Stories from English History Part 5

'Listen to me,' he added hastily, as he saw that Harold was about to speak: 'I like you, and you are the man of all the English whom I most wish to have on my side. If you will give me your word of honour that you will help me to the crown, I promise that you shall be the greatest man in the kingdom next to myself; and not only that, but you shall be my son-in-law; I will give you my daughter Adela for your wife.--Now is it a bargain, son-in-law Harold?'

'No,' said Harold quietly and firmly; 'it cannot be. I cannot marry your daughter, because I already love a lady in England, Edith, a ward of the king; and you will never with my consent become King of England, because the English people have the right of choosing their own king; and we will never willingly have a Norman to rule over us. If King Edward made you any such promise he did very wrongly, for the crown of England is not his to give away.'

Duke William was silent, and his eyes blazed with anger, as they always did when his will was crossed.

'So be it,' he said, when he had regained sufficient mastery over himself to be able to speak; 'I do not require help that is not freely given.'

Harold knew that the duke was very angry; and he began to see what an imprudent action he had committed when he had put himself in the power of this ambitious man.

One of the Norman knights, whom he had rescued, came to Harold that evening.

'Do not anger the duke,' he begged. 'You little know his determined will. You are alone, it is useless to resist; and he will find a means of putting you to silence if you oppose him.'

Harold's young brother, Wulfnoth, came to him next

'Do not refuse to give the duke the promise he asks of you,' implored the boy with a pale face. 'I have seen their dungeons and the oubliettes--those dreadful underground cells where a man can scarcely stand upright, where he may spend years without ever seeing the light of day.--O Harold, the duke has sworn to imprison both you and me if you refuse to help him! Promise, Harold, promise; and when you are safe in England no one can make you hold to a promise which has been forced from you.'

Harold pa.s.sed the night in great perplexity.

Should he refuse to make a promise which he knew that he could not keep?

Then he and his young brother would be cast into these dreadful hiding-places; and they would never be heard of again. In years to come Englishmen might walk over the very turf under which they lay, and not know that beneath their feet the lost earls were still living, buried deep from the blessed suns.h.i.+ne, and the song of the birds, and the faces of their fellow-men.

Would it be right of him to bring such a fate upon his brother?

Then his native land; what would become of England while Harold lay in his dungeon?

He knew that without his help the weak, gentle king was unable to govern.

Then when Duke William came to demand the crown, and the English resisted him, as they were sure to do, there was no one save Harold to lead them to battle.

He knew that he was the one man whom England needed at that time.

Already he had been absent too long.

Yet it was a terrible thing to make a promise which he did not intend to keep.

Morning found Harold with his mind not made up.

That day, William asked his guest to meet him in the great hall of the castle.

An unexpected sight met the Englishman as he entered. The hall was filled with knights and barons, all waiting in silence. Beneath the great stained-gla.s.s window was the duke in his state robes, seated upon a throne, with a bishop on either side of him. In front of the throne stood a chest covered with cloth of gold, and upon the cover lay an open Bible.

William was wearing his most grave and stony-hearted expression.

'Yesterday I told you that King Edward of England had left his crown to me,' he said. 'I ask you now, in presence of the barons and knights of my dukedom, to swear to support my just claim.'

Harold looked at the Duke with a dark and angry face. William was taking a dishonourable advantage of him.

'Swear,' said the Norman knight, his friend, in his ear. 'If you do not, you will never see England again.'

'Swear, Harold,' whispered Wulfnoth; 'the oubliettes!'

Harold was completely in the power of the Normans.

With downcast eyes he laid his hand upon the Bible and repeated the words of the oath after the duke.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Harold taking the Oath]

Then the bishops came forward and raised the cloth of gold, showing that the chest was full of the bones of Norman saints.

Harold started back in horror; for an oath sworn upon the bones of saints was held to be the most sacred and binding oath that a man could take.

Instead of friends.h.i.+p, his heart now became filled with a fierce hatred towards the duke, whose ambition had led him to take an unfair advantage of his guest.

If he kept his oath, he would be a traitor to his country; while, if he broke it, he feared that a curse would rest upon himself.

When Harold had to make the choice, he remained true to his native land and braved the consequences; but he was never again the happy, fearless man that he had been before he had been compelled by the duke to swear a false oath.

Two years later, King Edward felt his end approaching, and he sent for Harold.

The earl found the old, white-haired king lying upon a couch, his kind blue eyes dim with age and sickness. His wife, Harold's sister, was sitting on a low seat by her husband's side, and the two archbishops of the realm were with the king.

Edward told Harold that he must soon die, and that he wished him, Harold, Earl of Wess.e.x, to become king after him. He said that long ago he had repented of the promise made to William of Normandy, as he knew that his subjects would never consent to have any but an Englishman for their king.

In presence of the archbishops Harold promised to govern faithfully if the people of England should choose him for their king, and to fight against William of Normandy if need be.

Then King Edward told him that he had something to ask of him.

'If England is to be strong enough to resist the Normans,' he said, 'she must be a united country. The two earls in the north, Edwin and Morcar, are enemies of your house. Make them your friends by marrying their sister, Aldwyth.'

Harold was silent.

'Ah, my son,' said the old king, 'I know that you have long hoped to marry my ward, the Lady Edith; but you must sacrifice yourself for England. We have both weakened our dear country, you and I; I by unduly favouring the Norman, and you by allowing a false oath to be extorted from you. We can only make her strong again by your marriage.'

Harold struggled hard, but was unable to make up his mind to the sacrifice.

Then in came Edith, Harold's betrothed bride, fair and graceful as a lily: Edith of the Swan's Neck, as people called her. Her face was pale and sorrowful, but she had resolved to do her duty.

'Harold,' she implored him, 'for the sake of England; that our country may be free! I will never, never marry any one else; but you are a king! Marry Aldwyth!

With a sore heart Harold yielded to her entreaty, and promised the old king that he would do as he asked.

Then Harold and Edith parted, Harold to marry the daughter of his enemy and Edith to enter a convent, where she might pray for England and for Harold.

A few days later the old king pa.s.sed away, muttering sorrowful things about war and trouble which he feared would come upon England. He had been a good, kind old man, and his people grieved for him very much; but through his want of firmness he had prepared the way for some of the worst troubles that England was ever to know.

Immediately after King Edward was dead, the wise men chose Harold for their king, and on the following day the old king was buried and the new one crowned in the church which is now a part of Westminster Abbey.

The news was not slow in reaching Normandy. Duke William was just leaving his castle with a hunting-party when a messenger came to tell him that Harold had been crowned King of England.