by A. D. Crake
CHAPTER XXI. TWO DOCUMENTS.
Two years had passed away since his last visit, and Geoffrey,Bishop of Coutances, was again a visitor in England, this time theguest of the new primate of the conquered country, ArchbishopLanfranc, a native of Pavia, and formerly abbot of the famedmonastery of Bec in Normandy, to whom the king had been greatlyindebted for his services as negotiator with the Court of Rome,while the conquest was in deliberation.
He was a man of deep learning and great personal piety, yet notwithout some of the faults of the race, under whose auspices he hadcome to England. Still, in spite of his deep prejudices, he wasoften, as we shall see in these pages, the protector of theoppressed English.
Lanfranc was seated with his episcopal brother in the embrasure ofa deep window, looking out upon the cathedral close of Canterbury.
"It was sad, indeed, my brother," said the archbishop. "I scarcelyhave known a sadder day than that of my installation. The cathedralwhich thou seest slowly rising from its ruins yonder, had beendestroyed by fire, with all its ornaments, charters, and titledeeds. One would think that the heathen Danes had once moreoverspread the land, instead of our own Christian countrymen."
"And yet we two are answerable to some extent for this conquest.Without thee it had never been; thou didst gain the sanction of thePope and then preach it as a crusade. I followed the army toHastings, absolved the troops, and blessed its banners on the dayof the great victory."
"Heaven grant we may not have done wrong; but the sheep arescattered abroad, as when a wolf entereth the fold."
"Thou mayest yet be the means of reconciling the conquerors and theconquered--the Church is their natural mediator."
"God helping me, I will do justice between them; but the task is aheavy one--it is hard, nay, terrible, to stand against the will ofthis Conqueror."
"For this cause, perhaps, thou, who fearest not the face of man,art chosen of Heaven."
A low knock at the door interrupted them.
"Enter," cried Lanfranc; and a monk of the Benedictine order, whodischarged the duty of chamberlain, appeared.
"A brother of our order craves an audience."
It must be remembered that Lanfranc was the abbot of a Benedictinemonastery ere he was called to Canterbury {xxiii}.
"Is he English or Norman? Hath he told thee his errand?"
"English. He hath travelled far, and says that his errand is one oflife or death."
"Let him enter," said the primate.
A man in a faded Benedictine habit, evidently spent with travel,appeared at the door. His beard was of long growth, his hair wasuncombed, and his whole appearance that of a man who had passedthrough perils of no small difficulty and danger.
Lanfranc gazed fixedly at him, and seemed to strive to read hischaracter in his face.
"Pax tibi, frater; I perceive thou art of our order. At whatmonastery hast thou made thy profession?"
"At the priory of St. Wilfred, Aescendune," said Father Kenelm, forit was he, as he bent the knee to the primate.
"A pious and learned home, doubtless, but its fame has not reachedmy ears."
"But it has mine," said Geoffrey, who started and listened withgreat attention.
"It was founded and enriched by Offa, thane of that domain, in theyear of grace 940, and burnt in the second year of our misery, nowthree years agone. In its place stood for a short time the prioryof St. Denys."
"Thou mayest well say 'stood,'" interrupted Geoffrey, "for I hearthat it has also been destroyed by fire."
"By fire also?" said the astonished Lanfranc.
"It is a sad and tragical story," replied Geoffrey, "and it wouldweary you and sadden me to relate it now. Bloodshed and all thehorrors of midnight rapine and warfare are mingled in it, and thereis a deep mystery yet unsolved. Tell me, my brother, wert thou aninmate of St. Wilfred's priory when it was so mysteriouslydestroyed?"
"I was."
"And how didst thou escape?"
"Our prior, the sainted Elphege, despatched me to some of our poorflock, who had taken refuge in the woods, that I might commit onedeeply loved to their care."
"His name?"
"Wilfred of Aescendune. It is on his behalf that I have sought hisgrace the new archbishop, led by his reputation for charity andjustice, but hardly expecting to meet any one here who knew thestory of our misfortunes and wrongs."
"Thou wilt wonder less, perhaps, if thou lookest at me a littlemore closely. Dost thou not remember Geoffrey, Bishop of Coutances,who married Winifred of Aescendune to Hugo de Malville?"
"I do, indeed; and marvel, my lord," said he, "that I recognisedthee not at once; I bear a letter for thee written by hands longsince ashes--by our good Prior Elphege, the night before themonastery was burned."
"Tell me, my brother," said Geoffrey, as he took the letter, "dostthou know who burnt the monastery?"
"I do."
"Who, then? All the world names the youth thou didst save."
"Who would accuse the lamb of devouring the wolf? Hugo, sometimebaron of Aescendune, did the accursed deed."
"Canst thou prove it?"
"When thou hast read the letter, I have yet another document forthee. I had brought both here to submit to my lord of Canterbury."
It was startling to watch Geoffrey as he read the parchment, thevery hairs of his head seemed to erect themselves, and his colourchanged from pale to red, from red to pale again.
"My brother," said Lanfranc, "what dost thou read which sodisturbeth thee?"
"Read it thyself," said he, giving the letter which he had finishedto the primate. "It purports to be the copy of a letter addressedto me three years ago, when I was at Oxenford, but which neverreached me. Oh, what a story of damnable guilt! Tell me, man, wheredidst thou obtain this?"
"I saw the original written by him, whose name it bears at thefoot, and at his request took this copy, which he has attested byhis name, for I was the chief calligrapher of the house of St.Wilfred. It was his last act and deed on earth: within a few hourshe perished in the flames which consumed our poor dwelling."
Here Father Kenelm, not without emotion, handed a second parchmentto Geoffrey.
"And this?" said he of Coutances, interrogatively.
"Is the confession of a dying Norman, which he has attested by hismark, for he could not write his name. I heard his last confession,when, to remove the stain of guilt from the innocent, he made mewrite this statement, and signed it as best he could."
"How didst thou get hold of this, brother?" said the Bishop ofCoutances, feeling himself, to use the expression of the writer,"sick with horror."
"Thou hast heard, my lord, of the destruction of Baron Hugo in theDismal Swamp?"
"Surely; I was at Abingdon when his son Etienne brought the news."
"Only one who entered that swamp, so far as I know, escaped. Halfburnt, he dragged himself out, on our side, from the awfulconflagration, and hid himself till eventide in the woods,suffering greatly.
"That day I had guided young Etienne de Malville from hisconcealment in our midst, to liberty and safety, and as I returnedI heard the groans of a man in severe pain, but which seemed a longdistance away, borne on the night winds which swept the forest.Guided by the sound, I found Guy, son of Roger, and tended him as Ihad tended the son of the wicked baron. He lingered a few days, andthen died of his injuries, leaving me this confession, as his lastact and deed, with full liberty to divulge it when a fitting dayshould arrive."
"But why hast thou not done so before?"
"Because it was not needed; nor could I leave my refuge in thewoods, where I had my own little flock to attend to, the few poorsheep saved from the Norman wolf. Pardon me, for ye are Normans."
"We are Benedictines," said Lanfranc, reprovingly; "English orNormans, the children of our father Benedict are brethren, even asthere is neither Jew nor Gentile, bond nor free, in Christ."
"But why hast thou now come?" said Geoffrey.
"Hast thou not heard that the Camp of Refuge has fallen?"
"And what then?"
"Wilfred of Aescendune was a refugee therein."
"And is he taken?"
"He was sent, together with Egelwin, Bishop of Durham, as prisonerto Abingdon, and will be brought to trial, when William arrivesthere next week, and, unless thou savest him, will undoubtedly diethe death."
"He shall not die," said Geoffrey, "if we can save him. Williammust acquit him if he hear all."
"Acquit him, yes," said Lanfranc, "of sacrilege and parricide; butnot, I fear, of the guilt of rebellion against his lawful king{xxiv}."
"At least, if he must die, let him die freed from the supposedguilt of such awful sacrilege, and let men know to what kind offather King William committed the innocent English lad."
"Most certainly: if we cannot save him from the consequences of hisrash appeal to the sword, we will yet save him from the cord, orworse, the stake, which might be thought the not inappropriatepenalty of the destruction of two successive houses of God byfire."
"The stake! it is too horrible to think of!" said the monk; "thankGod I have not sought thee in vain. Forgive me, my lord, but thelad is very dear to me."
"Nor is my own interest much less keen in him," said Geoffrey. "Ifirst met him at Senlac, where he sought his father's corpse amidstthe slain, and since that time have watched his tragic career notwithout grief."
"But one question remains," spake Lanfranc. "The documents will bedisputed: how shall we prove them genuine?"
"There is much internal evidence; but may not some of the witnessesof the crimes be living? For instance, the Jew, Abraham of Toledo,he who sold the poisons to Hugo?" said Geoffrey.
"He shall be sought for," replied Lanfranc. "Meanwhile, FatherKenelm, thou art my guest, and I must at once commend you to thechamberlain, who will supply all your wants. You need food andrest."
Bowing humbly--his heart full of gratitude--the good oldBenedictine followed the chamberlain, who appeared at the summonsof the primate, to more comfortable lodgings and better fare thanhe had known for years.
