 
 the man. The love of country ; the sense of 
 justice; fortitude in adverse, and temperance in 
 prosperous fortune, became portions of his very 
 mind. Unlike his father, he played no actor's 
 part in those qualities which had won him the 
 popular heart. He was gentle and affable ; above
 
 238 IIAROLD. 
 
 all, he was fair-dealing and just, not because it 
 was politic to seem, but his nature to be, so. 
 
 Nevertheless, Harold's character, beautiful and 
 sublime in many respects as it was, had its strong 
 leaven of human imperfection in that very self- 
 dependence which was born of his reason and his 
 pride. In resting so solely on man's perceptions 
 of the right, he lost one attribute of the true 
 hero -faith. We do not mean that word in the 
 religious sense alone, but in the more compre- 
 hensive. He did not rely on the Celestial Some- 
 thing pervading all nature, never seen, only felt 
 when duly courted, stronger and lovelier than 
 what eye could behold and mere reason could 
 embrace. Believing, it is true, in God, he lost 
 those fine links that unite God to man's secret 
 heart, and which are woven alike from the sim- 
 plicity of the child and the wisdom of the poet. 
 To use a modern illustration, his large mind 
 was " a cupola lighted from below." 
 
 His bravery, though inflexible as the fiercest sea- 
 king's, when need arose for its exercise, was not his 
 prominent characteristic. He despised the brute 
 valour of Tostig, his bravery was a necessary
 
 HAROLD. 239 
 
 part of a firm and balanced manhood the bravery 
 of Hector, not Achilles. Constitutionally averse to 
 bloodshed, he could seem timid where daring only 
 gratified a wanton vanity, or aimed at a selfish 
 object. On the other hand, if c?wty demanded daring, 
 no danger could deter, no policy warp him ; he 
 could seem rash; he could even seem merciless. 
 In the what ought to be, he understood a must be. 
 And it was natural to this peculiar, yet tho- 
 roughly English temperament, to be, in action, 
 rather steadfast and patient than quick and ready. 
 Placed in perils familiar to him, nothing could 
 exceed his vigour and address ; but if taken 
 unawares, and before his judgment could come to 
 his aid, he was liable to be surprised into error. 
 Large minds are rarely quick, unless they have 
 been corrupted into unnatural vigilance by the 
 necessities of suspicion. But a nature more 
 thoroughly unsuspecting, more frank, trustful, 
 and genuinely loyal than that young Earl's, it 
 was impossible to conceive. All these attributes 
 considered, we have the key to much of Harold's 
 character and conduct in the later events of his 
 fated and tragic life.
 
 240 HAROLD. 
 
 But with this temperament, so manly and 
 simple, we are not to suppose that Harold, while 
 rejecting the superstitions of one class, was so far 
 beyond his time as to reject those of another. 
 No son of fortune, no man placing himself and 
 the world in antagonism, can ever escape from 
 some belief in the Invisible. Caesar could ridicule 
 and profane the mystic rites of Roman mythology, 
 but he must still believe in his fortune, as in a 
 god. And Harold, in his very studies, seeing 
 the freest and boldest minds of antiquity subjected 
 to influences akin to those of his Saxon fore- 
 fathers, felt less shame in yielding to them, vain 
 as they might be, than in monkish impostures 
 so easily detected. Though hitherto he had 
 rejected all direct appeal to the magic devices of 
 Hilda, the sound of her dark sayings, heard in 
 childhood, still vibrated on his soul as man. 
 Belief in omens, in days lucky or unlucky, in the 
 stars, was universal in every class of the Saxon. 
 Harold had his own fortunate day, the day of his 
 nativity, the 14th of October. All enterprises 
 undertaken on that day had hitherto been suc- 
 cessful. He believed in the virtue of that day,
 
 HAROLD. 241 
 
 as Cromwell believed in his 3d of September. 
 For the rest, we have described him as he was 
 in that part of his career in which he is now 
 presented. Whether altered by fate and circum- 
 stances, time will show. As yet, no selfish 
 ambition leagued with the natural desire of youth 
 and intellect, for their fair share of fame and 
 power. His patriotism, fed by the example of 
 Greek and Roman worthies, was genuine, pure, 
 and ardent ; he could have stood in the pass with 
 Leonidas, or leaped into the gulf with Curtius. 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AT dawn, Harold woke from uneasy and broken 
 slumbers, and his eyes fell upon the face of Hilda 
 large, and fair, and unutterably calm, as the face 
 of Egyptian sphinx. 
 
 " Have thy dreams been prophetic, son of God- 
 win ?" said the Vala. 
 
 " Our Lord forfend," replied the Earl, with 
 unusual devoutness. 
 
 " Tell them, and let me read the rede ; sense 
 dwells in the voices of the night." 
 
 Harold mused, and after a short pause, he said : 
 
 " Methinks, Hilda, I can myself explain how 
 those dreams came to haunt me." 
 
 Then raising himself on his elbow, he continued, 
 while he fixed his clear penetrating eyes upon his 
 hostess : 
 
 " Tell me frankly, Hilda, didst thou not cause
 
 HAROLD. 243 
 
 some liglit to shine on yonder knoll, by the mound 
 and stone, within the temple of the Druids?" 
 
 But if Harold had suspected himself to be the 
 dupe of some imposture, the thought vanished 
 when he saw the look of keen interest, even of 
 awe, which Hilda's face instantly assumed. 
 
 " Didst thou see a light, son of Godwin, by the 
 altar of Thor, and over the bautastein of the 
 mighty dead? a flame, lambent and livid, like 
 moonbeams collected over snow ?" 
 
 " So seemed to me the light." 
 
 " No human hand ever kindled that flame, 
 which announces the presence of the Dead," said 
 Hilda, with a tremulous voice ; "though seldom, 
 uncompelled by the seid and the rune, does the 
 spectre itself warn the eyes of the living." 
 
 " What shape, or what shadow of shape, does 
 that spectre assume ? " 
 
 " It rises in the midst of the flame, pale as the 
 mist on the mountain, and vast as the giants of 
 old ; with the ssex, and the spear, and the shield, 
 of the sons of Woden. Thou hast seen the 
 Scin-laeca!" continued Hilda, looking full on the 
 face of the Earl. 
 
 M 2
 
 244 HAROLD. 
 
 " If tliou deceives! me not," began Harold, 
 doubting still. 
 
 " Deceive thee ! not to save the crown of the 
 Saxon dare I mock the might of the dead. Know 
 est thou not or hath thy vain lore stood in place 
 of the lore of thy fathers that where a hero of 
 old is buried, his treasures lie in his grave ; that 
 over that grave is at times seen at night the flame 
 that thou sawest, and the dead in his image of air ? 
 Oft seen in the days that are gone, when the dead 
 and the living had one faith were one race ; now 
 never marked, but for portent, and prophecy, and 
 doom : glory or woe to the eyes that see ! On yon 
 knoll, JEsc, (the first-born of Cerdic, that Father- 
 King of the Saxons,) has his grave where the mound 
 rises green, and the stone gleams wan, by the altar 
 of Thor. He smote the Britons in their temple, and 
 he fell smiting. They buried him in his arms, and 
 with the treasures his right hand had won. Fate 
 hangs on the house of Cerdic, or the realm of the 
 Saxon, when Woden calls the Iccca of his son from 
 the grave." 
 
 Hilda, much troubled, bent her face over her 
 clasped hands, and, rocking to and fro, muttered
 
 HAROLD. 245 
 
 some rimes unintelligible to the ear of her 
 listener. Then she turned to him, command* 
 ingly, and said : 
 
 " Thy dreams now, indeed, are oracles, more 
 true than living Vala could charm with the wand, 
 and the rune : Unfold them." 
 
 Thus adjured, Harold resumed : 
 
 " Methought, then, that I was on a broad, 
 level plain, in the noon of day ; all \ras clear to 
 my eye, and glad to my heart. I was alone, and 
 went on my way rejoicing. Suddenly the earth 
 opened under my feet, and I fell deep, fathom- 
 deep ; deep, as if to that central pit, which our 
 heathen sires called Niffelheim the Home of 
 Vapour the hell of the dead who die without 
 glory. Stunned by the fall, I lay long, locked as 
 in a dream in the midst of a dream. When I 
 opened my eyes, behold I was girt round with 
 dead men's bones ; and the bones moved round me, 
 undulating, as the dry leaves that wirble round in 
 the winds of the winter. And from the midst of 
 them peered a trunkless skull, and on the skull was 
 a mitre, and from the yawning jaws a voice came 
 hissing, as a serpent's hiss, ( Harold, the scorner,
 
 246 HAROLD. 
 
 thou art ours !' Then, as from the buzz of an army, 
 came voices multitudinous, ' Thou art ours !' I 
 sought to rise, and behold my limbs were bound, 
 and the gyves were fine and frail, as the web of the 
 gossamer, and they weighed on me like chains of 
 iron. And I felt an anguish of soul that no 
 words can speak an anguish both of horror and 
 shame ; and my manhood seemed to ooze from me, 
 and I was weak as a child new born. Then sud- 
 denly there rushed forth a freezing wind, as from 
 an air of ice, and the bones from their whirl stood 
 still, and the buzz ceased, and the mitred skull 
 grinned on me still and voiceless ; and serpents 
 darted their arrowy tongues from the eyeless 
 sockets. And lo, before me stood, (O Hilda, I see 
 it now !) the form of the spectre that had risen from 
 yonder knoll. With his spear, and sagx, and his 
 shield, he stood before me ; and his face, though 
 pale as that of one long dead, was stern as the face of 
 a warrior in the van of armed men ; he stretched his 
 hand, and he smote his saix on his shield, and the 
 clang sounded hollow ; the gyves broke at the clash 
 I sprang to my feet, and I stood side by side with 
 the phantom, dauntless. Then, suddenly, the mitre
 
 HAROLD. 247 
 
 on the skull changed to a helm ; and where the 
 skull had grinned, trunkless and harmless, stood a 
 shape like War made incarnate ; a Thing above 
 giants, with its crest to the stars, and its form an 
 eclipse between the sun and the day. The earth 
 changed to ocean, and the ocean was blood, and the 
 ocean seemed deep as the seas where the whales 
 sport in the North, but the surge rose not to the 
 knee of that measureless image. And the ravens 
 came round it from all parts of the heaven, and the 
 vultures with dead eyes and dull scream. And all 
 the bones, before scattered and shapeless, sprung to 
 life and to form, some monks, and some warriors ; 
 and there was a hoot, and a hiss, and a roar, and 
 the storm of arms. And a broad pennon rose out 
 of the sea of blood, and from the clouds came a 
 pale hand, and it wrote on the pennon, * Harold 
 the Accursed ! ' Then said the stern shape by 
 my side, f Harold, fearest thou the dead men's 
 bones?' and its voice was as a trumpet that 
 gives strength to the craven, and I answered, 
 'Niddering, indeed, were Harold, to fear the 
 bones of the dead ! ' 
 
 " As I spoke, as if hell had burst loose,
 
 2 -IS HAROLD. 
 
 came a gibber of scorn, and all vanished at once, 
 save the ocean of blood. Slowly came from the 
 north, over the sea, a bird like a raven, save that 
 it was blood-red, like the ocean ; and there came 
 from the south, swimming towards me, a lion. And 
 I looked to the spectre ; and the pride of war had 
 gone from its face, which was so sad that me- 
 thought I forgot raven and lion, and wept to see 
 it. Then the spectre took me in its vast arms, 
 and its breath froze my veins, and it kissed my 
 brow and my lips, and said, gently and fondly, as 
 my mother in some childish sickness, " Harold, 
 my best beloved, mourn not. Thou hast all 
 which the sons of Woden dreamed in their dreams 
 of Valhalla ! ' Thus saying, the form' receded 
 slowly, slowly, still gazing on me with its sad 
 eyes. I stretched forth my hand to detain it, 
 and in my grasp was a shadowy sceptre. And, 
 lo ! round me, as if from the earth, sprang up 
 thegns and chiefs, in their armour ; and a board 
 was spread, and wassail was blithe around me. 
 So my heart felt cheered and light, and in my 
 hand was still the sceptre. And we feasted long 
 and merrily ; but over the feast flapped the wings
 
 HAROLD. 249 
 
 of the blood-red raven, and, over the blood-red 
 sea beyond, swam the lion, near and near. And in 
 the heavens there were two stars, one pale and 
 steadfast, the other rushing and luminous ; and 
 a shadowy hand pointed from the cloud to the 
 pale star, and a voice said, ' Lo, Harold ! the star 
 that shone on thy birth.' And another hand 
 pointed to the luminous star, and another voice 
 said, ' Lo ! the star that shone on the birth of the 
 victor.' Then, lo ! the bright star grew fiercer 
 and larger; and, rolling on with a hissing sound, 
 as when iron is dipped into water, it rushed 
 over the disk of the mournful planet, and the 
 whole heavens seemed on fire. So methought 
 the dream faded away, and in fading, I heard a 
 full swell of music, as the swell of an anthem in an 
 aisle ', a music like that which but once in my life 
 I heard ; when I stood in the train of Edward, in 
 the halls of Winchester, the day they crowned 
 him king." 
 
 Harold ceased, and the Vala slowly lifted her 
 head from her bosom, and surveyed him in pro- 
 found silence, and with a gaze that seemed vacant 
 
 and meaningless. 
 
 M 3
 
 250 HAROLD. 
 
 " Why dost thou look on me thus, and why art 
 thou so silent ? " asked the Earl. 
 
 " The cloud is on my sight, and the burthen is 
 on my soul, and I cannot read thy rede," mur- 
 mured the Vala. "But morn, the ghost-chaser, that 
 waketh life, the action, charms into slumber life, 
 the thought. As the stars pale at the rising of the 
 sun, so fade the lights of the soul when the buds 
 revive in the dews, and the lark sings to the day. 
 In thy dream lies thy future, as the wing of the 
 moth in the web of the changing worm ; but, whe- 
 ther for weal or for woe, thou shalt burst through 
 thy mesh, and spread thy plumes in the air. Of 
 myself I know nought. Await the hour when 
 Skulda shall pass into the soul of her servant, and 
 thy fate shall rush from my lips as the rush of 
 the waters from the heart of the cave." 
 
 tf I am content to abide," said Harold, with his 
 wonted smile, so calm and so lofty ; " but I can- 
 not promise thee that I shall heed thy rede, or 
 obey thy warning, when my reason hath awoke, 
 as while I speak it awakens, from the fumes of 
 the fancy and the mists of the night." 
 
 The Vala sighed heavily, but made no answer.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 GITHA, Earl Godwin's wife, sate in her chamber, 
 and her heart was sad. In the room was one of her 
 sons, the one dearer to her than all, Wolnoth, her 
 darling. For the rest of her sons were stalwart 
 and strong of frame, and in their infancy she had 
 known not a mother's fears. But Wolnoth had 
 come into the world before his time, and sharp 
 had been the travail of the mother, and long 
 between life and death the struggle of the new- 
 born babe. And his cradle had been rocked with 
 a trembling knee, and his pillow been bathed with 
 hot tears, l^rail had been his childhood a thing 
 that hung on her care ; and now, as the boy 
 grew, blooming and strong, into youth, the mother 
 felt that she had given life twice to her child.
 
 252 HAROLD. 
 
 Therefore was he more dear to her than the rest ; 
 and, therefore, as she gazed upon him now, fair 
 and smiling, and hopeful, she mourned for him 
 more than for Sweyn, the outcast and crimi- 
 nal, on his pilgrimage of woe, to the waters of 
 Jordan, and the tomb of our Lord. For Wol- 
 noth, selected as the hostage for the faith of his 
 house, was to be sent from her arms to the Court 
 of William the Norman. And the youth smiled 
 and Avas gay, choosing vestment, and mantle, and 
 ateghars of gold, that he might be flaunting and 
 brave in. the halls of knighthood and beauty, the 
 school of the proudest chivalry of the Christian 
 world. Too young, and too thoughtless, to share 
 the wise hate of his elders for the manners and 
 forms of the foreigners, their gaiety and splendour, 
 as his boyhood had seen them, relieving the 
 gloom of the cloister court, and contrasting the 
 spleen and the rudeness of the Saxon tempera- 
 ment, had dazzled his fancy and half Normanized 
 his mind. A proud and happy boy was he, to go 
 as hostage for the faith, and representative of the 
 rank, of his mighty kinsmen ; and step into man- 
 hood in the eyes of the dames of Rouen.
 
 HAROLD. 253 
 
 By Wolnoth's side stood his young sister, 
 Thyra, a mere infant ; and her innocent sympathy 
 with her brother's pleasure in gaud and toy sad- 
 dened Githa yet more. 
 
 " O my son ! " said the troubled mother, 
 " why, of all my children have they chosen tliee ? 
 Harold is wise against danger, and Tostig is fierce 
 against foes, and Gurth is too loving to wake 
 hate in the sternest, and from the mirth of sunny 
 Leofwine sorrow glints aside, as the shaft from 
 the sheen of a shield. But thou, thou, O beloved ! 
 cursed be the king that chose thee, and cruel was 
 the father that forgot the light of the mother's eyes!" 
 "Tut, mother the dearest," said Wolnoth, 
 pausing from the contemplation of a silk robe, all 
 covered with broidered peacocks, which had been 
 sent him as a gift from his sister the Queen, and 
 wrought with her own fair hands ; for a notable 
 needlewoman, despite her sage lere, was the wife 
 of the Saint King, as sorrowful women mostly are, 
 " Tut ! the bird must leave the nest when the 
 wings are fledged. Harold the eagle, Tostig the 
 kite, Gurth the ring-dove, and Leofwine the stare. 
 See, my wings are the richest of all, mother
 
 254 HAROLD. 
 
 and bright is the sun in which thy peacock shall 
 spread his pranked plumes." 
 
 Then, observing that his liveliness provoked no 
 smile from his mother, he approached, and said 
 more seriously, 
 
 " Bethink thee, mother mine. No other choice 
 was left to king or to father. Harold, and Tostig, 
 and Leofwine, have their lordships and offices. 
 Their posts are fixed, and they stand as the 
 columns of our house. And Gurth is so young, 
 and so Saxish, and so the shadow of Harold, that 
 his hate to the Norman is a bye-word already 
 among our youths ; for hate is the more marked 
 in a temper of love, as the blue of this border 
 seems black against the white of the woof. But 
 /, the good king knows that I shall be welcome, 
 for the Norman knights love Wolnoth, and I have 
 spent hours by the knees of Montgommeri and 
 Grantmesnil, listening to the feats of Rolfganger, 
 and playing with their gold chains of knighthood. 
 And the stout Count himself shall knight me, and 
 I shall come back with the spurs of gold which thy 
 ancestors, the brave Kings of Norway and Dane- 
 land, wore ere knighthood was known. Come,
 
 HAROLD. 255 
 
 kiss me, my mother, and come see the brave 
 falcons Harold has sent me ; true Welch !" 
 
 Githa rested her face on her son's shoulder, and 
 her tears blinded her. The door opened gently, 
 and Harold entered; and with the Earl, a pale 
 dark haired boy, Haco, the son of Sweyn. 
 
 But Githa, absorbed in her darling Wolnoth, 
 scarce saw the grandchild reared afar from her 
 knees, and hurried at once to Harold. In his pre- 
 sence she felt comfort and safety; for Wolnoth 
 leant on her heart, and her heart leant on Harold. 
 
 " O son, son !" she cried, " firmest of hand, surest 
 of faith, and wisest of brain, in the house of God- 
 win, tell me that he yonder, he thy young brother, 
 risks no danger in the halls of the Normans ! " 
 
 " Not more than in these, mother," answered 
 Harold, soothing her, with caressing lip and gentle 
 tone. " Fierce and ruthlesss, men say, is William 
 the Duke against foes with their swords in their 
 hands, but debonnair and mild to the gentle,* 
 frank host and kind lord. And these Normans 
 
 * So Kobert of Gloucester says pithily of "\VilHam, "Kyng 
 Wylliam was to mild men debonnere ynou." HEARNE, v. ii. 
 p. 309.
 
 2. 5 6 HAROLD. 
 
 have a code of their own, more grave than all 
 morals, more binding than even their fanatic 
 religion. Thou knowest it well, mother, for it 
 comes from thy race of the North, and this code 
 of honour, they call it, makes Wolnoth's head as 
 sacred as the relics of a saint set in zinimes. 
 Ask only, my brother, when thou comest in sight 
 of the Norman Duke, ask only 'the kiss of peace,' 
 and, that kiss on thy brow, thou wilt sleep more 
 safely than if all the banners of England waved 
 over thy couch. "* 
 
 " -But how long shall the exile be ? " asked 
 Githa, comforted. 
 
 Harold's brow fell, 
 
 " Mother, not even to cheer thee will I deceive. 
 The time of the hostageship rests with the King 
 and the Duke. As long as the one affects fear 
 from the race of Godwin, as long as the other 
 
 * This kiss of peace was held singularly sacred by the Nor- 
 mans, and all the more knightly races of the continent. Even 
 the craftiest dissimulator, designing fraud, and stratagem, 
 and murder to a foe, would not, to gain his ends, betray the 
 pledge of the kiss of peace. When Henry II. consented to meet 
 Becket after his return from Home, and promised to remedy all 
 of which his prelate complained, he struck prophetic dismay into 
 Bccket's heart by evading the kiss of peace.
 
 HAROLD. 257 
 
 feigns care for such priests or such knights as 
 were not banished from the realm, being not 
 courtiers, but scattered wide and far in convent 
 and homestead, so long will Wolnoth and Haco 
 be guests in the Norman halls." 
 
 Githa wrung her hands. 
 
 " But comfort, my mother ; Wolnoth is young, 
 his eye is keen, and his spirit prompt and 
 quick. He will mark these Norman captains, 
 he -will learn their strength and their weakness, 
 their manner of war, and he will come back, not 
 as Edward the Kins; came, a lover of things uri- 
 
 O * O 
 
 Saxon, but able to warn and to guide us against 
 the plots of the camp-court, which threatens 
 more, year- by year, the peace of the world. And 
 he will see there arts we may worthily borrow ; 
 not the cut of a tunic, and the fold of a gonna, 
 but the arts of men who found states and build 
 nations. William the Duke is splendid and wise ; 
 merchants tell us how crafts thrive under his 
 iron hand, and warmen say that his forts are con- 
 structed with skill, and his battle-schemes planned 
 as the mason plans key-stone and arch, with 
 weight portioned out to the prop, and the force of
 
 258 HAROLD. 
 
 the hand made tenfold by the science of the brain- 
 So that the boy will return to us a man round 
 and complete, a teacher of greybeards, and the 
 sage of his kin ; fit for earldom and rule, fit for 
 glory and England. Grieve not, daughter of 
 the Dane kings, that thy son, the best loved, 
 hath nobler school and wider field than his 
 brothers." 
 
 This appeal touched the proud heart of the 
 niece of Canute the Great, and she almost 
 forgot the grief of her love in the hope of her 
 ambition. 
 
 She dried her tears and smiled upon "Wolnoth, 
 and already, in the dreams of a mother's vanity, 
 saw him great as Godwin in council, and pros- 
 perous as Harold in the field. Nor, half Norman 
 as he was, did the young man seem insensible of 
 the manly and elevated patriotism of his brother's 
 hinted lessons, though he felt they implied re- 
 proof. He came to the Earl, whose arm was round 
 his mother, and said with a frank heartiness 
 not usual to a nature somewhat frivolous and 
 irresolute, 
 
 " Harold, thy tongue could kindle stones into
 
 HAROLD. 259 
 
 men, and warm those men into Saxons. Thy 
 "\Volnoth shall not hang his head with shame 
 when he comes back to our merrie land with 
 shaven locks and spurs of gold. For if thou 
 doubtest his race from his look, thou shalt put thy 
 right hand on his heart, and feel England beat 
 there in every pulse." 
 
 " Brave words, and well spoken," cried the Earl, 
 and he placed his hand on the boy's head as in 
 benison. 
 
 Till then, Haco had stood apart, conversing 
 with the infant Thyra, whom his dark, mournful 
 face awed and yet touched, for she nestled close 
 to him, and put her little hand in his ; but now, 
 inspired no less than his cousin by Harold's 
 noble speech, he came proudly forward by 
 Wolnoth's side, and said, 
 
 " I, too, am English, and I have the name of 
 Englishman to redeem." 
 
 Ere Harold could reply, Githa exclaimed, 
 
 " Leave there thy right hand on my child's 
 head, and say, simply, 'By my troth and my 
 plight, if the Duke detain Wolnoth, son of 
 Githa, against just plea, and King's assent to
 
 260 HAROLD. 
 
 his return, I, Harold, will, failing letter and 
 nuncius, cross the seas, to restore the child to the 
 mother.' " 
 
 Harold hesitated. 
 
 A sharp cry of reproach that went to his heart 
 broke from Githa's lips. 
 
 " Ah ! cold and self-heeding, wilt thou send 
 him to bear a peril from which thou shrinkest 
 thyself?" 
 
 " By ray troth and my plight, then," said the 
 Earl, "if, fair time elapsed, peace in England, 
 without plea of justice, and against my king's fiat, 
 Duke William of Normandy detain the hostages, 
 thy son, and this dear boy, more sacred and more 
 dear to me for his father's woes, I will cross the 
 seas, to restore the child to the mother, the father- 
 less to his fatherland. So help me, all-seeing One, 
 Amen and Amen ! "
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 WE have seen, in an earlier part of this record, 
 that Harold possessed, amongst his numerous and 
 more stately possessions, a house, not far from the 
 old Roman dwelling-place of Hilda. And in 
 this residence he now (save when with the king) 
 made his chief abode. He gave as the reasons 
 for his selection, the charm it took, in his eyes, 
 from that signal mark of affection which his ceorls 
 had rendered him, in purchasing the house and 
 tilling the ground in his absence ; and more espe- 
 cially the convenience of its vicinity to the new 
 palace at Westminster ; for by Edward's special 
 desire, while the other brothers repaired to their 
 different domains, Harold remained near his royal 
 person. To use the words of the great Norwe- 
 gian chronicler, "Harold was always with the
 
 262 HAROLD. 
 
 Court itself, and nearest to the king in all service." 
 " The king loved him very much, and kept him as 
 his own son, for he had no children." * This attend- 
 ance on Edward was naturally most close at the 
 restoration to power of the Earl's family. For 
 Harold, mild and conciliating, was, like Aired, 
 a great peacemaker, and Edward had never cause 
 to complain of him, as he believed he had of the 
 rest of that haughty house. But the true spell 
 which made dear to Harold the rude building of 
 timber, with its doors open all day to his lithsmen, 
 when with a light heart he escaped from the 
 halls of Westminster, was the fair face of Edith 
 his neighbour. The impression which this young 
 girl had made upon Harold seemed to par- 
 take of the strength of a fatality. For Harold 
 had loved her before the marvellous beauty of her 
 womanhood began ; and, occupied from his earliest 
 youth in grave and earnest affairs, his heart had 
 never been frittered away on the mean and frivo- 
 lous affections of the idle. Now, in that compa- 
 rative leisure of his stormy life, he was naturally 
 
 * SNORRO STURLESON'S ffeimskrinyla. Laing's Translation, 
 p. 7577.
 
 HAROLD. 263 
 
 most open to the influence of a charm more potent 
 than all the glamoury of Hilda. 
 
 The autumn sun shone through the golden 
 glades of the forest-land, when Edith sate alone 
 on the knoll that faced forest-land and road, and 
 watched afar. 
 
 And the birds sung cheerily ; but that was not 
 the sound for which Edith listened : and the 
 squirrel darted from tree to tree on the sward 
 beyond ; but not to see the games of the squirrel 
 sate Edith by the grave of the Teuton. By-and- 
 by came the cry of the dogs, and the tall gre- 
 hound* of Wales emerged from the bosky dells. 
 Then Edith's heart heaved, and her eyes 
 brightened. And now, with his hawk on his 
 wrist, and his spear f in his hand, came, through 
 the yellowing boughs, Harold the Earl. 
 
 And well may ye ween, that his heart beat as 
 loud and his eye shone as bright, as Edith's, when 
 he saw who had watched for his footsteps on the 
 
 * The gre-hound was so called from hunting the gre or 
 badger. 
 
 f The spear and the hawk were as the badges of Saxon no- 
 bility ; and a thegn was seldom seen abroad without the one on 
 his left wrist, the other in his right-hand. 
 
 ' - 
 
 I
 
 204 HAROLD. 
 
 sepulchral knoll ; Love, forgetful of the presence 
 of Death ; so has it ever been, so ever shall it be ! 
 He hastened his stride, and bounded up the gentle 
 hillock, and his dogs, with a joyous bark, came 
 round the knees of Edith. Then Harold shook 
 the bird from his wrist, and it fell, with its light 
 wing, on the altar-stone of Thor. 
 
 " Thou art late, but thou art welcome, Harold 
 my kinsman," said Edith, simply, as she bent her 
 face over the hounds, whose gaunt heads she 
 caressed. 
 
 " Call me not kinsman," said Harold, shrinking, 
 and with a dark cloud on his broad brow. 
 
 " And why, Harold ? " 
 
 "Oh, Edith, why?" murmured Harold; and 
 his thought added, "she knows not, poor child, 
 that in that mockery of kinship the Church sets 
 its ban on our bridals." 
 
 He turned, and chid his dogs fiercely as they 
 gambolled in rough glee round their fair friend. 
 
 The hounds crouched at the feet of Edith; and 
 Edith looked in mild wonder at the troubled face 
 of the Earl. 
 
 " Thine eyes rebuke me, Edith, more than my
 
 HAROLD. 265 
 
 words the hounds ! " said Harold, gently. " But 
 there is quick blood in my veins ; and the mind 
 must be calm when it would control the humour. 
 Calm was my mind, sweet Edith, in the old time, 
 when thou wert an infant on my knee, and 
 wreathing, with these rude hands, flower-chains 
 for thy neck like the swan's down, I said ' The 
 flowers fade, but the chain lasts when love 
 weaves it.' " 
 
 Edith again bent her face over the crouching 
 hounds. Harold gazed on her with mournful 
 fondness: and the bird still sung, and the squirrel 
 swung himself again from bough to bough. Edith 
 spoke first : 
 
 " My godmother, thy sister, hath sent for me, 
 Harold, and I am to go to the court to-morrow. 
 Shalt thou be there?" 
 
 " Surely," said Harold, in an anxious voice, 
 " surely, I will be there ! So my sister hath sent 
 for thee: wittest thou wherefore?" 
 
 Edith grew very pale, and her tone trembled as 
 she answered 
 
 " Well-a-day, yes." 
 
 " It is as I feared, then!" exclaimed Harold, in 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 266 HAROLD. 
 
 great agitation ; " and my sister, whom these 
 monks have demented, leagues herself with the 
 King against the law of the wide welkin and the 
 
 O O 
 
 grand religion of the human heart. Oh! "con- 
 tinued the Earl, kindling into an enthusiasm, rare 
 to his even moods, but wrung as much from his 
 broad sense as from his strong affection, " when 
 I compare the Saxon of our land and day, all 
 enervated and decrepit by priestly superstition, with 
 his forefathers in the first Christian era, yielding 
 to the religion they adopted in its simple truths, 
 but not to that rot of social happiness and free 
 manhood which this cold and lifeless monachism 
 making virtue the absence of human ties spreads 
 around which the great Bede,* though himself a 
 monk, vainly but bitterly denounced ; yea, verily, 
 when I see the Saxon already the theowe of the 
 priest, I shudder to ask how long he will be 
 folk-free of the tyrant." 
 
 He paused, breathed hard, and seizing, almost 
 sternly, the girl's trembling arm, he resumed, 
 between his set teeth, " So they would have 
 
 * BED. Epist. ad Egbert.
 
 HAROLD. 267 
 
 thee be a nun? Thou wilt not, thou durst not, 
 thy heart would perjure thy vows!" 
 
 " Ah, Harold ! " answered Edith, moved out of 
 all bashfulness by his emotion and her own terror 
 of the convent, and answering, if with the love of a 
 woman, still with all the unconsciousness of a child: 
 " Better, oh better the grate of the body than 
 that of the heart ! In the grave I could still live 
 for those I love ; behind the Grate, love itself must 
 be dead. Yes, thou pitiest me, Harold ; thy sister, 
 the Queen, is gentle and kind ; I will fling myself 
 at her feet, and say * Youth is fond, and the 
 world is fair: let me live my youth, and bless 
 God in the world that he saw was good ! ' " 
 
 " My own, own dear Edith ! " exclaimed Harold, 
 overjoyed. " Say this. Be firm; they cannot, 
 and they dare not force thee ! The law cannot 
 wrench thee against thy will from the ward of thy 
 guardian Hilda ; and, where the law is, there 
 Harold at least is strong, and there, at least, our 
 kinship, if my bane, is thy blessing." 
 
 " Why, Harold, sayest thou that our kin- 
 ship is thy bane ? It is so sweet to me to whisper 
 to myself, ' Harold is of thy kith, though distant ; 
 N 2
 
 268 HAROLD. 
 
 and it is natural to thee to have pride in his fame, 
 and joy in his presence ! ' Why is that sweetness 
 to me, to thee so bitter?" 
 
 " Because," answered Harold, dropping the 
 hand he had clasped, and folding his arms in deep 
 dejection, " because but for that I should say 
 ' Edith, I love thee more than a brother : Edith, 
 be Harold's wife!' And were I to say it, and 
 were we to wed, all the priests of the Saxons 
 would lift up their hands in horror, and curse our 
 nuptials; and I should be the bann'd of that 
 spectre, the Church ; and my House would shake 
 to its foundations ; and my father, and my brothers, 
 and the thegns and the proceres, and the abbots 
 and prelates, whose aid makes our force, would 
 gather round me with threats and with prayers, 
 that I might put thee aside. And mighty as I am 
 now, so mighty once was Sweyn my brother; 
 and outlaw as Sweyn is now, might Harold be, 
 and outlaw if Harold were, what breast so broad 
 as his could fill up the gap left in the defence of 
 England ? And the passions that I curb, as a 
 rider his steed, might break their rein; and, 
 strong in justice, and child of Nature, I might
 
 HAROLD. 269 
 
 come, with banner and mail, against Church, and 
 House, and Fatherland; and the blood of my 
 countrymen might be poured like water: and, 
 therefore, slave to the lying thraldom he despises, 
 Harold dare not say to the maid of his love 
 ' Give me thy right hand, and be my bride ! ' " 
 
 Edith had listened in bewilderment and despair, 
 her eyes fixed on his, and her face locked and rigid, 
 as if turned to stone. But when he had ceased, 
 and, moving some steps away, turned aside his 
 manly countenance, that Edith might not perceive 
 its anguish, the noble and sublime spirit of that sex 
 which ever, when lowliest, most comprehends the 
 lofty, rose superior both to love and to grief; and, 
 rising, she advanced, and placing her slight hand 
 on his stalwart shoulder, she said, half in pity half 
 in reverence, 
 
 " Never before, O Harold, did I feel so proud 
 of thee ; for Edith could not love thee as she doth, 
 and will till the grave clasp her, if thou didst not 
 love England more than Edith. Harold, till this 
 hour I was a child, and I knew not my own heart : 
 I look now into that heart, and I see that I am 
 woman. Harold, of the cloister I have now no fear :
 
 270 HAROLD. 
 
 and all life does not shrink no, it enlarges, and 
 it soars into one desire to be worthy to pray for 
 thee !" 
 
 "Maid, maid!" exclaimed Harold, abruptly, 
 and pale as the dead, " do not say thou hast no 
 fear of the cloister. I adjure, I command thee, 
 build not up between us that dismal everlasting 
 wall. While thou art free Hope yet survives 
 a phantom, haply, but Hope still." 
 
 " As thou wilt, I will," said Edith, hum- 
 bly : " order my fate so as pleases thee the 
 best." 
 
 Then, not daring to trust herself longer, for she 
 felt the tears rushing to her eyes, she turned away 
 hastily, and left him alone beside the altar -stone 
 and the tomb.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE next day, as Harold was entering the pa- 
 lace of Westminster, with intent to seek the King's 
 lady, his father met him in one of the corridors, 
 and taking him gravely by the hand, said, 
 
 " My son, I have much on my mind regarding 
 thee and our House ; come with me. 
 
 " Nay," said the Earl, " by your leave let it be 
 later. For I have it on hand to see my sister, 
 ere confessor, or monk, or schoolman, claim her 
 hours ! " 
 
 " Not so, Harold," said the Earl, briefly. " My 
 daughter is now in her oratory, and we shall have 
 time enow to treat of things mundane ere she 
 is free to receive thee, and to preach to thee of 
 things ghostly, the last miracle at St. Alban's, or 
 the last dream of the King, who would be a great
 
 272 HAROLD. 
 
 man and a stirring, if as restless when awake as he 
 is in his sleep. Come." 
 
 Harold, in that filial obedience which belonged, 
 as of course, to his antique cast of character, 
 made no farther effort to escape, but with a 
 sigh followed Godwin into one of the contiguous 
 chambers. 
 
 " Harold," then said Earl Godwin, after closing 
 the door carefully, " thou must not let the King 
 keep thee longer in dalliance and idleness : thine 
 earldom needs thee without delay. Thou knowest 
 that these East Angles, as we Saxons still call 
 them, are in truth mostly Danes and Norsemen ; a 
 people jealous, and fierce, and free, and more akin 
 to the Normans than to the Saxons. My whole 
 power in England hath been founded, not less on 
 my common birth with the freefolk of Wessex 
 Saxons like myself, and therefore easy for me, a 
 Saxon, to conciliate and control than on the hold 
 I have ever sought to establish, whether by arms 
 or by arts, over the Danes in the realm. And I tell 
 and I warn thee, Harold, as the natural heir of my 
 greatness, that he who cannot command the stout 
 hearts of the Anglo-Danes, will never maintain
 
 HAROLD. 273 
 
 the race of Godwin in the post they have won 
 in the vanguard of Saxon England." 
 
 " This I wot well, my father," answered Harold ; 
 " and I see with joy, that while those descendants 
 of heroes and freemen are blended indissolubly 
 with the meeker Saxon, their freer laws and har- 
 dier manners are gradually supplanting, or rather 
 regenerating, our own." 
 
 Godwin smiled approvingly on his son, and then 
 his brow becoming serious, and the dark pupil of 
 his blue eye dilating, he resumed : 
 
 " This is well, my son ; and hast thou thought 
 also, that while thou art loitering in these galleries, 
 amidst the ghosts of men in monk cowls, Siward 
 is shadowing our House with his glory, and all 
 north the Humber rings with his name? Hast 
 thou thought that all Mercia is in the hands of 
 Leofric our rival, and that Algar his son, who ruled 
 Wessex in my absence, left there a name so be- 
 loved, that had I stayed a year longer, the cry had 
 been ' Algar' not * Godwin ?' for so is the multi- 
 tude ever ! Now aid me, Harold, for my soul is 
 troubled, and I cannot work alone ; and though I 
 say nought to others, my heart received a death- 
 
 N3
 
 274 HAROLD. 
 
 blow when tears fell from its blood- springs on 
 the brow of Sweyn, my first-born." The old man 
 paused, and his lip quivered. 
 
 " Thou, thou alone, Harold, noble boy, thou 
 alone didst stand by his side in the hall ; alone, 
 alone, and I bless'd thee in that hour over all the 
 rest of my sons. "Well, well ! now to earth again. 
 Aid me, Harold. I open to thee my web : com- 
 plete the woof when this hand is cold. The new 
 tree that stands alone in the plain, is soon nipped 
 by the winter; fenced round with the forest, its 
 youth takes shelter from its fellows.* So is it as 
 with a House newly founded ; it must win strength 
 from the allies that it sets round its slender stem. 
 What had been Godwin, son of Wolnoth, had he 
 not married into the kingly house of great Canute? 
 It is this that gives my sons now the right to the 
 loyal love of the Danes. The throne passed from 
 Canute and his race, and the Saxons again had 
 their hour ; and I gave, as Jeptha gave his 
 daughter, my blooming Edith, to the cold bed 
 of the Saxon King. Had sons sprung from 
 that union, the grandson of Godwin, royal alike 
 * TEGNER'S Frithiof.
 
 HAROLD. 275 
 
 from Saxon and Dane, would reign on the throne 
 of the isle. Fate ordered otherwise, and the spider 
 must weave web anew. Thy brother, Tostig, has 
 added more splendour than solid strength to our 
 line, in his marriage with the daughter of Bald- 
 win the Count. The foreigner helps us little in 
 England. Thou, O Harold, must bring new props 
 to the House. I would rather see thee wed to the 
 child of one of our great rivals, than to the daugh- 
 ter of kaisar, or outland king. Siward hath no 
 daughter undisposed of. Algar, son of Leofric, 
 hath a daughter fair as the fairest ; make her thy 
 bride, that Algar may cease to be a foe. This 
 alliance will render Mercia, in truth, subject to 
 our principalities, since the stronger must quell 
 the weaker. It doth more. Algar himself has 
 married into the royalty of Wales.* Thou wilt 
 win all those fierce tribes to thy side. Their forces 
 will gain thee the marches, now held so feebly 
 under Rolf the Norman, and in case of brief 
 
 * Some of the chroniclers say that he married the daughter 
 of Gryffyth, the king of North Wales, but Gryffyth certainly 
 married Algar's daughter, and that double alliance could not 
 have been permitted. It was probably, therefore, some more 
 distant kinswoman of Gryffyth's that was united to Algar.
 
 276 HAROLD. 
 
 reverse, or sharp danger, their mountains will 
 give refuge from all foes. This day, greeting 
 Algar, he told me he meditated bestowing his 
 daughter on Gryffyth, the rebel under-King of 
 North Wales. Therefore, 1 ' continued the old 
 Earl, with a smile, "thou must speak in time, 
 and win and woo in the same breath. No hard 
 task, methinks, for Harold of the golden tongue." 
 
 " Sir, and father," replied the young Earl, whom 
 the long speech addressed to him had prepared for 
 its close, and whose habitual self-control saved 
 him from disclosing his emotion, "I thank you, 
 duteously, for your care for my future, and 
 hope to profit by your wisdom. I will ask the 
 King's leave to go to my East Anglians, and hold 
 there a folkmuth, administer justice, redress griev- 
 ances, and make thegn and ceorl content with 
 Harold, their Earl. But vain is peace in the 
 realm, if there is strife in the house. And Aldyth, 
 the daughter of Algar, cannot be house- wife to me." 
 
 " Why ?" asked the old Earl, calmly, and sur- 
 veying his son's face, with those eyes so clear, 
 yet so unfathomable. 
 
 " Because, though I grant her fair, she pleases
 
 HAROLD. 277 
 
 not my fancy, nor would give warmth to my 
 hearth. Because, as thou knowest well, Algar 
 and I have ever been opposed, both in camp and 
 in council ; and I am not the man who can sell 
 my love., though I may stifle my anger. No 
 bride wants Earl Harold to bring spearmen to 
 his back at his need; and his lordships he will 
 guard with the shield of a man, not the spindle of 
 a woman." 
 
 " Said in spite and in error," replied the old 
 Earl, coolly. " Small pain had it given thee 
 to forgive Algar old quarrels, and clasp his hand 
 as a father-in-law if thou hadst had for his 
 daughter what the great are forbidden to regard 
 save as a folly. 
 
 " Is love a folly, my father ?" 
 
 " Surely, yes," said the Earl, with some sad- 
 ness " surely, yes, for those who know that life 
 is made up of business and care, spun out in long 
 years, not counted by the joys of an hour. Surely, 
 yes ; thinkest thou that I loved my first wife, the 
 proud sister of Canute, or that Edith, thy sister, 
 loved Edward, when he placed the crown on her 
 head?"
 
 278 HAROLD. 
 
 " My father, in Edith, my sister, our House 
 hath sacrificed enow to selfish power." 
 
 " I grant it, to selfish power," answered the 
 eloquent old man, " but not enow for England's 
 safety. Look to it, Harold ; thy years, and thy 
 fame, and thy state, place thee free from my con- 
 trol as a father, but not till thou sleepest in thy 
 cerements art thou free from that father thy 
 land ! Ponder it in thine own wise mind wiser 
 already than that which speaks to it under the 
 hood of grey hairs. Ponder it, and ask thyself 
 if thy power, when I am dead, is not necessary 
 to the weal of England? and if aught that thy 
 schemes can suggest would so strengthen that 
 power, as to find in the heart of the kingdom a 
 host of friends like the Mercians; or if there 
 could be a trouble and a bar to thy greatness, a 
 wall in thy path, or a thorn in thy side, like the 
 hate or the jealousy of Algar, son of Leofric ?" 
 
 Thus addressed, Harold's face, before serene 
 and calm, grew overcast; and he felt the force 
 of his father's words when appealing to his reason 
 not to his affections. The old man saw the ad- 
 vantage he had gained, and prudently forbore to
 
 HAROLD. 279 
 
 press it. Rising, he drew round him his sweeping 
 gonna lined with furs, and only when he reached 
 the door, he added : 
 
 " The old see afar ; they stand on the height 
 of experience, as a warder on the crown of a 
 tower ; and I tell, thee, Harold, that if thou 
 lett'st slip this golden occasion, years hence long 
 and many thou wilt rue the loss of the hour. 
 And that, unless Mercia, as the centre of the 
 kingdom, be reconciled to thy power, thou wilt 
 stand high indeed but on the shelf of a pre- 
 cipice. And if, as I suspect, thou lovest some 
 other, who now clouds thy perception, and will 
 then check thy ambition, thou wilt break her 
 heart with thy desertion, or gnaw thine own with 
 regret. For love dies in possession ambition 
 has no fruition, and so lives for ever." 
 
 " That ambition is not mine, my father," 
 exclaimed Harold, earnestly ; " I have not thy 
 love of power, glorious in thee, even in its ex- 
 tremes. I have not thy " 
 
 " Seventy years !" interrupted the old man, con- 
 cluding the sentence. " At seventy all men who 
 have been great will speak as I do ; yet all will have
 
 280 HAROLD. 
 
 known love. Thou not ambitious, Harold ! Thou 
 knowest not thyself, nor knowest thou yet what 
 ambition is. That which I see far before me as 
 thy natural prize, I dare not, or I will not say. 
 When time sets that prize within reach of thy 
 spear's point, say then, ' I am not ambitious !' 
 Ponder and decide." 
 
 And Harold pondered long, and decided not 
 as Godwin could have wished. For he had not 
 the seventy years of his father, and the prize lay 
 yet in the womb of the mountains ; though the 
 dwarf and the gnome were already fashioning the 
 ore to the shape of a crown.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 WHILE Harold mused over his father's words, 
 Edith, seated on a low stool beside the Lady of 
 England, listened with earnest but mournful 
 reverence to her royal namesake. 
 
 The Queen's* closet opened, like the King's, on 
 one hand to an oratory, on the other to a spacious 
 anteroom ; the lower part of the walls was co- 
 vered with arras, leaving space for a niche that 
 contained an image of the Virgin. Near the door- 
 way to the oratory, was the stoupe or aspersoriurn 
 for holy -water ; and in various cysts and crypts, in 
 either room, were caskets containing the relics of 
 saints. The purple light from the stained glass of 
 
 * The title of Queen is employed in these pages, as one 
 which our historians have unhesitatingly given to the consorts 
 of our Saxon kings ; hut the usual and correct designation 
 of Edward's royal wife, in her own time, would he, Edith the 
 Lady.
 
 282 HAROLD. 
 
 a high narrow window, shaped in the Saxon 
 arch, streamed rich and full over the Queen's bended 
 head like a glory, and tinged her pale cheek, as with 
 a maiden blush ; and she might have furnished a 
 sweet model for early artist, in his dreams of 
 St. Mary the Mother, not when, young and blest, 
 she held the divine Infant in her arms, but when 
 sorrow had reached even the immaculate bosom, 
 and the stone had been rolled over the Holy 
 Sepulchre. For beautiful the face still was, and 
 mild beyond all words ; but, beyond all words also, 
 sad in its tender resignation. 
 
 And thus said the Queen to her godchild. 
 
 <c Why dost thou hesitate and turn away ? 
 Thinkest thou, poor child, in thine ignorance of 
 life, that the world ever can give thee a bliss 
 greater than the calm of the cloister? Pause, 
 and ask thyself, young as thou art, if all the true 
 happiness thou hast known, is not bounded to hope. 
 As long as thou hopest, thou art happy." 
 
 Edith sighed deeply, and moved her young head 
 in involuntary acquiescence. 
 
 " And what is life to the nun, but hope ! In 
 that hope, she knows not the present, she lives in
 
 HAROLD. 283 
 
 the future; she hears ever singing the chorus of 
 the angels, as St. Dunstan heard them sing at the 
 birth of Edgar.* That hope unfolds to her the 
 heiligthum of the future. On earth her body, in 
 heaven her soul ! " 
 
 " And her heart, O Lady of England ? " cried 
 Edith, with a sharp pang." 
 
 The Queen paused a moment, and laid her pale 
 hand kindly on Edith's bosom. 
 
 " Not beating, child, as thine does now, with 
 vain thoughts, and worldly desires; but calm, 
 calm as mine. It is in our power," resumed the 
 Queen, after a second pause, " it is in our power 
 to make the life within us all soul; so that the 
 heart is not, or is felt not ; so that grief and joy have 
 no power over us : so that we look tranquil on the 
 stormy earth, as yon image of the Virgin, whom 
 we make our example, looks from the silent niche. 
 Listen, my godchild and darling. 
 
 " I have known human state, and human debase- 
 ment. In these halls I woke Lady of England, 
 and, ere sunset, my lord banished me, without one 
 mark of honour, without one word of comfort, to 
 * ETHEL, de Gen. Rey. Ang.
 
 284 HAROLD. 
 
 the convent of Wherwell ; my father, my mother, 
 my kin, all in exile ; and my tears falling fast for 
 them, but not on a husband's bosom." 
 
 " Ah then, noble Edith," said the girl, colouring 
 with anger at the remembered wrong for her 
 Queen, " ah then, surely at least, thy heart made 
 itself heard." 
 
 " Heard, yea verily," said the Queen, looking 
 up, and pressing her hands ; " heard, but the soul 
 rebuked it. And the soul said, ' Blessed are they 
 that mourn ; ' and I rejoiced at the new trial which 
 brought me nearer to Him who chastens those He 
 loves." 
 
 " But thy banished kin the valiant, the wise, 
 they who placed the lord on the throne ?" 
 
 "Was it no comfort," answered the Queen 
 simply, "to think that in the House of God my 
 prayers for them would be more accepted than in 
 the hall of kings? Yes, my child, I have known 
 the world's honour, and the world's disgrace, and I 
 have schooled my heart to be calm in both." 
 
 "Ah, thou art above human strength, Queen 
 and Saint," exclaimed Edith ; " and I have heard it 
 said of thee, that as thou art now, thou wert from
 
 HAROLD. 285 
 
 thine earliest years;* ever the sweet, the calm, 
 the holy ever less on earth than in heaven." 
 
 Something there was in the Queen's eyes, as 
 she raised them towards Edith at this burst of en- 
 thusiasm, that gave for a moment, to a face other- 
 wise so dissimilar, the likeness to her father ; 
 something, in that large pupil, of the impenetrable 
 unrevealing depth of a nature close and secret in 
 self control. And a more acute observer than 
 Edith might long have been perplexed and haunted 
 ith that look, wondering, if indeed, under the 
 divine and spiritual composure, lurked the mystery 
 of human passion. 
 
 "My child," said the Queen, with the faintest 
 smile upon her lips, and drawing Edith towards her, 
 "there are moments, when all that breathe the 
 breath of life feel, or have felt, alike. In my vain 
 youth, I read, I mused, I pondered, but over 
 worldly lore. And what men called the sanctity 
 of virtue, was perhaps but the silence of thought. 
 Now I have put aside those early and childish 
 dreams and shadows, remembering them not, 
 save (here the smile grew more pronounced,) 
 * AILKED, De Vit. Edward. Confess.
 
 286 HAROLD. 
 
 to puzzle some poor schoolboy with the knots 
 and riddles of the sharp grammarian.* But not 
 to speak of myself have I sent for thee. Edith, 
 again and again, solemnly and sincerely, I pray 
 thee to obey the wish of my lord the King. 
 And now, while yet in all the bloom of thought, 
 as of youth, while thou hast no memory save the 
 child's, enter on the Realm of Peace." 
 
 " I cannot, I dare not, I cannot ah, ask me 
 not," said poor Edith, covering her face with her 
 hands. 
 
 Those hands the Queen gently withdrew ; and 
 looking steadfastly in the changeful and half 
 averted face, she said mournfully, "Is it so, my 
 godchild? and is thy heart set on the hopes of 
 earth thy dreams on the love of man ?" 
 
 " Nay," answered Edith, equivocating ; " but I 
 have promised not to take the veil." 
 
 "Promised to Hilda? 1 ' 
 
 " Hilda," exclaimed Edith readily, " would 
 never consent to it. Thou knowest her strong 
 nature, her distaste to to 
 
 " The laws of our holy Church I do; and for that 
 * INOULFUS.
 
 HAROLD. 287 
 
 reason it is, mainly, that I join with the King in 
 seeking to abstract thee from her influence. But 
 it is not Hilda that thou hast promised ?" 
 
 Edith hung her head. 
 
 " Is it to woman, or to man ? " 
 
 Before Edith could answer, the door from the 
 anteroom opened, gently, but without the usual 
 ceremony, and Harold entered. His quick quiet 
 eye embraced both forms, and curbed Edith's 
 young impulse, which made her start from her 
 seat, and advance joyously towards him as a pro- 
 tector. 
 
 " Fair day to thee, my sister," said the Earl, 
 advancing; "and pardon, if I break thus rudely 
 on thy leisure ; for few are the moments when 
 beggar and Benedictine leave thee free to receive 
 thy brother." 
 
 " Dost thou reproach me, Harold ? " 
 
 " No, Heaven forfend ! " replied the Earl, cor- 
 dially, and with a look at once of pity and admira- 
 tion ; " for thou art one of the few, in this court of 
 simulators, sincere and true ; and it pleases thee to 
 serve the Divine Power in thy way, as it pleases 
 me to serve Him in mine."
 
 288 HAROLD. 
 
 " Thine, Harold ? " said the Queen, shaking her 
 head, but with a look of some human pride and 
 fondness in her fair face. 
 
 " Mine ; as I learned it from thee when I was 
 thy pupil, Edith ; when to those studies in which 
 thou didst precede me, thou first didst lure me 
 from sport and pastime ; and from thee I learned 
 to glow over the deeds of Greek and Roman, and 
 say, ' They lived and died as men ; like them may 
 I live and die!'" 
 
 " Oh, true too true ! " said the Queen, with a 
 sigh ; " and I am to blame grievously that I did so 
 pervert to earth a mind that might otherwise have 
 learned holier examples ; nay, smile not with that 
 haughty lip, my brother ; for believe me yea, be- 
 lieve me there is more true valour in the life of 
 one patient martyr than in the victories of Caesar, 
 or even the defeat of Brutus." 
 
 " It may be so," replied the Earl, " but out of 
 the same oak we carve the spear and the cross ; 
 and those not worthy to hold the one, may yet not 
 guiltily wield the other. Each to his path of life 
 and mine is chosen." Then, changing his voice, 
 with some abruptness, he said, "But what hast
 
 HAROLD. 289 
 
 them been saying to thy fair godchild, that her 
 cheek is pale, and her eyelids seem so heavy? 
 Edith, Edith, my sister, beware how thou shapest 
 the lot of the martyr without the peace of the 
 saint. Had Algive the nun been wedded to 
 Sweyn our brother, Sweyn were not wending, 
 bare-footed and forlorn, to lay the wrecks of deso- 
 lated life at the Holy Tomb." 
 
 " Harold, Harold ! " faltered the Queen, much 
 struck with his words. 
 
 " But," the Earl continued and something of 
 the pathos which belongs to deep emotion vibrated 
 in the eloquent voice, accustomed to command and 
 persuade " we strip not the green leaves for our 
 yule-hearths we gather them up when dry and 
 sere. Leave youth on the bough let the bird 
 sing to it let it play free in the airs of heaven. 
 Smoke comes from the branch which, cut in the 
 sap, is cast upon the fire, and regret from the 
 heart which is severed from the world while the 
 world is in its May." 
 
 The Queen paced slowly, but in evident agita- 
 tion, to and fro the room, and her hands clasped 
 convulsively the rosary round her neck; then, 
 
 VOL, i. o
 
 20 HAROLD. 
 
 after a pause of thought, she motioned to Edith, 
 and, pointing to the oratory, said with forced com- 
 posure, " Enter there, and there kneel ; commune 
 with thyself, and be still. Ask for a sign from 
 above pray for the grace within. Go ; I would 
 speak alone with Harold." 
 
 Edith crossed her arms on her bosom meekly, 
 and passed into the oratory. The Queen watched 
 her for a few moments, tenderly, as the slight, 
 child-like form bent before the sacred symbol. 
 Then she closed the door gently, and coming with 
 a quick step to Harold, said, in a low but clear 
 voice, " Dost thou love the maiden ? " 
 
 " Sister," answered the Earl, sadly, " I love her 
 as man should love woman more than my life, 
 but less than the ends life lives for." 
 
 " Oh, world, world, world ! " cried the Queen, 
 passionately, " not even to thine own objects art 
 thou true. O world ! O world ! thou desirest 
 happiness below, and at every turn, with every 
 vanity, thou tramplest happiness under foot ! Yes, 
 yes ; they said to me, * For the sake of our great- 
 ness, thou shalt wed King Edward.' And I live 
 in the eyes that loath me and and " The
 
 HAROLD, 291 
 
 Queen, as if conscience-stricken, paused aghast, 
 kissed devoutly the relic suspended to her rosary, 
 and continued, with such calmness that it seemed 
 as if two women were blent in one, so startling 
 was the contrast, " And I have had my reward, 
 but not from the world! Even so, Harold the 
 Earl, and Earl's son, thou lovest yon fair child, 
 and she thee ; and ye might be happy, if happiness 
 were earth's end; but, though high-born, and of 
 fair temporal possessions, she brings thee not lands 
 broad enough for her dowry, nor troops of kindred 
 to swell thy lithsmen, and she is not a mark-stone 
 in thy march to ambition: and so thou lovest 
 her as man loves woman 'less than the ends life 
 lives for!'" 
 
 " Sister," said Harold, " thou speakest as I love 
 to hear thee speak as my bright-eyed, rose-lipped 
 sister spoke in the days of old ; thou speakest as a 
 woman with warm heart, and not as the mummy 
 in the stiff cerements of priestly form ; and if 
 thou art with me, and thou Avilt give me counte- 
 nance, I will marry thy godchild, and save her 
 alike from the dire superstitions of Hilda, and the 
 grave of the abhorrent convent." 
 o2
 
 292 HAROLD. 
 
 " But my father my father ! " cried the Queen ; 
 " who ever bended that soul of steel ? " 
 
 " It is not my father I fear ; it is thee and thy 
 monks. Forgettest thou that Edith and I are 
 within the six banned degrees of the Church ? " 
 
 " True, most true," said the Queen, with a look 
 of great terror ; " I had forgotten. A vaunt, the 
 very thought ! Pray fast banish it my poor, 
 poor brother ! " and she kissed his brow. 
 
 " So, there fades the woman, and the mummy 
 speaks again ! " said Harold, bitterly. " Be it so ; 
 I bow to my doom. Well, there may be a time 
 when Nature on the throne of England shall pre- 
 vail over Priestcraft ; and, in guerdon for all my 
 services, I will then ask a king who hath blood in 
 his veins to win me the Pope's pardon and 
 benison. Leave me that hope, my sister, and 
 leave thy godchild on the shores of the living 
 world." 
 
 The Queen made no answer; and Harold, 
 auguring ill from her silence, moved on and opened 
 the door of the oratory. But the image that there 
 met him, that figure still kneeling, those eyes, so 
 earnest in the tears that streamed from them fast
 
 HAROLD. 293 
 
 and unheeded, fixed on the holy rood awed his 
 step and checked his voice. Nor till the girl had 
 risen, did he break silence ; then he said, gently, 
 " My sister will press thee no more, Edith " 
 
 " I say not that ! " exclaimed the Queen. 
 
 " Or if she doth, remember thy plighted promise 
 under the wide cope of blue heaven, the old nor 
 least holy temple of our common Father!" 
 
 With these words he left the room.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HAROLD passed into the Queen's antechamber. 
 Here the attendance was small and select com- 
 pared with the crowds which we shall see 
 presently in the anteroom to the Bang's closet: 
 for here came chiefly the more learned ecclesi- 
 astics, attracted instinctively by the Queen's own 
 mental culture, and few indeed were they at that 
 day (perhaps the most illiterate known in England 
 since the death of Alfred*;) and here came not 
 the tribe of impostors, and the relic-venders, whom 
 the infantine simplicity and lavish waste of the 
 Confessor attracted. Some four or five priests 
 
 * The clergy (says Malmesbury) contented with a very slight 
 share of learning, could scarcely stammer out the words of the 
 sacraments; and a person who understood grammar, was an 
 object of wonder and astonishment. Other authorities likely to 
 be impartial, speak quite as strongly as to the prevalent igno- 
 rance of the time.
 
 HAROLD. 295 
 
 and monks, some lonely widow, some orphan 
 child, humble worth, or unprotected sorrow, made 
 the noiseless levee of the sweet sad Queen. 
 
 The groups turned, with patient eyes, towards 
 the Earl as he emerged from that chamber, which 
 it was rare indeed to quit unconsoled, and mar- 
 velled at the flush in his cheek, and the disquiet 
 on his brow ; but Harold was dear to the clients 
 of his sister ; for, despite his supposed indifference 
 to the mere priestly virtues (if virtues we call 
 them) of the decrepit time, his intellect was re- 
 spected by yon learned ecclesiastics ; and his cha- 
 racter, as the foe of all injustice, and the fosterer 
 of all that were desolate, was known to yon pale- 
 eyed widow, and yon trembling orphan. 
 
 In the atmosphere of that quiet assembly, the 
 Earl seemed to recover his kindly temperament, 
 and he paused to address a friendly or a soothing 
 word to each ; so that when he vanished, the hearts 
 there felt more light; and the silence, hushed 
 before his entrance, was broken by many whispers 
 in praise of the good Earl. 
 
 Descending a staircase without the walls as 
 even in royal halls the principal staircases were
 
 296 HAROLD. 
 
 then Harold gained a wide court, in which 
 loitered several house carles,* and attendants, 
 whether of the King or the visitors ; and, reaching 
 the entrance of the palace, took his way towards 
 the King's rooms, which lay near, and round, what 
 is now called " The Painted Chamber," t then used 
 as a bedroom by Edward on state occasions. 
 
 And now he entered the antechamber of his 
 royal brother-in-law. Crowded it was, but rather 
 seemed it the hall of a convent than the ante- 
 room of a king. Monks, pilgrims, priests, met 
 his eye in every nook; and not there did the 
 Earl pause to practise the arts of popular favour. 
 Passing erect through the midst, he beckoned 
 forth the officer, in attendance at the extreme end, 
 who, after an interchange of whispers, ushered him 
 into the royal presence. The monks and the 
 priests, gazing towards the door which had closed 
 on his stately form, said to each other: 
 
 * House aarles in the royal court were the body guard, mostly, 
 if not all, of Danish origin. They appear to have been first formed, 
 or at least employed, in that capacity, by Canute. With the 
 great earls, the house carles probably exercised the same func- 
 tions, but in the ordinary acceptation of the word in families of 
 lower rank, house carle was a domestic servant.
 
 HAROLD. 297 
 
 " The King's Norman favourites at least honoured 
 the Church." 
 
 " That is true," said an abbot ; " and, an it were 
 not for two things, I should love the Norman 
 better than the Saxon." 
 
 " What are they, my father ? " asked an aspiring 
 young monk. 
 
 " Inprinis" quoth the abbot, proud of the one 
 Latin word he thought he knew, but that, as we 
 see, was an error ; " they cannot speak so as to be 
 understood, and I fear me much they incline to 
 mere carnal learning." 
 
 Here there was a sanctified groan : 
 
 " Count William himself spoke to me in Latin !" 
 continued the abbot, raising his eyebrows. 
 
 " Did he ? Wonderful ! " exclaimed several 
 voices. " And what did you answer, holy 
 father?" 
 
 " Marry," said the abbot solemnly, " I replied, 
 ' Inprinis." 1 " 
 
 " Good!" said the young monk, with a look of 
 profound admiration. 
 
 " Whereat the good Count looked puzzled 
 as I meant him to be: a heinous fault, and one 
 
 o 3
 
 298 HAIIOLD. 
 
 intolerant to the clergy, that love of profane 
 tongues ! And the next thing against your Nor- 
 man is," (added the abbot, with a sly wink,) " that 
 he is a close man, who loves not his stoup ; now, 
 I say, that a priest never has more hold over a 
 sinner than when he makes the sinner open his 
 heart to him." 
 
 " That's clear ! " said a fat priest, with a lubricate 
 and shining nose. 
 
 " And how," pursued the abbot triumphantly, 
 " can a sinner open his heavy heart until you have 
 given him something to lighten it? Oh, many 
 jand many a wretched man have I comforted spi- 
 ritually over a flagon of stout ale ! and many a 
 good legacy to the Church hath come out of a 
 friendly wassail between watchful shepherd and 
 strayed sheep ! But what hast thou there ?" re- 
 sumed the abbot, turning to a man, clad in the lay 
 garb of a burgess of London, who had just entered 
 the room, followed by a youth bearing what seemed 
 a coffer, covered with a fine linen cloth. 
 
 "Holy father!" said the burgess, wiping his 
 forehead, " it is a treasure so great, that I trow 
 Hugoline, the King's treasurer, will scowl at me
 
 HAROLD. 299 
 
 for a year to come, for he likes to keep liis own 
 grip on the King's gold!" 
 
 At this indiscreet observation, the abbot, the 
 monks, and all the priestly bystanders looked grim 
 and gloomy, for each had his own special design 
 upon the peace of poor Hugoline, the treasurer, 
 and liked not to see him the prey of a layman. 
 
 " Inprinis I " quoth the abbot, puffing out the 
 word with great scorn; "thinkest thou, son of 
 Mammon, that our good King sets his pious heart 
 on gew-gaws, and gems, and such vanities ? Thou 
 shouldst take the goods to Count Baldwin of 
 Flanders ; or Tostig, the proud Earl's proud son." 
 
 " Marry !" said the cheapman, with a smile ; 
 " my treasure will find small price with Bald- 
 win the scoffer, and Tostig the vain I Nor need ye 
 look at me so sternly, my fathers ; but rather vie 
 with each other who shall win this wonder of 
 wonders for his own convent ; know, in a word, 
 that it is the right thumb of St. Jude, which a 
 worthy man bought at Rome for me, for 3000 Ibs. 
 weight of silver; and I ask but 500 Ibs. over the 
 purchase for my pains and my fee."* 
 
 * This was cheap. For Agelnoth, Archbishop of Canterbury,
 
 300 HAROLD. 
 
 " Humph !" said the abbot. 
 
 " Humph !" said the aspiring young monk ; .the 
 rest gathered wistfully round the linen cloth. 
 
 A fiery exclamation of wrath and disdain was 
 here heard; and all turning, saw a tall, fierce- 
 looking thegn, who had found his way into that 
 group, like a hawk in a rookery. 
 
 " Dost thou tell me, knave," quoth the thegn, 
 in a dialect that bespoke him a Dane by origin, 
 with the broad burr still retained in the north; 
 " Dost thou tell me that the King will waste his 
 gold on such fooleries, while the fort built by 
 Canute at the flood of the Humber is all fallen into 
 ruin, without a man in steel jacket to keep watch 
 on the war fleets of Swede and Norwegian?" 
 
 " Worshipful minister," replied the cheapman, 
 with some slight irony in his tone ; " these 
 reverend fathers will tell thee that the thumb of 
 St. Jude is far better aid against Swede and 
 Norwegian than forts of stone and jackets of steel ; 
 natheless, if thou wantest jackets of steel, I have 
 some to sell at fair price, of the last fashion, and 
 
 gave the Pope 6000 Ibs. weight of silver for the arm of St. Augus- 
 tine. MAIMESBURT.
 
 HAROLD. 301 
 
 helms with long nose-pieces, as are worn by the 
 Normans." 
 
 " The thumb of a withered old saint," cried 
 the Dane, not heeding the last words, " more 
 defence at the mouth of the Humber than crenel- 
 lated castles, and mailed men ! " 
 
 " Surely, naught son," said the Abbot, looking 
 shocked, and taking part with the cheapman. 
 et Dost thou not remember that, in the pious and 
 famous council of 1014, it was decreed to put aside 
 all weapons of flesh against thy heathen country- 
 men, and depend alone on St. Michael to fight for 
 us? Tliinkest thou that the saint would ever 
 suffer his holy thumb to fall into the hands of the 
 Gentiles ? never ! Go to, thou art not fit to 
 have conduct of the King's wars. Go to, and 
 repent, my son, or the King shall hear of it." 
 
 " Ah, wolf in sheep's clothing!' muttered the 
 Dane, turning on his heel ; " if thy monastery 
 were but built on the other side the Humber !" 
 
 The cheapman heard him, and smiled. While 
 such the scene in the anteroom, we follow Harold 
 into the King's presence. 
 
 On entering, he found there a man in the prime
 
 302 HAROLD. 
 
 of life, and, though richly clad, in embroidered 
 gonna, and with gilt ateghar at his side, 
 still with the loose robe, the long moustache, 
 and the skin of the throat and right hand punc- 
 tured with characters and devices, which proved 
 his adherence to the fashions of the Saxon.* And 
 Harold's eye sparkled, for in this guest he recog- 
 nised the father of Aldyth, Earl Algar, son of 
 Leofric. The two nobles exchanged grave salu- 
 tations, and each eyed the other wistfully. 
 
 The contrast between the two was striking. 
 The Danish race were men generally of larger 
 frame, and grander mould than the Saxon ;f and 
 though in all else, as to exterior, Harold was 
 eminently Saxon, yet, in common with his bro- 
 thers, he took from the mother's side the lofty air 
 
 * William of Malmesbury says, that the English, at the time of 
 the Conquest, loaded their arms with gold bracelets, and adorned 
 their skins with punctured designs, i. e. a sort of tattooing. He 
 says, that they then wore short garments, reaching to the mid- 
 knee ; but that was a Norman fashion, and the loose robes 
 assigned in the text to Algar were the old Saxon fashion, which 
 made but little distinction between the dress of women and that 
 of men. 
 
 t And in England, to this day, the descendants of the Anglo- 
 Danes, in Cumberland and Yorkshire, are still a taller and bonier 
 race than those of the Anglo-Saxons, as in Surrey and Sussex.
 
 HAROLD. 303 
 
 and iron frame of the old kings of the sea. But 
 Algar, below the middle height, though well set, 
 was slight in comparison with Harold. His 
 strength was that which men often take rather from 
 the nerve than the muscle ; a strength that belongs 
 to quick tempers and restless energies. His 
 light blue eye singularly vivid and glittering ; his 
 quivering lip ; the veins swelling, at each emotion, 
 on the fair white temples ; the long yellow hair, 
 bright as gold, and resisting, in its easy curls, all 
 attempts to curb it into the smooth flow most in 
 fashion ; the nervous movements of the gesture ; 
 the somewhat sharp and hasty tones of the voice ; 
 all opposed, as much as if the two men were of dif- 
 ferent races ; the steady deep eye of Harold, his 
 composed mien, sweet and majestic, his decorous 
 locks parted on the king-like front, with their large 
 single curl, where they touched the shoulder. 
 Intelligence and will were apparent in both the 
 men; but the intelligence of one was acute and 
 rapid, that of the other profound and steadfast ; 
 the will of one broke in flashes of lightning, 
 that of the other was calm as the summer sun 
 at noon.
 
 304 HAROLD. 
 
 " Thou art welcome, Harold," said the King, 
 with less than his usual listlessness, and with a 
 look of relief, as the Earl approached him. 
 
 " Our good Algar comes to us with a suit well 
 worthy consideration, though pressed somewhat 
 hotly, and evincing too great a desire for goods 
 worldly; contrasting in this his most laudable 
 father, our well-beloved Leofric, who spends his 
 substance in endowing monasteries, and dispens- 
 ing alms; where-for he shall receive a hundred 
 fold in the treasure-house above." 
 
 " A good interest, doubtless, my lord the 
 King," said Algar, quickly, " but one that is not 
 paid to his heirs ; and the more need, if my father 
 (whom I blame not for doing as he lists with his 
 own) gives all he hath to the monks the more 
 need, I say, to take care that his son shall be 
 enabled to follow his example. As it is, most 
 noble King, I fear me that Algar, son of Leofric, 
 will have nothing to give. In brief, Earl Harold," 
 continued Algar, turning to his fellow thegn 
 " in brief, thus stands the matter. "When our 
 lord the King was first graciously pleased to 
 consent to rule in England, the two chiefs who
 
 HAROLD. 305 
 
 most assured his throne were thy father and mine : 
 often foes, they laid aside feud and jealousy for 
 the sake of the Saxon line. Now, since then, 
 thy father hath strung earldom to earldom, like 
 links in a coat-mail. And, save JSTorthumbria 
 and Mercia, well nigh all England falls to him 
 and his sons ; whereas my father remains what 
 he was, and my father's son stands landless and 
 penceless. In thine absence the King was gra- 
 ciously pleased to bestow on me thy father's earl- 
 dom ; men say that I ruled it well. Thy father 
 returns, and though (here Algar's eyes shot fire, 
 and his hand involuntarily rested on his ateghar,) 
 I could have held it, methinks, by the strong 
 hand, I gave it up at my father's prayer, and the 
 King's hest, with a free heart. Now, therefore, 
 I come to my lord, and I ask, ' What lands and 
 what lordships canst thou spare in broad England 
 to Algar, once Earl of Wessex, and son to the 
 Leofric whose hand smoothed the way to thy 
 throne ?' My lord the King is pleased to preach 
 to me contempt of the world; thou dost not 
 despise the world, Earl of the East Angles, what 
 sayest thou to the heir of Leofric ?"
 
 306 HAROLD. 
 
 " That thy suit is just," answered Harold, 
 calmly, " but urged with small reverence." 
 
 Earl Algar bounded like a stag that the arrow 
 hath startled. 
 
 " It becomes thee, who hast backed thy suits 
 with warships and mail, to talk of reverence, and 
 rebuke one whose fathers reigned over earldoms,* 
 when thine were, no doubt, ceorls at the plough. 
 But for Edric Streone, the traitor and low-born, 
 what had been Wolnoth, thy grandsire ?" 
 
 So rude and home an assault in the presence 
 of the King, who, though personally he loved 
 Harold in his lukewarm way, yet, like all weak 
 men, was not displeased to see the strong split 
 their strength against each other, brought the 
 
 * Very few of the greater Saxon nobles could pretend to a 
 lengthened succession in their demesnes. The wars with the 
 Danes, the many revolutions which threw new families upper- 
 most, the confiscations and banishments, and the invariable rule 
 of rejecting the heir, if not of mature years at his father's death, 
 caused rapid changes of dynasty in the several earldoms. But 
 the family of Leofric had just claims to a very rare anti- 
 quity in their Mercian lordship. Leofric was the sixth Earl of 
 Chester and Coventry, in lineal descent from his namesake, 
 Leofric the first. He extended the supremacy of his hereditary 
 lordship over allMercia. SeeDcoDALE, Monast. vol. iii. p. 102 ; 
 and PALORAVE'S Commonwealth, Proofs and Illustrations, p. 291 .
 
 HAROLD. 307 
 
 blood into Harold's cheek ; but he answered 
 calmly : 
 
 " We live in a land, son of Leofric, in which 
 birth, though not disesteemed, gives of itself no 
 power in council or camp. We belong to a land 
 where men are valued for what they are, not for 
 what their dead ancestors might have been. So 
 has it been for ages in Saxon England, where my 
 fathers, through Godwin, as thou sayest, might 
 have been ceorls ; and so, I have heard, it is in the 
 land of the martial Danes, where my fathers, 
 through Githa, reigned on the thrones of the 
 
 o * o 
 
 North." 
 
 " Thou dost well," said Algar, gnawing his lip, 
 " to shelter thyself on the spindle side, but we 
 Saxons of pure descent think little of your kings 
 of the North, pirates and idolators, and eaters 
 of horseflesh ; but enjoy what thou hast, and let 
 Algar have his due." 
 
 " It is for the King, not his servant, to answer 
 the prayer of Algar," said Harold, withdrawing 
 to the farther end of the room. 
 
 Algar's eye followed him, and observing that 
 the King was fast sinking into one of the fits of
 
 308 HAROLD. 
 
 religious reverie in which he sought to be in- 
 spired with a decision, whenever his mind Avas 
 perplexed, he moved with a light step to Harold, 
 put his hand on his shoulder, and whispered, 
 
 " We do ill to quarrel with each other I repent 
 me of hot words : enough. Thy father is a wise 
 man, and sees far thy father would have us 
 friends. Be it so. Hearken : my daughter Aldyth 
 is esteemed not the least fair of the maidens in 
 England ; I will give her to thee as thy wife, and 
 as thy morgen gift, thou shalt win for me from 
 the King the earldom forfeited by thy brother 
 Sweyn, now parcelled out amongst sub-earls and 
 thegns easy enow to control. By the shrine of 
 St. Alban, dost thou hesitate, man ? " 
 
 "No, not an instant," said Harold, stung to 
 the quick. " Not, couldst thou offer me all 
 Mercia as her dower, would I wed the daughter 
 of Algar, and bend my knee, as a son to a wife's 
 father, to the man who despises my lineage, while 
 he truckles to my power." 
 
 Algar's face grew convulsed with rage; but 
 without saying a word to the Earl he strode back 
 to Edward, who now with vacant eyes looked
 
 HAROLD. 309 
 
 tip from the rosary over which he had been 
 bending, and said abruptly 
 
 " My lord the King, I have spoken as I think 
 it becomes a man who knows his own claims, and 
 believes in the gratitude of princes. Three days 
 will I tarry in London for your gracious answer; 
 on the fourth I depart. May the saints guard 
 your throne, and bring round it its best defence, 
 the thegn-born satraps whose fathers fought with 
 Alfred and Athelstan. All went well with 
 merrie England till the hoof of the Dane King 
 broke the soil, and mushrooms sprung up where 
 the oak-trees fell." 
 
 When the son of Leofric had left the chamber, 
 the King rose Avearily, and said in Norman 
 French, to which language he always yearningly 
 returned when with those who could speak it, 
 
 " Beau fr^re and bien aime, in what trifles must 
 a king pass his life ! And, all this while, matters 
 grave and urgent demand me. Know that Eadmcr, 
 the cheapman, waits without, and hath brought 
 me, dear and good man, the thumb of St. Jude ! 
 What thought of delight ! And this unmannerly 
 son of strife, with his jay's voice and wolf's eyes,
 
 310 HAROLD. 
 
 screaming at me for earldoms! oh the folly of 
 man ! Naught, naught, very naught !" 
 
 " Sir and King," said Harold, " it ill becomes 
 me to arraign your pious desires, but these relics 
 are of vast cost; our coasts are ill defended, and 
 the Dane yet lays claim to your kingdom. Three 
 thousand pounds of silver and more does it need 
 to repair even the old wall of London and Soutli- 
 weorc." 
 
 "Three thousand pounds!" cried the King; 
 " thou art mad, Harold ! I have scarce twice that 
 sum in the treasury ; and besides the thumb of St. 
 Jude, I daily expect the tooth of St. Remigius 
 the tooth of St. Remigius ! " 
 
 Harold sighed. "Vex not yourself, my lord, 
 I will see to the defences of London. For, thanks 
 to your grace, my revenues are large, while my 
 wants are simple. I seek you now to pray your 
 leave to visit my earldom. My lithsmen murmur 
 at my absence, and grievances, many and sore, 
 have arisen in my exile." 
 
 The King stared in terror; and his look was 
 that of a child when about to be left in the dark. 
 
 " Nay, nay ; I cannot spare thee, bean frere.
 
 HAROLD. 311 
 
 Thou curbest all these stiff thegns thou leavest 
 me time for the devout ; moreover thy father, thy 
 father, I will not be left to thy father! I love 
 him not!" 
 
 " My father " said Harold mournfully, " returns 
 to his own earldom ; and of all our House you will 
 have but the mild face of your queen by your 
 side!" 
 
 The King's lip writhed at that hinted rebuke, 
 or implied consolation. 
 
 "Edith the Queen," he said, after a slight 
 pause, "is pious and good; and she hath never 
 gainsaid my will, and she hath set before her as a 
 model the chaste Susannah, as I, unworthy man, 
 from youth upward, have walked in the pure steps 
 of Joseph.* But," added the King, with a touch 
 of human feeling in his voice, "canst thou not 
 conceive, Harold, thou who art a warrior, what 
 it would be to see ever before thee the face of 
 thy deadliest foe the one against whom all thy 
 struggles of life and death had turned into memories 
 of hyssop and gall ?" 
 
 "My sister!" exclaimed Harold, in indignant 
 * AILRED de Vit. Edw.
 
 312 HAROLD. 
 
 amaze, "My sister thy deadliest foe! She who 
 never once murmured at neglect, disgrace she 
 whose youth hath been consumed in prayers for 
 thee and thy realm my sister! O King, I 
 dream ! " 
 
 "Thou dreamest not, carnal man," said the 
 King, peevishly. "Dreams are the gifts of the 
 saints, and are not granted to such as thou ! Dost 
 thou think that, in the prime of my manhood, 
 I could have youth and beauty forced on my sight, 
 and hear man's law and man's voice say, ' They 
 are thine, and thine only,' and not feel that war 
 was brought to my hearth, and a snare set on my 
 bed, and that the fiend had set watch on my soul ? 
 Verily, I tell thee, man of battle, that thou hast 
 known no strife as awful as mine, and achieved no 
 victory as hard and as holy. And now, when my 
 beard is silver, and the Adam of old is expelled at 
 the precincts of death; now, thinkest thou, that 
 I can be reminded of the strife and temptation of 
 yore, without bitterness and shame; when days 
 were spent in fasting, and nights in fierce prayer ; 
 and in the face of woman I saw the devices of 
 Satan?"
 
 HAROLD. 313 
 
 Edward coloured as he spoke, and his voice 
 trembled with the accents of what seemed hate. 
 Harold gazed on him mutely, and felt that at last 
 he had won the secret that had ever perplexed 
 him, and that in seeking to be above the humanity 
 of love, the would-be saint had indeed turned love 
 into the hues of hate a thought of anguish, and a 
 memory of pain. 
 
 The King recovered himself in a few moments, 
 and said, with some dignity, " But God and his 
 saints alone should know the secrets of the house- 
 hold. What I have said was wrung from me. 
 Bury it in thy heart. Leave me, then, Harold, 
 sith so it must be. Put thine earldom in order, 
 attend to the monasteries and the poor, and return 
 soon. As for Algar, what sayest thou ? " 
 
 " I fear me," answered the large-souled Harold, 
 with a victorious effort of justice over resentment, 
 " that if you reject his suit you will drive him into 
 some perilous extremes. Despite his rash and 
 proud spirit, he is brave against foes, and beloved 
 by the ceorls, who oft like best the frank and hasty 
 spirit. Wherefore some power and lordship it 
 were wise to give, without dispossessing others, 
 
 VOL. i. p
 
 314 HAROLD. 
 
 and not more wise than due, for his father served 
 you well." 
 
 " And hath endowed more houses of God than 
 any earl in the kingdom. But Algar is no Leofric. 
 We will consider your words and heed them. 
 Bless you, beaufrbre! and send in the cheapman. 
 The thumb of St. Jude ! What a gift to my new 
 church of St. Peter ! The thumb of St. Jude ! 
 Non nobis gloria ! Sancta Maria ! The thumb 
 of St. Jude!"
 
 NOTES.
 
 NOTES. 
 
 NOTE (A), page 25. 
 
 THERE are various accounts in the Chroniclers as to the 
 stature of William the First ; some represent him as a 
 giant, others as of just or middle height. Considering 
 the vulgar inclination to attribute to a hero's stature the 
 qualities of the mind (and putting out of all question the 
 arguments that rest on the pretended size of the disburied 
 bones for which the authorities are really less respectable 
 than those on which we are called upon to believe that the 
 skeleton of the mythical Gawaine measured eight feet), 
 we prefer that supposition, as to the physical proportions, 
 which is most in harmony with the usual laws of Nature. 
 It is rare, indeed, that a great intellect is found in the form 
 of a giant.
 
 318 NOTES. 
 
 NOTE (B), page 52. 
 
 GAME LAWS BEFORE THE CONQUEST. 
 
 UNDER the Saxon kings a man might, it is true, hunt in 
 his own grounds, but that was a privilege that could 
 benefit few but thegns ; and over cultivated ground or 
 shire-land there was not the same sport to be found as in the 
 vast wastes called forest-land, and which mainly belonged 
 to the kings. 
 
 Edward declares, in a law recorded in a volume of the 
 Exchequer, " I will that all men do abstain from hunting 
 in my woods, and that my will shall be obeyed under 
 penalty of life."* 
 
 Edgar, the darling monarch of the monks, and, indeed, 
 one of the most popular of the Anglo-Saxon kings, was so 
 rigorous in his forest-laws that the thegus murmured as 
 well as the lower husbandmen, who had been accustomed 
 to use the woods for pasturage and boscage. Canute's 
 forest-laws were meant as a liberal concession to public 
 feeling on the subject ; they are more definite than Edgar's, 
 but terribly stringent ; if a freeman killed one of the king's 
 deer, or struck his forester, he lost his freedom and became 
 a penal serf, (wite theowe) that is, he ranked with felons. 
 Nevertheless, Canute allowed bishops, abbots, and thegns, 
 to hunt in his woods a privilege restored by Henry III. 
 The nobility, after the Conquest, being excluded from the 
 royal chases, petitioned to enclose parks, as early even as 
 the reign of William I. ; and by the time of his son, 
 Henry I., parks became so common as to be at once a 
 ridicule and a grievance. 
 
 * THOMSON'S Essay on Magna Cfiarta.
 
 NOTES. 319 
 
 NOTE (C), pages 127, 144. 
 
 LANFRANC, THE FIRST ANGLO-NORMAN ARCHBISHOP OF 
 CANTERBURY. 
 
 LANFRANC was, in all respects, one of the most remark- 
 able men of the eleventh century. He was born in Pavia, 
 about 1105. His family was noble his father ranked 
 amongst the magistrature of Pavia, the Lombard capital. 
 From his earliest youth he gave himself up, with all a 
 scholar's zeal, to the liberal arts, and the special knowledge 
 of law, civil and ecclesiastical. He studied at Cologne, and 
 afterwards taught and practised law in his own country. 
 " While yet extremely young," says one of the lively 
 chroniclers, " he triumphed over the ablest advocates, and 
 the torrents of his eloquence confounded the subtlest 
 rhetorician." His decisions were received as authorities 
 by the Italian jurisconsults and tribunals. His mind, to 
 judge both by his history and his peculiar reputation (for 
 probably few, if any, students of our day can pretend to 
 more than a partial or superficial acquaintance with his 
 writings), was one that delighted in subtleties and casu- 
 istical refinements ; but a sense too large and commanding 
 for those studies which amuse but never satisfy the higher 
 intellect, became disgusted betimes with mere legal dia- 
 lectics. Those grand and absorbing mysteries connected 
 with the Christian faith and the Roman Church (grand and 
 absorbing in proportion as their premises are taken by 
 religious belief as mathematical axioms already proven) 
 seized hold of his imagination, and tasked, to the depth, 
 his inquisitive reason. The Chronicle of Knyghton cites
 
 320 fiOTES. 
 
 an interesting anecdote of his life at this, its important, 
 crisis. He had retired to a solitary spot, beside the Seine, 
 to meditate on the mysterious essence of the Trinity, when 
 he saw a boy ladling out the waters of the river that ran 
 before him into a little well. His curiosity arrested, he 
 asked " what the boy proposed to do ?" The boy replied, 
 "to empty yon deep into this well." "That canst thou 
 never do," said the scholar. " Nor canst thou," answered 
 the boy, " exhaust the deep on which thou dost meditate 
 into the well of thy reason." Therewith the speaker 
 vanished, and Lanfranc, resigning the hope to achieve the 
 mighty mystery, threw himself at once into the arms of 
 faith, and took his refuge in the monastery of Bee. 
 
 The tale may be a legend, but not an idle one. Perhaps 
 he related it himself as a parable, and by the fiction 
 explained the process of thought that decided his career. 
 In the prime of his manhood, about 1042, when he was 
 thirty-seven years old, and in the zenith of his scholarly 
 fame, he professed. The Convent of Bee had been lately 
 founded, under Herluin, the first abbot ; there Lanfranc 
 opened a school, which became one of the most famous 
 throughout the west of Europe. Indeed, under the Lom- 
 bard's influence, the then obscure Convent of Bee, to which 
 the solitude of the site, and the poverty of the endowment, 
 allured his choice, grew the Academe of the age. " It was," 
 says Orderic, in his charming chronicle, "it was under 
 such a master that the Normans received their first notions 
 of literature ; from that school emerged the multitude of 
 eloquent philosophers who adorned alike divinity and 
 science. From France, Gascony, Bretagne, Flanders, 
 scholars thronged to receive his lessons."* 
 ORDERIC, VITAL, lib. 4.
 
 NOTES. 321 
 
 At first, as superficially stated in the tale, Lanfranc had 
 taken part against the marriage of William with Matilda 
 of Flanders a marriage clearly contrary to the formal 
 canons of the Roman Church, and was banished by 
 the fiery Duke ; though William's displeasure gave way 
 at " the decent joke " (jocus decens), recorded in the 
 text. At Rome, however, his influence, arguments, and 
 eloquence, were all enlisted on the side of William ; and 
 it was to the scholar of Pavia that the great Norman 
 owed the ultimate sanction of his marriage, and the repeal 
 of the interdict that excommunicated his realm.* 
 
 At Rome he assisted in the council held 1059 (the year 
 wherein the ban of the Church was finally and formally 
 taken from Normandy) at which the famous Berenger, 
 Archdeacon of Angers, (against whom he had waged a 
 polemical controversy that did more than all else to 
 secure his repute at the Pontifical Court,) abjured "his 
 heresies" as to the Real Presence in the sacrament of the 
 Eucharist. 
 
 In 1062, or 1063, Duke William, against the Lombard's 
 own will, (for Lanfranc genuinely loved the liberty of letters, 
 more than vulgar power,) raised him to the abbacy of St. 
 Stephen of Caen. From that time, his ascendancy over his 
 haughty lord was absolute. The contemporary historian, 
 (William of Poitiers,) says that " William respected him as 
 a father, venerated him as a preceptor, and cherished him 
 as a brother or son." He confided to him his own designs ; 
 
 * The date of William's marriage has been variously stated in English 
 and Norman history, but is usually fixed in 1051 2. M. Pluquet, however, 
 in a note to his edition of the Roman de Sou, says that the only authority 
 for the date of that marriage is in the Chronicle of Tours ; and it is there 
 referred to 1053. It would seem that the Papal excommunication was not 
 actually taken off till 1059 j nor the formal dispensation for the marriage 
 granted till 1063. 
 
 p 3
 
 322 NOTES. 
 
 and committed to him the entire superintendence of the 
 ecclesiastical orders throughout Normandy. Eminent no 
 less for his practical genius in affairs, than for his rare 
 piety and theological learning, Lanfranc attained indeed to 
 the true ideal of the Scholar ; to whom, of all men, nothing 
 that is human should be foreign ; whose closet is but a 
 hermit's cell, unless it is the microcosm that embraces the 
 mart and the forum ; who by the reflective part of his 
 nature seizes the higher region of philosophy by the 
 energetic, is attracted to the central focus of action. For 
 scholarship is but the parent of ideas ; and ideas are the 
 parents of action. 
 
 After the conquest, as prelate of Canterbury, Lanfranc 
 became the second man in the kingdom happy, perhaps, 
 for England had he been the first ; for all the anecdotes 
 recorded of him show a deep and genuine sympathy with 
 the oppressed population. But William the King of the 
 English, escaped from the control which Lanfranc had im- 
 posed on the Duke of the Normans. The scholar had 
 strengthened the aspirer ; he could only imperfectly in- 
 fluence the conqueror. 
 
 Lanfranc was not, it is true, a faultless character. He 
 was a priest, a lawyer, and a man of the world three 
 characters hard to amalgamate into perfection, especially 
 in the eleventh century. But he stands in gigantic and bril- 
 liant contrast to the rest of our priesthood in his own day, 
 both in the superiority of his virtues, and in his exemption 
 from the ordinary vices. He regarded the cruelties of Odo 
 of Bayeux with detestation, opposed him with firmness, 
 and ultimately, to the joy of all England, ruined his 
 power. He gave a great impetus to learning ; he set a 
 high example to his monks, in his freedom from the mer-
 
 NOTES. . 323 
 
 cenary sins of their order ; he laid the foundations of a 
 powerful and splendid Church, which, only because it failed 
 in future Lanfrancs, failed in effecting the civilization of 
 which he designed it to be the instrument. He refused 
 to crown William Rufus, until that king had sworn to 
 govern according to law and to right ; and died, though a 
 Norman usurper, honoured and beloved by the Saxon 
 people. 
 
 Scholar, and morning star of light in the dark age of 
 force and fraud, it is easier to praise thy life, than to track 
 through the length of centuries all the measureless and in- 
 visible benefits which the life of one scholar bequeathes to 
 the world in the souls it awakens in the thoughts it 
 suggests.* 
 
 NOTE (D), page 148. 
 
 EDWARD THE CONFESSOR'S REPLY TO MAGNUS OF DENMARK, 
 WHO CLAIMED HIS CROWN. 
 
 ON rare occasions Edward was not without touches of 
 a brave kingly nature. 
 
 Snorro Sturleson gives us a noble and spirited reply of 
 the Confessor to Magnus, who, as heir of Canute, claimed 
 the English crown; it concludes thus, " Now, he (Hardi- 
 canute) died, and then it was the resolution of all the 
 people of the country to take me for the king here in 
 
 * For authorities for the above sketch, and for many interesting details 
 of Lanfranc's character, see ORDEHTC. VITAL. HEN. DE KNYGHTON, lib. ii. 
 GERVASIUS; and tlie LIFE OF LANFRANC, to be found in the collection of 
 his Works, &c.
 
 324 NOTES. 
 
 England. So long as I had no kingly title, I served my 
 superiors in all respects, like those who had no claims by 
 birth to land or kingdom. Now, however, I have received 
 the kingly title, and am consecrated king ; I have estab- 
 lished my royal dignity and authority, as my father before 
 me ; and while I live, I will not renounce my title. If 
 King Magnus comes here with an army, I will gather no 
 army against him ; but he shall only get the opportunity 
 of taking England when he has taken my life. Tell him 
 these words of mine." If we may consider this reply as 
 authentic, it is significant, as proof that Edward rests his 
 title on the resolution of the people to take him for king ; 
 and counts as nothing, in comparison, his hereditary 
 claims. This, together with the general tone of the reply 
 particularly the passage in which he implies that he trusts 
 his defence not to his army but his people makes it 
 probable that Godwin dictated the answer; and, indeed, 
 Edward himself could not have couched it, either in Saxon 
 or Danish. But the King is equally entitled to the credit 
 of it, whether he composed it, or whether he merely ap- 
 proved and sanctioned its gallant tone and its princely 
 sentiment. 
 
 NOTE (E), page 153. 
 
 HERALDS. 
 
 So much of the " pride, pomp, and circumstance " which 
 invest the Age of Chivalry is borrowed from these com- 
 panions of princes, and blazoners of noble deeds, that i\
 
 NOTES. 325 
 
 may interest the reader, if I set briefly before him what 
 our best antiquaries have said as to their first appearance 
 in our own history. 
 
 Camden (somewhat, I fear, too rashly) says, that " their 
 reputation, honour, and name began in the time of Charle- 
 magne." The first mention of heralds in England occurs 
 in the reign of Edward III., a reign in which chivalry was 
 at its dazzling zenith. Whitlock says, " that some derive 
 the name of Herald from Hereauld," a Saxon word, (old 
 soldier, or old master,) " because anciently they were 
 chosen from veteran soldiers." Joseph Holland says, " I 
 find that Malcolm, King of Scots, sent a herald unto 
 William the Conqueror, to treat of a peace, when both 
 armies were in order of battle." Agard affirms, that " at 
 the Conquest there was no practice of heraldry;" and ob- 
 serves truly, " that the Conqueror used a monk for his 
 messenger to King Harold." 
 
 To this I may add, that monks or priests also fulfil the 
 office of heralds in the old French and Norman Chronicles. 
 Thus Charles the Simple sends an archbishop to treat 
 with Rolfganger ; Louis the Debonnair sends to Mormon, 
 chief of the Bretons, " a sage and prudent abbot." But in 
 the Saxon times, the nuncius (a word still used in heraldic 
 Latin) was in the regular service both of the King and the 
 great Earls. The Saxon name for such a messenger was 
 bode, and when employed in hostile negociations, he was 
 styled war-bode. The messengers between Godwin and the 
 King would seem, by the general sense of the chronicles, 
 to have been certain thegns acting as mediators.
 
 326 NOTES. 
 
 NOTE (F), page 210. 
 
 THE FXLGIA, OR TUTELARY SPIRIT. 
 
 THIS lovely superstition in the Scandinavian belief is the 
 more remarkable because it does not appear in the creed 
 of the Germanic Teutons, and is closely allied ;with the 
 good angel, or guardian genius, of the Persians. It forms, 
 therefore, one of the arguments that favour the Asiatic 
 origin of the Norsemen. 
 
 The Fylgia (following, or attendant, spirit) was always 
 represented as a female. Her influence was not uniformly 
 favourable, though such was its general characteristic. 
 She was capable of revenge if neglected, but had the devo- 
 tion of her sex when properly treated. Mr. Grenville 
 Pigott, in his recent and popular work, entitled " A Manual 
 of Scandinavian Mythology," relates an interesting legend 
 with respect to one of these supernatural ladies : 
 
 A Scandinavian warrior, Halfred Vandraedakald, having 
 embraced Christianity, and being attacked by a disease 
 which he thought mortal, was naturally anxious that a 
 spirit who had accompanied him through his pagan career 
 should not attend him into that other world, where her 
 society might involve him in disagreeable consequences. 
 The persevering Fylgia, however, in the shape of a fair 
 maiden, walked on the waves of the sea after her viking's 
 ship. She came thus in sight of all the crew ; and Halfred, 
 recognising his Fylgia, told her point blank that their 
 connexion was at an end for ever. The forsaken Fylgia 
 had a high spirit of her own, and she then asked Thorold 
 " if he would take her." Thorold ungallantly refused ;
 
 NOTES. 327 
 
 but Halfred the younger said, " Maiden, I will take 
 thee."* 
 
 In the various Norse Saga there are many anecdotes of 
 these spirits, who are always charming, because, with their 
 less earthly attributes, they always blend something of the 
 woman. The poetry embodied in their existence is of a 
 softer and more humane character than that common with 
 the stern and vast demons of the Scandinavian mythology. 
 
 NOTE (G), page 227. 
 
 THE ORIGIN OF EARL GODWIN. 
 
 SHARON TURNER quotes from the Knytlinga Saga what 
 he calls " an explanation of Godwin's career or parentage, 
 which no other document affords;" viz. "that Ulf, a 
 Danish chief, after the battle of Skorstein between Canute 
 and Edmund Ironsides, pursued the English fugitives into 
 a wood, lost his way, met, on the morning, a Saxon youth 
 driving cattle to their pasture, asked him to direct him in 
 safety to Canute's ships, and offered him the bribe of a 
 gold ring for his guidance ; the young herdsman refused 
 the bribe, but sheltered the Dane in the cottage of his 
 father, (who is represented as a mere peasant,) and con- 
 ducted him the next morning to the Danish camp ; pre- 
 viously to which, the youth's father represented to Ulf, 
 that his son, Godwin, could never, after aiding a Dane to 
 escape, rest in safety with his countrymen, and besought 
 him to befriend his son's fortunes with Canute." The 
 Dane promised, and kept his word : hence Godwin's rise. 
 
 * PIGOTT'S Scand. Mythol. p. 360. HALF. VAND. SAGA.
 
 328 NOTES. 
 
 Thierry, in his " History of the Norman Conquest," tells 
 the same story, on the authority of Torfaeus, Hist. Rer. 
 Norweg. Now I need not say to any scholar in our early 
 history, that the Norse Chronicles, abounding with romance 
 and legend, are never to be received as authorities counter 
 to our own records, though occasionally valuable to supply 
 omissions in the latter ; and, unfortunately for this pretty 
 story, we have against it the direct statements of the 
 very best authorities we possess, viz. the Saxon Chron- 
 icle and Florence of Worcester. The Saxon Chronicle 
 expressly tells us that Godwin's father was Childe of 
 Sussex, (Florence calls him minister or thegn of Sussex,*) 
 and that Wulnoth was nephew to Edric, the all-powerful 
 Earl or Duke of Mercia. Florence confirms this state- 
 ment, and gives the pedigree, which may be deduced as 
 follows : 
 
 I I 
 
 Edric married Egehic, surnamed Leofwine. 
 
 Edgith, daughter of 
 King Ethelred II. Egelmar. 
 
 Wolnoth. 
 Godwin. 
 
 Thus this " old peasant," as the North Chronicles call 
 Wolnoth, was, according to our most unquestionable autho- 
 rities, a thegn of one of the most important divisions in 
 England, and a member of the most powerful family in the 
 kingdom. Now, if our Saxon authorities needed any aid 
 from probabilities, it is scarcely worth asking, which is the 
 more probable, that the son of a Saxon herdsman should 
 in a few years rise to such power as to marry the sister of 
 the royal Danish Conqueror or that that honour should 
 
 * " Suthsaxonum Ministrum Wolfnothem." FtoR. WIG.
 
 NOTES. 329 
 
 be conferred on the most able member of a house already 
 allied to Saxon royalty, and which evidently retained its 
 power after the fall of its head, the treacherous Edric 
 Streone ? Even after the Conquest, one of Streone's 
 nephews, Edricus Sylvaticus, is mentioned (Simon. Du- 
 nelm.) as " a very powerful thegn." Upon the whole, the 
 account given of Godwin's rise in the text of the work 
 appears the most correct that conjectures, based on our 
 scanty historical information, will allow. 
 
 In 1009 A.D., Wolnoth, the Childe or Thegn of Sussex, 
 defeats the fleets of Ethelred, under his uncle Brightric, 
 and goes therefore into rebellion. Thus when, in 1014, 
 (five years afterwards) Canute is chosen king by all the 
 fleet, it is probable that Wolnoth, and Godwin his son, 
 espoused his cause ; and that Godwin, subsequently pre- 
 sented to Canute as a young noble of great promise, was 
 favoured by that sagacious king, and ultimately honoured 
 with the hand, first of his sister, secondly of his niece, as a 
 mode of conciliating the Saxon thegns. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 R. CLAY, PRINTER, BREAD STREET HILL.
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
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