King Edgar was twice married. By his first wife he had issue, Edward, who at a very early age became his successor, and who is known in history as King Edward the Martyr.
The second wife of Edgar was Elfrida, daughter of Ordgar, Earl of Devonshire. It is related that the fame of her transcendent beauty having reached the King’s ears, he sent one of his earls, named Athelwold, to visit her father and ascertain privately whether her charms were as great as they had been represented. Athelwold saw her, and, immediately becoming enamoured, made a false report to his sovereign, and won her for himself. Rumours, however, that he had been deceived, soon reached the King, and he determined to ascertain the truth with his own eyes. Alarmed at the impending danger, Athelwold entreated his wife to adopt some means of disguising her charms; but Elfrida had now an opportunity of gratifying her ambition. She exerted all her powers to increase her natural beauty, and succeeded in attracting the attention of the King. To get rid of Athelwold was in those days the simplest of transactions, and King Edgar, having caused Athelwold to be assassinated in a wood, Elfrida became his Queen. So great was the King’s love for Elfrida that he is said to have granted the whole county of Dorset for her dowry. But Elfrida had not yet reached the height of her ambition. It was not sufficient for her to have become a queen through assassination, for she scrupled not, after her husband’s death, also by means of assassination, to make a king of her own son. In the month of March (978) Edward the Martyr, as he is now called, was hunting in a large wood near Wareham. Towards evening he resolved to pay a visit to his brother, who resided at the Castle with their royal mother. The attendants of the King had been dispersed in the chase; he was alone, and Elfrida, having notice of this favourable opportunity, came forth in a most affable and friendly manner, inviting him to alight from his horse. This he declined to do, and remained at the gate, expressing his desire to see his brother. The Queen then called for wine, which he had scarce put to his lips when one of her attendants, who had given the King the kiss of peace, stabbed him in the back. Some of the ancient chroniclers affirm that Elfrida herself gave him both the kiss and the mortal wound whilst he was drinking. In any case, finding himself wounded, the King rode away; but, fainting from loss of blood, he fell from his horse, and, his foot being entangled in the stirrup, he was dragged a considerable distance, until the horse stopped of its own accord at a bridge which crosses the small river that flows at the foot of the hill on which the Castle stands. A servant, sent by Elfrida to ascertain the result of her treachery, found the murdered Prince dead, and terribly defaced by the flints over which he had been dragged. The Queen, to conceal the fact, ordered his body to be lodged in a house near where it was, and covered with such mean clothes as were at hand.
Of course, there are plenty of miraculous stories attached to this true history, of which we in this twentieth century may believe as much or as little as we like. It is said, for instance, that in the house where King Edward’s body lay lived a woman who was born blind, but at midnight she found her sight restored, and, to her great terror, her house was full of light. In the morning, the Queen, being informed of these circumstances, and fearing a discovery, ordered the body to be thrown into a well. She then retired to a mansion called Bere, ten miles distant. Her own son, Ethelred, on expressing his grief at his mother’s inhuman act, received a severe beating from her with some large wax tapers, they being the first weapons which the royal mother could lay her hands on wherewith to chastise her son.
In the year following, a second miracle is said to have taken place—a pillar of fire descended from above and illuminated the place where the body was hidden. Some devout people of Wareham brought it to the church of St. Mary in that town, and buried it in a plain manner.
As for the once beautiful but now guilty Elfrida, it is related that she became extremely penitent, and, abdicating her regal state, retired to the Abbey of Wherwell, in Hampshire, which she had founded, and there, having clothed her body in hair-cloth, for many years slept at night on the ground without a pillow, and mortified her flesh with every kind of penance.
We meet with few incidents of an important character connected with Corfe Castle during the first six reigns after the Norman Conquest.
During the eventful reign of the tyrannical John (1199-1216) Corfe Castle became again a royal residence. The King deposited within its walls his treasure and regalia, using the Castle also for the confinement of State prisoners, the objects of his jealousy and revenge. In the year 1202 King John took prisoners at the Castle of Mirabel in Poitou, in France, the youthful Prince Arthur, Duke of Brittany, his nephew, together with his sister, the Princess Eleanor. It must be remembered that this Prince Arthur, being the only son of John’s elder brother, Geoffrey, was the real heir to the throne after the death of Richard Cœur de Lion. Prince Arthur is supposed to have been murdered at Rouen by order of King John; but the Princess (sometimes called the “Damsel of Bretagne,” and sometimes from her personal attractions, the “Beauty of Brittany”), having inherited her brother’s legal right to the throne, was brought to England and kept a close prisoner for the rest of her life. For some time she was a prisoner in Corfe Castle, where she remained at the decease of her uncle, King John. Two other princesses shared the captivity of the beautiful and high-spirited Eleanor during her residence at Corfe, and were her companions there. These were Margery and Isabel, the two daughters of William, King of Scotland. Some curious and interesting details have come down to us respecting articles supplied for the use of the royal ladies whilst they remained at Corfe Castle, which show that they enjoyed many indulgences. For instance, on June 29th, 1213, the Mayor and Reeves of Winchester were commanded to supply to the Queen, the King’s niece, and the two daughters of the King of Scotland who were at Corfe Castle, such robes and caps and all other things necessary for the vestment as should be demanded (the cost to be repaid out of the King’s Exchequer). There is another interesting entry on July 6th, 1213: The Mayor of Winchester was commanded to send in haste to the King, for the use of his niece, Eleanor, and the two daughters of the King of Scotland, robes of dark green, namely, tunics and super-tunics, with capes of cambric and fur of Minever and twenty-three yards of good linen cloth; also, for the King’s niece, one good cap of dark brown, furred with Minever, and one hood for rainy weather, for the use of the same; besides robes of bright green, for the use of their three waiting-maids; also tunics and super-tunics and cloaks with capes of Minever or rabbit-skins and furs of lamb-skins, and thin shoes, for the use of the daughters of the King of Scotland, the King’s niece, and her three waiting-maids; also, for the use of the King’s niece, one saddle, with gilded reins; and the Mayor is to come himself with all the above articles to Corfe, there to receive the money for the cost of the same. A little later on, another cap for rainy weather, a riding saddle, shoes, and sixty yards of linen cloth, are ordered to be supplied from Winchester.
The prices paid give us an insight into the value of money at that period:—
| £ | s. | d. | |
|---|---|---|---|
| A silken couch | 1 | 10 | 1 |
| 2 coverlets of fine linen | 2 | 2 | 1 |
| 6½ yards of scarlet for coverlets | 1 | 3 | 0 |
| 1 fur of lamb-skin | 0 | 4 | 0 |
Ten shillings a day were allowed to the Sheriff for the Princesses’ maintenance.