Notizen zu dieser Person
1 NAME Margaret /Atheling/
2 GIVN Margaret
2 SURN Atheling
2 NSFX Saint
1 _UID 0A344576701241F89AD381538E66F5B795FD
1 _UID 8101F3D24730A94D804B8EFCACD4A4C7F44E
Atheling, Margaret (St.) the Exile
Born: 1045, Hungary Died: 16 NOV 1093, Edinburgh Castle,ScotlandInterred: Dunfermline Abbey, Fife, Scotland Notes: Canonised 1250 and herfeast day is 16th November. In 1057 shearrivedatthe English court ofEdward the Confessor. Ten years later she wasinexileafter Williamdefeated Harold at the Battle of Hastings. She fledtoScotlandwhere shewas married against her wishes to King Malcolm to whom sheboresixsons andtwo daughters. Her unlearned and boorish husband grewdailymoregracefuland Christian under the queen's graceful influence. Her remains wereremoved to Escorial Spain and her head Douai, France.
Father: Atheling, Edward the Outlaw, b. ABT 1016
Mother: , Agatha
Father: Atheling, Edward the Outlaw, b. ABT 1016
Mother: , Agatha
Married 1068, Dunfermline Abbey, Fife, Scotland to , MalcolmIIICaennmorofScotland, King of Scotland
Child 1: , Edward Child 2: , Edmund I of Scotland, King of Scotland Child3: , Ethelred, Abbot of Dunkeld Child 4: , Edgar of Scotland, King ofScotland, b. ABT 1074 Child 5: , Alexander I the Fierce of Scotland, Kingof Scotland, b. 1078 Child 6: , Matilda (Edith) of Scotland, b. 1079/80Child 7: , David I the Saint of Scotland, King of Scotland, b. ABT 1084Child 8: , Mary of Scotland
sole heiress of the Saxon royal line, married Malcolm IIICanmore,KingofScotland, descended from a long line of Scottish royalty.SeetheScottishlineage elsewhere in Volume I. She died in 1093. Theyhadthefollowingchildren:
1. Edward , died November 16, 1093, slain with his father near Alnwick.
2. Edgar, born about 1074, King of Scotland, ascended 1097,diedinJanuary1107. He was absent from Scotland with William RufusinEngland,about1099-1100; with Henry I. in England, about 1101-1102.
3. Edmund.
4. Ethelred, who was bred a churchman and became Aldee, abbot of Dunkeld.
5. Alexander I., the Fierce, born about 1077, KingofScotland,ascendedJanuary 8, 1107, died April 25, 1124. He was absentfromScotlandin theinvasion of Wales in the summer of 1114, and incooperationwithHenry Iof England. He married Sybilla.
6. David I. (St. David), King of Scotland, married Matilda(Maud).Seebelowin the Section on Scottish Kings.
7. Edith - Margaret (Matilda) of Scotland. See below.
8. Mary, died May 31, 1115, married Eustace, Count ofBoulogne.Theywereparents of Matilda, who married Stephen, King of England
grey sky overhead; a cold bitter wind sweeping the spray fromoffthecrestsof the great grey waves; a greyinhospitable-lookinglandstretching northand south. This was what the dimmorning lightshowed tothe eyes of theanxious watchers in the little boatwhich wasbattlingits way along theshores of the Firth of Forth. Truly itwas buta darkoutlook, and thehearts of the little company on board wereasheavilyovershadowed by theclouds of misfortune, doubt, andforeboding,as thegloomy shores werewrapped in their folds of rollingmist. It was a royal burden that thelittle boat bore up the waters oftheFirththat wintry day of wind andmist. Edgar the Etheling, grandsonofEdmondIronside, driven from hiskingdom by the all-conqueringWilliam,had flednorthwards with his motherand two sisters, MargaretandChristina. Somefaithful followers had thrownin their lot with theroyalfugitives, butit was but a small company alltold. No wonder thattheirhearts wereheavy that wintry morning. Obliged toflee from theirowncountry, drivenout of their course by the ragingtempest, whatwelcomeawaited them inthis bleak land, of which they hadheard many asavagetale?
Would they be treated as friends or looked upon asenemies?Theroyalfamily had meant to return to Hungary, where Edgarand hissistershadspent the days of their happy childhood, but the windsandwaveshadproved as furious and unkind as those subjects from whomtheyhadfled,and there seemed nothing to do now but to seeksomelanding-placealongthe rocky shore, some shelter from the pitilessstorm. Among the weary, spent travellers there was one whowascalmanduntroubled, whose face reflected none of the gloom oftheskiesoverhead,on whom the dreary foreboding of the future cast noshadow.Fairandstately as a lily the Princess Margaret stood gazingacrosstheangrywaters, marking the desolate rocky shores, watchingthewhitesea-birdsas they swooped and rose again, as confident andunruffledasone ofthose white birds herself. For Margaret knew that agreaterthananearthly king was with her, and that He, her Lord andMaster,heldthegrey waters and their uncertain fortunes in the hollow ofHishand,ableas ever to calm the winds and waves of this troublesomeworldwiththatcomforting command, 'Peace, be still.'
'To the right, to the right,' shouted a sailor on the look-out;'yonderisalittle bay where methinks we should find shelter and means toland.'
'Ay, if there be no rocks to guard the way,' saidthecaptaincautiously.But nevertheless he turned the boat landwards,andeager eyesscanned theshore as they approached. It seemed indeed ahavenof refuge,a peacefullittle bay, gathered in from the angry waters byalittlewooded arm ofland that guarded it so securely that theroughbreakerswent sweepingpast, and the sandy beach sloped gently down tomeetthelittle dancingwaves, while the wet sand reflected theswoopingwhitewings of thesea-birds that hovered about the shore.
The little company were thankful indeed to land at last, andtofeelthefirm earth under their feet once more. The mist too hadbeguntorollaway, and a gleam of sunshine touched into warmer colourthebarehillsaround. Surely this was a good omen, and they might hopethatthecloudsof their evil fortune were also about to break. It ismorethaneighthundred years since that little company landed attheshelteredcove, andit might seem as if their very names were longsinceforgotten,but afaint memory of far-off romance is still linked totheplace by thenameit bears, Saint Margaret's Hope.
With weary steps the travellers began to journey inland, wheretheyhopedtofind some town or village close by. The few country peopletheymetstaredat them with round eyes of wonder. Who could thesepeoplebe?Theywere without doubt of high rank. Even the King didnot wearsuchfinegarments. The beautiful ladies did not look fit to walksuchroughroads.They must have landed from yon boat which lay in thecovebeneath.Theone thing to be done was certainly to hasten to the courtandtell ofthearrival of the strangers.
Up hill and down dale the little company journeyed on, untilatlastevenMargaret's brave spirit grew weary, and she begged themtorestawhile inone of the green fields, where there was a greatstonethatwould make acomfortable seat for the tired ladies. 'SaintMargaret'sStone' thepeople call it still, and many a poor wayfarer,tiredout withthe trampalong dusty roads, sits and rests there now, as didthePrincessMargaretlong ago.
Perhaps in happier days afterwards, Margaret, looking back,mayhaveoftenthought of that stone when she read the old story of Jacobandhisstonypillow. Had not she, like him a weary fugitive drivenfromhome,chosen astone to rest upon? Had not a golden link withheavenbeenformed theretoo, and had not God's kind angels spread aroundhertheirtender care,leading her into the peaceful paths of lightandhappiness?
It was as they sat resting there that they were startled bythesoundofmany feet approaching, and a company of horsemen wereseencomingtowardsthem. Did they come as friends or enemies, was theswiftthoughtthatpassed through each anxious mind. But fears weresoondispelled bythewords of welcome that greeted them, and the roughmenbehavedthemselvesmost reverently and courteously. They were come inthename oftheirKing, Malcolm of Scotland, to bid the travellerswelcome,they said.Theroyal palace close by at Dunfermline was at theirdisposal.Theirlordhimself was far away in England fighting against theusurper,buthewould ere long be back to give them his own royal welcome.
So with lightened hearts and less weary feet the travellerswenton,andsoon caught sight of the town, built like an eagle's nestuponthesteephillside.
Now the King, Malcolm Canmore or Great Head, had made uphismindtobefriend the fugitive Prince, and to uphold hiscauseagainsttheusurping Norman. He himself knew what it meant to beahomelesswanderer,for when but a boy, the treacherous Macbeth hadseizedhiskingdom, andit was by the strength of his own right armanddauntlesscourage that hehad won back his crown. He had neverforgottenthekindness he hadreceived at the Saxon court at the hands ofEdwardtheConfessor, andperhaps there too he had seen the boy Edgarandhisbeautiful sisterMargaret. Margaret's beauty was not a thing tobelightlyforgotten, andthe Scottish King, with his lionlike headandlionlikenature, had alarge heart which was very easily touched bybeautyof anykind.
It was soon seen, after the King's return to his palaceatDunfermline,thathe loved the gentle Margaret with all the devotionofhis greatheart. Sheseemed to him something so precious, sodelicatelyfair, thathe hardlydared dream of winning her. It was likeroughlyplucking aharebell whichhad bravely lifted its head among thestones onhismountain path, linked toearth only by that slender stemwhich oneroughtouch might break. But hedid most truly love her, and ashis Queenhewould be able to shield andguard from any harm the flower ofhisheart.
Margaret, however, was sorely troubled. This was not thelifeshehadplanned. She had thought to leave behind her the cares andtroublesofacourt, and to find peace and quietness in a convent home,whereshemightserve God. Far away in Hungary, where she had spentherchildhood,and inthe peaceful old home in England, she had loved tolistentostories ofthe lives of the saints, and especially had sheponderedoverthe life ofSaint Margaret, and longed to follow in hernamesake'ssteps.
But there are more ways than one of serving God, and Margaretdimlysawthatperhaps the path beset with most difficulties might be theonethatherMaster would have chosen. It would be sweet to serve Himinthepeacefulshelter of a convent cell, but faithful and bravesoldiersdonot seek thesafest posts, where duties are easy and dangersfew.Theyseek to endurehardness and not ease. To be a good Queen mightbeahigher and moredifficult task than to be a devout nun.
So Margaret at last consented to be wed, and when thefirstprimroseswerebeginning to star the woods, and spring hastened tobreatheasofterwelcome to the English bride, the royal marriagetookplaceatDunfermline in the happy Eastertide.
But although the King had now attained the wish of his heart, hedidnotyetfully understand how pure and precious a gift had beenbestoweduponhim.Not very long after his marriage with Margaret, eviltonguesbegantowhisper secret tales to which the King should never havegivenheed.Theytold how the Queen, when he was absent, stole out fromthepalace tomeethis enemies in a certain cave not very far off inthewoods.
Angry and suspicious, the King determined to find out thetruthofthestory, and one day, pretending to go out to thehunt,hereturnedsecretly to the palace. With a heavy heart he watchedhisfairQueenquietly slip through the postern gate, and make her waythroughthewoodsto the fatal cave. He followed her silently, andwhenshedisappeared,crept close to the opening and listened. Yes, it wastrue!Agreat waveof fury surged up in his heart as he heard the voicehelovedso wellspeaking to some one inside the cave. Too angry to stirforamoment, hestood there listening to the words she spoke; butashelistened a lookof bewilderment flashed across his face, the redflushofanger faded,and he hung his head as if ashamed. For the voiceheheardwas indeedMargaret's, but it was to God she spoke. 'King andLordofall,' sheprayed, ' teach my dear King to serve Thee truly, toloveTheeperfectly,and to walk in Thy light.'
There were no more suspicious thoughts, no more listeningtoevilgossipafter this, but the heart of Malcolm was bound more closelybythegoldenthread of love to his dear Queen, and thus through herwaslinkedto God.
The news of the King's marriage with the beautifulEnglishPrincesswascarried far and near, and the people wondered greatlywhatmannerofQueen she would make. They watched her narrowly, and atfirstwerenotquite sure if her manners and customs were to their liking.Wasitpridethat made this great lady dress herself in such fairrobeskirtlesofrainbow hue that hung in graceful folds, mantles allbroideredwithgaydevices in colours borrowed from the peacock's plumes? Yetastheylooked at their own strong useful garments, grey anddun-colouredasthewintry skies, they allowed that perhaps a littlecheerful touchofcolourmight not come amiss.
Margaret's speech too was soft and courteous, and they werefaintoconfessthat her graciousness won their hearts, almost inspiteofthemselves. Butthey were suspicious at first of all the changesatthecourt. Why, eventhe King himself began to show more kinglymannersandto live in greaterstate. The servants no longer did their workinaslovenly way; the commondrinking- cups and platters werereplacedbysilver goblets and goldendishes. The palace was royallyfurnished;allwas fitly set out and wellordered. And yet the people veryclearlysawthat it could not be pridethat made the gentle Queen insist onallthisstate. They soon found that aself-denying pitiful heart dweltunderhermagnificent robes, that she wasready to give even her owngarmentstoclothe the poor, and if she fed offa golden platter, the foodwasassimple as that of the humblest of theland. But she was a Queen,andthesimple rule of her life was that allthings should befitlyordered.Neither in this did she stop at her ownpalace gates. Thewholekingdomsoon felt the influence of the hand thatcould guideeventhegreat-headed Malcolm.
Many abuses had crept into the ancient Church, and Margaretlongedtosetthese right. It must have been a strange sight to see theQueeninherbeautiful robes, seated in the midst of all the clever menwhentheyweregathered together to talk the matter over. If she was inearnest,sowerethey. Many a frowning black look was cast at themaidenwhodaredsingle-handed to do battle for the right. But MargaretlovedherChurch,and like Sir Galahad 'her strength was as the strengthoften,becauseher heart was pure,' and in the end she triumphed.Littlebylittle, too,she taught her people that Sunday was a holy day, adayofrest for manand beast a lesson sorely needed then, andneversinceforgotten.
So it seemed as if the love of God which dwelt inMargaret'sheartwasalready bringing light into the dark places, and makingthecrookedwaysstraight, and she rejoiced to find that she could serve Himintheworldas well as in the cloister.
It soon became known that any one in want or in trouble wouldfindafriendin the new Queen. Her pitiful heart was linked to ahelpfulhand,and noone was ever turned empty away. Many were the ransomsshepaid forpoorEnglish prisoners carried off captive in the fierce raidsoftheScots.Widows and orphans flocked to the court, sure that theQueenwouldalwaysbefriend them in their distress.
Sometimes the King would laugh, and say that none ofhispossessionsweresafe from those hands that were so ready to give. Whenherpursewasempty, the Queen would take off one of her own garmentstoclothesomeshivering beggar, and when money was needed she would dipherhandsintothe King's private store of gold, well knowing thathegrudgedhernothing.
'Aha! I have caught thee now,' he cried one day as hefoundherhurryingfrom his treasure chest with well-filled hands. 'What andifIhave theearrested, tried, and found guilty of robbery?'
Margaret smiled as she looked up into those kind laughing eyes.
'I plead guilty at once,' she said, holding out the gold.
'Nay, dear heart,' said the King, closing her fingersoverthegoldenpieces. 'Thou canst not steal what is already thine own.Allthat Ihave,thou knowest, is thine.'
How truly the great rough King loved this gentlemaiden!Everythingshetouched, everything she loved, was sacred to him.Often hewould liftthebooks she had been using, and although he could notread thewordssheloved, he would hold the volumes lovingly in his greatstronghands,and,half ashamed, would bend to kiss the covers which herhandshadtouched.Nothing, he thought, was quite good enough for hisQueen.Hecould notbear that even the bindings of her books should be onlyofroughleather,and when he found a cunning worker in metals, he wouldhavethecoversoverlaid with gold and precious stones, and with manyaroundwhitepearl, fit emblem of his Margaret, the Pearl of Queens.
It was one of these precious books, a book of thegospels,whichMargaretloved above all the rest. Not only was its jewelledcover atokenof theKing's love, but the precious words inside werefitlyilluminatedwithgolden letters, and there were pictures of thefourEvangelists mostfairto look upon.
Now it happened that one day when Margaret wasjourneyingfromDunfermline,a careless servant, who carried the book, letit slipfromits wrappingsinto the midst of a river which they werefording. Themandid not perceivethat the book was lost, and thought nomore of ituntilcalled upon by theQueen to deliver his precious burden.Longandsorrowfully he sought forit, retracing carefully each step hehadcomeuntil at last he reached theriver. Then he grew hopeless indeed.Ifitshould have fallen into thestream, it would mean the end oftheQueen'sprecious book. Ah ! it was tootrue; there, in a clear stretchofwater,where the ripples scarcelystirred the surface, he saw the gleamofwhiteparchment as the leaves weregently stirred to and fro bythemovingwater. He bent down and lifted itcarefully, and holding it safeinhishands, he gazed with wonder at theopen leaves. The littlecoveringsofsilk which protected the goldenletters had been loosened andsweptaway,but upon the pages themselvesthere was not a stain or blur. Notasingleletter was washed out; the fairilluminated pictures were asclearandunspoiled as ever; the gold shoneundimmed upon the purewhiteparchmentleaves; the water had not injuredone of the precious wordsoftheQueen's book.
It was not only with money, her own or the King's, thatMargarethelpedthepoor. She served them with her own hands as well. EarlyeachmorningtheQueen, in her dainty robes, as fair as the dew-washedflowersthatwerejust lifting their faces to the morning sun, came forthfromherroom,where she too had been lifting her face to heaven. It washerwayto beginher daily work by caring for the little children who hadnooneelse tocare for them. Nine baby orphans were gathered there,pooranddestitute,and it always seemed to her as if her Master was soclosethatshe couldalmost hear His voice as He bade her 'Feed Mylambs.'Howjoyfully thebabies stretched out their hands towards her,clutchingatthe bonnycoloured robe she wore with their little eagerhands.Allchildren lovefair colours, but it was not only thegreenembroideredkirtle, no, nor thesteaming breakfast which she brought,thatmade themstretch out their armsto her. There was a kind mother smileinher eyeswhich drew them to her asif by magic, and as she gatheredthemby turnsinto her loving arms, theywere perfectly happy. Then the bowlofsoftwarm food was placed at herside, and one by one she fedeachlittleorphan baby with her own goldenspoon.
Later on each day there were gathered three hundred poorhungrypeopleinthe royal hall, and there the King, as well as the Queen,fedthemandwaited on them, giving to each the help theyneeded.Margaretneverwearied of her work, for in helping the poor was shenotwaitingupon herMaster? And as she knelt to wash the feet ofsomepoor beggar,was shenot washing the dust-stained weary feet of Him whohadsaid 'Inasmuch asye have done it unto one of the least of thesemybrethren, yehave doneit unto Me.'
But there was other work besides caring for the poorthatfilledMargaret'sdays. As time went on, God sent her children of herowntocare for sixbrave strong boys and two fair littlemaidens.Verycarefully and verystrictly were the children trained. Justbecausetheywere princes andprincesses, they needed even more than otherstolearnto be obedient,gentle, brave and true. No one knew betterthanMargaretthe truth of theold motto 'noblesse oblige.' Just as the handofthegardener, who loveshis garden, pulls up and destroys all theweeds,andprunes away everythingthat hinders the growth of his flowers,sothewise Queen tended herchildren, her special flowers. Thus it wasthatasher boys grew tall andstrong and handsome, and her twolittlemaidensbecame fair graceful women,it was not only the outwardappearancethatmade such a brave show. In thegarden of their hearts therewere noevilweeds of selfishness, self-willand pride, but only theflowersofgenerosity, pity, self-forgetfulness,and the sovereignherbofobedience.
The gracious influence of the Queen was felt outside herhouseholdtoo,andthe people around the court began to try and introducetheQueen'swaysinto their homes, and even to clothe themselves ingayercoloursthan theirdull grey homespuns.
They were a hardy warlike people, as strong and rugged astheirowngrimgrey mountain rocks, as wild and fearless as themountainstreamsthatcame dashing down through the moorland waste.
But there are times when the mountains are no longer grimandgrey,buttender and soft, in the blue haze that shows each peakagainstaprimrosesky; when the mountain torrents sink into merrymurmuringburnsdancingalong between the banks of fern and heather; whenthebaremoorlands area glory of purple and gold as the heather mergesintotheautumn-tintedbracken. So these rugged northern folk had alsotheirsofterside, anddeep in their hearts they felt the charm of faircoloursand allthingsgracious and beautiful.
The merchants that came from all lands, bringing their waresatthebiddingof the Queen, found the people eager and willing tobuy.Indeed,it is saidby some that it was this love of colour,introducedbyMargaret, which wasthe origin of the Scottish tartans.
'But why,' asked the Queen, 'should we buy foreign wares?Whynotweavethese softer fairer stuffs ourselves?'
'The people know not the art of weaving such stuffs,'repliedhercourtiers.
'Then they shall learn,' replied the Queen. 'They have as goodbrainsandasdeft hands as any of these foreigners, why should they notweaveaswell asothers ? I will see that my people are taught theart.'
The Queen was as good as her word, and sent abroad for workerstoteachherpeople at Dunfermline how to weave the fair white linen,givingthemthusan industry which has lasted to this day.
But into this peaceful life of tending the poor, watchingoverherchildrenand her people, sewing her wondrous embroideriesandfoundingmany churchesto the glory of God, there came many a drearytimeofanxiety and distress.Malcolm the King loved his peaceful home,buthisstrong brave arm wasoften needed to defend his country andprotecthispeople, and many ananxious hour did Margaret spend while hewentforthto fight the enemy. Hertwo elder boys, Edward and Edgar, wentwiththeirfather now, and that madethe anxiety even harder to bear.
Then came a time when it was more difficult than ever forMargarettobebrave and fearless. She was weak and ill, and the fearofsomecalamityseemed to hang around her like a thick cloud. It was inthemonthofJune, when tardy Spring was in no haste to make roomforhersisterSummer, that the Queen sat alone in the castle ofEdinburghprayingforthe safe return of her dear King and their two bravesons.Butyesterdaythey had set out with blare of trumpets and roll ofdrumstopunish theinvader who had dared to seize their castle ofAlnwick,butalready itseemed as if she had waited and watched for months.
Margaret did not greatly love the rugged castle ofScotland~scapital.Itwas but a gloomy place compared to the dear homeatDumfermline,butstill she made it homelike too. Its old name, theMaydynorMaidenCastle, with its legend of Sir Galahad, pleased theQueen'sfancyeven ifthe place was somewhat rough. Often, as she sat gazingfromtherockyheight over the mistwrapped town to where the line oftheForthshowedlike a silver thread, and across to where the greatlionofArthur's Seatand the Crags stood guard on one side of thecity,shepictured thecoming of the perfect knight. She saw him ride upthesteephillside andenter the ruined chapel there. She watched him ashekneltbeside thealtar praying for guidance, and heard too the voicethatbadehim ride onuntil he came to a great castle where manygentlemaidenswereimprisoned.
'There too thou shalt find a company of wickedknights,'continuedthevoice. 'Them thou shalt slay, and set the MaydynCastle free.'
The Maydyn Castle was but a rough home for Queen Margaret,buteventherethere were marks of her gracious presence. A littlestonechapelwasbuilt upon the rock, and amidst the clang of weapons andsoundsofwar,the peaceful prayers of the Queen rose like sweet incensetoheaven.
It was with difficulty that the Queen had managed to walkwithfeeblestepsto the little chapel that sad June day; and as she prayedforthesafety ofher dear ones, who had ridden forth to meet dangeranddeath,somethingseemed to tell her that they would never return. Shefeltas ifeven nowmisfortune was descending like a thick cloud uponthesmilingland.
Her friend and counsellor Turgot, who writes the story ofhisQueen,tellshow, when she had left the chapel, she turned to him andsaidwithsadconviction: 'Perhaps on this very day such a heavycalamitymaybefall therealm of Scotland as has not been for ages past.'
It was while she was speaking these very words of sad forebodingthatatthecastle of Alnwick the heavy calamity had indeed fallen.
The gallant Malcolm with his two sons riding at the head ofhismenhadreached the castle and called upon the garrisontosurrender.TheScottish army was encamped below the castle, waiting tomaketheattackshould the garrison refuse to yield. While they waited,asingleunarmedknight rode out from the castle gate, carrying onlyhislongspear, onthe point of which hung the heavy keys of thecastlestronghold.
I come to surrender,' he cried as he reached the camp. 'LetyourKingcomeforth to receive at our hands the keys of his fortress.'
There was no thought of treachery, and Malcolm with his visor upcameouttomeet the knight. As the King advanced the knight rodeforward,andwith asudden swift movement, lowered his spear and droveitspointstraight intothe eye of the King, piercing to his brain andkillinghimon the spot.
Then all was uproar and confusion. The infuriated Scotschargedupontheenemy. Edward, the eldest son, rushing forward to avengehisfathersdeath, was also slain. Little wonder that the heart thatlovedthembothso dearly should feel the stroke, although far away.
With their King killed and their leaders gone, theScottishsoldierslostheart, and were at last beaten back and utterlyrouted. Therewas nooneleft even to seek for the King's body, and it wasleft totwopoorpeasants to find it, and to carry it away in a cart toTynemouth.
Four days passed before the news slowly travelled to theMaydynCastleatEdinburgh, and it was Edgar, the second son, who broughtthetidingstohis dying mother.
She was lying peaceful and untroubled now, clasping inherhandthatwonderful 'Black Cross' which she loved so dearly. It wasthecrosswhichshe had brought with her from England when she came apoorfugitive.Madeof pure gold and set with great diamonds, it held initsheartsomethingmore precious still a tiny splinter of her Lord'strueCross. Itwas herdearest possession, the most precious heirloom whichsheleft tohersons, the youngest of whom, when he became King,'builtamagnificentchurch for it near the city, called Holy-Rood.'
The poor boy Edgar was almost heart-broken as he stood byhismother'sbed.His father and brother were slain, enemies werealreadygatheringround thecastle, and his beloved mother lay here, sickuntodeath. Hedared not tellher the direful news, lest it should snapthesilver cordof life whichalready was worn so frail.
But his mother's eyes sought his, and he bent down tocatchherfeeblewords.
'Is it well with thy father? Is it well with thy brother?'
It is well,' replied the boy bravely.
I know it, my boy,' she whispered with a sigh, ' I know it.Bythisholycross, by the bond of our blood, I adjure thee to tell methetruth.'
Then the boy knelt by her side and very gently and tenderly toldherthesadtidings. He need not have feared that the news wouldgreatlytroubleher.The veil had grown so thin that she could almost seeint
2 _PREF Y
1 _UID CC6F67F16F24BC45AFA180BA9153044AE3B5
1 REFN M5623
Thomas
Schäfer
