CHAPTER XII. THE MONASTERY OF ABINGDON.
One of the central lights of civilisation and Christianity in theearly days of Wessex was the monastery of Abingdon. St. Birinus hadfixed the centre of his missionary labours at Dorchester, only sixmiles distant, but the Abbey was the fruit of the heroic zeal ofanother evangelist, upon whom his mantle fell--St. Wilfrid. After thedeath of Birinus, the zeal of his successors failed to evangelise thesoutheastern districts of Wessex, until, at length, came Wilfrid,fervent in zeal, and, stationing himself at Selsey, near Chichester,evangelised both Sussex and Wessex, sending out missionarieslike-minded with himself, even into the most inaccessible wilds.
Centwin was then king of Sussex, but various petty states weretributary to him, and ruled by viceroys. One of these viceroys wasCissa, whose dominions included Wiltshire and the greater part ofBerkshire {ix}. This Cissa and his nephew, Hean, founded Abingdon.A mission was sent out from Chichester which attracted greatmultitudes of the Berkshire folk. Hean was present, and heard thepreacher take for his text that verse of St. Matthew which declaresthat it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle thanfor a rich man to enter the kingdom of God. These words entered intothe hearts of Hean and his sister Cilla, who was with him. Theydetermined to go and sell all that they had and embrace a life ofpoverty. From their uncle, Cissa, they obtained grants of land,whereon they founded monastic homes. Cilla dedicated the convent shereared to St. Helena, the mother of Constantine, traditions of whoselife in the neighbourhood had survived the Saxon Conquest.
Hean obtained the land of which Abingdon formed the central point,then generally known by the name Cloveshoo. He was tardy in his workas contrasted with his sister, and Cissa died without seeing the workfor which he had given the land accomplished. Ceadwalla succeeded him(A.D. 685), and further augmented the territory. He rebelled againstCentwin, and became king of Wessex; spending most of his life inwarfare; it was through his conquest of the island that the "Wight"became Christian. He made a pilgrimage to Rome, where he died, afterhis baptism by Pope Sergius.
Ina, his successor (A.D. 688), was so angry at the long delay inbuilding the monastery, that at first he revoked the grant of hispredecessors to Hean, but becoming reconciled, gave all his energy tothe work, and Cloveshoo {x}, or Abingdon, became a monastic town,and its history commences as a house of God from Ina, about A.D.690-700.
Important benefits were thus conferred on the whole neighbourhood;agriculture flourished, learning increased, a sanctuary for theoppressed was provided, and last, though not least in Ina's eyes, abulwark against Mercia was provided for the neighbourhood; while thepoor and the afflicted found their happiness in every way promoted bythe neighbourhood of the monastery.
Several times the monastery was in peril by reason of the wars betweenWessex and Mercia. In A. D. 752, Cuthred of Wessex defeated Ethelbaldof Mercia at Burford, hard by, and protected Abingdon from furtheraggressions. Twenty-five years later the decision of war was reversed.Offa, the great and fierce king of Mercia, defeated Cynewulf ofWessex, at Bensington, and spoiled the land, destroying the convent ofSt. Helena, founded by Cilla, and grievously robbing and oppressingAbingdon.
But the most awful calamity it ever underwent was its destruction inthe first great Danish invasion, in the early days of King Alfred,when it was literally levelled with the ground, only, however, toarise in greater magnificence when the storm had passed away.
However the period of anarchy had introduced evils which required astern reformer, and one was found in the person of the abbotEthelwold, the friend of St. Dunstan, who, in conjunction with him andOswald, introduced the rule of St. Benedict into Abingdon,Glastonbury, Ely, and other great houses, which, by its absoluteprohibition of monastic idleness, and its wise regulations, caused thereligious houses of that period to become the central points ofcivilisation and learning in the land.
Here, at this famous monastery, we resume Father Cuthbert's Diary.
In festo St. Edmundi.
Again I resume my diary, at the great monastic house of Abingdon,where I have rejoined my brethren. I have already told how, in companywith Elfwyn, Father Adhelm and I sought the forest farm where ourbeloved ones had found refuge from the cruel oppressor. The joy of thewomen and children to whom their husbands and fathers were thusrestored was very touching; all seemed willing to forget thedestruction of their homes, since they had been spared to each other,and I, to whom, by my vows, such love is unknown, yet could but feelhow holy a thing is family affection.
Alas, there was one family where the bitterness of death had found itsway. I cannot describe the touching scene when Elfwyn told the fate ofdear Bertric. Well, they will learn by and by to thank God for him andhis example, for we doubt not he died a martyr, although we know notthe details, and, unless Alfgar yet lives, shall perhaps never knowthem.
We held a long consultation upon our future movements. It was wiselydecided not to rebuild Aescendune at present, for the place where theynow are can be rendered very commodious, and is far more secureagainst a foe. We do not dare to hope that we have seen the last ofour troubles; the Danes are wintering in the Wight, ready for freshmischief next spring and summer.
We have been able to learn nothing of Alfgar; but we think that Anlafprobably yet lives, and that he has recovered his son; yet we cannotimagine how he escaped on St. Brice's night.
Well, to return. We at once set to work, and erected a church oftimber, for the service of God; and I said mass in it the first Sundayafter our arrival there. It may be supposed it is not a very grandchurch; but God looks at the living stones, and reads the heart.
We all had enough to do for the first few days; but within a week onemight suppose we had been living there an age. Log huts were erectedfor the whole population; the old farm house, which is large andstrongly built, taking the place of the hall. One must dispense withsome comfort now.
My brother sent a portion of his men to rejoin the army, but feelshimself justified in entering at once on his winter quarters with theremainder; in fact, since my arrival at Abingdon, the troops have allbeen dismissed for the winter, and the Danes have, as I said, retiredto the Wight.
Then, leaving Father Adhelm in charge of the woodland settlement, Idetermined to visit my brethren here, where I have been received withall Christian love and hospitality by the abbot and his brethren.Three days my journey lasted. I travelled with only two attendants,serfs of our house; a poor prior burnt out from house and home.
Nov. 21st, 1006.--
This evening I heard heavy steps on the stairs, and methought theirtread seemed familiar, as well it might, for no sooner had the dooropened than my son Alfgar, for whom we had mourned as dead, or atleast dead to us, fell upon my neck and wept.
It was a long time before either of us was composed enough to saymuch, but when we had a little recovered, the abbot who had broughtthem to my rooms introduced a tall young man in gleeman's garb, asEdmund the Etheling.
At length we all sat down to supper, but talked so much we could eatlittle, and I soon learned all the news Alfgar had to tell. His taleis wonderful; he has been indeed delivered from the mouth of the lion,nay, from the jaws of the fierce lion; but I must set down all thingsin order.
The one thing which delights me most is the way in which his faith hasstood the hard hard test to which it has been put.
But my dear nephew Bertric, Saint Bertric we must assuredly call him,oh how it will lighten the grief of his parents and sister to know howgloriously he died for Christ! One could envy him his crown.
And then how delighted Ethelgiva will be to learn not only that Alfgaris alive, but to hear how true and brave he has been.
But when all these congratulations were over, and we had learned allthat Alfgar had to tell, there was evidently something on the mind ofthe prince.
"Alfgar and I have a very important duty to perform," he said.
I waited, and he proceeded.
"There has been grievous treachery in our ranks. Edric Streorn has
sold us to the Danes."
"I feared as much," said I, sadly.
"I learned it at Carisbrooke, and am now on my way to Dorchester,where my royal father has arrived, or will arrive tomorrow. I shouldhave gone there at once, but Alfgar learned you were here, and wouldcome. Besides, we need your help to fit us for appearing at court."
And, in truth, their habiliments were not very royal.
Well, Abingdon is a town of great resources, wherein all things meetmay be found.
"We will to the tradesmen tomorrow," I said, "and fit you for thepresence."
"I have yet heavier news to unfold," Edmund added, very seriously."The Danes purpose a winter campaign in the heart of the land, hopingto take us unawares."
"Now the saints forbid!" said I.
"Even so; but they are not all with us. St. Brice is against us."
I sighed, and so did they. The very remembrance of that day issickening.
"We have heard," said the abbot, "that the king will arrive tomorrowat Dorchester; we will send you thither in the morning. Meanwhile, mysons, you do not eat and drink as I would have you. Remember you needto sustain exhausted nature."
That was indeed true. They had travelled fast, and had fasted by theway, of necessity.
"Well, Alfgar, we will tomorrow to the king," said Edmund, after theyhad eaten and drunken; "he must surely listen to us now."
"He appears to love this wicked Edric," said the abbot sorrowfully.
"Far better than his own flesh and blood," replied Edmund.
"My son," said the abbot, "rest here this night in our poor house;tomorrow we will find you both horses and fitting apparel, and yeshall go meetly to the king, who is the guest of the bishop."
"I shall not be sorry, father, to see the inside of my chamber," saidthe young prince; for he is yet young, although so wise andvaliant--not more than a year or two older than Alfgar.
The compline bell rang.
"I will go with you to thank God first for our deliverance, and to paymy vows to Him," said Edmund; "then to bed."
After compline, Edmund went from the chapel to bed. Alfgar would notretire. He came to my cell; there he talked with me for a full hour.His affection moves me greatly. He has evidently found a real friendin Prince Edmund, who has delivered him from a cruel death, and whowants to attach him permanently to his service. Meanwhile Alfgar isall haste to return to Aescendune and Ethelgiva, before any furthersteps are taken.
Saturday, Nov. 22d, 1006.--
After we had arrayed the Etheling and Alfgar this morning, I decidedto accompany them on their road to Dorchester, for it happened that Ihad arranged to say mass and preach tomorrow at the little church ofSt. Michael at Clifton, the residence of my sister Bertha and herhusband Herstan. It lies on a cliff over the Thames, on the way to thecathedral city, whence its name, "the town on the cliff."
So we started, the Etheling, Alfgar, and I, after the chapter mass atnine. We crossed the fine timber bridge over the Isis, then kept thecauseway over the marshes, till, crossing an arm of the main stream,we ascended a hill and passed through the open country.
On the north the country is richly wooded. There lies the chase ofNeweham, abounding in deer, with a few wolves yet lingering in itsrecesses, and forming sport for the ceorls.
In the neighbourhood of a great monastery the roads are always good,and waggons can travel easily and smoothly from Abingdon toDorchester. So, being well mounted, we were only the best part of anhour in reaching Clifton.
The river here makes a sudden bend to the east, after running for sometime almost due north, and at the bend the steep cliff rises whereonthe little church and my brother Herstan's hall is built, with a fewcottages below and around occupied by his theows.
We went first to the church and offered our devotions. From theelevated ground whereon it stands, the cathedral of Dorchester and theSynodune hills formed conspicuous objects.
Then we turned to the hall, and met a reception such as warmed theheart. When we had refreshed ourselves, I had to tell Bertha all thestrange events which have recently happened at Aescendune; of thedestruction of her old home, but of the well being of all her friends;yes, of all, for we know that he has won the martyr's crown.
Some natural tears she dropped; but I think she soon came to see allthings in their right light, as we try to do.
Soon after our arrival, Herstan sent a messenger to Dorchester tolearn at what hour the king was expected; and the answer was returned,that they expected him in time for the banquet at the episcopal palacethis evening. So Edmund and Alfgar consented to pass the day quietlyat Cliffton.