William the Conqueror: a historical romance ... Sir Sir W. Napier, editor

Preface

. Th.s Romance was written about 1837, when Sir C. Napier was suffering under the injustice of Sir Frederick Adam. The preface is a humorous allusion to himself, as Mr. Peter Grievous, vainly seeking redress ; for to laugh at, and joke upon his own misfortunes, was with him an absolute necessity. The blow given to his commander was indeed metaphorical, but never forgotten or forgiven — a book exposing the red-tapism and injustice of official power was inexpiable. Some resemblance will be found in parts to Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton's romance of " Harold ; " especially the creation of the Vala. But Sir C. Napier's work was composed years before Sir Edward's was published. It was originally called Harold also, and was sent to Mr. Colburn, the designed publisher, who kept it for many months : indeed it was with much trouble Sir Charles could get it back.

That Sir Edward then read the manuscript, and gave an opinion to Colburn on its merit, — a favourable opinion, — seems certain. Sarcastic political irony runs through the Romance of " William the Conqueror : " it was excited at the time of writing by the Reform agitation ; and it is not a little remarkable that most of the rules for good government so pointed at, were afterwards realized by the Author in Scinde, when he had conquered that province. W. NAPIER, Lieut.-General. AUTHOR'S

PREFACE.

. Reader, a preface to a book is like a brass collar on a gentleman's dog ; therefore this book shall have a preface ; and the reader should give it his best attention, as a Secre tary of State would promise, when called upon to examine into some matter to which he has not the slightest in tention of giving any attention at all, and which probably he would not understand if he did. Now for my preface. I have edited this history for my friend, Mr. Peter Grievous, a full cornet upon half-pay, dwelling discontentedly in the town of Caen, but hoping to draw from the public certain sums of money. Cornet Grievous has been extremely ill-used by the Horse Guards. Cornet Grievous served full one year in the 1st regiment of Life Guards, the greatest part of which period was passed in the unhealthy climate of Knightsbridge, amidst the noxious exhalations of mountain dew, and other mias mata, highly injurious to the constitution.

His severe trials caused a violent scorbutic humour to cover the whole extremity of his nose, producing debility of constitution, and irritability of temperament. The first author's preface. VIII generally prevented his performing any duty, except that of regularly drawing his pay ; the second became so great, that after many other insolences and acts of indiscipline, both towards those lie commanded, and towards those who commanded him, he one day lost all command of himself and struck his superior officer ! — For this he was very cruelly cashiered by a general court-martial ; and it was strongly rumoured that some ferocious members talked of shooting him, so blood-thirsty does the dreadful trade of war make these legalized butchers ! His Majesty, feeling some tenderness for a man whose health had been sacrificed in the service of his country, restored my ill-used cousin to his commission, but placed him on half-pay, with an assurance in public orders, that he should never again serve his Majesty in any other capacity.

Royalty, advised by the Commander-in-Chief, was so obdurate on this point that my gallant cousin, finding it impossible to get on full-pay, then applied for the Guelphic order of knighthood, to commemorate his bold ness — evinced in striking a commanding officer of huge stature, exceedingly large moustaches, and standing in the midst of his myrmidons — Grievous being only a King John's man — five feet nothing ! He failed ! INTRODUCTION, BY PETER GRIEVOUS. Caen, 1837. The public should know in what manner I became pos sessed of the original manuscript containing the history of William the Conqueror. I am a man of advanced age, very ill-looking, and much worse tempered ; discontent seems to be my trade in this world, and therefore I am careful of my health. I am fond of walking alone, and then my face becomes marvellously fixed and wizened ; on such occasions, I look as Sir Hudson Lowe did when he turned Napoleon's coffee sour !

With this look, one day, walking near the town of Caen, cursing French roads, where the ditches are little more than ruts, and the ruts little less than ditches, I suddenly came upon a romantic-looking, fortress-like ruin. The chivalry of the dark ages rose before me. "Zounds!" said I, "here have been men of tilt and tournament ere now ! this must have been the dwelling of some ancient vagabond with his pot-lid and spit ! From this fortress he .sallied forth like a spider upon a X

Introduction

. fly, or the keeper of an English turnpike on a traveller. Let us learn the story of this ancient highwayman's den. I accosted a French farmer who stood at the gate. " What is the history of this cursed old house 1" He returned as cross a look as my own, but made no answer. He was a huge, broad-faced Norman knave, looking as if he had kept bullocks all his life, and grown half into one himself. I did not look if he had horns, for a pretty little Frenchwoman came to the gate, and I reasoned by analogy. " Sir," said I again, to the semi-bullock, " What building have you here ?" " The Gendarmerie Monsieur," answered his pretty wife, smartly. " The devil fetch the gendarmes " quoth I ; " one can't take a pinch of snuff in France, but a gendarme has his finger in your box." " But sir, this gendarmerie was built a thousand years ago !

Will you see the place 1" " Willingly." Having examined the ruins, I was about to take leave, when the lively brunette, who had given me full information upon all those subjects with which she was acquainted, and of which I was peculiarly desirous of remaining igno rant, observed, that her husband, digging in his garden, had found an iron box, which she would show me, as " Monsieur was apparently a judge of antiquities." The lady showed her iron box : it contained an old ma-

INTRODUCTION.

. XI nuscript, professing to be, " The History of William the j Conqueror, Duke of Normandy." Written in very old J French, and wrapped in a wax cloth, it remained in excel lent preservation, and is here translated into our own language. PETER GRIEVOUS. N.B. — One of our contemporaries has justly advised, that in novels, too many words should not be drawn from the obsolete glossary of ancient times. The advice is good when fictions are to be composed ; but in a veracious translation from an authenticated original, like the present work, this caution is not necessary ; for the Saxon actors spoke Saxon, and the Nordmans spoke the ancient Norman dialect.

Chapter I

Sir William Mallet, a Norman knight, — Remember how he once could fight. I AM now one hundred years of age. Half a century has rolled by since we fought at Hastings; and with those years have passed away my friends ! Amongst those Norman warriors, few were older than myself; and even the oldest trod with a firm step, and struck a heavy blow. The sun of life then shone bright and steady ; but the clouds of death have arisen, and my rays of joy are now faint and rare. The companions of my boyhood are all dead ! Dead are they also, at whose side I tilted in the tournament and fought in the battle ! Friends and foes are now alike to me. I look down upon the past as the towering eagle casts his keen glance upon the earth below. And, alas ! alas ! wherever my thoughts fly, they alight upon a grave— the grave of some companion !

This is age ! This is what we covet ! This is that life to which we wretched mortals cling ! The bitterest days of suffering have passed and leave no pain — the proudest are gone and leave no comfort ! But let these sad reflections cease. Let me chronicle events while my memory is clear and strong ; giving my experience to the young, and then let the tomb receive me. I was born at Caen, and bred as became a man of high lineage. My horse, my sword, my lance, and myself were inseparable. A monk of Bayeux, where the Scandinavian language is still cultivated, ofttimes read to me about the exploits of the heroes of the Edda. The dying song of Lodbrok was my delight. I, too, longed to " strike with the glaive," for my blood was from the warriors of Odin, and like B my ancestors I thirsted for battle.

Nature had cast me in a gigantic mould ; lew men could rival me in strength when I had reached my twentieth year. Taciturn in disposition, I spoke but little at the festive board, but in the combat my shout was terrible. My comrades, seeing that my blows fell heavy, called me " The Mallet'' It became familiar ; and, having borne it eighty years, I preserve it for their sakes by whom it was bestowed, and have given it to my children instead of Ragnar, which was the name I inherited from my Scandinavian ancestors. Thus much of myself. Now for the history of my great master, William, duke of Normandy and king of England. Here, writes his amanuensis, the young and lively Robert Wace, Sir William Mallet drew up his tall figure, as his arms rested on his high-backed elbow-chair of English oak ; his look was solemn and pious, his eyes directed to heaven, his brows contracted, as if in suffering : for a few moments he seemed thoughtful, and then exclaimed, " O God ! what is life ! — what is memory !

But, come, let us begin our labour." " Perhaps, noble sir, you have difficulty in remembering things so long passed," observed his youthful scribe, respectfully. " No, boy ; but I have much difficulty in forgetting : mighty men and mighty deeds congregate in my mind, and I seek to marshal them in their places and their dates ; and every place and date brings crowds to my thoughts and to my heart. This is my difficulty, good youth ; I want to forget. Alas ! it is easy to remember." The knight paused for a while, and then continued : — I will begin my narrative by a brief account of the state of Normandy during the life of Robert, the father of William the Conqueror. It will give a better understanding of the times I have to describe. Here the knight again fell into a reverie, seeking to recover the past by the scintillations of his memory : so sun beams piercing through small chinks, oftentimes illuminate, by pencils of brilliant but powdery light, the recesses of some dark cavern.

Chapter II

The State of Normandy doth show, Setting her dukes all in a row. It is known that Richard, the second of that name, was fourth duke of Normandy ; that he left his eldest son, Richard the Third, heir to the dukedom, and that to his second son, Robert, he gave the earldom of Exmes, on con dition that he did homage to his brother, the duke, as his liege lord. Now, Robert, upon his father's death, revolted against his brother, and threw himself into the town of Falaise, where he hoped to make an efficacious resistance ; but Duke Richard besieged the town, and forced him to obedience. However, returning to Rouen, after the siege, the duke, with many of his friends, died suddenly by poison, and public opinion fixed the crime upon Robert. Of the justice of this opinion we cannot now judge. However, a few years after, Robert became duke, to the prejudice of his nephew Nicholas, the natural son of Richard the Third.

The reasons why this child did not succeed to the dukedom are very clear (not because he was a natural son, for that, besides being doubtful, would, if certain, make no bar to the suc cession, according to the Norman laws). But Nicholas was an infant, and his father dying suddenly was thereby pre vented from the exercise of his right to nominate a successor. The uncle of Nicholas was a powerful chief ; the nobles had therefore to choose between a child who, not having been named successor to the duchy, had but an implied claim to their fealty on the one hand, and on the other, a strong baron, who stood armed to enforce his demand of the dukedom. When men are so situated they seldom hesitate. Robert, count of Exmes, was at once installed in the duchy of Normandy, and his nephew Nicholas consigned to the more tranquil life of a monastery. b 2 ' There does not appear to be any good reason to find fault with the decision made by the Norman barons, because there can be no inherent right in a child to rule over men, except such right be given by the law, and that law be advantageous to the people.

Now the Norman law gave no such right to this child, though it had a natural claim which perhaps ought to have been admitted, il it could have been attended to with safety ; but this, so far from being the case, was precisely the reverse, and an attempt to pro claim Nicholas duke of Normandy would have probably deluged the country in blood. Robert then became duke of Normandy. No sooner was this chief in possession of his dukedom, than his uncle, the archbishop of Rouen, his cousins, Hugh, bishop of Bayeux, and William de Belesme, earl of Alencon, together with Alain, duke of Brittany, drew the sword against Duke Robert. The two bishops he quickly put down, but the warlike William de Belesme, surnamed Talvas, was more resolute in his rebellion than the bishops. Duke Robert was, however, too strong, and Talvas being besieged, surrendered himself a prisoner, and went through the humiliating ceremony — not unusual in those days — of presenting himself bareheaded and barefooted, with a saddle fixed on his back, that the victor might ride, if so it pleased him to do !

Such a peace did not last longer than was necessary to the disgraced Talvas. He again took arms to obtain ven geance, was unsuccessful, and lost his own life, and the lives of three out of his four bold and ferocious sons — GueYin, Faulkes, Robert, and William. Of these, the last only survived, and received the surname of his father, Talvas. Robert then overpowered his last enemy, the duke of Brittany, who, after a troublesome war, acknowledged the sovereignty of Duke Robert ; and the latter thus remained undisputed master of Normandy. At this period, Beaudouin, earl of Flanders, contracted a marriage between his son Beaudouin and Adele, daughter of Robert the Pious, king of France, by Queen Constance. The young Beaudouin rebelled, and overthrew his father, who fled to Normandy. Duke Robert received him, and raising troops, fell upon Flanders with great fury, overran it, ana established the old earl in his sovereignty of that country.

No sooner had this good deed been so boldly executed, than the court of Robert saw another exile arrive. King Robert of France, surnamed the Pious, died, and left his son Henry to succeed ; but Constance, the stepmother of Henry, chased him from the throne, and he fled for succour to Duke Robert of Normandy. This able man saw the advantage of assisting an exiled king, not banished by his subjects, but by the unnatural hostility of his mother, who wanted to place a younger brother on the throne. Duke Robert once more then drew the sword in favour of a wronged sovereign, overthrew the troops of Constance in every battle, and replaced Henry on the throne. For this good service, Henry increased his dukedom by the acquirement of Pontoise, Chaumont, Giros, and, in short, all the territory known by the name of the French Vexin, whose earl, Dragon, was married to the sister of Edward, called the Confessor, king of England. At this period a great famine befell the land, and as it is the most distant event I can remember, it shall here be shortly described.

Chapter III

How Normandy was in a hobble, And hungry men did children gobble. The awful scourge of famine, which the ignorance and frailty oC men occasionally inflict upon nations, raged through the land with unsparing violence. It began by an extraordinary abundance of wild herbs, which sprung up with a wonderful profusion and devoured the grain ; the crops perished. From the earl to the churl all were sorely pressed by this terrible pest. The rich and powerful obtained a scanty supply of food by force of arms, while thousands of the poor fell victims to want. The times were ferocious, but hunger turned men into wolves ; even the gentle became fierce, and humanity seemed to have abandoned the human heart. I well remember the events of this period. At that time my father lived where the church of St. Etienne now stands ; it was without the walls of Caen ; but he was potent, and the potent may dwell where they please.

Even now, boy, in these troubled times, who dare insult old William Mallet in the midst of his strong gens d'armerie 1 None, by the Rood ! none ! No, not even yon proud and noble city of Caen, with its strong walls and frowning castle, its torrent-swept ditches and its rock -built towers ! Were Caen and the strong Mallet to quarrel, fair youth, the saucy citizens should soon learn that the head of an old warrior is more dangerous than the arm of a young soldier. I would, from this stronghold, so close their river, that not alone their boats of commerce, but their very fishes should not visit Caen ! But to continue. One terrible evening my family were as usual assembled, when sounds of tumult were heard, and cries of distress followed, so piercing, that, accustomed as we were to horrors, and conscious of the danger which attended any inter ference between famine and food, we sallied forth, well armed, in case of need.

Ah, me ! the sight which soon presented itself was piteous ! A gentleman, no longer able to protect himself in the country, had sought shelter within Caen. Thinking himself safe when close to the walls, he and his servants dofled their armour, and laid it on the carts, one of which carried his wife and children. No sooner had they proceeded a few steps than a band of desperate men, who were lying in ambush for plunder, fell upon the unhappy family. Short was the struggle, loud the screams they sent forth, but ere we arrived they were all murdered, and their assassins prepared to resist us. " Villains ! " quoth my father, " what have ye done 1" " Done ! " retorted they ; " done, sayest thou 1 Why, what all do that famish — sought for food, sir knight, and found it ; nor shalt thou and thy followers take it from us."

There was such famine in their look, such determination in their mien, that our blood curdled within us. We could perhaps, have destroyed them, but we felt fearfully attacked ourselves by the terrible impulse under which they acted ; each man felt sickened by his own dreadful thoughts, and in agony we returned to our home. "The hand of God is heavy upon the land," said my father, as he encountered the terrified looks of my mother. " Ask me not questions, for I can tell you of nought but horror ; when hunger begins, dread deeds follow. Let us pray and abide events ; they close around us in fearful forms. For many days our own food has been insufficient, and where to get more I know not. The hand of God is upon the land." So saying, he looked upon us all for a few moments, and then threw himself down, all armed as he was, upon the bed, and covering his face, spoke no more that night.

We all went to bed ; few slept, — famine had begun its workings. The magistrates seized upon food for distribution ; none were allowed to have more than the portion allotted by the authorities, and this was the same through the whole country : all were starving. The next day we went armed into the town, to receive our allotted portion of aliment. Passing through the Place St. Martin we saw an execution ; the governor, in his endeavours to preserve his rule, and afford protection to the inhabitants, had ordered the death of a wretched man who had forced a guard, and seized upon food. The gallows was surrounded by the armed burghers and the spearmen of the castle. All seemed downcast, weak, and emaciated ; a strong force of bowmen lined that part of the walls which looked upon the place of execution.

The curious crowd pressed upon the armed men ; their looks were terrible, their pale and hunger -worn faces, their anxious, fiery eyes, beaming from sunken sockets, were appalling. They cried aloud for bread ; it was one shriek of Bread ! bread ! bread ! The culprit alone seemed happy. The executioner proceeded with his sad labour ; my blood runs cold as I think upon that famished multitude ot citizens. We proceeded towards the church of St. Pierre, at the door of which provisions were issued, and again were our feelings harassed by doleful sounds and sad sights. The groans of families dying with hunger issued from every smaller house ; the whole city seemed one cavern of de spair ; while from the strong, fortified houses of the nobles issued bands of armed men, resolved to take food wherever they could find it.

Human bones were scattered in the streets ; where the flesh was gone, no man asked ; it had not been eaten by dogs — there were none ; yet all had been devoured ! the heart sickened at its own thoughts. In passing near the church, a small armed body of desperate men offered cooked meat for sale, at an enormous price. My eye fell upon one. I recognized the leader of the band whom we had spoken with the evening before. I turned my eyes away and staggered forward. " Holy "Virgin! pardon me, sinner that I am !" thought I, forcing myself forward. I dared not look back at the proffered meat : hunger and horror were at fearful strife within me ! We went on — our turn came — our portion was held out, and with desperate struggling we got hold of it ; my mother and sisters absorbed every feeling — I was the strongest man in Caen, and ferociously struck down all who approached the loaf given to my charge.

All were feeble, and all within reach of my blows were felled by my heavy gaunt letted hand. We thus returned through the scene of suffering, where no man helped his neighbour — few could help themselves ! At length the long wished - for harvest came, and the owners guarded it with desperate valour. Armed knights patrolled through the country, and every nerve was strained to preserve the coming food from the starving multitude ; much was lost, but that which was preserved miraculously equalled the harvest of five ordinary years, and plenty again blessed the earth. At Rouen the suffering was less. The virtuous Bishop Ausbert, their prelate, was remarkable among the clergy of his time, who were men careless of the commands of our Saviour : the Son of man and of God rode upon an ass, but our clergy drove chariots, and rode upon horses richly capa risoned ; they followed the chase, they mixed in state afiairs.

" My kingdom is not of this world," said our Lord ; yet the priests were given up to this world, wading through blood in search of pelf. Not only were they magistrates, but even warriors clad in steel ; and while they exclaimed with the Pharisee, " Thank God, we are not as other men are," they worshipped lucre more than they worshipped God. But Ausbert was one whose habit was not more holy than his heart. When the famine appeared, he not only parted with all his own wealth, but sold that of the church to distribute to the poor. " For the poor do we hold it," said the good teacher of the faith, " and to the poor let it be given in the hour of their need." Followed by those whom his virtue animated, the vene rable Christian perambulated the streets — waiting upon misery ; where distress was, there was the holy father, administering food, and pouring forth the comfort of religion.

The wretched received from his hands that portion of food which the entire sacrifice of his temporal riches enabled him to purchase and to bestow among them. They were cheered also by his spiritual exhortations : those came from his heart ; God spake comfort through his lips, and men believed ; for while the bishop preached patience, he shared their sufferings. In compliance with our customs, he gave an entertain ment at his inauguration to the rich and powerful of Nor mandy ; but there were two tables, and at the lower table were placed the poor and miserable : among these sat the bishop. " Here," said he, " is my place ; to comfort the afflicted is my avocation ;" and a comforter did the afflicted find him in the hour of trial — scorning alike riches and rest ! Wherever famine raged, there was his crosier to be seen, there was his generous hand, his lowly heart, and his high mind, bent upon serving God and helping man.

The consequences of this venerable prelate's exertions were incalculable : the minor clergy dared not do otherwise, and the riches of the Church were exhausted upon the poor. Thus, the people at Rouen suffered less than at Caen ; the good deed came, and with it came the word of God ; so that all eyes and all hearts looked up to heaven. When Ausbert's foot crossed the threshold of the poor man, all within was peace and resignation, and comfort and confi dence in that great Being who alone can help us, and in whose name he gave food and exhortation. Does not the voice of the hero, rising above the din of battle, animate his warriors to the charge 1 and shall not the mild voice of a Christian teacher, pouring forth hope to virtue and pardon to repentance, cheer hearts broken and sad 1 We behold him calm in the midst of worldly dangers ; we see him cheerful in the midst of worldly sorrows ; the smile of con tempt curls upon his lips at worldly temptations, and we believe him when he preaches Faith, Hope, and Charitt to man !

He rolls not in chariots, he wallows not in sin ; his life is the guarantee of his sincerity. But when a proud priesthood is bloated with riches and swollen with ambition, it draws down the vengeance of God. Then men, unable to endure its insolence, break the desecrated Church to pieces, and stone its servants with the fragments. The Almighty thus vindicates religion from the invasions of hypocrisy. The year following this great famine died Hadiaise, duchess of Normandy, aunt to Duke Robert. She was a widow ; and her husband, Duke Geoffroy, was slain in a strange way. Returning from a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, he entered an inn with his hawk upon his wrist, as is be coming to all great lords who have regard to their own high dignity, and to the respect of those who behold them. The bird being excited by the view of a fat hen in the yard, and possibly allowing his conscience some latitude in consideration of having made a pilgrimage to the Holy City, pounced upon the unoffending hen, and tore her to pieces.

The inn keeper, who thought much of a cockle-shell with the fish in it, held it cheap when empty, although placed in the hat of a ducal pilgrim, and seemed to think as little of the head as he did of the hat ; for furious, instead of proud, at seeing his hen die so honourably, the enraged churl seized a stone, and, hurling it with deadly force, struck the duke from his horse with a mortal blow. Thus the noble aunt of Robert the Devil became an in consolable widow ; yet, such were the disorders of those times among the wild Bretons, that this vile churl, who destroyed the noble duke of Bretagne, was probably only burned alive for his atrocious act, which ought naturally to have been expiated by several days of exquisite torture, such as the good and great Duke William would have applied, for he well knew the respect due from base-born vassals to their lords !

Holy Virgin ! how he made them repent ; and how pleasant and stern he looked when directing the executioner not to hurry the torture : " Speed him not so fast," he would exclaim, " the caitiff will grow numb, and take no pleasure in my largesse !" Alas ! alas ! the good old days, when belted knights were respected by the vulgar, have passed in Normandy ; but in England, the Saxon vulgar are still kept in due submission. Our Norman chevaliers nobly uphold their dignity with the sword and the rack : the land they won with hardy blows, they hold with wholesome severity. Here the old warrior looked so stern, says his amanuensis — in a note of his own, of which several are still legible — that I trembled lest he should have imagined any looks of mine to be disrespectful ; in which case he would have set me on the fire, or used any other means of torture which came to his hand ; for though a good and kind master, he was very hasty and obdurate, if he thought due respect was not paid him ; indeed, an old squire of his told me, that once in battle his master nearly lost his life in the rescue of a Saxon slave, whom he saved with great gene rosity and desperate courage ; yet a few days after, thinking the man disrespectful, he slit his nose, and cut off his ears.