THE FIRST,

_Sirnamed Conquerour_.

Robert Duke of _Normandie_, the sixth in descent from _Rollo_, riding

through _Falais_ a towne in _Normandie_, espied certaine yong persons

dauncing neere the way. And as he stayed to view a while the maner of

their disport, he fixed his eye especially vpon a certaine damosell

named _Arlotte_; of meane birth, a Skinners daughter, who there daunced

among the rest. The frame and comely carriage of her body, the naturall

beautie and graces of her countenance, the simplicitie of her rurall

both behauiour and attire pleased him so well, that the same night he

procured her to be brought to his lodging; where he begate of her a

sonne, who afterward was named _William_.

I will not defile my writing with memory of some lasciuious behauiour

which she is reported to haue vsed, at such time as the Duke approched

to embrace her. And doubtfull it is, whether vpon some speciall note of

immodestie in herselfe, or whether vpon hate towards her sonne, the

English afterwards adding an aspiration to her name (according to the

naturall maner of their pronouncing) termed euery vnchast woman

_Harlot_.

It is remembred by some, rather seruile then fond in obseruations, who

will either finde or frame predictions for euery great action or euent;

that his mother before the time of her deliuery had a dreame, that her

bowels were extended ouer _Normandie_ and _England_. Also, that at the

time of his birth, he fell from his mothers body to the ground; and

there filled both his hands with rushes, which had bene cast thicke vpon

the floore, and streined them with a very streit gripe. The wiues

laughed at large, and soone grew prodigall of idle talke. But the

Midwife somewhat more soberly said; That he should not onely hold well

his owne, but graspe somewhat from other men.

When he was about 9. yeeres of age, his father went vpon deuotion to

_Hierusalem_; and in his returne died at the Citie of _Nice_. So

_William_ at that age succeeded his father; hauing then very generous

and aspiring spirits, both to resist abroad, and to rule at home. Hee

was committed to the gouernment of two of his vnckles; and the French

King was entreated by his father to take vpon him the protection, both

of his person and State. But his vnckles pretended title to his

dignitie, by reason of his vnlawfull birth; the King of France also

desired much and had often attempted to reduce _Normandie_ to his

absolute subiection, as it was before the inuasion of the _Normans_. So

as it may seeme he was committed to these Tutors, as a Lambe should be

committed to the tutelage of wolues. The onely meanes of his

preseruation consisted in a factious Nobilitie, deuided into so many

parts, as there were parties: Some contending for possession of the yong

Dukes person; others, of his authoritie and power; all of them

incompatible to endure either equals, or els superiours: All of them

vnited against a common enemie; all deuided among themselues.

Here it may be demanded how he being vnlawfully borne, could succeed his

father in the dutchie of _Normandie_; his father leauing two brothers

borne in lawfull marriage, and much other legitimate kindred behind him.

_Will. Malmesburie_[5] and some others haue reported, that albeit hee

was borne out of marriage, yet Duke _Robert_ his father did afterwards

entertaine his mother for lawfull wife: which by the Law of that

Countrey, agreeable in that point to the Ciuill and Canon Lawes,

sufficed to make the issue inheritable, although borne before.

And further, it was a generall custome at that time in France, that

bastards did succeed, euen in dignities of highest condition, no

otherwise then children lawfully begotten. _Thierrie_ bastard of

_Clouis_, had for his partage with the lawfull children of the same

_Clouis_, the Kingdome of _Austrasie_, now called _Lorraine_.

_Sigisbert_ bastard of King _Dagobert_ the first, had his part in the

Kingdome of France, with _Clouis_ the 12. lawfull sonne to _Dagobert_.

_Loys_ and _Carloman_ bastards of King _Loys le Begue_, succeeded after

the death of their father. So likewise in _England_, _Alfride_ bastard

sonne of _Oswine_, succeeded his brother _Egfride_. So _Adelstane_ the

bastard sonne of _Edward_ the elder, succeeded his father, before

_Edmund_ and _Eldred_ his yonger brothers; notwithstanding they were

lawfully begotten. So _Edmund_, surnamed the _Martyr_, Bastard sonne to

King _Edgar_, succeeded him in the state, before _Ethelbred_ his lawfull

issue. Afterward, _Harold_ surnamed _Harefoote_, bastard to _Canutus_,

succeeded him in the kingdome, before _Hardicanutus_, his lawfull sonne.

The like custome hath been obserued in _Spaine_, in _Portugale_, and in

diuers other countreys. And it is probable that this vse was grounded

vpon often experience, that bastards (as begotten in the highest heate

and strength of affection) haue many times been men of excellent proofe,

both in courage and in vnderstanding. This was verified[6] in

_Hercules_, _Alexander_ the Great, _Romulus_, _Timotheus_, _Brutus_,

_Themistocles_, _Arthur_: in _Homer_, _Demosthenes_, _Bion_,

_Bartholus_, _Gratian_, _Peter Lumbard_, _Peter Comestor_, _Io.

Andreas_, and diuers of most flourishing name: among whom our

_Conquerour_ may worthily be ranged.

And yet in the third race of the Kings of _France_ a law was made, that

bastards should not inherite the Crowne of the Realme. This custome was

likewise banished out of _England_, and other countreys of _Europe_.

Notwithstanding in _France_, other bastards of great houses were still

aduowed.

The exercises of this Duke from his verie youth were ingenuous, manly,

decent, & such as tended to actiuitie and valure: Hee was of a working

minde and vehement spirit, rather ambitious then onely desirous of

glory: of a piercing wit, blind in no mans cause, and well sighted in

his owne: of a liuely and present courage; neither out of ignorance, or

rash estimation of dangers, but out of a true iudgement both of himselfe

and of them. In peace he was politicke: In warre valiant and very

skilfull, both to espie, and to apprehend, and to follow his aduantages:

this valure and skill in militarie affayres, was alwayes seconded with

good successe. He was continually accustomed both to the weight and vse

of armour, from his very childhood. Oftentimes hee looked death in the

face with a braue contempt. He was neuer free from actions of armes;

first vpon necessity to defend himselfe, afterwards vpon ambition to

offend and disturbe the possessions of others.

In his first age he was much infested with rebels in _Normandie_; who

often conspired both against his life, and against his dignitie and

State; traducing him, as a bastard, as a boy, as borne of a base ignoble

woman, as altogether vnworthy to be their Prince. Of these, some he

appeased and reconciled vnto him: others he preuented, and dispersed

their power before it was collected: others hee encountred in open

field, before he had any haire vpon his face; where hee defeated their

forces in full battell, then tooke their strongholds, and lastly chased

them out of his dominion.

And first _Roger Tresnye_, hauing gained exceeding great both fauour and

reputation by his seruices against the _Sarasins_ in _Spaine_, made

claime to the duchie of _Normandie_; as one lawfully descended from

_Rollo_ their first Duke. And albeit many others were before him in

title, yet (said he) if they will sit still; if they, either through

sloath, which is ill, or through feare, which is worse, will abandone

the aduenture, he alone would free the _Normans_ from their infamous

subiection. He was followed by many, partly vpon opinion of his right,

but chiefly of his valour. But when he brought his cause to the

arbitrement of Armes, hee was ouerthrowne in a strong battaile, wherein

his claime and his life determined together.

After this, _William_ Earle of _Arques_, sonne to _Richard_ the second,

and vnckle to Duke _William_, vpon the same pretence declared himselfe

against his nephew. And albeit the _Normans_ were heauie to stirre in

his fauour, yet hee so wrought with the French King, by assuring him

great matters in _Normandie_; that with a mightie armie of his owne

people, hee went in person, to place him in possession of that dutchy.

The way which the King tooke, led him to a large valley, sandie and full

of short bushes and shrubs; troublesome for horsemen either to fight or

to march. On either side were rising hils, very thicke set with wood.

Here the Armie entred with small aduisement, either for clearing the

passage, or for the safetie of their carriages. The Vaward consisted

chiefly of battle-axes and pikes. In the right wing were many _Almans_

among the _French_. In the left were many of _Aniou_ and _Poictou_.

After these followed the baggage, with an infinite number of scullians,

carters and other base drudges attending vpon it. Next came the French

King with the maine battaile, consisting for the most part of valiant

and worthy Gentlemen, brauely mounted. The lances and men at Armes

cloased the Rereward.

When they were well entred this valley, the _Normans_ did liuely charge

vpon them in head; they deliuered also their deadly shot from the hils

on both sides, as thicke as haile. Notwithstanding the Vantgard, casting

themselues into a pointed battaile in forme of a wedge, with plaine

force of hand made themselues way; and marching in firme and close order

through the thickest of their enemies, gained (albeit not without great

losse) the top of a hill, and there presently encamped themselues. The

like fortune happily might the residue haue had, if they had followed

with the like order and courage. But failing herein, the right wing was

hewed in pieces: the left wing was broken and beaten vpon the carriages;

where ouerbearing and treading downe one an other, they receiued almost

as much hurt from themselues, as they did from their enemies. The maine

battaile and Rereward aduancing forward to rescue the carriage, were

first miserably ouerwhelmed with a storme of arrowes from the hill on

both sides: and the gallant horses once galled with that shot, would no

more obey or endure their riders; but flinging out, either ouerthrew or

disordred all in their way. And the more to encrease the miserie of that

day, the dull and light sand which was raised, partly by the feete of

horses and men, and partly by violence of the wind, which then blew full

in the faces of the _French_, inuolued them all as in a thicke and darke

cloud; which depriued them of all foresight and direction in gouerning

their affaires. The valiant was nothing discerned from the coward, no

difference could be set betweene contriuance and chance: All laboured in

one common calamitie, and euery one encreased the feare of his fellow.

The _Normans_ hauing well spent their shot, and perceiuing the _French_

in this sort both disordered and dismayed, came downe from the hils

where they houered before; and falling to the close stroke of

battaile-axe and sword, most cruelly raged in the blood of their

enemies. By whom if any sparke of valour was shewen, being at so great

disaduantage, it was to no purpose, it was altogether lost; it was so

farre from relieuing others, that it was not sufficient to defend

themselues. And doubtlesse no thing so much fauoured the state of the

_French_ that day, as that the number of the _Normans_ sufficed not to

enclose them behind. For then they had bene entrapped as Deere in a

toile; then not one of them could haue escaped. But the entrance of the

valley remayning open, many fled backe to the plaine ground; tumbling

together in such headlong hast, that if the _Normans_ had sharply put

vpon them the chase, it is certaine that they had bene extreemely

defeated. But the Duke gaue ouer the execution vpon good aduise. For

knowing himselfe not to be of force vtterly to vanquish the _French_, he

assayed rather by faire forbearance to purchase their friendship.

Here the French king assembled his broken companies, and encamped them

for that night so well as he could. The ioy of their present escape

expelled for the time all other respects. But after a little breathing,

their remembrance began to runne vpon the losse of their cariages;

whereby they had lost all meanes to refresh themselues. Of their Vaward

they made a forelorne reckoning, and the like did the Vaward of them.

Many were wounded, all wearied; and the _Normans_ gaue notice by

sounding out their instruments of warre, that they were at hand on euery

side. The rudest of the Souldiers did boldly vpbraid this infortunitie

to the King; one asked him where his Vaward was, where were his wings,

where were the residue of his battell, and Rereward. Others called for

the cariages, to preserue those in life who had not been slaine. Others

demanded if he had any more mouse-traps to leade them into. But most

sate heauy and pensiue, scarce accounting themselues among the liuing.

The King swallowed downe all with a sad silence, sometimes he dissembled

as though he had not heard; sometimes hee would fairely answere; _Good

words, good souldiers; haue patience a while, and all will be well_:

which was indeede a truer word then he thought it possible to bee when

he spake it.

In this extremity the King assembled the chiefe of his commanders, to

aduise with them what was best to be done. It was generally concluded,

that in staying their case was desperate; and dangerous it was to

stirre. But here lay the question; whether it was least dangerous to

remoue together, or euery man to shift for himselfe. Whilest this point

was in debating, whilest they expected euery minute to be assailed,

whilest no man saw any thing but death and despaire; behold, a messenger

came from the Duke, not to offer but to desire peace; and to craue

protection of the French king, according to the trust which _Robert_ the

Dukes father reposed in him. There needed not many words to perswade.

Peace was signed, protection assured, in a more ample maner then it was

required. Then the messenger with many good words appeased the Kings

heauinesse, telling him, that his Vaward was safe, his cariages not

touched, and that he should be furnished with horses both for burthen

and draught, in stead of those that had been slaine. These words, as a

sweete enchantment, rauished the _French_ King with sudden ioy. But when

they came to gather vp their baggage, a spectacle both lamentable and

loathsome was presented vnto them. The valley couered, and in some

places heaped with dead bodies of men and horses: many not once touched

with any weapon, lay troden to death, or else stifled with dust and

sand: many grieuously wounded, reteined some remainder of life, which

they expressed with cries and groanes: many not mortally hurt, were so

ouerlaid with the slaine, that they were vnable to free themselues:

towards whom it is memorable, what manly both pitie and helpe the

_Normans_ did affoord. And so the _French_ King more by courtesie of his

enemies, then either by courage or discretion of his owne, returned in

reasonable state to _Paris_.

Vpon these euents of open hostilitie, _Guy_ Earle of _Burgogne_, who had

taken to wife _Alix_, daughter to Duke _Richard_ the second, and Aunt to

Duke _William_, conspired with _Nicellus_ president of _Constantine_,

_Ranulph_ Vicecount of _Bayon_, _Baimond_, and diuers others, suddenly

to surprise the Duke, and slay him in the night. A certaine foole,

(nothing regarded for his want of wit) obseruing their preparations,

secretly got away, and in the dead of the night came to _Valogne_, where

the Duke then lay; no lesse slenderly guarded with men, then the place

it selfe was sleight for defence. Here he continued rapping at the

gate, and crying out, vntill it was opened, and hee brought to the

presence of the Duke. To whom he declared the conspiracie, with

circumstances of such moment, that the Duke foorthwith tooke his horse,

and posted alone towards _Falais_, an especial place for strength for

defence. Presently after his departure the conspirators came to

_Valogne_, they beset the house, they enter by force, they search euery

corner for the Duke: And finding that the game was start, and on foote,

in hote haste they pursued the chase.

About breake of day the Dukes horse tired, and he was ignorant of his

right way. He was then at a little village called _Rie_, where the

chiefe Gentleman of the place was standing at his doore ready to goe

abroad. Of him the Duke enquired the next way to _Falais_. The Gentleman

knew the Duke, and with all duetie and respect desired to know the cause

of his both solitarie and vntimely riding. The Duke would willingly haue

passed vnknowne; but perceiuing himselfe to be discouered, declared to

him the whole aduenture. Hereupon the Gentleman furnished him with a

fresh horse, and sent with him two of his sonnes to conduct him the

direct way to _Falais_.

No sooner were they out of sight, but the conspirators came, and

enquired of the same Gentleman (who still remained at his doore) whether

he saw not the Duke that morning: as if, forsooth, they were come to

attend him. The Gentleman answered, that he was gone a little before,

and therewith offered them his company to ouertake him. But he lead them

about another way, vntill the Duke was safely alighted at _Falais_. And

thus the more we consider these and the like passages of affaires, the

lesse we shall admire either the wisdome, or industry, or any other

sufficiencie of man. In actions of weight it is good to employ our best

endeuours; but when all is done, he danceth well to whom Fortune doeth

pipe.

When the conspirators vnderstood that their principall purpose was

disappointed, they made themselues so powerfull in the field, that the

Duke was enforced to craue ayde of the King of _France_; who not long

before was his greatest enemie. The King preferring to his remembrance

the late honourable dealing of the Duke, came in person vnto him; by

whose countenance and aide the Duke ouerthrew his enemies in a full

battell, in the vale of _Dunes_: albeit not without great difficultie,

and bold aduenture of his owne person. _Guy de Burgogne_ escaped by

flight, and defended himselfe in certaine castles which he had fortified

in _Normandie_ for his retreite; but in the end hee rendred both

himselfe and them to the Dukes discretion. The Duke not onely pardoned

him, but honoured him with a liberall pension; which he did afterward

both with valiant and loyall seruice requite.

Not long after, the French King had wars against _Ieoffrey Martell_, and

Duke _William_ went with a faire companie of Souldiers to his ayde. In

this seruice he so wel acquited himselfe, both in iudgement and with

hand, that the French King was chiefly directed by him; onely blaming

him for too carelesse casting himselfe into the mouth of dangers;

imputing that to ostentation, which was but the heate of his courage and

age. Oftentimes hee would range from the maine battell with very fewe in

his company; either to make discoueries, or to encounter such enemies as

could not bee found with greater troupes. Once hee withdrew himselfe

onely with foure, and was met with by fifteene of the enemies. The most

forward of them he strake from his horse, and brake his thigh with the

fall. The residue hee chased foure miles; and most of them being hurt,

tooke seuen prisoners. Hereupon _Ieoffrey Martell_ then said of him;

that he was at that time the best souldier, and was like to prooue the

best commander in the world.

And as hee was both fauourable and faithfull towards them who fairely

yeelded, so against such as either obstinately or scornefully caried

themselues, he was extreamely seuere, or rather cruell. When hee

besieged _Alencon_, which the Duke of _Aniou_ had taken from him, the

defendants would often crie from the walles, _La pel, La pel_;

reproaching him thereby with the birth of his mother. This base

insolencie, as it enflamed both his desire and courage to atchieue the

enterprise, so did it his fury, to deale sharpely with them when they

were subdued; by cutting off their hands and feete; and by other

seuerities which were not vsuall.

Besides these, some others of his owne blood prouoked _Engelrame_ Earle

of _Ponthieu_ to moue against him in armes: but the Duke receiued him

with so resolute valour, that the Earle was slaine in the field, and

they well chastised who drew him to the enterprise. The _Britaines_ did

often feele the force of his victorious armes. Hee had many conflicts

with _Ieoffrey Martell_ Earle of _Aniou_, confederate with the Princes

of _Britane_, _Aquitaine_, and _Tours_; a man equall vnto him both in

power and in skill to command, but in fortune and in force of arme much

inferiour. Many excellent atchieuements were performed betweene them;

insomuch as their hostilitie seemed onely to bee an emulation in honour.

Once the Duke fell into an ambushment addressed for him by the Earle of

_Aniou_; wherewith he was so suddenly surprized, that he was almost in

the midst of the danger before he thought any danger neere him. An

exceeding great both terrour and confusion seazed vpon his souldiers;

because the more sudden and vncertaine a perill is, the greater is it

alwayes esteemed. Many of his brauest men were slaine; the residue so

disordered, or at least shaken, as they began to thinke more of their

particular escape, then of the common either safety or glory.

When they were thus vpon the point to disband, the Duke rather with

rage then courage cried vnto them, _If you loue me not Souldiers, yet

for shame follow me; for shame stand by mee; for shame let not any of

your friends heare the report, that you ran from mee and left me

fighting._ With that he threw himselfe into the thickest throng of his

enimies, and denounced those either traitours or cowards who would not

follow. This example breathed such braue life into his Souldiers, that

they rallied their loose rankes, and in close order seconded him with a

resolute charge: encouraging one another, that it was shameful indeede

not to fight for him, who so manfully did fight with them. The Duke

brandishing his sword like a thunderbolt, dung downe his enemies on

euery side; made at Earle _Martell_ in the midst of his battallion,

strake him downe, claue his helmet, and cut away one of his eares. This

so diuerted the _Aniouans_ to the rescue of their Earle, that they let

the other part of the victorie goe. The Earle they recouered againe to

horse, and so left the Duke master of the field. Verely, it is almost

impossible, that a commander of such courage should haue, either faint

or false hearted Souldiers.

Now it happened not long before, that _Fulc_ Earle of _Aniou_ hauing

drawen _Herbert_ Earle of _Maine_ vnder faire pretenses to _Xantonge_,

cast him in prison, from whence he could not be released vntill he had

yeelded to certaine conditions, both dishonourable and disaduantageable

vnto him. _Hugh_ succeded _Herbert_; from whom _Ieoffrey Martell_ Earle

of _Aniou_ tooke the citie of _Maine_, and made himselfe lord of all the

countrey. _Hugh_ hauing lost his dominion, left both his title and his

quarrell to his sonne _Herbert_: who hauing no issue, appointed Duke

_William_ to bee his heire. Hereupon the Duke inuaded _Maine_, and in

short time subdued the whole countrey, and built two fortifications for

assurance thereof; hauing first sent word to the Earle of _Aniou_, vpon

what day the worke should begin. The Earle vsed all diligence and means

to impeach the buildings; but hee not onely failed of that purpose, but

further lost the countie of _Medune_.

Againe, _Henry_ King of _France_ did many other times with great

preparation inuade his Countrey; sometimes with purpose to winne vpon

him, and sometimes to keepe him from winning vpon others. Vpon a time

the King led his troupes ouer the foord of _Dine_; and when halfe his

army had passed, the other halfe by reason of the rising of the Sea, was

compelled to stay. The Duke apprehending the aduantage, came vpon them

with a furious charge, being now deuided from the chiefe of the Armie;

and either slew them or tooke them prisoners, in the plaine view of

their King. After this they concluded a peace, whereof the conditions

were, That the Duke should release such prisoners as he had taken; and

that hee should retaine whatsoeuer he had wonne, or afterwards should

winne from the Earle of _Aniou_. And yet the King did againe enterprise

vpon him, with greater forces then at any time before: But the Duke

entertained his Armies with so good order and valoure, that the King

gained nothing but losse and dishonour: and the greater his desire was

of victorie and reuenge, the more foule did his foiles and failings

appeare; which so brake both his courage and heart, that with griefe

thereof (as it was conceiued) hee ended his life. And thus during all

the time that he was onely Duke of _Normandy_, he was neuer free from

action of armes: in all his actions of armes hee was caried with a most

rare and perpetuall felicitie.

As he grew in yeeres, so did he in thicknesse and fatnesse of body: but

so, as it made him neither vnseemely, nor vnseruiceable for the warres;

and neuer much exceeding the measure of a comely corpulencie. He was

most decent, and therewith terrible in armes. He was stately and

maiesticall in his gesture; of a good stature, but in strength

admirable: in so much as no man was able to draw his bow, which hee

would bend sitting vpon his horse, stretching out the string with his

foot. His countenance was warlike and manly as his friends might terme

it; but as his enemies said, truculent and fierce. He would often sweare

_By Gods resurrection and his brightnesse_: which he commonly pronounced

with so furious a face, that hee strooke a terrour into those that were

present. His head was bald; his beard alwayes shauen; which fashion

being first taken vp by him, was then followed by all the _Normans_. Hee

was of a firme and strong constitution for his health; so as he neuer

was attached with sicknesse, but that which was the summons of his

death: and in his age seemed little to feele the heauie weight and

burthen of yeeres.

In his first age he was of a mild and gentle disposition; courteous,

bountifull, familiar in conuersation, a professed enemie to all vices.

But as in Fortune, as in yeres, so changed he in his behauiour; partly

by his continuall following the warres (whereby he was much fleshed in

blood) and partly by the inconstant nature of the people ouer whom he

ruled: who by often rebellions did not onely exasperate him to some

seueritie, but euen constraine him to hold them in with a more stiffe

arme. So hee did wring from his subiects very much substance, very much

blood; not for that he was by nature either couetous or cruell, but for

that his affaires could not otherwise be managed. His great affaires

could not be managed without great expence, which drew a necessity of

charge vpon the people: neither could the often rebellions of his

Subiects be repressed or restrained by any mild and moderate meanes. And

generally as in all States and gouernments, seuere discipline hath

alwayes bin a true faithfull mother of vertue and valour; so in

particular of his _Normans_ he learned by experience, and oftentimes

declared this iudgement: That if they were held in bridle, they were

most valiant, and almost inuincible; excelling all men both in courage,

and in strength, and in honourable desire to vanquish their enemies. But

if the reines were layd loose vpon their necke, they were apt to runne

into licentiousnes and mischiefe; ready to consume either themselues by

riot and sloath, or one another by sedition: prone to innouation and

change; as heauily mooued to vndertake dangers, so not to bee trusted

vpon occasion.

He tooke to wife _Matilde_ daughter to _Baldwin_ Earle of _Flanders_, a

man for his wisedome and power, both reuerenced and feared euen of

Kings; but because she was his cousin Germane, he was for his marriage

excommunicate by his owne vnckle _Mauger_ Archbishop of _Roan_. Hereupon

he sued to Pope _Victor_, and obteined of him a dispensation: and

afterwards so wrought, that by a prouinciall Councell his vncle _Mauger_

was depriued of his dignitie. But by this meanes both he & his issue

were firmely locked in obedience to the Sea of _Rome_; for that vpon the

authoritie of that place the validitie of his marriage, and consequently

the legitimation of his issue seemed to depend.

When he was about 50. yeeres of age, _Edward_ King of _England_ ended

his life. This _Edward_ was sonne to _Egelred_ King of _England_, by

_Emma_, sister to _Richard_ the second Duke of _Normandie_, who was

grandfather to Duke _William_: so as King _Edward_ and Duke _William_

were cousins germane once remoued.[7]

At such time as _Egelred_ was first ouercharged with warres by the

_Danes_, he sent his wife _Emma_, with two sonnes which she had borne

vnto him, _Alphred_ and _Edward_, into _Normandie_ to her brother; where

they were enterteined with all honourable vsage for many yeeres.

Afterward giuing place to the malice of his Fortune, he passed also into

_Normandie_, and left his whole state in the possession and power of

_Swanus_ King of _Denmarke_. But after the death of _Swanus_, partly by

the aide of the _Normans_, and partly by fauour of his owne people, he

recouered his Kingdome, and left the same to his eldest sonne _Edmund_,

who either for the tough temper of his courage and strength, or for that

he almost alwayes liued in Armes, was surnamed _Ironside_.

Hereupon _Canutus_ the sonne of _Swanus_ made sharpe warre, first

against _Egelred_, then against _Edmund_: and finally after many

varieties of aduenture, but chiefly by the fauour of the Clergie of

_England_ (because they had sworne allegiance to his father) spread the

wings of his victory ouer the whole Kingdome. He expelled out of the

Realme _Edwine_ and _Edward_ the two sonnes of King _Edmund_: of whom

_Edwine_ married the Kings daughter of _Hungarie_, but died without

issue; _Edward_ was aduanced to the marriage of _Agatha_, daughter to

the Emperour _Henry_, and by her had issue two sonnes, _Edmund_ &

_Edgar_, and so many daughters, _Margaret_ and _Christine_. The same

_Canutus_ tooke _Emma_ to wife, who had bene wife to King _Egelred_; by

whom he had a sonne named _Hardicanutus_.

After the death of _Canutus_, _Alphred_ the sonne of _Egelred_ came out

of _Normandie_, and with fiftie saile landed at _Sandwich_: with purpose

to attempt the recouerie of his fathers kingdome. In which enterprise

hee receiued not onely encouragement, but good assurance from many of

the _English_ Nobilitie. But by Earle _Goodwine_ he was abused and

taken; his company slaine, his eyes put out, and then sent to the Ile of

_Elie_, where in short time hee ended his life. _Edward_ also arriued at

_Hampton_ with 40. ships, but finding the Countrey so farre from

receiuing, as they were ready to resist him, he returned into

_Normandie_, and attended the further fauour of time. So after _Canutus_

succeeded in _England_, first _Harold_ sirnamed _Harefoot_, bastard

sonne to _Canutus_; and after him _Hardicanutus_, sonne to _Canutus_ by

_Emma_, mother also to King _Edward_.

_Hardicanutus_ being dead, the Nobilitie of the Realme sent into

_Normandie_ for _Edward_ to be their King; whereto also he was appointed

as some haue written by _Hardicanutus_. But because _Alphred_ his

brother vpon the like inuitation had bene traiterously taken and slaine

before, _William_ at that time Duke of _Normandie_ would not permit him

to depart, vntill he had receiued for pledges of his safety, _Woolnoth_

son to Earle _Goodwine_, and _Hacon_ sonne to _Swaine_, Earle _Goodwins_

eldest sonne. Vpon this assurance he was furnished by the duke his

cousin, with all meanes fit both for his enterprise and estate. And so

hee passed the Seas, arriued in _England_, and with generall ioy was

receiued for King. He tooke to wife _Edith_ the daughter of Earle

_Goodwine_; but whether vpon vow of chastitie, or whether vpon

impotencie of nature, or whether vpon hatred to her father, or whether

vpon suspition against herselfe (for all these causes are alleaged by

seuerall writers of those times) he forbore all priuate familiaritie

with her.

When he was well locked into the chaire of State, Duke _William_ came

out of _Normandie_ to see him, to shew his magnificence to the _English_

people; to shew to the _English_, both that he loued their King, and

that he was of power to relieue him, in case his necessities should so

require. Here, besides honourable enterteinement, besides many rich

gifts both to himselfe and to his followers, the King hauing neither

hope nor desire of issue, promised him, in regard of his great fauours

and deserts, that hee should be his next successour in the Kingdome. And

for further assurance thereof, sent him also the like message into

_Normandie_, by _Robert_ Archbishop of _Canterburie_.

After this _Harold_ sonne to Earle _Goodwine_ passed the Seas into

_Normandie_, to deale for the discharge of his brother _Wolnoth_ and

_Hacon_ his nephew, who had bene deliuered for hostages to the Duke. In

his passage he was much tossed with troublesome weather, and in the end

was cast vpon the coast of _Ponthieu_, and there taken by the Earle and

committed to prison. But at the request of the Duke of _Normandie_, hee

was released with honourable respect, and by the Earle himselfe

accompanied to the Duke; who enterteined him with great magnificence at

_Roan_. The Duke was then going in Armes against the _Britaines_; in

which iourney _Harold_ did accompany him, and shewed himselfe a man,

neither rash in vndertaking, nor fearefull in perfourming any seruices

of the field. After prosperous returne, the Duke declared to _Harold_,

the purpose of King _Edward_ concerning the Dukes succession to this

Crowne. _Harold_ did auow the same to be true; and promised to affoord

thereto the best furtherance that he could. Hereupon the Duke assembled

a Councell at _Boneuill_; where _Harold_ did sweare fidelitie vnto him:

and promised likewise by oath, that after the death of King _Edward_, he

would keepe the Realme of _England_ to the vse of the Duke: that he

would deliuer vnto him the castle of _Douer_, and certaine other pieces

of defence, furnished at his owne charge. Hereupon the Duke promised

vnto him his daughter in marriage, and with her halfe the Realme of

_England_ in name of her dower. He also deliuered to him his nephew

_Hacon_; but kept his brother _Wolnoth_ as an hostage, for performance

of that which _Harold_ had sworne.

In short time after King _Edward_ died, and _Harold_ being generall

commander of the forces of the Realme, seized vpon the soueraignetie,

and without any accustomed solemnities set the crowne vpon his owne

head. The people were nothing curious to examine titles; but as men

broken with long bondage, did easily entertaine the first pretender. And

yet to _Harold_ they were inclinable enough, as well vpon opinion of his

prowesse, as for that hee endeauoured to winne their fauour, partly by

abating their grieuous paiments, and partly by increasing the wages of

his seruants and Souldiers; generally, by vsing iustice with clemencie

and courtesie towards all. About this time a blasing starre appeared and

continued the space of seuen dayes;[8] which is commonly taken to

portend alteration in States. Of this Comet a certaine Poet, alluding to

the baldnesse of the _Norman_, wrote these verses.

_Caesariem Caesar tibi si natura negauit,

Hanc Willielme tibi stella comata dedit._

Duke _William_ sent diuers Ambassadours to _Harold_; first to demaund

perfourmance of his oath, afterward to mooue him to some moderate

agreement. But ambition, a reasonlesse and restlesse humour, made him

obstinate against all offers or inducements of peace. So they prepared

to buckle in armes; equall both in courage and in ambitious desires,

equall in confidence of their fortune: but _Harold_ was the more

aduenturous, _William_ the more aduised man: _Harold_ was more strong in

Souldiers, _William_ in Alies and friends.

_Harold_ was seated in possession, which in case of a kingdome is

oftentimes with facilitie attained, but retained hardly: _William_

pretended the donation of King _Edward_, and that he was neere vnto him

in blood by the mothers side.

Now there wanted not precedents, both ancient and of later times, that

free kingdomes and principalities, not setled by custome in succession

of blood, haue been transported euen to strangers by way of guift.

_Attalus_ king of _Pergamus_[9] did constitute the people of _Rome_ his

heire; by force wherof they made his kingdome a part of their empire.

_Nicomedes_ King of _Bithynia_[10] made the people of _Rome_ likewise

his heire; whereupon his kingdome was reduced to the forme of a

Prouince. So _Alexander_ King of _Egypt_,[11] gaue _Alexandria_ and the

kingdome of _Egypt_; and so _Ptolemie_ gaue the kingdome of _Cyrene_ to

the same people of _Rome_. _Prasutagus_[12] one of the kings of great

_Britaine_, gaue the kingdome of the _Iceni_ to _Caesar Nero_, and to his

daughters. Yea, in the Imperial state of _Rome_, _Augustus_ designed

_Tiberius_ to be his successour; and by like appointment _Nero_ became

successour to _Claudius_; _Traiane_ to _Nerua_; _Antonius Pius_ to

_Adrian_; and _Antoninus_ the Philosopher to another _Antoninus_. When

the Emperour _Galba_[13] did openly appoint _Piso_ for his successour,

he declared to the people, that the same custome had been obserued by

most approued and ancient Princes. _Iugurth_ being adopted by

_Mycipsa_,[14] succeeded him in the kingdome of _Numidia_; and that by

the iudgement as well of _Mycipsa_ himselfe, as of the Senate and people

of _Rome_.

The holy histories report that _Salomon_[15] gaue twentie cities to

_Hiram_ king of _Tyre_: and if the argument be good from the part to the

whole, he might in like sort haue disposed of all his kingdome. Who

hath not heard of the donation falsly attributed to _Constantine_ the

great, being in trueth the donation of _Lewis_, sirnamed the pious;

whereby he gaue to Pope _Paschal_ the citie of _Rome_, and a large

territorie adioyning vnto it; the instrument of which gift

_Volaterrane_[16] doth recite. So the Ladie _Matild_, daughter to

_Roger_ the most famous Prince of _Cicilie_, and wife to king _Conrade_,

sonne to _Henrie_[17] the 4. Emperour, gaue the Marquisate of _Apulia_

to the Bishop of _Rome_: which when the Emperour _Otho_ the 4. refused

to deliuer, hee was for that cause excommunicate by the Pope. In like

sort the countrey of _Daulphin_[18] was giuen by Prince _Vmbert_ to the

King of _France_, vpon condition, that the eldest sonne of _France_

should afterward be called _Daulphine_. Lastly, the Dukes first

auncestor _Rollo_, receiued the Dukedome of _Normandie_ by donation of

_Charles_ King of _France_: And himselfe held the Countie of _Maine_ by

donation of Earle _Herebert_, as before it is shewed. And by donation of

the King of _Britaine_, _Hengist_ obtained _Kent_; the first kingdome of

the English Saxons in _Britaine_. After which time the Countrey was

neuer long time free from inuasion: first, by the English and Saxons

against the Britaines, afterward by the seuen _Saxon_ kingdomes among

themselues, and then lastly by the _Danes_. By meanes whereof the

kingdome at that time could not bee setled in any certaine forme of

succession by blood, as it hath been since; but was held for the most

part in absolute dominion, and did often passe by transaction or gift:

and he whose sword could cut best, was alwaies adiudged to haue most

right. But of this question more shall hereafter be said, in the

beginning of the life of King _William_ the second.

Touching his propinquity in blood to King _Edward_ by the mothers side,

he enforced it to be a good title: because King _Edward_ not long before

had taken succession from _Hardicanutus_, to whom hee was brother by the

mothers side. And although King _Edward_ was also descended from the

_Saxon_ Kings, yet could not he deriue from them any right: For that

_Edgar_ and his sisters were then aliue, descended from _Edmund

Ironside_, elder brother to King _Edward_. Hee could haue no true right

of succession, but onely from _Hardicanutus_ the _Dane_. So _Pepine_,

when he was possessed of the State of _France_, did openly publish, that

hee was descended of the blood of _Charles_ the Great, by the mothers

side. And albeit the said _Edgar_ was both neerer to King _Edward_ then

the Duke of _Normandie_, and also ioyned to him in blood by the fathers

side; yet was that no sufficient defence for _Harold_. The vsurped

possession of _Harold_[19] could not be defended, by alleaging a better

title of a third person. The iniurie which hee did to _Edgar_, could not

serue him for a title against any other.

These grounds of his pretence, beautified with large amplifications of

the benefits which he had done to King _Edward_, he imparted to the

Bishop of _Rome_; who at time was reputed the arbitrator of

controuersies which did rise betweene princes. And the rather to procure

his fauour, and to gaine the countenance of religion to his cause, hee

promised to hold the kingdome of _England_ of the Apostolike Sea.

Hereupon _Alexander_ then Bishop of _Rome_ allowed his title, and sent

vnto him a white hallowed banner, to aduance vpon the prowe of his ship:

also an _Agnus Dei_ of gold, and one of S. _Peters_ haires, together

with his blessing to begin the enterprise.

But now concerning his further proceedings, concerning his victorious

both entrance and continuance within the Realme of _England_, two points

are worthy to be considered: one, how he being a man of no great either

power or dominion, did so suddenly preuaile against a couragious King,

possessed of a large and puissant State. The other is, how he so secured

his victorie, as not the English, not the Britains, not the Danes, not

any other could dispossesse or much disturbe him & his posteritie, from

enioying the fayre fruits thereof. And if we giue to either of these

their true respects, wee shall find his commendation to consist, not so

much in the first, as in the second: because that was effected chiefly

by force, this by wisedome only; which as it is most proper to man, so

few men doe therein excell. Hee that winneth a State surmounteth onely

outward difficulties; but he that assureth the same, trauaileth as well

against internall weaknes, as external strength. To attaine a Kingdome

is many times a gift of Fortune; but to prouide that it may long time

continue firme, is not onely to oppose against humane forces, but

against the very malice of Fortune, or rather the power and wrath of

time, whereby all things are naturally inclineable to change.

For the first then, besides the secret working and will of God, which is

the cause of all causes; besides the sinnes of the people, for which

(the Prophet saith,) _Kingdomes are transported from one Nation to

another_: King _Edward_ not long before made a manifest way for this

inuasion and change. For although he was _English_ by birth, yet by

reason of his education in _Normandie_, he was altogether become a

_Normane_, both in affection and in behauiour of life. So as in

imitation of him, the _English_ abandoned the ancient vsages of their

Country, and with great affection or affectation rather, conformed

themselues to the fashions of _France_.[20] His chiefe acquaintance and

familiar friends were no other then _Normans_; towards whom being a

milde and soft spirited Prince, he was very bountifull, and almost

immoderate in his fauours. These he enriched with great possessions;

these he honoured with the highest places both of dignitie and charge.

Chiefly he aduanced diuers of them to the best degrees of dignitie in

the Church: by whose fauour Duke _William_ afterward was both animated &

aided in his exploit. Generally as the whole Clergie of _England_

conceiued a hard opinion of _Harold_; for that vpon the same day wherein

King _Edward_ was buried, he set the Crowne vpon his owne head, without

Religious Ceremonies, without any solemnities of Coronation: so they

durst not for feare of the Popes displeasure, but giue either

furtherance or forbearance to the Dukes proceedings; and to abuse the

credite which they had with the people, in working their submission to

the _Normans_. Now of what strength the Clergie was at that time within

the Realme, by this which followeth it may appeare.

After that _Harold_ was slaine, _Edwine_ and _Morcar_ Earles of

_Northumberland_ and _Marckland_, brothers of great both authoritie and

power within the Realme, had induced many of the Nobilitie to declare

_Edgar Athelinge_ to be their King: but the Prelates not onely crossed

that purpose, but deliuered _Edgar_ the next heire from the _Saxon_

Kings to the pleasure of the Duke.

Againe, when the Duke after his great victorie at _Hastings_ aduanced

his armie towards _Hartford-shire_; _Fredericke_ Abbot of _S. Albanes_

had caused the woods belonging to his Church to be felled, and the

trees to be cast so thicke in the way, that the Duke was compelled to

coast about to the castle of _Berkhamstead_. To this place the Abbot

vnder Suerties came vnto him; and being demanded wherefore he alone did

offer that opposition against him, with a confident countenance he

returned answere: that he had done no more then in conscience and by

Nature he was bound to doe: and that if the residue of the Clergie had

borne the like minde, hee should neuer haue pierced the land so farre.

Well, answered the Duke, I know that your Clergie is powerfull indeed;

but if I liue and prosper in my affaires, I shall gouerne their

greatnesse well ynough. Assuredly, nothing doeth sooner worke the

conuersion or subuersion of a State, then that any one sort of Subiects

should grow so great, as to be able to ouerrule all the rest.

Besides this disposition of the Clergie, diuers of the Nobilitie also

did nothing fauour King _Harold_ or his cause: for that he was a

manifest vsurper, naked of all true title to the Crowne, pretending

onely as borne of the daughter of _Hardicanutus_ the _Dane_. Yea he was

infamous both for his iniurie and periurie towards the Duke, and no

lesse hatefull for his disloyaltie in former times, in bearing Armes

with his father against King _Edward_. Hereupon the Nobilitie of the

Realme were broken into factions. Many (of whom his owne brother _Tosto_

was chiefe) inuited _Harold_ King of _Norway_ to inuade; with whom

whilest _Harold_ of _England_ was incountring in Armes, the residue drew

in Duke _William_ out of _Normandie_. And these also were diuided in

respects. Some were caried by particular ends, as being prepared in

diuers maner by the _Normane_ before hand: others vpon a greedy and for

the most part deceiueable ambition, in hunting after hazard and change:

others were led with loue to their Countrey, partly to auoyd the tempest

which they saw to gather in clouds against them, and partly to enlarge

the Realme both in dominion and strength, by adioyning the Country of

_Normandie_ vnto it. In which regard, (because the lesse doeth alwayes

accrue to the greater) they thought it more aduantageable to deale with

a Prince of an inferiour state, then with a Prince of a state superiour

or equal.

As for _Edgar Atheling_, the next successour to the Crowne in right of

blood, he was not of sufficient age; of a simple wit and slow courage;

not gracious to the _English_, as well for his imperfections both in

yeeres and nature, as for that he was altogether vnacquainted with the

customes and conditions of their Countrey: vnfurnished of forces and

reputation, vnfurnished of friends, vnfurnished of all meanes to support

his title. So Duke _William_ hauing better right then the one, and more

power then the other, did easily cary the prize from both.

Now touching the state of his owne strength, albeit _Normandie_ was but

little in regard of _England_, yet was it neither feeble nor poore. For

the people, by reason of their continuall exercise in Armes, by reason

of the weightie warres which they had managed, were well inabled both in

courage and skill for all Militarie atchieuements. Their valour also had

bene so fauoured by their Fortune, that they were more enriched by

spoile, then drawne downe either with losses or with charge. Hereupon

when preparation was to be made for the enterprise of _England_,

although some disswaded the Duke from embracing the attempt; affirming

that it was a vaine thing to streine at that which the hand is not able

to conteine, to take more meat then the stomacke can beare; that he who

catcheth at matters too great, is in great danger to gripe nothing: Yet

did others not onely encourage him by aduise, but enable him by their

aide. Among which _William Fitz-Auber_ did furnish 40. ships with men

and munition; The Bishop of _Baieux_ likewise 40: the Bishop of _Mans_

30: and in like sort others, according to the proportion of their

estates.

And yet he drew not his forces onely out of _Normandie_, but receiued

aide from all parts of _France_; answerable not onely to his necessitie,

but almost to his desire. _Philip_ King of _France_ at that time was

vnder age, and _Baldwine_ Earle of _Flanders_ was gouernour of the

Realme; whose daughter the Duke had taken to wife. By his fauour the

Duke receiued large supplies from the state of _France_, both in

treasure and in men of warre: for countenance whereof it was giuen

foorth, that the Duke should hold the Realme of _England_ as hee did the

Duchie of _Normandie_, vnder homage to the Crowne of _France_. Hereupon

diuers Princes of _France_ did adioyne to his aide; and especially the

Duke of _Orleance_, the Earles of _Britaine_, _Aniou_, _Boloigne_,

_Ponthieu_, _Neuers_, _Poictou_, _Hiesmes_, _Aumale_, and the Lord of

_Tours_. Many other of the Nobilitie and Gentlemen did voluntarily

aduenture, both their bodies and whole estates vpon the euent of this

enterprise. So greatly had he either by courtesie wonne the loue, or by

courage erected the hopes of all men: yea of many who had bin his

greatest enemies. With these also the _Emperour Henry_ 4. sent him

certaine troupes of Souldiers, commanded by a Prince of _Almaine_. Hee

receiued also many promises of fauour from _Swaine_ King of _Denmarke_.

And who can assure (for the sequele maketh the coniecture probable) that

he held not intelligence with _Harold Harfager_ King of _Norway_, to

inuade _England_ with two armies at once. So partly by his owne

Subiects, and partly by supply from his Alleys and friends, hee amassed

a strong Armie, consisting chiefly of _Normans_, _Flemings_, _French_

and _Britaines_, to the number of fiftie thousand men; and brought them

to S. _Valeries_, before which Towne his ships did ride. Here he stayed

a certaine time attending the wind, as most writers doe report; but

rather as it may be coniectured, to awaite the arriuall of _Harold

Harfager_ K. of _Norway_: knowing right well, that the inuasion of

_Harold_ of _Norway_ vpon the North parts of the realme, would draw away

_Harold_ of _England_ to leaue the coasts towards the South vndefended.

During his abode at S. _Valeries_, certaine English espials were taken,

whom King _Harold_ had sent to discouer both the purposes and power of

the Duke. When they were brought to his presence, with a braue

confidence he said vnto them: _Your Lord might well haue spared this

charge; hee needed not to haue cast away his cost to vnderstand that by

your industrie and faith, which my owne presence shall manifest vnto

him; more certainly, more shortly then he doth expect. Goe your wayes,

goe tell him from me, If he find me not before the end of this yeere, in

the place where hee supposeth that hee may most safely set his foote,

let him neuer feare danger from mee whilest hee liue._ Many _Normans_

disliked this open dealing of the Duke: preferring to his iudgement the

valour and experience of King _Harold_; the greatnesse of his treasure;

the number and goodnes of his men; but especially his strong Nauie, and

expert Saylers; accustomed both to the fights and dangers of the Sea,

more then any other people in the world. To these the Duke turned, and

sayd: _I am glad to heare this opinion run, both of his prowesse and of

his power; the greater shall our glory bee in preuailing against him.

But I see right well that I haue small cause to feare his discouery of

our strength, when you, who are so neere vnto mee, discerne so little.

Rest your selues vpon the Iustice of your cause and foresight of your

Commaunder. Who hath lesse then hee, who can iustly tearme nothing his

owne? I know more of his weakenesse, then euer he shall know of my

strength, vntill he feele it. Performe you your parts like men, and he

shall neuer be able to disappoint either my assurance, or your hopes._

Now _Harold_ King of _England_ had prepared a fleet to resist the

inuasion of the duke of _Normandie_: but by reason of his long stay at

S. _Valeries_, speeches did spread, whether by error or subornation,

yea, assured aduertisement was sent out of _Flanders_, that he had for

that yeere abandoned his enterprise. In the meane time _Harold Harfager_

King of _Norway_, then whom no man was esteemed more valiant, hauing

assured both intelligence and aide out of _England_, arriued in the

mouth of _Humber_: and from thence drawing vp against the streame of

the riuer _Owse_, landed at a place called _Richhall_. Here he

Marshalled his Armie, and marched foorth into the Countrey: and when hee

came neere vnto _Yorke_, he was encountred by the _English_, led by

_Edwine_ and _Morchar_ the principall commanders of all those quarters.

The fight was furious, but in the end the _English_ were ouerthrowne,

and with a great slaughter chased into _Yorke_.

Vpon aduertisement hereof, _Harold_ King of _England_ caried all his

forces against _Harfager_. His readinesse was such, and such his

expedition, that the fifth day after the fight before mentioned he gaue

him battell againe; wherein _Harold Harfager_ was slaine, and so was

_Tosto_ the King of _Englands_ brother: _Tosto_ by an vncertaine enemie,

but _Harfager_ by the hand of _Harold_ of _England_. Their armie also

was routed, and with a bloody execution pursued, so long as day and

furie did last. Here a certaine Souldier of _Norway_ was most famous

almost for a miracle of manhood. He had been appointed with certaine

others, to guard the passage at _Stamford_ bridge. The residue vpon

approach of the English forsooke their charge; but hee alone stepped to

the foote of the Bridge, and with his Battle-axe sustained the shocke

of the whole armie; slew aboue fourty assailants, and defended both the

passage and himselfe, vntill an English Souldier went vnder the Bridge,

and through a hole thereof thrust him into the bodie with a Launce.

If this victory of King _Harold_ had been so wisely vsed as it was

valiantly wonne, he should haue neglected the spoyle, and returned with

the like celeritie wherewith he came. But hee gaue discontentment to his

Souldiers, in abridging their expectation for free sharing the spoile;

and hauing lost many in that conflict, he retired to _Yorke_, and there

stayed; as well to reforme the state of the Countrey, greatly disordered

by meanes of these warres, as also both to refresh and repaire his

armie.

In the meane time the Duke of _Normandie_ receiuing intelligence, that

the Sea-coasts were left naked of defence, loosed from S. _Valeries_

with three hundred, or, as some writers report, 896, or, as one _Norman_

writer affirmes, with more then one thousand saile: and hauing a gentle

gale, arriued at _Pemsey_ in _Sussex_, vpon the 28. of September. The

ship wherein the Duke was caried is said, (as if it had runne for the

garland of victory) to haue outstripped the rest so farre, that the

sailers were enforced to strike saile, and hull before the winde to haue

their companie. When hee first stepped vpon the shoare, one of his feete

slipped a little. The Duke to recouer himselfe stepped more strongly

with the other foote, and sunke into the sand somewhat deepe. One of his

Souldiers espying this, sayd merrily vnto him: _You had almost fallen my

Lord, but you haue well maintained your standing, and haue now taken

deepe and firme footing in the soyle of_ England. _The presage is good,

and hereupon I salute you King._ The Duke laughed; and the souldiers,

with whom superstition doth strongly worke, were much confirmed in

courage by the ieast.

When he had landed his forces, he fortified a piece of ground with

strong trenches, and discharged all his ships; leauing to his souldiers

no hope to saue themselues, but by onely by victory. After this he

published the causes of his comming in armes, namely:

1 To chalenge the kingdome of _England_, giuen to him by his cousin King

_Edward_, the last lawfull possessor at that time thereof.

2 To reuenge the death of his cousin _Alfred_, brother to the same K.

_Edward_, and of the _Normans_, who did accompanie him into _England_;

no lesse cruelly then deceitfully slaine by Earle _Goodwin_ and his

adherents.

3 To reuenge the iniurie done vnto _Robert_ Archbishop of Canterburie;

who by the practise (as it was then giuen foorth) of _Harold_, had been

exiled in the life time of King _Edward_.

This last article was added either to please the Pope, or generally in

fauour of the Cleargie: to whom the example grew then intollerable, that

an Archbishop should bee once questioned by any other then by

themselues.

So the Duke, leauing his fortification furnished with competent forces

to assure the place, as wel for a retreit, as for daily landing of fresh

supplies, marched forward to _Hastings_; and there raised another

fortresse, and planted likewise a garison therein. And in all places he

restrained his Souldiers, either from spoyling or harming the Countrey

people, for feare that thereby they would fall into disorder: but giuing

forth, that it were crueltie to spoile them, who in short time should be

his Subiects. Here the Duke, because he would not either aduenture or

trust his Souldiers, went foorth in person to discouer the Countrey,

with 15. horsemen in his company, and no more. His returne was on foote,

by reason of the euill qualitied wayes: and when _Fitz-Osberne_ who went

with him, was ouerwearied with the weight of his armour, the Duke eased

him by bearing his helmet vpon his shoulder. This action may seeme of

slender regard; but yet did gaine him, both fauour and dutie among his

Souldiers.

K. _Harold_ hearing of these approches, hasted by great iourneyes

towards _London_; sending his messengers to all places, both to

encourage and entreate the people to draw together for their common

defence. Here he mustered his Souldiers; and albeit hee found that his

forces were much impaired by his late battaile against _Harfager_, yet

he gathered an able armie, countenanced and commanded by diuers of the

Nobilitie, which resorted vnto him from many parts of the Realme. The

Duke in the meane time sent a messenger vnto him, who demanded the

Kingdome in so stout maner, that he was at the point to haue bene euill

entreated by the King. Againe the King sent his messenger to the Duke,

forbidding him with loftie language, to make any stay within that

Countrey; but to returne againe no lesse speedily, then rashly he had

entred. The Duke betweene mirth and scorne returned answere; That as he

came not vpon his entreaty, so at his command he would not depart. But

(said he) _I am not come to word with your King, I am come to fight, and

am desirous to fight: I will be ready to fight with him, albeit I had

but 10000. such men as I haue brought 60000._

K. _Harold_ spent little time, lost none (vnlesse happely that which hee

might haue taken more) both in appointing and ordering his Armie. And

when he was ready to take the field, his mother entreated him, first

moderately, then with words of passion and with teares, that he would

not aduenture his person to the battaile. Her importunitie was admired

the more, for that it was both without any apparant cause, and not

vsuall in former times. But _Harold_ with vndaunted countenance and

heart, conducted his Armie into _Sussex_, and encamped within seuen

miles of the _Normans_: who thereupon approched so neere to the

_English_, that the one Armie was within view of the other.

First, espials were sent on both sides, to discouer the state and

condition of their enemies. They who were sent from the English made a

large report, both of the number, and appointment, and discipline of the

_Normans_. Whereupon _Girth_, yonger brother to King _Harold_ presented

him with aduise, not to play his whole State at a cast; not to bee so

caried with desire of victory, as not to awaite the time to attaine it:

that it is proper to Inuaders presently to fight, because they are then

in the very pride and flourish of their strength; but the assailed

should rather delay battell, rather obserue only and attend their

enemies, cut off their reliefe, vexe them with incommodities, weary

them, and weare them out by degrees: that it could not be long before

the Dukes armie, being in a strange Countrey, would be reduced to

necessities; it could not bee long but by reason it consisted of diuers

nations, it would draw into disorder: that it was proper to an armie

compounded of different people, to be almost inuincible at the first,

whilest all contend to excell or at least to equal other in braue

performance; but if they be aduisedly endured, they will easily fall

into disorders, and lastly of themselues dissolue. _Or if_ (sayd he)

_you resolue to fight, yet because you are sworne to the Duke, you shall

doe well to withdraw your presence; to imploy your authoritie in

mustering a new armie, to bee readie to receiue him with fresh forces.

And if you please to commit the charge of this incounter vnto me, I will

not faile to expresse, both the loue of a brother, and the care and

courage of a Commander. For as I am not obliged to the Duke by oath, so

shall I either preuaile with the better cause, or with the quieter

conscience die._

Both these counsailes were reiected by _Harold_: The first out of a

violent vehemencie of these Northerne nations, who doe commonly esteeme

delay of battell a deiected cowardise, a base and seruile deflouring of

time; but to beare through their designes at once, they account a point

of honourable courage. The second he esteemed both shamefull to his

reputation, and hurtfull to the state of his affaires. For what honour

had he gained by his former victories, if when he came to the greatest

pinch of danger, hee should fearefully shrinke backe? with what heart

should the Souldiers fight, when they haue not his presence for whom

they fight? when they haue not their Generall an eye witnesse of their

performance? when they want his sight, his encouragement, his example to

enflame them to valour? The presence of the Prince is worth many

thousands of ordinarie Souldiers: The ordinary Souldier wil vndertake

both labour and danger for no other respects so much, as by the presence

of the Prince. And therefore he did greatly extenuate the worth of the

_Normans_, terming them a company of Priests; because their fashion was

to shaue their faces: But whatsoeuer they were, as he had (hee said)

digested in his minde the hardest euents of battell; so either the

infamie or suspicion of cowardise in no case hee would incurre. Hee

resolued not to ouerliue so great dishonour; he resolued to set vp as

his last rest, his Crowne, and Kingdome; and life withall. And thus

oftentimes Fortune dealeth with men, as Executioners doe with condemned

persons; she will first blindfold, and then dispatch them.

After this the _Norman_ sent a Monke to offer the choise of these

conditions to _Harold_; Either to relinquish his kingdome vpon certaine

conditions; or to hold it vnder homage to the Duke; or to try their

cause by single combate; or to submit it to the iudgement of the Pope,

according to the Lawes of _Normandy_ or of _England_, which he would.

Againe, some conditions were propounded from K. _Harold_ to the Duke:

But their thoughts were so lifted vp both with pride and confidence, by

reason of their former victories, that no moderate ouerture could take

place: and so they appointed the day following, which was the 14. of

October, to determine their quarrell by sentence of the sword. This

happened to be the birth day of K. _Harold_, which for that cause by a

superstitious errour, he coniectured would be prosperous vnto him.

The night before the battaile for diuers respects was vnquiet. The

_English_ spent the time in feasting and drinking, and made the aire

ring with showtings and songs: the _Normans_ were more soberly silent,

and busied themselues much in deuotion; being rather still then quiet,

not so much watchful as not able to sleepe. At the first appearance of

the day, the King and the Duke were ready in Armes, encouraging their

Souldiers, and ordering them in their arrayes; in whose eyes it seemed

that courage did sparckle, and that in their face and gesture victorie

did sit. The Duke put certaine reliques about his necke, vpon which King

_Harold_ had sworne vnto him. It is reported that when he armed, the

backe of his Curasses was placed before by errour of him that put it on:

some would haue bin dismayed hereat, but the Duke smiled, and said;

Assuredly this day my Fortune will turne, I shall either be a King, or

nothing before night.

The _English_ were knit in one maine body on foot; whereof the first

rancks consisted of _Kentishmen_ (who by an ancient custome did

challenge the honour of that place,) the next were filled with

_Londoners_; then followed the other _English_. Their chiefe weapons

were pole-axe, sword and dart, with a large target for their defence.

They were paled in front with paueises in such wise, that it was thought

impossible for the enemie to breake them. The King stood on foot by his

Standard, with two of his brothers, _Girth_ and _Leofwine_; as well to

relieue from thence all parts that should happen to be distressed, as

also to manifest to the Souldiers, that they reteined no thought of

escaping by flight. On the other side, the _Normans_ were diuided into

three battailes: The first was conducted by _Roger Montgomerie_, and

_William Fitz-Osborne_; it consisted of horsemen of _Aniou_, _Maine_ and

_Britaine_, commanded by a _Britaine_ named _Fergent_; It caried the

Banner which the Pope had sent. The middle battaile consisting of

Souldiers out of _Germanie_ and _Poictou_, was led by _Geoffrye

Martell_, and a Prince of _Almaine_. The Duke himselfe closed the last

battaile, with the strength of his _Normans_ and the flowre of his

Nobilitie. The Archers were diuided into wings, and also dispersed by

bands through all the three battails.

Thus were both sides set vpon a bloody bargaine; ambition, hope, anger,

hate, enflaming them to valour. The duke edged his Souldiers, by

declaring vnto them the noble Acts of their ancesters, the late

admirable atchieuement of their fellow _Normans_ in subduing the

Kingdome of _Sicill_, their owne braue exploits vnder him; by shewing

them all that pleasant and plentifull Countrey, as the purchase of their

prowesse, as the gaine and reward of their aduenture: by putting them in

minde, that they were in a Countrey both hostile & vnknowne, before them

the sword, the vast Ocean behind, no place of retreit, no surety but in

valour and in victory; so as they who would not contend for glory, were

vpon necessitie to fight for their liues: Lastly, by assuring them, that

as he was the first in aduise, so would he be the foremost in aduenture,

being fully resolued either to vanquish, or to die. The King encouraged

his men, by presenting to their remembrance, the miseries which they

susteined not long before, vnder the oppression of the _Danes_; which

whether they were againe to endure, or neuer to feare, it lieth (said

he) in the issue of this field. The King had the aduantage both for

number of men, and for their large able bodies; The Duke both in Armes,

(especially in regard of the Bow and arrowes,) and in experience and

skill of Armes; both equall in courage; both confident alike in the

fauour of Fortune, which had alwayes crowned their courage with victory.

And now by affronting of both the Armies, the plots and labours of many

moneths, were reduced to the hazard of a few houres.

The _Normans_ marched with a song of the valiant acts of _Rowland_,

esteeming nothing of perill in regard of the glory of their aduenture.

When they approched neere their enemies, they saluted them first with a

storme of Arrowes: _Robert Fitz Beaumonte_ a yong Gentleman of

_Normandie_, beginning the fight from the right Wing. This maner of

fight as it was new, so was it most terrible to the _English_, so were

they least prouided to auoyd it. First, they opened their rancks, to

make way for the Arrowes to fall; but when that auoydance did nothing

auaile, they cloased againe, and couered themselues with their Targets,

ioyned together in maner of a pendhouse; encouraging one another, to

hast forward, to leape lustily to hand-strokes, and to scoure their

swords in the entrailes of their enemies. Then the Duke commanded his

horsemen to charge: but the _English_ receiued them vpon the points of

their weapons, with so liuely courage, in so firme and stiffe order,

that the ouerthrow of many of the foremost, did teach their followers to

aduenture themselues with better aduise. Hereupon they shifted into

wings, and made way for the footmen to come forward. Then did both

armies ioyne in a horrible shocke, with Pole-axes, & the Prince of

weapons the sword: maintaining the fight with so manlike furie, as if it

had bene a battaile of Giants, rather then of men. And so they continued

the greatest part of that day, in close and furious fight; blow for

blow, wound for wound, death for death; their feet steadie, their hands

diligent, their eyes watchfull, their hearts resolute; neither their

aduisement dazeled by fiercenesse, nor their fiercenesse any thing

abated by aduisement.

In the meane time the horsemen gaue many sharpe charges, but were

alwayes beaten backe with disaduantage. The greatest annoyance came from

the Archers; whose shot showred among the _English_ so thicke, as they

seemed to haue the enemy in the middest of their Armie. Their armour was

not sufficiently either compleate or of proofe to defend them, but euery

hand, euery finger breadth vnarmed, was almost an assured place for a

deepe, and many times a deadly wound. Thus whilest the front was

maintained in good condition, many thousands were beaten downe behind;

whose death was not so grieuous vnto them, as the maner of their death,

in the middest of their friends, without an enemie at hand, vpon whom

they might shew some valour, and worke some reuenge.

This maner of fight would soone haue determined aswell the hopes as the

feares of both sides, had not the targets of English been very

seruiceable vnto them; Had not King _Harold_ also with a liuely and

constant resolution, performed the part, not onely of a skilfull

commander, by directing, encouraging, prouiding, relieuing; but of a

valiant Souldier by vsing his weapon, to the excellent example of his

Souldiers. In places of greatest danger hee was alwayes present;

repayring the decayes, reforming the disorders, and encouraging his

company, that in doing as men, whether they preuailed, or whether they

perished, their labour was alwayes gloriously employed. So they knit

strongly together, and stood in close and thicke array, as if they had

been but one body: not onely bearing the brunt of their enemies, but

making such an impression vpon their squadron, that the great bodie

began to shake. The Duke aduentured in person so farre, moued no lesse

by his naturall magnanimitie, then by glory of the enterprise, that

besides his often alighting to fight on foote, two, or (as some report)

three horses were slaine vnder him. And hauing a body both able by

nature, and by vse hardened to endure trauaile, hee exacted the greater

seruice of his Souldiers: commending the forward, blaming the slow, and

crying out (according to his nature) with vehement gesture and voice

vnto all; that it was a shame for them who had been victorious against

all men with whom they dealt, to be so long held by the _English_ in

delay of victory. So partly by his authoritie, and partly by his

example, he retained his Souldiers, and imposed vpon them the fayrest

necessitie of courage; whilest euery man contended to win a good opinion

of their Prince.

Then the fight entred into a new fitte of heate; nothing lesse feared

then death, the greatnesse of danger making both sides the more

resolute: and they who could not approach to strike with the hand, were

heard to encourage their fellowes by speach, to pursue the victory, to

pursue their glory, not to turne to their owne both destruction and

disgrace. The clashing of armour, the iustling of bodies, the resounding

of blowes, was the fairest part of this bloody medley: but the

grislinesse of wounds, the hideous fals and groanes of the dying, all

the field defiled with dust, blood, broken armour, mangled bodies,

represented Terrour in her foulest forme. Neuer was furie better

gouerned; neuer game of death better played. The more they fought the

better they fought; the more they smarted, the lesse they regarded

smart.

At the last, when the Duke perceiued that the _English_ could not be

broken by strength of arme, he gaue direction that his men should retire

and giue ground; not loosely, not disorderly, as in a fearefull and

confused haste, but aduisedly and for aduantage; keeping the front of

their squadron firme and close, without disbanding one foote in array.

Nothing was more hurtfull to the _English_, being of a franke and noble

spirit, then that their violent inclination caried them too fast into

hope of victory. For, feeling their enemies to yeeld vnder their hand,

they did rashly follow those who were not hasty to flee: And in the

heate of their pursuit, vpon a false conceit of victory, loosed and

disordered their rankes, thinking then of nothing but of executing the

chase. The _Normans_ espying the aduantage to be ripe, made a stiffe

stand, redoubled vpon the _English_, and pressing on with a furie equall

to their fauourable fortune, with a cruell butchery brake into them. On

the other side it is scarce credible with what strength both of courage

and hand the _English_ euen in despight of death, sustained themselues

in this disorder; drawing into small squadrons, and beating downe their

enemies on euery hand, being resolued to sell their liues with their

place.

The Lives of the III. Normans, Kings of England: William the First, William the Second, Henrie the First · 第 4 / 11 题