PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

71

Some descendants of his succeeded Mm, about whom there is
nothing particular to say, nor about King Edward the Confessor, of
the Saxon race, who succeeded to the throne when the Danish
family failed, and who was canonised by a Pope two hundred years
after his death —his holiness only knows why.

Spooney, my dears, is a strong term, and one which, by a sensitive
female, ought to be employed only occasionally ; but Spooney, I
emphatically repeat (immense sensation), is the only word to cha-
racterise this last of the regular Saxon kings. He spent his time at
church, and let his kingdom go to rack and ruin. He had a pretty
wife, whom he never had the spirit to go near ; and he died, leaving
his kingdom to be taken by any one who could get it.

A strong gallant young fellow, Harold by name, stepped forward,
and put the crown on his head, and vowed to wear it like a man.
Harold was the son of Earl Godwin that we spoke of in the last
lecture, a great resolute fellow, who had been fighting King Edward's
enemies while the king was singing psalms, and praying the saints to
get rid of them, and turned out with a sword in his hand, and a coat
of mail on his body, whilst the silly king staid at home in a hair
shirt, scourging and mortifying his useless old body.

Harold then took the crown (though, to be sure, he had no right to
it, for there was a nephew of the late king, who ought to have been
first served), but he was not allowed to keep undisturbed possession
of it very long, for the fact is, somebody else wanted it.

You all know who this was—no other than William, Duke of
Normandy, a great and gallant prince (though I must say his mother
was no better than she should be *), who had long had a wish to
possess the noble realm of England, as soon as the silly old Confessor
was no more. Indeed, when Harold was abroad, William had told
him as much, making him swear to help him in the undertaking.
Harold swore, as how could he help it ? for William told him he
would have his head off if he didn't, and then broke his oath on the
first opportunity.

Some nine months, then, after Harold had assumed the crown, and
just as he had come from killing one of his brothers, (they were
pretty quarrelsome families, my dears, in those days,) who had come
to England on a robbing excursion, Harold was informed that the
Duke of Normandy had landed with a numerous army of horse, foot,
and marines, and proposed, as usual, to stay.

Down he went as fast as the coach could carry him, (for the Kentish
railroad was not then open,) and found Duke William at Hastings,
where both parties prepared for a fight.

You, my darlings, know the upshot of the battle very well ; and
though I'm a delicate and sensitive female ; and though the Battle of
Hastings occurred—let me see, take 1066 from 1842 —exactly seven
hundred and seventy-six years ago; yet I can't help feeling angry to
think that those beggarly, murderous Erenchmen should have beaten
our honest English as they did.—(Cries of " Never mind, we've given
it 'em since.")—Yes, my dears, Hike that spirit—we have given it'em
since, as the Duke of Wellington at Badajos, and my late lamented
br-r-other, Ensign Samuel T-t-tickletoby, at B-b-bunhill Row, can
testify.—(The lecturer's voice was here choked with emotion, owing
to the early death of the latter lamented hero.)—But don't let us be
too eager for military glory, my friends. Look ! we are angry be-
cause the French beat us eight hundred years ago ! And do you sup-
pose they are not angry because we beat them some five-and-twenty
years back ? Alas ! and alas ! this is always the way with that fight-
ing; you can't satisfy both parties with it, and I do heartily hope that

one day there '11 be no such thing as a soldier left in all Europe_(A

voice, " And no police neither.")

Harold being dead, His Majesty, King William—of whom, as he
now became our legitimate sovereign, it behoves every loyal heart to
speak with respect—took possession of England, and, as is natural,
gave all the good places at his disposal to his party. He turned out
the English noblemen from their castles, and put his Norman soldiers
and knights into them. He and his people had it all their own way ;
and though the English frequently rebelled, yet the king managed to
quell all such disturbances, and reigned over us for one-and-twenty
years. He was a gallant soldier, truly—stern, wise, and prudent, as far
as his own interests were concerned, and looked up to by all other
Majesties as an illustrious monarch.

But great as he was in public, he was rather uncomfortable in
his family, on account of a set of unruly sons whom he had—for their
Koyal Highnesses were always quarrelling together. It is related
that one day being at tea with her Majesty the Queen, and the young
Princes, at one of his castles in Normandy, (for he used this country
to rob it chiefly, and not to live in it,) a quarrel ensued, which was

* Mise Tickletoby's rancour against Edward's treatment of his wife, and her
■seer st the Conqaeror's mother, are characteristic of her amiable sex.

certainly very disgraceful. Fancy, my darlings, three young princes
sitting at tea with their papa and mama, and being so rude as to be-
gin throwing water at one another ! The two younger, H.R.H. Prince
William, and H.R.H. Prince Henry, actually flung the slop-basin, or
some such thing, into the face of H.R.H. Prince Robeit, the King's
eldest son.

H. R. Highness was in a furious rage, although his brothers declared
that they were only in play ; but he swore that they had insulted him ;
that his papa "and mama favoured them and not him, and drawing
his sword, vowed that he would have their lives. His Majesty with
some difficulty got the young princes out of the way, but nothing
would appease Robert, who left the castle vowing vengeance. This
passionate and self-willed young man was called Court-hose, which
means in French short inexpressibles, and he was said to have worn
shorts, because his limbs were of that kind.

Prince Shorts fled to a castle belonging to the King of France, who
was quite jealous of Duke Robert, and was anxious to set his family
by the ears ; and the young Prince began forthwith robbing his
father's dominions, on which that monarch marched with an army to
besiege him in his castle.

Here an incident befel, which while it shows that Prince Robert
(for all the shortness of his legs) had a kind and brave heart, will at
the same time point out to my beloved pupils the dangers—the awful
dangers of disobedience. Prince Robert and his knights sallied out.
one day against the besiegers, and engaged the horsemen of their
party. Seeing a warrior on the other side doing a great deal of exe-
cution, Prince Robert galloped at him sword in hand, and engaged
him. Their vizors were down, and they banged away at each other,
like—like good-uns. (Hear, hear.)

At last Trince Robert hit the other such a blow, that he felled him
from his horse, and the big man tumbling off cried " Oh, murder !" or
" Oh, I'm done for ! " or something of the sort.

Fancy the consternation of Prince Robert when he recognised the
voice of his own father ! He flung himself off his saddle as quick as

his little legs would let him, ran to his father, knelt down before him,
besought him to forgive him, and begged him to take his horse and
ride home. The king took the horse, but I'm sorry to say he only
abused his son, and rode home as sulky as possible.

However he came soon to be in a good humour, acknowledged that
his son Prince Shortlegs was an honest fellow, and forgave him, and
they fought some battles together, not against each other, but riding
bravely side by side.

So having prospered in all his undertakings, and being a great
Prince and going to wage war against the French King, who had