people to take him for king; and counts as nothing,
in comparison, his hereditary claims. This,
together with the general tone of the reply, particularly
the passage in which he implies that he trusts his
defence not to his army but his people—makes
it probable that Godwin dictated the answer; and,
indeed, Edward himself could not have couched it,
either in Saxon or Danish. But the King is equally
entitled to the credit of it, whether he composed it,
or whether he merely approved and sanctioned its gallant
tone and its princely sentiment.
Heralds.
So much of the “pride, pomp, and circumstance”
which invest the Age of Chivalry is borrowed from
these companions of princes, and blazoners of noble
deeds, that it may interest the reader, if I set briefly
before him what our best antiquaries have said as to
their first appearance in our own history.
Camden (somewhat, I fear, too rashly) says, that “their
reputation, honour, and name began in the time of
Charlemagne.” The first mention of heralds
in England occurs in the reign of Edward iii.,
a reign in which Chivalry was at its dazzling zenith.
Whitlock says, “that some derive the name of
Herald from Hereauld, “a Saxon word (old soldier,
or old master), “because anciently they were
chosen from veteran soldiers.” Joseph
Holland says, “I find that Malcolm, King of Scots,
sent a herald unto William the Conqueror, to treat
of a peace, when both armies were in order of battle.”
Agard affirms, that “at the conquest there
was no practice of heraldry;” and observes truly,
“that the Conqueror used a monk for his messenger
to King Harold.”
To this I may add, that monks or priests also fulfil
the office of heralds in the old French and Norman
Chronicles. Thus Charles the Simple sends an
archbishop to treat with Rolfganger; Louis the Debonnair
sends to Mormon, chief of the Bretons, “a sage
and prudent abbot.” But in the Saxon times,
the nuncius (a word still used in heraldic Latin)
was in the regular service both of the King and the
great Earls. The Saxon name for such a messenger
was bode, and when employed in hostile negotiations,
he was styled warbode. The messengers between
Godwin and the King would seem, by the general sense
of the chronicles, to have been certain thegns acting
as mediators.
The Fylgia, or Tutelary Spirit.
This lovely superstition in the Scandinavian belief
is the more remarkable because it does not appear
in the creed of the Germanic Teutons, and is closely
allied with the good angel, or guardian genius, of
the Persians. It forms, therefore, one of the
arguments that favour the Asiatic origin of the Norsemen.
The Fylgia (following, or attendant, spirit) was always
represented as a female. Her influence was not
uniformly favourable, though such was its general
characteristic. She was capable of revenge if
neglected, but had the devotion of her sex when properly
treated. Mr. Grenville Pigott, in his popular
work, entitled “A Manual of Scandinavian Mythology,”
relates an interesting legend with respect to one of
these supernatural ladies:
