Read Ebook: Mediæval Military Architecture in England Volume 2 (of 2) by Clark George Thomas

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Ebook has 1617 lines and 290386 words, and 33 pages

"Aye, truly, I have heard of them, and it is that which has sent me to the smithy this morning to hasten forward my battle-axe; for I love not too light a weapon. You see, Hilda, when it has not weight one must sometimes repeat the blow; especially if the mail be strong. But with a heavy axe and a stout arm there is no need for that. I had begun this weapon," continued the youth, as if he were musing aloud rather than speaking to his companion, "with intent to try its metal on the head of the King; but I fear me it will be necessary to use it in cracking a viking's headpiece before it cleaves a royal crown."

"The King!" exclaimed Hilda, with a look of surprise, not unmingled with terror, "Erling, has ambition led thee to this?"

"Not so; but self-preservation urges me to it."

The maiden paused a few seconds, ere she replied in a meditative voice--"The old man who came among us a year ago, and who calls himself Christian, tells me that his god is not a god of war, like Odin; he says that his god permits no war to men, save that of self-defence; but, Erling, would slaying the King be indeed an act of self-preservation?"

"Aye, in good sooth would it," replied the youth quickly, while a dark frown crossed his brow.

"How can that be?" asked the maiden.

"Hast such small love for gossip, Hilda, that the foul deeds and ambitious projects of Harald Haarfager have not reached thine ear?"

"I have heard," replied Hilda, "that he is fond of war, which, truly, is no news, and that he is just now more busy with his bloody game than usual; but what does that matter to thee?"

"Matter!" cried the youth impatiently, as he seized the lump of metal on which he had been at work, and, thrusting it into the smouldering charcoal, commenced to blow the fire energetically, as if to relieve his feelings. "Know ye not that the King--this Harald Fairhair--is not satisfied with the goodly domains that of right belong to him, and the kingly rule which he holds, according to law, over all Norway, but that he means to subdue the whole land to himself, and trample on our necks as he has already trampled on our laws?"

"I know somewhat of this," said Hilda.

"No one," pursued Erling vehemently, and blowing the fire into a fervent heat--"no one denies to Harald the right to wear the crown of Norway. That was settled at the Ore Thing in Drontheim long ago; but everyone denies his right to interfere with our established laws and privileges. Has he not, by mere might and force of arms, slain many, and enslaved others, of our best and bravest men? And now he proposes to reduce the whole land to slavery, or something like it, and all because of the foolish speech of a proud girl, who says she will not wed him until he shall first subdue to himself the whole of Norway, and rule over it as fully and freely as King Eric rules over Sweden, or King Gorm over Denmark. He has sworn that he will neither clip nor comb his hair, until he has subdued all the land with scatt and duties and domains, or die in the attempt. Trust me! he is like to die in the attempt; and since his Kingship is to be so little occupied with his hair, it would please me well if he would use his time and his shears in clipping the tongue of the wench that set him on so foul an errand. All this thou knowest, Hilda, as well as I; but thou dost not know that men have been at the stede to-day, who tell us that the King is advancing north, and is victorious everywhere. Already King Gandalf and Hako are slain; the two sons of King Eystein have also fallen, and many of the upland kings have been burned, with most of their men, in a house at Ringsager. It is not many days since Harald went up Gudbrandsdal, and north over the Doverfielde, where he ordered all the men to be slain, and everything wide around to be given to the flames. King Gryting of Orkadal and all his people have sworn fidelity to him, and now--worst news of all--it is said he is coming over to pay us a visit in Horlingdal. Is not here cause for fighting in self-defence, or rather for country, and laws and freedom, and wives, and children, and--"

The excited youth stopped abruptly, and, seizing the tongs, whirled the white mass of semi-molten steel upon the anvil, and fell to belabouring it with such goodwill that a bright shower of sparks drove Hilda precipitately out of the workshop.

The wrongs which roused the young Norseman's indignation to such a pitch are matters of history.

The government of the country at that time involved the democratic element very largely. No act or expedition of any importance could be done or undertaken without the previous deliberation and consent of a "Thing", or assembly of landed proprietors. There were many different Things--such as General Things, District Things, House Things of the King's counsellors, and Herd Things of the Court, etcetera, and to such of these there was a distinct and well-known trumpet call. There were also four great Things which were legislative, while the small district Things were only administrative. In addition to which there was the Ore Thing of Drontheim, referred to by Erling. At these Things the King himself possessed no greater power than any of the bonders. He was only a "Thing-man" at a Thing.

So thoroughly did the Northmen appreciate the importance of having a right to raise their voices and to vote in the national parliaments, and so jealously did they assert and maintain their privileges, that the King himself--before he could, on his accession, assume the crown--was obliged to appear at the "Thing", where a freeborn landholder proposed him, and where his title to the crown was investigated and proved in due form. No war expedition on a large scale could be undertaken until a Thing had been converged, and requisition legally made by the King for a supply of men and arms; and, generally, whenever any act affecting national or even district interests was contemplated, it was necessary to assemble a Thing, and consult with the people before anything could be done.

It may be easily understood, then, with what an outburst of indignation a free and warlike race beheld the violent course pursued by Harald Fairhair, who roamed through the country with fire and sword, trampling on their cherished laws and privileges, subduing the petty kings, and placing them, when submissive, as Jarls, i.e. earls or governors over the districts to collect the scatt or taxes, and manage affairs in his name and for his behoof.

It is no wonder that Erling the Bold gathered his brow into an ominous frown, pressed his lips together, tossed his locks impatiently while he thought on these things and battered the iron mass on his anvil with the amount of energy that he would have expended in belabouring the head of King Harald himself, had opportunity offered.

Erling's wrath cooled, however, almost instantly on his observing Hilda's retreat before the fiery shower. He flung down his hammer, seized his battle-axe, and throwing it on his shoulder as he hurried out, speedily overtook her.

"Forgive my rude manners," he said. "My soul was chafed by the thoughts that filled my brain, and I scare knew what I did."

"Truly, thou man of fire," replied the girl, with an offended look, "I am of half a mind not to pardon thee. See, my kirtle is destroyed by the shower thou didst bestow upon me so freely."

"I will repay thee that with such a kirtle as might grace a queen the next time I go on viking cruise."

"Meantime," said Hilda, "I am to go about like a witch plucked somewhat hastily from the fire by a sympathising crone."

"Nay; Herfrida will make thee a new kirtle of the best wool at Haldorstede."

"So thy mother, it seems, is to work and slave in order to undo thy mischief?"

"Then, if nothing else will content thee," said Erling gaily, "I will make thee one myself; but it must be of leather, for I profess not to know how to stitch more delicate substance. But let me carry thy pitcher, Hilda. I will go to Ulfstede to hold converse with thy father on these matters, for it seemed to me that the clouds are gathering somewhat too thickly over the dale for comfort or peace to remain long with us."

As the young man and maiden wended their way down the rocky path that skirted the foaming Horlingdal river, Hilda assumed a more serious tone, and sought to convince her companion of the impropriety of being too fond of fighting, in which attempt, as might be supposed, she was not very successful.

"Why, Hilda," said the youth, at the close of a speech in which his fair companion endeavoured to point out the extreme sinfulness of viking cruises in particular, "it is, as thou sayest, unjust to take from another that which belongs to him if he be our friend; but if he is our enemy, and the enemy of our country, that alters the case. Did not the great Odin himself go on viking cruise and seize what prey he chose?"

Erling said this with the air of a man who deemed his remark unanswerable.

"I know not," rejoined Hilda. "There seems to me much mystery in our thoughts about the gods. I have heard it said that there is no such god as Odin."

The maiden uttered this in a subdued voice, and her cheek paled a little as she glanced up at Erling's countenance. The youth gazed at her with an expression of extreme surprise, and for a few minutes they walked slowly forward without speaking.

There was reason for this silence on both sides. Hilda was naturally of a simple and trustful nature. She had been brought up in the religion of her fathers, and had listened with awe and with deep interest on many a long winter night to the wild legends with which the scalds, or poets of the period, were wont to beguile the evening hours in her father's mansion; but about a year before the time of which we write, an aged stranger had come from the south, and taken up his abode in the valley, in a secluded and dilapidated hut, in which he was suffered to dwell unmolested by its owner, Haldor the Fierce; whose fierceness, by the way, was never exhibited except in time of war and in the heat of battle!

With this hermit Hilda had held frequent converse, and had listened with horror, but with a species of fascination which she could not resist, to his calm and unanswerable reasoning on the fallacy of the religion of Odin, and on the truth of that of Jesus Christ. At first she resolved to fly from the old man, as a dangerous enemy, who sought to seduce her from the paths of rectitude; but when she looked at his grave, sad face, and listened to the gentle and--she knew not why--persuasive tones of his voice, she changed her mind, and resolved to hear what he had to say. Without being convinced of the truth of the new religion--of which she had heard rumours from the roving vikings who frequented Horlingdal--she was much shaken in regard to the truth of her own, and now, for the first time, she had ventured to hint to a human being what was passing in her mind.

At this period Christianity had not penetrated into Norway, but an occasional wanderer or hermit had found his way thither from time to time to surprise the inhabitants with his new doctrines, and then, perchance, to perish as a warlock because of them. Erling had heard of this old man, and regarded him with no favour, for in his sea rovings he had met with so-called Christians, whose conduct had not prepossessed him in their favour. As for their creed, he knew nothing whatever about it.

His mind, however, was of that bold, straightforward, self-reliant, and meditative cast, which happily has existed in all ages and in all climes, and which, in civilised lands, usually brings a man to honour and power, while in barbarous countries and ages, if not associated with extreme caution and reticence, it is apt to bring its possessor into trouble.

It was with astonishment that Erling heard sentiments which had long been harboured in his own mind drop from the lips of one whose natural character he knew to be the reverse of sceptical in matters of faith, or speculative in matters of opinion. Instead of making a direct reply to Hilda's remark, he said, after a pause:

"Hilda, I have my doubts of the old man Christian; men say he is a warlock, and I partly believe them, for it is only such who shun the company of their fellows. I would caution thee against him. He believes not in Odin or Thor, which is matter of consideration mainly to himself, but methinks he holdeth fellowship with Nikke, which is matter of consideration for all honest men, aye, and women too, who would live in peace; for if the Evil Spirit exists at all, as I firmly believe he does, in some shape or other, it were well to keep as far from him as we may, and specially to avoid those erring mortals who seem to court his company."

"The old man is misjudged, believe me," replied the girl earnestly; "I have spoken much with him and oft. It may be he is wrong in some things--how can a woman judge of such matters?--but he is gentle, and has a kind heart."

"I like him not," was Erling's curt reply.

The youth and maiden had now reached a part of the valley where a small footpath diverged from the main track which led to Ulf's dwelling. The path ran in the direction of the hayfields that bordered the fiord. Just as they reached it, Hilda observed that her father was labouring there with his thralls.

"See," she exclaimed, stopping abruptly, and taking her pitcher from Erling, "my father is in the hayfield."

The youth was about to remonstrate and insist on being allowed to carry the pitcher to the house before going to the field; but on second thoughts he resigned his slight burden, and, saying "farewell", turned on his heel and descended the path with rapid step and a somewhat burdened heart.

"She loves me not," he muttered to himself, almost sternly. "I am a brother, nothing more."

DESCRIPTION.

Dover Castle is called by Matthew Paris "the very front door of England," and described by William of Poitou as "Situm est id castellum in rupe mari contigua quae naturaliter acuta undique ad hoc ferramentis elaborate incisa, in speciem muri directissima altitudine, quantum sagittae jactus permetiri potest consurgit, quo in latere unda marina alluitur." It presents a good combination of the defences of several architectural periods, the general result being a concentric fortress, the growth of many centuries, and which, a century ago, presented much both of earthwork and masonry of great and unmixed antiquarian interest. More recently, however, the works have been delivered over to the military authorities of the country, and the result has been a series of alterations, additions, and removals, necessary, it is in all courtesy to be presumed, for the defence of the country, but very destructive of the ancient features of the fortress. The ancient earthworks have been scarped, extended, retrenched, and tunnelled, barracks and magazines have been built, the keep has been converted into storerooms and water-tanks, and in its basement are two powder magazines. In its present condition, and having regard to the strict regulations, prohibiting even the use of the pencil, under which the whole is placed, an accurate examination of what remains of the ancient works, whether in earth or masonry, is almost impracticable.

The British camp was oblong, following the figure of the hill. It was composed of a deep and broad ditch, the contents of which were in part thrown inwards and upwards so as to form a bank. The area thus enclosed measured within the bank about 875 yards by 350 yards, the latter being its diameter at the cliff, by which it is cut off, the northern end running to a point. This main ditch has probably been deepened and more or less altered during the Norman period, and it is now connected with various bastions, hornworks, and caponni?res, but its general outline is sufficiently clear, and it may, from internal evidence, be presumed to be British. Within the area, rather nearer to its northern end, a second earthwork, also composed of bank and ditch, has been thrown up. This includes the lighthouse tower, and is therefore called the Roman ditch, but there is nothing about it of a Roman character, and it is far more probable that it was the work of the English, and formed the inner defence of the castle which Harold undertook to surrender. The space between this and the great earthwork forms the outer ward of the Norman castle; the inner work has been divided into two parts. That to the south, containing the lighthouse, forms the middle ward; that to the north contains the keep, and is the inner ward. The lighthouse has been employed as a belfry to the adjacent church of St. Mary, which is the subject of an excellent memoir by Mr. Puckle, though he can scarcely be admitted to establish its connexion with the British church. The two are undoubtedly the oldest buildings within the castle area.

There are two entrances, the north, or King's Gate, and the south, the Duke of Suffolk's, or Palace Gate. The gateways are vaulted passages, with a flat segmental arch, opening externally between two square flanking towers. There is a groove for a portcullis, and the vaults have an early English import. Each of these gates is defended by an additional work. A sort of hornwork is thrown out in advance, enclosed within a wall with towers, and with a second gate placed obliquely to the first, to allow the approach to be commanded. The north, called the King's Gate, is tolerably perfect. The southern outwork is nearly destroyed. It had two gates, one to the south, connected with which was the tower containing a well, and one to the east, called King Arthur's Gate, close to which was the Armourer's Tower, and near this was Earl Godwin's Postern. The masonry of this inner ward was probably of the date of the keep. It was included within a broad and deep ditch, now incomplete, on the southern front.

Fitzwilliam's Tower , placed about 80 yards east of the north gate, was connected with a second postern, not unlike the last, and now connected with a caponni?re. Beyond this are 19 and 20, two watch turrets, and farther on 21, Albrinci's or Avrenches' Tower. This contains a third postern of peculiar arrangement. It is a low, polygonal structure, placed on a shoulder on the ditch, so as to rake its continuation southward. It was reached by a covered gallery from the south gate of the inner ward, which is continued through its basement so as to open on the counterscarp of the main ditch. Connected with this gallery was Veville or Pencester's Tower, placed upon the curtain which on this side closed the connexion between the two divisions of the outer ward. Of the remaining towers, five in number, three are called Ashford's, and near one of them was another well. This part of the defence has been completely remodelled. The names of the several towers are those of the knights by whom they were built, or whose duty it was to defend them, for to no castle in Britain, not even to Richmond, was the practice of tenure by castle guard so extensively applied as to Dover, and very numerous and valuable were the Kentish manors so held, amounting to 230 1/2 knight-fees, of which 115 1/4 were attached to the office of Constable.

The main entrance is in the east face, near its north end, at the second-floor level. The forebuilding which covers it is the finest in England. It is in fair preservation, all but its roofs and part of its east wall, which are modern. As at Rochester, it is of masonry inferior to the keep, at least outside, and there is no cordon at the base of its pilasters, but it contains within more ornamental work than the keep, with which it is so intimately connected that it cannot be an addition. In the north-east and south-west angles of the keep are well-staircases remarkably commodious and well lighted. They are 14 feet 6 inches in diameter, the stairs being 6 feet 6 inches and the newel 1 foot 6 inches. They rise from the basement to the roof by 114 steps, and communicate with each floor, the two lower by lobbies, the upper and upper gallery by branching passages. From the north-east lobbies doors open into the two tiers of vaults below the upper part of the forebuilding. The extraordinary thickness of the walls is intended to allow of the construction of a very unusual number of mural chambers, of which there are altogether twenty-seven. Besides the main entrance there seems to have been one at the first-floor level, also from the forebuilding. Others have since been made, one probably in the fourteenth century, direct into the basement, and another very recently into the base of the south-western staircase. Besides these, divers loopholes have been converted into doors, to give external entrance to the basement mural chambers which are used as water-tanks and powder-magazines.

The east chamber, 50 feet by 20 feet, has in its north end a deep recess, and a loop up to which the sill is stepped, while the arch overhead rises as the recess contracts. It is evident that the recess at the south end was similar, but has been converted into a doorway. This is the opening in general use, from the first landing of the exterior staircase. The wall here is 24 feet thick, and there are rebates for two doors, with bars within each. The arches are segmental and the angles rounded off. The alteration seems to have been made in the Decorated period, with a trace of later work. Close east of this door, and 6 feet below it, is another door, now partially concealed, which led into a vault 28 feet by 15 feet, occupying the south-east angle of the building. In its south wall a door leads into a second vault, 23 feet by 15 feet, below the lower vestibule and chapel. Each vault had a loop towards the east. They are now used as water-tanks, and reached by external openings. Returning to the east chamber, in its east wall are two doors, one at its north end and one near the middle, now blocked up. The northern door opens into the lobby of the north-east staircase, and from it a door led into a vault 28 feet by 12 feet, in the forebuilding, now used as a magazine, and entered through the outer wall. The middle door probably led into another vault, of which nothing is known. Thus at the ground level of the forebuilding there are three, if not four vaults, all originally entered from the keep. They are about 6 feet high to the arch-springing.

The west chamber, 50 feet by 16 feet, has a large recess and loop in each end, and in the west wall two doors, one opening into the lobby of the south-western staircase, where is the modern door, and the other, now blocked up, which led into a mural chamber 39 feet long by 12 feet broad, now a powder-magazine, and entered from the outside.

The first floor also contains two main rooms which communicate by a small door near the north end of the cross-wall.

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