_ CHAPTER XXII. THE LORD OF BRAMBER
Edith stood by while the Norman soldiers piled the stones over the grave. No tear had fallen from her eyes from the time that she had reached the field of battle. Her face was as pale as marble, and looked almost as rigid. When the last stone was placed on the top of the cairn she turned to Wulf and Beorn:
"Farewell, Wulf! farewell, Beorn! I am glad you were here. I am glad that beside me stood two of his most trusted thanes, and two of the monks from the abbey he founded, and whose welfare was so dear to him. I go to Lewes, and when the doors of the convent close on me I shall be dead to the world. Would that I were lying beneath that cairn by the side of my dear lord. I cannot weep for him now, the springs of my heart seem frozen, but I have time for that. Farewell, thanes! I shall remember you in my prayers." So saying she turned away, and walked back to the litter.
"Poor lady!" Beorn exclaimed as he watched the litter, escorted by the two monks, carried along the road.
"Poor lady indeed!" Wulf repeated; "and yet there are thousands in England and Normandy who were widowed yesterday, and maybe she is better off than many. She lost Harold the day she resigned him to another, and it was harder perhaps to be parted from him in that fashion than to know that he is dead now. She can think of him as his true widow, for assuredly the queen who never cared aught for him is a widow but in name. Before, Edith was tortured by the desire to see him and to comfort him, and yet his marriage stood as a gulf between them, a gulf that she would never have passed. Now she can think of him as her very own, as the man who had loved her even as she had loved him. It is a grief, a terrible grief, but one without bitterness. But see, Lord de Burg is coming this way, and as there is a litter behind him I suppose all is ready for our departure."
"I am ready, young thanes," De Burg said as he came up. "We ride at once for Pevensey, whither an order was sent some hours ago for a ship to be in readiness to sail for Normandy."
Three horses were led up and mounted. They rode away, followed by an armed party and the litter on which Osgod was laid.
"You have done your last duty to your king," the Norman said. "It is a fit grave for a hero, and assuredly Harold was one. Maybe that it is not his last resting-place. The duke at present doubtless felt constrained at first to refuse him Christian burial, for had he granted Gytha's request, it would have been an acknowledgment that the charges brought against him were unfounded, and the excommunication of no avail; but I doubt not that in time he will allow his body to be taken to his abbey at Waltham. Now," he said less gravely, in order to turn their thoughts from the sad scenes they had witnessed, "what think you of the future, will the Northern earls head a national movement against us?"
"They are foul traitors!" Beorn exclaimed passionately; "and I would that Wulf and I could meet them in fair lists and fight them."
"They will do nothing," Wulf said more quietly. "They will hasten to make the best terms they can for themselves, and will ask to be permitted to hold their earldoms as his vassals. But they will not long enjoy their treachery; they are ever intriguers, and as soon as they see their opportunity will conspire against William as they conspired against Harold. Thank heaven they will receive scantier mercy at his hands than they received at the king's. As for the South and East, who is to lead them? There is no one left to whom they can look for guidance; doubtless in some places they will resist, but such resistance can only bring ruin upon those who attempt it. Maybe some will take to the forests or the great eastern marshes, and may perhaps hold out for months, or even years. But what can it avail in the end? Had Harold escaped alive there would have been many a battle as obstinate as that of yesterday to fight before England was conquered. Had any of the greater thanes escaped men would have flocked to them, but they are all gone, save the few that were found well-nigh lifeless this morning. Perhaps it is better as it is; for now that William is victorious he will soon receive large bodies of reinforcements, and as resistance would be vain, it were best that no resistance were made. Duke William has shown himself a wise and just ruler in Normandy, and will doubtless prove himself the same in England if he be not angered by revolts and risings. It is hard that Englishmen should be ruled by a foreigner, but it is no new thing for us. We Saxons conquered the Britons, and in turn Danish kings have ruled over us; but Saxon and Dane have become almost one, and the old grudges have died out. Maybe in time you Normans also may become English."
"You would take the oath of allegiance to William then, Wulf?"
"Not now, my lord, but when England accepts him as her king I should be willing to hold my lands from him as I have held them before from our kings, that is, if the lands remain mine."
"They will remain yours," Lord de Burg said confidently. "The duke's promise was publicly made, and he will certainly adhere to it; even if he wished it, he could not, after charging Harold with perjury, break his own promise."
The sun was sinking when they reached Pevensey, for the search for Harold's body and the building of his cairn had occupied many hours. They went at once on board one of the ships De Burg had himself furnished for the expedition, and two days later landed at Rouen. They had brought horses with them, and the two young thanes at once rode with the baron to his chateau, leaving Osgod to be brought after them in his litter. Lord de Burg was received with the greatest joy by his wife, Guy, and Agnes. They had been in a state of terrible anxiety for the last twenty-four hours, for a swift ship had been despatched by the duke with the news of the victory, at daybreak after the battle, and it was known that the fight had been long and desperately contested, and that a great number of barons and knights had fallen. As soon as the first outburst of delight was over the baron called in Wulf and Beorn, who had not followed him into the room, feeling that he would prefer to greet his family alone. Guy gave an exclamation of surprise and pleasure as they came forward.
"These are my prisoners," the baron said with a smile, "if I can call prisoners those who have never surrendered. The duke has intrusted them to my keeping, and has ordered that you shall hold them in safe custody."
"Lord de Burg does not tell you, lady, that he saved our lives, which but for him were assuredly lost. We were well-nigh spent, and were surrounded by a ring of foes when he broke in and stood beside us proclaiming that the duke himself had given a pledge for our safety."
"I have paid part of the debt we owe," the baron said, "though I saved them at no cost to myself, while Wulf defended Guy at the risk of his life."
"How long do you stay with us, my lord?"
"As long as I can, wife. I went, as you know, unwillingly to the war, but when all the Norman barons followed the duke I could not hold back. But I trust to have no more of it; so terrible a field no man living has seen, and in truth until twilight fell it seemed that we should be beaten, with such obstinacy and endurance did the English fight. We won, but it was a victory over the dead rather than the living. Of Harold's regular troops no man turned, no man asked for quarter, they fell where they stood; and even the irregulars, who had fought with equal bravery, when, as night fell and all was lost, they fled, inflicted well-nigh as heavy a blow upon us as had been dealt during the day. I have no animosity against them, they are valiant men, and were in their right in defending their country, and I would that I could stay peacefully here until the last blow has been struck. I am well content with my estates, and need no foot of English land, no share in English spoil I must fight for my liege lord as long as fighting goes on, but that over I hope to return here and live in peace. At any rate I can tarry quietly here for a week Certainly no force can be raised in time to oppose the duke's advance on London, and my sword therefore may well rest in its scabbard. I suppose, thanes, you will not object to give me your parole to attempt no escape?"
"Willingly, my lord," Beorn said. "If, contrary to our opinion, England should rise and fight one more battle for freedom, we will give you due notice that we shall if possible escape and cross the sea to join our countrymen."
"That is fair enough," De Burg said with a smile, "and the moment you give me notice I will clap you into so firm a cage that I warrant you will not escape from it; but I trust the necessity will not arise. Now, Guy, take your friends to their chambers and see to their comfort. I will not tell the story of the battle until you return, for doubtless you are burning to hear it, and in truth it will be famous in all times, both as one of the sturdiest fights ever heard of, and because such great issues depended on its results."
When Guy returned with his friends and a meal had been eaten, De Burg told the story of the battle of Senlac.
"Such is the story as far as I know it," he added in conclusion, "but in truth beyond the beginning and the end, and the fact that we twice fell back and at one time were flying in headlong rout to our ships, I know nothing. All day I was striving to break through a living wall, and striving in vain. I can see now the close line of shields, the helmet covered faces above them, and the terrible axes rising and falling, cleaving through helmet and hauberk as if they had been pasteboard. It may well-nigh be said that we have no wounded, for each man struck fell in his track as if smitten by lightning. Can you add more, thanes?"
Beorn shook his head.
"It is like a dream," Wulf said. "We never moved through the long day. At times there was a short lull, and then each man was fighting as best he could. I know that my arms grew tired and that my axe seemed to grow heavier, that horse and foot swept up to us, and there was occasionally breathing time; that the royal brothers' voices rose ever cheeringly and encouragingly until Gurth and Leofwin fell, and after that Harold's alone was heard, though I think it came to my ears as from a distance, so great was the tumult, so great our exertions. When Harold died I knew that all was lost, but even that did not seem to affect me. I had become a sort of machine, and fought almost mechanically, with a dim consciousness that the end was close at hand. It was only at the last, when Beorn and I stood back to back, that I seemed myself again, and was animated with new strength that came, I suppose, from despair."
"It was an awful day," De Burg said. "I have fought in many battles under the duke's banner, but the sternest of them were but paltry skirmishes in comparison to this. Half of the nobles of Normandy lie dead, half the army that filled the mighty fleet that sailed from St. Valery have fallen. William is King of England, but whether that will in the end repay Normandy for the loss she has suffered seems to me very doubtful. And now let us to bed. I sleep not well on shipboard, and in truth I had such dreams of death and slaughter that I ever awoke bathed with sweat, and in such fear that I dared not go to sleep again."
At the end of a week the baron sailed again for England. To the two young Englishmen the following weeks passed pleasantly. Ships came frequently from England with news of what was doing there. William had tarried for some time at his camp at Hastings, expecting to receive the submission of all England. But not an Englishman came to bow before him. The Northern earls had hurried to London as soon as they heard of the defeat at Senlac and the death of the king and his brothers, and a Witan was instantly summoned to choose his successor to the throne.
Edwin and Morcar thought that the choice of the nation would surely fall upon one or other of them, as in rank and position they were now the first men in the realm. They exerted themselves to the utmost to bring this about, but no true-hearted Englishman could forgive either their acceptance of Harold Hardrada as their king, or the long and treacherous delay that had left Southern England to stand alone on the day of battle. The choice of the Witan fell on the young Edgar, the grandson of Edmund Ironside, the last male survivor of the royal blood. Edgar, however, was never crowned, as that ceremony could only take place at one of the festivals of the church, and it was therefore postponed until Christmas. London was eager for resistance. Alfred had fought battle after battle against the Danes, and though without their natural leaders, the people throughout Southern England looked forward to a long and determined struggle. With the army of the North as a rallying centre a force more numerous than that which Harold had led might soon be gathered. But these hopes were dashed to the ground by the treacherous Northern earls. Had one of them been chosen to sit on the vacant throne they would doubtless have done their best to maintain that throne, but they had been passed over, and oblivious of the fact that it was to the South they owed the rescue of their earldoms from the sway of the King of Norway and Tostig, they sullenly marched away with their army and left the South to its fate.
While the cause of England was thus being betrayed and ruined, William was advancing eastward along the coast ravaging and destroying. Romney was levelled to the ground and its inhabitants slain. Dover opened its gates. It is probable that most of the male population had joined Harold, and had fallen at Senlac; and that the terrible fate of Romney had struck such terror into the hearts of the inhabitants, who knew there was no army that could advance to their assistance, that they surrendered at the Conqueror's approach. To them William behaved with lenity and kindness. His severity at Romney and his lenity at Dover had their effect. There being no central authority, no army in the field, each town and district was left to shift for itself; and assuredly none of them unaided could hope to offer prolonged resistance to the Normans. As, after eight days' stay at Dover, William advanced towards Canterbury, he was met by a deputation of the citizens offering their submission, and soon from all parts of Kent similar messages came in.
Kent had done its full share in the national defence on the hill near Hastings, and was not to be blamed if, when all England remained supine and inactive, its villagers refused to throw away their lives uselessly. The duke was detained by sickness for a month near Canterbury, and there received the submission of Kent and Sussex, and also that of the great ecclesiastical city of Winchester; but the spirit of resistance in London still burned brightly, and William was indisposed to risk the loss that would be incurred by an assault upon its walls. He, therefore, moved round in a wide circle, wasting the land, plundering and destroying, till the citizens, convinced that resistance could only bring destruction upon themselves and their city, and in spite of the efforts of their wounded sheriff, sent an embassy to the duke at Berkhampstead to submit and do homage to him.
Not London alone was represented by this embassy. The young king, elected but uncrowned, was with it; two archbishops, two bishops, and many of the chief men in England accompanied it, and although they were not the spokesmen of any Witan, they might be said fairly to represent London and Southern England.
Deserted by the North, without a leader, and seeing their land exposed to wholesale ravages, the South and West Saxons were scarcely to be blamed for preferring submission to destruction. They doubtless thought that William, the wise ruler of Normandy, would make a far better king than the boy they had chosen, who was himself almost as much a foreigner as William, save that there was a strain of English royal blood in his veins. So had England accepted Canute the Dane as her king, and he had ruled as an English monarch wisely and well.
The embassy offered William the crown. The Norman prelates and priests, who held so many of the dignities in the English Church, had worked hard to incline men's minds to this end. Silent while England stood united under its king to oppose the invader, their tongues were loosed as soon as the strength of England was broken and its king dead, and they pointed out that God had clearly designated William as their king by giving him victory and by destroying alike Harold and his brothers.
William went through the farce of hesitating to accept the offer of the crown, and held a consultation with his officers as to the answer he should give. They of course replied that he should accept the offer. William, therefore, marched with his army to London, where on Christmas-day the same prelate who had anointed Harold King of England crowned William as his successor.
A few days later Beorn and Wulf with Osgod, who had now completely recovered from his wounds, set sail for England. There was no longer any reason why they should not take their oaths to serve William. He was the crowned king of England, the accepted of the people, as Harold had been, and when all Southern England had submitted it was not for them, who had received special favours at William's hand, to hold back. With them went Lady de Burg, Guy, and Agnes, with many other Norman ladies on their way to rejoin their lords in London. Baron de Burg, on the day after their arrival at Westminster, led the two young thanes to the private apartment of the king. He received them graciously.
"There are none of your nation," he said, "whose homage I more gladly accept. You fought valiantly before under my banner, and will, I am sure, be ready to do so again should occasion arise. I am thankful to my Lord de Burg that he interposed in my name and saved your lives. I have not forgotten the other part of my promise, and have this morning ordered my justiciar to add to your estates forfeited lands adjoining."
Beorn and Wulf had previously talked the matter over. Their own inclinations would have led them to refuse the offer, but as it was certain that all the land forfeited to the crown by the death of its holders in battle would be apportioned among William's Norman followers, they thought that it would be wholly for the benefit both of the families of the late thanes and for their tenants and people that they should accept any estate William might bestow on them. They, therefore, thanked the duke in suitable terms, and at once took the oaths for the lands he might be pleased to bestow on them. A week later they received the formal deeds, which in both cases more than doubled the estates they before possessed.
The same evening Lord de Burg said to Wulf, who had tarried in London, while Beorn had at once set out for Fareham: "I think the time has come, Wulf, when I can speak of a subject that has been in my thoughts for a long time, and which, although you have not spoken, has, as my wife and I have both seen, been dear to you. Normandy and England are now one, and we are vassals of the same king. As long as there was a probability that Englishmen and Normans might again be ranged in battle against each other, it was not expedient that aught should be done in the matter, but, now this obstacle is removed, I can offer you the alliance on which I am sure your heart is set, and give you the hand of my daughter in marriage."
"It is the greatest wish of my life," Wulf replied gratefully. "I should have asked you for her hand before had it not been for the position of public affairs. I love her dearly, though I have until now abstained from speaking; and yet I would not wed her unless her heart went freely with her hand."
"I think not that she will be disobedient to my wishes," De Burg said smiling. "She has proved deaf to all her Norman suitors, and although among them were some whom few maidens would have said no to, her mother and I had no wish to force her inclinations, especially as we both shrewdly suspected where her heart had been bestowed. This alliance, too, has long been the dearest wish of Guy. On the bed of sickness where he lay so long, and from which it seemed at one time that he would never rise, he often spoke to me of it. He was fondly attached to his sister, and again and again said that he wished of all things that you should some day become her husband, as he was sure her happiness would be safe with you, and that you would worthily fill his place to us, and would, when the time came, rule nobly over the lands of De Burg."
"God forbid that that should ever be the case," Wulf said earnestly. "I trust that Guy will live long, and that he will marry and leave descendants to follow him."
The baron shook his head sadly. "Guy is better," he said, "but he is still weak and fragile, and the leeches tell me that a rough winter or an illness that would be nought to others might carry him off. I have small hopes that he will ever marry. I am sure that no such thought is in his mind. He is as eager now as he was four years ago that you should be a son to us, and a husband to Agnes. He has also earnestly expressed the wish, in which I also join, that you should take our name. You English have no family names, but that will come with other Norman customs, and marrying a De Burg it would seem natural that you should yourself become Wulf de Burg."
"I should feel it a high honour. There is no more noble name in Normandy, and I trust I may prove worthy of bearing it."
"That I have no fear of, Wulf, else I should not have offered you the hand of my daughter. I will bring my wife and Guy in. I have offered you the hand of Agnes, but it is right that you should ask her mother's consent, although beforehand assured of it."
He left the room, and soon returned with Lady de Burg and Guy.
"My lord has told me," she said, before Wulf could speak, "that you would ask my consent to your marriage with Agnes. I give it you unasked, freely and gladly. I have but one regret--that the seas will divide us."
"Not so," the baron said; "William's court will be held in London, and for years he will reside here far more than in Normandy, and will expect his nobles to be frequently with him. I certainly shall not come alone, and you will therefore have as many opportunities of seeing Agnes as if she were married to a Norman whose estates did not lie near our own."
"I thank you most deeply, Lady de Burg, for the confidence which you show in intrusting your daughter's happiness to me. I swear that with all my might and power I will strive to make her happy, and will spare her to visit you in Normandy whensoever you may wish it."
Guy came forward now and grasped Wulf's hand.
"How I have longed for this time, my brother," he said. "How I have hoped that I might at least live long enough to know that the dearest wish of my heart would be gratified. I can go hence now right willingly when God calls me, knowing that my father and mother have another son to fill my place, and that the happiness of my sister is secured."
"And now, wife, will you fetch Agnes from her chamber," the baron said.
In two or three minutes the baroness returned, leading Agnes, to whom she had told the reason of her summons. The baron stepped forward and took her hand.
"My daughter," he said, "the Thane of Steyning has asked for your hand in marriage, and your mother and I have given our free and full consent, but he would fain know from your own lips that you will come to him willingly."
"I have loved you, Agnes, since while still but a boy I first saw you, and my love has grown ever since. The happiness of my life depends upon your answer, but unless your heart goes with your hand I would rather remain unmarried to my dying day."
The girl had stood with downcast eyes and with flushed face until now. When Wulf ceased speaking she looked up into his face:
"I love you, Wulf; I have always loved you. It is for your sake that I have said no to the suitors of my own race who have sought my hand. I will be a true wife and loving to you."
"Then take her, Wulf," the baron said, placing her hand in his. "You are now her betrothed husband and our adopted son."
Wulf stooped and kissed the girl's lips, and the betrothal was completed. After some talk it was arranged that Wulf should at once journey down to Steyning, assume possession of his new estates, set the house in order, and prepare for their coming. Guy was to accompany him, and as soon as all was in readiness Wulf would come up to London and return with Lord and Lady de Burg and Agnes, who would pay a short visit and all would then cross to Normandy, for the marriage was to take place at their chateau there.
"I was sure how it would be," Osgod said when Wulf told him the news that night. "I should have been blind indeed if I had not seen it long ago. I love not the Normans, but I make exception in the case of Lord de Burg and his family. And truly it will in all respects be a good thing for your tenants. Although the duke, or I suppose I ought to say the king, promises greatly at present, there is no saying what he may do later on; and he has all these locusts to provide for. 'Tis well indeed, then, that there should be a Norman lady as well as an English thane at Steyning."
Wulf's return home gave rise to demonstrations of the greatest joy among his tenants. They had heard nothing of him since the battle, and had deemed him to have fallen with the rest of the defenders of the standard, and had been living in fear of the arrival of some Norman baron to be their lord. Wulf was greatly pleased to find that, although not one of his housecarls had returned from Hastings, the greater portion of his irregular levies had escaped at nightfall with the party who had inflicted so heavy a blow upon their pursuers. For the next few days Wulf was thoroughly occupied. The tenants of his new estates received him almost as joyfully as his own had done, for, like them, they had expected the advent of a Norman master. In one of the two estates that had fallen to him the thane he had succeeded had left no heirs; while the other thane had left a widow and a young family. Wulf arranged that these should remain in their home, receiving for their maintenance half the rents of the estate.
Guy was greatly pleased with the fair country in which his sister's lot was to be cast, but he owned frankly that the house seemed unworthy now of the large estate, and was indeed but a poor place in comparison with the noble chateau in which she had been brought up.
"That shall be remedied, Guy, as soon as matters settle down. I have laid by none of my revenues, for the keeping up of a hundred housecarls has taxed them to the utmost, but now that my income is more than doubled, and this expense has altogether ceased, I shall have funds with which I can soon begin to build. When I was young, Steyning seemed to me a fine house, but after your Norman castles it is indeed but a poor place."
When, a fortnight later, the De Burgs arrived with Wulf, while Agnes expressed herself delighted with the quaintness of the old Saxon home, her father and mother were decidedly of Guy's opinion.
"The house is a good house in its way," the Baron said, "but there will be great changes in the land. Much of it will be transferred to Norman hands, and ere long castles and chateaux like ours at home will rise everywhere, and as an English noble with broad lands it is but fit that your residence should vie with others. But this shall be my care, and shall be my daughter's special dowry. I foresee that it will be long ere matters wholly settle down. Moreover, though William's hand is strong that of his successor may be weak, and in time there will be the same troubles here among the barons that there were in Normandy before William put them down with a strong hand. Therefore, I should say we will build a castle rather than a chateau, for such I am sure will be the style of all the Norman buildings here, until England settles down to peace and quiet. I would not disturb this house, Wulf; it is doubtless dear to you, and will, moreover, serve as a dowager-house or as an abode for a younger son. We will fix on a new site altogether, and there we will rear a castle worthy of the estate. By the way, I have spoken to the king of your betrothal to my daughter, and he is highly pleased. He says that it is his earnest wish that his Norman nobles shall marry English heiresses, both because they will thus come into possession of lands without disturbing the owners, and because such mixture of blood will the more speedily weld the two peoples into one; and that, similarly, he is glad to see a Norman maiden united to an English noble of whom he has so high an opinion."
Fond as Wulf was of his old home he saw that it would be best to abandon it for a new residence more suited to the times and more in accordance with his own increased possessions and the home from which he was taking his wife. After riding round the estates Lord de Burg and he fixed upon a knoll of rising ground near the village of Bramber, and not far from the religious house where Wulf had spent so many evenings, and whose prior had been one of the first to welcome his return.
"I will charter a ship at Rouen," Lord de Burg said, "and send over a master craftsman, skilful in designing and building castles, and a large number of quarrymen, masons, and carpenters. Labour here is scarce, and the men are unskilled at this kind of work. Rough labour can doubtless be obtained, and your tenants can transport the stones from the quarry and dig the fosse. I will send over a goodly number of men. It will cost no more to employ three hundred for six months than fifty for three years."
A week later Wulf sailed for Rouen with the De Burgs Beorn accompanied him, as well as Osgod, to be present at the wedding, which took place at Rouen Cathedral. A month later Wulf returned with his wife to Steyning. Already an army of men were at work at Bramber. The tenants all gave their assistance readily, and far beyond the amount their feudal tenure required, for they saw the advantage it would be to them to have a strong castle in their midst to which they could retire in case of danger. Labourers had been engaged in large numbers from the country round by the master craftsmen. The outlines of the castle had been traced, and the ground dug for its foundations, while already the broad deep fosse which was to surround it had been dug to a depth of several feet. The stones had to be brought from a considerable distance, but as at this time of year there was little work for the carts, those belonging not only to the tenants of the estate, but to the cultivators for miles round were engaged in the service.
In six months a stately pile had risen in the midst of the tranquil glade. When it was ready for occupation Lord and Lady de Burg and their son came over, and great festivities were held when Wulf de Burg (now Lord of Bramber) moved into the castle.
Soon after the birth of their first son Wulf and his wife received a hasty summons to cross the sea, and arrived in time to stand by the death-bed of Guy. Wulf had been greatly moved by the storm of war that had swept over the North of England, and the terrible vengeance taken by William there. He had no pity for the traitor earls, but he grieved for the men who, but for their treachery, would have fought at Hastings. He regretted deeply the isolated risings in various parts of the country, whose only effect was to bring ruin upon whole districts and to increase the sternness and rigour of William's rule.
Wulf's after-life was divided between England and Normandy, as he became a baron of the latter country at the death of Lord de Burg. He fought no more in England, but more than once followed William's banner in his struggles with his rebellious sons and turbulent nobles. He lived to see the animosities between Englishmen and Normans beginning to die out, and to find our kings relying upon sturdy English men-at-arms and bow-men in their struggles with French kings and with the Norman barons who held so large a portion of English soil. Osgod became the seneschal of the castle, and held it for his lord during his absences in Normandy. Wulf took an interest in the fortunes of Ulf, who in the course of time succeeded to the business of Ulred, and became one of the most skilled and famous armourers in London. Beorn married the former heiress of one of the estates William had granted him, and his firm friendship with the Lord of Bramber remained unbroken to the end of their lives.
[THE END]
George Alfred Henty's Book: Wulf the Saxon: A Story of the Norman Conquest
_