down every obstacle. Bodies of men drew up against
them at every angle, with the Saxon cry of “Out—Out!”
“Down with the outland men!” Through
each, spear pierced, and sword clove, the way.
Red with gore was the spear of the prelate of London;
broken to the hilt was the sword militant in the terrible
hand of the Archbishop of Canterbury. So on
thy rode, so on they slaughtered—gained
the Eastern Gate, and passed with but two of their
number lost.
The fields once gained, for better precaution they
separated. Some few, not quite ignorant of the
Saxon tongue, doffed their mail, and crept through
forest and fell towards the sea-shore; others retained
steed and arms, but shunned equally the high roads.
The two prelates were among the last; they gained,
in safety, Ness, in Essex, threw themselves into an
open, crazy, fishing-boat, committed themselves to
the waves, and, half drowned and half famished, drifted
over the Channel to the French shores. Of the
rest of the courtly foreigners, some took refuge in
the forts yet held by their countrymen; some lay concealed
in creeks and caves till they could find or steal boats
for their passage. And thus, in the year of
our Lord 1052, occurred the notable dispersion and
ignominious flight of the counts and vavasours of
great William the Duke!
The Witana-gemot was assembled in the great hall of
Westminster in all its imperial pomp.
It was on his throne that the King sate now—and
it was the sword that was in his right hand.
Some seated below, and some standing beside, the
throne, were the officers of the Basileus [84] of Britain.
There were to be seen camararius and pincerna, chamberlain
and cupbearer; disc thegn and hors thegn [85]; the
thegn of the dishes, and the thegn of the stud; with
many more, whose state offices may not impossibly
have been borrowed from the ceremonial pomp of the
Byzantine court; for Edgar, King of England, had in
the old time styled himself the Heir of Constantine.
Next to these sat the clerks of the chapel, with
the King’s confessor at their head. Officers
were they of higher note than their name bespeaks,
and wielders, in the trust of the Great Seal, of a
power unknown of old, and now obnoxious to the Saxon.
For tedious is the suit which lingers for the king’s
writ and the king’s seal; and from those clerks
shall arise hereafter a thing of torture and of might,
which shall grind out the hearts of men, and be called
chancery! [86]
Below the scribes, a space was left on the floor,
and farther down sat the chiefs of the Witan.
Of these, first in order, both from their spiritual
rank and their vast temporal possessions, sat the lords
of the Church; the chairs of the prelates of London
and Canterbury were void. But still goodly was
the array of Saxon mitres, with the harsh, hungry,
but intelligent face of Stigand,—Stigand
the stout and the covetous; and the benign but firm
