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

by John G. Edgar

While Lanfranc was, as Archbishop of Canterbury, establishing his claims to the primacy of England, the year 1071 witnessed the utter ruin of that great Saxon House of which, in the days of Edward the Confessor, Leofric, Earl of Mercia, had been the head.

Edwin and Morkar, the sons of Algar, and grandsons of Leofric and Godiva, were fair to look upon and pleasant to converse with. They were proud, indeed, but their pride did not detract from their popularity. The people rather thought it became them; for it was well known that, while the immediate forefathers of most Saxon thanes had held the plough or enriched themselves by trade, the Mercian earls could justly boast of a long pedigree. Leofric, the husband of Godiva, was sixth in descent from his renowned ancestor of the same name; and his heirs were all the prouder of the circumstance, that their position had been maintained with honour and dignity, while other families, yielding to wars, revolutions, and confiscations, had ceased to exist or degenerated into ceorles.

Edwin, Earl of Mercia, was considered the handsomest man of his age. With the earldom of Leofric, he had inherited the beauty of Godiva. His frank features, valiant spirit, and engaging manners made him a great favourite with men; and few women, whether peasant girls or princesses, could look without admiration upon his fair face, blue eyes, handsome figure, and the long light hair that flowed over his manly shoulders.

Edwin and Morkar had taken no part in the battle of Hastings. That, however, was no fault of theirs, for Harold, rashly as it would seem, had left London to encounter the Normans before his brothers-in-law could possibly bring up the men of the north to his aid. On reaching London they heard of his defeat and fall.

The idea of aspiring to the vacant throne was not unnatural to men situated as Edwin and Morkar were. They accordingly appeared as candidates for the difficult post of King of England. What might have been the result if one of them had been elected it would be useless to speculate. Sufficient it is to say that the adherents of Edgar Atheling were too resolute to be influenced and too numerous to be overawed. Finding their claims disregarded, Edwin and Morkar took their sister Aldith, the widow of Harold, from the palace of Westminster, escorted her to Chester, and then repaired to York with some dream of separating the northern provinces from the rest of England, and defending them to the death against the Norman invaders.

Events speedily opened the eyes of the northern earls to the absurdity of their project. Almost every day brought to York such intelligence as convinced them that they were pursuing an impolitic course; and when they learned that William the Norman had obtained possession of London and the Confessor's crown, they deemed it prudent to hasten southward to present themselves to the Conqueror, to profess their friendship, and offer their allegiance.

William, well understanding the importance of being recognised as king by such men as Edwin and Morkar, treated the sons of Algar with distinction. Moreover, to insure the fidelity of the two brothers, William promised Edwin one of his daughters in marriage; and, fascinated by the prospects opened up to their view, they remained quietly and submissively at the Conqueror's court. It does not appear to have occurred to them that they were regarded in the light either of captives or of hostages.

As months passed on, however, and William, anxious to display himself on the Continent in his new character, prepared to embark at Pevensey for Normandy, Edwin and Morkar suddenly learned their real position. The Conqueror peremptorily commanded the attendance of the two Saxon earls, and they were fain to obey. But it was with sullen reluctance; and when, after having been duly admired and criticised by the dames and damsels at the court of Rouen, they returned to England, it was with a determination to break their chains without delay.