by A. D. Crake
hour the kingmust have died, he says that he saw a bright light, and beheld a visionof angels, who said, 'Edred hath died in the Lord,' but he treated it asa dream, and last night a messenger came with the news of the suddenillness of the king, bidding Dunstan hasten to his side. He lefteverything, and started immediately, but in a few miles met anothermessenger, bearing the news of the death. He has gone on, but sent themessenger forward to the Bishop of London, who caused the great bell tobe tolled.
"We must all die some day," said Edwy, musingly; "but it is very verysudden."
"And I trust he has obtained a better kingdom," added Redwald; "he must,you know, if the monks tell the truth, so why should we weep for him?"
"At least," said Edwy, looking up, "Elfric need not go home now."
"No, certainly not, but he had better disappear from court for a time.The lady Ethelgiva might afford him hospitality, or he might stay at theroyal palace at Kingston. I will tell the messenger to keep out of theway, and Dunstan may suppose that his orders have been obeyed to theletter."
"Why should we trouble what he may think or say?"
"Because the Witan has not yet met, and until it has gone through theform, the mere form, of recognising your title, you are not actuallyking. Dunstan has some influence. Suppose he should use it for Edgar?"
"Edgar, the pale-faced little priestling!"
"All the better for that in Dunstan's eyes. Nay, be advised, my king;keep all things quiet until the coronation is over, then let Dunstanknow who you are and who he is."
"Indeed I will. He shall have cause to rue his insolent behaviour theother night."
"Bide your time, my liege; and now the great officers of state requireyour presence below."
A few days later a sorrowful procession entered the old city ofWinchester, the capital of Wessex, and once a favourite residence ofEdred, now to be his last earthly resting place. Much had the citizensloved him; and as the long train defiled into the open space around theold minster--old, even then--the vast assemblage, grouped beneaththe trees around the sacred precincts, lifted up their voices and joinedin the funeral hymn, while many wept tears of genuine sorrow. It was aweinspiring, that burst of tuneful wailing, as the monks entered thesacred pile, and it made men's hearts thrill with the sense of theunseen world into which their king had entered, and where, as theybelieved, their supplications might yet follow him.
There were the chief mourners--Edwy and Edgar--and they followed theroyal corpse, the latter greatly afflicted, and shedding genuine tearsof sorrow--and the royal household. All the nobility of Wessex, andmany of the nobles from Mercia and other provinces, were gatheredtogether, and amidst the solemn silence of the vast crowd, Dunstanperformed the last sad and solemn rites with a broken voice; while thearchbishop--Odo the Good, as he was frequently called--assisted inthe dread solemnity.
It was over; the coffin was lowered to the royal vaults to repose inpeace, the incenses had ceased to float dreamily beneath the loftyroof,[xi] the various lights which had borne part in theceremony were extinguished, the choral anthem had ceased, for Edredslept with his fathers.
And outside, the future king was welcomed with loud cries of "God saveKing Edwy, and make him just as Alfred, pious as Edred, and warlike asAthelstane!"
"Long live the heir of Cerdic's ancient line!"
Thus their cries anticipated the decision of the Witan, and without allwas noise and clamour; while within the sacred fane the ashes of him whohad so lately ruled England rested in peace by the side of his royalfather Edward, the son of Alfred, three of whose sons--Athelstane,Edmund, Edred--had now reigned in succession.
It must not be supposed that Edwy was as yet king by the law of theland. The early English writers all speak of their kings as elected; itwas not until the Witan had recognised them, that they were crowned andassumed the royal prerogatives.
Edwy had followed Redwald's advice: he had kept Elfric out of the way,and meant to do so until his coronation day. And meanwhile hecondescended to disguise his real feelings, and to affect sorrow for hispast failings when in the presence of Dunstan.
Yet he took advantage of the greater liberty he now enjoyed to renew hisvisits to the mansion up the Thames, and to spend whole days in thesociety of Elgiva. In their simplicity and deep love they thought allthe obstacles to their happy union now removed. Alas! ill-fated pair!
CHAPTER VIII. THE CORONATION.
Nothing could exceed in solemnity the "hallowing of the king," as thecoronation ceremony was termed in Anglo-Saxon times. It was looked uponas an event of both civil and ecclesiastical importance, and thereforenothing was omitted which could lend dignity to the occasion.
The Witan, or parliament, had already met and given its consent to thecoronation of Edwy. It was not, as we have already remarked, a merematter of course that the direct heir should occupy the throne. Edredhad already ascended, while Edwy, the son of his elder brother, was aninfant, not as regent, but as king; and in any case of unfitness on thepart of the heir apparent, it was in the power of the Witan to pass himover, and to choose for the public good some other member of the royalhouse. The same Witan conferred upon Edgar the title of sub-king ofMercia under his brother.
Solemn and imposing was the meeting of the Witenagemot, or "assembly ofthe wise." It was divided into three estates. The first consisted of theonly class who, as a rule, had any learning in those days--the clergy,represented by the bishop, abbot, and their principal officials: thesecond consisted of the vassal kings of Scotland, Cumbria, Wales, Mona,the Hebrides, and other dependent states, the great earls, as of Merciaor East Anglia, and other mighty magnates: the third, of the lesserthanes, who were the especial vassals of the king, or the greatlandholders, for the possession of land was an essential part of a titleto nobility.
Amongst these sat Ella of Aescendune, who, in spite of his age, had cometo the metropolis to testify his loyalty and fealty to the son of themurdered Edmund, his old friend and companion in arms, and to behold hisown eldest son once more.
It was the morning of a beautiful day in early spring, one of those daysof which the poet has written--
"Sweet day, so calm, so pure, so bright,The bridal of the earth and sky"
--when winter seems to have loosed its stern hold upon the frozenearth, and the songs of countless birds welcome the bright sunlight, theharbinger of approaching summer.
The roads leading to Kingston-on-Thames were thronged with travellers ofevery degree--the ealdorman or earl with his numerous attendants, thebishop with rude ecclesiastical pomp, the peasant in his rough jerkin--all hastening to the approaching ceremony, which, as it had beendefinitely fixed, was to take place at that royal city.
There Athelstane had been crowned with great pomp and splendour, for itwas peculiarly "_Cynges tun_" or the King's Town, and after thecoronation it was customary for the newly-crowned monarch to take formalpossession of his kingdom by standing on a great stone in the churchyard.
The previous night, Archbishop Odo had arrived from Canterbury, and hisbosom friend and brother, Dunstan, from Glastonbury, as also Cynesige,Bishop of Lichfield, a man in every way like-minded with them; whilenearly all the other prelates, abbots, and nobles, arrived in the earlymorn of the eventful day.
The solemn service of the coronation mass was about to commence, and thepeople were assembling in the great church of St. Mary, filling everyinch of available room. Every figure was bent forward in earnest gaze,and every heart seemed to beat more quickly, as the faint and distantsound of deep solemn music, the monastic choirs chanting theprocessional psalms, drew near.
Suddenly the jubilant strains filled the whole church, as thewhite-robed train entered the sacred building while they sang:
"_Quoniam praevenisti eum in benedictionibus dulcedinis, posuisti incapiti ejus coronam de lapide pretioso_." [xii]
Incense ascended in clouds to the lofty roof; torches were uplifted,banners floated in the air, every eye was now strained to catch aglimpse of the youthful monarch.
He
came at last. Oh, how lovely the ill-fated boy looked that day! Hisbeauty was of a somewhat fragile character, his complexion almost toofair, his hair shone around his shoulders in waves of gold, for men thenwore their hair long, his eyes blue as the azure vault on that sweetspring morning: alas, that his spiritual being should not have beenequally fair!
Elfric stood by his father, amidst the crowd of thanes, near the roodscreen, for he had spent the last few days at Kingston, and there hisfather had found him, and had embraced him with joy, little dreaming ofthe change which had come over his darling boy.
"Look, father, is he not every inch a king?" Elfric could not helpexclaiming, forgetting the place and the occasion in his pride in hisking and his friend.
He would have been one of the four boys who bore the royal train, but ithad not seemed advisable on such a day to offend Dunstan too seriously.
The mass proceeded after the royal party had all taken their places, andthe coronation service was incorporated into the rite, following theNicene Creed and preceding the canon.
Kneeling before the altar, the young prince might well tremble withemotion. Before him stood the archbishop, clad in full pontificalvestments; around were the most noted prelates and wisest abbots ofEngland; behind him the nobility, gentry, and commonalty of the wholecountry--all gazing upon him, as the archbishop dictated the solemnwords of the oath, which Edwy repeated with trembling voice after him.
"In the name of the ever-blessed Trinity, I promise three things to theChristian people, my subjects:
"First, that the Church of God within my realm shall enjoy peace, freefrom any molestation."
"Second, that I will prevent, to the utmost of my power, theft and everyfraud in all ranks of men."
"Thirdly, that I will preserve and maintain justice and mercy in alljudicial proceedings, so that the good and merciful God may, accordingto His mercy, forgive us all our sins, Who liveth and reigneth for everand ever. Amen."
Then followed a most solemn charge from "Odo the Good," setting forthall the deep responsibilities of the oath Edwy had taken, and of theawful account to be rendered to God of the flock committed to hisyouthful charge, at the great and awful day of judgment.
Then the holy oil was solemnly poured upon the head of the kneeling boy,after which he made the usual offertory of "gold, frankincense, andmyrrh," at the altar, emblematical of the visit of the three kings ofold, who from Sheba bore their gold and incense to the Lord.
Then was the sacred bracelet put upon his arm, the crown on his head,the sceptre in his hand, after which the mass proceeded.
It is touching to recall the worship of those far-off days, when all thesurrounding circumstances differed so widely from those of the presenthour; yet the Church, in her holy conservatism, has kept intact andalmost changeless all that is hers; that day the "Nicene Creed,""Sanctus," "Agnus Dei," "Gloria in Excelsis," rolled as now in strainsof melody towards heaven, and the "Te Deum" which concluded the jubilantservice is our Te Deum still, albeit in the vulgar tongue.
The sacred rites concluded, the royal procession left the church andproceeded to the churchyard, when Edwy took formal possession of Wessex,by the ceremony of standing upon a large rock called the King's Stone,whence the town derived its name.
The feast was spread in the palace hard by, and all the nobles andthanes (if the words are not synonymous) flocked thither, while themultitude had their liberal feast spread at various tables throughoutthe town, at the royal expense.
Elfric followed his father to the palace, and was about to take hisplace at the board, when a page appeared and summoned him to thepresence of Edwy.
"I shall keep a vacant place for you by my side," said Ella, "so that wemay feast together, my son, when the king releases you; it is a greathonour that he should think of you now."
Elfric followed the messenger, who led him into the interior of thepalace, where he found Edwy impatiently awaiting him in the royaldressing chamber.
Elfric had expected to find the newly-crowned king deeply impressed, butif such had been the case, at the moment it had passed away.
"Thanks to all the saints, including St. George, and especially thedragon, that I can look into your jolly face again, Elfric, it is arelief after all the grim-beards who have surrounded me today. I shudderwhen I think of them."
Elfric had been about to kneel and kiss the royal hand, in token ofhomage, but Edwy saw the intention and prohibited him.
"No more of that an thou lovest me, Elfric; my poor hand is almost wornout already."
"The day must have tired you, the scene was so exciting."
Edwy yawned as he replied, "Thank God it is over; I thought Odo wasgoing to preach to me all day, and the incense almost stifled me; theone good thing is that it is done now, and all England--Kent, Sussex,Wessex, Essex, Northumbria, East Anglia, and Mercia--have allacknowledged me as their liege lord, the Basileus of Britain. What isdone can't be undone, and Dunstan may eat his leek now, and go to fightSatan again."
Elfric looked up in some surprise.
"What do you think, my friend; who do you suppose is here in the palace,in the royal apartments?"
"Who?"
"Elgiva, the fair Elgiva, the lovely Elgiva, dear Elgiva, and hermother. Oh, but I shall love to look upon her face when the feast isdone, and the grim-beards have gone!"
"But Dunstan?"
"Dunstan may go and hang himself; he can't scrape off the consecratedoil, or carry away crown, bracelet, and sceptre, to hide with the otherroyal treasures at Glastonbury; but the feast is beginning, and you mustcome and sit on my right hand."
"No, no," said Elfric, who saw at once what an impropriety this wouldbe, "not yet; besides, my old father is here, and has kept a seat besidehimself for me."
"Well, goodbye for the present; I shall expect you after the feast.Elgiva will be glad to see you."
Elfric returned to his father, but a feeling of sadness had takenpossession of him, an apprehension of coming evil.
The feast began; the clergy and the nobility of the land were assembledin the great hail of the palace, and there was that profusion of goodcheer which befitted the day, for the English were, like their Germanancestors, in the habit of considering the feast an essential part ofany solemnity.
How much was eaten and drunk upon the occasion it would be dangerous tosay, for it would probably exceed all modern experience, but it seemedto the impatient Edwy that the feast and the subsequent drinking ofpledges and healths would never end, and he was impatient the whole timeto get away and be in the company of the charmer.
An opportunity seemed at last to offer itself to his immature judgment.Gleemen had sung, harpers had harped, but the excitement culminated whenSiward, a Northumbrian noble, who was a great musician, and skilful inimprovisation, did not disdain, like the royal Alfred, to take the harpand pour forth an extemporary ode of great beauty, whereupon the wholemultitude rose to their feet and waved their wine cups in the air, inardent appreciation of the patriotic sentiments he had uttered, and thebeauty of the music and poetry.
During the full din of their heated applause, when all eyes were fixedupon the accomplished musician, Edwy rose softly from his chair; a doorwas just behind him, and he took advantage of it to leave the hail andthread the passages quickly, till he came to the room where he had leftElgiva, when he threw aside his royal mantle and all his restraint atthe same time.
It was not for a few moments that the company in the hall discovered theabsence of their king, but when they did there was a sudden hush, andmen looked at each other in mute astonishment; it appeared to all, withscarce an exception, a gross insult to the assembled majesty of thenation. [xiii]
Poor Edwy, in his thoughtlessness and want of proper feeling, littleknew the deep anger such a proceeding would cause; in his lack of areverential spirit he was constantly, as we have seen, offending againstthe respect due to the Church, the State, or himself--first as heirpresumptive, then as king.
Men stood mute, as we have said,
then murmurs of indignation at theslight arose, and all looked at Dunstan.
He beckoned to Cynesige of Lichfield, who came to his side.
"We must bring this thoughtless boy back," he said, "or great harm willbe done."
"But how?"
"By persuasion, if possible. Follow me."
The two prelates entered the interior of the palace, and sought theking's private chamber.
As they drew near they heard the sound of merry laughter, and each ofthem frowned as men might do who were little accustomed to condone theweakness of human flesh. Entering the chamber very unceremoniously, theypaused, as if aghast, when they beheld the king in the company ofElgiva, his royal diadem cast upon the ground.
He started in surprise, and for a moment in fear; then, remembering whohe was, he exclaimed, angrily--"How dare you, sir monk, intrude uponthe privacy of your king, unbidden?"
"We do so as the ambassadors of the King of kings."
It is out of our power to describe the scene which followed, the fierywords of Edwy, the stern yet quiet rejoinders of the churchmen, thetears of the mother and daughter; but it is well known how the sceneended. Edwy absolutely refused to return to the assembled guests, sayinghe would forfeit his kingdom first; and Dunstan replied that for his(Edwy's) own sake he should then be compelled to use force, and suitingthe action to the word, he and Cynesige took each an arm of the youthfulking, and led him back by compulsion to the assembled nobles and clergy.
Before condemning Dunstan, we must remember that Elgiva could not standin the relation of the affianced bride of the king; that Edwy reallyseemed to set the laws of both Church and State at defiance, those verylaws which but that day he had sworn solemnly to maintain;