Читать книгу The Children's Story of Westminster Abbey - G. E. Troutbeck - Страница 6
CHAPTER III
KING EDWARD THE CONFESSOR
Оглавление“There is
One great society alone on earth:
The noble Living and the noble Dead.”
Wordsworth (Prelude).
King Edward the Confessor is such an important person in the history of the Abbey that his Chapel and Shrine must be described in a chapter by themselves.
As has already been told, the Confessor died on January 5th, 1066, and was buried the next day, January 6th, the Feast of the Epiphany. He was laid in front of the high altar of his newly built church, and the Conqueror afterwards presented splendid hangings to cover the simple tomb which was erected over the grave.
There is an interesting old story of something that happened at this tomb in the reign of William the Conqueror.
When Lanfranc became Archbishop of Canterbury, most of the Saxon bishops were sent away and Normans were put in their places. Among the Saxon bishops was the good old St. Wulfstan, Bishop of Worcester. He was made bishop in 1062, in the Confessor’s time. The Normans despised him, and thought him ignorant because he could not speak French, and they thought he would not be able to give any good advice to the King. Wulfstan was told that he must come to Westminster to meet the other bishops. They then said to him that he must give up the pastoral staff, which belonged to him as a bishop. Wulfstan showed no anger, but only said quite simply that he would resign his staff, not to the archbishop, “but rather to St. Edward, by whose authority I received it.” He then went into the Abbey, walked up to the Confessor’s tomb, and, raising his arm slowly, he struck the pastoral staff into the stone, saying: “Receive, my lord the King; and give it to whomsoever thou mayst choose.” It is said that the staff remained firmly fixed in the stone, so that no one could pull it out. The King and the Archbishop were amazed, and acknowledged that they had done wrong in trying to turn Wulfstan out of his bishopric. They begged Wulfstan to take his staff once more. The old man came near, and drew the staff out quite easily. The King and the Archbishop went down on their knees and begged his forgiveness, but, as the old story says: “He, who had learned from the Lord to be mild and humble in heart, threw himself in his turn upon his knees.”
We are told that in 1098 the Confessor’s tomb was opened, and that his body was found to be still in perfect preservation. Bishop Gundulph, of Rochester, alone ventured to uncover the face. The memory of Edward’s pure life, and of his goodness and charity, together with the miracles that were believed to be worked at his tomb, caused the people to honour him more and more as a saint, and in the year 1161, Pope Alexander III caused his name to be formally added to the names of the Saints of the Christian Church. In our Prayer-Books his name appears on October 13th, as King Edward the Confessor. A “confessor” means some one who has suffered for the faith of Christ without actual shedding of blood. In King Edward’s case it alludes to his exile in the time of the heathen Danes. The “Translation” of which the Prayer-Book speaks means the moving of the body into the shrine. This “Translation” took place on October 13th, 1163, when the Confessor’s body was placed in the new and splendid shrine made for it by King Henry II. This ceremony took place at midnight, and both Henry II and Archbishop Becket were present.
While the Abbey was being rebuilt in the reign of Henry III, the Confessor’s coffin was taken for the time to the Palace of Westminster close by. On October 13th, 1269, it was brought back with great pomp, and placed in another shrine, more gorgeous even than the former one.
The coffin was carried by the King himself, his brother, Richard, Earl of Cornwall, his two sons, Edward and Edmund, together with many of the nobles of the land. Dean Stanley says that this great ceremony must have reminded Henry III of an equally splendid one which he saw at Canterbury Cathedral when he was a boy. This was the “Translation” of the relics of St. Thomas à Becket in 1220, when Henry III walked in the procession. Pandulf, the Papal Legate (who had come to England in King John’s reign), and Stephen Langton, Archbishop of Canterbury, were there also, to see Becket’s body placed in the shrine prepared for it.
The chapel in which the Confessor’s shrine stands, and in which so many of our Kings and Queens are buried, is raised above the rest of the church by a mound of earth brought from Holy Land. What we now see of the shrine is only the remains of its former splendour. It was adorned at first with mosaic-work, and with many gold and jewelled images. The materials for the decoration were brought from Rome, and the shrine was made by Italian workmen. In Henry VIII’s time the beautiful decorations of the shrine, and the various treasures kept near it, were taken away. The monks were afraid that even the Confessor’s body might be destroyed, so they buried it in another part of the church. When Queen Mary Tudor came to the throne the shrine was set up again, and King Edward’s body was restored to its place. The Queen presented images and jewels for the adornment of the shrine. Under the Commonwealth the ornaments of the shrine were again removed, but the Confessor’s body was not removed or disturbed.
Another interesting story about the Confessor’s shrine must be told here. When James II was crowned, in 1685, one of the “singing men” thought he saw a hole made in the Confessor’s coffin by the fall of some bit of the wooden scaffolding. On going to see, he found that there was a hole, and he could see something shining inside the coffin. He put in his hand, and drew out a gold cross and chain, which he gave to the Dean. The Dean, in his turn, gave this precious cross and chain to the King. James II, seeing that the coffin was so unsafe, had it enclosed in another strong and solid one, and since that time the body has rested in peace. On the north side of the Confessor lies his wife, Queen Editha, the daughter of Earl Godwin. She is usually supposed to have been a sweet and gentle woman, but opinions differ a little on this point. At any rate, she appears to have been very well instructed for those days, and, we are told, very clever with her needle,—a valuable accomplishment for any woman. On the south side of the shrine lies the “Good Queen Maud,” wife of Henry I, and great-niece of Edward the Confessor. As she was a Saxon princess, her marriage with Henry I made the Saxons and Normans much better friends than they had been before. Queen Maud was a very good woman, and very kind to the poor. Neither of these Queens have any monument.
The Confessor’s shrine was always held to be a most important and sacred place, and many precious and beautiful things were placed near it, as if to do it honour. Among these the Stone of Scone was chief. We have already heard how and when it came to Westminster, and why it was so greatly prized. But the Stone of Scone was not alone. The coronet of Llewellyn, the last Welsh Prince of Wales, was taken by Edward I, and hung up in the Confessor’s Chapel by Edward’s little son Alfonso. Every one will remember that Edward II—Edward of Carnarvon, as he was called—was the first Prince of Wales who was the son of an English King.
If we could have visited the Abbey in those old days we should have seen yet another very interesting thing in the Confessor’s Chapel. This was a golden cup containing the heart of Prince Henry d’Almayne, son of Richard Earl of Cornwall, and nephew of Henry III. The story of this heart takes us back both to the Barons’ War and to the Crusades. It also takes us back to the great Italian poet Dante, who writes of Prince Henry’s heart in his famous poem, the Divine Comedy.
The story is as follows. At the Battle of Evesham, in 1265, when Simon de Montfort and the other Barons were fighting against Henry III, Simon de Montfort was slain. It must be remembered that Simon de Montfort had married Eleanor, daughter of King John, and that he was therefore brother-in-law of King Henry III, and of Richard Earl of Cornwall. That is rather an important part of the story.
Some years afterwards, in 1271, there was a great council held at the town of Viterbo, in Italy, for the purpose of electing a new Pope. The King of France, Prince Edward and Prince Edmund of England, and Prince Henry d’Almayne, came there also, on their way home from the Crusade. Guy and Simon, sons of the great Simon de Montfort, were also in Italy, and they, too, went to Viterbo. One day they were all at service in the Church of San Silvestro, when suddenly, just at the most solemn part of the Mass, Guy de Montfort rushed forward and stabbed his cousin, Prince Henry, even while the prince clung to the altar for protection. Not content with killing Prince Henry, Guy de Montfort dragged him out by the hair of the head into the square in front of the church. This was all done in revenge for the death of Simon de Montfort at Evesham. Guy de Montfort escaped, but was afterwards excommunicated. Prince Henry’s body was brought home, and buried in the monastery-church of Hayles in Gloucestershire, where his father also was buried, as being the founder of the monastery. Prince Henry’s heart was put into a golden cup, and brought to the Abbey, where it was placed close to the Confessor’s shrine,—some say, in the hand of a statue.
The shield of Richard Earl of Cornwall is carved on the Abbey walls, in the spandrels of the beautiful arcade which runs round the interior of the whole Church. It will be found in the South Aisle.
In the North Aisle, also in the arcade, is the shield of Simon de Montfort, with its double-tailed lion. When we look at this shield, we remember Simon de Montfort’s great work for his country, and how he helped to form our English Parliament. But his name reminds us of something else that happened in Southern France, and for which we feel sorry. Simon’s father, Count Simon de Montfort, had a great deal to do with the persecution of the Albigenses in 1209–1229, a cruel war which was called the Albigensian Crusade. These terrible religious wars are sad to think of, although, at the same time, it is interesting to find this link between the Abbey and the history of other parts of Europe.
But it is time to come back to Edward the Confessor himself. If we want to learn something about his character, and to understand why the people loved him so much, we cannot do better than study the sculptures on the screen behind the Coronation Chair. This delicately carved stone screen was made about the time of Edward IV, and along the top of it is a row of sculptures representing scenes from the life of the Confessor.
These scenes—beginning on the left hand as you face the screen—are as follows:—
1. The nobles swearing to be loyal to Queen Emma, widow of Ethelred the Unready, and mother of the Confessor.
2. Edward’s birth at Islip in Oxfordshire.
3. Edward’s Coronation at Winchester. The Archbishops of Canterbury and York are represented standing on either side of the King.
4. The abolition of the Danegelt, or tax which Ethelred had made the people pay in order to bribe the Danes to leave England. The carving represents an old story which says that the Confessor saw a demon dancing on the casks which held the money, and so he at once did away with the tax.
5. This is a very curious story. A scullion, thinking that the King was asleep, came into his room no less than three times to steal money out of the treasure-chest. The third time the King startled him very much by speaking. He did not scold him, however, but told him to make haste and get away before Hugolin the Treasurer came. When Hugolin did come, he was very angry with the King for letting the thief get off, but Edward was very merciful, and perhaps remembered that it is sometimes a great temptation to be very poor.
6. This picture shows the King kneeling in the old church at Thorney, where he is said to have had a vision of our Lord, who appeared to him as a child.
7. This represents a very curious, almost funny, story. One Whitsunday, when the King was at church, his courtiers saw him laugh, just at a very solemn part of the service too. They asked him afterwards why he had behaved in such a strange way. He answered that he had seen the Danes and Norwegians preparing to come and attack England, but as the Danish King was going on board his ship he fell into the sea and was drowned. This was what had made Edward laugh.
8. This represents a quarrel between Harold and Tosti, sons of Earl Godwin, and brothers-in-law of the Confessor.
9. This is a vision, in which the Confessor saw that the Seven Sleepers of Ephesus had all turned over from their right side to their left. This meant that dreadful troubles and disasters were to come upon the world for seventy years.
10, 12, and 13. These three pictures tell the beautiful story of the pilgrim’s ring. One day the Confessor met a poor pilgrim who asked an alms, and as the old book tells it, “the king is in distress because neither gold nor silver he finds at hand. And he reflects, remains silent, looks at his hand, and remembers that on his finder he had a cherished ring, which was large, royal, and beautiful. To the poor man he gives it, for the love of St. John his dear lord: and he takes it with joy, and gently gives him thanks; and when he was possessed of it he departed and vanished.”
Some time after, two English pilgrims from Ludlow were travelling in Palestine, and they met an old man “white and hoary, brighter than the sun at midday,” who showed them kindness and entertained them hospitably. He told them that he was John the Evangelist, and that he had a special love for the King of their country. He then gave them back the ring, and bade them restore it to King Edward, who had given it to him when he was disguised as a poor pilgrim. They were also to tell the King that in six months’ time he would be with St. John in Paradise. The pilgrims returned to England, and the thirteenth carving shows them bringing back the ring and delivering the message, whereupon the King began to prepare himself for his death.
These stories, together with others told of Edward’s kindness to the sick and to the leper, show us the power of this simple goodness and piety, and explain why the Confessor’s memory was so much loved and revered.
His tomb has been the centre round which not only many of our Kings and Queens, but gradually most of our best and greatest men, have been laid to rest.
At the time of King Edward VII’s Coronation a covering, or “pall”, in red velvet and gold was placed over the upper part of the Confessor’s shrine, where it still remains. Round the edge of the pall is embroidered a beautiful Latin inscription, which runs as follows—
“Deo carus Rex Edwardus non mortuus est, sed cum XPO viaturus de morte ad vitam migravit.”
“King Edward, dear to God, has not died, but has passed from death to life, to live with Christ.”
[G. A. Dunn. RICHARD II.