Part 6 (2/2)
”From the fury of the Normans, good Lord deliver us,” was, we are told, in the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries a pet.i.tion in the Litanies of all nations.[29] For long did England sorrow under their ”fury,” though _in time_ the Conquest produced advantageous results to the kingdom at large. Whether this Norman subjugation was in accordance with the will of the monarch Edward, or whether it was entirely the result of Duke William's ambition, must now ever remain in doubt. Harold a.s.serted that Edward the Confessor appointed him his successor (of which, however, he could not produce proof); to this must be opposed the improbability of Edward thus enn.o.bling a family of whom he felt, and with such abundant cause, so jealous.
Probably the old chronicler (Fabyan) has. .h.i.t the mark when he says, ”This Edgarre (the rightful heir) was yonge, and specyally for Harolde was stronge of knyghtes and rychesse, he wanne the reygne.” Be this as it may, however, Harold on the very day of Edward's interment, and that was only the day subsequent to his death, was crowned king in St. Paul's; apparently with the concurrence of all concerned, for he was powerful and popular. And his government during the chief part of his short kingly career was such as to increase his popularity: he was wise, and just, and gracious. ”Anone as he was crowned, he began to fordoo euyll lawes and customes before vsed, and stablysshed the good lawes, and specyally whiche (suche) as were for the defence of holy churche, and punysshed the euyll doers, to the fere and example of other.”[30]
But uncontrolled authority early began to produce its wonted results.
He ”waxyd so prowd, and for couetouse wold not deuyde the prayes that he took to hys knyghtys, that had well deseruyd it, but kepte it to hymself, that he therby lost the fauour of many of his knyghtys and people.”[31] This defection from his party doubtless made itself felt in the mortal struggle with the Norman duke which issued in Harold's discomfiture and death.
Proceed we to the tapestry.
The first scene which the needlewoman has depicted is a conference between a person who, from his white flowing beard and regal costume, is easily recognized as the ”sainted Edward,” and another, who, from his subsequent embarkation, is supposed to be Harold. The subject of the conference is, of course, only conjectured. Harold's visit to Normandy is well known; but whether, as some suppose, he was driven thither by a tempest when on a cruise of pleasure; whether he went as amba.s.sador from Edward to communicate the intentions of the Confessor in William's behoof; or whether, as the tapestry is supposed more strongly to indicate, he obtained Edward's reluctant consent to his visit to reclaim his brother who, a hostage for his own good conduct, had been sent to William by Edward; these are points which now defy investigation, even if they were of sufficient importance to claim it.
Harold is then seen on his journey attended by cavaliers on horseback, surrounded by dogs, and, an emblem of his own high dignity, a hawk on his fist.
One great value of this tapestry is the scrupulous regard paid to points and circ.u.mstances which at first view might appear insignificant, but which, as correlative confirmations of usages and facts, are of considerable importance. Thus, it is known to antiquarians that great personages formerly had two only modes of equipment when proceeding on a journey, that of war or the chase.
Harold is here fully equipped for the chase, and consequently the first glimpse obtained of his person would show that his errand was one of peace. The hawk on the fist was a mark of high n.o.bility: no inferior person is represented with one: Harold and Guy Earl of Ponthieu alone bear them.
In former times this bird was esteemed so sacred that it was prohibited in the ancient laws for any one to give his hawk even as a part of his ransom. In the reign of Edward the Third it was made felony to steal a hawk; and to take its eggs, even in a person's own ground, was punishable with imprisonment for a year and a day, besides a fine at the king's pleasure. Nay, more than this, by the laws of one part of the island, and probably of the whole,[32] the price of a hawk, or of a greyhound, was once the very same with the price of a man; and there was a time when the robbing of a hawk's nest was as great a crime in the eye of the law, and as severely punished, as the murder of a Christian. And of this high value they were long considered. ”It is difficult,” says Mr. Mills,[33] ”to fancy the extravagant degree of estimation in which hawks were held during the chivalric ages. As symbols of high estate they were constantly carried about by the n.o.bility of both s.e.xes. There was even a usage of bringing them into places appropriated to public wors.h.i.+p; a practice which, in the case of some individuals, appears to have been recognised as a right. The treasurer of the church of Auxerre enjoyed the distinction of a.s.sisting at divine service on solemn days with a falcon on his fist; and the Lord of Sa.s.sai held the privilege of perching his upon the altar. Nothing was thought more dishonourable to a man of rank than to give up his hawks; and if he were taken prisoner he would not resign them even for liberty.”
The different positions in which the hawk is placed in our needlework are worthy of remark. Here its head is raised, its wings fluttering, as if eager and ready for flight; afterwards, when Harold follows the Earl of Ponthieu as his captive, he is not, of course, deprived of his bird, but by a beautiful fiction the bird is represented depressed, and with its head turned towards its master's breast as if trying to nestle and shelter itself there. Could sympathy be more poetically expressed? Afterwards, on Harold's release, the bird is again depicted as fluttering to ”soar elate.”
The practice very prevalent in these ”barbarous times,” as we somewhat too sweepingly term them, of entering on no expedition of war or pastime without imploring the protection of heaven, is intimated by a church which Harold is entering previously to his embarkation. That this observance might degenerate in many instances into mere form may be very true; and the ”hunting ma.s.ses” celebrated in song might, some of them, be more honoured in the breach than the observance: nevertheless in clearing away the dross of old times, we have, it is to be feared, removed some of the gold also; and the abolition of the custom of having the churches open at _all times_, so that at any moment the heart-prompted prayer might be offered up under the holy shelter of a consecrated roof, has tended very much, it is to be feared, to abolish the habit of frequent prayer. A habit in itself, and regarded even merely as a habit, fraught with inestimable good.
We next see Harold and his companions refres.h.i.+ng themselves prior to their departure, pledging each other, and doubtless drinking to the success of their enterprise whatever it might be. The horns from which they are drinking have been the subject of critical remark. We find that horns were used for various purposes, and were of four sorts, drinking horns, hunting horns, horns for summoning the people, and of a mixed kind.
They were used as modes of invest.i.ture, and this manner of endowing was usual amongst the Danes in England. King c.n.u.te himself gave lands at Pusey in Berks.h.i.+re to the family of that name, with a horn solemnly at that time delivered, as a confirmation of the grant. Edward the Confessor made a like donation to the family of Nigel. The celebrated horn of Alphus, kept in the sacristy in York Minster, was probably a drinking cup belonging to this prince, and was by him given together with all his lands and revenues to that church. ”When he gave the horn that was to convey it (his estate) he filled it with wine, and on his knees before the altar, 'Deo et S. Petro omnes terras et redditus propinavit.' So that he drank it off, in testimony that thereby he gave them his lands.”[34] Many instances might be adduced to show that this mode of invest.i.ture was common in England in the time of the Danes, the Anglo-Saxons, and at the close of the reign of the Norman conqueror.
The drinking horns had frequently a screw at the end, which being taken off at once converted them into hunting horns, which circ.u.mstance will account for persons of distinction frequently carrying their own. Such doubtless were those used of old by the Breton hunters about Brecheliant, which is poetically described as a forest long and broad, much famed throughout Brittany. The fountain of Berenton rises from beneath a stone there. Thither the hunters are used to repair in sultry weather, and drawing up water with their horns (those horns which had just been used to sound the animated warnings of the chase), they sprinkle the stone for the purpose of having rain, which is then wont to fall throughout the whole forest around. There too fairies are to be seen, and many wonders happen. The ground is broken and precipitous, and deer in plenty roam there, but the husbandmen have forsaken it. Our author[35] goes on to say that he personally visited this enchanted region, but that, though he saw the forest and the land, no marvels presented themselves. The reason is obvious. He had, before the time, contracted some of the scepticism of these matter-of-fact ”schoolmaster abroad” days. He wanted faith, and therefore he did not _deserve_ to see them.
The use of drinking horns is very ancient. They were usually embellished or garnished with silver; they were in very common use among our Saxon ancestors, who frequently had them gilded and magnificently ornamented. One of those in use amongst Harold's party seems to be very richly decorated.
The revellers are, however, obliged to dispatch, as their leader, Harold, is already wading through the water to his vessel. The character of Harold as displayed throughout this tapestry is a magnificent one, and does infinite credit to the generous and n.o.ble disposition of Matilda the queen, who disdained to depreciate the character of a fallen foe. He commences his expedition by an act of piety; here, on his embarkation at Bosham, he is kindly carrying his dog through the water. In crossing the sands of the river Cosno, which are dangerous, so very dangerous as most frequently to cause the destruction of those who attempt their transit, his whole concern seems to be to a.s.sist the pa.s.sage of others, whose inferior natural powers do not enable them to compete with danger so successfully as himself; his character for undaunted bravery is such, that William condescends to supplicate his a.s.sistance in a feud then at issue between himself and another n.o.bleman, and so n.o.bly does he bear himself that the proud Norman with his own hands invests him with the emblems of honour (as seen in the tapestry); and, last scene of all, he disdained all submission, he repelled all the entreaties with which his brothers a.s.sailed him not personally to lead his troops to the encounter, and the corpses of 15,000 Normans on this field, and of even a greater number on the English monarch's side, told in b.l.o.o.d.y characters that Harold had not quailed in the last great encounter.
Unpropitious winds drive him and his attendants from their intended course. Many historians accuse the people of Ponthieu of making prisoners all whose ill fortune threw them upon their coast, and of treating them with great barbarity, in order to extort the larger ransom. Be this as it may, Harold has scarcely set his foot on sh.o.r.e ere he is forcibly captured by the va.s.sals of Guy of Ponthieu, who is there on horseback to witness the proceeding. The tapestry goes on to picture the progress of the captured troop and their captors to Belrem or Beurain, and a conference when there between the earl and his prisoner, where the fair embroideresses have given a delicate and expressive feature by depicting the conquering n.o.ble with his sword elevated, and the princely captive, wearing indeed his sword, but with the point depressed.
It is said that a fisherman of Ponthieu, who had been often in England and knew Harold's person, was the cause of his capture. ”He went privily to Guy, the Count of Pontif, and would speak to no other; and he told the Count how he could put a great prize in his way, if he would go with him; and that if he would give him only twenty livres he should gain a hundred by it, for he would deliver him such a prisoner as would pay a hundred livres or more for his ransome.” The Count agreed to his terms, and then the fisherman showed him Harold.
Hearing of Harold's captivity, William the Norman is anxious on all and every account to obtain possession of his person. He consequently sends amba.s.sadors to Guy, who is represented on the tapestry as giving them audience. The person holding the horses is somewhat remarkable; he is a bearded dwarf. Dwarfs were formerly much sought after in the houses of great folks, and they were frequently sent as presents from one potentate to another. They were petted and indulged somewhat in the way of the more modern fool or jester. The custom is very old. The Romans were so fond of them, that they often used artificial methods to prevent the growth of children designed for dwarfs, by enclosing them in boxes, or by the use of tight bandages. The sister of one of the Roman emperors had a dwarf who was only two feet and a hand breadth in height. Many relations concerning dwarfs we may look upon as not less fabulous than those of giants. They are, like the latter, indispensable in romances, where their feats, far from being dwarfish, are absolutely gigantic, though these diminutive heroes seldom occupy any more ostensible post than that of humble attendant.
”Fill'd with these views th' _attendant dwarf_ she sends: Before the knight the dwarf respectful bends; Kind greetings bears as to his lady's guest, And prays his presence to adorn her feast.
The knight delays not.”
”A hugye giaunt stiffe and starke, All foule of limbe and lere; Two goggling eyen like fire farden, A mouthe from eare to eare.
Before him came a dwarffe full lowe, That _waited on his knee_.”
Sir Cauline.
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