Wulf the Saxon. G. A. Henty
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“We look finer birds than we did when we rode in with brother Philip,” Beorn laughed when they had attired themselves in their new garments. “The more sober of these suits are a good deal gayer than those we wore at home even at court ceremonies.”
“King Edward objects to show,” Wulf said, “and his own pages are so sober in their attire that the earl likes not that we should outshine them, and we usually cut a poor figure beside those of William of London and the other Normans of his court.”
In a short time the chamberlain came in and informed them that supper was served, and conducted them to the hall, where he presented them to the duke’s gentlemen and pages as William’s guests, and wards and pages of the Earl of Wessex. The news of Harold’s shipwreck and imprisonment travelled quickly, for orders had already been issued for the court to prepare to start early the next morning to accompany the duke to Eu, in order to receive with due honour William’s guest and friend, Harold of England; and while the meal went on many questions were asked as to the shipwreck and prisonment of the earl, and the liveliest indignation was expressed at the conduct of Conrad of Ponthieu.
“Truly all Normans will be reckoned churls,” one of the gentlemen exclaimed indignantly. “The fame of Harold’s bravery, wisdom, and courtesy to all men is known in every court in Europe, and that the duke’s vassal should have dared to imprison and chain him will excite universal indignation. Why, the rudest of our own Norse ancestors would not have so foully treated one so noble whom fate had cast into his hands. Had we been at war with England it would be shameful, but being at peace there are no words that can fitly describe the outrage.”
When the meal was over, one of the duke’s pages who was about the same age as Beorn asked him what they were going to do with themselves.
“If you have nothing better,” he said, “will you ride with me to my father’s castle, it is but five miles away? My name is De Burg. I can promise you a hearty welcome. My father was one of the knights who accompanied the duke when he paid his visit to England some fifteen years ago, and he liked the country much, and has ever since spoken of the princely hospitality with which they were received by your king. He did not meet Earl Harold then.”
“No, the earl with his father and brothers was away in exile,” Wulf said rather shortly, for that visit had been a most unpleasant one to Englishmen. It had happened when the Norman influence was altogether in the ascendant. The king was filling the chief places at court and in the church with Normans, had bestowed wide domains upon them, and their castles were everywhere rising to dominate the land. Englishmen then regarded with hostility this visit of the young Norman duke with his great train of knights, and although at the return of Godwin and his sons the greater portion of the intruders had been driven out, their influence still remained at court, and it was even said that Edward had promised the duke that he should be his successor.
It was true that Englishmen laughed at the promise. The King of England was chosen by the nation, and Edward had no shadow of right to bequeath the throne even to one of his sons much less to a foreign prince, who, although related to himself by marriage, had no drop of English blood in his veins. Still, that the promise should ever have been made rankled in the minds of the English people, the more so as the power of Normandy increased, and the ambition as well as the valour of its duke became more and more manifest According to English law the promise was but an empty breath, absolutely without effect or value. According to Norman law it constituted a powerful claim, and Duke William was assuredly not a man to let such a claim drop unpressed.
Wulf had heard all this again and again, and the prior of Bramber had explained it to him in all its bearings, showing him that little as Englishmen might think of the promise given by Edward so long ago, it would be likely to bring grievous trouble on the land at his death. He might perhaps have said more in reference to William’s visit had not Beorn at once accepted the invitation to ride with young De Burg to his father’s castle.
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