Book: Harold, Book 10.
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Edward Bulwer Lytton >> Harold, Book 10.
Haco bowed his head, and went.
In a few moments more, Gurth came in. To this pure and spotless
spirit Harold had already related the events of his unhappy visit to
the Norman; and he felt, as the young chief pressed his hand, and
looked on him with his clear and loving eyes, as if Honour made
palpable stood by his side.
Six of the ecclesiastics, most eminent for Church learning,--small as
was that which they could boast, compared with the scholars of
Normandy and the Papal States, but at least more intelligent and more
free from mere formal monasticism than most of their Saxon
contemporaries,--and six of the chiefs most renowned for experience in
war or council, selected under the sagacious promptings of Alred,
accompanied that prelate to the presence of the Earl.
"Close, thou! close! close! Gurth," whispered Harold "for this is a
confession against man's pride, and sorely doth it shame;--so that I
would have thy bold sinless heart beating near to mine."
Then, leaning his arm upon his brother's shoulder, and in a voice, the
first tones of which, as betraying earnest emotion, irresistibly
chained and affected his noble audience, Harold began his tale.
Various were the emotions, though all more akin to terror than
repugnance, with which the listeners heard the Earl's plain and candid
recital.
Among the lay-chiefs the impression made by the compelled oath was
comparatively slight: for it was the worst vice of the Saxon laws, to
entangle all charges, from the smallest to the greatest, in a reckless
multiplicity of oaths [215], to the grievous loosening of the bonds of
truth: and oaths then had become almost as much mere matter of legal
form, as certain oaths--bad relic of those times!--still existing in
our parliamentary and collegiate proceedings, are deemed by men, not
otherwise dishonourable, even now. And to no kind of oath was more
latitude given than to such as related to fealty to a chief: for
these, in the constant rebellions which happened year after year, were
openly violated, and without reproach. Not a sub-king in Wales who
harried the border, not an earl who raised banner against the Basileus
of Britain, but infringed his oath to be good man and true to the lord
paramount; and even William the Norman himself never found his oath of
fealty stand in the way, whenever he deemed it right and expedient to
take arms against his suzerain of France.
On the churchmen the impression was stronger and more serious: not
that made by the oath itself, but by the relics on which the hand had
been laid. They looked at each other, doubtful and appalled, when the
Earl ceased his tale; while only among the laymen circled a murmur of
mingled wrath at William's bold design on their native land, and of
scorn at the thought that an oath, surprised and compelled, should be
made the instrument of treason to a whole people.
"Thus," said Harold, after a pause, "thus have I made clear to you my
conscience, and revealed to you the only obstacle between your offers
and my choice. From the keeping of an oath so extorted, and so deadly
to England, this venerable prelate and mine own soul have freed me.
Whether as king or as subject, I shall alike revere the living and
their long posterity more than the dead men's bones, and, with sword
and with battle-axe, hew out against the invader my best atonement for
the lip's weakness and the heart's desertion. But whether, knowing
what hath passed, ye may not deem it safer for the land to elect
another king,--this it is which, free and fore-thoughtful of every
chance, ye should now decide."
With these words he stepped from the dais, and retired into the
oratory that adjoined the chamber, followed by Gurth. The eyes of the
priests then turned to Alred, and to them the prelate spoke as he had
done before to Harold;--he distinguished between the oath and its
fulfilment--between the lesser sin and the greater--the one which the
Church could absolve--the one which no Church had the right to exact,
and which, if fulfilled, no penance could expiate. He owned frankly,
nevertheless, that it was the difficulties so created, that had made
him incline to the Atheling;--but, convinced of that prince's
incapacity, even in the most ordinary times, to rule England, he
shrank yet more from such a choice, when the swords of the Norman were
already sharpening for contest. Finally he said, "If a man as fit to
defend us as Harold can be found, let us prefer him: if not----"
"There is no other man!" cried the thegns with one voice. "And," said
a wise old chief, "had Harold sought to play a trick to secure the
throne, he could not have devised one more sure than the tale he hath
now told us. What! just when we are most assured that the doughtiest
and deadliest foe that our land can brave, waits but for Edward's
death to enforce on us a stranger's yoke--what! shall we for that very
reason deprive ourselves of the only man able to resist him? Harold
hath taken an oath! God wot, who among us have not taken some oath at
law for which they have deemed it meet afterwards to do a penance, or
endow a convent? The wisest means to strengthen Harold against that
oath, is to show the moral impossibility of fulfilling it, by placing
him on the throne. The best proof we can give to this insolent Norman
that England is not for prince to leave, or subject to barter, is to
choose solemnly in our Witan the very chief whom his frauds prove to
us that he fears the most. Why, William would laugh in his own sleeve
to summon a king to descend from his throne to do him the homage which
that king, in the different capacity of subject, had (we will grant,
even willingly) promised to render."
This speech spoke all the thoughts of the laymen, and, with Alred's
previous remarks, reassured all the ecclesiastics. They were easily
induced to believe that the usual Church penances, and ample Church
gifts, would suffice for the insult offered to the relics: and,--if
they in so grave a case outstripped, in absolution, an authority amply
sufficing for all ordinary matters,--Harold, as king, might easily
gain from the Pope himself that full pardon and shrift, which as mere
earl, against the Prince of the Normans, he would fail of obtaining.
These or similar reflections soon terminated the suspense of the
select council; and Alred sought the Earl in the oratory, to summon
him back to the conclave. The two brothers were kneeling side by side
before the little altar; and there was something inexpressibly
touching in their humble attitudes, their clasped supplicating hands,
in that moment when the crown of England rested above their House.
The brothers rose, and at Alred's sign followed the prelate into the
council-room. Alred briefly communicated the result of the
conference; and with an aspect, and in a tone, free alike from triumph
and indecision, Harold replied:
"As ye will, so will I. Place me only where I can most serve the
common cause. Remain you now, knowing my secret, a chosen and
standing council: too great is my personal stake in this matter to
allow my mind to be unbiassed; judge ye, then, and decide for me in
all things: your minds should be calmer and wiser than mine; in all
things I will abide by your counsel; and thus I accept the trust of a
nation's freedom."
Each thegn then put his hand into Harold's, and called himself
Harold's man.
"Now, more than ever," said the wise old thegn who had before spoken,
"will it be needful to heal all dissension in the kingdom--to
reconcile with us Mercia and Northumbria, and make the kingdom one
against the foe. You, as Tostig's brother, have done well to abstain
from active interference; you do well to leave it to us to negotiate
the necessary alliance between all brave and good men."
"And to that end, as imperative for the public weal, you consent,"
said Alred, thoughtfully, "to abide by our advice, whatever it be?"
"Whatever it be, so that it serve England," answered the Earl.
A smile, somewhat sad, flitted over the prelate's pale lips, and
Harold was once more alone with Gurth.
CHAPTER VII.
The soul of all council and cabal on behalf of Harold, which has led
to the determination of the principal chiefs, and which now succeeded
it--was Haco.
His rank as son of Sweyn, the first-born of Godwin's house--a rank
which might have authorised some pretensions on his own part, gave him
all field for the exercise of an intellect singularly keen and
profound. Accustomed to an atmosphere of practical state-craft in the
Norman court, with faculties sharpened from boyhood by vigilance and
meditation, he exercised an extraordinary influence over the simple
understandings of the homely clergy and the uncultured thegns.
Impressed with the conviction of his early doom, he felt no interest
in the objects of others; but equally believing that whatever of
bright, and brave, and glorious, in his brief, condemned career, was
to be reflected on him from the light of Harold's destiny, the sole
desire of a nature, which, under other auspices, would have been
intensely daring and ambitious, was to administer to Harold's
greatness. No prejudice, no principle, stood in the way of this
dreary enthusiasm. As a father, himself on the brink of the grave,
schemes for the worldly grandeur of the son, in which he confounds and
melts his own life, so this sombre and predestined man, dead to earth
and to joy and the emotions of the heart, looked beyond his own tomb,
to that existence in which he transferred and carried on his ambition.
If the leading agencies of Harold's memorable career might be, as it
were, symbolised and allegorised, by the living beings with which it
was connected--as Edith was the representative of stainless Truth--as
Gurth was the type of dauntless Duty--as Hilda embodied aspiring
Imagination--so Haco seemed the personation of Worldly Wisdom. And
cold in that worldly wisdom Haco laboured on, now conferring with
Alred and the partisans of Harold; now closeted with Edwin and Morcar;
now gliding from the chamber of the sick King.--That wisdom foresaw
all obstacles, smoothed all difficulties; ever calm, never resting;
marshalling and harmonising the things to be, like the ruthless hand
of a tranquil fate. But there was one with whom Haco was more often
than with all others--one whom the presence of Harold had allured to
that anxious scene of intrigue, and whose heart leapt high at the
hopes whispered from the smileless lips of Haco.
CHAPTER VIII.
It was the second day after that which assured him the allegiance of
the thegns, that a message was brought to Harold from the Lady Aldyth.
She was in Oxford, at a convent, with her young daughter by the Welch
King; she prayed him to visit her. The Earl, whose active mind,
abstaining from the intrigues around him, was delivered up to the
thoughts, restless and feverish, which haunt the repose of all active
minds, was not unwilling to escape awhile from himself. He went to
Aldyth. The royal widow had laid by the signs of mourning; she was
dressed with the usual stately and loose-robed splendour of Saxon
matrons, and all the proud beauty of her youth was restored to her
cheek. At her feet was that daughter who afterwards married the
Fleance so familiar to us in Shakespeare, and became the ancestral
mother of those Scottish kings who had passed, in pale shadows, across
the eyes of Macbeth [216]; by the side of that child, Harold to his
surprise saw the ever ominous face of Haco.
But proud as was Aldyth, all pride seemed humbled into woman's sweeter
emotions at the sight of the Earl, and she was at first unable to
command words to answer his greeting.
Gradually, however, she warmed into cordial confidence. She touched
lightly on her past sorrows; she permitted it to be seen that her lot
with the fierce Gryffyth had been one not more of public calamity than
of domestic grief, and that in the natural awe and horror which the
murder of her lord had caused, she felt rather for the ill-starred
king than the beloved spouse. She then passed to the differences
still existing between her house and Harold's, and spoke well and
wisely of the desire of the young Earls to conciliate his grace and
favour.
While thus speaking, Morcar and Edwin, as if accidentally, entered,
and their salutations of Harold were such as became their relative
positions; reserved, not distant--respectful, not servile. With the
delicacy of high natures, they avoided touching on the cause before
the Witan (fixed for the morrow), on which depended their earldoms or
their exile.
Harold was pleased by their bearing, and attracted towards them by the
memory of the affectionate words that had passed between him and
Leofric, their illustrious grandsire, over his father's corpse. He
thought then of his own prayer: "Let there be peace between thine and
mine!" and looking at their fair and stately youth, and noble
carriage, he could not but feel that the men of Northumbria and of
Mercia had chosen well. The discourse, however, was naturally brief,
since thus made general; the visit soon ceased, and the brothers
attended Harold to the door with the courtesy of the times. Then Haco
said, with that faint movement of the lips which was his only approach
to a smile:
"Will ye not, noble thegns, give your hands to my kinsman?"
"Surely," said Edwin, the handsomer and more gentle of the two, and
who, having a poet's nature, felt a poet's enthusiasm for the gallant
deeds even of a rival,--"surely, if the Earl will accept the hands of
those who trust never to be compelled to draw sword against England's
hero."
Harold stretched forth his hand in reply, and that cordial and
immemorial pledge of our national friendships was interchanged.
Gaining the street, Harold said to his nephew:
"Standing as I do towards the young Earls, that appeal of thine had
been better omitted."
"Nay," answered Haco; "their cause is already prejudged in their
favour. And thou must ally thyself with the heirs of Leofric, and the
successors of Siward."
Harold made no answer. There was something in the positive tone of
this beardless youth that displeased him; but he remembered that Haco
was the son of Sweyn, Godwin's first-born, and that, but for Sweyn's
crimes, Haco might have held the place in England he held himself, and
looked to the same august destinies beyond.
In the evening a messenger from the Roman house arrived, with two
letters for Harold; one from Hilda, that contained but these words:
"Again peril menaces thee, but in the shape of good. Beware! and,
above all, of the evil that wears the form of wisdom."
The other letter was from Edith; it was long for the letters of that
age, and every sentence spoke a heart wrapped in his.
Reading the last, Hilda's warnings were forgotten. The picture of
Edith--the prospect of a power that might at last effect their union,
and reward her long devotion--rose before him, to the exclusion of
wilder fancies and loftier hopes; and his sleep that night was full of
youthful and happy dreams.
The next day the Witan met. The meeting was less stormy than had been
expected; for the minds of most men were made up, and so far as Tostig
was interested, the facts were too evident and notorious, the
witnesses too numerous, to leave any option to the judges. Edward, on
whom alone Tostig had relied, had already, with his ordinary
vacillation, been swayed towards a right decision, partly by the
counsels of Alred and his other prelates, and especially by the
representations of Haco, whose grave bearing and profound
dissimulation had gained a singular influence over the formal and
melancholy King.
By some previous compact or understanding between the opposing
parties, there was no attempt, however, to push matters against the
offending Tostig to vindictive extremes. There was no suggestion of
outlawry, or punishment, beyond the simple deprivation of the earldom
he had abused. And in return for this moderation on the one side, the
other agreed to support and ratify the new election of the
Northumbrians. Morcar was thus formally invested with the vice-
kingship of that great realm; while Edwin was confirmed in the earldom
of the principal part of Mercia.
On the announcement of these decrees, which were received with loud
applause by all the crowd assembled to hear them, Tostig, rallying
round him his house-carles, left the town. He went first to Githa,
with whom his wife had sought refuge, and, after a long conference
with his mother, he, and his haughty Countess, journeyed to the sea-
coast, and took ship for Flanders.
CHAPTER IX.
Gurth and Harold were seated in close commune in the Earl's chamber,
at an hour long after the complin (or second vespers), when Alred
entered unexpectedly. The old man's face was unusually grave, and
Harold's penetrating eye saw that he was gloomy with some matters of
great moment.
"Harold," said the prelate, seating himself, "the hour has come to
test thy truth, when thou saidst that thou wert ready to make all
sacrifice to thy land, and further, that thou wouldst abide by the
counsel of those free from thy passions, and looking on thee only as
the instrument of England's weal."
"Speak on, father," said Harold, turning somewhat pale at the
solemnity of the address; "I am ready, if the council so desire, to
remain a subject, and aid in the choice of a worthier king."
"Thou divinest me ill," answered Alred; "I do not call on thee to lay
aside the crown, but to crucify the heart. The decree of the Witan
assigns Mercia and Northumbria to the sons of Algar. The old
demarcations of the heptarchy, as thou knowest, are scarce worn out;
it is even now less one monarchy, than various states retaining their
own laws, and inhabitated by different races, who under the sub-kings,
called earls, acknowledge a supreme head in the Basileus of Britain.
Mercia hath its March law and its prince; Northumbria its Dane law and
its leader. To elect a king without civil war, these realms, for so
they are, must unite with and sanction the Witans elsewhere held.
Only thus can the kingdom be firm against foes without and anarchy
within; and the more so, from the alliance between the new earls of
those great provinces and the House of Gryffyth, which still lives in
Caradoc his son. What if at Edward's death Mercia and Northumbria
refuse to sanction thy accession? What if, when all our force were
needed against the Norman, the Welch broke loose from their hills, and
the Scots from their moors! Malcolm of Cumbria, now King of Scotland,
is Tostig's dearest friend, while his people side with Morcar. Verily
these are dangers enow for a new king, even if William's sword slept
in its sheath."
"Thou speakest the words of wisdom," said Harold, "but I knew
beforehand that he who wears a crown must abjure repose."
"Not so; there is one way, and but one, to reconcile all England to
thy dominion--to win to thee not the cold neutrality but the eager
zeal of Mercia and Northumbria; to make the first guard thee from the
Welch, the last be thy rampart against the Scot. In a word, thou must
ally thyself with the blood of these young earls; thou must wed with
Aldyth their sister."
The Earl sprang to his feet aghast.
"No--no!" he exclaimed; "not that!--any sacrifice but that!--rather
forfeit the throne than resign the heart that leans on mine! Thou
knowest my pledge to Edith, my cousin; pledge hallowed by the faith of
long years. No--no, have mercy--human mercy; I can wed no other!--any
sacrifice but that!"
The good prelate, though not unprepared for this burst, was much moved
by its genuine anguish; but, steadfast to his purpose, he resumed:
"Alas, my son, so say we all in the hour of trial--any sacrifice but
that which duty and Heaven ordain. Resign the throne thou canst not,
or thou leavest the land without a ruler, distracted by rival claims
and ambitions, an easy prey to the Norman. Resign thy human
affections thou canst and must; and the more, O Harold, that even if
duty compelled not this new alliance, the old tie is one of sin,
which, as king, and as high example in high place to all men, thy
conscience within, and the Church without, summon thee to break. How
purify the erring lives of the churchman, if thyself a rebel to the
Church? and if thou hast thought that thy power as king might prevail
on the Roman Pontiff to grant dispensation for wedlock within the
degrees, and that so thou mightest legally confirm thy now illegal
troth; bethink thee well, thou hast a more dread and urgent boon now
to ask--in absolution from thine oath to William. Both prayers,
surely, our Roman father will not grant. Wilt thou choose that which
absolves from sin, or that which consults but thy carnal affections?"
Harold covered his face with his hands, and groaned aloud in his
strong agony.
"Aid me, Gurth," cried Alred, "thou, sinless and spotless; thou, in
whose voice a brother's love can blend with a Christian's zeal; aid
me, Gurth, to melt the stubborn, but to comfort the human, heart."
Then Gurth, with a strong effort over himself, knelt by Harold's side,
and in strong simple language, backed the representations of the
priest. In truth, all argument drawn from reason, whether in the
state of the land, or the new duties to which Harold was committed,
were on the one side, and unanswerable; on the other, was but that
mighty resistance which love opposes ever to reason. And Harold
continued to murmur, while his hands concealed his face.
"Impossible!--she who trusted, who trusts--who so loves--she whose
whole youth hath been consumed in patient faith in me!--Resign her!
and for another! I cannot--I cannot. Take from me the throne!--Oh
vain heart of man, that so long desired its own curse!--Crown the
Atheling; my manhood shall defend his youth.--But not this offering!
No, no--I will not!"
It were tedious to relate the rest of that prolonged and agitatated
conference. All that night, till the last stars waned, and the bells
of prime were heard from church and convent, did the priest and the
brother alternately plead and remonstrate, chide and soothe; and still
Harold's heart clung to Edith's, with its bleeding roots. At length
they, perhaps not unwisely, left him to himself; and as, whispering
low their hopes and their fears of the result of the self-conflict,
they went forth from the convent, Haco joined them in the courtyard,
and while his cold mournful eye scanned the faces of priest and
brother, he asked them "how they had sped?"
Alred shook his head and answered:
"Man's heart is more strong in the flesh than true to the spirit."
"Pardon me, father," said Haco, "if I suggest that your most eloquent
and persuasive ally in this, were Edith herself. Start not so
incredulously; it is because she loves the Earl more than her own
life, that--once show her that the Earl's safety, greatness, honour,
duty, lie in release from his troth to her--that nought save his
erring love resists your counsels and his country's claims--and
Edith's voice will have more power than yours."
The virtuous prelate, more acquainted with man's selfishness than
woman's devotion, only replied by an impatient gesture. But Gurth,
lately wedded to a woman worthy of him, said gravely:
"Haco speaks well, my father; and methinks it is due to both that
Edith should not, unconsulted, be abandoned by him for whom she has
abjured all others; to whom she has been as devoted in heart as if
sworn wife already. Leave we awhile my brother, never the slave of
passion, and with whom England must at last prevail over all selfish
thought; and ride we at once to tell to Edith what we have told to
him; or rather--woman can best in such a case speak to woman--let us
tell all to our Lady--Edward's wife, Harold's sister, and Edith's holy
godmother--and abide by her counsel. On the third day we shall
return."
"Go we so charged, noble Gurth," said Haco, observing the prelate's
reluctant countenance, "and leave we our reverend father to watch over
the Earl's sharp struggle."
"Thou speakest well, my son," said the prelate, "and thy mission suits
the young and the layman, better than the old and the priest."
"Let us go, Haco," said Gurth, briefly. "Deep, sore, and lasting, is
the wound I inflict on the brother of my love; and my own heart bleeds
in his; but he himself hath taught me to hold England as a Roman held
Rome."
CHAPTER X.
It is the nature of that happiness which we derive from our affections
to be calm; its immense influence upon our outward life is not known
till it is troubled or withdrawn. By placing his heart at peace, man
leaves vent to his energies and passions, and permits their current to
flow towards the aims and objects which interest labour or arouse
ambition. Thus absorbed in the occupation without, he is lulled into
a certain forgetfulness of the value of that internal repose which
gives health and vigour to the faculties he employs abroad. But once
mar this scarce felt, almost invisible harmony, and the discord
extends to the remotest chords of our active being. Say to the
busiest man whom thou seest in mart, camp, or senate, who seems to
thee all intent upon his worldly schemes, "Thy home is reft from thee
--thy household gods are shattered--that sweet noiseless content in the
regular mechanism of the springs, which set the large wheels of thy
soul into movement, is thine nevermore!"--and straightway all exertion
seems robbed of its object--all aim of its alluring charm. "Othello's
occupation is gone!" With a start, that man will awaken from the
sunlit visions of noontide ambition, and exclaim in his desolation
anguish, "What are all the rewards to my labour now thou hast robbed
me of repose? How little are all the gains wrung from strife, in a
world of rivals and foes, compared to the smile whose sweetness I knew
not till it was lost; and the sense of security from mortal ill which
I took from the trust and sympathy of love?"