<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"></SPAN></p>
<h2> CHAPTER III </h2>
<p>Then (sad relief!) from the bleak coast that hears<br/>
The German Ocean roar, deep-blooming, strong,<br/>
And yellow hair'd, the blue-eyed Saxon came.<br/>
Thomson's Liberty<br/></p>
<p>In a hall, the height of which was greatly disproportioned to its extreme
length and width, a long oaken table, formed of planks rough-hewn from the
forest, and which had scarcely received any polish, stood ready prepared
for the evening meal of Cedric the Saxon. The roof, composed of beams and
rafters, had nothing to divide the apartment from the sky excepting the
planking and thatch; there was a huge fireplace at either end of the hall,
but as the chimneys were constructed in a very clumsy manner, at least as
much of the smoke found its way into the apartment as escaped by the
proper vent. The constant vapour which this occasioned, had polished the
rafters and beams of the low-browed hall, by encrusting them with a black
varnish of soot. On the sides of the apartment hung implements of war and
of the chase, and there were at each corner folding doors, which gave
access to other parts of the extensive building.</p>
<p>The other appointments of the mansion partook of the rude simplicity of
the Saxon period, which Cedric piqued himself upon maintaining. The floor
was composed of earth mixed with lime, trodden into a hard substance, such
as is often employed in flooring our modern barns. For about one quarter
of the length of the apartment, the floor was raised by a step, and this
space, which was called the dais, was occupied only by the principal
members of the family, and visitors of distinction. For this purpose, a
table richly covered with scarlet cloth was placed transversely across the
platform, from the middle of which ran the longer and lower board, at
which the domestics and inferior persons fed, down towards the bottom of
the hall. The whole resembled the form of the letter T, or some of those
ancient dinner-tables, which, arranged on the same principles, may be
still seen in the antique Colleges of Oxford or Cambridge. Massive chairs
and settles of carved oak were placed upon the dais, and over these seats
and the more elevated table was fastened a canopy of cloth, which served
in some degree to protect the dignitaries who occupied that distinguished
station from the weather, and especially from the rain, which in some
places found its way through the ill-constructed roof.</p>
<p>The walls of this upper end of the hall, as far as the dais extended, were
covered with hangings or curtains, and upon the floor there was a carpet,
both of which were adorned with some attempts at tapestry, or embroidery,
executed with brilliant or rather gaudy colouring. Over the lower range of
table, the roof, as we have noticed, had no covering; the rough plastered
walls were left bare, and the rude earthen floor was uncarpeted; the board
was uncovered by a cloth, and rude massive benches supplied the place of
chairs.</p>
<p>In the centre of the upper table, were placed two chairs more elevated
than the rest, for the master and mistress of the family, who presided
over the scene of hospitality, and from doing so derived their Saxon title
of honour, which signifies "the Dividers of Bread."</p>
<p>To each of these chairs was added a footstool, curiously carved and inlaid
with ivory, which mark of distinction was peculiar to them. One of these
seats was at present occupied by Cedric the Saxon, who, though but in rank
a thane, or, as the Normans called him, a Franklin, felt, at the delay of
his evening meal, an irritable impatience, which might have become an
alderman, whether of ancient or of modern times.</p>
<p>It appeared, indeed, from the countenance of this proprietor, that he was
of a frank, but hasty and choleric temper. He was not above the middle
stature, but broad-shouldered, long-armed, and powerfully made, like one
accustomed to endure the fatigue of war or of the chase; his face was
broad, with large blue eyes, open and frank features, fine teeth, and a
well formed head, altogether expressive of that sort of good-humour which
often lodges with a sudden and hasty temper. Pride and jealousy there was
in his eye, for his life had been spent in asserting rights which were
constantly liable to invasion; and the prompt, fiery, and resolute
disposition of the man, had been kept constantly upon the alert by the
circumstances of his situation. His long yellow hair was equally divided
on the top of his head and upon his brow, and combed down on each side to
the length of his shoulders; it had but little tendency to grey, although
Cedric was approaching to his sixtieth year.</p>
<p>His dress was a tunic of forest green, furred at the throat and cuffs with
what was called minever; a kind of fur inferior in quality to ermine, and
formed, it is believed, of the skin of the grey squirrel. This doublet
hung unbuttoned over a close dress of scarlet which sat tight to his body;
he had breeches of the same, but they did not reach below the lower part
of the thigh, leaving the knee exposed. His feet had sandals of the same
fashion with the peasants, but of finer materials, and secured in the
front with golden clasps. He had bracelets of gold upon his arms, and a
broad collar of the same precious metal around his neck. About his waist
he wore a richly-studded belt, in which was stuck a short straight
two-edged sword, with a sharp point, so disposed as to hang almost
perpendicularly by his side. Behind his seat was hung a scarlet cloth
cloak lined with fur, and a cap of the same materials richly embroidered,
which completed the dress of the opulent landholder when he chose to go
forth. A short boar-spear, with a broad and bright steel head, also
reclined against the back of his chair, which served him, when he walked
abroad, for the purposes of a staff or of a weapon, as chance might
require.</p>
<p>Several domestics, whose dress held various proportions betwixt the
richness of their master's, and the coarse and simple attire of Gurth the
swine-herd, watched the looks and waited the commands of the Saxon
dignitary. Two or three servants of a superior order stood behind their
master upon the dais; the rest occupied the lower part of the hall. Other
attendants there were of a different description; two or three large and
shaggy greyhounds, such as were then employed in hunting the stag and
wolf; as many slow-hounds of a large bony breed, with thick necks, large
heads, and long ears; and one or two of the smaller dogs, now called
terriers, which waited with impatience the arrival of the supper; but,
with the sagacious knowledge of physiognomy peculiar to their race,
forbore to intrude upon the moody silence of their master, apprehensive
probably of a small white truncheon which lay by Cedric's trencher, for
the purpose of repelling the advances of his four-legged dependants. One
grisly old wolf-dog alone, with the liberty of an indulged favourite, had
planted himself close by the chair of state, and occasionally ventured to
solicit notice by putting his large hairy head upon his master's knee, or
pushing his nose into his hand. Even he was repelled by the stern command,
"Down, Balder, down! I am not in the humour for foolery."</p>
<p>In fact, Cedric, as we have observed, was in no very placid state of mind.
The Lady Rowena, who had been absent to attend an evening mass at a
distant church, had but just returned, and was changing her garments,
which had been wetted by the storm. There were as yet no tidings of Gurth
and his charge, which should long since have been driven home from the
forest and such was the insecurity of the period, as to render it probable
that the delay might be explained by some depreciation of the outlaws,
with whom the adjacent forest abounded, or by the violence of some
neighbouring baron, whose consciousness of strength made him equally
negligent of the laws of property. The matter was of consequence, for
great part of the domestic wealth of the Saxon proprietors consisted in
numerous herds of swine, especially in forest-land, where those animals
easily found their food.</p>
<p>Besides these subjects of anxiety, the Saxon thane was impatient for the
presence of his favourite clown Wamba, whose jests, such as they were,
served for a sort of seasoning to his evening meal, and to the deep
draughts of ale and wine with which he was in the habit of accompanying
it. Add to all this, Cedric had fasted since noon, and his usual supper
hour was long past, a cause of irritation common to country squires, both
in ancient and modern times. His displeasure was expressed in broken
sentences, partly muttered to himself, partly addressed to the domestics
who stood around; and particularly to his cupbearer, who offered him from
time to time, as a sedative, a silver goblet filled with wine—"Why
tarries the Lady Rowena?"</p>
<p>"She is but changing her head-gear," replied a female attendant, with as
much confidence as the favourite lady's-maid usually answers the master of
a modern family; "you would not wish her to sit down to the banquet in her
hood and kirtle? and no lady within the shire can be quicker in arraying
herself than my mistress."</p>
<p>This undeniable argument produced a sort of acquiescent umph! on the part
of the Saxon, with the addition, "I wish her devotion may choose fair
weather for the next visit to St John's Kirk;—but what, in the name
of ten devils," continued he, turning to the cupbearer, and raising his
voice as if happy to have found a channel into which he might divert his
indignation without fear or control—"what, in the name of ten
devils, keeps Gurth so long afield? I suppose we shall have an evil
account of the herd; he was wont to be a faithful and cautious drudge, and
I had destined him for something better; perchance I might even have made
him one of my warders." <SPAN href="#linknote-11" name="linknoteref-11" id="linknoteref-11"><small>11</small></SPAN></p>
<p>Oswald the cupbearer modestly suggested, "that it was scarce an hour since
the tolling of the curfew;" an ill-chosen apology, since it turned upon a
topic so harsh to Saxon ears.</p>
<p>"The foul fiend," exclaimed Cedric, "take the curfew-bell, and the
tyrannical bastard by whom it was devised, and the heartless slave who
names it with a Saxon tongue to a Saxon ear! The curfew!" he added,
pausing, "ay, the curfew; which compels true men to extinguish their
lights, that thieves and robbers may work their deeds in darkness!—Ay,
the curfew;—Reginald Front-de-Boeuf and Philip de Malvoisin know the
use of the curfew as well as William the Bastard himself, or e'er a Norman
adventurer that fought at Hastings. I shall hear, I guess, that my
property has been swept off to save from starving the hungry banditti,
whom they cannot support but by theft and robbery. My faithful slave is
murdered, and my goods are taken for a prey—and Wamba—where is
Wamba? Said not some one he had gone forth with Gurth?"</p>
<p>Oswald replied in the affirmative.</p>
<p>"Ay? why this is better and better! he is carried off too, the Saxon fool,
to serve the Norman lord. Fools are we all indeed that serve them, and
fitter subjects for their scorn and laughter, than if we were born with
but half our wits. But I will be avenged," he added, starting from his
chair in impatience at the supposed injury, and catching hold of his
boar-spear; "I will go with my complaint to the great council; I have
friends, I have followers—man to man will I appeal the Norman to the
lists; let him come in his plate and his mail, and all that can render
cowardice bold; I have sent such a javelin as this through a stronger
fence than three of their war shields!—Haply they think me old; but
they shall find, alone and childless as I am, the blood of Hereward is in
the veins of Cedric.—Ah, Wilfred, Wilfred!" he exclaimed in a lower
tone, "couldst thou have ruled thine unreasonable passion, thy father had
not been left in his age like the solitary oak that throws out its
shattered and unprotected branches against the full sweep of the tempest!"
The reflection seemed to conjure into sadness his irritated feelings.
Replacing his javelin, he resumed his seat, bent his looks downward, and
appeared to be absorbed in melancholy reflection.</p>
<p>From his musing, Cedric was suddenly awakened by the blast of a horn,
which was replied to by the clamorous yells and barking of all the dogs in
the hall, and some twenty or thirty which were quartered in other parts of
the building. It cost some exercise of the white truncheon, well seconded
by the exertions of the domestics, to silence this canine clamour.</p>
<p>"To the gate, knaves!" said the Saxon, hastily, as soon as the tumult was
so much appeased that the dependants could hear his voice. "See what
tidings that horn tells us of—to announce, I ween, some hership <SPAN href="#linknote-12" name="linknoteref-12" id="linknoteref-12"><small>12</small></SPAN>
and robbery which has been done upon my lands."</p>
<p>Returning in less than three minutes, a warder announced "that the Prior
Aymer of Jorvaulx, and the good knight Brian de Bois-Guilbert, commander
of the valiant and venerable order of Knights Templars, with a small
retinue, requested hospitality and lodging for the night, being on their
way to a tournament which was to be held not far from Ashby-de-la-Zouche,
on the second day from the present."</p>
<p>"Aymer, the Prior Aymer? Brian de Bois-Guilbert?"—muttered Cedric;
"Normans both;—but Norman or Saxon, the hospitality of Rotherwood
must not be impeached; they are welcome, since they have chosen to halt—more
welcome would they have been to have ridden further on their way—But
it were unworthy to murmur for a night's lodging and a night's food; in
the quality of guests, at least, even Normans must suppress their
insolence.—Go, Hundebert," he added, to a sort of major-domo who
stood behind him with a white wand; "take six of the attendants, and
introduce the strangers to the guests' lodging. Look after their horses
and mules, and see their train lack nothing. Let them have change of
vestments if they require it, and fire, and water to wash, and wine and
ale; and bid the cooks add what they hastily can to our evening meal; and
let it be put on the board when those strangers are ready to share it. Say
to them, Hundebert, that Cedric would himself bid them welcome, but he is
under a vow never to step more than three steps from the dais of his own
hall to meet any who shares not the blood of Saxon royalty. Begone! see
them carefully tended; let them not say in their pride, the Saxon churl
has shown at once his poverty and his avarice."</p>
<p>The major-domo departed with several attendants, to execute his master's
commands.</p>
<p>"The Prior Aymer!" repeated Cedric, looking to Oswald, "the brother, if I
mistake not, of Giles de Mauleverer, now lord of Middleham?"</p>
<p>Oswald made a respectful sign of assent. "His brother sits in the seat,
and usurps the patrimony, of a better race, the race of Ulfgar of
Middleham; but what Norman lord doth not the same? This Prior is, they
say, a free and jovial priest, who loves the wine-cup and the bugle-horn
better than bell and book: Good; let him come, he shall be welcome. How
named ye the Templar?"</p>
<p>"Brian de Bois-Guilbert."</p>
<p>"Bois-Guilbert," said Cedric, still in the musing, half-arguing tone,
which the habit of living among dependants had accustomed him to employ,
and which resembled a man who talks to himself rather than to those around
him—"Bois-Guilbert? that name has been spread wide both for good and
evil. They say he is valiant as the bravest of his order; but stained with
their usual vices, pride, arrogance, cruelty, and voluptuousness; a
hard-hearted man, who knows neither fear of earth, nor awe of heaven. So
say the few warriors who have returned from Palestine.—Well; it is
but for one night; he shall be welcome too.—Oswald, broach the
oldest wine-cask; place the best mead, the mightiest ale, the richest
morat, the most sparkling cider, the most odoriferous pigments, upon the
board; fill the largest horns <SPAN href="#linknote-13" name="linknoteref-13" id="linknoteref-13"><small>13</small></SPAN> —Templars and Abbots love
good wines and good measure.—Elgitha, let thy Lady Rowena, know we
shall not this night expect her in the hall, unless such be her especial
pleasure."</p>
<p>"But it will be her especial pleasure," answered Elgitha, with great
readiness, "for she is ever desirous to hear the latest news from
Palestine."</p>
<p>Cedric darted at the forward damsel a glance of hasty resentment; but
Rowena, and whatever belonged to her, were privileged and secure from his
anger. He only replied, "Silence, maiden; thy tongue outruns thy
discretion. Say my message to thy mistress, and let her do her pleasure.
Here, at least, the descendant of Alfred still reigns a princess." Elgitha
left the apartment.</p>
<p>"Palestine!" repeated the Saxon; "Palestine! how many ears are turned to
the tales which dissolute crusaders, or hypocritical pilgrims, bring from
that fatal land! I too might ask—I too might enquire—I too
might listen with a beating heart to fables which the wily strollers
devise to cheat us into hospitality—but no—The son who has
disobeyed me is no longer mine; nor will I concern myself more for his
fate than for that of the most worthless among the millions that ever
shaped the cross on their shoulder, rushed into excess and
blood-guiltiness, and called it an accomplishment of the will of God."</p>
<p>He knit his brows, and fixed his eyes for an instant on the ground; as he
raised them, the folding doors at the bottom of the hall were cast wide,
and, preceded by the major-domo with his wand, and four domestics bearing
blazing torches, the guests of the evening entered the apartment.</p>
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