The Siege of Norwich Castle: A story of the last struggle against the Conqueror

by M. M. Blake

  CHAPTER X.

  LANFRANC, PRIMATE OF ALL ENGLAND.

  Waltheof, instead of continuing his journey northward, left his retinueprivily, and, with as small a following as the state of the countryrendered imperative, made his way to Canterbury and craved audience ofthe Primate, appealing to him in the double capacity of a spiritualfather, and, for the time, while King William should be absent, as atemporal superior also, the archbishop having been appointed justiciaryof the kingdom in conjunction with Robert, Earl of Morton, and Geoffry,Bishop of Coutances.

  After certain ceremonious delays, he was received. Lanfranc, Archbishopof Canterbury and Primate of all England, was a man of high characterand subtle intellect, uniting the business capacities and breadth ofview of the man of the world, to the piety and earnestness of a sincerechurchman.

  A Lombard by birth, he had attained eminence in his youth as a lawstudent at Pavia. His birth was not noble, but his parents were said tohave been of senatorial rank, which indicated a good social position.His eloquence as a lawyer was so great, that he triumphed over veteranopponents, and soon became famous. Italy, however, was at that timetorn by dissensions, and he was early involved in political quarrels,so that he deemed it wise to quit the arena of his forensic triumphs,and to seek the less genial but safer climate of Normandy. Here he soonattained high eminence, and opened a school at Avranches, to whichscholars came in crowds; but suddenly the illustrious advocatedisappeared, and no one knew whither.

  He was discovered, some three years later, living the life of apenitent in the secluded monastery of Bec, a small establishmentfounded by his countryman Herluin, but which afterwards became famousthrough having supplied Canterbury with three archbishops. After atime, Lanfranc became the prior of Bec, and was as much sought as areligious teacher as he had hitherto been as a lawyer.

  In his newly-awakened zeal, Lanfranc took it upon him to denounce theintended marriage of the Duke of Normandy with Matilda of Flanders; thePope having threatened excommunication, as the couple were within theprohibited degrees of relationship.

  One fine day, the quiet monks of Bec, working in their garden amongsttheir cabbages and onions, were surprised by the advent of a gaycompany of knights in holiday attire, surrounding an ecclesiastic whorode pompously upon a fine white mule. The excitement increased toboiling point when the visitor was found to be the duke's chaplainHerfast, whom we have already introduced to the reader as holding theBishopric of Elmham in 1075, and that his retinue was composed ofnobles high in favour at the court; and the much-impressed monkshastened to tell their prior of the honour shown him. But the prior wasgiving audience to a beggar, and made the duke's emissaries wait tillhis conference was leisurely concluded. He understood perfectly wellthat William wished to bribe him, by this display of favour, intogiving his assent to the wedding, and he had a mind to assert hisindependence.

  Herfast was as ignorant as he was pompous, and the accomplished priortook every opportunity of exposing his guest's ignorance, even placingin his hands an abcdarium, or spelling-book, to the great amusement ofthe spectators and the huge wrath of Herfast, who rode back to hisroyal master with a fine tale of the insolence of the Lombard upstart.

  William was so incensed, that he fell into a paroxysm of rage, orderedLanfranc out of the country, and sent a band of soldiers to burn one ofthe granges of the monastery to the ground, as a practical witness tohis anger at the way in which his courtiers had been treated.

  Imagine the consternation amongst the monks of Bec. Lanfranc, however,was equal to the occasion. William had ordered him to quit the country.But the brethren of Bec were poor, and there were no parliamentarytrains in those dark ages to carry passengers from one end of a countryto the other for a penny a mile. They must travel in the saddle or onfoot. Churchmen, for the most part, patronised mules of considerablesize and high breeding, and journeyed in no small state. But the onlyanimal the stables of Bec could boast was a sorry steed, angular ofjoint and far from sound. None the less the prior mounted it, and setoff for Rouen, where he had been bidden to appear before the duke erehe quitted the country.

  William came forth to meet the haughty churchman, who had dared tothwart and condemn him, and to make fun of his chaplain, accompanied bya gallant train of knights and squires. He expected to meet a cavalcadealmost as numerous and magnificent as his own.

  His face was dark with anger, and he wrapped himself in thoughtfultaciturnity, meditating a rebuke befitting the insolence with which hiscondescension and favour had been met.

  He grew impatient when along the straight level road nothing could beseen but a single horseman on a lame jade, whose nose almost touchedthe ground at every step, and whose pace was easily kept up with by afollower on foot.

  As this sorry trio approached, however, he saw that the men werehabited as monks, and Herfast, who rode beside his royal master on hissleek white mule, flushed deeply red.

  ''Tis Lanfranc himself!' he exclaimed.

  Lanfranc jests with the Conqueror.]

  'What new mummery is this?' demanded William, his keen eyes strayingover the comical figure of the prior and his wretched mount, and asmile gleaming over his stern face, brief but irrepressible, forWilliam was a lover of horseflesh, and spared no pains or expense inthe importation of fine horses from Spain for his own use. The creaturehe bestrode was a splendid animal, and the strongest of contrasts tothe prior's pitiful nag.

  Slight as the smile was, and hastily repressed, Lanfranc saw it, andtook instant advantage.

  'By your commands,' said the audacious prior airily, 'I am leaving yourdominions, but it is only at a foot's pace that I can proceed on such awretched beast as this; give me a better horse, and I shall be betterable to obey your commands.'

  William had a keen sense of humour, and perhaps felt that the cleverLombard would be a formidable foe.

  He laughed a royal laugh of magnificent amusement. 'Who ever heardbefore,' he asked, 'of an offender venturing to ask a donation from thevery judge he has offended?'

  Herfast grew redder than ever with chagrin and mortification, for hesaw very plainly that the subtle prior had mollified the duke by hisintrepid joke. And so it was, and from this strange meeting resulted noless a matter than the establishment of a friendship which lasted tillWilliam's death.

  Not long afterwards, Lanfranc went to Rome to plead with the Pope, andurge him to give his sanction to that marriage which the prior hadhitherto opposed so bitterly. And this he did without inconsistency,for his opposition had been based upon William's defiance of the HolySee; when, therefore, he persuaded the haughty duke to humble himself,and plead meekly for a dispensation, with promises that he and hisbride would bind themselves to many duties in return, amongst others,to endow each an abbey and two hospitals, the seeming submission ofLanfranc was really a triumph.

  After a while, though much against his will, Lanfranc was induced toleave Normandy, and assume the onerous post of Primate of William'snewly-conquered kingdom of England. He even appealed to Pope AlexanderII. to extricate him from the difficulties of such high office, and topermit him to return to the monastic life, which above all thingsdelighted him. But the Pope refused to interfere, and Lanfranc acceptedthe inevitable, and set to work with courageous zeal to make the bestof his manifold duties. And he acquitted himself like a brave and goodman, steering a wise course amongst the jealous Normans and aggrievedSaxons, selecting virtuous men to fill the posts which became vacant;and though, no doubt, partaking the prejudices of the conquerors, yetsecuring good men amongst the Saxon clergy as friends. The Church ofEngland owes much to him, for he was distinctly an imperialist, andstoutly resisted papal aggression, laying the seeds of that nationalitywhich has saved us from so many evils.

  It may be imagined that the simple-minded and gentle Waltheof, muchmore adept at wielding a seax than at chopping logic, and who was aswax in the hands of his clever wife, was as water under the treatmentof this subtle Lombard, who could mould to his wishes even theself-willed and astute William
.

  The archbishop received the Earl of Northumberland with much pomp andcircumstance, giving him the ceremonious honour due to his high rankand his position as husband of the king's niece, so that Waltheof hadto beg for a private interview.

  This being granted, the unhappy hero knew not how to begin his forcedconfession, and the keen black eyes with which Lanfranc searched hisface did not lessen his confusion.

  But the archbishop had no intent to deal harshly with his illustriouspenitent.

  His features softened with a winning smile. 'What hast thou to say tome, my son?' he asked in a gentle voice. 'Why hesitate? Dost thou notknow me for a true friend?'

  'Alas, father! I have a sad tale of sin and weakness to reveal to thineears,' said the son of Siward at length. 'But I pray thee advise me. Ihave taken an oath, and since then, heated with wine, and somewhatoverawed by numbers, I have taken a second contrary thereto. By whicham I bound? Am I forsworn in that, notwithstanding this second oath, Isent the messenger to thee, who, if nought mischanced, reachedCanterbury some four days agone?'

  'Thou hast sinned, my son, answered the archbishop gravely; 'but not soheavily but that, after due penance, the offence may be pardoned. Anunwilling oath, taken under the compulsion of an excited crowd, canscarce bind as that which was the fruit of calm reflection and soberjudgment. Rather must it be accounted evil in thee, that thou didstconsort with a man who was anathema of the Holy Church.' His mobileface grew stern, but it was a sternness not unmixed with sorrow.

  'Nay,' answered Waltheof eagerly, 'I knew not of that till the banquetwas well-nigh ended, when it was impossible to turn back.'

  He was relieved at the tone of the archbishop, yet could not keepreflecting bitterly in his heart, that this light treatment of a forcedoath when taken by the son of Siward _against_ William, was verydifferent to the view taken of that made by the son of Godwin _for_William. Harold had been branded a perjurer for abjuring a forced oath.

  'Nevertheless,' said the archbishop, not yet relaxing his face, 'thouhadst knowledge that the men whose bread was broken for thee wereacting in direct opposition to the mandate of thy king-lord andkinsman, whose clemency had pardoned thy former misdeeds against him,whose hand had been reached to thee in fellowship, and whose niece hadbeen given to thee to be bone of thy bone, flesh of thy flesh.'

  'In good sooth, father,' replied Waltheof reluctantly, and with the airof a schoolboy repeating a lesson by rote, 'I thought mine uncle andking-lord was playing a somewhat tyrannical part in dividing two truelovers. I see now that he had reasons which I little suspected.'

  This defence had been suggested by Judith.

  Lanfranc's fine sensitive face grew sad. Speaking in a low, sorrowfulvoice, as though the subject caused him inexpressible pain, he said,'My son, it was not for light or frivolous reasons that William ourking-lord interfered to thwart the wishes of his earls. Nor was itwithout cause, or, in truth, without grievous necessity, that Ideclared the anathema of the Holy Church against the son of the man whodid more than any other to crown our Norman duke an English king. Hadit been but a question of a marriage,' the archbishop continued in thesame strain, but in a still softer tone, and rather as if speaking tohimself than to the earl, 'God forbid that I should have parted whom Hehad elected in His all-seeing wisdom to unite!' He sighed deeply, forin his youth he had been the husband of a much-loved wife, whose deathhad taken all flavour from earthly joy for him, and had been the causeof his precipitate retreat from a position of wealth and fame, to seekconsolation in the cloister. 'I have loved Roger Fitzosbern as a son! Ihave striven with him in affection! But, alas! in vain. One folly wasadded to another, until at last foolishness swelled into crime. Hedenied justice to the injured. He invaded the property of hisking-lord, and of his peers; and now he has crowned all by thisattempted treason, brought to the light at the unholy banquet at whichthou wert thyself tempted to evil, Waltheof! Ah! I have wept tears ofblood over this lost sheep. Would that my efforts had recalled him tothe fold! But the time is past.'

  He stretched out his thin, transparent hands before him, his dark eyesfixed upon space, as if contemplating a vision of the bloodshed tocome.

  He was silent, and Waltheof, being a man of few words, was silent also.

  Suddenly the Lombard turned his gleaming eyes upon the Northumbrianearl. Waltheof started, for in his heart was no repentance for havingattended the banquet, nor for any of his treasonable designs, but onlya fierce wrath against the Norman wife who had defeated his plans, andbrought him more tightly under the yoke he hated, and it seemed to himas if those dark eyes could read his most secret thoughts. He shiftedhis huge frame uneasily, so that the bracelets which ringed histattooed arms almost to the elbow, clanged together, and his largefingers sought the jewelled haft of the hunting-knife which hung at hisbaldric, not threateningly, but from habit.

  Yet if his thoughts were read, they were ignored.

  'But thou at least art here!' Lanfranc exclaimed, his mobile featureslighted by a brilliant smile. 'Thy better angel has prevailed, and, bythe mercy of Our Lady, has brought thee back to the fold at theeleventh hour.'

  Waltheof looked relieved, and he lifted his head and tossed back theyellow mane which had fallen over his face.

  'I pray thee, father,' he said earnestly, encouraged by the Primate'ssmile; 'stand by me in my trouble, and plead my cause with William ofNormandy. _Thou_ hast the power to influence him. Advise me how I maybest act to win his pardon for my transgression; how best assure him ofthe sincerity of my return to allegiance.'

  Waltheof's Humiliation.]

  'I will stand by thee, my son,' replied the archbishop, claspingWaltheof's great hand in his slender fingers. And he fulfilled hispromise with unswerving fidelity, even to the last, when theunfortunate son of Siward lay doomed to death in prison; nor, ifLanfranc could have prevented it, would William have consummated thatgreatest blot upon his reign, the execution of the Northumbrian earl.'Thou art impulsive, my son, and simple-minded, and therefore easilysnared. But I believe not that thy heart is evil, or that thou wouldstbe other than a pious son of our Holy Mother Church.'

  'No, indeed!' said Waltheof, much affected by the appeal, which rousedall the natural piety and humility of his nature. He crossed himselfwith much fervour. 'Tell me what to do, father. Whatever thou wiltcommand I will perform.'

  'My son, I would bid thee cross the sea to Normandy and seek William inperson, confessing all frankly, and throwing thyself on his mercy. Norwould it be detrimental to thy suit if thy hands bore somewhat of theproduce of the lands and honours he has bestowed upon thee with solavish a generosity.'

  Waltheof shuddered. It was no pleasant prospect to the powerful earl,whose head had of late been so filled with schemes of ambition, thus tohumble himself a second time to the conqueror of his people.

  But Waltheof's courage was more of the physical order than the moral.He was, besides, of gentle disposition, and sincerely desired to avertbloodshed, and he thought that his defection from the ranks of theconspirators would prevent any attempt to meet William in the field.

  Therefore he bowed his head. 'Thine advice is meet, father,' he said;'I will cross the seas and seek William, bearing rich presents totestify my regret for the past, and present goodwill.'