CHAPTER VIII. FATHER CUTHBERT'S DIARY.
St. Matthew's Day, 1006.--
It is with a heavy heart that I take up my pen to write the events ofthe last few days. They have been so calamitous, so unexpected. Wehave heard of such things afar off, we had prayed for our brethren inWessex, exposed to similar calamities, and now they have fallen uponus personally. May God, who alone is sufficient for these things, giveus strength to bear all for His name's sake.
It was a fortnight ago, and our harvest was all gathered in. God hadblessed our increase, and our garners were full with all manner ofstore; women and children had mainly been the reapers, but the LadyHilda herself had been present amongst them, and so had her daughter,my niece, Ethelgiva, even sometimes labouring with their own hands.
Alfgar and Bertric had worked like common serfs, and did themselveshonour thereby, for true nobility lies not in being idle, save in thefield of battle, as the bloody Northmen vainly think.
Well, the work was over, and we had a mass of thanksgiving, afterwhich Bertric and Alfgar went hunting in the forest. In the eveningthere was a harvest home; it was of course a strange one without themen, who were afar off, fighting for their country, but we tried to bethankful for mercies vouchsafed, and I and Father Adhelm were there tobless the food.
We found a large party assembled--as many, indeed, as the hall wouldcontain. My sister, the Lady Hilda, was somewhat uneasy, becauseAlfgar and Bertric were not yet back, but still not much alarmed, forwhat harm could befall such lads in the woods? So I blessed the foodand the feast commenced.
Eating and drinking were over, and the old gleeman, striking his harp,was beginning a song of harvest home, when in rushed the two youngtheows who had gone out with Alfgar and Bertric, with the startlingintelligence that there was a band of Northmen lurking in the woods,who had seized their young lords, and were, they thought, bent onattacking the place.
Words of mine cannot paint the terror and dismay the tidings caused;the scene of distress and fear is yet before my eyes as I write. Onewoman rose superior to fear--the Lady Hilda; aided by her, I stilledthe tumult, and we took hasty counsel together.
Nothing could be done for the poor lads, and the preservation of thelives of the whole population depended upon our promptitude. It waswonderful to see how the mother stifled her agony in her own breast,while she strove to remember that, in the absence of her lord, she wasin charge of the safety of all her people, and the mother of all. Ihad already interrogated the two churls; their story was but tooevidently true; and I learned that they had discovered the footmarksof the Northmen in crossing a ford that afterwards, while returninghastily home, they stumbled upon them, and Alfgar and Bertric weretaken. The party were evidently awaiting the approach of night, andwere doubtless bent on attacking the castle and village.
Fifty men! and how could we resist them? The poor old gleemenexpressed their readiness to fight for the old hall, and so did eventhe boys; but these accursed pagans are the very spawn of the evilone, and fight like fiends, whom they equal in skill, so that I saw atonce there was no chance in resistance.
But there was safety in retreat and flight, and under ourcircumstances no dishonour in so seeking it. So I saw the path clearat once, and not a minute too soon.
In the depths of the forest, about ten miles from Aescendune, in theopposite direction to that in which the enemy lay, is a solitaryvalley, surrounded by such morasses and quagmires that only those whoknow the paths could safely journey thither. But the valley isfertile, and my father years ago built a substantial farm house withoutbuildings there, which has ever since been occupied by our chiefforester.
Thither I saw at once the whole party must retreat, alike from thehall, the priory, and the village. In such a way only could they hopeto escape the wretches to whom bloodshed and cruelty are pastimes.
Yet I was deeply puzzled to understand what motive could have broughta war party so far, and why they had passed so many flourishing homesto come to poor secluded Aescendune. Surely, thought I, there is somegreat mystery hidden in this, which time may perhaps show.
In a brief space of time, shorter, indeed, than under othercircumstances we should have conceived possible, everything wasprepared; horses were loaded with provisions and all things necessaryfor immediate use. Old men and children were also mounted, who couldnot otherwise travel, and we started. It was indeed painful to partfrom home, and to leave all we had to the mercy of the Danes, but"skin for skin, all that a man hath will he give for his life."
So soon as I saw the party safely away from the town, I left themunder the guidance of some ancient foresters, who knew every woodlandpath, and hastened to my brethren, who had been duly forewarned, andwere awaiting my arrival. I found them prepared for immediatedeparture. We had a large flat-bottomed boat on the river which washesthe monastery garden; they had placed all the sacred vessels and thetreasure of the priory therein, and had sent the novices and laybrethren to seek their safety with the rest in the woods, only thebrethren, properly so called, remaining.
And now, ready for immediate flight, we went forth with calmcomposure, which God sent us. Then, upon the brink of the stream, westopped and listened. No sound broke the dread silence of the night,and we stood in perfect quiet for some minutes.
At last we heard the sound of muffled footsteps, as of those who sneakabout on the devil's work, approaching the priory, and we pushed theboat into the stream. The moon had not yet arisen; it was quite dark.It was the one boat near.
We knew well what they were doing--surrounding the priory to preventany chance of escape, supposing, of course, that their victims wouldbe within. This accomplished, they knocked loudly at the doors, andreceiving no answer, raised their fierce battle cry, and looked,happily in vain, for the pallid faces they expected to see at windowsor loopholes. Then they proceeded to break the doors down with theirbattle-axes. A similar din, beginning a moment before, told us thatthe hall and the priory were simultaneously attacked.
We had heard enough. We let the boat drop down the stream till wereached a small island, where we waited to see the end, praising theLord who had not delivered us over for a prey unto their teeth.
While we waited in suspense, we saw a fierce light flash forth fromthe hall, and perceived that, having plundered it of all that wasportable, they had fired it in many places at once; and while welooked, we saw our own once happy home share the same fate, andemulate the hall in sending forth its volume of ruddy flame towardsthe skies.
This we had waited for, and we held council, and decided that, havingno home, the brethren should depart with the sacred vessels andtreasure to the mother house at Abingdon, while I remained, as alsoFather Adhelm, to minister to our afflicted flock in the woods as bestwe might.
Alas for our poor priory! the foundation of Offa and Ella, once thelight of the neighbourhood! but now our candlestick is removed out ofits place.
Our minds being made up as to the course to be pursued, we rowedquietly down the stream, fearing pursuit.
Down the stream about two hours' journey an old Roman road, leadingsouthward, crossed the river, where a bridge had once existed, longsince swept away by time, but there was a tolerable ford quite safe,save in winter floods.
Hard by stood a hostelry, and thither we journeyed in ourheavily-laden bark.
The light of the conflagration grew dimmer as we rowed down thestream, but it still lighted up the heavens with an angry glare. Itwas yet deep night when we drew near the inn, and we lay awhile on ouroars, to listen for signs of pursuit; but there was nought to disturbthe dead silence of the night, so we proceeded.
All the household were buried in sleep when we knocked at the doors--aproof that they had not observed the redness in the skies, or littlesleep, I trow, would they have taken.
We were so exhausted with the fatigues and excitement of the enemy,that we hailed this lonely habitation as a little Zoar. It showed howsafe people were feeling in Mercia, that we could not wake the goodpeople for a long time, a
nd we were getting impatient, for they seemedlike the seven holy sleepers of Ephesus, awaiting the cessation ofpersecution. I wish we could all sleep like those Ephesians, and awakein better days.
But their dogs were awake, and saluted us with a vociferous barking,and would not allow us to land until they were driven away by the oarswhich our theows used with much effect upon their hides.
At last a window was thrown open above.
"Who are you who travel at this time of night?" said a voice, whichtried to be firm.
"The poor brethren of St. Benedict from Aescendune."
"Now the saints help thy lying tongue," thus irreverently he spoke,"do holy men travel like robbers in dead of night?"
"Look, my brother, over the tree tops, and you may learn the cause ofour wanderings; dost thou not even yet see the angry glare in theheavens? It is from Aescendune; the Danes have burned it."
"Good lack, poor Aescendune! and the people?"
"Are all safe, we trust, in body."
"God be praised!" and the host hurried down and admitted us.
His wife hasted to light a good fire, and to prepare us a breakfast;in short, we had fallen amongst the faithful, and we met greathospitality, for which may God repay the worthy host, Goodman Wiglaf.
We were so fatigued in mind and body that we no sooner lay down thanwe fell asleep, and slept until the sun was high in the heavens.
Wiglaf watched the river jealously to see that no foe pursued; but, aswe afterwards learned, they had other things to think of.
The road which ran across the river at this spot continued southwardinto Wessex, and, so far as we could learn, was free from danger, so Idetermined to send my brethren to Abingdon by easy stages along itscourse, while I turned back with Father Adhelm, to share themisfortunes of my kindred and lay brethren in the woods. So weembraced each other and parted; and we two watched, with lovinghearts, until the glades of the forest hid our brethren, dear to us inthe Lord, from our sight, dimmed as were our eyes with tears. Then weplucked up our courage, and turned our thoughts to those others, dearand near to us, who had taken to the woods, where it was again ourduty to seek them.
Wiglaf rowed us back in a light skiff up the stream, not without muchprotest, for he feared the Danes would surely catch us, and at everybend of the stream he crept round, as if he expected to see a fleet ofboats sweep towards us, while he kept in the middle, as if dreading anarrow from every bush. At length we reached the immediateneighbourhood, over which the smoke still hung like a black pall. HereFather Adhelm and I landed, and, giving Wiglaf our blessing, bade himdepart in peace, which the good soul flatly refused to do untilassured of our safety.
So, hiding the boat behind some bushes, we crept forward together,till, getting through the underwood, we came to the edge of thecovert.
Before us lay the fated village, one mass of deformed and blackenedruins, from which the dark smoke ceaselessly arose, and made the airpainful to breathe.
But there was no sign of life; no living thing seemed to breathethere; the place seemed abandoned for ever. It was a dull day, dull asthe gloom which was upon our spirits; the very heavens seemed to haveput on funeral attire, and the chilly wind which swept over the sceneseemed quite at home.
We emerged cautiously from our cover, and soon stood where, a few daysbefore, the priory had risen, beautiful before God; it was but a hugepile of blackened timber and stone; and even more conspicuous aboveall other ruins, by the black smoke it still sent forth, was thatwhich had been the hall.
While we stood and pondered, Wiglaf suddenly started.
"I hear the tramp of men," he said.
Then I listened, and distinctly heard the footfall of men and horses.We paused; it drew nearer. We were on the point of taking to the woodsagain, when I thought I caught the sound of the word of command in theEnglish tongue, and the voice seemed familiar.
We advanced still cautiously amongst the ruins, until we saw fifty orsixty horsemen cross the wooden bridge which the Danes had leftuninjured, and advance with horror-stricken faces.
They were my brother and his men.
I recognised Elfwyn amongst them. I rushed up to him, and our tearsmingled together.
"They are safe, are safe," I cried.
"Thank God!" broke from many an overcharged heart.
"But where are they? where are they?"
"Safe at the forest farm, protected by brake and morass; and now tellme, how came you here?"
Tidings arrived at headquarters that a small party of Danes weremaking an incursion into Mercia, riding as rapidly as they could, andI obtained Edric Streorn's leave to pursue them, with great difficultyI can tell you, and he would only allow me then to take fifty men.
"He affected to disbelieve the intelligence, and said sarcasticallythat the safety of Wessex could not be neglected for Aescendune. TheNorthmen would never hurt a place which had so distinguished itself onSt. Brice's day."
Here he sighed heavily.
"Elfwyn," I said, "my brother, we must not be ungrateful to God. Hereare ruins indeed, but they cover no dead bodies; all have escaped."
"No, Cuthbert, not all."
I was silent, for I thought of Bertric.
"We have buried him, Cuthbert, in God's peace, in the place hehallowed by his blood."
I saw the tears stream down his manly cheeks. My voice grew so hoarse,somehow, that I could not ask a question.
"I will tell you all we have seen by and by, not now. I could not bearit;" and he covered his face with his hands.
"How did he die?" I stammered at last.
"Like St. Edmund."
I asked no more, but I hope the martyr will forgive me the tears Ished. I know I ought to rejoice that he has gained his crown, but Icannot yet. I shall be able some day.
"How could they find the path through the woods, Cuthbert?" asked mybrother; "how did they know the fords?"
The same question had occurred to me.
Then the words of the churl Beorn, who had been taken prisoner, as themessenger had told us, came fresh to my mind.
"Elfwyn," said I, "do you remember Beorn?"
He looked earnestly at me.
"Did he not say that his captors asked particularly about Aescendune,and that the name of Anlaf was mentioned, and inquiries madeconcerning Alfgar?"
"He did."
"It is the curse of St. Brice's night."
"Fallen upon the innocent."
"Leave it to God," said I.
"I will try; let us go to my people."
And we arose and took the path through the woods, sorrowing for thenews we must carry, and still uncertain about the fate of Alfgar.
Alfgar the Dane or the Second Chronicle of Aescendune Page 9