The Siege of Norwich Castle: A story of the last struggle against the ConquerorBlake, M. M. (Matilda Maria)
General
The Siege of Norwich Castle: A story of the last struggle against the Conqueror
Blake, M. M. (Matilda Maria)
Historical fiction; William I, King of England, 1027 or 8-1087 -- Fiction
After a while, though much against his will, Lanfranc was induced to
leave Normandy, and assume the onerous post of Primate of William's
newly-conquered kingdom of England. He even appealed to Pope Alexander
II. to extricate him from the difficulties of such high office, and to
permit him to return to the monastic life, which above all things
delighted him. But the Pope refused to interfere, and Lanfranc accepted
the inevitable, and set to work with courageous zeal to make the best
of his manifold duties. And he acquitted himself like a brave and good
man, steering a wise course amongst the jealous Normans and aggrieved
Saxons, selecting virtuous men to fill the posts which became vacant;
and though, no doubt, partaking the prejudices of the conquerors, yet
securing good men amongst the Saxon clergy as friends. The Church of
England owes much to him, for he was distinctly an imperialist, and
stoutly resisted papal aggression, laying the seeds of that nationality
which has saved us from so many evils.
It may be imagined that the simple-minded and gentle Waltheof, much
more adept at wielding a seax than at chopping logic, and who was as
wax in the hands of his clever wife, was as water under the treatment
of this subtle Lombard, who could mould to his wishes even the
self-willed and astute William.
The archbishop received the Earl of Northumberland with much pomp and
circumstance, giving him the ceremonious honour due to his high rank
and his position as husband of the king's niece, so that Waltheof had
to beg for a private interview.
This being granted, the unhappy hero knew not how to begin his forced
confession, and the keen black eyes with which Lanfranc searched his
face did not lessen his confusion.
But the archbishop had no intent to deal harshly with his illustrious
penitent.
His features softened with a winning smile. 'What hast thou to say to
me, my son?' he asked in a gentle voice. 'Why hesitate? Dost thou not
know me for a true friend?'
'Alas, father! I have a sad tale of sin and weakness to reveal to thine
ears,' said the son of Siward at length. 'But I pray thee advise me. I
have taken an oath, and since then, heated with wine, and somewhat
overawed by numbers, I have taken a second contrary thereto. By which
am I bound? Am I forsworn in that, notwithstanding this second oath, I
sent the messenger to thee, who, if nought mischanced, reached
Canterbury some four days agone?'
'Thou hast sinned, my son, answered the archbishop gravely; 'but not so
heavily but that, after due penance, the offence may be pardoned. An
unwilling oath, taken under the compulsion of an excited crowd, can
scarce bind as that which was the fruit of calm reflection and sober
judgment. Rather must it be accounted evil in thee, that thou didst
consort with a man who was anathema of the Holy Church.' His mobile
face grew stern, but it was a sternness not unmixed with sorrow.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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