Great Britain -- History -- William I, 1066-1087 -- Fiction
"Adieu, my son," said I, laying my hand upon his head. "May the God of
our fathers nerve thy arm for the protection of thy humbler fellows, and
give thee wisdom and discretion in this terrible day of thy country's
visitation!"
With tearful eyes I watched the receding form of this noble Saxon. No
carnal offspring could be dearer to an earthly parent than he to me. I
had watched over him from infancy, educated him, travelled with him in
many foreign lands; and I hoped he would be a great leader in
statesmanship, in learning, and in all the arts of peace. Now, alas! I
fear circumstance will make him a man of war, and a stern leader of
bloody and desperate men.
CHAPTER VI.
BARON VIGNEAU.
"All is lost save honour."
Early on the morrow, strange rumours and stories, which made the blood
curdle, were brought to the monastery by refugees from far and near.
Both gentle and simple fled hither, being buoyed up by the widespread,
but in this case delusive notion, that sanctuary walls would be sacredly
respected. Amongst the number was the lovely daughter of the worthy
Thane Beowulf, who, along with his son, had been slain in resisting the
advance of the Normans. My heart sank within me as I looked upon her
great beauty, realising with painful vividness how helpless and impotent
I was to protect her--well knowing that lust and rapine, let loose,
would not be awed or restrained even by the sanctity of the Church.
I had commanded the monks, with all refugees, to repair to the chapel
for prayer, whilst I at the first summons repaired to the gate with some
of the housecarles and lay brothers, and commanded the gates to be
thrown open, when in poured a motley crowd of soldiers and men-at-arms,
evidently bent on plunder, and totally uncontrolled by any sort of
discipline. The crowd surged by me and carried me along, deriding my
entreaties to be heard. One leader, in complete armour, and whom I
afterwards ascertained to be Baron Vigneau, I appealed to in vain. He
rudely pushed me aside with an oath, bidding me say my prayers to the
devil, for he would soon have me and my monkish crew.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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