On the breaking up of the conference, all obeyed; they set sail for Normandy, while he remained anxiously expecting a favourable report. Shortly after he learned from abroad, that Richard had received his sister with great affection, and that he invited the king also to condescend to become his inmate. Ethelred, therefore, going into Normandy, in the month of January, felt his distresses soothed by the attentions of his host. This Richard was son of Richard the first, and equalled his father in good fortune and good qualities; though he certainly surpassed him in heavenly concerns. He completed the monastery at Feschamp, which his father had begun. He was more intent on prayer and temperance, than you would require in any monk, or hermit. He was humble to excess, in order that he might subdue by his patience, the petulance of those who attacked him. Moreover it is reported, that at night, secretly escaping the observation of his servants, he was accustomed to go unattended to the matins213 of the monks, and to continue in prayer till day-light. Intent on this practice, one night in particular, at Feschamp, he was earlier than customary, and finding the door shut, he forced it open with unusual violence, and disturbed the sleep of the sacristan. He, astonished at the noise of a person knocking in the dead of night, got up, that he might see the author of so bold a deed; and finding only a countryman in appearance, clothed in rustic garb, he could not refrain from laying hands on him; and, moved with vehement indignation, he caught hold of his hair, and gave this illustrious man a number of severe blows, which he bore with incredible patience, and without uttering a syllable. The next day, Richard laid his complaint before the chapter,214 and with counterfeited anger, summoned the monk to meet him at the town of Argens, threatening that, “he would take such vengeance for the injury, so that all France should talk of it.” On the day appointed, while the monk stood by, almost dead with fear, he detailed the matter to the nobility, largely exaggerating the enormity of the transaction, and keeping the culprit in suspense, by crafty objections to what he urged in mitigation. Finally, after he had been mercifully judged by the nobility, he pardoned him; and to make his forgiveness more acceptable, he annexed all that town, with its appurtenances, reported to be abundant in the best wine, to the office of this sacristan: saying, “That he was an admirable monk, who properly observed his appointed charge, and did not break silence, though roused with anger.” In the twenty-eighth year of his dukedom, he died, having ordered his body to be buried at the door of the church, where it would be subjected to the feet of such as passed by, and to the spouts of water which streamed from above. In our time, however, William, third abbat of that place, regarding this as disgraceful, removed the long-continued reproach, and taking up the body, placed it before the high altar. He had a brother, Robert, whom he made archbishop of Rouen, though by this he tarnished his reputation. For he, cruelly abusing this honour, at first, committed many crimes and many atrocious acts; but growing in years, he certainly wiped off some of them by his very liberal almsgiving. After Richard, his son of the same name obtained the principality, but lived scarcely a year. A vague opinion indeed has prevailed, that, by the connivance of his brother Robert, whom Richard the second begat on Judith, daughter of Conan, earl of Brittany, a certain woman, skilled in poisons, took the young man off. In atonement for his privity to this transaction he departed for Jerusalem, after the seventh year of his earldom; venturing on an undertaking very meritorious at that time, by commencing, with few followers, a journey, exposed to incursions of barbarians, and strange, by reason of the customs of the Saracens. He persevered nevertheless, and did not stop, but safely completed the whole distance, and purchasing admission at a high price, with bare feet, and full of tears, he worshipped at that glory of the Christians, the sepulchre of our Lord. Conciliating the favour of God, as we believe, by this labour, on his return homewards he ended his days at Nice, a city of Bithynia; cut off, as it is said, by poison. This was administered by his servant Ralph, surnamed Mowin, who had wrought himself up to the commission of this crime, from a hope of obtaining the dukedom. But on his return to Normandy, the matter becoming known to all, he was detested as a monster, and retired to perpetual exile. To Robert succeeded William, his son, then a child, of whom as I shall have to speak hereafter, I shall now return to my narrative.

In the meantime Sweyn, as I have before related, oppressed England with rapine and with slaughter: the inhabitants were first plundered of their property, and then proscribed. In every city it was matter of doubt what should be done: if revolt was determined on, they had none to take the lead; if submission was made choice of, they would have a harsh ruler to deal with. Thus their public and private property, together with their hostages, was carried to the fleet; as he was not a lawful sovereign, but a most cruel tyrant. The Deity, however, was too kind to permit England to fluctuate long in such keen distress, for the invader died shortly after, on the purification of St. Mary,215 though it is uncertain by what death. It is reported, that while devastating the possessions of St. Edmund,216 king and martyr, he appeared to him in a vision, and gently addressed him on the misery of his people; that on Sweyn’s replying insolently, he struck him on the head; and that, in consequence of the blow, he died, as has been said, immediately after. The Danes then elected Canute, the son of Sweyn, king; while the Angles, declaring that their natural sovereign was dearer to them, if he could conduct himself more royally than he had hitherto done, sent for king Ethelred out of Normandy. He despatched Edward, his son, first, to sound the fidelity of the higher orders and the inclination of the people, on the spot; who, when he saw the wishes of all tending in his favour, went back in full confidence for his father. The king returned, and, being flattered by the joyful plaudits of the Angles, that he might appear to have shaken off his constitutional indolence, he hastened to collect an army against Canute, who was at that time in Lindsey, where his father had left him with the ships and hostages, and was levying fresh troops and horses, that, mustering a sufficient force, he might make a vigorous attack upon his enemies unprepared: vowing most severe vengeance, as he used to say, on the deserters. But, circumvented by a contrivance similar to his own, he retreated. Escaping at that time with much difficulty, and putting to sea with his remaining forces, he coasted the British ocean from east to south, and landed at Sandwich. Here, setting all divine and human laws at defiance, he mutilated his hostages, who were young men of great nobility and elegance, by depriving them of their ears, and nostrils, and some even of their manhood. Thus tyrannizing over the innocent, and boasting of the feat, he returned to his own country. In the same year the sea-flood, which the Greeks call Euripus, and we Ledo,217 rose to so wonderful a height, that none like it was recollected in the memory of man, for it overflowed the villages, and destroyed their inhabitants, for many miles.

The year following a grand council of Danes and English, was assembled at Oxford, where the king commanded two of the noblest Danes, Sigeferth, and Morcar, accused of treachery to him by the impeachment of the traitor Edric, to be put to death. He had lured them, by his soothing expressions, into a chamber, and deprived them, when drunk to excess, of their lives, by his attendants who had been prepared for that purpose. The cause of their murder was said to be, his unjustifiable desire for their property. Their dependants, attempting to revenge the death of their lords by arms, were worsted, and driven into the tower of St. Frideswide’s church at Oxford, where, as they could not be dislodged, they were consumed by fire: however, shortly after, the foul stain was wiped out by the king’s penitence, and the sacred place repaired. I have read the history of this transaction, which is deposited in the archives of that church. The wife of Sigeferth, a woman remarkable for her rank and beauty, was carried prisoner to Malmesbury; on which account, Edmund, the king’s son, dissembling his intention, took a journey into those parts. Seeing her, he became enamoured; and becoming enamoured, he made her his wife; cautiously keeping their union secret from his father, who was as much an object of contempt to his family as to strangers. This Edmund was not born of Emma, but of some other person, whom fame has left in obscurity. With that exception, he was a young man in every respect of noble disposition; of great strength both of mind and person, and, on this account, by the English, called “Ironside:” he would have shrouded the indolence of his father, and the meanness of his mother, by his own conspicuous virtue, could the fates have spared him. Soon after, at the instigation of his wife, he asked of his father the possessions of Sigeferth, which were of large extent among the Northumbrians, but could not obtain them; by his own exertions, however, he procured them at last, the inhabitants of that province willingly submitting to his power.

The same summer Canute, having settled his affairs in Denmark, and entered into alliance with the neighbouring kings, came to England, determined to subdue it or perish in the attempt. Proceeding from Sandwich into Kent, and thence into West Saxony, he laid every thing waste with fire and slaughter, while the king was lying sick at Cosham.218 Edmund indeed attempted to oppose him, but being thwarted by Edric, he placed his forces in a secure situation. Edric, however, thinking it unnecessary longer to dissemble, but that he might, now, openly throw off the mask, revolted to Canute with forty ships, and all West Saxony following his example, delivered hostages, and gave up their arms. Yet the Mercians repeatedly assembling stood forward to resist: and if the king would but come, and command whither they were to march, and bring with him the leading men of London, they were ready to shed their blood for their country. But he, accustomed to commit his safety to fortifications, and not to attack the enemy, remained in London; never venturing out, for fear, as he said, of traitors. On the contrary, Canute was gaining towns and villages over to his party; and was never unemployed; for he held consultations by night, and fought battles by day. Edmund, after long deliberation, esteeming it best, in such an emergency, to recover, if possible, the revolted cities by arms, brought over Utred, an earl, on the other side of the Humber, to the same sentiments. They imagined too, that such cities as were yet doubtful which side to take, would determine at once, if they would only inflict signal vengeance on those which had revolted. But Canute, possessed of equal penetration, circumvented them by a similar contrivance. Giving over the West Saxons and that part of Mercia which he had subjugated, to the custody of his generals, he proceeded himself against the Northumbrians; and, by depopulating the country, compelled Utred to retire, to defend his own possessions; and notwithstanding he surrendered himself, yet with inhuman levity he ordered him to be put to death. His earldom was given to Eric, whom Canute afterwards expelled England, because he pretended to equal power with himself. Thus all being subdued, he ceased not pursuing Edmund, who was gradually retreating, till he heard that he was at London with his father. Canute then remained quiet till after Easter, that he might attack the city with all his forces. But the death of Ethelred preceded the attempt: for in the beginning of Lent, on St. Gregory’s day,219 he breathed out a life destined only to labours and misery: he lies buried at St. Paul’s in London. The citizens immediately proclaimed Edmund king, who, mustering an army, routed the Danes at Penn,220 near Gillingham, about Rogation-day. After the festival of St. John, engaging them again at Sceorstan,221 he retired from a drawn-battle. The English had begun to give way, at the instance of Edric; who being on the adversaries’ side, and holding in his hand a sword stained with the blood of a fellow whom he had dexterously slain, exclaimed, “Fly, wretches! fly! behold, your king was slain by this sword!” The Angles would have fled immediately, had not the king, apprised of this circumstance, proceeded to an eminence, and taking off his helmet, shown his face to his comrades. Then brandishing a dart with all his forces, he launched it at Edric; but being seen, and avoided, it missed him, and struck a soldier standing near; and so great was its violence, that it even transfixed a second. Night put a stop to the battle, the hostile armies retreating as if by mutual consent, though the English had well-nigh obtained the victory.

After this the sentiments of the West Saxons changed, and they acknowledged their lawful sovereign. Edmund proceeded to London, that he might liberate those deserving citizens whom a party of the enemy had blocked up immediately after his departure; moreover they had surrounded the whole city, on the parts not washed by the river Thames, with a trench; and many men lost their lives on both sides in the skirmishes. Hearing of the king’s approach, they precipitately took to flight; while he pursuing directly, and passing the ford called Brentford, routed them with great slaughter. The remaining multitude which were with Canute, while Edmund was relaxing a little and getting his affairs in order, again laid siege to London both on the land and river side; but being nobly repulsed by the citizens, they wreaked their anger on the neighbouring province of Mercia, laying waste the towns and villages, with plunder, fire, and slaughter. The best of the spoil was conveyed to their ships assembled in the Medway; which river flowing by the city of Rochester, washes its fair walls with a strong and rapid current. They were attacked and driven hence also by the king in person; who suddenly seizing the ford, which I have before mentioned at Brentford,222 dispersed them with signal loss.

While Edmund was preparing to pursue, and utterly destroy the last remains of these plunderers, he was prevented by the crafty and abandoned Edric, who had again insinuated himself into his good graces; for he had come over to Edmund, at the instigation of Canute, that he might betray his designs. Had the king only persevered, this would have been the last day for the Danes; but misled by the insinuations of a traitor, who affirmed that the enemy would make no farther attempt, he brought swift destruction upon himself, and the whole of England. Being thus allowed to escape, they again assembled; attacked the East Angles, and, at Assandun,223 compelled the king himself, who came to their assistance, to retreat. Here again, the person I am ashamed to mention so frequently, designedly gave the first example of flight. A small number, who, mindful of their former fame, and encouraging each other, had formed a compact body, were cut off to a man. On this field of battle Canute gained the kingdom; the glory of the Angles fell; and the whole flower of the country withered. Amongst these was Ulfkytel, earl of East Anglia, who had gained immortal honour in the time of Sweyn, when first attacking the pirates, he showed that they might be overcome: here fell, too, the chief men of the day, both bishops and abbats. Edmund flying hence almost alone, came to Gloucester, in order that he might there re-assemble his forces, and attack the enemy, indolent, as he supposed, from their recent victory. Nor was Canute wanting in courage to pursue the fugitive. When everything was ready for battle, Edmund demanded a single combat; that two individuals might not, for the lust of dominion, be stained with the blood of so many subjects, when they might try their fortune without the destruction of their faithful adherents: and observing, that it must redound greatly to the credit of either to have obtained so vast a dominion at his own personal peril. But Canute refused this proposition altogether; affirming that his courage was surpassing, but that he was apprehensive of trusting his diminutive person against so bulky an antagonist: wherefore, as both had equal pretensions to the kingdom, since the father of either of them had possessed it, it was consistent with prudence that they should lay aside their animosity, and divide England.224 This proposition was adopted by either army, and confirmed with much applause, both for its equity and its beneficent regard to the repose of the people who were worn out with continual suffering. In consequence, Edmund, overcome by the general clamour, made peace, and entered into treaty with Canute, retaining West Saxony himself and giving Mercia to the other. He died soon after on the festival of St. Andrew,225 though by what mischance is not known, and was buried at Glastonbury near his grandfather Edgar. Fame asperses Edric, as having, through regard for Canute, compassed his death by means of his servants: reporting that there were two attendants on the king to whom he had committed the entire care of his person, and, that Edric seducing them by promises, at length made them his accomplices, though at first they were struck with horror at the enormity of the crime; and that, at his suggestion, they drove an iron hook into his posteriors, as he was sitting down for a necessary purpose. Edwin, his brother on the mother’s side, a youth of amiable disposition, was driven from England by Edric, at the command of Canute, and suffering extremely for a considerable time, “both by sea and land,” his body, as is often the case, became affected by the anxiety of his mind, and he died in England, where he lay concealed after a clandestine return, and lies buried at Tavistock. His sons, Edwy and Edward, were sent to the king of Sweden to be put to death; but being preserved by his mercy, they went to the king of Hungary, where, after being kindly treated for a time, the elder died; and the younger married Agatha, the sister of the queen. His brothers by Emma, Alfred and Edward, lay securely concealed in Normandy for the whole time that Canute lived.

I find that their uncle Richard took no steps to restore them to their country: on the contrary, he married his sister Emma to the enemy and invader; and it may be difficult to say, whether to the greater ignominy of him who bestowed her, or of the woman who consented to share the nuptial couch of that man who had so cruelly molested her husband, and had driven her children into exile. Robert, however, whom we have so frequently before mentioned as having gone to Jerusalem, assembling a fleet and embarking soldiers, made ready an expedition, boasting that he would set the crown on the heads of his grand-nephews; and doubtlessly he would have made good his assertion, had not, as we have heard from our ancestors, an adverse wind constantly opposed him: but assuredly this was by the hidden counsel of God, in whose disposal are the powers of all kingdoms. The remains of the vessels, decayed through length of time, were still to be seen at Rouen in our days.