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    The Fall of the Grand Sarrasin Being a Chronicle of Sir Nigel de Bessin, Knight, of Things that Happed in Guernsey Island, in the Norman Seas, in and about the Year One Thousand and Fifty-Seven
    The Fall of the Grand Sarrasin Being a Chronicle of Sir Nigel de Bessin, Knight, of Things that Happed in Guernsey Island, in the Norman Seas, in and about the Year One Thousand and Fifty-Seven
    The Fall of the Grand Sarrasin Being a Chronicle of Sir Nigel de Bessin, Knight, of Things that Happed in Guernsey Island, in the Norman Seas, in and about the Year One Thousand and Fifty-Seven
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    The Fall of the Grand Sarrasin Being a Chronicle of Sir Nigel de Bessin, Knight, of Things that Happed in Guernsey Island, in the Norman Seas, in and about the Year One Thousand and Fifty-Seven

    By Harold Piffard and William John Ferrar

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    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 26, 2013
    The Fall of the Grand Sarrasin Being a Chronicle of Sir Nigel de Bessin, Knight, of Things that Happed in Guernsey Island, in the Norman Seas, in and about the Year One Thousand and Fifty-Seven

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      Book preview

      The Fall of the Grand Sarrasin Being a Chronicle of Sir Nigel de Bessin, Knight, of Things that Happed in Guernsey Island, in the Norman Seas, in and about the Year One Thousand and Fifty-Seven - Harold Piffard

      Project Gutenberg's The Fall Of The Grand Sarrasin, by William J. Ferrar

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

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      Title: The Fall Of The Grand Sarrasin

      Being A Chronicle Of Sir Nigel De Bessin, Knight, Of Things That

      Happed In Guernsey Island, In The Norman Seas, In And About

      The Year One Thousand And Fifty-Seven

      Author: William J. Ferrar

      Release Date: December 3, 2004 [EBook #14245]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FALL OF THE GRAND SARRASIN ***

      Produced by Steven Gibbs, Melissa Er-Raqabi and the Online Distributed

      Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

      THE FALL OF THE GRAND SARRASIN

      BEING A

      CHRONICLE OF SIR NIGEL DE BESSIN, KNIGHT, OF

      THINGS THAT HAPPED IN GUERNSEY ISLAND,

      IN THE NORMAN SEAS, IN AND ABOUT

      THE YEAR ONE THOUSAND

      AND FIFTY-SEVEN.

      BY

      WILLIAM JOHN FERRAR.

      ILLUSTRATED BY HAROLD PIFFARD.

      PUBLISHED UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE GENERAL LITERATURE COMMITTEE.

      LONDON:

      SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE,

      NORTHUMBERLAND AVENUE, W.C.;

      43, QUEEN VICTORIA STREET, E.C.

      BRIGHTON: 129, NORTH STREET.

      NEW YORK: E.S. GORHAM.

      PREFACE.

      Some people bring home a bundle of sketches from their summer holiday—water-colour memories of cliff, of sea, ruined castle, and ancient abbey. I brought back from the Channel Islands these pages here printed, as a kind of bundle of sketches in black and white, put together day by day as a holiday-task, and forming a string, as it were, on which the memories of ramble after ramble were threaded,—rambles from end to end of Guernsey, and rambles, too, among the treasures of the Guille-Allés Library. I enjoyed my holiday all the better, as I peopled the cliffs and glens with the shadows of eight hundred years ago, and I hope that others may find some reality and some pleasure in the result as it is given here.

      If any inquire into the real historical foundations for the story, I refer them to the few notes at the end of the book, which will reveal without much doubt where fiction begins and fact ends. I hope I may be allowed a little license in the treatment of facts. There is—is there not?—a logic of fiction, as well as a logic of facts. At least there seemed to be as I wrote the story, and I hope no one who reads it will be inclined to quarrel with any part of it because its only basis is—imagination. Anyway, I will shelter myself under the great words of a great man, in the preface of one of the great books of the world: "For herein may be seen noble chivalry, courtesy, humanity, friendliness, hardiness, love, friendship, cowardice, murder, hate, virtue, and sin. Do after the good and leave the evil, and it shall bring you to good fame and renommée. And for to pass the time this book shall be pleasant to read in, but for to give faith and belief that all is true that is contained herein, ye be at your liberty: but all is written for our doctrine, and for to beware that we fall not to vice nor sin, but to exercise and follow virtue by the which we may come and attain to good fame and renown in this life, and after this short and transitory life to come unto everlasting bliss in heaven (Preface of William Caxton to The Book of King Arthur").

      W.J. FERRAR.

      CONTENTS.

      HISTORICAL NOTES.

      CHAPTER I.

      Of how I, Nigel de Bessin, was brought up by the monks of the Vale in Guernsey Island, and how on a certain day the abbot gave me choice of two lives, and which I chose.

      This is the chronicle of me, Nigel de Bessin, of good Norman stock, being a cadet of the great house, whose elder branch is even to-day settled at St. Sauveur, in the Cotentin. And I write it for two reasons. First, for the sake of these grandchildren, Geoffrey, Guy, and William, who gather round me in the hall here at Newton, asking for the story of great deeds of old days, such as were the deeds of Tancred and Duke Rollo, and him I loved and fought for—loved, though stern he was and rude—William, who by his mighty conquest gave us our place in this fair realm. And second, since the winter days are long, and I go no more out to hunt or to fight as of old, to recall all this and more will have much sweetness, and delight my old heart with gentle memories, like the smell of lavender laid between robes or napery in the oak press yonder, as one takes this or that from the store.

      And first, how came I to write it in such clerkly wise? Ay, that was through the foresight of my uncle, the Vicomte de Bessin, since I knew not then my father, and the good care of the monks of the Vale, and chiefly of Brother Bernard, a ripe scholar and a good, with whom I progressed so well in learning, that at fifteen I was more like to have put this grissled head under a cowl than under a soldier's helm. A fair place was L'Ancresse in the days of Abbot Michael, false Maugher, and the Grand Sarrasin. And a good school of manners and of learning of books and piety, that may aid men in their earthly life, was the Vale Cloister. I see it now—the quiet, sober place, with its great round arches, and its seats of stone, pleasant and cool in summer, bitter cold in winter, when the wind came in sharp from the Eastern sea, so that we wrapt our Norway furs about us, and shivered as we sat, till Brother Bernard said, Up, lads; catch who catch can up to the Viking's tomb! or Haste ye now, and run to meet the pirates in Bordeaux Bay, and bring them to me to shrive, ere ye do them to death, as Normans should! The blood ran free and warm then, and the limbs grew straight and strong, and the muscles of arms and legs like whipcord, and brown we were as the brown rocks of L'Ancresse Bay, as we played at war on those salt-breathed plains—Guy, Rainauld, Gwalkelyn. Alas! they are all passed to their account! There were no aches or pains of back or shoulder; there were no mean jealousies, no bitter hatreds, no discourtesies, no words that suit not the sons of good knights or lords, but wrestle or tussle and mock battle, and tourney, and race by land or water in summer, when our bodies gleamed white beneath the calm waves as we played like young dolphins in the bay. And ever and anon would Brother Hugo be amongst us, his cowl thrown back, and his keen eagle face furrowed into merriment as he sped on some knightly play—for he himself was a nobleman, and had been a good knight, and a famous name lay hid under that long Benedictine robe. Thus, wondrous peacefully and happily had I been reared with other right princely youths and some of humble lineage in that fair place. And but one unhappiness ever disturbed my joyous spirit. It was that while all had fathers and mothers that loved them, and took pride in their increase in learning year by year, or else had dear memories

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