1 353.] 551 THE STORY OF CORFE CASTLE.* HOW many of those who travel for pleasure see in the ivymantled ruin that crowns some lofty hill, or reposes, beautiful in its decay, in the lonely valley, a picturesque addition to the landscape, and nothing more. They gaze, admire, and pass on. With what different eyes does the acute observer view the scene. Enjoying all the loveliness that charms the common herd of tourists, the mouldering battlements, on which the wall-flower is now the only sentinel, are restored on the retina of his imagination. Renascuntur quæ jam cecidere. The castle stands again in its strength. Stalwart warriors man the wall, where Seething pitch and molten lead, Reek like a witch's cauldron red; and the part that it once played in the history of the country is vividly called up. If the walls of our palaces, castles, and abbeys By many a foul and midnight murder fed, had language, what revelations they one has his hero and his bête crite. It was a saying of John Murray the Great that every man had a book in him. Every old building has a book in it. Every old palace, castle, and abbey has a history in it. Now, there are few old families in this kingdom who do not hold some noble relic of the masonry of ancient times, and who do not, moreover, possess in their archives valuable records of the scenes once enacted on that decaying stage. It is from the concentrated rays of historical monographs like that now before us that the clearest light may be thrown on many a dark passage ; and we earnestly hope that not a few of our landed aristocracy will follow the edifying example of Mr. Bankes His The early condition of Corfe Castle looms indistinctly through the mists of antiquity; but there is reason for concluding that a castle existed at Corfe in the reign of Alfred. There is no doubt that this great king and reformer founded the abbey of Shaftesbury. daughter, Ethelgiva, was the first abbess, and to her and her successors high rights and privileges were granted connected with the castle, which, in Alfred's time, consisted probably of only a single strong tower on the hill, watching over Wareham, well known to the Saxons for its resistance to the depredations of the Danes. In the year of grace 875, Alfred made his agreement with those pagans, assigning to them a large portion of the northern provinces of the kingdom, flattering himself with the prospect of some repose in the south: but the Punic and Danish faith seem to have been about coequal; and in the spring of that very year Halfden the Dane, with a considerable force, surprised Wareham Castle, then the strongest place in all Wessex. The honest English were no match for such buccaneering enemies. They considered the Danish irruptions as a regular war, wherein the whole invading nation was concerned. Accord ingly they imagined that a treaty with one band or party was obligatory on all the rest. But the Danes proceeded on a totally different principle. They entered, with the consent of their kings, into private associations to man * The Story of Corfe Castle, and of many who have lived there. Hon. George Bankes, M.P. London: John Murray, 1853. VOL. XLVIII. NO. CCLXXXVII. out By the Right 0 0 fleets, and go shares in what booty they could get in England and other countries. For this reason the several bands were independent of one another, each thinking himself bound by no other treaty but what they entered into themselves. Alfred had made an agreement with Hubba, but Halfden did not look upon himself as included in it. However, the English, considering the surprise of Wareham as a real treachery, called heaven and earth to witness the violation of the treaty. Alfred, finding it was in vain to conclude treaties with such perfidious people, resolved to take more effectual means to secure himself from their deceits. To this purpose he convened a general assembly, and in a pathetic speech plainly showed them that they had nothing to trust to but their valour and courage, to deliver them from their miseries; that upon so urgent an occasion there was a necessity of venturing their lives in defence of their country, and of sacrificing part of their estates to preserve the rest; in fine, that a generous resolution was the only means of averting calamities which would come in turn to every man's hearth. These remonstrances having produced the effect he expected, an army was levied, with which he engaged the enemy seven times in one campaign. Fortune was not equally favourable to him in all these engagements, but the king succeeded in rendering their resi dence at Wareham so little commodious to them, that in the year 877 the army of Pagans quitted Wareham, partly on horseback and partly by water. The naval portion proceeded no further than Swanage; they were then attacked by ships provided by Alfred, and a furious storm coming on during the engagement, one hundred and twenty of their ships were driven on the rocks off Peveril Point, and the portion of the army contained in them was entirely destroyed. The other portion of the ariny was pursued by Alfred as far as Exeter. Weakened as they were, terms of accommodation were readily acceded to by them, and this band of depredators gave hostages that they would depart the kingdom. To effect a security against their return at some future time, was the object of a fortress at Corfe (Corffe's Gate it was then called), a break in the lofty range of the Purbeck hills, occurring at this spot, through which two small streams or rivers pursue their course to the sea, which is not far distant. In the next century, the magnificent Edgar greatly extended and embellished the castle. He employed Italian workmen to instruct and aid the native artisans. The design and perfection of the masonry in portions of the structure give evidence of their cunning. Death struck Edgar in the flower of his age. Before he had completed his thirty-third year, he went where king and artisan must one day go; and his queen took possession of this princely residence, which her royal husband had bequeathed to her as a dowry mansion, and on which he had bestowed so much cost and care for her sake, that in it she might plot and accomplish the murder of his beloved son Edward. The injusta noverca has passed into a too true proverb; and, verily, Elfrida topped her part. In the month of March, in the year 978, this unfortunate prince was hunting in a large wood near Wareham; towards evening, when the chase was ended, recollecting that his brother was living hard by, he resolved to make a visit at the castle, where he resided with his royal mother. The attendants of the king had been dispersed in the chace; he was alone, and Elfrida having notice of this favourable opportunity, came forth in a most affable and friendly manner, inviting him to alight from his horse. This he declined, and remained at the gate, expressing his desire to see his brother. The next step in this tragedy brings home to us another proverb touching the cup and the lip. The queen then called for wine, which he had scarce put to his lips when one of her attendants, who had given the king the kiss of peace, stabbed him in the back. Some of the ancient chroniclers affirm, that Elfrida herself gave him both the kiss and the mortal wound whilst he was drinking. This, it must be acknowledged, is an oft told story, but Mr. Bankes has told it so well, and with such interesting accessories, in which we can trace the hands of the monks, that he must be permitted to finish it. In the last quoted paragraph we have another instance of the different versions of almost every remarkable event, and are reminded of the humiliation of Sir Walter Raleigh, who when he was writing his history,' heard in the morning we don't know how many varying accounts of the death of a man said to have been stabbed under his window during the previous night. To return, however, to our tale: 1 1853.] Murder of Edward the Martyr. Finding himself wounded the king rode away; but fainting with the loss of blood, his foot entangled in the stirrup, and he was dragged a considerable distance until the horse stopped of his own accord at a bridge which crosses the small river that flows at the foot of the hill on which this castle stands. The servant sent by Elfrida to know the issue of her treachery, found the murdered prince terribly defaced with the flints over which he had been dragged. The queen, to conceal the fact, ordered his body to be lodged in a house near, where it was covered with such mean clothes as were at hand. But murder will out: In this house was a woman who was born blind, and maintained by the queen's alms: at midnight she found her sight restored, and, to her great terror, the house filled with light. In the morning, the queen being informed of these circumstances, fearing a discovery, ordered her attendants to throw the body into a well. She then retired to a mansion of hers called Bere, ten miles distant. Her own son Ethelred expressing his grief for the inhuman act of his mother, she beat him so severely with some large wax tapers, for want of something else at hand, that he hated the sight of them ever afterwards. In the year following, the body of the murdered king was found: a pillar of fire descending from above illuminated the place where it was hid. Some devout people of Wareham brought it to the church of St. Mary, in that vill, and buried it in a plain manner. From this time the fountain where the body had lain yielded pure and sweet water, being called St. Edward's fountain, and infirm people were daily healed there. The news of these transactions being circulated, Alfer, Earl of Mercia, a faithful adherent to the deceased king, resolved to remove the body to a more suitable place of sepulture. Inviting all bishops, abbots, and nobility to assist him, he sent to Wolfrida, abbess of Wilton, to come with her nuns and perform the funeral rites with due solemnity. The noble company thus convened, being joined by a great number of the country people, came to Wareham, where the body, on being taken out of the tomb in which it had lain three years, was found as free from corrup tion as on the day when it was placed there it was carried on a bier to Shaf tesbury. Among the concourse of 553 to join this funeral procession, hoping thus to make some atonement for her crime; but her utmost efforts could not prevent the horse she rode from running backwards. She tried several horses, being an intrepid lady; but not one of them would advance a step; she then attempted to go on foot, but with no better success. The royal corpse was received at Shaftesbury by the Abbess, and entombed at the north part of the principal altar. Juvenile readers, ay, and some of maturer years, may be startled by the instrument of punishment which this strong-minded ungracious queen applied to her son's shoulders, and Mr. Bankes benevolently enlightens those who may wish to know what sort of wax candles these were: A drawing-room wax candle could hardly inflict such a blow as to induce the subject of correction to remember it during the remainder of his life, and a chapel candle, even the daring spirit of Elfrida would not have ventured to apply to such a purpose. We must remember that one of the noble institutions of King Alfred being then, and long afterwards, in force, the lapse of time was measured by the gradual consumption of wax candles, and Elfrida, in fact, corrected her son with the castle clocka weapon of no small weight and magnitude. And which, Mr. Bankes might have added, must on this occasion have struck to some purpose. These time-measuring wax candles were marked by circular lines of divers colours, which served as hour indications, and they were committed by Alfred to the care of the keepers of his chapel, whose office it was to put him in mind of the flight of time. We can fancy one of these officials addressing the care-worn king, wearied with nocturnal watching, in the words of Romeo: Night's candles are burnt out. For defence of these lights the king had recourse to horn scraped very thin, for glass was then a great rarity in these islands. And thus,' writes our author, the royal Alfred became inventor both of clocks and lanterns.' The monks gained largely by this step-mother's tragedy. The murdered Edward was canonized, and had his three festivals yearly-March * Spelman, 18, the day of his assassination; February 18, and June 20, the days on which his corpse was removed. with The murderess made her peace the Church, if not with Heaven, in the usual way, by the foundation and rich endowment of the nunneries of Amesbury in Wiltshire, and The lastWhorwel in Hampshire. named religious house she selected as her abode for her remaining years of penitence, austerity, and ghostly dread, took the habit of the order, and died, doubtless, in the odour of sanctity. This atrocious murder proved, in its consequences, to be the death-blow of the Anglo-Saxon dynasty, just after it had been raised by King Edgar to a high degree of renown, and he had obtained for himself the title of the Honour and Delight of the English nation. was also surnamed Edgar the Peaceable, being so well prepared for war, that neither his own subjects nor other He be punished. Hence the old sayings, "You're a peg too high,' or 'a peg too low.' Drinking vessels so marked are still extant. But the crown stained by the blood of young Edward had now devolved on a boy who was barely seven years old; and she who aspired to be the regent of his kingdom was red with murder, and blasted in character. Then ensued a period as calamitous as any that darkens the pages of our history. The Danes, who had given very little disturbance to the English for more than half a century, awoke from their lethargy; and stimulated by the cowardly and sluggish character of Ethelred, who proved when he grew up to manhood utterly unworthy of the high position to which his mother's crime had raised him, again regarded this tempting country When this with rapacious eye. nations dared to disturb the tranquillity faineant, who has justly earned the of his dominions. His attention to maritime affairs was the chief glory of his reign, and his fleet was at once so powerful and so well conducted, that it effectually secured the coasts from all aggression. He retained also a permanent military force, composed of Danes, nor does it appear that any jealousy arose from this circumstance amongst the masses of his Anglo-Saxon subjects. In the higher ranks it is true that some uneasiness was felt, for we are told by the ancient chronicles, that these martial Danes introduced as courtly fashions the habit of combing their hair once a day, washing themselves once a week, and frequently changing their vestments-manners which, though censured as effeminate by the AngloSaxon nobles, met with the decided approval of their wives and daughters, the gay beauties of King Edgar's court. These were not the only accomplishments which these Lurdanes introduced, for they were, as worthy William of Malmesbury tells us, the deepest of drinkers; and the English took so kindly to their tuition that King Edgar, by the advice of Dunstan of red-hot tongs memory, put down many alehouses, suffering only one to be in a village or small town, further ordaining that pins or nails should be fastened into the drinking cups and horns at stated distances, and that whosoever should drink beyond those marks should title of the Unready, was considering, as well as such an animal could consider, how to oppose the landing of the Danes, they were in the heart of the country, and the pettifogging prince could find no better mode of getting rid of them than by promised bribes, which he could not pay when the day of reckoning came. The consequence would have been patent to anybody but Ethelred. They broke into ungovernable fury, and all the old timber-built houses, monasteries, and churches were destroyed by the avenging torches of these fiery creditors. With the exception of Corfe Castle, and a few other places similarly fortified, all Dorsetshire fell under the Danish yoke. The Danegeld of the year 1002 capped the climax of disgrace, and the whole kingdom trembled before the Lord Danes, who received the shameful tribute. But though the people of this country may for a season be cowed, they are not so easily conquered. Irritated by the indignity of the tax, and their slavish position, Ethelred found them ready for any means by which they could shake off the degrading burthen. Cowards are always cruel, and Ethelred suggested a general massacre of all the Danes in England. With wonderful secresy of preparation this atrocity 1853.] Narrow Escape of King John. was carried into effect in a single day, and the sister of Sweyn, who had married an English noble, was included in the slaughter. Her brother speedily avenged her and his butchered countrymen, landed the next year in Cornwall, marched to Exeter, which he utterly destroyed, and spared none of its inhabitants. To fire and slaughter succeeded the famine of the year 1005, which, by those who could find wherewithal to satisfy their hunger, was hailed as a blessing, because, for a time at least, it expelled the Danes. But these marauders returned with returning prosperity, and in the year 1014, the wretched Ethelred having fled with his family to Normandy, Sweyn became King of England. But his rule was of the shortest, for he died in the same year, and fugitive Ethelred was, not without difficulty, persuaded to return and occupy his tottering throne for two miserable years, at the expiration of which time, and in 1016, he finished his ignoble reign. The brave Edmund, his eldest son, was immediately crowned in London, but the gallantry of his spirit and all the noble qualities of his nature were in vain. The curse of bloodshed seemed to rest upon his house; his reign did not continue for a year; he was murdered by the contrivance of a traitor, one of his family, before the close of the year 1017. Edmund left two sons, neither of whom succeeded to the throne. The line of his descendants, excluded first by Danish usurpation, and afterwards by the Normans, was restored to the crown after the lapse of six hundred years; but it was restored in that fated royal line, of whose destiny this ruined castle stands the monument-as it was the victim. During the reign of John, the castle again became a royal residence. Here the felon king deposited his treasure and regalia; here the jealous tyrant confined his state prisoners. When, in 1202, he took the pretty Arthur' at the castle of Mirbel, in Poitou, he captured many barons and above two hundred knights of Poitou and Guienne, who were in 555 arms with the ill-fated prince, his nephew. These, loaded with irons, he distributed among the Norman and English prisons, where many of them perished under cruel treatment, and no fewer than twentytwo of the noblest and bravest of them were starved to death in Corfe Castle.'* On the 15th of May, 1213, John resigned England and Ireland 'to God, to St. Peter and St. Paul, and to Pope Innocent and his successors; and, after doing homage to Pandolph, the Pope's legate, comforted himself by dragging Peter of Pomfret (whom he had thrown into the dungeons of Corfe Castle, for prophesying that he would lose his crown in this very year) at horses' tails to Wareham, through its streets, and back again, and hanging him, with his son, on a gibbet erected within sight of the castle. In 1215 (June 19), he signed Magna Charta, became sullen, melancholy, and dejected accordingly, and retired to the Isle of Wight. The next year was the last of his wretched life. He was now in perpetual motion, not knowing whither to go nor whom to trust. He therefore carefully avoided fighting, and incessantly marched from place to place to break the measures of his enemies. He thought himself safest in the county of Norfolk, where he chose the town of Lynn to secure his treasures, including his crown and sceptre. This town had expressed for him such affection and loyalty, that as a mark of his gratitude he granted it great privileges, presenting to the first mayor his own sword, which is said still to be preserved there. However, fearing his treasures were not safe even in this his favourite town, he resolved to remove them into Lincolnshire. Endeavouring to effect this removal, he very narrowly escaped drowning with his whole army, in the large Marsh or Wash which parts the two counties of Lincoln and Norfolk. He had himself barely effected the crossing, together with a portion of his forces, when the tide coming rapidly up the river Well-stream, the marsh was overflowed, and his baggage containing the treasure, also the remainder of his troops and attendants, were swallowed * The mixture of demoniacal blood, to which the Plantagenet princes attributed their paroxysms of fury, seems to have been of the strongest in John, whose outbreaks are described by Richard of Devizes, as something beyond anger. On such occasions he was terribly changed. His forehead, like Redgauntlet's, was corrugated, his flaming eyes glistened, and his colour became livid. |