Read Ebook: Edwy the Fair or the First Chronicle of Aescendune A Tale of the Days of Saint Dunstan by Crake A D Augustine David

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Ebook has 1857 lines and 78725 words, and 38 pages

"Our father is the Thane of Aescendune. His hall is not far from here. Will you not go home with us? We have plenty of room for you and yours."

"To be sure I will. Aescendune? I have heard the name: I can't remember where. Have you horses?"

"No; we were hunting on foot, and expecting to let fly our shafts at some deer. May I ask, in return, the name of our guest?"

Before the youth could answer, one of the attendants strode forward, and with an air of importance replied, "You are about to receive the honour of a visit from the future lord of Britain, Prince Edwy."

"Keep your lips closed till I give you leave to open them, Guthred. You may leave me to announce myself.

"I shall be only too glad to go with you both; and these two huntsmen deserve to be left in the forest to the mercy of your wolves."

Somewhat startled to find that they had saved the future Basileus or King of Britain--the hope of the royal line of Cerdic--the brothers led their guest through the darkening forest until the distant light of a clearing appeared in the west, and they emerged from the shadow of the trees upon the brow of a gentle hill.

Below them lay the castle of their father the Thane of Aescendune. Utterly unlike the castellated buildings which, at a later period, formed the dwellings of the proud Norman nobility, it was a low irregular building, the lower parts of which were of stone, and the upper portions, when there was a second story, of thick timber from the forest.

A river, from which the evening mist was slowly rising, lay beyond, and supplied water to a moat which surrounded the edifice, for in those troublous times few country dwellings lacked such necessary protection. The memory of the Danish invasions was too recent; the marauders of either nation still lurked in the far recesses of the forest, and plundered the Saxon inhabitant or the Danish settler indiscriminately, as occasion served.

On the inner side of the moat a strong palisade of timber completed the defence. One portal, opening upon a drawbridge, formed the sole apparent means of ingress or egress.

Passing the drawbridge unquestioned, the boys entered the courtyard, around which the chief apartments were grouped. Before them a flight of stone steps led to the great hall where all the members of the community took their meals in common, and where, around the great fire, they wiled away the slow hours of a winter evening.

On each side of the great hall stood the bowers, as the small dormitories were called, furnished very simply for the use of the higher domestics with small round tables, common stools, and beds in recesses like boxes or cupboards. Such were commonly the only sleeping chambers, but at Aescendune, as generally in the halls of the rich, a wide staircase conducted to a gallery above, from each side of which opened sleeping and sitting apartments allotted to the use of the family. It was only in the houses of the wealthy that such an upper floor was found.

On the right hand, as they entered the courtyard, stood the private chapel of the household, where mass was said by the chaplain, to whom allusion has been already made, as the first duty of the day, and where each night generally saw the household again assembled for compline or evening prayers. On the left hand were domestic offices.

Upon the steps of his hall stood Ella, the Thane of Aescendune, the representative of a long line of warlike ancestors, who had occupied the soil since the Saxon conquest of Mercia.

He was clad in a woollen tunic reaching to the knee, over which a cloak fastened by a clasp of gold was loosely thrown; and his feet were clad in black pointed boots, while strips of painted leather were wound over red stockings from the knee to the ankle.

"You are late, my sons," he said, "and I perceive you have brought us a visitor. He is welcome."

"Father," said Elfric, in a voice somewhat expressive of awe, "it is Prince Edwy!"

The thane had in his earlier days been at court, and had known the murdered Edmund, the royal father of his guest, intimately. It was not without emotion, therefore, that he welcomed the son to his home, and saluted him with that manly yet reverential homage their relative positions required of him.

"Welcome, thrice welcome, my prince," he said, "to these humble halls." He added, with some emotion, "I could think the royal Edmund stood before me, as I knew him while yet myself a youth."

The domestics, who had assembled, gazed upon their visitor with country curiosity, yet were not wanting in rude but expressive courtesy; and soon he was conducted to the best chamber the house afforded, where change of raiment and every comfort within the reach of his host was provided, while the cooks were charged to make sumptuous additions to the approaching supper.

The earlier fortunes of the house of Aescendune must here obtrude themselves upon the notice of the reader, in order that he may more easily comprehend the subsequent pages of our veritable history.

Sebbald, the remote ancestor of the family, was amongst the earliest Saxon conquerors of Mercia. He fell in battle with the Britons, or Welshmen as our ancestors called them, leaving sons valiant as their sire, to whom were given the fertile lands lying between the river Avon and the mighty midland forests, to which they gave the name "Aescendune."

They had held their own for three hundred years with varying fortunes; once or twice home and hearth were desolated by the fierce tide of Danish invasion, but the wars subsided, and the old family resumed its position, amidst the joy of their dependants and serfs, to whom they were endeared by a thousand memories of past benefits.

But a generation only had passed since the shadow of a great woe fell on the family of Aescendune.

Offa, who was then the thane, had two sons, Oswald the elder, and Ella the younger, with whom our readers are already acquainted.

The elder possessed few of the family virtues save brute courage. He was ever rebellious, even in boyhood, and arrived at man's estate in the midst of unsettled times of war and tumult. Weary of the restraints of home, he joined a band of Danish marauders, and shared their victories, enriching himself with the spoils of his own countrymen. Thus he remained an outlaw, for his father disowned him in consequence of his crime, until, fighting against his own people in the great battle of Brunanburgh, where Athelstane so gloriously conquered the allied Danes, Scots, and Welsh, he was taken prisoner.

The victor king sat in judgment upon the recreant, surrounded by his chief nobility and vassal kings. The guilt of the prisoner was evident, nay undenied, and the respect in which his sire was held alone delayed the doom of a cruel death from being pronounced upon him.

While the council yet deliberated, Offa appeared amongst them, and, like a second Brutus, took his place amongst his peers. Disclaiming all personal interest in the matter, he sternly proposed that the claims of justice should be satisfied.

Yet they hesitated to shed Oswald's blood: the alternative they adopted was perhaps not more merciful--although a common doom in those times. They selected a crazy worm-eaten boat, and sent the criminal to sea, without sail, oar, or rudder, with a loaf of bread and cruse of water, the wind blowing freshly from off the land.

Oswald was never heard of again; but after his supposed death, information was brought to his father that the outlaw had been married to a Danish woman, and had left a son--an orphan--for the mother died in childbirth.

Offa resolved to seek the boy, and to adopt him, as if in reparation for the past. The effort he had made had cost him a bitter pang, and the father's heart was well-nigh broken. For a time the inquiries were unsuccessful. It was discovered that the mother was dead, that she had died before the tragedy, but not a word could be learned respecting the boy, and many had begun to doubt his existence, when, after years had elapsed, one of the executioners of the cruel doom deposed on his deathbed that a boy of some ten summers had appeared on the beach, had called the victim "father," and had so persistently entreated to share his doom, that they had allowed him to do so, but had concealed the fact, rightly fearing blame, if not punishment. The priest who had attended his dying bed, and heard his last confession, bore the tidings to Offa at the penitent's desire.

The old thane never seemed to lift up his head again: the sacrifice his sense of duty had exacted from him had been too great for a heart naturally full of domestic affection, and he sank and died after a few months in the arms of his younger and beloved son Ella.

The foundation of the neighbouring priory and church of St. Wilfred had been the consolation of his later years, but the work was only half completed at his death. It was carried on with equal zeal by Ella, now the Thane of Aescendune.

He married Edith, the daughter of a rich thane of Wessex, and the marriage proved a most happy one.

Sincerely religious, after the fashion of their day, they honoured God with their substance, enriched the church of St. Wilfred, where the dust of the aged Offa awaited the resurrection of the just, and continued the labour of building the priory. Day after day they were constant in their attendance at mass and evensong, and strove to live as foster parents to their dependants and serfs.

The chief man in his hundred, Ella acted as reeve or magistrate, holding his court for the administration of justice each month, and giving such just judgment as became one who had the fear of God before him. No appeal was ever made from him to the ealdorman or scirgerefa and the wisdom and mercy of his rule were universally renowned.

His land was partly cultivated by his own theows, who were in those days slaves attached to the soil, and partly let out to free husbandmen who owed their lord rent in kind or in money, and paid him, as "his men," feudal service.

Around his hospitable board the poor of the district found sustenance, while work was made for all in draining meres, mending roads, building the priory, or in the various agricultural labours of the year.

In the first year of King Edmund the lady Edith presented her lord with his first-born son, to whom in baptism they gave the name Elfric, and a year later Alfred was born, and named after the great king. One daughter, named Edgitha, completed the fruits of their happy union, and in their simple fashion they strove to train their children in the fear of the Lord.

We will now resume the thread of our story.

It was now the hour of eventide, and the time for "laying the board" drew near. From forest and field came in ceorl and theow, hanging up their weapons or agricultural implements around the lower end of the hall. Meanwhile the domestics brought in large tressels, and then huge heavy boards, which they arranged so as to form the dining table, shaped like the letter T, the upper portion being furnished with the richest dainties for the family and their guest, the lower with simpler fare for the dependents.

A wild boar caught in the forest formed the chief dish, and was placed at the upper end, while mutton and beef; dressed in various ways, flanked it on either side.

The thane, Ella, occupied the central seat at the high table: his chair, rudely carved, had borne the weight of his ancestors before him; on his left hand was seated the once lovely Edith. Age had deprived her of her youthful beauty, but not of the sweet expression which told of her gentleness and purity of heart; they had left their impress on each line of her speaking countenance; and few left her presence unimpressed with respect and esteem.

On his right hand sat Prince Edwy, "Edwy the fair" men called him, and right well he deserved the name. His face was one which inspired interest at a glance: his large blue eyes, his golden hair which floated over his shoulders, his sweet voice, his graceful bearing, all united to impress the beholders.

Elfric, Alfred, and their sister Edgitha, completed the company at the high table.

The hungry crowd of ceorls and serfs, who were, as we have said, fresh from field or forest, sat at the lower table, which was spread with huge joints of roasted meat, loaves of bread, wedges of cheese, piles of cabbage or other vegetables, rolls or coils of broiled eels, and huge pieces of boiled pork or bacon.

Around the table sat the hounds and other dogs, open jawed, waiting such good luck as they might hope to receive at the hands of their masters, while many "loaf eaters," as the serfs were called who fed at their master's table, stood with the dogs, or sat on the rush-strewn floor, for want of room at the board.

It was marvellous to see how the food disappeared, as hand after hand was stretched out to the dishes, in the absence of forks--a modern invention--and huge horns of ale helped the meat downwards.

Game, steaks of beef and venison on spits, were handed round. The choicer joints were indeed reserved for the upper board, but profusion was the rule everywhere throughout the hall, and there was probably not a serf; nay, not even a dog, whose appetite was not fully satisfied before the end of the feast.

The prince seemed thoroughly to have recovered his spirits, somewhat damped perhaps before by his adventure with the wolf; and exerted his talents to make himself agreeable. He had seen life on an extended scale, young as he was, and his anecdotes of London and the court, if a little wild, were still interesting. Elfric and Alfred listened to his somewhat random talk, with that respect boys ever pay to those who have seen more of the wide world than themselves--a respect perhaps heightened by the high rank of their princely guest, who was, however, only a month or two older than Elfric.

As they heard of the marvels of London, and of the court, home and its attractions seemed to become dim by comparison, and Elfric especially longed to share such happiness.

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