The Rival Heirs; being the Third and Last Chronicle of Aescendune

by A. D. Crake

  CHAPTER III. THE WEDDING OF THE HAWK AND THE DOVE.

  It was a feature peculiar to the Norman Conquest, that while itsreal injustice and disregard of moral right could hardly besurpassed in the annals of warfare, the conquerors strove to giveto every act of violence and wrong the technical sanction of lawand the appearance of equity.

  This was easily done: first, by assuming that William was thelawful successor of Edward the Confessor, and that all who hadopposed him were therefore in the position of conquered rebels; andsecondly, since the Pope had excommunicated Harold, and sanctionedthe invasion, by treating all his aiders and abettors as hereticsor schismatics.

  Generally these harsh doctrines were pushed to their legitimateconsequences in cruel wrong inflicted upon an innocent people, andthe Anglo-Saxon thanes and nobles who survived the first years ofconquest were reduced to serfdom or beggary; but there wereexceptions. William doubtless intended at first to govern justly,and strove to unite the two nations--English and Norman; therefore,when the occasion offered, he bade his knights and barons whoaspired to an English estate marry the widows or daughters of thedispossessed thanes, and so reconcile the conflicting interests.Hence the blood of the old Anglo-Saxon lords flows in many a familyproud of its unblemished descent from the horde of pirates androbbers, whom a century and a half in France had turned into thepolished Normans.

  Alas! the varnish was often only skin deep.

  "Scratch the Norman, you will find the Dane," said the oldproverb--none the less ruthless and cruel because of the gloss of asuperficial civilisation.

  Within a few weeks after the fatal day of Senlac, all resistance onthe part of the disunited English, left without a recognisedleader, became hopeless; and William was crowned on Christmas Dayat Westminster Abbey, which on the previous feast of the Epiphany,in the same year, as we reckon time, had witnessed the coronationof his hapless rival. There he swore to be a just ruler to Englishand Normans alike, and, doubtless, at the time he was sincere; buthistory records how he kept his oath, and the course of our storywill illustrate it.

  The lands of all who fought on Harold's side at Hastings wereannounced to be forfeited; hence the widow and son of Edmund wereliable to be ejected from their home and possessions at Aescendune.

  But the conduct of Wilfred on the night after the battle had wonhim friends, and they pleaded for the youngster whose gallantbearing had made an impression on the mighty Conqueror himself, whofelt a passing interest in the brave boy.

  Still he would only interpose to stay the execution of the unjustlaw, and to keep off the greedy Norman nobles, who were alreadyprowling around the fair manor, on one condition: the lady ofAescendune must marry a Norman knight, recommended by himself; inwhich case, the right of succession after the death of hisstepfather should rest with Wilfred, who by that time woulddoubtless have become Norman in all but lineage--so thought theDuke.

  At first poor Lady Winifred utterly refused to consent; but whenthe prior of St. Wilfred reminded her that, in that case, she wouldlose all power of protecting her tenantry--the widows and orphansof those who had died around her husband, and that by refusal ofthe terms she threw away Wilfred's inheritance, and consignedherself and children to beggary--then she wavered, and after many apainful scene gave way, and consented to become the bride of Hugode Malville, the earliest applicant for her hand and estate, whenthe year of mourning for her lost Edmund should have elapsed.

  "I may give my hand," she said, "but can never give my heart."

  The good Bishop of Coutances saw that the preliminaries were fairlyarranged, for Hugo de Malville came from his diocese, where, if thetruth be told, he had not borne an exemplary character, and thebishop would fain have found a better father for the young Wilfred;only the Conqueror was peremptory, and would brook no interferencewith his arrangements.

  Therefore, all the good prelate could do was to see that themarriage contract was fairly drawn up by clerkly hands--thatWilfred stood next in succession. There was need of this, for Hugohad a son of the same age, a hopeful youth, named Etienne, the onlybeing on earth whom he was known to love.

  This lad was named next in order of succession to Wilfred, failingissue from the new marriage.

  The morning sun was shining brightly one October day, in the yearof grace 1067, on the old moated manor of Aescendune, on its clearriver and its deep woods, now bright with all the gorgeous tints ofautumn.

  All the good people of that well-known neighbourhood--well-known wemean to the readers of the former Chronicles--were gatheredtogether in crowds on the green between the castle and thevenerable priory of St. Wilfred, founded, as related in the firstof these veritable family legends, by Offa of Aescendune.

  Many a group of friends and kinsfolk had formed itself, some ineager but not loud discussion, in which the guttural tones of thatEnglish, so unlike our own, yet its direct progenitor in language,contrasted sharply with an occasional shout in Norman French fromsome marshal of the ceremonies, bent on clearing the course for thepassage of the coming procession.

  A deep gloom sat on many a brow--on nearly every aged one; for manyof the youngsters were merry enough.

  From the main archway of the old hall issued the bridalprocession--whence the funeral of Edmund had but emerged one yearbefore: she, surrounded by such friends and neighbours as yet livedand were permitted to hold their lands up to this time in peace,while he came from a neighbouring castle, newly erected, where hehad spent the night with great pomp and state, preceded by heraldswith their trumpets, and surrounded by all the knightly robbers whohad been already successful in grasping manors and estates roundAescendune.

  The Bishop of Coutances, vested in white stole, received them atthe door of the priory church, attended by the English prior.

  "Hugo," said he, "wilt thou receive Winifred, here present, as thywedded wife, according to the rites of our Holy Mother the Church?"

  "I will," he replied, in firm tones.

  "Winifred, wilt thou receive Hugo, here present, as thy weddedhusband, according to the rites of our Holy Mother the Church?"

  She faltered, trembled, then said: "I will," but all present musthave marked her hesitation.

  The bishop continued:

  "I join you in matrimony in the name of the Father, Son, and HolyGhost."

  Then he sprinkled them both with hallowed water, and afterwardsblessed the ring, praying that she who should wear it might ever befaithful to her spouse, and that they might live in the peace ofGod and in mutual charity.

  Hugo placed the ring on her cold, shuddering finger, she tremblinglike an aspen leaf; after which the bishop led the way to the highaltar, where the customary mass "pro sponso et sponsa" was said.

  Forth they now issued, the heralds first with their trumpets; thenthe men-at-arms with all the pomp of Norman array; then theprincipal tenants of the estate, looking more like prisoners thanguests; then another troop of Norman men-at-arms; then each on hisown horse, his squire by his side; the neighbouring barons, who hadalready built their castles and strengthened themselves in theland; then, preceded and attended by pages in sumptuous tunics oflinen, fringed and girded with cloth of gold, the happy pair, he onhis war steed, she on her white palfrey--he dark as the raven, shefair as the lily.

  Wilfred and Etienne were walking side by side in the procession,and it was impossible to help being struck by the contrast in theirappearance--the one supple and lithe in every limb, with dark,restless eyes, and quick, nervous temperament; the other, theEnglish boy, with his brown hair, his sunburnt, yet handsomefeatures--the fruit of country air and exercise--far stouter andsturdier than his foreign rival.

  They were expected, of course, to be very friendly; but any keenobserver would have noted a certain air of distrust which showeditself from time to time in their glances, in spite of the awkwardadvances they made to each other.

  How could it be otherwise? Could they forget the deadly feudbetween their races? Could they forget that each was a claimant ofthe lands of Aescendune--the
one by birth, the other by the rightof conquest?

  And now the bridal train reached the gates of the Hall amidst theplaudits of the Normans and the deep silence of the Englishmen--manyof whom would sooner far have seen the fair Winifred in her gravethan the wife of Hugo de Malville.

  "What thinkest thou, Sexwulf, of this most outlandish wedding?"

  "What can I think, Ulf, but that the good widow has lost her sensesthrough grief at the death of her lord, the noble Edmund, elsewould the dove never mate the black crow."

  "Yea, she was pale as death as she entered the church."

  "Well she may be; she liketh not the match, only she would save theestates for her boy's sake."

  "Will she be able to save them?"

  "So the Conqueror hath promised. Wilfred, our young lord, is toinherit if he live; and if he die, then that dark young Frenchlad--a true cub of the old wolf."

  "If he live. Well, I would not wager much upon his chance of a longlife in that case."

  "Nor I; but we must not say so, if we value our ears, or our neckseven."

  Long and loud was the revelry in the castle of Aescendune thatnight; as it is written in the old ballad of Imogene:

  "The tables groaned with the weight of the feast,And many and noble were the guests."

  But no spectral form sat beside the bride, although there were notwanting those who half imagined the dead Edmund might appear--rousedeven from the grave, to see the seat he had occupied so many years inhonour and worth, filled by this dark-browed Norman stranger.

  "Let us drink," said the courtly bishop, "to the health andhappiness of Norman lord and English lady, and may their union be atype of the union betwixt the two people, who, forgetting that theymet as worthy foes at Senlac, may live as brethren under thenoblest king in Christendom."

  The toast was drunk with acclamations; even the English gueststhought they meant it in the delirium of the jovial scene, andfancied for a moment that Englishman and Norman might yet live inpeace.

  "Is it not sweet?" said the good prior to one of the Englishguests. "It reminds me of the happy time when it is said the wolfshall lie down with the lamb."

  "Methinks the lamb is likely in this case to lie down inside thewolf, especially if he be a Norman wolf."

  But the speaker, whose attendance was compulsory, or he had notbeen there, had few sympathisers at the moment.

  "Let us hope for the best. Sir Hugo will not, cannot forget thesolemn covenant he has made today, to love and to cherish, tilldeath part him and his bride."

  "I hardly think, good father, that day is far off, judging by herlooks."

  The wax tapers cast a sweet, soft light over the pale, sad featuresof Winifred of Aescendune, daughter of Herstan {vii} ofClifftown, on the Thames, who had but lately, full of years, goneto his rest, spared the sad days of the Conquest--days utterlyunanticipated by those who died while Edward the Confessor yetreigned in peace, ere Harold visited the Norman court and sworeover the holy bones.

  She was but fulfilling a sad duty--at least she thought so--as sheplayed her ill-omened part, sacrificing herself for her boy and heronly daughter Edith. For what was the alternative? Was it not to goforth as fugitives and vagabonds on the face of the earth--a preyto every foreign noble--leaving her own dear people of Aescenduneto the wolf, without intercessor or protector.

  And thus it came to pass that Winifred of Aescendune married Hugode Malville.