Wulf the Saxon

A. Henty G.

Description

In 11th-century England, a boy named Wulf serves as a thane under the nobleman Earl Harold of Wessex. When a massive force of Breton, French, and Norman soldiers invades at the behest of William the Conquerer, Wulf and his master gear up for battle and fight to defend their beloved country.

Sujets

• Adventure (Guyana)
• Adventure

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 décembre 2016
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776674213
• Langue: English

Extrait

WULF THE SAXON
A STORY OF THE NORMAN CONQUEST
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G. A. HENTY
 
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Wulf the Saxon A Story of the Norman Conquest First published in 1895 Epub ISBN 978-1-77667-421-3 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77667-422-0 © 2015 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Preface Chapter I - A Quarrel Chapter II - Country Life Chapter III - At Court Chapter IV - A Storm Chapter V - Rouen Chapter VI - Release of the Earl Chapter VII - The Oath Chapter VIII - Trouble with Wales Chapter IX - In the Welsh Valleys Chapter X - Porthwyn Chapter XI - The Secret Passage Chapter XII - Edith Chapter XIII - Harold, the King Chapter XIV - Wulf's Suspicions Chapter XV - A Meeting by the River Chapter XVI - A Voyage North Chapter XVII - An Attempt at Assassination Chapter XVIII - The Northern Invasion Chapter XIX - Stamford Bridge Chapter XX - The Landing of the Foe Chapter XXI - Hastings Chapter XXII - The Lord of Bramber
Preface
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Although the immediate results of the Battle of Hastings may havebeen of less importance to the world than were those of some othergreat battles, the struggle has, in the long run, had a greaterinfluence upon the destiny of mankind than any other similar eventthat has ever taken place. That admixture of Saxon, Danish, andBritish races which had come to be known under the general name ofEnglish, was in most respects far behind the rest of Europe. Theisland was, as it had always been,—except during the rule of twoor three exceptionally strong kings,—distracted by internaldissensions. Broad lines of division still separated the Northfrom the South, and under weak Kings the powerful Earls becamealmost independent. The enterprise that had distinguished theirSaxon and Danish ancestors seems to have died out. There was ageneral indisposition to change, and except in her ecclesiasticalbuildings, England made but little progress in civilization fromthe time of Alfred to that of Harold. Its insular position cut itoff from taking part in that rapid advance which, beginning inItaly, was extending throughout Europe. The arrival, however, ofthe impetuous Norman race, securing as it did a close connectionwith the Continent, quickened the intellect of the people, raisedtheir intelligence, was of inestimable benefit to the English, andplayed a most important part in raising England among the nations.Moreover, it has helped to produce the race that has peopled NorthernAmerica, Australia, and the south of Africa, holds possession ofIndia, and stands forth as the greatest civilizer in the world. TheConquest of England by the Normans was achieved without even ashadow of right or justice. It was at the time an unmixed curse toEngland; but now we can recognize the enormous benefits that accruedwhen in his turn the Englishman conquered the Norman, and the foreigninvaders became an integral portion of the people they had overcome.For the historical details of the story, I have only had to go toFreeman's magnificent History of the Norman Conquest of England ,which I hope will be perused by all of my readers who are able toobtain it.
G. A. HENTY
Chapter I - A Quarrel
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The great Abbey of Westminster was approaching its completion; anarmy of masons and labourers swarmed like bees upon and around it,and although differing widely in its massive architecture, withround Saxon windows and arches, from the edifice that was two orthree generations later to be reared in its place,—to serve as astill more fitting tomb for the ashes of its pious founder,—it wasa stately abbey, rivalling the most famous of the English fanes ofthe period.
From his palace hard by King Edward had watched with the deepestinterest the erection of the minster that was the dearest objectof his life. The King was surrounded by Normans, the people amongwhom he had lived until called from his retirement to ascend thethrone of England, and whom he loved far better than those overwhom he reigned. He himself still lived almost the life of a recluse.He was sincerely anxious for the good of his people, but took smallpains to ensure it, his life being largely passed in religiousdevotions, and in watching over the rise of the abbey he had founded.
A town had risen around minster and palace, and here the workmenemployed found their lodgings, while craftsmen of all descriptionsadministered to the wants both of these and of the nobles of Edward'scourt.
From one of the side doors of the palace a page, some fifteen orsixteen years of age, ran down the steps in haste. He was evidentlya Saxon by his fair hair and fresh complexion, and any observer ofthe time would have seen that he must, therefore, be in the employmentof Earl Harold, the great minister, who had for many years virtuallyruled England in the name of its king.
The young page was strongly and sturdily built. His garb was anEnglish one, but with some admixture of Norman fashions. He woretightly-fitting leg coverings, a garment somewhat resembling ablouse of blue cloth girded in by a belt at the waist, and fallingin folds to the knee. Over his shoulders hung a short mantle oforange colour with a hood. On his head was a cap with a wide brimthat was turned up closely behind, and projected in a pointed shovelshape in front. In his belt was a small dagger. He wore shoes oflight yellow leather fastened by bands over the insteps. As he randown the steps of the palace he came into sharp contact with anotherpage who had just turned the corner of the street.
"I crave your pardon, Walter Fitz-Urse," he said hurriedly, "but Iwas in haste and saw you not."
The other lad was as clearly Norman as the speaker wasSaxon. He was perhaps a year the senior in point of age, andtaller by half a head, but was of slighter build. The expressionof his face differed as widely from that of the Saxon as didhis swarthy complexion and dark hair, for while the latterface wore a frank and pleasant expression, that of the Normanwas haughty and arrogant.
"You did it on purpose," he said angrily, "and were we notunder the shadow of the palace I would chastise you as youdeserve."
The smile died suddenly out from the Saxon's face. "Chastiseme!" he repeated. "You would find it somewhat difficult,Master Fitz-Urse. Do you think you are talking to a Normanserf? You will please to remember you are in England; but ifyou are not satisfied with my apology, I will ride with you afew miles into the country, and we will then try with equalarms where the chastisement is to fall."
The Norman put his hand to his dagger, but there was anominous growl from some men who had paused to listen to thequarrel.
"You are an insolent boor, Wulf of Steyning, and some dayI will punish you as you deserve."
"Some day," the Saxon laughed, "we shall, I hope, see youand all your tribe sent across the Channel. There are few ofus here who would not see your backs with pleasure."
"What is this?" an imperious voice demanded; and turninground, Wulf saw William, the Norman Bishop of London, who,followed by several monks and pages, had pushed his waythrough the crowd. "Walter Fitz-Urse, what means this altercation?"
"The Saxon ran against me of set purpose, my lord," Walter Fitz-Ursesaid, in tones of deep humility, "and because I complained hechallenged me to ride with him into the country to fight, and thenhe said he hoped that some day all the Normans would be sent acrossthe Channel."
"Is this so?" the prelate said sternly to Wulf; "did youthus insult not only my page, but all of us, his countrymen?"
"I ran against him by accident," Wulf said, looking up fearlesslyin the prelate's face. "I apologized, though I know not that I wasmore in fault than he; but instead of taking my apology as one ofgentle blood should do, he spoke like a churl, and threatened mewith chastisement, and then I did say that I hoped he and all otherNormans in the land would some day be packed across the Channel."
"Your ears ought to be slit as an insolent varlet."
"I meant no insolence, my Lord Bishop; and as to the slitting ofmy ears, I fancy Earl Harold, my master, would have something tosay on that score."
The prelate was about to reply, but glancing at the angry faces ofthe growing crowd, he said coldly:
"I shall lay the matter before him. Come, Walter, enough of this.You are also somewhat to blame for not having received more courteouslythe apologies of this saucy page."
The crowd fell back with angry mutterings as he turned, and, followedby Walter Fitz-Urse and the ecclesiastics, made his way along thestreet to the principal entrance of the palace. Without waitingto watch his departure, Wulf, the Saxon page, pushed his way throughthe crowd, and went off at full speed to carry the message withwhich he had been charged.
"Our king is a good king," a squarely-built man,—whose bare armswith the knotted muscles showing through the skin, and hands begrimedwith charcoal, indicated that he was a smith,—remarked to a gossipas the little crowd broke up, "but it is a grievous pity that hewas brought up a Norman, still more that he was not left in peaceto pass his life as a monk as he desired. He fills the land withhis Normans; soon as an English bishop dies, straightway a Normanis clapped into his place. All the offices at court are filledwith them, and it is seldom a word of honest English is spoken inthe palace. The Norman castles are rising over the land, and hisfavourites divide among them the territory of every English earlor thane who incurs the