Alfgar the Dane or the Second Chronicle of Aescendune<br />A Tale of the Days of Edmund Ironside by A. D. Crake (books like harry potter .TXT) 📕

we alone in the council asserted your complete innocence."

"I thank you; you have taken away the bitterness of death--and Ethelgiva?"

"Would die for her conviction of your truth."

"Thank God!" he said fervently, his face brightening at once; tears, indeed, rolled down his cheeks, but they seemed rather of gratitude than grief.

"We wanted to see, my son, whether you could aid us in discovering the real assassin--whether you can in any way account for his possession of your dagger, for your door being still, as you asserted, fast inside."

"I knew it made against me, but I couldn't lie, it was fast inside."

"Then how could the foe have gained admittance?"

"I could not discover that, but I think there must have been some secret door. Edric had perhaps lived in the Place before; he once resided in Oxenford."

"He did, and in that very house," said Herstan. "I was here at the time when he assassinated Sigeferth and Morcar in the banqueting hall."

"That may supply a clue, I know no other possible one."

"But how, then, did he get your dagger?"

"I think our wine was drugged the night before, or I should not have slept so soundly. I remember with what difficulty I seemed to throw off a kind of nightmare which oppressed me, and to come to myself."

"Then I will get a carpenter and search the wainscoting; and I will see whether I can learn anything about the wine," said Elfwyn.

"Do so cautiously, my father, very cautiously, for if Edric suspects you are on his track, he will plot against your life too, and Ethelgiva will have no protector.

"Oh, this was to have been my wedding day, my wedding day!" and he clasped his hands in agony; then the thought of his master-- his slain lord--returned, and he cried, "O Edmund! my master, my dear master, so good, so gentle, yet so brave; who else could slay him? what fiend else than Edric, the murderer Edric? That they should think I, or any one else than Edric, could have done such a deed, such an evil deed!"

Elfwyn and Herstan both left the scene, the more convinced of Alfgar's innocence, but yet the more puzzled to convey their impression to others.

Meanwhile the arrangements for Edmund's burial were made. It was decided, according to the wish he had more than once expressed, that he should rest beneath the shadow of a shrine he had loved well; and on the second day after his death the mournful procession left Oxenford for Glastonbury, followed by the tears and prayers of the citizens. There, after a long and toilsome winter journey, the funeral cortege arrived, and was joined by his wife Elgitha, his sons Edmund and Edward. They laid him to rest by the side of his grandfather, Edgar "the Magnanimous," whose days of peace and prosperity all England loved to remember. There, amidst the people of Wessex who had rallied so often to his war cry, all that was mortal of the Ironside reposed.

Meanwhile the crafty Edric, who excused himself from attendance on the solemnities, tarried at Oxenford, and with him tarried also Elfwyn, Herstan, and the other friends of the unfortunate prisoner, to secure, as they were able, that justice should be rendered him.

A special court of justice was speedily organised, wherein Edric presided as ealdorman of Mercia, for Oxenford properly was a Mercian city, although, lying on the debateable land, it was frequently claimed by Wessex as the border land changed its boundaries.

The court was composed of wise and aged men, ealdormen, thanes, and burgesses had places, and the bishop of Dorchester sat by Edric as assessor.

The court was opened, and the vacant places in the room were occupied at once by the crowd who were fortunate enough to gain entrance. The general feeling was strong against the prisoner, the more so because he had been loved and trusted by Edmund, so that ingratitude added to the magnitude of his crime in their eyes.

But amongst those who stood nearest to the place he must occupy were his betrothed, her mother, Bertha, and young Hermann, who had already got into several quarrels through his fierce espousing of the cause of the accused.

He entered at last under a guard, calm and dignified, in spite of his suffering. He met the gaze of the multitude without flinching, and his general demeanour impressed many in his favour. Compurgators, or men to swear that they believed him innocent, a kind of evidence fully recognised by the Saxon law, were not wanting; but they consisted chiefly of his old companions in arms and his friends from Aescendune. In a lighter accusation, his innocence might have been established by this primitive mode of evidence, but the case was too serious; the accusation being one of the murder of a king.

The charge was duly read; and to the accusation he replied, "Not guilty!" with a fervour and firmness which caused men to look up.

The chamberlain was first examined.

"Were you present when the late king retired to rest?"

"I was."

"Who shared his chamber?"

"The prisoner slept in an antechamber."

"Was there a fastening to the outer door of the antechamber?"

"Yes; a strong bolt."

"Could it be opened from the exterior?"

"It could not."

"Was there any other entrance to the royal apartments?"

"None."

The dagger was produced, and Elfwyn was examined.

"Do you recognise the weapon?"

"I do; it was Alfgar's."

"How do you recognise it?"

"It was richly carved about the handle. The letter E is stamped upon it, with a crown."

"Whence did the prisoner obtain it?"

"The king gave it him." (Sensation.)

"Did you see it on the night of the murder?"

"I did."

"Under what circumstances?"

"The accused held it dripping with blood in his hands, and said he found it sticking in the corpse."

Other witnesses were also called to prove these facts.

The accused was then heard in his own defence, and he repeated with great simplicity and candour the circumstances so well known to our readers; and concluded:

"I can say no more. None who knew the love he bore me, and that I bore him, could suspect me."

The bishop here spoke.

"It is my office," said he, "by the canons of King Athelstane, to assist secular judges in purging away accusations, therefore I will ask the accused a few questions."

"Had you any cause of suspicion against any other person-- anything to point out the doer of this evil deed?"

"All men loved him save one."

"And who was that one?"

"He sits to judge me."

"Nay," cried the bishop, "we all beheld the reconciliation in St. Frideswide's church."

"The king himself was warned not to trust to the reconciliation."

"By whom?"

"His brother sovereign."

"Canute?"

And here Edric perceptibly changed colour.

"Even so."

"Your proofs," said the bishop--"nay, my lord Edric, trust your reputation to the justice of God and the court."

"The messenger from Canute, who came here on the vigil of St. Andrew."

"Where is he?"

"He has returned to Canute," said Elfwyn.

"Aught else?"

"Only I would bid you remember that the ealdorman Edric sought in like manner reconciliation with Elfhelm of Shrewsbury, and all men know what followed."

Here Edric interrupted--"I do not sit here to be judged, but to judge. These accusations cannot be heard."

"There is a judgment seat above where you will not be able to make that plea," said the prisoner solemnly.

"Alfgar," said the bishop, "this counter-accusation cannot be received; have you aught else to urge?"

"None. I commit my cause to God."

The court retired.

The pause was long and painful. It afterwards transpired that the bishop pleaded in Alfgar's favour, while Herstan ably seconded him; but all was in vain. Edric's eloquence, and the strong circumstantial evidence against the prisoner, carried the day, and the ealdorman even proposed that execution should be speedy, "lest," he whispered, "Canute should interfere to screen his instrument."

It was a dangerous game, but he thought the services he had rendered the Danish cause enabled him to play it safely.

They returned. All men saw the verdict in their faces. Edric spoke with great solemnity.

"We find the prisoner guilty."

There was a dead pause.

"I appeal to the judgment of God. I demand the ordeal cf fire," said Alfgar {xix}.

"It cannot be denied," said the bishop, who had anticipated the appeal. "I myself will see to the preliminaries; and it may take place tomorrow morning in St. Frideswide's church."

Edric and his sympathisers would fain have denied the claim, but they could not resist the bishop, backed as he was by the popular voice, for the cry, "The ordeal! yes, the ordeal!" was taken up at once by the populace.

While he was hesitating, his brother Goda appeared amongst the crowd.

"Canute," he whispered, "draws nigh Oxenford. He has heard what is going on."

Edric trembled, but soon recovered himself. However, it was not a time to deny justice.

The following morning the church of St. Frideswide was crowded at the early mass. All the friends of the accused were there, and Edric with all his party. The holy service was about to commence, when the crowd at the church door moved aside; a passage was speedily made though the crowd, and three or four ecclesiastics, one habited as a royal chaplain, escorted a stranger, to whom all paid instinctive reverence, yet hardly knowing why, for he was only clad in the ordinary robes worn by noblemen amongst the English.

He was led to the choir, and placed where Edmund had knelt by Edric's side some days previously. Edric saw him, and exchanged glances, after which the ealdorman looked uneasy.

On the other side knelt the prisoner, with Elfwyn and Herstan on either side, and his colour heightened. Well it might. He had last seen that figure when he fought by Edmund's side at Penn. But it was not that meeting. Words spoken ten years before came back to him with marvellous force:

"Tell me what is the secret of this Christianity?"

And Alfgar knew that Canute had found that secret at last.

"Why was he here? Did he come as his friend or foe?"

The mass was over. Alfgar had followed the whole ceremony with rapt attention, for it was in God alone that he could now put his confidence.

Then a furnace was placed in the church, containing nine bars of iron of red heat, and the fire was blown till the bars, quivering with heat, glittered in the sight. The bishop approached, and said the appointed prayers, that God would detect the innocence or guilt of the prisoner by their means, and reveal the truth known only to Him.

Then a lane was formed up the church, and the friends of Alfgar kept one side, while those of Edric kept the other, after which the bars of iron were laid down about two feet apart.

The bishop approached.

"Are ye all fasting with prayer?" he inquired.

The friends of accused and accuser from either side replied:

"We are."

"Humble yourselves, and pray to God to reveal the truth," said he, and sprinkled them with holy water, after which the book of the Gospels was passed all round to be kissed.

"Pray that God may reveal the truth," said he again.

"We do so pray."

Then Alfgar, who felt full of divine confidence, took his place at the end nearest the porch. He was given the book of the Gospels.

"Swear thy innocence upon the holy Gospels," said the bishop.

"I do swear that I am innocent of the crime they lay to my charge;" and he kissed the book; then holy water was sprinkled upon his feet, and given him to drink.

The decisive moment approached. He looked round, he saw Ethelgiva, her eyes full of tears, her lips moving in prayer.

All fear departed from him.

The bishop blindfolded him.

"My son, trust in God, and in His strength go forward," he whispered.

Alfgar could see nought now. A line of red string was stretched from the bishop's hand to that of a priest at the other extremity, to guide him. Canute advanced, took the end from the priest's hand and held it.

Alfgar started one step. The first iron is passed safely--two, the second cleared. The excitement is intense. Three cleared-- four, five. Ah, he nears the sixth! No, he misses it!--seven, eight--one more--nine! SAVED BY GOD!

Ethelgiva fainted. A deep sound of applause, not even suppressed by the character of the place. Elfwyn received his adopted son in his arms:

"Saved, saved!" he cried.

"Thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory!" replied Alfgar.

When the first congratulations were over, and Alfgar had somewhat recovered from the excitement of the shock, and from the congratulations which were heaped upon him upon all sides, he was told that Canute awaited him in the audience chamber, and at once repaired to the presence of his future king with less emotion than may be imagined; for he was worn out by sensation, and becoming callous to impressions.

He was formally introduced by the officer in waiting, and the king at once dismissed that functionary.

"Alfgar, son of Anlaf, we have met before," observed the monarch.

"We have, my lord."

"I did not refer to later occasions, when we have met on the battlefield, but to a far earlier one. Need I recall