So they approached the spot, and, after much labour to get at the well, drank of the water, which had a brackish taste, and proceeded on their journey southward through Kirtlington, then a considerable city, although now a small village. It was their intention to pa.s.s by the cathedral city of Dorchester, where Wulfstan was then bishop, where they arrived on the second night of their journey.
It was the largest city Elfric had as yet seen, possessing several churches, of which only one now remains. The hand of the ruthless Danes had not yet been laid heavily upon it, and the magnificence of the sacred fanes, built by cunning architects from abroad, amazed the Mercian boy.
There was the tomb of the great Birinus, the apostle of Mercia, who had founded the see in the year 630 A.D., and to whose shrine mult.i.tudes of pilgrims flocked each year. But the remains of Roman greatness most astonished Elfric. The ruins of the amphitheatre situate near the river Tame were grand even in their decay, and all the imaginative faculties of the boy were aroused, as one of the most learned inhabitants described the scenes of former days, of which tradition had been preserved, the gladiatorial combats, the wild beast fights.
The heir of Aescendune found hospitality at the episcopal palace, where Wulfstan,[vii] once the turbulent Archbishop of York, held his court.
The prelate seemed favourably impressed with his youthful guest, whom he dismissed with a warm commendation to Dunstan.
They left the city early in the morning, and pa.s.sed through Baenesington (Benson), which having been originally taken from the Welsh by the Saxon chieftain Cuthulf, in the year 571, became the scene of the great victory of Offa, the Mercian king, over Cynewulf of Wess.e.x in the year 777. One of Elfric"s ancestors had fought on the side of Offa, and the exploits of this doughty warrior had formed the subject of a ballad often sung in the winter evenings at Aescendune, so that Elfric explored the scene with great curiosity. Inferior to Dorchester, it was still a considerable town.
Late at night they reached Reading, where they slept, and started early on the morrow for London, where they arrived on the evening of the fourth day.
CHAPTER IV. LONDON IN THE OLDEN TIME.
London, in the days of King Edred, differed widely from the stately and populous city we know in these days, and almost as widely from the elegant "_Colonia Augusta_," or Londinium, of the Roman period. Narrow, crooked, and unpaved lanes wound between houses, or rather lowly cottages, built of timber, and roofed with thatch, so that it is not wonderful that a conflagration was an event to be dreaded.
Evidence met the eye on every side how utterly the first Englishmen had failed to preserve the cities they had conquered, and how far inferior they were in cultivation, or rather civilisation, to the softer race they had so ruthlessly expelled; for on every side broken pedestal and shattered column appeared clumsily imbedded in the rude domestic architecture of our forefathers.
St. Paul"s Cathedral rose on the hill once sacred to Diana but was wholly built within the ruins of the vast temple which had once occupied the site, and which, magnificent in decay, still surrounded it like an outwork. Further on were the wrecks of the citadel, where once the stern legionary had watched by day and night, and where Roman discipline and order had held sway, while the wall raised by Constantine, broken and imperfect, still rose on the banks of the river. Near the Ludgate was the palace of the Saxon king, and the ruins of an aqueduct overshadowed its humbler portal, while without the walls the river Fleet rolled, amidst vineyards and pleasant meadows dotted with houses, to join the mighty Thames.
Edred, the reigning king of England, was the brother of the murdered Edmund, and, in accordance with the custom of the day, had ascended the throne on the death of his brother, seeing that the two infant sons of the late king, Edwy and Edgar, were too young to reign, and the idea of hereditary right was not sufficiently developed in the minds of our forefathers to suggest the notion of a regency. It must also be remembered that, within certain limits, there was an elective power in the Witenagemot or Parliament, although generally limited in its scope to members of the royal family.
Edred was of very delicate const.i.tution, and suffered from an inward disease which seldom allowed him an interval of rest and ease. Like so many sufferers he had found his consolation in religion, and the only crime ever laid to his charge (if it were a crime) was that he loved the Church too much. Still he had repeatedly proved that he was strong in purpose and will, and the insurgent Danes who had settled in Northumbria had owned his prowess. In the internal affairs of his kingdom he was chiefly governed by the advice of the great ecclesiastic and statesman, with whose name our readers will shortly become familiar.
Upon the morning after the arrival of Elfric in London, Edwy, the young prince, and his new companion, sat in a room on the upper floor of the palace, which had but two floors, and would have been considered in these days very deficient in architectural beauty.
The window of the room opened upon the river, and commanded a pleasant view of the woods and meadows on the Surrey side, then almost uninhabited, being completely unprotected in case of invasion, a contingency never long absent from the mind in the days of the sea kings.
A table covered with ma.n.u.scripts, both in Latin and Anglo-Saxon, occupied the centre of the room, and there Elfric was seated, looking somewhat aimlessly at a Latin vocabulary, while Edwy was standing listlessly at the window. The "library," if it deserved the name, was very unlike a modern library; books were few, and yet very expensive, so that perhaps there was no fuller collection in any layman"s house in the kingdom. There were Alfred"s translations into Anglo-Saxon, the "_Chronicle of Orosius_," or the history of the World; the "_History of the Venerable Bede_," both in his original Latin and in English; Boethius on the "_Consolations of Philosophy_;" narratives from ancient mythology; extracts from the works of St. Augustine and St. Gregory; and the Apologues or Fables from Aesop.[viii]
"Oh, put those stupid books aside," exclaimed the prince; "this is your first day in town, and I mean to take a holiday; that surly old Dunstan should have left word to that effect last night."
"Will he not be here soon?"
"Yes, he is coming this morning, the old bear, to superintend my progress, and I wish him joy thereof."
"What has he given you to do?" inquired Elfric.
"Why, a wretched exercise to write out. There, you see it before you; isn"t it a nuisance?"
"It is not very hard, is it?"
"Don"t you think it hard? See whether you can do it!"
Elfric smiled, and wrote out the simple Latin with ease, for he had been well instructed by Father Cuthbert at Aescendune.
He had scarcely finished when a firm step was heard upon the stairs.
"Hush," said Edwy; "here comes Dunstan. Be sure you look solemn enough,"
and he composed his own countenance into an expression of preternatural gravity.
The door opened, and an ecclesiastic in the prime of life entered the room, one whose mien impressed the beholder with an indefinable awe.
He was dressed in the Benedictine habit, just then becoming common in England, and his features were those of a man formed by nature to command, while they reconciled the beholder to the admission of the fact by the sad yet sweet smile which frequently played on the shapely countenance. He was now in the thirtieth year of his age, having been born in the first year of King Athelstane, and had been abbot of Glas...o...b..ry for several years, although his services as counsellor to King Edred had led him to spend much of his time in town, and he had therefore accepted the general direction of the education of the heir to the throne. Such was Dunstan.
He seemed but little welcome to Edwy, and the benediction with which he greeted his pupil was but coldly received.
Not appearing to notice this, he mildly said, "You must introduce your young companion to me, my prince. Am I not right in concluding that I see before me Elfric, heir to the lands of Aescendune?"
Elfric blushed as he bent the knee to the great churchman to receive the priestly benediction with which he was greeted, but remained silent.
"Father Cuthbert, whom I knew well years agone, has told me about you, and your brother Alfred; is not that his name?"
"He is so named, my father."
"I am glad to perceive that my royal pupil has chosen so meet a companion, for Father Cuthbert speaks well of your learning. You write the Latin tongue, he tells me, with some little facility."
Elfric feared his powers had been overrated.
"I trust you have resumed your studies after your long holiday,"
continued Dunstan. "Youth is the season for sowing, age for reaping."
"I have had a very bad headache," said Edwy, "and have only been able to write a page of Latin. Here it is, father."
And he extended the exercise Elfric had written to the abbot, who looked at the writing for one moment, and then glanced severely at the prince.
The character was very like his own, but there was a difference.
"Is this your handwriting, Prince Edwy?" he asked.
"Of course. Elfric saw me write it, did you not?"
Elfric was not used to falsehood; he could not frame his lips to say "Yes."
Dunstan observed his confusion, and he turned to the prince with a look in which contempt seemed to struggle with pa.s.sive self-possession.
"I trust, Edwy," he said, "you will remember that the word of a king is said to be his bond, and so should the word of a prince be if he ever hopes to reign. I shall give Father Benedict charge to superintend your studies as usual."
He wished them a grave good morning, and left the room.
As soon as the last sound of his steps had ceased, Edwy turned sharply to Elfric--"Why did you not say yes at once? Surely you have a tongue?"
"It has never learnt to lie."
"Pooh! What is the harm of such a white lie as that would have been? If you cannot give the credit of a Latin exercise, which you happen to have written, to your future king, you must be selfish; it is my writing, if you give it me, isn"t it?"
Elfric did not quite see the matter in that light, yet did not care to dispute the point; but his conscience was ill at ease, and he was glad to change the subject.
"When can we go out?" he said, for he was anxious to see the city.