CHAPTER IX.

HOW KING EDWARD DIED, AND HAROLD WAS CROWNED IN HIS STEAD; AND HOW DUKE WILLIAM TOOK COUNSEL AGAINST HIM.

The day came that no man can escape, and king Edward drew near to die. He had it much at heart, that William should have his kingdom, if possible; but he was too far off, and it was too long to tarry for him, and Edward could not defer his hour. He lay in heavy sickness, in the illness whereof he was to die; and he was very weak, for death pressed hard upon him[1].

Then Harold assembled his kindred, and sent for his friends and other people, and entered into the king's chamber, taking with him whomsoever he pleased. An Englishman began to speak first, as Harold had directed him, and said; "Sire, we sorrow greatly that we are about to lose thee; and we are much alarmed, and fear that great trouble may come upon us: yet we cannot lengthen thy life, nor alter thy fate. Each one must die for himself, and none for another; neither can we cure thee; so that thou canst not escape death; but dust must return to dust. No heir of thine remains who may comfort us after thy death. Thou hast lived long, and art now old, but thou hast had no child, son or daughter; nor hast thou other heir, who may remain instead of thee to protect and guard us, and to become king by lineage. On this account the people weep and cry aloud, and say they are ruined, and that they shall never have peace again if thou failest them. And in this, I trow, they say truly; for without a king they will have no peace, and a king they cannot have, save through thee. Give then thy kingdom in thy lifetime to some one who is strong enough to maintain us in peace. God grant that none other than such may be our king! Wretched is a realm, and little worth, when justice and peace fail; and he who doth not or cannot maintain them, has little right to the kingdom he hath. Well hast thou lived, well hast thou done, and well wilt thou do; thou hast ever served God, and wilt be rewarded of him. Behold the best of thy people, the noblest of thy friends; all are come to beseech thee, and thou must grant their prayer before thou goest hence, or thou wilt not see God. All come to implore thee that Harold may be king of this land. We can give thee no better advice, and no better canst thou do."

As soon as he had named Harold, all the English in the chamber cried out that he said well, and that the king ought to give heed to him. "Sire," they said, "if thou dost it not, we shall never in our lives have peace."

Then the king sat up in his bed, and turned his face to the English there, and said, "Seignors, you well know, and have ofttimes heard, that I have given my realm at my death to the duke of Normandy; and as I have given it, so have some among you sworn that it shall go."

But Harold, who stood by, said, "Whatever thou hast heretofore done, sire, consent now that I shall be king, and that your land be mine; I wish for no other title, and want no one to do any thing more for me." "Harold," said the king, "thou shalt have it, but I know full well that it will cost thee thy life. If I know any thing of the duke, and the barons that are with him, and the multitude of people that he can command, none but God can avail to save thee."

Then Harold said that he would stand the hazard, and that if the king would do what he asked, he feared no one, be he Norman or other. So the king turned round and said,--whether of his own free will I know not,--"Let the English make either the duke or Harold king as they please, I consent." Thus he made Harold heir to his kingdom, as William could not have it. A kingdom must have a king; without one, in fact, it would be no kingdom; so he let his barons have their own will.

And now he could abide no longer. He died, and the English lamented much over him. His body was greatly honoured, and was buried at Westminster; and the tomb which was made for him was rich, and endureth still. As soon as king Edward was dead, Harold, who was rich and powerful, had himself anointed and crowned, and said nought of it to the duke, but took the homage and fealty of the richest, and best born of the land[2].

The duke was in his park at Rouen[3]. He held in his hand a bow, which he had strung and bent, making it ready for the arrow; and he had given it into the hands of a page, for he was going forth, I believe, to the chace, and had with him many knights and pages[4] and esquires, when behold! at the gate appeared a serjeant, who came journeying from England, and went straight to the duke and saluted him, and drew him on one side, and told him privily that king Edward was dead, and that Harold was raised to be king.

When the duke had listened to him, and learnt all the truth, how that Edward was dead, and Harold was made king, he became as a man enraged, and left the craft of the woods. Oft he tied his mantle, and oft he untied it again; and spoke to no man, neither dared any man speak to him. Then he crossed the Seine in his boat, and came to his hall, and entered therein; and sat down at the end of a bench, shifting his place from time to time, covering his face with his mantle, and resting his head against a pillar. Thus he remained long, in deep thought, for no one dared speak to him; but many asked aside, "What ails the duke, why makes he such bad cheer?" Then behold in came his seneschal[5], who rode from the park on horseback; and he passed close by the duke, humming a tune as he went along the hall; and many came round him, asking how it came to pass that the duke was in such plight. And he said to them, "Ye will hear news, but press not for it out of season; news will always spread some time or another, and he who gets it not fresh, has it old."

Then the duke raised himself up, and the seneschal said to him, "Sire, sire, why do you conceal the news you have heard? If men hear it not at one time, they will at another; concealment will do you no good, nor will the telling of it do harm. What you keep so close, is by this time known all over the city; for men go through the streets telling, and all know, both great and small, that king Edward is dead, and that Harold is become king in his stead, and possesses the realm."

"That indeed is the cause of my sorrow," said the duke, "but I know no help for it. I sorrow for Edward, and for his death, and for the wrong that Harold has done me. He has wronged me in taking the kingdom that was granted and promised to me, as he himself had sworn."

To these words Fitz Osber, the bold of heart, replied, "Sire, do not vex yourself, but bestir yourself for your redress; that you may be revenged on Harold, who hath been so disloyal to you. If your courage fail not, the land shall not abide with him. Call together all that you can call; cross the sea, and take the kingdom from him. A bold man should begin nothing unless he pursue it to the end; what he begins he should carry through, or abandon it without more ado."

Thus the fame of king Harold's act went through the country. William sent to him often, and reminded him of his oath; and Harold replied injuriously, that he would do nought for him, neither take his daughter, nor yield up the land. Then William sent him his defiance, but Harold always answered that he feared him nought[6]. The Normans who dwelt in England, who had wives and children there, men whom Edward had invited and endowed with castles and fiefs, Harold chased out of the country, nor would he leave one there; he drove out fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters[7].

Harold received the crown at Easter (Christmas--see note--mdh); but it would have been better for him if he had done otherwise, for he brought nought but evil on his heirs, and on all the land. He perjured himself for a kingdom, and that kingdom endured but little space; to him it was a great loss, and it brought all his lineage to sorrow. He refused to take the duke's daughter to wife, he would neither give nor take according to his covenant, and heavily will he suffer for it; he, and all he loves most.

When William found that Harold would do nothing towards performing his covenant, he considered and took counsel, how to cross the sea, and fight him, and by our Lord's leave, take vengeance for his perjury. He pondered much on the wrongs Harold had done him, and on his not deigning even to speak with him before he got himself crowned, and thus robbed him of what Edward had given him, and Harold himself had sworn to observe. If, he said, he could attack and punish him without crossing the sea, he would willingly have done so; but he would rather cross the sea than not revenge himself, and pursue his right. So he determined to go over sea, and take his revenge.

[Footnote 1: According to the quotation in _Thierry_, i. 236, Edward's last moments were disturbed by melancholy forebodings. 'Behold,' he cried, 'the Lord hath bent his bow; the Lord hath brandished his sword, and made ready; by fire and sword will he chasten!' Benoit merely says, 'Glouriouse fin out e sainte!' The reader may usefully compare the narrative here, with the illustrative quotations from the old chroniclers, which are to be found in _Thierry_.]

[Footnote 2: Benoit de Sainte-More's account is somewhat different. He in particular denies that Harold was anointed at all, or had any title but his own usurpation.

Heraut de coveitise espris, Senz autre conseil qui'n fust pris, Saisi le reigne demaneis; Parjurez e faus se fist reis, Eissi, senz icele unction, E senz cele sacration, Qu'en deit faire à rei saintement Le jor de son coronement.

In this part of his chronicle he relates an expedition by Harold against 'li Galeis' and 'reis Griffins, qui d'eus ert sire.'

----Heraut l'ocist, Sa femme Aldit saisi e prist, Qui fille ert del bon conte Algar.]

[Footnote 3: The park of Quevilly. Henry II. built a palace there, which eventually became the priory of St. Julien; the chapel of which still subsists. An extensive forest adjoined.]

[Footnote 4: 'Damoisels,' young men of gentle birth, not yet knights.]

[Footnote 5: WILLIAM FITZ OSBERN, lord of Breteuil (de Bretolio), in the arrondissement of Evreux. He was, by his father, the grandson of Herfast, brother of the duchess Gunnor; and, by his mother, grandson of Ralf, count of Ivry. Both father and son held the office of seneschal, these household offices being among the Normans held by the persons of highest birth and eminence. Wace says of the household of duke Richard II.:

Gentil furent li capelain, Gentil furent li escrivain, Gentil furent li cunestable, E bien poessanz e bien aidable; Gentil furent li senescal, Gentil furent li marescal, Gentil furent li buteillier, Gentil furent li despensier; Li chamberlenc e li uissier Furent tuit noble chevalier.

William became earl of Hereford, and was killed in 1070. _Ordericus Vitalis_ 536, exclaims, 'Ubi est Guillelmus Osberni filius, Herfordensis comes, et regis vicarius, Normanniæ dapifer, et magister militum bellicosus? Hic nimirum primus et maximus oppressor Anglorum fuit, et enormem causam per temeritatem suam enutrivit, per quam multis millibus ruina miseræ mortis incubuit.' His family were soon involved in rebellion, and disappeared in England. The Osbernus episcopus--of Exeter--in _Domesday_, was his brother. See Ellis's _Introduction to Domesday,_ i. 460-511.]

[Footnote 6: Benoit's more particular account of William's messages to Harold will be found in our appendix.]

[Footnote 7: The _Estoire de Seint Ædward le rei_, (a MS. in the university library at Cambridge) makes Harold's tyrannical proceedings a prominent motive for William's expedition.]