The Cunning of the Dove
Page 24
I stood silent in amazement. Then I glanced anxiously at the axe which hung at the messenger’s saddlebow. But the housecarle sat erect, glaring down at me. This message was a formal defiance, not the opening move in a bloody massacre.
‘I shall deliver your message to the housecarles and to the Lady,’ I said stiffly. ‘If your captain questions you say that Edgar the chamberlain makes himself responsible for its delivery. Say also that at dawn King Edward’s body will be taken out for burial. It will be laid in the tomb at Westminster immediately after the High Mass of the Epiphany.’
Then I ran to tell the Lady.
It still seemed strange to be in a bower, surrounded by females. The waiting women wailed in the conventional cries of mourning that must be kept up between the death of a great lord and his burial. The Lady herself sat praying with a Norman chaplain, and occasionally did her duty by throwing back her head and joining in the screams. But when she had heard my news she sent off her attendants to wail in the great hall, and kept only one maid to help her pack her jewels. We stood by a brazier, for it was bitter cold through all that grim Christmas. The Lady looked calm and composed, and she made her plans with all the political sense and acceptance of unwelcome facts that showed her to be a true daughter of the great Earl Godwin.
‘Harold is my brother,’ she said with a frown, ‘but he has broken the oath he swore to Duke William. That makes him worthless, nithing; as my brother Sweyn was nithing. He is no longer my kinsman, for I have kept my honour. Yet not all the Godwinssons are nithing. Tostig is true; and I, the Old Lady of England, will strive to carry out the commands of my dead lord. Therefore Harold is my enemy, as I suppose, Edgar, he is yours. Very well. What shall we do, now, tonight?’
‘Tell Duke William to claim his inheritance,’ I answered.
‘If Harold catches us sending a messenger to Normandy we shall lose our heads. It’s too dangerous. But even if Harold keeps the news from France it will reach Flanders; every day the fishermen of Kent meet the fishermen of Bruges in the Channel. So we must send the news secretly to Tostig in Flanders. I know he will work for Duke William. Who else will support us? Who are the magnates who follow Harold the forsworn usurper?’
‘Ah, that’s not so bad as it seems, madam.’ I had been reckoning up Harold’s power. ‘Even if it’s true that every magnate in London declared for him some may have been reluctant; and the Council that met tonight does not represent all England. Edwin and Morcar are in their governments; they will not willingly serve a Godwinsson. Earl Waltheof will be loyal to no one until he has received his father’s Earldom in Northumbria. Apart from Waltheof there is no one in London who carries any weight north of Trent, unless you count the Archbishop of York.’
‘Aldred is a good man, and a true Archbishop. But I can’t see armies following his lead,’ said the Lady with a wan smile. ‘So the thanes north of Trent are not committed to Harold. I shall advise Tostig to land in the north.’
‘And meanwhile we must get down to Winchester immediately after the funeral,’ I reminded her. ‘It will be difficult to remain in London without giving open support to this usurping King.’
‘I can’t understand why the Council made him King, even with that scoundrel Stigand to lead them,’ said the Lady. ‘All England knows that Harold has commended himself to William; he took oath on the greatest relics in Normandy. Do the English want to be ruled by a perjurer?’
‘Stigand and Gyrth and Leofwin want to be ruled by a Godwinsson. I suppose the others were taken by surprise, and did as they were told.’ I spoke doubtfully. It was a disgraceful business, and I felt as sad and distressed as the Lady.
‘When they have thought it over they will acknowledge their shame,’ she said stoutly. ‘Meanwhile we shall go quietly to Winchester, and hold ourselves ready to join any resistance that shows its head. At least, I suppose you will come with me, Edgar?’
‘Madam, I am grateful. I have been trained as a chamberlain, and it is the only trade I know. I cannot serve this usurper, and when the Duke comes into his own he will have Normans about him. Your hall will be my home, as King Edward’s hall was my home while my lord lived.’
On the next morning the holy King Edward was buried among the lamentations of his people. We lamented because he had been taken from us, not because we feared for him. He was with God, and we knew it. He had gone home.
The Lady dared not walk out of the minster before the coronation. I saw the usurper in all his glory, the vassals of the Godwinssons crowding round to commend themselves to him. At the climax of the ceremony Stigand picked up the crown of the English to place it on the false King’s head; but Harold roughly pushed him aside, and beckoned for Aldred of York to perform the rite. For all his double-dealing and treachery Stigand could not win recognition even from his accomplice in crime. When the time came for the household of the late King to swear allegiance I fell on my knees and appeared to be absorbed in prayer. Everyone knew that I had been the loved companion of King Edward, and even the Godwinsson housecarles respected my grief. So I managed to avoid the oath. I believe the Lady thought it prudent to bend the knee before Harold and wish him prosperity; but in those days an oath of allegiance was never demanded from a woman.
In the evening we left London for Winchester.
King Edward’s prophecy was abundantly fulfilled. Within a year and a day all England had been ravaged by armies, and of the house of Godwin only Wulfnoth remained, the youth who had never borne arms and who still lives as a prisoner in Normandy.
The first to fall was the gallant reckless Tostig. As soon as he heard of King Edward’s death he left Flanders with a few shiploads of Vikings and attempted to land among the East Angles. Beaten off, he tried again farther north, until after repeated failures he found himself off the Scottish coast. There he fell in with a great fleet of Norwegians, whom Harold Hardrada was leading to the invasion of England. He joined them, I suppose because any foe of King Harold his brother was his friend. But Harold killed him on the field of Stamford Bridge.
Harold himself, Gyrth, Leofwin, and all the housecarles of the Godwinssons died gallantly at Hastings. They were brave men, who fought well and died with their wounds in front; but they had gone into battle perjured and forsworn.
After the house of Godwin had fallen a few hot-headed magnates tried to set up the child atheling, Edgar Edwardsson. But since Duke William took London no other man has called himself King of the English. There were those who tried to abolish the Kingdom altogether. It was suggested that William might keep the southeast, while the west and the north went their separate ways. But in this matter the Old Lady was able to help the rightful heir of her lord. She persuaded the men of Exeter to yield, though they had rallied round Gytha the mother of Harold. Earlier she had arranged the peaceful submission of Winchester, after the burgesses had stayed neutral during the brief war. For Harold had not dared to enter as King the old city of the Cerdingas whose crown he had usurped. Under the rule of King William the Old Lady lived peacefully in Winchester, until in the year 1075 God called her to join her husband. Her household was dispersed, and I went to be head chamberlain to the Norman count of Winchester.
Copyright
First published in 1960 by Faber & Faber
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Copyright © Alfred Duggan 1960
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