Ivanhoe - Walter Scott (e ink ebook reader txt) 📗
- Author: Walter Scott
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which cultivation is richly blended with woodland, and on a
mount, ascending from the river, well defended by walls and
ditches, rises this ancient edifice, which, as its Saxon name
implies, was, previous to the Conquest, a royal residence of the
kings of England. The outer walls have probably been added by the
Normans, but the inner keep bears token of very great antiquity.
It is situated on a mount at one angle of the inner court, and
forms a complete circle of perhaps twenty-five feet in diameter.
The wall is of immense thickness, and is propped or defended by
six huge external buttresses which project from the circle, and
rise up against the sides of the tower as if to strengthen or to
support it. These massive buttresses are solid when they arise
from the foundation, and a good way higher up; but are hollowed
out towards the top, and terminate in a sort of turrets
communicating with the interior of the keep itself. The distant
appearance of this huge building, with these singular
accompaniments, is as interesting to the lovers of the
picturesque, as the interior of the castle is to the eager
antiquary, whose imagination it carries back to the days of the
Heptarchy. A barrow, in the vicinity of the castle, is pointed
out as the tomb of the memorable Hengist; and various monuments,
of great antiquity and curiosity, are shown in the neighbouring
churchyard.*
Note J. Castle of Coningsburgh.When Coeur-de-Lion and his retinue approached this rude yet
stately building, it was not, as at present, surrounded by
external fortifications. The Saxon architect had exhausted his
art in rendering the main keep defensible, and there was no other
circumvallation than a rude barrier of palisades.
A huge black banner, which floated from the top of the tower,
announced that the obsequies of the late owner were still in the
act of being solemnized. It bore no emblem of the deceased’s
birth or quality, for armorial bearings were then a novelty among
the Norman chivalry themselves and, were totally unknown to the
Saxons. But above the gate was another banner, on which the
figure of a white horse, rudely painted, indicated the nation and
rank of the deceased, by the well-known symbol of Hengist and his
Saxon warriors.
All around the castle was a scene of busy commotion; for such
funeral banquets were times of general and profuse hospitality,
which not only every one who could claim the most distant
connexion with the deceased, but all passengers whatsoever, were
invited to partake. The wealth and consequence of the deceased
Athelstane, occasioned this custom to be observed in the fullest
extent.
Numerous parties, therefore, were seen ascending and descending
the hill on which the castle was situated; and when the King and
his attendants entered the open and unguarded gates of the
external barrier, the space within presented a scene not easily
reconciled with the cause of the assemblage. In one place cooks
were toiling to roast huge oxen, and fat sheep; in another,
hogsheads of ale were set abroach, to be drained at the freedom
of all comers. Groups of every description were to be seen
devouring the food and swallowing the liquor thus abandoned to
their discretion. The naked Saxon serf was drowning the sense
of his half-year’s hunger and thirst, in one day of gluttony and
drunkenness---the more pampered burgess and guild-brother was
eating his morsel with gust, or curiously criticising the
quantity of the malt and the skill of the brewer. Some few of
the poorer Norman gentry might also be seen, distinguished by
their shaven chins and short cloaks, and not less so by their
keeping together, and looking with great scorn on the whole
solemnity, even while condescending to avail themselves of the
good cheer which was so liberally supplied.
Mendicants were of course assembled by the score, together with
strolling soldiers returned from Palestine, (according to their
own account at least,) pedlars were displaying their wares,
travelling mechanics were enquiring after employment, and
wandering palmers, hedge-priests, Saxon minstrels, and Welsh
bards, were muttering prayers, and extracting mistuned dirges
from their harps, crowds, and rotes.*
The crowth, or crowd, was a species of violin. The rote a sort of guitar, or rather hurdy-gurdy, the strings of which were managed by a wheel, from which the instrument took its name.One sent forth the praises of Athelstane in a doleful panegyric;
another, in a Saxon genealogical poem, rehearsed the uncouth and
harsh names of his noble ancestry. Jesters and jugglers were not
awanting, nor was the occasion of the assembly supposed to render
the exercise of their profession indecorous or improper. Indeed
the ideas of the Saxons on these occasions were as natural as
they were rude. If sorrow was thirsty, there was drink---if
hungry, there was food---if it sunk down upon and saddened the
heart, here were the means supplied of mirth, or at least of
amusement. Nor did the assistants scorn to avail themselves of
those means of consolation, although, every now and then, as if
suddenly recollecting the cause which had brought them together,
the men groaned in unison, while the females, of whom many were
present, raised up their voices and shrieked for very woe.
Such was the scene in the castle-yard at Coningsburgh when it was
entered by Richard and his followers. The seneschal or steward
deigned not to take notice of the groups of inferior guests who
were perpetually entering and withdrawing, unless so far as was
necessary to preserve order; nevertheless he was struck by the
good mien of the Monarch and Ivanhoe, more especially as he
imagined the features of the latter were familiar to him.
Besides, the approach of two knights, for such their dress
bespoke them, was a rare event at a Saxon solemnity, and could
not but be regarded as a sort of honour to the deceased and his
family. And in his sable dress, and holding in his hand his
white wand of office, this important personage made way through
the miscellaneous assemblage of guests, thus conducting Richard
and Ivanhoe to the entrance of the tower. Gurth and Wamba
speedily found acquaintances in the court-yard, nor presumed to
intrude themselves any farther until their presence should be
required.
CHAPTER XLII
I found them winding of Marcello’s corpse.
And there was such a solemn melody,
‘Twixt doleful songs, tears, and sad elegies,---
Such as old grandames, watching by the dead,
Are wont to outwear the night with.
Old Play
The mode of entering the great tower of Coningsburgh Castle is
very peculiar, and partakes of the rude simplicity of the early
times in which it was erected. A flight of steps, so deep and
narrow as to be almost precipitous, leads up to a low portal in
the south side of the tower, by which the adventurous antiquary
may still, or at least could a few years since, gain access to a
small stair within the thickness of the main wall of the tower,
which leads up to the third story of the building,---the two
lower being dungeons or vaults, which neither receive air nor
light, save by a square hole in the third story, with which they
seem to have communicated by a ladder. The access to the upper
apartments in the tower which consist in all of four stories, is
given by stairs which are carried up through the external
buttresses.
By this difficult and complicated entrance, the good King
Richard, followed by his faithful Ivanhoe, was ushered into the
round apartment which occupies the whole of the third story from
the ground. Wilfred, by the difficulties of the ascent, gained
time to muffle his face in his mantle, as it had been held
expedient that he should not present himself to his father until
the King should give him the signal.
There were assembled in this apartment, around a large oaken
table, about a dozen of the most distinguished representatives of
the Saxon families in the adjacent counties. They were all old,
or, at least, elderly men; for the younger race, to the great
displeasure of the seniors, had, like Ivanhoe, broken down many
of the barriers which separated for half a century the Norman
victors from the vanquished Saxons. The downcast and sorrowful
looks of these venerable men, their silence and their mournful
posture, formed a strong contrast to the levity of the revellers
on the outside of the castle. Their grey locks and long full
beards, together with their antique tunics and loose black
mantles, suited well with the singular and rude apartment in
which they were seated, and gave the appearance of a band of
ancient worshippers of Woden, recalled to life to mourn over the
decay of their national glory.
Cedric, seated in equal rank among his countrymen, seemed yet, by
common consent, to act as chief of the assembly. Upon the
entrance of Richard (only known to him as the valorous Knight of
the Fetterlock) he arose gravely, and gave him welcome by the
ordinary salutation, “Waes hael”, raising at the same time a
goblet to his head. The King, no stranger to the customs of his
English subjects, returned the greeting with the appropriate
words, “Drinc hael”, and partook of a cup which was handed to him
by the sewer. The same courtesy was offered to Ivanhoe, who
pledged his father in silence, supplying the usual speech by an
inclination of his head, lest his voice should have been
recognised.
When this introductory ceremony was performed, Cedric arose, and,
extending his hand to Richard, conducted him into a small and
very rude chapel, which was excavated, as it were, out of one of
the external buttresses. As there was no opening, saving a
little narrow loop-hole, the place would have been nearly quite
dark but for two flambeaux or torches, which showed, by a red and
smoky light, the arched roof and naked walls, the rude altar of
stone, and the crucifix of the same material.
Before this altar was placed a bier, and on each side of this
bier kneeled three priests, who told their beads, and muttered
their prayers, with the greatest signs of external devotion. For
this service a splendid “soul-scat” was paid to the convent of
Saint Edmund’s by the mother of the deceased; and, that it might
be fully deserved, the whole brethren, saving the lame Sacristan,
had transferred themselves to Coningsburgh, where, while six of
their number were constantly on guard in the performance of
divine rites by the bier of Athelstane, the others failed not to
take their share of the refreshments and amusements which went on
at the castle. In maintaining this pious watch and ward, the
good monks were particularly careful not to interrupt their hymns
for an instant, lest Zernebock, the ancient Saxon Apollyon,
should lay his clutches on the departed Athelstane. Nor were
they less careful to prevent any unhallowed layman from touching
the pall, which, having been that used at the funeral of Saint
Edmund, was liable to be desecrated, if handled by the profane.
If, in truth, these attentions could be of any use to the
deceased, he had some right to expect them at the hands of the
brethren of Saint Edmund’s, since, besides a hundred mancuses of
gold paid down as the soul-ransom, the mother of Athelstane had
announced her intention of endowing that foundation with the
better part of the lands of the deceased, in order to maintain
perpetual prayers for his soul, and that of her departed husband.
Richard and Wilfred followed the Saxon Cedric into the apartment
of death, where, as their guide pointed with solemn air to the
untimely bier of Athelstane, they followed his example in
devoutly crossing themselves, and muttering a brief prayer for
the weal of the departed soul.
This act of pious charity performed, Cedric again motioned them
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