The Second G.A. Henty

by G. A. Henty

  “I blush for what has taken place today, Wulf,” he said. “Tell the earl that had we known what was going to occur there are few indeed who would have attended at the ceremony, and that I for one shall hold him in no way dishonoured if he breaks the vow that has thus been dishonourably extorted from him. It was a trick and a base one, and I would tell Duke William so to his face. What will men think of Norman faith when guests are thus tricked to their disadvantage?”

  For an hour Wulf remained talking with the baron and his family.

  “I hope to see you again, Wulf,” De Burg said, as the lad rose to take leave. “Guy regards you as a brother, and though assuredly no Saxon will set foot on Norman soil after today’s doings, we may yet meet again.”

  “I shall come over to England to see you, Wulf, if you come not here,” Guy said. “I begin to think that I shall get over this, although I may never be really strong again. We shall often think and talk of you, Agnes and I; and I should like, of all things, to come and stay in your Saxon home.”

  “No one would be so welcome, Guy. If we are never to be brothers-in-arms as we once talked of, we shall surely be brothers in heart, whether absent or present.”

  A few more words and Wulf took leave of them all and rode back to Rouen. In the morning the duke accompanied Harold to the river bank and there took a courteous farewell of him. It is not probable that he thought for a moment that Harold would observe the oath, but he saw that its breach would be almost as useful to him as its fulfilment, for it would enable him to denounce his rival as a perjured and faithless man, and to represent any expedition against England as being a sort of crusade to punish one who had broken the most solemn vows made on the holy relics. Harold himself preserved his usual calmness of demeanour, and stood talking quietly to the duke while the latter’s presents of hawks and hounds were taken on board the ship, and the Saxons, silent and sullen, had passed over the gangway. Then an apparently affectionate embrace was exchanged between the two rivals. Harold crossed on to the ship, the great sails were hoisted, and the two vessels proceeded down the river.

  CHAPTER VIII

  TROUBLE WITH WALES

  Harold took his place on the poop as the vessel started, and remained looking fixedly at the duke, until the latter with the group of barons turned and entered the town.

  “Farewell, William of Normandy,” he said; “false friend and dishonoured host. How shall we meet next time, I wonder, and where?”

  Hitherto the presence of the Norman attendants had prevented any private converse between Harold and his followers, but having the poop to themselves they now broke out into angry exclamations against the duke.

  “It was an unworthy and unknightly trick,” Harold said calmly; “but let us not talk of it now; it will be for the English people to decide the question some day, and for English bishops to determine whether I am bound by a vow thus extorted. Better at all events that I should be held for all time to have been false and perjured, than that the English people should fall under the Norman yoke. But maybe there will be no occasion for the oath ever to come in question, William of Normandy or I may die before the king, and then there will be an end of it. Let us talk of other things. Thank God we are free men again, and our faces are set towards England, where, from what I hear, we may have to meet open foes instead of false friends, and may have to teach the Welsh, once and for all, that they and their king cannot with impunity continually rise in rebellion against England.

  “Well, Wulf, you are the only one among us who has brought back aught from Normandy, at least you and Beorn, for you have your horses and chains, and the promise of the duke to grant you a boon. But these are small things. You have gained great credit, and have shown yourself a gallant fighter, and have further promises from the duke.”

  “I care not for his promises,” Wulf said hotly. “I hold him to be a dishonoured noble, and I would take naught from his hands.”

  “You are young yet, Wulf,” Harold smiled, “and the duke’s promise, made before his nobles, will be held binding by him if ever the time should come for you to claim it. Do not refuse benefits, lad, because you do not like the hands that grant them. You rendered him a service, and need feel no shame at receiving the reward for it. As soon as we return I shall take steps to raise you and Beorn to the full dignity of thanes, with all rights and privileges. My brother and my friends here can all testify to the service you rendered to us, for much as I may have to complain of the ending of my visit, it has at least been vastly better than our lot would have been had we remained in the hands of Conrad of Ponthieu. You are both very young to be placed in the position of rulers of your people, and in ordinary cases you would not have been sworn to thane’s services for some years to come; but, as Earl of Wessex, I see good reason for departing from the rule on this occasion, and I think that my thanes here will all be of that opinion.” There was a warm expression of approval from the Saxons. “Then as soon as we set foot on English soil we will hold a court, and invest you with your full rank.”

  They started from the mouth of the Seine, and as there was no nearer port than that from which they had sailed, Harold directed the masters of the ships to make for Bosham.

  “It is like to be a fairer voyage than the last,” he said, as with a light breeze blowing behind them they sailed out from the mouth of the Seine. “It will be longer, but assuredly more pleasant.”

  No incident whatever marked the voyage. The Saxons gave a shout of joy when they first made out the outline of the hills of the Isle of Wight, some twelve hours after leaving the mouth of the river; but it was not until eight hours afterwards that they entered the harbour of Bosham. As soon as the two Norman vessels were seen sailing up the quiet sheet of water, everywhere fringed with forest, boats put out to meet them, to ascertain the reason of their coming and to inquire for news of Harold and his companions. As soon as his figure was made out standing on the poop, one of the boats rowed off with the news, and by the time the vessels dropped anchor off Bosham the whole of the inhabitants had gathered on the shore, with loud shouts of joy and welcome.

  As soon as they landed Harold and his companions proceeded at once to the church, where a solemn service of thanksgiving was held for their preservation from the dangers of the sea and for their safe return to England. As soon as the service was over Harold sent off two horsemen to bear to the king the news of his return, and to state that he himself would ride to London on the following day. Then the earl bestowed handsome presents upon the masters and crews of the ships that had brought them over, and gave into their charge hawks and hounds, rich armour, and other presents for the Duke of Normandy, and jewelled cups and other gifts to the principal barons of his court.

  The gifts were indeed of royal magnificence; but Harold’s wealth was vast, and, as he said to his brother, “We will at least show these Normans, that in point of generosity an English earl is not to be outdone by a Norman duke.” As soon as these matters were attended to Harold held a court in the great hall of Bosham, and there received the oaths of fealty from Wulf and Beorn, and confirmed to them the possessions held by their fathers, and invested them with the gold chains worn by thanes as the sign of their rank. He afterwards bestowed a purse of gold upon Osgod, equal in value to the one he had received from the Duke of Normandy.

  “Should aught ever happen to your master,” he said, “come you to me and you shall be one of my own men, and shall not lack advancement in my service.”

  “In faith, Master Wulf,” Osgod said after the ceremony, “my father warned me that the trade of a soldier was but a poor one, and that a good handicraftsman could gain far more money. He will open his eyes when I jingle these purses before him, for I might have hammered armour for years before I gained as much as I have done in the three months since I left England. I have enough to buy a farm and settle down did it so please me, and I have clothes enough to last me well-nigh a lifetime, and rings enough to set up a goldsmith’s shop. For scarce one of the duke’s baron
s and knights but followed his example, and gave me a present for my share in that little fight with the Bretons.”

  “As for the clothes, they will always be useful, Osgod; but were I you I would get a stout leathern bag and put the purses and rings into it, and bury them in some place known only to yourself, and where none are ever likely to light upon them. You have no occasion for money now, and we may hope that ere long all occasion for fighting will be over, and then, as you say, you can buy a farm and marry.”

  “I am going always to remain your man,” Osgod said in an aggrieved tone.

  “Certainly, Osgod, I should wish for nothing else. You will always be my friend, and shall have any post on the estates or in the house that you may prefer. There will be no occasion for you to farm your land yourself, you can let it, receiving the value of half the produce, and so taking rank as a landowner, for which you yourself may care nothing, but which will enable your wife to hold her head higher.”

  “I am not thinking of wives, my lord.”

  “Nonsense, Osgod, I want not to be called my lord.”

  “But you are a thane now and must be called so,” Osgod said sternly; “and it would be ill-becoming indeed if I your man did not so address you. But I will take your advice about the gold, and when I get down to Steyning will bury it deeply under the roots of a tree. It will be safer there than if I buried it in my father’s forge, for London is ever the centre of troubles, and might be sacked and burnt down should there ever be war between Mercia or Northumbria and Wessex.”

  “Heaven forbid that we should have more civil wars, Osgod.”

  “Amen to that, but there is never any saying. Assuredly Edwin and Morcar love not our earl, and as to Tostig, though he is his brother, he is hot-headed and passionate enough to play any part. And then there are the Normans, and there is no doubt the duke will have to be reckoned with. Altogether methinks my money will be safer under an oak-tree down at Steyning than at Westminster.”

  “You are right enough there, Osgod; by all means carry out your ideas. But there is the bell for supper, and I must go.”

  The next morning the party started at daybreak, and late that night arrived at Westminster. There were great rejoicings in London and throughout the south of England when it was known that the great earl had returned from Normandy. Much uneasiness had been felt at his long absence, and although accounts had come from time to time of the honour with which he had been treated by Duke William, many felt that his prolonged stay was an enforced one, and that he was a prisoner rather than a guest of the duke.

  The king himself was as rejoiced as his subjects at Harold’s return. Although in the early years of his reign he had been bitterly opposed to the powerful family of Earl Godwin, to whom he owed his throne, he had of late years learnt to appreciate the wisdom of Harold; and although still Norman in his tastes as in his language, he had become much more English at heart, and bitterly regretted the promise that he had years before rashly given to the Duke of Normandy.

  Harold too had relieved him of all the cares of government, which he hated, and had enabled him to give his whole time and thought to religious exercises, and to the rearing of the splendid abbey which was his chief pleasure and pride. In his absence Edward had been obliged to attend to state business. He was worried with the jealousies and demands of the Earl of Mercia, with the constant complaints of the Northumbrians against their harsh and imperious master Tostig, and by the fact that the Welsh were taking advantage of the absence of Harold to cause fresh troubles. It was just Christmas when Harold returned, and the snow fell heavily on the night of his arrival at Westminster.

  “It was lucky it did not come a few hours earlier, Beorn,” Wulf said, as he looked out of the casement. “We had a long and heavy ride yesterday, and we could not have done it in one day had the snow been on the ground. I suppose there will be a number of court festivities over Harold’s return. We have had enough of that sort of thing in Normandy, and I hope that Harold will let us return at once to our estates.”

  “Speak for yourself, Wulf; for myself I love the court, and now that I am a thane I shall enjoy it all the more.”

  “And I all the less,” Wulf said. “Fifteen months ago we were but pages and could at least have some fun, now we shall have to bear ourselves as men, and the ladies of the court will be laughing at us and calling us the little thanes, and there will be no getting away and going round to the smithy to watch Osgod’s father and men forging weapons. It will be all very stupid.”

  In a short time an attendant summoned them to breakfast, and here they sat down with the other thanes, Harold’s wing of the palace being distinct from that of the king. The earl sat at the head of the table, and talked in undertones to his brother Gurth and two or three of his principal thanes. The personal retainers of the nobles stood behind their seats and served them with food, while Harold’s pages waited on him and those sitting next to him.

  “We were a merrier party in the pages’ room,” Beorn whispered to Wulf, for but few words were spoken as the meal went on.

  “I think there is something in the air,” Wulf said, “the earl looks more serious than usual. Generally the meals are cheerful enough.”

  As soon as it was finished Harold said, “The king will receive you all in half an hour, he desires to express to you his pleasure at your return home. After that I beg that you will again gather here, as I have occasion to speak to you.”

  The court was a more formal one than usual, the king’s Norman functionaries were all present as were several ecclesiastics. Among them the Bishop of London, behind whom stood Wulf’s old adversary, Walter Fitz-Urse. Earl Harold introduced his companions in captivity, the king receiving them very graciously.

  “I am glad to see that you have all returned safely,” he said. “The earl tells me that you have all borne yourselves well in the battles you have fought under the banner of my friend and ally Duke William of Normandy, and that you have proved to his countrymen that the English are in no whit inferior to themselves in courage. The earl specially recommended to me his newly-made thanes, Wulf of Steyning and Beorn of Fareham, who did him the greatest service by effecting their escape from the castle of Beaurain, and at great risk bearing the news of his imprisonment to Duke William. Wulf of Steyning, he tells me, gained the highest approval of the duke and his knights by a deed of bravery when their camp was surprised by the Bretons. The earl has informed me that in consideration of these services he has advanced them to the rank of thanes, and confirmed them in their father’s possessions, and as service rendered to him is service rendered to me, I thus bestow upon them a token of my approval;” and beckoning to the young thanes to advance, he took two heavy gold bracelets from his arm, and himself fastened them on those of the kneeling lads.

  When the ceremony was over, Harold’s party returned to the room where they had breakfasted. It was an hour before the earl joined them.

  “I have been in council with the king,” he said, “and have thus been forced to keep you waiting. We heard when abroad that the Welsh were again becoming troublesome, but I find that matters are much worse than I had supposed. Griffith has broken out into open rebellion; he has ravaged all the borders, has entered the diocese of Wulfstan, the new Bishop of Worcester, and carried his arms beyond the Severn, laying waste part of my own earldom of Hereford. Edwin, who has just succeeded his father in the earldom of Worcester, is young and new to his government, and, moreover, his father was an ally of Griffith’s. In any case, he needs far larger forces than those at his command to undertake a war with the Welsh. This time we must finish with them; treaties are of no avail they are ever broken on the first opportunity, and a blow must be dealt that will render them powerless for harm for generations to come.

  “Therefore the king has commissioned me forthwith to act in the matter, not only as Lord of Hereford but as Earl of the West Saxons. Winter is upon us, and it will be impossible to undertake a regular campaign. Still a blow must be struck, and that
quickly and heavily in order to stop the depredation and ruin they are spreading in the west counties. The preparations must be secret and the blow sudden. There is no time for calling out levies, that must be done in the spring. I must act only with mounted men. I have already sent off a messenger to Bosham to bid my housecarls mount and ride to Salisbury. They will number two hundred. I pray you all to leave at once for your estates, or to send an order by a swift messenger for your housecarls to ride to Salisbury, whither I myself shall proceed in three days. Will each of you give me the tale of the number of armed men who can take horse at an hour’s notice.”

  Each of those present gave the number of housecarls in his service, and they all expressed their willingness to ride themselves, in order to get them ready the more speedily. The total mounted to three hundred and fifty men.

  “That with my own two hundred will be well-nigh sufficient,” Harold said; “but I will send off messengers at once to some of the thanes of Dorset and Somerset to join us at Gloucester with their men, so that we shall be fully a thousand strong, which will be ample for my purpose. I need not impress upon you all to preserve an absolute silence as to the object for which you are calling out your men. News spreads fast, and an incautious word might ruin our enterprise. There is no occasion for you all to accompany your men. Those of you who have been with me in Normandy will doubtless desire to stay for a while with your wives and families, and you may do equally good service by making preparations there for a more serious campaign in the spring. I beg these to send with their housecarls a trusted officer, and bid him place himself and his men under my orders.”