Comic History of England

CHAPTER VIII.

THE NORMAN CONQUEST: COMPLEX COMMINGLING OF FACETIOUS ACCORD AND IMPLACABLE DISCORD

[Illustration: WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR.]

The Norman invasion was one of the most unpleasant features of this period. Harold had violated his oath to William, and many of his superstitious followers feared to assist him on that account. His brother advised him to wait a few years and permit the invader to die of exposure. Thus, excommunicated by the Pope and not feeling very well anyway, Harold went into the battle of Hastings, October 14, 1066. For nine hours they fought, the English using their celebrated squirt-guns filled with hot water and other fixed ammunition. Finally Harold, while straightening his sword across his knee, got an arrow in the eye, and abandoned the fight in order to investigate the surprises of a future state.

In this battle the contusions alone amounted to over ninety-seven, to say nothing of fractures, concussions, and abrasions.

Among other casualties, the nobility of the South of England was killed.

Harold's body was buried by the sea-shore, but many years afterwards disinterred, and, all signs of vitality having disappeared, he was buried again in the church he had founded at Waltham.

The Anglo-Saxons thus yielded to the Normans the government of England.

In these days the common people were called churls, or anything else that happened to occur to the irritable and quick-witted nobility. The rich lived in great magnificence, with rushes on the floor, which were changed every few weeks. Beautiful tapestry—similar to the rag-carpet of America—adorned the walls and prevented ventilation.

Glass had been successfully made in France and introduced into England. A pane of glass indicated the abode of wealth, and a churl cleaning the window with alcohol by breathing heavily upon it, was a sign that Sir Reginald de Pamp, the pampered child of fortune, dwelt there.

To twang the lyre from time to time, or knock a few mellow plunks out of the harp, was regarded with much favor by the Anglo-Saxons, who were much given to feasting and merriment. In those pioneer times the "small and early" had not yet been introduced, but "the drunk and disorderly" was regarded with much favor.

Free coinage was now discussed, and mints established. Wool was the principal export, and fine cloths were taken in exchange from the Continent. Women spun for their own households, and the term spinster was introduced.

The monasteries carefully concealed everything in the way of education, and even the nobility could not have stood a civil service examination.

The clergy were skilled in music, painting, and sculpture, and loved to paint on china, or do sign-work and carriage painting for the nobility. St. Dunstan was quite an artist, and painted portraits which even now remind one strangely of human beings.

[Illustration: ST. DUNSTAN WAS NOTED FOR THIS KIND OF THING.]

Edgar Atheling, the legal successor of Harold, saw at a glance that William the Conqueror had come to stay, and so he yielded to the Norman, as shown in the accompanying steel engraving copied from a piece of tapestry now in possession of the author, and which descended to him, through no fault of his own, from the Normans, who for years ruled England with great skill, and from whose loins he sprang.

[Illustration: EDGAR ATHELING AND THE NOBILITY OFFER SUBMISSION TO WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR.]

William was crowned on Christmas Day at Westminster Abbey as the new sovereign. It was more difficult to change a sovereign in those days than at present, but that is neither here nor there.

The people were so glad over the coronation that they overdid it, and their ghoulish glee alarmed the regular Norman army, the impression getting out that the Anglo-Saxons were rebellious, when as a matter of fact they were merely exhilarated, having tanked too often with the tankard.

William the Conqueror now disarmed the city of London, and tipping a number of the nobles, got them to wait on him. He rewarded his Norman followers, however, with the contraband estates of the conquered, and thus kept up his conking for years after peace had been declared.

But the people did not forget that they were there first, and so, while William was in Normandy, in the year 1067 A.D., hostilities broke out. People who had been foreclosed and ejected from their lands united to shoot the Norman usurper, and it was not uncommon for a Norman, while busy usurping, to receive an arrow in some vital place, and have to give up sedentary pursuits, perhaps, for weeks afterwards.

[Illustration: SAXONS INTRODUCING THE YOKE IN SCOTLAND.]

In 1068 A.D., Edgar Atheling, Sweyn of Denmark, Malcolm of Scotland, and the sons of Harold banded together to drive out the Norman. Malcolm was a brave man, and had, it is said, captured so many Anglo-Saxons and brought them back to Scotland, that they had a very refining influence on that country, introducing the study of the yoke among other things with moderate success.

[Illustration: WILLIAM WAS FOND OF HUNTING.]

William hastily returned from Normandy, and made short work of the rebellion. The following year another outbreak occurring in Northumberland, William mischievously laid waste sixty miles of fertile country, and wilfully slaughtered one hundred thousand people,—men, women, and children. And yet we have among us those who point with pride to their Norman lineage when they ought to be at work supporting their families.

In 1070 the Archbishop of Canterbury was degraded from his position, and a Milanese monk on his Milan knees succeeded him. The Saxons became serfs, and the Normans used the school tax to build large, repulsive castles in which to woo the handcuffed Anglo-Saxon maiden at their leisure. An Anglo-Saxon maiden without a rope ladder in the pocket of her basque was a rare sight. Many very thrilling stories are written of those days, and bring a good price.

William was passionately fond of hunting, and the penalty for killing a deer or boar without authority was greater than for killing a human being out of season.

In order to erect a new forest, he devastated thirty miles of farming country, and drove the people, homeless and foodless, to the swamps. He also introduced the curfew, which he had rung in the evening for his subjects in order to remind them that it was time to put out the lights, as well as the cat, and retire. This badge of servitude caused great annoyance among the people, who often wished to sit up and visit, or pass the tankard about and bid dull care begone.

William, however, was not entirely happy. While reigning, his children grew up without proper training. Robert, his son, unhorsed the old gentleman at one time, and would have killed him anonymously, each wearing at the time a galvanized iron dinner-pail over his features, but just at the fatal moment Robert heard his father's well-known breath asserting itself, and withheld his hand.

William's death was one of the most attractive features of his reign. It resulted from an injury received during an invasion of France.

Philip, the king of that country, had said something derogatory regarding William, so the latter, having business in France, decided to take his army with him and give his soldiers an outing. William captured the city of Mantes, and laid it in ashes at his feet. These ashes were still hot in places when the great conqueror rode through them, and his horse becoming restive, threw His Royal Altitoodleum on the pommel of his saddle, by reason of which he received a mortal hurt, and a few weeks later he died, filled with remorse and other stimulants, regretting his past life in such unmeasured terms that he could be heard all over the place.

[Illustration: DEMISE OF WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR.]

The "feudal system" was now fully established in England, and lands descended from father to son, and were divided up among the dependants on condition of the performance of vassalage. In this way the common people were cheerily permitted the use of what atmosphere they needed for breathing purposes, on their solemn promise to return it, and at the close of life, if they had succeeded in winning the royal favor, they might contribute with their humble remains to the fertility of the royal vegetable garden.

[Illustration: THE FEUDAL SYSTEM WAS NOW FULLY ESTABLISHED.]

CHAPTER IX.

THE FEUDAL SYSTEM: SUCCESSFUL INAUGURATION OF HOMOGENEAL METHODS FOR RESTRICTING INCOMPATIBLE DEMAGOGUES

At this time, under the reign of William, a year previous to his death, an inventory was taken of the real estate and personal property contained in the several counties of England; and this "Domesday-book," as it was called, formed the basis for subsequent taxation, etc. There were then three hundred thousand families in England. The book had a limited circulation, owing to the fact that it was made by hand; but in 1783 it was printed.

William II., surnamed "Rufus the Red," the auburn-haired son of the king, took possession of everything—especially the treasure—before his father was fully deceased, and by fair promises solidified the left wing of the royal party, compelling the disaffected Norman barons to fly to France.

William II. and Robert his brother came to blows over a small rebellion organized by the latter, but Robert yielded at last, and joined William with a view to making it hot for Henry, who, being a younger brother, objected to wearing the king's cast-off reigning clothes. He was at last forced to submit, however, and the three brothers gayly attacked Malcolm, the Scotch malecontent, who was compelled to yield, and thus Cumberland became English ground. This was in 1091.

[Illustration: WILLIAM II. TAKES POSSESSION OF THE ROYAL TRUNK AND SECURES THE CROWN.]

In 1096 the Crusade was creating much talk, and Robert, who had expressed a desire to lead a totally different life, determined to go if money could be raised. Therefore William proceeded to levy on everything that could be realized upon, such as gold and silver communion services and other bric-à-brac, and free coinage was then first inaugurated. The king became so greedy that on the death of the Archbishop of Canterbury he made himself ex-officio archbishop, so that he might handle the offerings and coin the plate. When William was ill he sent for Father Anselm, but when he got well he took back all his sweet promises, in every way reminding one of the justly celebrated policy pursued by His Sulphureous Highness the Devil.

The capture of Jerusalem by the Crusaders very naturally attracted the attention of other ambitious princes who wished also to capture it, and William, Prince of Guienne, mortgaged his principality to England that he might raise money to do this; but when about to embark for the purpose of taking possession of this property, William II., the royal note-shaver, while hunting, was shot accidentally by a companion, or assassinated, it is not yet known which, and when found by a passing charcoal-burner was in a dead state. He was buried in 1100, at Winchester.

[Illustration: RUFUS FOUND DEAD IN THE FOREST BY A POOR CHARCOAL-BURNER.]

Rufus had no trouble in securing the public approval of his death. He was the third of his race to perish in the New Forest, the scene of the Conqueror's cruelty to his people. He was a thick-set man with a red face, a debauchee of the deepest dye, mean in money matters, and as full of rum and mendacity as Sitting Bull, the former Regent of the Sioux Nation. He died at the age of forty-three years, having reigned and cut up in a shameful manner for thirteen years.

Robert having gone to the Holy Land, Henry I. was crowned at Westminster. He was educated to a higher degree than William, and knew the multiplication table up to seven times seven, but he was highly immoral, and an armed chaperon stood between him and common decency.

He also made rapid strides as a liar, and even his own grocer would not trust him. He successfully fainted when he heard of his son's death, 1120 A.D.

His reign closed in 1135, when Stephen, a grandson of the Conqueror, with the aid of a shoe-horn assumed the crown of England, and, placing a large damp towel in it, proceeded to reign. He began at once to swap patronage for kind words, and every noble was as ignoble as a phenomenal thirst and unbridled lust could make him. Every farm had a stone jail on it, in charge of a noble jailer. Feudal castles, full of malaria and surrounded by insanitary moats and poor plumbing, echoed the cry of the captive and the bacchanalian song of the noble. The country was made desolate by duly authorized robbers, who, under the Crusaders' standard, prevented the maturity of the spring chicken and hushed the still, small voice of the roast pig in death.

[Illustration: HENRY FAINTED WHEN HE HEARD THE SAD NEWS.]

William the Conqueror was not only remembered bitterly in the broken hearts of his people, but in history his name will stand out forever because of his strange and grotesque designs on posterity.

In 1141 Stephen was made prisoner, and for five years he was not restored to his kingdom. In the mean time, Matilda, the widow of Henry I., encouraged by the prelates, landed in England to lay claim to the throne, and after a great deal of ill feeling and much needed assassination, her son Henry, who had become quite a large property-owner in France, invaded England, and finally succeeded in obtaining recognition as the rightful successor of Stephen. Stephen died in 1153, and Henry became king.

[Illustration: MATILDA LANDING IN ENGLAND.]

The Feudal System, which obtained in England for four hundred years, was a good one for military purposes, for the king on short notice might raise an army by calling on the barons, who levied on their vassals, and they in turn levied on their dependants.

A feudal castle was generally built in the Norman style of architecture. It had a "donjon," or keep, which was generally occupied by the baron as a bar-room, feed-trough, and cooler between fights. It was built of stone, and was lighted by means of crevices through the wall by day, and by means of a saucer of tallow and a string or rush which burned during the night and served mainly to show how dark it was. There was a front yard or fighting-place around this, surrounded by a high wall, and this again by a moat. There was an inner court back of the castle, into which the baron could go for thinking. A chapel was connected with the institution, and this was the place to which he retired for the purpose of putting arnica on his conscience.

Underneath the castle was a large dungeon, where people who differed with the baron had a studio. Sometimes they did not get out at all, but died there in their sins, while the baron had all the light of gospel and chapel privileges up-stairs.

The historian says that at that time the most numerous class in England were the "villains." This need not surprise us, when we remember that it was as much as a man's life was worth to be anything else.

There were also twenty-five thousand serfs. A serf was required to be at hand night or day when the baron needed some one to kick. He was generally attached to the realty, like a hornet's nest, but not necessary to it.

In the following chapter knighthood and the early hardware trade will be touched upon.

[Illustration: "IN HOC SIGNO VINCES."]

CHAPTER X.

THE AGE OF CHIVALRY: LIGHT DISSERTATION ON THE KNIGHTS-ERRANT, MAIDS, FOOLS, PRELATES, AND OTHER NOTORIOUS CHARACTERS OF THAT PERIOD

The age of chivalry, which yielded such good material to the poet and romancer, was no doubt essential to the growth of civilization, but it must have been an unhappy period for legitimate business. How could trade, commerce, or even the professions, arts, or sciences, flourish while the entire population spread itself over the bleaching-boards, day after day, to watch the process of "jousting," while the corn was "in the grass," and everybody's notes went to protest?

Then came the days of knight-errantry, when parties in malleable-iron clothing and shirts of mail—which were worn without change—rode up and down the country seeking for maids in distress. A pretty maid in those days who lived on the main road could put on her riding-habit, go to the window up-stairs, shed a tear, wave her kerchief in the air, and in half an hour have the front lawn full of knights-errant tramping over the peony beds and castor-oil plants.

[Illustration: A PRETTY MAID IN THOSE DAYS.]

In this way a new rescuer from day to day during the "errant" season might be expected. Scarcely would the fair maid reach her destination and get her wraps hung up, when a rattle of gravel on the window would attract her attention, and outside she would see, with swelling heart, another knight-errant, who crooked his Russia-iron elbow and murmured, "Miss, may I have the pleasure of this escape with you?"

"But I do not recognize you, sir," she would straightway make reply; and well she might, for, with his steel-shod countenance and corrugated-iron clothes, he was generally so thoroughly incog. that his crest, on a new shield freshly painted and grained and bearing a motto, was his only introduction. Imagine a sweet girl, who for years had been under the eagle eye of a middle-weight chaperon, suddenly espying in the moonlight a disguised man under the window on horseback, in the act of asking her to join him for a few weeks at his shooting-box in the swamp. Then, if you please, imagine her asking for his card, whereupon he exposes the side of his new tin shield, on which is painted in large Old English letters a Latin motto meaning, "It is the early bird that catches the worm," with bird rampant, worm couchant on a field uncultivated.

Then, seating herself behind the knight, she must escape for days, and even weeks,—one escape seeming to call for another, as it were. Thus, however, the expense of a wedding was saved, and the knight with the biggest chest measurement generally got the heiress with the copper-colored hair.

[Illustration: CREST OF A POPULAR KNIGHT.]

He wore a crest on his helmet adorned with German favors given him by lady admirers, so that the crest of a popular young knight often looked like a slump at the Bon Marché.

[Illustration: THE "VIGIL OF ARMS."]

The most peculiar condition required for entry into knighthood was the "vigil of arms," which consisted in keeping a long silent watch in some gloomy spot—a haunted one preferred—over the arms he was about to assume. The illustration representing this subject is without doubt one of the best of the kind extant, and even in the present age of the gold-cure is suggestive of a night-errant of to-day.