by A. D. Crake
board"drew near. From forest and field came in ceorl and theow, hanging uptheir weapons or agricultural implements around the lower end of thehall. Meanwhile the domestics brought in large tressels, and then hugeheavy boards, which they arranged so as to form the dining table, shapedlike the letter T, the upper portion being furnished with the richestdainties for the family and their guest, the lower with simpler fare forthe dependents.
A wild boar caught in the forest formed the chief dish, and was placedat the upper end, while mutton and beef; dressed in various ways,flanked it on either side.
The thane, Ella, occupied the central seat at the high table: his chair,rudely carved, had borne the weight of his ancestors before him; on hisleft hand was seated the once lovely Edith. Age had deprived her of heryouthful beauty, but not of the sweet expression which told of hergentleness and purity of heart; they had left their impress on each lineof her speaking countenance; and few left her presence unimpressed withrespect and esteem.
On his right hand sat Prince Edwy, "Edwy the fair" men called him, andright well he deserved the name. His face was one which inspiredinterest at a glance: his large blue eyes, his golden hair which floatedover his shoulders, his sweet voice, his graceful bearing, all united toimpress the beholders.
Elfric, Alfred, and their sister Edgitha, completed the company at thehigh table.
The hungry crowd of ceorls and serfs, who were, as we have said, freshfrom field or forest, sat at the lower table, which was spread with hugejoints of roasted meat, loaves of bread, wedges of cheese, piles ofcabbage or other vegetables, rolls or coils of broiled eels, and hugepieces of boiled pork or bacon.
Around the table sat the hounds and other dogs, open jawed, waiting suchgood luck as they might hope to receive at the hands of their masters,while many "loaf eaters," as the serfs were called who fed at theirmaster's table, stood with the dogs, or sat on the rush-strewn floor,for want of room at the board.
It was marvellous to see how the food disappeared, as hand after handwas stretched out to the dishes, in the absence of forks--a moderninvention--and huge horns of ale helped the meat downwards.
Game, steaks of beef and venison on spits, were handed round. Thechoicer joints were indeed reserved for the upper board, but profusionwas the rule everywhere throughout the hall, and there was probably nota serf; nay, not even a dog, whose appetite was not fully satisfiedbefore the end of the feast.
The prince seemed thoroughly to have recovered his spirits, somewhatdamped perhaps before by his adventure with the wolf; and exerted histalents to make himself agreeable. He had seen life on an extendedscale, young as he was, and his anecdotes of London and the court, if alittle wild, were still interesting. Elfric and Alfred listened to hissomewhat random talk, with that respect boys ever pay to those who haveseen more of the wide world than themselves--a respect perhapsheightened by the high rank of their princely guest, who was, however,only a month or two older than Elfric.
As they heard of the marvels of London, and of the court, home and itsattractions seemed to become dim by comparison, and Elfric especiallylonged to share such happiness.
Their father seemed to wish to change the conversation, as he asked theprince whether he had been long in Mercia.
Edwy replied, "Nay, my host; this is almost my first day of perfectfreedom, and I only left London, and my uncle the king, a few days back.Dunstan has gone down to Glastonbury, for which the Saints be thanked,and I am released for a few days from poring over the musty oldmanuscripts to which he dooms me."
"It is well, my prince, that you should have a preceptor so wellqualified to instruct you in the arts your great ancestor King Alfred sonobly adorned."
"Ah yes, Alfred," said Edwy, yawning; "but you know we can't all besaints or heroes like him: for my part, I sometimes wish he had neverlived."
The astonished looks of the company seemed to demand further explanation.
"Because it is always, 'Alfred did this,' and 'Alfred did that.' If I amtired of '_hic, haec, hoc_,' I am told Alfred was never weary; if Icomplain of a headache, Dunstan says Alfred never complained of pain orillness, but bore all with heroic fortitude, and all the rest of it. IfI want a better dinner than my respected uncle gives us on fast days inthe palace, I am told Alfred never ate anything beyond a handful ofparched corn on such days; if I lose my temper, I am told Alfred neverlost his; and so on, till I get sick of his name; and here it greets mein the woods of Mercia."
"I crave pardon, my liege," said Ella, who hardly knew whether to smileor frown at the sarcastic petulance of his guest, who went on with a slysmile--"And now old Dunstan does not know where I am. He left me witha huge pile of books in musty Latin, or crabbed English, and I had toread this and to write that, as if I were no prince, but a scrivener,and had to get my living by my pen; but as soon as he was gone I had aheadache, and persuaded my venerable uncle the king, through thephysician, that I needed change of air."
"But what will Dunstan say?"
"Oh, he must fight it out with Sigebert the leech, and Sigebert knowswhich side his bread is buttered."
The whole tone of Edwy indicated plainly that the headache was but apretence, but he spoke with such sly simplicity that the boys could nothelp joining in his contagious laughter; sympathising, doubtless, in hislove of a holiday in the woods.
"Your headache is not gone yet, I trust, my prince," said Elfric.
"Why?" said Edwy, turning his eyes upon him with a smile.
"Because we have splendid woods near here for hunting, and I must have"(he whispered these words into Edwy's ear) "a headache, too."
Edwy quite understood the request conveyed in these words, and turningto the old thane requested him to allow his boys to join the sport onthe morrow as a kind of bodyguard, adding some very complimentary wordson the subject of Elfric's courage shown in the rescue that afternoon.
"Why, yes," said the old thane, "I have always tried to bring up theboys so as to fear neither man nor beast, and Elfric did indifferentlywell in the tussle. So he has earned a holiday for himself and brother,with Father Cuthbert's leave," and Ella turned to the ecclesiastic.
"They are good boys," said the priest, "only, my lord, Elfric issomewhat behind in his studies."
Elfric's looks expressed his contempt of the "studies," but he dared notexpress the feeling before his father.
"But I trust, my prince," said Ella, "that we shall not keep you fromyour duties at court. Dunstan is a severe, although a holy man."
"Oh, he is gone to have another encounter with the Evil One atGlastonbury, and is fashioning a pair of tongs for the purpose," saidEdwy, alluding to the legend already current amongst the credulouspopulace; "and I wish," he muttered, "the Evil One would get the best ofit and fly away with him. But" (in a louder tone) "he cannot return fora month, which means a month's holiday for me."
Ella could interpose no further objection, although scarcely satisfiedwith the programme.
The conversation here became general. It turned upon the subject ofhunting and war, and the enthusiasm of young Edwy quite captivated thethane, who seemed to see Edmund, the father of the young prince, beforehis eyes, as he had known him in his own impetuous youth. Dear, indeed,had that prince been to Ella, both before and after his elevation to thethrone, and as he heard the sweet boyish voice of Edwy, his thoughtswere guided by memory to that ill-omened feast at Pucklechurch, wherethe vindictive outlaw Leolf had murdered his king. The sword of Ella hadbeen amongst those which avenged the crime on the murderer, but theycould not call back the vital spark which had fled. "Edmund theMagnificent," as they loved to call him, was dead. [v]
So, as Ella listened, he could hardly help condoning the wild speechesof the young prince in deference to the memory of the past.
And now they removed the festive board from the hall, while kneelingserfs offered basin and towel to the thane and his guest to wash theirhands. Wine began to circulate freely in goblets of wood inlaid withgold or silver; the clinking of cups, the drinking of healths andpledges open
ed the revel, cupbearers poured out the wine. The glee-wood(harp) was introduced, while pipes, flutes, and soft horns accompaniedits strains. So they sang--
Here Athelstane king,Of earls the lord,To warriors the ring-giverGlory world-longHad won in the strife,By edge of the sword,At Brunanburgh.
And Ella--who had stood by his father's side in that dread field whereDanes, Scots, and Welshmen fled before the English sword--listenedwith enthusiasm, till he thought of his brother Oswald, when tears,unobserved, rolled down his cheeks.
Not so with the boys. They had no secret sorrow to hide, and theylistened like those whose young blood boils at the thought of mightydeeds, and longed to imitate them. And when the gleeman finished hislengthy flight of music and poesy, they applauded him till the roof