Danes, Saxons and Normans; or, Stories of our ancestors

The appearance of this person was the reverse of prepossessing. His stature was mean, his figure was ungraceful, his face florid, his forehead shaped like a window, his hair fiery red, and his countenance, which had not a redeeming feature, was deformed by a disagreeable defect in the eyes. It was William Rufus, the Conqueror's second son, on his way to seize the English throne.

On setting foot in England, Rufus hastened to Winchester, presented himself to the treasurer, and gained that officer over to his views. Having obtained the keys of the treasury, he found much silver and gold, and a quantity of jewels. Upon weighing these carefully, and taking an inventory, he succeeded in gaining the support of Lanfranc; and, having prevailed on the Norman barons then in England to recognise him as king, he was crowned by the archbishop in the cathedral of Winchester.

It would seem that at this stage Rufus apprehended some danger from the enmity of the Saxons. At all events, his first act of royal authority was directed against men of the vanquished race. In accordance with the Conqueror's dying command, four captives of high rank had been restored to liberty. These were Roger Fitzosborne, Odo of Bayeux, Wulnoth, brother of Harold, and Morkar, brother of Edwin. Of these, Rufus ordered Wulnoth and Morkar to be seized, and again committed to prison at Winchester.

Events soon occurred to convince the Red King that he had mistaken the quarter whence danger was to come. In fact, the Norman barons, who had assembled at Rouen, were furious at the intelligence of a coronation having taken place without their consent, and, ere long, they reached England, breathing defiance and threatening vengeance. Soon a party was formed with the avowed resolution of pulling Rufus from the throne, and placing the crown of England on Curthose's head.

At the head of this party figured Odo, the fierce and haughty Bishop of Bayeux, now released from prison. Owing Lanfranc an old grudge, and willing to pay the debt with interest, Odo exerted all his influence to destroy the settlement of which the archbishop was author, and proved so successful in his efforts that a formidable conspiracy was formed with that object. Day by day it was strengthened by the names of powerful nobles and influential churchmen. Hugh de Grantmesnil, Robert Mortain, Earl of Cornwall; Robert Montgomery, Earl of Shrewsbury; Robert Moubray, Earl of Northumberland; and William Carilif, Bishop of Durham, were among the many eminent personages who vowed to place Curthose on the Conqueror's throne. With the object of perplexing the movements of Rufus while awaiting the coming of Curthose, they fortified themselves in different parts of the country. Hugh de Grantmesnil fortified himself in Leicester; the Earl of Cornwall posted himself at Pevensey; the Earl of Shrewsbury held Norwich; the Earl of Northumberland seized Bristol; William Carilif occupied the castle of Durham; and Odo himself took possession of the castle of Rochester. The banners of the insurgents waved from hundreds of other strongholds; and they only awaited the arrival of Curthose to strike a decisive blow.

The position of Rufus appeared somewhat perilous. Left to his own resources he must have fallen from the throne he so unworthily occupied. But the circumstance of having a minister of such wisdom and experience as Lanfranc at his side considerably altered the case; and, acting under the auspices of the archbishop, Rufus took the only step likely to save him from impending ruin.

In passing through England, as it then was, foreigners were surprised, after passing the Norman fortresses, which on every height frowned with heavy, massive, and gloomy turrets, to come, ever and anon, on two-storied houses, quite unfortified, and standing in the midst of parks, through which, watched by the herdsmen, herds and flocks grazed in security. These were the seats of such Saxons of consideration as had escaped the Norman sword; not mighty chiefs, like Edwin or Cospatrick, but thanes who, perhaps, had been too proud to march under the banner of the son of Godwin; men who had not, for years, wandered out from the shadow of their paternal oaks; whom isolation had rendered eccentric, and whom oppression had rendered irascible.

In the hour of need, Rufus was reminded of these Saxon thanes, who had long been exclaiming over their cups against Norman tyranny, summoned them to his court, asked their counsels, and promised, in the event of their rendering aid, to restore to them the right of carrying arms, and the privileges of the chase. The simple Saxons fell into the snare, gave credit to his frank assurances, and issued to the natives a proclamation couched in the words to which the Saxons had been long accustomed.

"Let every man," such were the words – "let every man that is not a nothing, whether in the town or country, leave his house and come."

The appeal was not made in vain. At the time and place appointed thirty thousand Saxons rallied round the Red King's banner.

It was at the head of this body of men, who were mostly on foot, that William, with some Norman cavalry, marched towards Rochester, where Odo of Bayeux was strongly posted. The Saxons, to whom Odo was peculiarly odious, displayed great eagerness for the strife, vowed vengeance against the oppressors, and beleaguered Rochester on all sides. Closely pressed, the Bishop of Bayeux and his friends soon offered to yield, and to acknowledge Rufus as King, on condition of being allowed to retain their honours and their lands. Rufus, who was brave, though his courage somewhat resembled that of a wild beast, at first refused to listen to such terms. But the Normans in his army, having no mind to slaughter their friends and kinsmen, pressed him to accede.

"We, who have aided thee in this danger," said they, "pray thee to spare our countrymen and relatives, who are also thine, and who aided thy father to conquer England."

"Well," said Rufus, yielding to their representations, "I will grant them liberty to depart with arms and horses."

"But," said Odo, "we must stipulate that the king's military music shall not play in token of victory at our departure."

"By St. Luke's face!" exclaimed Rufus, fiercely, on hearing of this demand, "I will not make any such concession for a thousand gold marks."

Accordingly, when Odo and his friends left Rochester, with colours lowered, the royal trumpets sounded in token of victory; but far louder were the clamours that arose from the assembled Saxons.

"Bring us cords!" some cried; "we will hang this traitor bishop, with all his accomplices!"

"O king!" cried others, "why dost thou let him go free? He is not worthy to live – the traitor, the perjurer, the murderer of so many thousand men."

The war, after raging for some time longer, was terminated by a treaty. Curthose was bribed with a grant of land and with a promise of succeeding to the crown in the event of his surviving Rufus; while his adherents were pardoned and returned to their estates. But how did Rufus treat the Anglo-Saxons who had secured him victory? How did he fulfil the promises made to the Saxon chiefs who had brought their countrymen around him in the hour of need?

No sooner was the war at an end than Rufus became infinitely more tyrannical than ever his father had been. In vain Lanfranc, who had, as it were, stood sponsor, reminded the Red King of the pledges he had given.

"Remember your promises," said the venerable prelate.

"Tush!" stammered out Rufus; "how can a king keep all the promises he makes?"

Lanfranc was horrified. Dumb with amazement at the idea of solemn engagements, for which he had stood security, being thus repudiated, the archbishop retired into privacy, and soon after went the way of all flesh. The death of Lanfranc was regarded as a national calamity; and the Red King, freed from all restraint, and pursuing his career without scruple and without fear, lived like a scoundrel, and reigned like a tyrant.

Rufus seems to have had as little sympathy with the sentiments of that gallant French monarch who said that "society without ladies would be like the year without the spring; or, rather, like spring without the flowers," as with the sentiment of another French monarch, who said that, "if good faith were banished from all the rest of the world, it should still be found in the breasts of kings." No gentle wife had the Red King to exercise a softening influence on his harsh heart. From the first he was a confirmed bachelor, and his morals were dissolute in the extreme. It is true that at the court of Winchester no mediæval Diana of Poictiers or Madame Pompadour scandalized the grave and decorous by the spectacle of an abandoned woman, arrayed in purple and fine linen, enjoying a degree of royal favour not vouchsafed to a wedded wife. But Rufus indulged without restraint in amours with females too obscure to be mentioned by chroniclers; and such was the reputation of the king's court that, when he made progresses through England, women who had not discarded decency left their homes to save their honour, and took refuge in the depths of the forests.

At the same time the country through which the Red King passed was ruthlessly ravaged by his train. Goods and provisions were lawlessly seized; and such was the spirit of the courtiers that, when they found in the houses of the Saxons more than they could consume, they amused themselves by giving articles of food to the flames, and using wine to wash the feet of their horses.

Another kind of oppression was heavily felt by the vanquished race. The king deemed it necessary to construct a new wall round the Tower, to build a bridge over the Thames, and to add a great hall to the palace of Westminster. All around London men were taxed, and bands of labourers were forcibly compelled to take part in the works. Murmurs and complaints were frequent; but murmurs were useless and complaints unavailing.

In fact, under the government of the Red King, the affairs of England were conducted without the least reference to the feelings of those to whom he owed his throne. Deep, of course, was the discontent.

"Every year that passed," says the chronicler, "was heavy and full of sorrow, on account of the vexations without number, and the multiplied taxes."

XLVII.

RUFUS AND THE JEWS

AMONG the evils which the Saxons associated with the Norman Conquest, not the least was the introduction, by William the Conqueror, of a considerable number of Jews into England. Doubtless, ere that event, the fame of their wealth, and of the atrocious means by which it had been acquired, had preceded them. But their arrival from Rouen caused much dismay. Accounts of their usury, their traffic in human beings, and the insults offered by them to the Christian religion, were carried through the land, and so influenced the popular mind, that, of all the nations of modern Europe, the Anglo-Saxons learned most thoroughly to despise the degraded remnants of the chosen people. There was something about the appearance of men of Hebrew race which raised involuntary antipathy in the breasts of the inhabitants of England; and wherever the face of a Jew appeared, with the sensual lip, the sharp, hooked nose, and features the reverse of beautiful, hands instinctively clenched and lips curled with scorn.

The Red King did not share the prejudices of his Saxon subjects. Being an infidel, he could not think the worse of them because they were not Christians; and being a spendthrift, he was glad to avail himself of their wealth, without particularly inquiring into the nefarious means by which it had been acquired. In any case, Rufus gave the Jews considerable encouragement in matters of religion; and, whenever an opportunity occurred, he showed that he was not above pocketing their gold.

It appears that on one occasion the Red King even consented to a disputation being held in his presence between Jews and Christians. Before the arrival of the day appointed, the Jews came to Rufus, laid rich presents at his feet, and implored him to insure them a fair and impartial hearing.

"Doubtless," he answered; "and you must quit yourselves like men."

"Assuredly," said the Jews.

"And if you prevail in argument," exclaimed Rufus, "I swear by St. Luke's face that I myself will turn Jew, and be of your religion."

This disputation, like most disputations of the kind, came to nought, and Rufus was not called upon to redeem his pledge of becoming a convert. He did, however, contrive to turn the conversion of others to account. When a Jew happened to be brought to a knowledge of the truth, Rufus was quite ready, on certain terms, to lay his commands on the convert to return to Judaism. In this way, which ill became the king of a Christian people, he obtained considerable sums of money.

On one occasion a wealthy old Jew, whose son had seen the error of his ways, and embraced Christianity, appeared at the king's court, told his tale of woe, and entreated assistance.

"I am sore troubled," said the Hebrew; "I am bowed down with grief. O king," he continued, presenting Rufus with sixty marks, "command my son to return to the faith of his fathers."

"Ay," said Rufus, clutching the money; "bring your son to me, and I will bring him to reason."

The old Jew retired, and soon after returned with his son. The young Israelite, however, was unabashed as he entered the Red King's presence, conscious of the goodness of his cause.

"Young man," said Rufus, by way of settling the business in as few words as possible, "I command you, without delay, to return to the religion of your nation."

"King," said the young Israelite, in a tone of mournful reproach, "I marvel that you can give such advice. Being a Christian, you ought to feel it your duty rather to persuade me to remain steadfast to Christianity."

"Dog!" stammered out Rufus, in a loud tone; "get out of my sight without delay, or it will be the worse for thee."

The convert went his way, and the old Jew remained, deeply mortified at the result of the royal mediation, for which he had paid so high a price. But even at that instant his intense love of gold, prevailing over all considerations of propriety, prompted an attempt to recover his sixty marks.

"Since, O king," he said, "you have not persuaded my son to return to his religion, it would be but fair to restore to me the gold I gave to that end."

"Nay," answered the king, with his usual oath; "I have taken trouble enough, and have done work enough, for the gold, and more. And yet I would like to show you how kindly I can deal. Therefore you shall have one-half of the sixty marks, and in conscience you cannot deny me the other."

XLVIII.

RUFUS AND THE SCOTS

While William Rufus, having set honour and decency at defiance, was playing the part of a tyrant and oppressor in England, he ever and anon gave indications, not to be mistaken, of a desire to play the part of a usurper in Normandy.

Repairing to the Continent, with some idea of taking possession of his brother's duchy, Rufus expelled from Normandy the unfortunate heir of the Saxon kings, who had returned from Apulia. Homeless and well-nigh desperate, Edgar Atheling once more sought refuge in Scotland; and Malcolm Canmore, irritated, perhaps, at the treatment with which his brother-in-law had met, resolved on making Rufus feel his enmity.

"Years since," said the King of Scots, "I was fain to recognise William the Norman as my liege lord; and I acknowledge Robert Curthose as the heir of William the Norman; but as for this Red King, I can only recognise him as a usurper, and he shall only know me as a foe."

Rufus was still in Normandy, when intelligence reached him that Malcolm, accompanied by the Atheling, had, in the month of May, 1091, crossed the frontier; and he was seriously alarmed at tidings of an invasion that might lead to important consequences. Under such circumstances he perceived the policy of going craftily to work; and, after patching up a peace with his brother Robert, prevailed on the Norman duke to attend him to England, and aid in bringing Malcolm to reason. It was in the autumn of 1091 when, with Curthose by his side, an army at his back, and a fleet at sea, Rufus moved northward to try conclusions with the royal Scot.

On hearing of the approach of the King of England, Malcolm fell back in some dismay. Nevertheless, Rufus was not quite in a position to congratulate himself on the success of his expedition. In fact, everything went wrong. The weather proved altogether unfavourable. Before the close of September, the English fleet was destroyed by a storm; and, soon after Michaelmas, the army began to suffer so fearfully from cold and want, that there appeared little prospect of the enterprise having other than a disastrous termination.

While such was the state of affairs, Malcolm Canmore, turning to bay, sent a messenger to the English camp with expressions of friendship to Curthose, and of scornful defiance to Rufus. Curthose, however, with characteristic generosity, stood firmly by Rufus at this crisis. Mounting his steed, he rode to the Scottish camp, had an interview with Edgar Atheling, persuaded the Saxon prince that, for all parties, peace was the wisest policy, and finally succeeded in negotiating a treaty between the two kings.

Rufus now deemed himself secured against Malcolm's hostility; and scarcely had Curthose rendered this service when the Norman duke began to experience the gross ingratitude of the Red King. In utter disgust, Curthose resolved forthwith to leave England, and, crossing the sea, he established himself at Rouen with the intention of securing himself against further hostility.

Meanwhile Rufus, while keeping his court at Gloucester, fell so sick, that physicians despaired of his life. Stretched on a bed of suffering, the Red King became extremely penitent and anxious to atone for his sins. While in this frame of mind, William invited Malcolm Canmore to come and settle all disputes. But ere the King of Scots reached Gloucester, Rufus was in a fair way of recovering, and in no mood to sacrifice either to justice or righteousness. Without even condescending to see Malcolm, he disdainfully ordered him to submit his disputes to his peers, the Anglo-Norman nobles; and Malcolm – his blood boiling at the treatment with which he had met – returned home, vowing to make the Red King repent his insolence.

No sooner, accordingly, did Malcolm reach Scotland, than he assembled a great army, and marched towards England. Attended by his eldest son, Edward, he entered Northumberland, ravaged the country with fire and sword, advanced as far as Alnwick, invested the castle of Ivo de Vesci, and besieged that stronghold so closely that the garrison lost all hope.

It was the month of November, 1093 – a Sunday, and the day of St. Brice. The rain had fallen in torrents; the river Alne was in flood; and the garrison had given way to perplexity and despair. No chance of the siege being raised, or of escape by any other means, could be entertained; and the remembrance of the savage cruelty of the Scots under Malcolm, twenty years earlier, filled every heart with consternation. In this emergency, Hammond Morael, of Bamburgh, a soldier of courage and determination, undertook to deliver the garrison, or die in the attempt. Mounting a fleet steed, he issued from the castle, and, carrying the keys on the point of his spear, he rode towards the Scottish camp. On being challenged, he professed his willingness to surrender the keys of the fortress, but demanded permission to present them to the King of Scots in person. Malcolm, informed of Hammond's approach, immediately came forth; and Morael, spurring forward, pierced the Scottish king through the heart.

A loud cry arose as Malcolm fell, and the Scotch camp was in commotion. Hammond, however, had well calculated his danger and his chances of escape. Turning rein without the delay of an instant, he gave his horse the spur, galloped towards a wood, made for the Alne, then swollen with rain, and, dashing in at all hazards, escaped by swimming the river at a place long afterwards known as "Hammond's Ford."

While the Scots, amazed at the unexpected fall of their king, were in confusion, the soldiers forming the garrison of Alnwick availed themselves of the circumstance. Sallying, they made a fierce attack; and the Scots, put to the rout, either fell by the sword, or were drowned in attempting to pass the river. Among the warriors slain on this occasion was Malcolm's son Edward, a young prince of great promise.

The rout of the Scots was so sudden, and their dispersion so complete, that the victors, without opposition, took possession of Malcolm's body. But though left in the hands of the foe, the corpse was not denied a Christian's grave. Placed in a cart by the Northumbrians, it was conveyed to Tynemouth, and there laid, with funereal honours, in the priory of St. Oswin, a famous religious house, which Robert de Moubray had wrested from the monks of St. Cuthbert, and bestowed on the monks of St. Alban's.

In the meantime, news that Malcolm and his son had fallen at Alnwick reached the Scottish court, and overwhelmed Queen Margaret with grief. Nothing seemed sufficient to console the royal lady for the loss she had sustained. Indeed, she is said to have prayed that she might not survive them, and to have expired within three days of the catastrophe which made her a widow.

The children of Malcolm Canmore and Margaret Atheling, when thus deprived of both parents, were in no enviable plight. The courtiers, being for the most part Normans and Saxons, were regarded and hated by the Scots as strangers or foreigners; and the only man capable of protecting the royal children was their uncle, Donald Bane. But that prince proved the reverse of generous. Instead of maintaining the interests of the eldest of his nephews, he resolved on availing himself of his nephew's nonage to seize the crown.

It was not difficult for Donald Bane to realize his aspirations. The prejudices of the Scots as to the laws of succession, and the claims of Magnus, King of Norway, were in his favour. Without scruple he gratified the patriotism of the Scots by declaring for the banishment of all Normans and Saxons; and at the same time he purchased the support of the Norwegian king by ceding to him the Western Isles. Having thus strengthened his claims, Donald Bane mounted the Scottish throne.

When affairs reached this stage, the Normans and Saxons escaped from Scotland with all convenient speed. With Normans and Saxons to England went Edgar Atheling; and with Atheling, to the country over which his sires had reigned, went the children of Malcolm and Margaret, to seek refuge in the land of their maternal ancestors till the occurrence of events calculated to lead to their restoration to home and country.

XLIX.

ROBERT DE MOUBRAY

About the spring of 1095, William Rufus was menaced with ruin. It was Robert de Moubray, Earl of Northumberland – a man who possessed two hundred and eighty manors – whose influence the Red King now had to dread.

Not without bitter grumbling had the Norman barons hitherto submitted to the law by which the Norman king retained the exclusive right of hunting in the forests of England. Nevertheless, this privilege was maintained by Rufus as vigorously as ever it had been by the mighty Conqueror. The Saxons contemptuously called him "The Wild Beast Herd," while the Normans conspired to take off his crown, and place it on the head of Stephen, Earl of Albemarle, son of the Conqueror's sister. At the head of this conspiracy, which included several of the highest Norman nobles, Robert de Moubray nobly placed himself.

Rufus was not altogether unaware of the conspiracy formed by the Anglo-Norman barons to overturn the throne. Indeed, Moubray drew suspicion on himself by failing to appear at court on the occasion of a great assembly of knights and barons at Easter. In order to bring matters to a crisis, Rufus issued a proclamation that, at the feast of Whitsuntide, every great landholder should attend, or be excluded from the public peace. Moubray, instead of presenting himself, sent Rufus a message, which sounded like a defiance.

"I will not attend," said the Norman earl, "unless the king sends me hostages, and a safe-conduct to protect me going and returning."

"By St. Luke's face!" cried Rufus, stammering with rage, "if he will not come to me, I will go to him!"