NOBILITY IN CONTRAST.
"Shall show us how divine a thing
A woman may be made."
Wordsworth.
After the stirring episode which ended in the removal from the scene of the brothers Vigneau, and their henchman Pierre, the relationship between the outlawed Saxons and the Normans,—as it related to the domains owned by De Montfort and those contiguous,—became much more amicable and peaceful. The Saxon colony on the mountains boldly advanced to the valley, and took up without molestation the tilling of the soil. The sturdy outlaws whose home had been the greenwood, and their sustenance the chase and plunder, now many of them returned to the peaceful calling they had pursued before the Normans drave them from their homes, and the plots of ground they lived upon. Intercourse between the races became regular and uninterrupted; intermarrying being of frequent occurrence. The Norman lost in great measure his haughty and overbearing manner, and the Saxon hatred of the Norman accordingly abated. The language also began to be a compound of Saxon and Norman, for each nation was driven by the exigencies of combined intercourse to learn a little of the other's language; and before my eyes daily did I witness the interblending of peoples. This was a joy to me, to Oswald, and to Alice; and indeed no one who thoroughly grasped the situation could ever again look for the overthrow of the Normans; and whilst there were wild, untamed, and irreconcilable Saxons, who fomented strife and rebellion, and on the other hand Normans proud, overbearing and cruel, yet there were to me palpable signs that the two races would eventually become one people, to their mutual advantage.
Happy am I also to relate that, through the interposition of Alice, and the kindness and confidence of De Montfort, I was once more restored to the rule of this monastery, and with its privileges and emoluments but little curtailed. Thus was I able to do much towards the reconciling of these two peoples. Thankful also I am to relate that, amid the multitude of claims upon me, I yet had strength and leisure sufficient to write these chronicles.
The kind reader I hope will pardon me this digression, and the little egotism I have indulged in, and I will proceed once more with this history.
De Montfort made no attempt to ignore the deep obligations that Oswald had laid him under; nor did he attempt to interfere with the plighted troth of these two lovers. Still many misgivings arose in his mind, with regard to the attitude his sovereign would assume towards this union. He knew well that if William disapproved of it, his will would have to be law. He debated long with himself the question, whether it would be best to first obtain William's consent to the marriage, or boldly solve the difficulty by uniting the pair and then presenting them to the king. The bolder course was finally adopted, and the day of the nuptials fixed. By the unanimous wish of all concerned, it was determined that the marriage should be celebrated without pomp and wholesale merriment, as was so often the case; but that there should be the rustic games and rural sports so dear to the common people.
So accordingly on the eventful morning the bridal party wended their way through the forest to this sanctuary, which we had decorated for the occasion. As the party passed through the forest with light hearts and joyous, there were others to whom these nuptials had most tragic results. Secreted in the thicket and watching the party go by was one, to whom every note of the joyous bells rang out a knell. Secreted also in another part was one to whom this nuptial act was infamous, and basest treachery; and like a wild beast he waited for an opportunity to spring upon the pair, and with one more wild deed of revenge to accentuate his undying hatred towards the Norman usurper. Soon after the party passed on their way and came near to the Abbey gates, Ethel, muffled and disguised as a peasant woman, stepped from the thicket from which she had watched the party go by, and slowly followed them. But she had not proceeded very far, ere some movement in the thicket attracted her attention, and turning more attentively to observe, she espied Sigurd's stealthy figure gliding amongst the trees with his naked sword in his hand, and evidently dogging the footsteps of the bridal party. A few fleet footsteps brought her abreast of him.
"My lord!" she said, addressing him, "what does this mean?"
"Ethel, is that you? I little thought to see you here," said he, ignoring altogether the question addressed to him.
"I am here, and opportunely my lord, too, if your attitude does not deceive me. What means that naked sword when there are no enemies present?"
"Do you not know," he said in low fierce tones, "what deed is to be done to-day? Oswald completes his infamy by wedding this Norman woman, and I will kill him before this day is done, or henceforth ye shall brand me a coward."
"My lord," said Ethel placing herself before him, "what madness is this that you purpose? Put up that sword, and mark me well! if any evil befall him, and if you dare to injure him or his bride, either now or henceforth, you make of me a mortal enemy, and I will not rest until your crime be punished."
"Ethel, 'tis ye are mad! or else your love at sight of this would be turned to mortal hatred! Would I had not met you this day, then would I have wiped out this stain from the Saxon race."
The power wielded by this beautiful Saxon woman over this untamed warrior was unbounded, and bore eloquent testimony to the depth and purity of his love for her; for without another word of remonstrance he sheathed his sword, and strode away into the depths of the forest.
Then Ethel pursued her journey, following the bridal party into the chapel, and sitting down, quite unnoticed, amid a motley throng of peasant women and Saxon churls, who had gathered to witness the nuptials. The marriage ceremony was designed to be carried out with great privacy, nevertheless there were a few Normans of note gathered there to witness it. There were also some Saxons, who had claim to honoured names and substantial estates, were it not for the greed of these usurpers; but most of these were now at best but fief-holders of their conquerors, and with cowed and brow-beaten looks, they were content to herd with their still more degraded countrymen.
It was manifest to any careful observer also that, amid the few Normans gathered, there was great disapprobation of the rite about to be celebrated; and as the tall muscular Saxon, who had maintained his independence and defied them all, advanced to the altar, they could not forget that the glamour of this man's name had given heart to the Saxons, and that, on innumerable occasions, he had vigorously interposed himself between these tyrants and the objects of their tyranny. To see him now standing side by side with one of the noblest, and one of the most beautiful of their race, was to them bitter as gall. And I could hear distinctly ominous muttering, and the handling of weapons. This, I must confess, was what I had dreaded, and others also, I found, had foreseen it; for at that moment Wulfhere and a sturdy band of Saxons, armed to the teeth, entered the chapel, and boldly took their stand near to the bridal party. At this the exasperation of the Normans was increased, but nevertheless they were distinctly overawed by it, and no further demonstrations of disapproval were made.
Ere the marriage ceremony was completed, and as the monks chaunted the Benedicite, Ethel glided noiselessly from her place in the chapel, and hurried from the grounds. As soon as she was clear of them she turned into an unfrequented path, which led to the heart of the forest. Sigurd had been secreted near, watching for her return, and immediately she was obscured from the gaze of others he joined her.
"Has this Saxon traitor completed his dishonour, by wedding a daughter of the Norman tyrant?" said he.
"Oswald has wedded the fair Norman, and I bestow my blessing on them, for 'tis the herald of peace to our downtrodden race, and an augury of the coming union of our people and the Norman."
"My curses on him and the coward brood of Saxons, who have betrayed their country and, by their submission to the tyrant usurper, have helped to rivet the fetters of bondage upon our race for generations to come!"
"My lord, this is most distasteful to me. I will hear no more of it. You are utterly incapable of understanding them or their motives, it is plain; so desist, once for all, from your unreasoning hatred."
"Whither go ye now, Ethel? and may I go with ye?" said Sigurd humbly.
"I am bound for the Monastery of Crowland, my lord."
"Monastery of Crowland! Never say it, girl! What do ye mean? Ye cannot go there, Ethel! Say ye will not go there, Ethel!" he shrieked, in agonised tones.
"It is quite true, my lord," said Ethel firmly.
"It cannot be, Ethel! Ye' cannot leave us thus! We are undone if ye leave us! Say ye will not go to Crowland! anywhere but there! I thought ye would now forget my fierce and boorish habits, and be my wife. Oswald is wedded, and ye cannot be his. What hinders ye from being my wife? I will be anything ye ask of me, Ethel! I am quite broken now; my spirit is broken. I will make my peace with the Normans, and wear a serf's collar, and let them whip me, cuff me—anything! only say ye will not leave me," he pleaded piteously.
"Alas! my lord, that can never be! My love is dead, and will never more have resurrection in this world. I have no capacity for a new affection. A maiden's heart can be won but once. Do not importune me, my lord, further. The end has come; 'tis a new epoch, and in it there is no place for you and me, and 'tis best we should quietly vanish from the scene."
"Is there no hope, Ethel, that ye will be my bride? Ye'll maybe change some day. I can wait twenty years, if ye bid me."
"There is no hope, my lord. There can be but one other change for me, and that will be when I don the cerements of the tomb."
"No hope, Ethel? No hope?" he slowly and painfully ejaculated, as though each word was a dagger thrust at his heart. "Then I am lost!"
Slowly he drew himself up, expanded his broad chest, and threw abroad his brawny arms, as though about to grapple with an enemy.
"Then," said he, "I'll have a sweet revenge on the Norman foe. I'll give my blood again to the soil I love so well, and get me a warrior's grave. Then, welcome Valhalla! Odin! Odin! Norseman's god!" he cried; "I am coming soon to join the hero spirits, awaiting me in the land beyond the dark and troubled sea."
His head drooped upon his chest, and he covered his face with his hands, whilst his whole frame quivered with emotion. It was the cry of a blind faith, but it was the cry of the soul, and it grappled him to the loving heart of infinite mercy.
Ethel trembled violently at the bitterness of soul displayed by this noble Viking, and the unbidden tears coursed down her cheeks in sympathy with his sorrow.
"Adieu, my lord! May God have mercy upon you," she said in broken and tender accents.
"Nay, Ethel! I'll go with you, I would like to see the door close upon you safe, if it must be. 'Tis not fitting ye should take this journey alone. These Norman dogs are abroad everywhere, and 'tis full of peril for ye to journey alone; they will not respect ye as I do. These Normans have no respect for such as you."
"I am sorry to say I cannot permit this, my lord. It would be both at your peril and my own. Do you not know what a heavy price these Normans have put upon your head?"
"Ah! they have made me a wolfshead truly, but they have not done with me yet, Ethel; not done with me, they will find! Broken in spirit, as I am, I do not fear them; nor do I care what price they have put upon my head. I have nothing to live for, but I will die like a Viking. If it will be a peril to you if I go with you, well, let it be so; but 'tis bitter parting, Ethel."
"Do not fear on my account, my lord. The Abbot Adhelm has made arrangement for two of the monks to bear me company; and their sacred office and my vow will protect both them and myself from the violence of the Normans."
"Shall I never see ye more, Ethel? Never more? Won't ye come sometimes just to have a look at the old hills again? and I'll meet ye, and we'll see how the world fares with you and me. Promise me ye'll come sometimes, Ethel, and let me look upon your sweet face. I've nought to live for but you!"
Ethel was deeply moved at Sigurd's importunity, but she said,—
"My lord, I cannot hope to meet you any more on earth; but I will venture to hope and pray that, when our God, who is a God infinite in mercy and compassion, shall strike the balance betwixt right and wrong, between high ideals and a grovelling ambition—in short, when He shall 'judge the world in righteousness,' He will find that the recording angel has made many an entry to your account, and blurred out many a fault with his tears; and that after all it will be found that your erring but sturdy virtues outweigh by far your many faults, and the limitations of your life. Then we shall meet again beyond the grave, where we shall see eye to eye, and 'where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest.' Once more adieu, my lord!" So saying, she sped on her way.
Sigurd stood silently watching her retreating form until she disappeared from view, and for several minutes he still stood gazing after her like one bereft, whilst his massive frame was shaken with powerful emotions. Then slowly he muttered to himself: "The sun is set upon all my hopes; my day is done, and all is lost, save love of country and revenge. I cannot, like this Oswald, bend and crouch. A Viking once a Viking for ever." Then, turning round, he crashed into the forest.