CHAPTER XVII.
EVIL COUNSELLORS.
"All good to me is lost. Evil, be thou my good."
Milton.
Great was the chagrin and rage manifested by Vigneau, Count de Montfort,and the Normans generally, at this unexpected rebuff; and increasedcruelties and indignities were heaped upon the hapless and degradedSaxons who had accepted the yoke of villeinage. Indeed, the lives ofthese Saxons were of no account whatever; and the honour of the Saxonwomen was at the mercy of besotted and degraded Norman troopers. Veryfew indeed were there amongst the Saxons who had not grievous cause tocherish the most deadly hatred against these ruthless oppressors andusurpers, the Normans.
It was too much to expect that, amid the general confiscation, themonastery should continue to be governed by myself, and that monks ofSaxon origin should minister to the poor and the sick, and have controlof our endowments. So, as I had expected, one fateful day, my office wastaken from me and bestowed upon a Norman Father, who, with a number ofmonks, had followed at the heels of the conquerors, and were as greedyfor the emoluments of the Church, as their brethren-in-arms were for thepossessions of the Saxon laymen. So one Father Vigneau, who was abrother of Baron Vigneau, became our Abbot, and degradation and muchoppression was meted out to us Saxons, with the object of driving usforth to other shelter, or to become mendicant friars or mere hedgepriests. Some of my subordinates went forth, like Abraham, to seek acountry. Some cast in their lot with their outlawed countrymen, and, Iam sorry to say, not unfrequently became as great adepts at the wieldingof carnal weapons as they were at saying Mass or burying the dead. But Ihad so many ties, and such affection for my flock, that I resolved tostay and bear the heavy yoke; counting it no small honour to be foundworthy to suffer like my Master.
I was also greatly fortified in this my resolve by the friendship andhelp which I received at the hands of Alice De Montfort, who proved tobe a real friend, not only to myself, but to all who were in sufferingand distress.
Our new Abbot, I found, had not been trained to the service of theChurch, but had been, at one time, a soldier by profession. Latterly hehad taken to the Church, as I suspect because he found the sacredcalling less arduous, and could be made to serve his inordinate desirefor idleness and good living. His god was indeed his belly, and his lifeloose and irregular to great excess. He was a man of florid countenance,and much too pursy for a man whose first duty was to crucify the flesh.His garments, also, ill became a man in the sacred office he hadassumed. He was an exceedingly vain man, and loved to adorn his person,and affect the airs and swaggering gait of a young gallant. By his sidehe constantly dangled a sword, and under his monk's robes he usuallywore a coat of link-mail--which, I suspected, arose from a cowardly fearof assassination; for, despite his swaggering deportment, I ever foundhim to be an arrant coward, and, like every coward, relentless andcruel, loving to oppress and to insult those whose position made it easyfor him so to do.
Amongst the monks who came with him I found not one truly holy anddevoted man. Most of them were so ignorant as to be totally unable toread the sacred books in the Latin tongue. These men, like theirsuperior, lived loose, irregular lives; habitually neglecting prayers,fasting, and abstinence from carnal indulgences. Indeed, of most ofthem, if it had not been for their dress they could not have beendistinguished from the riotous and disorderly soldiery.
Our new Abbot and his brother, Baron Vigneau, were spending the nighttogether, indulging in one of those nightly carousals which were adisgrace and a crying scandal to our ancient and holy monastery, whichhad earned itself a good repute by the piety and learning of thebrotherhood, and by the wise and charitable administration of theprincely revenues which appertained to it. Never had it been known, intimes past, that any palmer, or wandering minstrel, had been turned awayfrom its hospitable doors, unhoused and unfed; and any distressed orsuffering peasant was sure to have sympathy in trouble, and relief inwant. But since the advent of the Normans, its revenues were dissipatedby rioting and drunkenness, chambering and wantonness, and inentertaining Norman riff-raff and debauching Saxons, who were willing tosell themselves for the gluttonous eating and drinking to which theywere treated. In vain it was for us Saxons to preach virtue and chastityto the poor peasantry, whose cattle, implements of husbandry, and homes,had been destroyed, and who could not till the ground, knowing that theywould be despoiled of their harvest. The poor were at best half starved,and subjected to most gross and cruel treatment.
To-night, however, more than ordinarily weighty matters were beingdiscussed over their wine by the brothers.
"What progress, then, have you made in the matter?" said the Abbot.
"Well, I have, by a most determined effort, forced the Count, muchagainst his will, to name a day for the fulfilment of his promise. Butthe jade, his daughter, takes high ground, and I fancy to get her noseto the grindstone will be no easy task."
"I suppose it is the old excuse the vixen makes?"
"Yes; my tongue is not smooth enough, and my manners do not suit herdainty notions. She's in a precious dudgeon just now over a Saxon wenchI took a fancy to; and she's as flighty as a two-year-old filly, and asproud as Lucifer. In fact, she gets more stately and arrogant from dayto day. Never mind!" said he, bringing his fist down upon the table."I'll take her ladyship down a peg or two by-and-bye. I scarcely knowwhether I love or hate her most, now. She's got a pretty face andfigure, or I'd as soon try steel upon her as wed her."
"Well, I must confess she's a very handsome wench, brother--not a finerin Britain; but I never see her without feeling that I would givesomething to humble her pride. You think the Count would be out of it ifhe knew how to get, do you?"
"Not a shadow of a doubt of it. He would murder me at a minute's notice,if he could get possession of those letters I told you about. But heknows you are fully informed about them, and of his treachery toWilliam, and he dare not resort to violence until he knows how to securethe letters by his effort. I have come to the conclusion to hand themover to you; they will be safer than in my possession."
"They contain conclusive evidence of his treachery, don't they?"
"No mistake about that. They are in his own handwriting, and sealed withhis own crest and coat-of-arms. They make offer upon certainconsiderations, to sell his influence and his men to the Saxons duringWilliam's absence. He was also fool enough to give me a written promiseof his daughter's hand, in consideration of my fidelity to him. Nothingin the world could be clearer and straighter than the whole thing. Hesees now pretty clearly that _his_ game is up; but I'll show him that_my_ game is not up, or likely to be, until he hands over his statelydaughter."
"He must have greatly miscalculated the odds when he put his head into anoose like that."
"Yes; he's not played many false cards in his life, but that was one,and he will lose his head by it if he does not play up square with theremainder. I'll promise him that much at least."
"What cause had he to quarrel with the king?"
"Oh, jealousy. He prides himself upon the services he has rendered toWilliam, and he expected in consequence to be high in the king's favour,and in his council. He expected to have some fat lands too, near toLondon. William, however, did not think so highly of his services, orelse he had been prejudiced against him by some courtezan, which is moreprobable. Anyhow, no sooner was William firmly seated on the throne thanhe gave De Montfort the cold shoulder. He made Odo, Lanfranc, andFitz-Osborne his chosen counsellors.
"Now, a mortal feud existed between Odo and De Montfort, and he quicklygot the cold side of his master's favours. He had given to him a paltryestate in the Fen country, where he had that Saxon devil, Hereward,hanging on to his skirts, and foraging all over his possessions,whenever hunger drove him from his infernal den in the marshes. Theslight which he received rankled, I can promise you; and when theinsurrection broke out whilst William was in Normandy, and when theSaxons took York, and put to the sword the garrison of three thousandNormans, with the Danes swarming i
nto the Humber ripe for plunder, andthe Atheling trooping in from Scotland--why, the cunning of the wily onewas at fault for once. He thought the thing would succeed; and succeedit would have done, sure enough, if it had not been levelled againstthat devil's own favourite, William. He sent me with letters to Waltheofand the others, offering to put his men into the field on condition thathe received ample reward. He hoped no doubt, also, that he would get alittle revenge upon his enemies at Court.
"When I got to York I was not foolish enough to rush into the thinguntil I saw how matters looked. I had a bit of respect for my own neck,whether I had for De Montfort's or not. If he was willing to risk hishead to gratify his spite, the prospect was not alluring enough for me.Well, I did not like the look of Waltheof, and whilst I waited, Williamhurried across the Channel, and, with a stroke of matchless craft, hebought off the rascally Danes. The double-dyed traitor and coward,Waltheof, very soon succumbed to the same influences; and away also wentthe Atheling, full speed, for Scotland. I saw the thing was burst up. Afew of the smaller chieftains, like this Saxon Oswald, held their groundand fought it out; but it was a nine days' wonder, and nothing more.
"Well, I thought I would try a cast of my own net. I had followed thefortunes of De Montfort to very little profit as yet. I had thought byfollowing the fortunes of a leader like him, I should get a tolerablyfair share of the spoils; and I had an understanding that I should havethe hand of his daughter. But, I had already begun to notice that thedamsel was not made altogether of pleasant humours, and probably shewould require a good deal of persuading to complete the bargain. So Itold him I had handed the letters to a brother of mine who was in theChurch, and held in favour by Lanfranc; and, brother, that accounts foryour being installed in such a snug crib as this. I flaunt theseletters, metaphorically speaking, pretty regularly before him, to keephim to the mark. The operation makes him wince; but, whether he likes itor not, it will be done, and to greater purpose, I can assure you, ifhis word is not made good shortly, and his friskish daughter brought toher senses."
"Well, take the letters," said the Baron, tossing them across to hisbrother. "Pour out a flagon of good old sack; preaching is drythroat-work. I say, what has become of that pretty Saxon wench I foundhere at first? Have you any idea? I had no notion they bred cattle ofthat quality amongst these louts of Saxons. You have not seen anythingof her about, have you, since you came?"
"No. I heard of that little stroke of yours, but I've not seen the wenchat all; but I have a notion that old Saxon snake, Adhelm, knows allabout it. I would have made an end of him long before this, but thatminx Alice has taken him under her protection. I would take an oath he'sin league with those rats on the hill, and he is making mischief amongour own brotherhood! One fellow, who has half the brains of themonastery, has given utterance to sundry remonstrances which I shall nottolerate; and I find that he and Adhelm are very friendly."
"Well, take care of the letters anyhow; I shall feel safer when they areout of my custody."