Читать книгу The Queens of England - Strickland Agnes - Страница 10

This princess is called "The Good Queen," a title that shows how dear she must have been to her subjects, and how much she must have done to promote their happiness. She is the only princess of Scotland who ever shared the throne of an English king.

Her aunt, Christina Atheling, was Abbess of Rumsey, and did all she could to influence Matilda to take the veil and enter a convent. But this was very displeasing to her father, the King of Scotland, and one day when she entered his presence with a nun's veil fastened to her head, he indignantly tore it to pieces, saying that he intended her to become a wife some day, not a nun. This circumstance made such an impression on her youthful mind, that she never forgot it.

When the king made this remark, there was a young man present whose name was Alan, Duke of Bretagne. He was the widower of Constance, William the Conqueror's daughter, consequently much too old for Matilda; nevertheless, he made up his mind on the spot that he would make her his wife if he could get her consent.

But now we must tell something about the illustrious mother of this princess, to whom she was indebted for her earliest lessons in piety and virtue.

Her name was Margaret, and her parents were Edward Atheling, surnamed the Outlaw, and a daughter of Henry II. of Germany.

A.D. 1068. When she was a young lady, her family determined to leave England and take up their residence in Hungary, but the ship on which they embarked became disabled, and was driven by a storm into the Frith of Forth. Malcolm Canmore, who was King of Scotland, chanced to be present when they arrived, and so struck was he with the extreme beauty of the Lady Margaret, that a few days later he demanded her hand in marriage. This offer pleased her brother Edgar Atheling very much, because, not only was it a fine thing to have his sister in such a lofty position, but Malcolm had received them all so kindly and hospitably that he had made an excellent impression, so Edgar joyfully gave his consent.

The spot where Margaret first set foot on Scottish soil is to this day called Queen's Ferry in memory of the circumstance.

Now, Malcolm could neither read nor write, and he was so rough and wild, that many of her Saxon friends objected to so pure and intellectual a girl as Margaret uniting herself to him. She loved him, however, and immediately after her marriage she set to work to reform her household as well as she could, and to introduce religious ceremonies, which were sadly wanting..

Her husband felt her superiority, and had so much confidence in her judgment that he left the entire control of the royal household in her hands. He entertained such respect and admiration for her virtues as well as her mental qualities, that her influence over him was excellent.

All persons who were leading bad, immoral lives were dismissed from the court, and no one was allowed to hold an office of any kind who failed in honesty or sobriety.

Although grace was said daily after each meal, by Turgot, the court chaplain, the Scotch nobles were in the habit of leaving the table as soon as they had satisfied their

stomachs, without waiting for the grace. This displeased Margaret, and she began to consider what she could do to keep them in their seats without commanding them to stay. At last her woman's ingenuity fixed upon this arrangement. She ordered a cup of the very choicest wine in the royal cellar to be served to each man after grace, and by degrees she had the satisfaction of seeing not a single vacant chair at table so long as Turgot remained. In time the "grace cup" became an established custom not only at court, but in the castles of the nobility, and the dwellings of the humbler classes throughout the land.

Margaret was also a devoted mother, and bestowed a great deal of care upon the education of her seven children. The learned Turgot was their preceptor and confessor, and when the queen was dying she said to him: "Farewell! my life is drawing to a close; to you I commit the care of my children; teach them above all things to love and fear God."

Her husband had been killed by treachery a short time previously, so the five princes and two princesses were left orphans.

Their uncle Edgar was very kind to them all, and placed the girls, Matilda and Mary, at the convent, with their aunt Christina, where he knew that they would have a better training and education than he could possibly bestow on them. There they remained for a long time, and were carefully instructed in the art of reading as well as in good manners.

Christina always hoped that they would both become nuns, and considering that they were entirely under her influence, with no parents, their brothers at a distance, and no home but the convent, it seems strange that they did not. But they were reserved for another fate.

In those rude times the Norman nobles were so rough and uncultivated that they had no respect for any woman excepting those consecrated to religion, consequently it was a common custom for young girls to dress in nun's attire for protection.

But Christina made her nieces wear the great, thick, heavy, black veil because it was all settled in her mind that it was to be forever, and whenever she saw Matilda without hers, she scolded her and treated her very harshly. Poor Matilda found it so uncomfortable, and no doubt unbecoming too, that she wept many a bitter tear over the infliction, and the moment she was out of her stern aunt's sight, she would fling the veil on the ground and stamp upon it. During the seven long years that she spent in the dreary convent, she must, many a time, have wished for her dear father to relieve her, as he once did.

Matilda was passionately fond of music and devoted much time and attention to this art. When she became Queen of England she was exceedingly liberal in her rewards to those monks who sang the church service well, and did everything in her power to encourage them.

While at the convent, this princess received two offers of marriage. The first was from the Alan, to whom we referred at the beginning of this biography. But fortunately for her he died before she was called upon to give an answer, for she positively asserted that she would rather wear the odious veil forever than wed him. The other offer was from the young and handsome William Warren, Earl of Surrey. But him she did not love, and although he was one of the richest and most powerful of the baronets of England or Normandy, she refused him. She was somewhat sly on this occasion, for she pleaded her devotion to a religious life as excuse, though the real one was the affection she entertained for Henry, fourth son of William the Conqueror.

She was then at Wilton Abbey, near Winchester, the favorite home of the Norman king. Edgar Atheling, who was very fond of his niece, went frequently to see her, and Henry sometimes accompanied him. On such occasions it is probable that Matilda managed to leave off her veil, for she was too pretty not to be somewhat vain, and Henry was too young and ardent not to have his heart touched by her charms.

This prince was surnamed Beauclerc because he was such a good student, and Matilda was so well, educated herself that she could appreciate his intellect and accomplishments. Therefore she preferred him to Warren, and no doubt by a whispered word, or a sly glance, succeeded in letting him know it.

Of all William the Conqueror's sons, Henry was most in favor among the English, owing to his having been born on their soil: nevertheless it was a long time before he became king.

When on his deathbed, his father called Henry to him and made the following prophecy: "Thy elder brothers may go before thee. Robert shall have Normandy, and William shall have England, but thou shalt be inheritor of all my honors, and shalt excel both thy brethren in riches and power."

This dying prophecy was not fulfilled until he was thirty-two years old, when Wat Tyrrel's arrow placed him on the throne. It happened in this way: William Rufus, with his brother Henry and a large party of attendants, were hunting one day, when Henry, by some mistake, was separated from the others and found himself quite alone in an adjoining forest. Suddenly, the string of his cross-bow snapped, and he entered the hut of the nearest forester to have it mended.

A shrivelled-up old woman, who sat on the hearth-stone and looked like one of the witches in Macbeth, saluted him as king. He was very much surprised at this, and began to assure her that she had made a mistake. Without heeding his reply, she continued in a cracked voice, holding up her long, bony forefinger in token of warning,

"Hasty news to thee I bring,

Henry, thou art now a king;

Mark the words and heed them well,

Which to thee in sooth I tell,

And recall them in the hour

Of thy regal state and power."

Henry was amazed, but had no time to reply before the Red King's attendants surrounded the door of the hut with news that their Sovereign had been shot and instantly killed. Wat Tyrrel's arrow had accidentally struck him in the head, and the unlucky marksman had fled to escape punishment.

Prince Henry did not wait to weep over the sad fate of his brother, nor even to see his body properly cared for, but jumped into the saddle and made speed for Winchester. The cause of this haste was that the royal treasurer, who happened to be present at the chase, declared emphatically that the crown now belonged to Robert, and started on a race with Henry to announce it at the Norman palace. But Robert was in the Holy Land, so, with drawn sword, Henry forced the treasurer to give up his keys, and at once took possession of the royal robes, jewels, and regalia. This high-handed action caused dissatisfaction among those nobles who owned lands in Normandy, for they were desirous that their duke should succeed; so it was resolved to settle the question in the council chamber. All the

nobles and prelates assembled, and while they were debating the matter, Henry gathered a crowd about him in the street, and eloquently pleaded his own cause. First he reminded them that he was a born Englishman, then he made the most flattering promises, and concluded his speech by assuring them that they should have an English queen, and be governed by English laws. Loud shouts and hurrahs greeted his ears, and "Long live Henry, King of England!" passed from mouth to mouth, until it was taken up in the council hall itself, and thus, by the voice of the people was the succession settled.

On the day after this scene Henry was crowned at Westminster Abbey. The promises he made he fully intended to execute, and set about his work of reform without delay. His popularity increased, and when he made known his intention to marry Matilda, a descendant of their beloved King Alfred, and a girl educated in England, it met with great favor.

He then made a formal proposal for her to her brother, the King of Scotland. But the Abbess Christina was determined not to give her up without a struggle, moreover, she was a Saxon, and objected to having the Norman line strengthened by such a union, so she declared that Matilda was a consecrated nun, whom it would be a sacrilege to marry.

Henry did not dare to act in defiance of the church, though he had resolved on this marriage, so he wrote to the Archbishop of Canterbury asking advice. That prelate refused to decide so important a question alone, but summoned a council of churchmen, before whom Matilda was requested to appear.

This must have been a most embarrassing ordeal for a young girl brought up in the strict seclusion of a convent, but she was equal to it, and answered all the questions put to her clearly and intelligibly. They asked her whether she had taken any vows, saying that if so, no motive could induce them to consent to their being broken. The princess denied that she had ever done so. The archbishop asked her if she had not worn the black veil at her father's court, and subsequently in the nunneries of Rumsey and Wilton.

"I do not deny," she replied, "having worn the veil in my father's court, for when I was a child my aunt Christina put a piece of black cloth over my head; but when my father saw it, he snatched it off in great rage, and swore at the person who had put it on me, observing at the same time that it was his intention to give me in marriage, not to devote me to the church."

Then she told how she had worn the veil for protection at first, and afterwards, because her aunt would beat and scold her whenever she left it off.

This explanation was considered perfectly satisfactory, and the council pronounced Matilda free to contract marriage with the king.

Now, although she loved Henry, and certainly had no desire to remain longer in the convent, yet she hesitated about getting married because she had heard the king was not so good and virtuous as he ought to be, and she feared to trust her happiness in his keeping. But those connected with the Saxon royal line entreated her with these words: "O most noble and most gracious of women, if thou wouldst, thou couldst raise up the ancient honor of England, thou wouldst be a pledge of reconciliation; but if thou refusest, the enmity between the Saxon and Norman races will be eternal; human blood will never cease to flow."

This was a strong argument in favor of her marriage. She was to become a bond of peace to a divided nation,

and she ceased to object when Henry promised to be a constitutional monarch, and observe the laws and privileges established by Alfred.

Three years and six months after his coronation Henry and Matilda were married, and the latter was crowned at Westminster. Before performing the ceremony, the archbishop stood up in the pulpit, and related the whole history of the princess's life, because he wanted to leave no room for doubt that she was justified in getting married. He then asked in a loud tone whether anybody present had an objection to raise. All declared that the matter was rightly settled.

This marriage proved one of the happiest events for the English nation, for the queen's thoughts were always for the common people, and she urged her husband to grant them all their rights and privileges. One of his first acts was to abolish the curfew at her request, for she said that everybody ought to be permitted to sit up and enjoy an evening chat just as long as they pleased.

Henry's Anglo-Saxon subjects soon became so warmly attached to him, that they were anxious to show him an allegiance which the stern laws of his father, or of the Red King, never could have forced from them. They loved the queen also, because they knew that a great deal of their happiness was the result of her good influence.