THE HISTORY
OF THE
NORMAN CONQUEST OF ENGLAND,
ITS CAUSES AND ITS RESULTS.
BY
EDWARD A. FREEMAN, M.A.
LATE FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE.
VOLUME III.
_THE REIGN OF HAROLD AND THE INTERREGNUM._
Quum ingressus fueris terram quam Dominus Deus tuus dabit
tibi et possederis eam, habitaverisque in illâ, et dixeris;
Constituam super me Regem, sicut habent omnes per circuitum
nationes; eum constitues quem Dominus Deus tuus elegerit de
numero fratrum tuorum. Non poteris alterius gentis hominem
Regem facere, qui non sit frater tuus.—DEUT. xvii. 14, 15.
=Oxford:=
AT THE CLARENDON PRESS.
M.DCCC.LXIX.
[_All rights reserved._]
PREFACE.
The appearance of this volume has been delayed for a considerable time
in order to obtain for it a special advantage, namely an accurate
military ground-plan of the battle-field of Senlac. For this my best
thanks are owing to Colonel Sir Henry James, R.E. and to Captain Edward
R. James, R.E. I had, on June 2nd, the great advantage of a final
examination of the battle-ground in company with Captain James and Mr.
Bryce. My account of the battle was then already printed, but I am glad
to say that our examination led only to one or two small changes which
I have made in the Additions and Corrections. Captain James has had
the kindness to put my ideas of the battle, as drawn from the original
writers, into scientific military shape. He is not responsible for my
historical view of the battle, neither am I responsible for such purely
military points as the extent and arrangement of the palisade. The
relative position of the different divisions in the two armies seems
beyond doubt, but the extent of ground occupied by each division must
be matter of pure conjecture. The one absolutely certain point is the
position of the English Standard and the fact that it was against that
point that the main attack under William himself was made.
Besides my great obligations to Sir Henry James and Captain James,
I am no less indebted to His Grace the Duke of Cleveland for the
free and repeated access which he has allowed me to all parts of the
battle-field, a large part of which lies within his private grounds at
Battle Abbey. Without this kindness on his Grace’s part no satisfactory
account of the battle could have been written. I owe deep thanks also
to my two companions at Stamfordbridge, Archdeacon Jones and Mr. J.
R. Green, of whom Mr. Green also accompanied me on one of my visits
to Senlac, as well as to many of the places described in Normandy and
Maine. I have also to thank Mr. Dawkins for much valuable advice with
regard to the map of the Campaign of Hastings, and M. Le Gost-Clerisse
of Caen for his kind and valuable guidance to the field of Varaville.
Neither must I forget the good-humoured readiness which Mr. H. O. Coxe
has so often shown in verifying references in the Bodleian Library, and
the benefit of unrestrained resort on all questions to Professor Stubbs
may be taken for granted at every stage of every undertaking of mine.
And there are others whose names cannot well appear in print to whom I
am also indebted for much ready and zealous help in many ways.
SOMERLEAZE, WELLS,
_June 30th, 1869_.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XI.
THE ELECTION OF HAROLD.
January 5th–April 6th, 1066.
A. D. PAGE
1065–1066 Preeminent importance of the year 1066 3–5
§ 1. _Sickness and Death of Eadward. December 28, 1065–January
5, 1066._
National anxiety as to the succession; state of the
royal line 5–7
Position of Eadgar, Harold, William, and Tostig 7
Importance of Eadward’s dying recommendation 8
December 28–January 5 Progress of Eadward’s illness 9
He recovers his speech; his vision and prophecy 9–13
Question of the succession; Eadward names Harold as
his successor 14
His last directions and wishes 14–16
January 5 His death; English spirit of his last days 16–19
§ 2. _The Election and Coronation of Harold. January 5–6, 1066._
January 5 Vacancy of the throne; the Witan meet and elect
Harold 19–21
Position of Harold; he accepts the Crown 22–26
January 6 Double rites of the Epiphany; necessity for a speedy
burial and coronation 27
Burial of Eadward; position of Stigand; general
sorrow at Eadward’s death 28–30
His popular canonization 31–32
1102 His posthumous history; first examination of his
body by Gilbert and Gundulf 32–33
1140 Attempt of Prior Osbert to procure his canonization 33–34
1161 Eadward canonized by Alexander the Third 34
October First Translation of his body 34–35
13, 1163
October Second Translation of his body; rebuilding of
13, 1269 Westminster by Henry the Third; Henry’s likeness
to Eadward; presence of Edward the First 35–39
1074 The royal tombs around Eadward’s shrine; burial of
Eadgyth 39
1118 Burial of Eadgyth–Matilda 39
1557 The body removed by Henry the Eighth and restored
by Philip and Mary 40–41
January Coronation of Harold; Ealdred officiates 41–43
6, 1066
Order of the ceremony; the election in the church 43–44
The Unction and Crowning 45–48
Question of the Marriage and Crowning of Ealdgyth 48
§ 3. _The First Days of Harold’s Reign. January 6–April 16, 1066._
No Earl of the West-Saxons appointed; Harold keeps
the South in his own hands and entrusts the North
to Eadwine and Morkere 49–51
Character of Harold’s government; Norman and English
accounts; no general expulsion of Normans 51–54
Harold’s military preparations and coinage 54
His relations to the Church, to Gisa, Wulfstan, and
other Prelates 55–56
Formal concurrence of Northumberland in the election;
Northumberland never fairly represented in the
Witenagemót 57–58
Refusal of the Northumbrians to acknowledge Harold;
probable agency of Eadwine and Morkere 58–60
Harold, accompanied by Wulfstan, goes to York and
wins over the Northumbrians 60–65
April Harold’s Easter Feast and Gemót at Westminster 65
16–23, 1066
Effect of Harold’s reign on London 65–66
Eadgyth at Winchester 67
Ecclesiastical appointments in the Gemót; Ealdred
of Abingdon and Thurstan of Ely; importance of
Thurstan’s appointment 68–70
January The Crown challenged by William 70–71
15?
April The Comet; its effects on men’s minds 71–74
24–30
Summary 74
CHAPTER XII.
THE LATER REIGN OF WILLIAM IN NORMANDY. 1051–1066.
1051 Recapitulation; William returns from England 75
Character and divisions of the period; William’s
wars with France; his war with Maine; the Breton
war and the oath of Harold 76–78
§ 1. _The Marriage of William and Matilda._ 1049–1060.
Position of William; political necessity of his
marriage; domestic purity of his life 78–80
His counsellors recommend a marriage with Matilda
of Flanders 80
Position and greatness of the Counts of Flanders 81–83
1036–1067 Reign of Baldwin the Fifth; his connexion with
France and England 83–84
Matilda’s former marriage and children 84–87
1048–1049 Beginning of William’s courtship; the marriage
forbidden by the Council of Rheims 87–89
1053 Celebration of the marriage; its coincidence with
the captivity of Leo the Ninth 90–93
Opposition of Archbishop Malger; his character 93–96
1055 Malger deposed; his banishment and death 96–98
1055–1069 Maurilius, Archbishop of Rouen, his life and
character 98–101
Lanfranc opposes the marriage; his quarrel and
reconciliation with the Duke 101–103
1054–1059 Lanfranc supports the marriage at Rome 104–106
1059–1060 Lanfranc returns with the dispensation 106
Foundation of the two Abbeys of Caen 108–110
1066? Anselm Prior of Bec; excellence of William’s
ecclesiastical appointments 110–111
Children of William and Matilda 111–113
§ 2. _William’s Wars with France._ 1053–1060.
Character of the period; Norman rebellions
supported by France and Anjou 113–114
Greatness of Normandy; its natural hostility to
France 114–116
1048–1053 Revolt of William Busac 116
The Counts of Eu; their ecclesiastical foundations 116–118
William Busac defends Eu against the Duke; he is
banished 118–119
1058 He takes refuge in France and receives the County
of Soissons 119–120
1053 Revolt of William of Arques; his former conduct;
the Duke occupies the castle; description of
Arques 120–125
The castle betrayed to Count William; his revolt;
march of the Duke from Valognes 125–128
The Duke blockades the castle; King Henry helps
the rebels; ambush at Saint Aubin 129–133
Death of Ingelram; history of the Counts of
Ponthieu 134–136
The King retires; Moulins betrayed to him 136–138
The castle surrenders; Count William retires to
Boulogne 138–140
Hatred of the French towards Normandy; enmity of
Geoffrey of Anjou and other princes; great
confederacy against Normandy 140–144
1054 Double invasion of Normandy under King Henry and
his brother Odo 144–150
William’s preparations; his plan of defence and
division of his forces 150–153
Ravages of the French; they reach Mortemer 153–155
The French surprised and cut to pieces at
Mortemer; imprisonment of Guy of Ponthieu 155–158
Promotion of William of Warren; he marries the
Duke’s step-daughter Gundrada 158
The news brought to William; his stratagem and
message to the King 158–160
Panic and retreat of the French army 161
Illustrations of the Norman national character 161–163
William fortifies Breteuil 163–164
1055 Peace with France; William authorized to make
conquests at the expense of Anjou 164
1048–1063 Extension of William’s frontier to the south;
Domfront and Ambrières 164–166
1055 New fortifications at Ambrières; William and
Geoffrey before Ambrières; flight of Count
Geoffrey and homage of Geoffrey of Mayenne 166–169
Further extension of William’s frontier towards
Anjou 169
1055–1058 Three years’ peace 170
August, Last French and Angevin invasion; William’s
1058 defensive policy; advance and ravages of the
French 170–172
The French at Varaville; William’s march; the
French surprised and cut to pieces; the King
retreats 172–177
Peace with France; restoration of Tillières 177
1060 Death of King Henry; his Russian marriage 177–178
1059 Coronation of Philip the First 178
1060 Baldwin of Flanders Regent for Philip; death of
Geoffrey Martel; his dominions divided between
his nephews 179–180
1058 Coincidence of the Battle of Varaville with
Harold’s pilgrimage; change in the state of
Gaul after the deaths of Henry and Geoffrey 180–182
§ 3. _The War of Maine._ 1060–1064.
1060–1063 Banishment of various Norman nobles; affairs of
Saint Evroul; Synod of Caen 183–185
Old Norman claims over Maine; early history of the
country; ecclesiastical and popular element at
Le Mans 185–188
924–978 Alleged grants of Maine to Rolf, to Hugh the Great,
and to Geoffrey Grisegonelle 188–189
Rivalry of the Counts of Maine with the Bishops
and with the Counts of Anjou 189
960–994 Count Hugh and Bishop Sainfred 189–190
987–994 Fulk Nerra overruns Maine 190
1015–1036 Count Herbert Wake-the-Dog 190–193
994–1036 Avesgaud Bishop of Le Mans; his disputes with
Herbert 190–192
1016–1028 Herbert’s relations with Anjou; his share in the
Battle of Pontlevois; his imprisonment at
Saintes 191–192
1035–1051 Hugh Count of Maine; regency of Herbert Bacco 193
1036–1058 Gervase Bishop of Le Mans; he commends the
Bishoprick to Geoffrey Martel; expulsion of
Herbert Bacco 193–194
1044–1051 Gervase imprisoned by Geoffrey Martel 195
1051–1061 Geoffrey Martel occupies Le Mans 195
1051–1058 Gervase takes refuge in Normandy; he becomes
Archbishop of Rheims 195–196
1060 Herbert commends himself to William on the death
of Geoffrey; settlement of the succession 196–199
1063 Herbert dies childless; succession of Walter and
Biota 199–200
War of Maine; William ravages the country;
surrender of Le Mans 201–207
Death of Walter and Biota; William charged with
poisoning them 207–208
Geoffrey of Mayenne still holds out; conquest of
Mayenne 208–212
Betrothal and death of Margaret of Maine 212–213
Importance of the conquest of Maine; its connexion
with that of England 213–215
§ 4. _The Visit of Harold and the Breton War._ 1064?
Position of William and Harold 215–216
Their meeting; contradictory nature of the stories;
connexion between the bequest of Eadward and the
oath of Harold 217–218
Three different versions; Harold’s presence in
Normandy probably accidental; probable presence
of other members of his family 219–221
Harold sets sail at Bosham; he is wrecked in
Ponthieu and imprisoned by Guy 222–223
He is delivered by William 224–226
Harold at Rouen; he engages to marry William’s
daughter and receives knighthood 226–229
Harold joins William in the war against Britanny 229
1040–1066 Conan Count of the Bretons 230
1056–1062 Relations of Conan, Odo, and Hoel; a party in
Britanny favourable to William 230–231
Conan’s challenge; Dol held for William 232–233
March of William and Harold to Dol; description
of the city 233–237
Flight of Conan from Dol 237
Siege and surrender of Dinan 238–240
Harold’s oath; various statements as to time,
place, and terms; question of the relics 240–247
Probable nature of the oath; an engagement to
marry William’s daughter, combined with a formal
homage 248–251
Moral aspect of the case; the English people not
affected 252–253
Summary 254
CHAPTER XIII.
THE NEGOTIATIONS OF DUKE WILLIAM.
January–August, 1066.
Position of William at Eadward’s death 255
Effect on his schemes of Harold’s sudden election 256
§ 1. _The Negotiations between William and Harold._
The news brought to William; his dialogue with
William Fitz-Osbern 256–259
January William’s Embassy to Harold; its object; its
15? 1066 possible connexion with the Northumbrian
discontents 259–262
Constitutional language attributed to Harold 262–265
William’s point gained in the Embassy 265
§ 2. _Claims and Arguments of William._
No hope for William but in war; no English party
in his favour 266
Difficulties of the enterprise; comparison with
the Norman exploits in Apulia 267–268
William’s appeal to his own Duchy; influence of
Lanfranc; religious character given to the
enterprise 268–272
No right of any kind in William; Harold’s oath
irrelevant to the question 272–273
Bearing of William’s appeal to public opinion and
to the Papacy 273–274
Fair colouring put on a bad cause 274–275
Harold’s claim unintelligible on the Continent 275–276
William’s claim adapted to continental opinion 276–279
Wrong done to the Norman saints; forestalling of
the crusading spirit 280
General character of William’s case; various
motives appealed to; Norman grudge against
England 281–283
Charges against the English Church; William
outwitted by Hildebrand 284–286
§ 3. _The Norman Council and the Assembly of Lillebonne._
1066 William consults a select Council 286–288
Its members pledge their own services, but
recommend the calling of a larger assembly 288
The Assembly of Lillebonne; its constitution 289–290
Position and history of Lillebonne 290–292
Parliamentary spirit of the Assembly; strong
opposition to the enterprise 292–295
Attempt of William Fitz-Osbern to cajole the
Assembly; his speech to William; his offers
disowned by the Barons 295–297
No vote passed, but the Barons severally won
over by William 297–299
§ 4. _William’s Alliance with Tostig._
William’s supporters in England to be found only
among the Norman settlers 299
Position of Tostig; his alliance with William 300–303
May, 1066 He attacks England with William’s consent 304
§ 5. _William’s Negotiations with Foreign Powers._
William invites volunteers from all parts 305
The Conquest not a national Norman enterprise, but
a Norman character impressed on the whole 305–306
The foreign troops mainly adventurers; few foreign
princes served 306
William’s embassies to foreign powers; he sends
to King Henry of Germany 306–307
1056–1066 Condition of the Empire in the early days of Henry
the Fourth; comparison of his minority with that
of William 307–308
No mention of the Norman embassy in German writers;
probable state of the case 308–309
Alleged embassy to Swend of Denmark 309–310
Embassy to Philip of France; William offers to hold
England of him 310–311
Negotiations with Baldwin of Flanders 312
Zeal of Eustace of Boulogne; Arnold of Ardres 312–313
Great number of Breton auxiliaries; Alan Fergant 313–314
1066 Volunteers from Anjou, &c.; state of Anjou; war
between Geoffrey and Fulk 314–315
1066 War of Conan of Britanny against Anjou; legend of
his death 315–316
William charged with the death of Conan 316
1061–1073 Negotiations with Rome; Papacy of Alexander the
Second; influence of Hildebrand 317
William’s embassy; debate in the Conclave and
strong opposition 317–319
Decision in favour of William; bull and gifts of
Alexander 320–321
Complete success of William’s diplomacy 321–322
Summary 322
CHAPTER XIV.
THE NORWEGIAN INVASION AND THE CAMPAIGN OF STAMFORDBRIDGE.
May–September, 1066.
Course of events before William’s invasion 323
§ 1. _The First Expedition of Tostig. May, 1066._
Easter, Harold in full possession of England 324
1066
May Tostig lands in Wight; his ravages 324–325
May– Great preparations of Harold; he hastens to
September meet Tostig 325–326
Tostig ravages Lindesey; he is driven away by
Eadwine and Morkere, and takes refuge in
Scotland 326–327
§ 2. _Tostig’s Applications to Swend and Harold Hardrada._
Saga of Harold Hardrada; mythical character of its
details 327–328
1064 War between Harold Hardrada and Swend; peace
concluded between them 328
Contradictions between the English, Norwegian, and
Norman stories 329
Norwegian version; Tostig asks help of Swend and
is refused 329–330
He goes to Harold Hardrada; discussion between
Tostig and Harold 331–333
Harold determines on the expedition; no mention
of any Thing as consulted; Norwegian estimate of
the English Housecarls 333–334
§ 3. _The Invasion of Harold Hardrada. September, 1066._
Preparations of Harold of England for the defence
of the South; the North left to Eadwine and
Morkere; difficulty of keeping the _fyrd_ on
foot 335–337
September The army disbanded; Harold returns to London with
8, 1066 the fleet; question of naval operations against
the Normans 338–339
Harold Hardrada sets sail; he designs to reign in
England; his wives, children, and treasures 339–341
Greatness of the expedition; the last Scandinavian
expedition against England; omens on the voyage 341–343
Harold Hardrada in Orkney 344
1014–1064 Reign of Thorfinn in Orkney 344
Tostig and Harold Hardrada meet in the Tyne 345
Policy of Malcolm; accession of various princes
and volunteers 345–346
The fleet on the coast of Yorkshire; its ravages;
burning of Scarborough; the English fleet
retires into the Wharf 346–347
The Northmen sail up the Humber, and land at
Riccall; Tostig and Harold Hardrada march on
York 348–349
Wednesday, Eadwine and Morkere march to meet them; Battle of
September Fulford; defeat of the English 349–351
20, 1066
Sunday, 24 Surrender of York 352–353
§ 4. _The March of Harold and the Battle of Stamfordbridge._
Hostages from Yorkshire to be delivered to Harold
Hardrada at Stamfordbridge; description of
Stamfordbridge and Aldby 353–356
Position of the Norwegian army 357
News of the Norwegian landing brought to Harold
of England; he determines to march to the North;
legend of his sickness and recovery 357–360
Harold’s march; gathering of recruits 360–362
Sunday, 24 He reaches Tadcaster and reviews the fleet 362
Monday, 25 He passes through York; Battle of Stamfordbridge 362–363
The Norwegian Saga; its mythical character 363–367
Sudden advance of the English; loyalty of the
country 367–368
The battle begins on the right side of the Derwent 369
The bridge defended by a single Northman 369–370
The English cross the bridge; main fight on the
left side; complete victory of the English 370–371
Deaths of Tostig, Harold Hardrada, &c.; escape of
Godred; burial of Tostig 371–373
Harold’s mild dealing with Olaf 374–375
October 1? Harold at York; news of William’s landing 375–376
CHAPTER XV.
THE NORMAN INVASION AND THE CAMPAIGN OF HASTINGS.
August–October, 1066.
§ 1. _The Building of the Fleet._
Success of all William’s negotiations 377–378
Summer, Formation of the Norman fleet; contributions of
1066 ships; gifts of Remigius of Fécamp and of the
Duchess Matilda 378–380
Number and character of the ships 381
June 15 Ecclesiastical affairs; Council at Bonneville;
Lanfranc Abbot of Saint Stephen’s 381–382
June 18 Consecration of the Holy Trinity at Caen;
dedication of Cecily 383
§ 2. _The Embarcation and Voyage of William. August–September, 1066._
August 12 The fleet at the mouth of the Dive 384–386
Delay at the Dive; good order maintained in the
army 386–387
Numbers of the army 387
Spies sent by Harold; their treatment by William 388–389
[September William changes his position; probable influence
8] of the disbanding of Harold’s army 389–390
September William sails to Saint Valery; description and
12 history of the place 391–392
September Losses of the fleet; further delay at Saint
12–27 Valery; religious ceremonies and procession 392–395
Wednesday, The south-wind blows; the embarcation 395–397
27
William sets sail; details of the voyage 398–400
Thursday, William lands at Pevensey; history and description
28 of the place 400–402
491 Taking of Anderida by Ælle and Cissa 402–404
Defenceless state of the coast; no resistance
to William’s landing 404–405
Details of the landing; William’s ready wit 405–407
Friday, William marches to Hastings; history and importance
September of the town; he encamps on the hill 407–409
29
Question of losses and skirmishes; fate of the
soothsayer 410–411
William systematically ravages the country 411–412
Robert the son of Wymarc counsels William to
retreat; his answer 413–416
§ 3. _The Southern March of Harold. October 1–13, 1066._
October 1? The news brought to Harold at York; messengers
from Pevensey and from Hastings 416–419
Harold’s position; his Council at York; he begins
his march to London 420–421
Merlswegen in command of the North; Eadwine and
Morkere keep back from the war 421–422
General zeal of the nation; charge of parsimony
against Harold 422–423
The army joined by the men of Wessex, East-Anglia,
and Eastern Mercia; loyalty of the Earldom of
Waltheof; special position of the men of Kent
and London 423–424
Names of Englishmen preserved; Esegar, Ælfric,
Breme, Godric, Thurkill, Eadric the Deacon; the
Abbots Leofric and Ælfwig 425–427
October Harold reaches London; he waits for fresh troops 427
5–11
His visit to Waltham; his vow; miracle of the
Holy Rood 428–430
Messages between William and Harold; mission of
Hugh Margot to Harold; Harold’s counter-message
and challenge 430–433
Harold eager for battle; advice of Gyrth; Harold
refuses to ravage the land 433–437
Thursday, Harold marches from London; number of his army;
October 12 his plan and tactics; he fights on ground of
his own choice 437–440
Friday, Harold encamps on Senlac; description of the site;
13 its advantages; he fortifies the hill 441–445
Stories of desertions, spies, &c.; William’s last
message and challenge; Harold refuses the single
combat 445–450
§ 4. _The Battle. October 14, 1066._
The night before the battle; ceremonial devotion
of the Normans; alleged revelry of the English 450–453
Saturday, Battle of Senlac; William’s speech to his army 453–454
14
The Normans march to Telham and arm; story of the
reversed hauberk 455–457
Vital brings news of the English army; William
vows to build a monastery on Senlac 457–458
Threefold division of William’s army; on the left
the Bretons, on the right the French; the
Normans in the centre 458–461
Armour and weapons of the Normans 462
The standard and the group around it; William and
his brothers; the standard borne by Toustain
the White 462–465
The Norman chivalry; William Patry, Roger the
Bigod, William Malet 465–467
Three classes of troops in each division; order
of the attack 467–468
The two armies in sight; Harold’s speech; story
of the English spy; Harold dismounts at the
Standard 468–469
Tales of Harold and Gyrth 469–471
Defences and close array of the English; their
armour and weapons 471–474
The English ensigns; post of the King and his
kinsfolk by the Standard 475–476
Points of attack of the three divisions of the
enemy 477
9 A.M. Beginning of the battle; exploits of Taillefer 477–478
First attack; Norman and English war-cries; the
Normans beaten back 479–481
Flight of the Bretons on the left; the light-armed
English pursue; panic of the Normans; William and
Odo recall the fugitives 481–484
Second attack; personal exploits of William; deaths
of Gyrth and Leofwine 484–487
Partial success of the French on the right, but
the general attack repulsed 487–488
William orders the stratagem of the feigned
flight; the English on the right pursue; the
Bretons turn 488–490
Slaughter of the French at the detached hill and
in the western ravine 490
3 P.M. The Normans ride up the hill; single combats;
personal exploits of William, Harold, and others 491–495
The English resistance slackens, but the battle
undecided while Harold lives 495–496
6 P.M. The archers shoot in the air; Harold wounded in
the eye and disabled 497–498
Fight round the Standard; the Dragon borne off and
the Standard beaten down 498
Harold killed by Eustace and others; insults to
his body 499–500
Resistance and slaughter of the King’s following 500–501
Escape of the wounded Esegar and Leofric 501
Flight of the light-armed; pursuit of the Normans
and slaughter of the pursuers in Malfosse; end
of the battle 502–503
Effect of the death of Harold 504
Military estimate of the battle 503–507
§ 5. _The Burial of Harold. October–December, 1066._
William returns to the hill; his midnight feast 507–509
Sunday, Burial of the dead; burial of the English allowed;
October 15 discovery of Ælfwig and his monks; Harold’s body
not forthcoming 509–510
Osgod, Æthelric, and Gytha ask for the body;
William commands that it shall be buried on
the sea-shore 511–513
The body found by Eadgyth Swanneshals, and buried
on the hill at Hastings by William Malet 513–514
Legend of Harold’s escape, penitence, and death
at Chester; mythical character of the story 515–518
1066–1540 Harold’s alleged burial at Waltham; his
translation; destruction of his tomb 518–520
1307 The body of Edward the First at Waltham;
comparison between Harold and Edward 521–522
CHAPTER XVI.
THE INTERREGNUM.
October 15–December 25, 1066.
The throne vacant; William expects a general
submission; no submission as yet 523–524
The news brought to London; Eadwine and Morkere
reach London, and send Ealdgyth to Chester 525
Gemót in London to choose a King; no qualified
candidate; candidature of Eadwine and Morkere;
election of Eadgar 525–527
Character of the choice; consent of Eadwine and
Morkere; alleged opposition of certain Bishops 528–529
November 1 Eadgar not crowned; death of Abbot Leofric; the
choice of his successor Brand confirmed by
Eadgar 530
The Londoners and others eager for battle; treason
of Eadwine and Morkere; no further general
combination against William 531–532
October William at Hastings; his policy of subduing the
15–20 country piecemeal 533
20 His ravages; he marches to Romney; his vengeance 533–534
21 He marches to Dover; description of the castle;
its surrender; the town accidentally burned 535–538
October 29 The Kentish towns submit; William marches
towards Canterbury and receives its submission
on the road 538–539
October William encamps at the Broken Tower; his sickness
31–December and consequent delay 540
1
He sends an embassy to Winchester; position of
Eadgyth; Winchester submits 540–541
c. London still holds out; William marches against
December 1 it; skirmish and burning of Southwark 541–542
He keeps on the right bank of the Thames and
crosses at Wallingford; object of this course 543–544
Esegar in command in London; tale of his
communications with William; his messenger
deceived by William 544–546
Submission to William agreed on in London 546
William at Berkhampstead; Eadgar, Ealdred, and
others submit to him there and are graciously
received 547–548
William invited to assume the Crown; probable
feelings of Englishmen at the moment 548–550
William’s council; his professed unwillingness
to accept the Crown 550–551
Speech of Hamon of Thouars; William accepts the
Crown; the coronation fixed for Christmas 551–553
Position of William; triumph of his policy 553
He sends to fortify a post in London 553
His march to London; opposite accounts of his
conduct 554–555
Alleged refusal of Stigand to consecrate William;
Stigand’s real position and share in the
ceremony; Ealdred the actual consecrator 555–557
December 25 Coronation of William; the approach to the church
guarded by Norman horsemen 557
The procession and ecclesiastical election 558–559
The Normans fire the houses near the church;
William left alone with the officiating clergy 560
William’s oath and consecration 560–561
Summary 561–562
APPENDIX.
NOTE A. The Authority of the Bayeux Tapestry 563
B. Eadward’s Bequest of the Crown to Harold 576
C. The Election of Harold 597
D. The Coronation of Harold 612
E. The Ancient Coronation Office 622
F. The Date of the Marriage of Harold and Ealdgyth 625
G. The Character of Harold’s Government 627
H. The Coinage of Harold 631
I. The Opposition of Northumberland to Harold’s Accession 632
K. The Political Position of the Lady Eadgyth 635
L. The Affairs of the Abbey of Ely at the time of
Harold’s Accession 636
M. The Comet of 1066 640
N. The Marriage of William and Matilda 645
O. The Children of William and Matilda 658
P. The Revolt of William Busac 662
Q. The Revolt of William of Arques 664
R. The Bequest of Eadward to William and the Oath of
Harold 667
S. The Ælfgyva of the Bayeux Tapestry 696
T. The Breton Campaign of William and Harold 700
U. The Embassies exchanged between William and Harold 701
W. William’s Councils and Negotiations 703
X. The Movements of Tostig after his Banishment 708
Y. Arnold of Ardres 713
Z. The Death of Conan 714
AA. The Operations of the English Fleet in 1066 716
BB. The March of Harold to York 718
CC. The Details of the Battle of Stamfordbridge 720
DD. William’s Ravages in Sussex 728
EE. Names of Englishmen at Senlac 729
FF. The Dates of the Events between the two Great Battles 732
GG. The Messages between Harold and William 733
HH. The English Numbers at Senlac 740
II. The Miraculous Warning given to Harold before the
Battle 742
KK. The Details of the Battle of Senlac 743
LL. Ralph of Norfolk 751
MM. The Burial of Harold 754
NN. Eadgyth Swanneshals 763
OO. The Ætheling Eadgar 766
PP. The Submission at Berkhampstead 767
ADDITIONS AND CORRECTIONS.
p. 6, l. 14. For “boy,” here and in one or two other places, it would
be safer to say “young.” On Eadgar’s probable age see p. 766.
p. 37, l. 14, for “among all the Kings whose tombs are gathered
together” read “among all the tombs of Kings which are gathered
together.”
p. 52, p. 24, and p. 53, note 1. I see that, when I wrote this, I had
not fully seen my way to the true history of the two East-Anglian
Ralphs. The Staller died soon after Eadward’s death, and his son, the
future Earl, was banished. See Appendix LL.
p. 55, note 2, for “amplori” read “ampliori.”
p. 118, l. 13. Bishop Hugh had a son named Roger, “Rogerius Hugonis
Episcopi filius.” See the Trinity Cartulary at Rouen, pp. 442, 443.
p. 133, note 1, for “sur” read “tur.”
p. 135, l. 2. On Nithard’s birth and his father’s works at Saint
Riquier, see also Nithard’s own History, iv. 5.
p. 136, note 4, add “Ord. Vit. 504 A.”
p. 139, note 2, for “armatura” read “armaturæ.”
p. 156, note 3, after “the war” read “took place.”
p. 179, note 2, for “ut pote” read “utpote.”
p. 183, l. 5, for “we presently find” read “we shall presently find,”
and l. 13, for “the” read “their.”
p. 190, note 3, for “Fulko” read “Fulco.”
p. 195, last side-note, for “1061” read “1051.”
p. 224, note 1. Guy had two children, Ivo, who was at Senlac (see p.
499, note 4), and Agnes, wife of Robert of Belesme, who succeeded him.
It should be noticed that in the Tapestry, pl. 4, he rides on a mule.
p. 227, l. 12. I now feel very little doubt that Harold’s marriage
happened after his coronation, at the time of his journey to York.
p. 234, note 1, for “makes” read “puts.”
p. 244, l. 5 from the bottom. I here meant William of Poitiers, who
makes no mention of the marriage in his direct account of the oath,
though he afterwards takes it for granted in an incidental allusion.
See pp. 687, 701.
p. 247, side-note, for “into breach” read “into a breach.”
p. 264, note 1, put a sign of interrogation after “permittere.”
p. 266, l. 7 from bottom. The case of Ralph of Norfolk as a possible
exception is to be borne in mind.
p. 276, l. 7, for “looked upon as, wherever” read “looked upon, as
wherever.”
p. 312, l. 6 from bottom. On the relations between William and Eustace
see p. 748.
p. 343, l. 4, for “Northern King” read “a Northern King.”
p. 363, l. 11, for “smite” read “strike.”
p. 377, note 1. I ought here to have quoted Orderic’s fuller estimate
of William of Poitiers and of Guy of Amiens (503 D); “De cujus
[Guillelmi Regis] probitate, et eximiis moribus ac prosperis eventibus
et strenuis admirandisque actibus Guillelmus Pictavinus, Lexoviensis
Archidiaconus, affluenter tractavit, et librum polito sermone et magni
sensûs profunditate præclarum edidit. Ipse siquidem prædicti Regis
Capellanus longo tempore exstitit, et ea quæ oculis suis viderit et
quibus interfuerit longo relatu vel copioso indubitanter enucleare
studuit, quamvis librum usque ad finem Regis adversis casibus impeditus
perducere nequiverit. Guido etiam Præsul Ambianensis metricum carmen
edidit, quo Maronem et Papinium gesta heroum pangentes imitatus
Senlacium bellum descripsit, _Heraldum vituperans et condemnans,
Guillermum verò collaudans et magnificans_.” This is at least as true
of the Archdeacon as it is of the Bishop.
p. 383, note 1. The charter of Roger of Montgomery is a grant to the
Trinity monastery at Rouen. Another grant of the same date to the same
monastery I have mentioned, as bearing on another point in the history,
in p. 717. In p. 451, on the same cartulary, we find the donation of a
companion of William, who seems to have been mortally wounded or worn
out in the campaign; “Eâ tempestate quâ Guillelmus, Dux Normannorum
egregius, cum classico apparatu ingentique exercitu Anglorum terram
expetiit, quidam miles, nomine Osmundus de Bodes, cum aliis illuc
profectus, et languore correptus atque ad extrema perductus, pro animæ
suæ remedio, dedit Sanctæ Trinitati omnem decimam terræ suæ in alodio,”
&c.
p. 384, l. 8 from bottom. On William’s possible precautions with regard
to Maine, see p. 683.
p. 428, note 2, for “mere” read “more.”
p. 433, note 1, for “Chronicles” read “Chronicle.”
p. 445, l. 5, dele “threefold.”
p. 458, note, for “adjuventur congruum,” read “adjuventur, congruum.”
p. 466, note 4. On _compater_ see Earle, Parallel Chronicles, p. 318.
What a gap between this use of the word and the Sedition of the Ciompi.
p. 467, note. On the origin of Ælfgifu the wife of Ælfgar, see p. 699,
and vol. ii. p. 629.
p. 472, l. 12. On placing the inferior troops in the rear, see the
tactics of Eadmund at Sherstone, vol. i. p. 424.
p. 474, note 1, for “συμβουλύοις” read “συμβουλεύοις.”
p. 476, note 2. Cf. vol. i. p. 577.
p. 477, l. 14, read, “at the eastern corner of the hill, where the
present road from Hastings enters the town of Battle.”
p. 483, l. 1. Cf. the account of the danger of Severus at the battle
of Lyons, Dion. lxxv. 6; αὐτὸς τὸν ἵππον ἀποβαλὼν ἐκινδύνευσεν, ὡς δὲ
εἶδε φεύγοντας πάντας τοὺς ἑαυτοῦ, τὴν χλαμύδα περιῥῤηξάμενος καὶ τὸ
ξίφος σπασάμενος, ἐς τοὺς φεύγοντας εἰςεπήδησεν ὅπως ἢ αἰσχυνθέντες
ὑποστρέψωσιν ἢ καὶ αὐτὸς αὐτοῖς συναπόληται. So Ælius Spartianus,
Severus, 11; “Ingens periculum equi casu adiit, ita ut mortuus ictu
plumbeæ crederetur.”
p. 486, l. i. On the sword, see p. 749.
p. 491, l. 2 from bottom, _dele_ “with a slight inclination of the
ground in their favour.”
p. 511, note 1. I accept this implied statement of Florence that
the son of Harold and Ealdgyth was named Ulf, rather than the other
statement in the “Genealogia Regum West-Saxonum” (Thorpe, i. 276),
which gives him the name of his father; “Haroldus ... de Reginâ
Aldgithâ, Comitis Ælfgari filiâ, habuit filium Haroldum;” though this
passage is a strong confirmation of my conjecture in p. 764 that
Harold’s other sons were children of Eadgyth Swanneshals. I cannot
help thinking that the statement of William of Malmesbury (iv. 329)
that Magnus of Norway in his expedition to Anglesey was accompanied
by a “Haroldus, filius Haroldi Regis quondam Angliæ,” is a confusion,
arising perhaps from the description in Florence of Magnus himself, as
a grandson of Harold Hardrada. No such person appears in the account in
Florence or Orderic (768), and the Chronicle simply calls the invaders
“utwikingas.”
p. 527, note 2. On the other hand the Legend of Siward (Chroniques
Anglo-Normandes, ii. 111) expressly denies that Waltheof was at Senlac;
“Comes Waldevus non interfuit conflictui quum Dux Willelmus Bastardus
Anglos oppressit et devicit.” The conflicting authorities are about
equally worthless.
p. 533, last line. On the physical changes along this coast, see Earle,
Parallel Chronicles, 315–317.
p. 539, note 1. This legend is doubtless the same as the legend of
Birnam Wood coming to Dunsinane.
p. 543, note 3. Another provision of the same kind for the Housecarls
is found at Dorchester in Dorsetshire, Domesday, 75.
p. 557, last line. Why did William have a new crown made? One would
have thought that he would have made a special point of being crowned
with the crown which had been worn by Eadward. Was it held to be
desecrated by the irregular coronation of Harold?
p. 607, l. 11 from bottom, for “thirteenth” read “twelfth.”
p. 620, l. 11 from bottom, after “takes its place,” add “Harold the
First seems to have been crowned at Oxford, Harthacnut at Canterbury;
Eadward was crowned at Winchester, perhaps at Canterbury also.”
p. 624, l. 20. See also Depping, Expeditions Maritimes des Normands, i.
216; Pearson, Early and Middle Ages, i. 188. Depping’s speculations are
amusing enough, though he does not go quite so deep as Ménard.
p. 641, l. 15. To these German accounts add Annales Wirziburgenses
(Pertz, ii. 245), “A. 1066. Cometa videtur; et Anglia a Normannis
subjicitur,” and Annales Besuenses (ii. 249), “A. 1066. Stella cometes
apparuit, et eo anno Rex Anglorum Haroaldus occiditur.”
p. 660, l. 9 from bottom. See p. 703.
p. 668, l. 4, for “fratuelis” read “fratruelis.”
p. 670, l. 14, for “need” read “accept.”
p. 684, l. 18. It is a charter to Westminster, quoted by Ellis, i. 312.
p. 685, l. 3 from bottom. For another oath taken “supra philacteria
reliquiarum,” see Dudo, 126 C.
p. 694, l. 11 from bottom. Yet compare the strange statement of the
Encomiast (see vol. i. p. 454) about the Æthelings Eadward and Ælfred
being sent into Normandy for education.
p. 709, l. 9. I ought not to have called “Ordericus Angligena” a
“foreign writer,” but he wrote in a foreign country, and from a foreign
point of view. For all these purposes he counts as a Norman writer.
p. 714, l. 19. “Ernulfus” or “Arnulfus de Hesding” occurs also as
a large landowner in Wiltshire, Domesday, 66, 69 _b_, and in other
counties.
p. 730, l. 24. I know not whether I ought to have added to my list two
other Hampshire Thegns of small estate, Eadnoth and Eadwig, who appear
in the same page of Domesday; “Sudberie tenuerunt Ednod et Edui in
alodius de Rege E. et post mortem ejus ipsi quoque sunt mortui. Quidam
vero proximus eorum Cola redemit terram de Willelmo Comite.” This does
not positively show that Eadnoth and Eadwig died at Senlac, but the
time of their death and the apparent confiscation of their lands look
like it.
p. 731, l. 23. Several curious personal details of Godric will be found
in Domesday, 57 _b_, 58, 149.
p. 736, l. 2, for “six” read “twelve.”
p. 738, l. 6, for “in vigiles” read “invigiles.”
p. 745, l. 11. Sir Edward Creasy, in his lately published History of
England (i. 208), shows a better understanding of the ground than most
modern writers.
p. 748, l. 7 from bottom. One or other of these stories about Eustace,
it is hard to see which, seems to be darkly alluded to by William of
Malmesbury (iii. 244). After mentioning how William had three horses
killed under him (see p. 485, note 2), he adds, “Perstitit tamen
magnanimi Ducis et corpus et animus, quamvis familiari susurro a
custodibus corporis revocaretur; perstitit, inquam, donec victoriam
plenam superveniens nox infunderet.”
p. 750, l. 3 from bottom. Thomas Wikes, in the opening of his history,
ingeniously rolls together several accounts, and makes altogether short
work of the battle. “In primo conflictu totum pondus prœlii conversum
est in Regem, qui coxâ prope nates pene præcisâ, letaliter vulneratus
post modicum tempus interiit. Compertâ Regis morte dilapsus est ejus
exercitus, fere omnibus qui fugere non poterant interfectis.” This
reminds one of a passage of William of Malmesbury, which I ought to
have quoted elsewhere. After his description of the battle, which he
certainly makes out to have been hard fought enough, he goes on to
make his celebrated comparison between the Normans and the English.
After speaking of the English love of eating and drinking, he adds
(iii. 245), “Sequebantur vitia ebrietatis socia, quæ virorum animos
effœminant. Hinc factum est, ut magis temeritate et furore præcipiti
quam scientiâ militari Willelmo congressi, uno prœlio, et ipso
perfacili, servituti se patriamque pessumdederint.” I believe that some
modern writers have inferred from this that the English went drunk into
the battle, and have taken this as a text to preach the advantages of
temperance.
p. 751, l. 2 from bottom, for “difference” read “differences.”
p. 754, l. 6, for “text” read “notes.”
THE HISTORY
OF THE
NORMAN CONQUEST OF ENGLAND.
CHAPTER XI.
THE ELECTION OF HAROLD.[1]
January 5th–April 16th, 1066.
[Sidenote: Preeminent importance of the year 1066.]
The central stage of our journey is now reached. We are now on the
threshold of the great year, of that year whose effects on all later
English, on all later European, history can never be wiped out. No
one year in later English history can for a moment compare, in lasting
importance, with the year which, with some small exaggeration, we
may call the year of the Norman Conquest. [Sidenote: No later time
in which one year and one day stand out in the same way.] There have
indeed been later periods in our history which have been as memorable
in their results as the invasion of William itself. The events of the
thirteenth, of the sixteenth, of the seventeenth century, are all fully
entitled to be set side by side with the events of the eleventh. But in
all these cases we have to set the work of a whole generation against
the work of a single year. One age is famous for the great struggle
against alien domination, and for the final establishment of English
freedom in its later form. Another age gave us all the results, for
good and for evil, of the great Reformation of religion. A third age
confirmed on a surer and more lasting basis those political rights
which the thirteenth century had won back, but which the fifteenth and
sixteenth had once more brought into jeopardy. But, in all these great
periods of change, the work was gradual; there is no single moment, no
single year, on which we can place our finger as the moment or the year
when the work was actually done. In the eleventh century the work was
gradual also. A long series of events prepared the way for William’s
enterprise, and, when he began his work, it needed more than a single
day or a single year to put him in full possession of the Empire for
which he had yearned so long. Still in the eleventh century there is
a single year and a single day which stand forth in a way in which no
single day or year stands forth in the ages after them. There is no
later year to compare to the year in which the Crown of England was
worn by the last King of the old sacred and immemorial stock, by the
first and last King who reigned purely because he was the best and
bravest among his people, and by the first and last King who could
boast that he held his Kingdom purely of God and his own sword. There
is no one day in later times to compare to that memorable morning when
Northern and Southern Europe, when England and Normandy, when Harold
and William, met face to face in the great wager of battle on the day
of Saint Calixtus. For days of equal moment in our history we must go
back to far earlier times, to times which are still half shrouded in
the mist of legend. For a day like the day when England bowed to her
first purely foreign lord, we must go back to the day when the first
Englishman was baptized into the faith of Christ, to the day when the
first Englishman set foot on the shores of Britain.
§ 1. _Sickness and Death of Eadward. December 28, 1065–January 5, 1066._
[Sidenote: Eadward’s last sickness. December 1065–January 5, 1066.]
We left Eadward on his death-bed. His work was over; his newly built
minster was hallowed, though he had been himself shut out from taking
any part in that great ceremony. The Witan had been gathered, as usual,
for the Christmas festival; the special summons to the dedication of
Saint Peter’s, and, still more, the pressing urgency of the national
affairs, had, we may well believe, called together a greater number
than usual of the Thegns and Prelates [Sidenote: National anxiety as to
the succession.] of the land. It was plain that the nation would soon
be called on to elect a King, and to elect a King under circumstances
of which no past age had ever seen the like. Perhaps vague reports may
already have found their way into the land, warning men of the dangers
which were likely to threaten England alike from her own exiles and
from the foreign kinsman of the dying King. But, even if no thought
of Tostig or of William crossed men’s minds, there was enough to make
those days of Eadward’s last sickness days of the deepest anxiety to
every patriotic Englishman. From the beginning of Eadward’s sickness,
no hope of his recovery seems to have been entertained. The question
in every man’s mind must have been, who should fill his place when he
was taken from them. The choice of the electors would be perfectly
free. Things were not as they had been when Swend and Cnut were in the
land, claiming the votes of the Witan at the point of the sword. But
[Sidenote: State of the royal line.] things were as they had never
been before since the line of Cerdic had ruled over united England.
The King who lay at the point of death was, with the single exception
of the boy Eadgar and his sisters, the last of his race. The names of
Christina and Margaret were most likely never uttered; England had
never yet dreamed of giving herself a female ruler. A sentimental
interest might gather round Eadgar as the last male of the kingly
house, but a sentimental interest was all that he could awaken. His
age and, as events proved, his character rendered him wholly unfit for
rule. And Eadgar, it should be borne in mind, did not possess that
constitutional claim to a preference which was all that, before the
actual election, would have belonged even to a son of the dying King.
At three earlier times had the royal line been reduced so low as to
number none but members of an age too young for personal government.
Eadwig, Eadward the Martyr, Æthelred, had all been chosen in their
non-age. But the princes so chosen were all of them true Æthelings,
Englishmen born, sons of an English King by an English mother. And, in
those days, as there was no better qualified candidate in the royal
house, so there was no man out of it marked out by the hand of nature
as a born King of Men. In those days the greatest of living Englishmen
was no Thegn or Ealdorman, but the renowned Primate Dunstan. England
had therefore, in all those cases, accepted a King in his boyhood
or even in his childhood. There was now no such need. [Sidenote: No
constitutional preference due to Eadgar.] Eadgar, grandson of Ironside
as he was, had no constitutional claim upon the votes of the Witan
beyond any other male person in the realm. He was not born in the land;
he was not the son of a crowned King and his Lady. [Sidenote: Position
of Harold.] And close beside the throne, just beyond the strict limits
of the royal house, stood the foremost man in England, already, it
may be, associated in some sort to the honours of royalty, already an
Under-King who received the oaths and homage of vassal princes, as a
sharer in the rule of the Empire of Britain.[2] Whether he had been
marked out by any formal act or not, we cannot doubt that men had long
learned to look to Harold the son of Godwine as their future King. And
yet, when the day of choice drew near, men might well stop and wonder
at the step which they were about to take. The Law justified the act;
the needs of the time commanded it; but it was a strange and unwonted
[Sidenote: Novelty of an election from beyond the royal house.] act
nevertheless. It was something new, something which might well set the
minds and tongues of men at work, to be called on, freely and under no
fear of the Danish axe, to choose a King who had no royal forefathers,
a King who came not of the stock of Ecgberht, Cerdic, and Woden. Men
whose office or whose sagacity had taught them to scan the chances of
the time might ask how such [Sidenote: Attitude of William and Tostig.]
a choice would be looked on by the exile at the court of Baldwin,
and by the prince who now, in the height of success and glory, had
made the Norman land the wonder of continental Europe. Rumours might
already be afloat that the English Earl, soon about to become the
English King, had, in some strange and unknown way, already [Sidenote:
Possible attitude of Northumberland.] become the man of the Norman
Duke. And without going so far afield, men might ask how the great
land north of the Humber would look on the choice which to Wessex and
East-Anglia seemed the only choice possible. The Thegns and Prelates of
Northumberland might give their votes with the other Witan, but would
the fierce people of that proud and distant province submit, without a
blow or a murmur, to the kingship of a West-Saxon, a son of Godwine, a
brother of Tostig? The days when thoughts like these were working in
men’s minds must have been days of [Sidenote: Importance of Eadward’s
dying recommendation.] care and perplexity. There was one source from
which light and help might be looked for, light and help which might
in some sort seem to come directly from heaven. The words of a dying
man have been in all times looked on as solemn and almost prophetic
utterances. The words of a dying King were, by the traditional feelings
of Englishmen, clothed with an authority second only to that of the
Law itself. Eadward was a dying man and a dying King. And he was
yet more. Strange as it seems to us, he was already beginning to be
looked on with somewhat of the reverence due to a Saint. The will of
Eadward had perhaps never been held to be of such moment, his voice
had perhaps never been so eagerly listened for in the Councils of his
Kingdom, as when he lay, helpless and wellnigh speechless, on his bed
at Westminster. Men waited for the voice of the dying man, the dying
King, the dying Saint, to confirm once more with his last breath the
nomination of the successor on whom, amidst all doubts and dangers,
the heart of England still was fixed. In choosing for the first time
a King not of the blood of Cerdic, it would be no small strength and
comfort if they knew that the step was taken with the full approval and
the full bidding of the last King of Cerdic’s house. The King was sick
unto death; the Witan were gathered round his palace. The moment the
breath was out of his body, it would become their duty to choose his
successor. It was doubtless with no small anxiety, with somewhat even
of religious awe, that they awaited the last expression of the will of
Eadward as to who that successor should be.
[Sidenote: The King’s illness. Wednesday, December 28, 1065.]
The West Minster was consecrated on Wednesday; the news was brought
to the King, who, as his legend says, on hearing it laid his head on
his pillow as if to say, It is finished.[3] For five days his sickness
increased, and the public anxiety heightened at every stage of the
disorder.[4] [Sidenote: He becomes speechless. Tuesday, January 3,
1066.] On the sixth day from the consecration, his speech began to
fail him; his voice was so feeble that his words could no longer
be understood; for two days he lay worn out by the extremity of
his sickness.[5] It was no time to trouble the weary sufferer with
questions even as to the [Sidenote: He recovers his speech. Thursday,
January 5.] welfare of his Kingdom. At last, on the following Thursday,
the eve of the Epiphany, his flagging powers rallied, as the powers of
dying men often do rally at the point of death. He awoke from his sleep
in the full possession of [Sidenote: The group round his bed.] his
senses and of his speech. On either side of his bed stood the two great
chiefs of his realm, Harold the Earl and Stigand the Archbishop.[6]
At the bed’s head, in still more immediate personal attendance on his
master, stood the Staller, Robert the son of Wymarc, a man of Norman
birth, but whom history does not charge with treason towards England.
On the ground, close by the foot of the bed, sat the Lady Eadgyth, the
sister of the great Earl, cherishing the feet of her royal husband in
her bosom. Her thoughts wandered perhaps to the brother beyond the sea,
the brother on whose behalf she had so deeply sinned, the brother who
had so lately held the place nearest to Eadward’s heart, but who was
now for ever cut off from all hopes of crowns or earldoms. The tongue
of Eadward was loosened, but his first words were words of prayer.[7]
In his long slumber he had seen a vision; if that vision were truly
from heaven, he prayed that he might have strength to declare it;
if it were but the phantom of a disordered brain, he would that his
tongue should rather cleave to the roof of his mouth. He sat up in
his bed, supported in the arms of Robert. But the message which he
had to declare from heaven called for a larger audience than the four
favoured ones who were gathered round him. A few more of his chosen
friends—their names are not recorded—were summoned to [Sidenote: He
declares his vision.] the bedside of the dying King.[8] He then,
fluently and with energy,[9] poured forth the awful words of warning.
“Long ago, when I was a youth in Normandy, I knew two monks, most holy
men and most dear to me. Many long years have passed away since they
were taken away from the cares and sorrows of this world. But now, in
my trance, God hath sent them again to me to speak to me in His holy
name. ‘Know,’ said they to me, ‘that they who hold the highest place
in thy realm of England, the Earls, the Bishops, the Abbots, the men
in holy orders of every rank, are not what they seem to be in the
eyes of men. In the eye of God they are but [Sidenote: He foretells
the sorrows of England.] ministers of the fiend. Therefore hath God
put a curse upon thy land; therefore hath He given thy land over into
the hand of the enemy. Within a year and a day from thy death, shall
fiends stalk through thy whole land, and shall harry it from one end to
another with fire and sword and the hand of plunder.’ Then said I to
them, ‘Let me then show these things to my people in the name of God.
Haply they will repent, and His loving-kindness will have mercy upon
them. For He had mercy on the men of Nineveh, when they heard the voice
of His threatening, and repented them of their evil ways.’ But they
answered me, ‘They will not repent, neither shall the mercy of God come
[Sidenote: Allegory of the green tree.] nigh unto them.’ Then said I,
‘What shall be the time or the way in which we may look for these your
threatenings to come to an end?’ ‘In that day,’ they answered, ‘when a
green tree shall be cut away from the midst of its trunk, when it shall
be carried away for the space of three furlongs from its root, when,
without the help of man, it shall join itself again to its trunk, and
shall again put forth leaves and bear fruit in its season. Then first
shall be the time when the woes of England shall come to an end.’”[10]
[Sidenote: Alarm of the other hearers;]
The King ceased his words of prophecy. Harold, Eadgyth, Robert, all
who had been gathered to hear, were struck with awe, and remained
speechless. One heart alone, we are [Sidenote: disbelief of Stigand.]
told, was hardened. Stigand leaned over the King’s bed, and whispered
in the ear of Earl Harold that all this prophetic talk was but
the babbling of an old man worn out by sickness.[11] The Primate,
stout-hearted Englishman as we know him, was, we may well believe, a
hard and worldly man, and his experience of men of his own calling, his
familiarity with what others looked on as miracle and prophecy, may
well have made him less inclined to superstition than to unbelief.
The lay heart was more easily touched; the female heart most easily of
all. Eadgyth, and others who were devoutly given, knew well, we are
told, the sins of England. They shuddered as they thought how often
the warning voice of the Roman Pontiff, how often the voice of Eadward
and of Eadgyth herself, had spoken in vain to the guilty nation.[12]
The pious Lady perhaps deemed that the uncanonical appointment of
Stigand was more likely to bring down the wrath of God than the murder
of Gospatric. At the last Christmas feast, she whose heart was now
so deeply stirred at the thought of ecclesiastical corruptions, had
in that very palace stretched forth her hand to shed blood which no
Law had bidden to be shed, blood which, as far at least as she was
concerned, was innocent.
[Sidenote: The succession.]
But there was other work to be done that day besides hearkening to
foretellings of evil, besides disputing as to the degree of trust to be
placed in the words of him who foretold it. The moment was come when
the all-important question might be pressed on the mind of the dying
King. His friends stood and wept around him; the tears of the Lady
as she sat at his feet fell faster and more thickly still. He gave
orders for his burial. He checked the grief of his friends; he bade
them rejoice at his coming deliverance, and he craved the prayers of
his people for his soul.[13] He spoke of the constant love and devotion
which had been ever shown him by the wife whom he had once driven away
from his hearth and board. She had ever been to him as a loving and
dutiful daughter;[14] God would reward her for her good deeds in this
world and in the next. At last Harold and Stigand—nor have we any right
to exclude Robert from their counsels—found means of calling Eadward’s
mind to the great subject which then filled the whole heart of England.
When all was over, when his body was laid in his new minster, when his
soul had gone to its reward, who should fill the place which he had
so long filled on earth? Who, when he was gone, should wear the royal
crown of England, the Imperial [Sidenote: Eadward names Harold as his
successor.] diadem of Britain? Eadward, at that last moment, was not
wanting to his last duty. He stretched forth his hand towards the Earl
of the West-Saxons, and spake the words, “To thee, Harold my brother, I
commit my Kingdom.”[15] He then went on to declare his last wishes to
his chosen [Sidenote: Eadward’s last wishes.] successor. For Eadward
to give Harold instructions in the art of government was certainly
needless, and the dying man doubtless felt it to be so. But there were
a few personal wishes which were near to his heart; there were a few
personal favourites whom he wished to commend to the [Sidenote: He
commends to Harold’s care the Lady] favourable care of his successor.
First among these was the Lady herself. I need not again enlarge on the
mysterious relations between Eadward and Eadgyth; but, in these his
last days at least, she is described as enjoying his perfect confidence
and affection. But a sister who certainly abetted Tostig, who perhaps
abetted William, against the brother who was now called to reign,[16]
might be thought likely to meet with less consideration at the hands
of Harold than she had, latterly at least, met with at the hands of
Eadward. The King commended her who was so soon to be his widow to the
friendly care of his successor. Let him show to her, as a Lady and a
sister, all faithful worship and service, and never, while she lived,
let her lose [Sidenote: and the Norman favourites.] the honours which
he had bestowed upon her.[17] He commended also to Harold his Norman
favourites, those whom, in his simplicity, he spoke of as men who had
left their native land for love of him.[18] Those who were willing to
abide in the land as English subjects under Harold’s allegiance he
prayed him to keep and to protect. Those who refused to become the men
of the new King he prayed him to dismiss under his safe-conduct to
their own land, taking with them all the goods which they had acquired
by his own favour.[19]
[Sidenote: His directions for his burial.]
The King had now done the last act of his kingly office. With this
last request to Harold all thought of earthly things passed away from
the mind of Eadward. But the man and the saint had still friends to
comfort; he had a soul for which to request their prayers; he had a
body to be committed to the ground with the solemn rites of the Church.
He craved that his body might be buried in the minster which he had
reared, in a special spot within the hallowed walls which their inmates
would point out to [Sidenote: His death not to be concealed, lest he
lose the prayers of his people.] those who stood round him.[20] One
faint thought of earth perhaps came back to his mind, when he bade
them not to hide his death from his people. At such a moment it might
perhaps be convenient to let men believe that Eadward still lived, till
every arrangement could be made for the quiet election and consecration
of his successor. But Eadward’s care for his own soul made him tremble
at such a prospect. “Let my death,” he earnestly prayed, “be at once
announced everywhere, that all the faithful may at once call on the
mercy of Almighty God for me a sinner.”[21] Eadgyth meanwhile wept
without ceasing. Eadward comforted her with the allegorical words;
“Fear not; I shall not die, but by God’s grace, I shall soon arise to
better health.”[22] But the last moment was clearly drawing near; the
last comfort of the Church had to be [Sidenote: He communicates and
dies. Thursday, January 5, 1066.] given. The dying saint received the
Body of his Lord, seemingly at the hands of Stigand; the irregularity
of his position as Primate was perhaps not held to affect acts done
by him as a simple priest.[23] Strengthened by this spiritual food;
Eadward’s soul gently passed away, and the last King of the House of
Cerdic was no more. His body lay as in sleep; his cheeks like the rose,
his beard like the lily, his white hands falling peacefully by his
side; men saw written on the face of the departed saint that he had
gone to his Creator.[24]
[Sidenote: Eadward’s last act; his improvement since his earlier days.]
The King was dead. The last day of his kingship had been the worthiest.
After all the errors and follies of his reign, Eadward died, not only
as a saint, but as an Englishman and a patriot. For the last thirteen
years of his life Harold had been his guide and guardian; for the
last nine years he had been the expectant successor of the Crown. And
now the day had come and the word was spoken. Those years of faithful
guardianship had not been without their fruit; Eadward, with Harold and
Stigand at his side, had become another man from Eadward who had once
listened to every lie which rose to the lips of Robert of Jumièges.[25]
The old wayward spirit had again burst forth when revolt overthrew his
last favourite;[26] but his last favourite was at least an Englishman
and a son of Godwine. [Sidenote: English spirit of Eadward’s last
requests.] And the latest act of all had made up for all that had gone
before. Eadward showed on his death-bed that he had at last learned
that the Norman could never bear sway in England with the good-will of
the English people. The dream of the Norman Duke as the heir of the
English Crown had passed away. The dream of England portioned out among
Norman Earls, Prelates, and Knights had passed away with it. England
was to have an English King, the noblest man of the English people. No
stranger was to be endured in the land, but such as would plight their
homage to the King of England’s choice. For others, however dear to
him, all that Eadward now craved was that they might depart, unhurt and
unplundered, from the land. Visions of danger may have flitted across
his mind, and in the delirium of sickness, in the mere excitement of
pious fear, they may have shaped themselves into vague foreshadowings
of the wrath to come. But what the last dying wishes of Eadward were we
know beyond a doubt. His last wishes, his last hopes, were the same as
the wishes and the hopes of every faithful Englishman. His last earthly
desire was that Harold should wear his Crown, that Harold should reign
over a land freed from the presence of every man whose presence he
might find inconsistent with the welfare of England and her King.
[Sidenote: Eadward’s native panegyric.]
And he has had his reward. Far more precious than the vulgar praises
of Norman legend-makers, far more precious even than the wrought
up panegyric of the courtly chaplain of his widow, is the song in
Eadward’s honour preserved in our national Chronicles from the hands
of a gleeman of his own time and of his own people.[27] The English
poet sang of Eadward’s early troubles, how he had to seek a foreign
land, when Cnut overcame the race of Æthelred, and when Danes wielded
the dear realm of England for eight and twenty winters.[28] He sang of
Eadward’s personal virtues; how he was holy, clean, and mild, how the
baleless King was ever blithe of mood.[29] He sang of the glories of
his reign; how he guarded his land and people; how renowned warriors
stood around his throne; how the son of Æthelred ruled over Angles and
Saxons, how Welsh and Scots and Britons all obeyed the mighty sway of
the noble Eadward.[30] But before his song ceases, the minstrel has
yet to tell of one deed far above all, of one last act which made the
name of Eadward truly glorious. Bitter death snatched the noble King
from earth; angels bore his truthful soul to [Sidenote: The poet dwells
on the nomination of Harold.] heaven. But a truer note of patriotic
feeling rings forth in the words which tell us how the wise King made
fast his realm to Harold the noble Earl, in the words which, bursting
from the poet’s heart, tell us how well the noble Earl deserved the
greatest of earthly gifts. He in all time by words and deeds had truly
obeyed his lord, and had left nought undone which was needful for the
ruler of his people.[31]
§ 2. _The Election and Coronation of Harold. January 5–6, 1066._
[Sidenote: Vacancy of the Throne.]
The throne of England was now vacant, vacant under circumstances such
as England had never seen before. The late King’s dying orders were
obeyed, and, as soon as Eadward’s breath was out of his body, the
Witan of England knew that their King was dead. But by the Law of
England in the eleventh century, the announcement that the King was
dead could not be answered by a cry for the long life of the King who
still was living.[32] The Witan, not yet departed from their Christmas
gathering, heard that the throne was vacant, and they knew that it
was for them alone to fill it. And, with the news that they had no
longer a King, came the news that the last wish of the King who was
gone had pointed out to them whom he wished to fill his kingly seat
after him. All scruple was taken from every mind when men knew that
the son of Æthelred, the heir of Cerdic, had, as his last act, named
as his successor the son of Godwine, the grandson [Sidenote: Meeting
of the Witan. January 5, 1066.] of Wulfnoth. It was no time for delay.
Men came together as speedily upon the death of Eadward as they had
come together to choose Eadward himself upon the death of Harthacnut.
The King lay dead in his palace, while Earls and Prelates, Thegns and
citizens, came together to choose the King who should reign in his
stead. [Sidenote: Doubtful candidature of William and Eadgar.] The
choice was speedy and unanimous. Later writers speak of voices being
raised for Eadgar, even of voices being raised for William.[33] And
so it may have been. Here and there sentimental feelings may have
caused this or that voice to utter the name of the royal boy, even in
preference to the noblest of a merely subject house. And, in our land
of free debate, some daring Norman may even have ventured to breathe
the thought that the King’s kinsman, who had made Normandy so great and
flourishing, might make England no less great and flourishing also.
But words [Sidenote: No sign of local jealousies.] like these told
not on the spirit of the Assembly. Nor do we hear of any expression
of those local jealousies which had divided England on more than one
earlier vacancy. We hear nothing of any rivalry of the House of Leofric
against the House of Godwine; we hear nothing of any murmurs of the
fierce Danes of the North against the inauguration of a new West-Saxon
dynasty. If the sons of Ælfgar dreamed, as they doubtless did, of
a divided Kingdom—of the Imperial Crown for one of themselves they
hardly could have dreamed—their hopes were doomed to disappointment.
Such thoughts, as we shall soon see, still lived in men’s minds, but
in that great Gemót of London[34] they found no open spokesman. It was
not only London, ever foremost in every patriotic cause; it was not
only Wessex, proud of her illustrious son; it was not only East-Anglia,
cherishing the recollections of his earliest rule; it was not only
Hereford, rejoicing in her recovered being, safe alike against British
foes and Norman governors; it was the Witan, not of this or that shire
or ancient [Sidenote: Harold chosen by all England.] Kingdom, but of
the whole realm of England, who chose Harold the son of Godwine to fill
the vacant throne.[35] His reign had long been looked for, and now the
dying voice of Eadward had marked him out as the worthiest object of
their choice. The wise ruler, the unconquered warrior, the bountiful
founder,—the shield of the Kingdom, the shelter of the oppressed, the
judge of the fatherless and the widow[36]—the Earl of the West-Saxons,
the conqueror of Gruffydd, the pacificator of Northumberland, the
founder of Waltham—stood forth before them as the foremost man of
England. He, and he alone, stood forth above other men, sprung from
no line of Kings, but the son of a father greater than Kings, the
man who in long years of rule had shown that there was none like him
worthy to fill the throne of the heroes of old time, worthy, as none of
royal race were worthy, to wield the sword of Æthelstan and sit upon
the judgement-seat of Ælfred. The assembled people of England, in the
exercise of their ancient and undoubted right, chose with one voice
Harold the son of Godwine to be King of the English and Lord of the
Isle of Britain. On no day in their annals did the English people win
for themselves a higher or a purer fame.
[Sidenote: The Crown formally offered to Harold.]
The choice of the Assembly had now to be announced to the King-elect.
We know not whether that choice was made in his presence. Possibly he
may have deemed that his most fitting place was still with his departed
brother-in-law and his widowed sister. But, in any case, two members
of the Assembly were sent, in the name of all, to offer the Crown of
England, as the gift of the people of England, to the man whom they
had chosen as their King. Who discharged that office we know not. None
but men of the highest rank would be sent on such an errand. In the
pictured record of that day’s acts they appear, not as Prelates but
as lay chieftains. One bears the official axe;[37] the other bears
the Crown itself, and points towards the chamber of the dead, whence
the Crown had doubtless been brought for the purpose of this symbolic
offering.[38] Who then were the men whom England thus trusted to speak
such weighty words in her name? Were they the two Northern Earls,
perhaps already the brothers-in-law of the elected King, stifling, as
they best might, their local and family jealousies, their hopes of a
divided kingdom? Or were they rather the two Earls of Eastern England,
sons worthy of Godwine, brothers worthy of Harold, who were sent to
bear the gift of England to the chief of their own house? That day’s
vote had placed that house above the royalties of Gaul and Denmark;
it had placed the line of Godwine on a height lower by one step only
than the line whose youthful chief now sat on the throne of Augustus.
It was for Gyrth and Leofwine, rather than for any other two men in
England, to act on [Sidenote: Position of Harold.] that day as the
spokesmen of their country. Harold stood, axe in hand, to receive them.
The day for which he had looked so long had at last come. The path from
which so many obstacles had been so strangely cleared away had at last
brought him close to the great object of his life. He had now, not
in figure, but in very truth, only to stretch forth his hand, and to
grasp the Crown of England, the free gift of the people of England. No
surprise could have filled his mind; for years he had been marked out,
practically if not by a formal vote, as the man to whom that gorgeous
gift must one day come. And yet that moment of realized dreams must
have been a moment of anxiety, and even of fear. For him, no son of a
kingly father, no scion of legendary heroes and of Gods of the elder
faith, to see with his own eyes the diadem of Ecgberht and Cerdic ready
for his grasp, was of itself a strange and wondrous feeling, such
as few men but him in the world’s history can have felt. He was not
like others before and since, who by fraud or violence have risen to
royalty or more than royalty. Harold was not a Dionysios, a Cæsar, a
Cromwell, or a Buonaparte, whose throne was reared upon the ruins of
the freedom of his country. He was not an Eastern Basileus, climbing
to the seat from which a fortunate battle or a successful conspiracy
had hurled a murdered or blinded predecessor. He was not a Pippin,
whose elevation, however expedient and rightful, could be brought about
only by the displacement of a lawful, though an incompetent, King. He
was not even a Rudolf, whose election, free and honourable as it was,
came when the royal office had long been discredited in men’s eyes,
and when traditional reverence no longer attached to any one ancient
royal house. Harold was freely offered the Crown of England in all
its glory and greatness, a Crown which had never before been offered
to any but men of royal birth,[39] which had never before been freely
offered to any but men of the one Imperial House of Cerdic. [Sidenote:
Difficulties of his situation.] He may well have paused as he looked
at the glittering gift, through the mere greatness and strangeness
of the position in which he stood. And other thoughts may well have
pressed upon his mind, before he spoke the word which should change the
Earl into a King. Harold knew better than any man the dangers which
threatened himself [Sidenote: Double danger from Tostig and William.]
and which threatened England. He knew what she had to fear from the
vengeance of her own banished son, a vengeance which would be kindled
into a sevenfold flame if Harold were King in a land where Tostig
might not hold even an Earldom. He knew also, as no man knew, how much
more she had to fear from the claims of the mighty and [Sidenote:
Effects of the oath to William.] wily Duke beyond the sea. And heavy
on his soul may still have pressed the memory of that fatal day when
he had become the sworn man of that dangerous rival.[40] If he had
promised more than simple homage, casuistry and more than casuistry,
the instinctive feeling of every honest man, would declare that an
extorted promise, unlawful and impossible to fulfil, was perhaps a
crime in him who had plighted it, but could be no crime in him who
should obey a higher law by breaking it. But since that day, the heart
of Harold could never have beaten so high, his step could never have
been so light and joyous, as in the days when his faith was wholly
free, when even his enemies could not impeach his truthfulness. And now
the full weight of that day’s act must have stared him in the face.
Let him accept the Crown now offered him by England, and Normandy
[Sidenote: Harold’s anxiety, as expressed in the Tapestry.] would at
once declare him a perjurer and a traitor. No wonder then if, as the
picture sets him before us, he looked at the Crown at once wistfully
and anxiously, and half drew back the hand which was stretched forth to
grasp the glittering gift. And yet the risk had to be run. A path of
danger opened before him, and yet duty no less than [Sidenote: Greater
danger if he declined the Crown.] ambition bade him to enter upon the
thorny road. If he declined the Crown, to whom should England offer it?
Would the risk be less if the boy Eadgar could win the votes of the
Witan, and if to the other dangers of England were to be added all the
dangers which beset the land whose King is a child?[41] What if the
young Ætheling failed, as he doubtless would fail, to stand his ground
at such a [Sidenote: Danger of a division of the Kingdom.] moment?
Could the land hope to be united in any single choice? Would Mercia
and Northumberland submit to the rule of some West-Saxon boasting
neither the royal blood of Eadgar nor the personal glory of Harold?
Would Wessex and East-Anglia, would mighty and growing London, submit
to Eadwine or Morkere or to the youthful son of Siward? The dangers of
accepting the Crown were great, but the dangers of refusing it were
greater. Whoever reigned, Tostig and William would still try their
chance, and, if it were not Harold who reigned, they would try their
chance with far greater hope of success. The accession of Harold
would indeed put fresh weapons into the hand of William, but it was
not likely that the Duke would wholly cast aside his claims and his
projects, simply because he would have some other King, and not Harold,
to strive against. The fear indeed was that, if Harold shrank from the
burthen, William would find no one single King to resist him. He would
win an easy victory over a divided land, a land split asunder as it had
been in the days of Harthacnut and the earlier Harold, a land, it might
be, already torn in pieces by civil war. Under Harold alone could there
be the faintest hope that England would offer an united front to either
of the invaders who were sure to attack her. The danger then had to be
faced. The call of patriotism distinctly bade Harold not to shrink at
the last moment from the post to which he had so long looked forward,
and which had at last become his own. The first man in England, first
in every gift of war and peace, first in the love of his countrymen,
first in renown in other lands, was bound to be first alike in honour
and in danger. The gift now lay before him. Ambition bade him seize it.
Duty in no way [Sidenote: The Crown accepted by Harold.] held back his
hand. The offered gift was accepted. The eve of that great Epiphany,
the day on which King Eadward was alive and dead,[42] saw the Crown
pass away for ever from the male line of Cerdic, and the next day saw
it solemnly placed upon the brow of Harold. The evening of Eadward’s
death must have been spent in preparation for the two great ceremonies
of the morrow. On the morning of that short winter’s day, the Earl
of the West-Saxons had kept his watch by the dying bed of his King
and brother. Before its last hour had passed, he had become, not yet
indeed a crowned and anointed King, but one called to kingship by the
unanimous voice of his country, a King-elect of the English, who on
the morrow might claim the sceptre and the diadem as his own.
[Sidenote: Double ceremony of Friday January 6, 1066; the burial of
Eadward and the coronation of Harold.]
The morning of the Epiphany dawned. It was the Feast of the Kings, a
fitting day for an august rite within the walls of that minster which
was reared to be specially the home of Kings alike in life and in
death. On that day began that long series of national ceremonies which
has gone on uninterruptedly to our own time, and which has made the
Abbey of Saint Peter the hearth and Prytaneion of the English nation.
The octave of the consecration-day [Sidenote: Necessity for a speedy
coronation,] had barely passed, and there was already a King to be
buried and a King to be crowned. Earl Harold was King-elect by the
choice of the Witan of all England; but he was not “full King” till
he and his people had exchanged their mutual promises, till he had
been arrayed with the outward badges of his kingly office, till the
blessing of the Church and the unction of her highest minister had made
the chosen of the people also the Anointed of the Lord. Those were not
days when that crowning rite could be delayed for one needless moment.
England could not be safely left for a single day without a King. The
twofold right of the new Sovereign, as King alike by the election of
the people and by the consecration of the Church, must be at once
placed beyond all reach of doubt or cavil. The Christmas feast was not
yet over, but it was the last day of the holy season; the Witan were
still assembled; to have waited for another feast of the Church, for
another gathering of the nation, would have been simple madness.[43]
The day of the coronation of Harold must therefore follow at once on
the day [Sidenote: and therefore for a speedy burial.] of his election.
And the coronation of Harold involved the previous burial of Eadward.
England could not see two Kings of the English above ground at the
same moment. Before then the Crown could be set on the brow of the
King-elect, the hallowed soil of Saint Peter’s must close over the King
who was no more. The day of the burial of Eadward must therefore follow
at once on the day of his death. And never, even in the long history of
that venerable Abbey, has there been such another day. Other [Sidenote:
Greatness of the occasion.] Kings have been buried and crowned within
its walls; but there has been no day like that, which beheld the last
of one kingly line borne to his grave in the holy house of his own
building, and which beheld the first—could men deem that he would be
also the last?—of a newly-chosen race raised to the vacant throne alike
by the bequest of his predecessor and by the will of his people. Of
all the gorgeous rites celebrated by Kings and Prelates beneath the
vaults of the West Minster, the twofold rite of that great Epiphany,
which haste and urgency may well have rendered the least gorgeous
of them all, is that around which the national memory of Englishmen
may well centre most fondly. The first royal burial, the first royal
consecration, within the newly-hallowed temple, possess an historic
interest and an historic import beyond all those which have followed
them.
[Sidenote: The Burial of Eadward.]
The body of Eadward had been prepared for burial almost as soon as his
soul had passed away. Decked in royal robes, the crown on his head, the
pilgrim’s ring, so legend said, upon his hand, the saint lay ready for
his last home. Stigand, who had stood by him in his last moments, seems
to have stayed to help in paying this last tribute to his departed
master.[44] But the Primate, patriot in the eyes of Englishmen,
schismatic in the eyes of Rome, was not to [Sidenote: Position of
Stigand.] minister in either of the ceremonies of the morrow. As a
Prelate of doubtful right, he was deemed unfit to hear the chief part
in the consecration of Harold. As a simple priest, he might perhaps
have been allowed to officiate at the funeral rites of Eadward. But it
may well be that the newly-won privileges of the house of Saint Peter
gave to the head of that house the ministration of all rites within its
walls which did not need the special powers of a consecrated Bishop to
give them sacramental efficacy. And Eadward doubtless sought, above
all things, the prayers which the monks of the house which he himself
had reared would [Sidenote: Stigand did not officiate at the funeral.]
put up to Heaven for the soul of their founder. At all events, the
priest who holds the first place in Eadward’s funeral procession is
not set before us in our pictured record as adorned with any badge of
pontifical rank.[45] We may perhaps be allowed to guess that the chief
ministry in the funeral rites of Eadward was assigned to his friend and
bedesman, Abbot Eadwine. Early on the winter’s morning,[46] perhaps
while the minster still needed torchlight within the deep gloom of its
massive walls and narrow windows, [Sidenote: Funeral of Eadward.] the
King was carried to his grave. The body of Eadward, his form shrouded
from sight, was borne on the shoulders of eight of his subjects,
laymen all, and doubtless men of high degree. There was no need, as
in the case of some later Kings, to assure his people, by the sight
of his uncovered body, that he had not come unfairly by his end. Boys
ringing bells walked on either side of the bier; behind them followed
a crowd of clergy, surrounding the two chief ministers of the funeral
ceremony, who walked bearing their office-books in their hands. In
this guise the procession moved from the palace to the western door of
the newly-hallowed minster. They swept along the nave, between the long
rows of tall and massive pillars still fresh from the axe and hammer
of the craftsman. They passed beneath the mighty arches, which, in all
the strength and solidity of those early days of art, bore up the great
central tower like a vast canopy over the choir below. They bore their
burthen to the spot which Eadward had long before chosen as his place
of burial, and there, before the altar of the saint whom he so deeply
reverenced, the patron alike of Westminster and of Rome,[47] the body
of the last King of [Sidenote: General sorrow for Eadward.] the olden
stock received its last kingly honours. We can well believe that, not
only the poor whom he had relieved, the churchmen whom he had enriched,
and the strangers on whom he had lavished the wealth of England, but
that Englishmen of all ranks might well weep in awe and in sorrow
over the grave of the last son of Cerdic and Woden. At such a moment,
reversing the poet’s rule, the good that men have done lives after them
and the evil is interred with their bones. There, by his grave in his
own church, men’s thoughts would dwell on the virtues rather than on
[Sidenote: Causes of sorrow and anxiety.] the weaknesses of the King
who was taken from them. His faults as a King were great; but men would
then think rather of all that was worthy in him as a man, and they
might well deem that his last kingly act had covered a multitude of
errors. In the crowd which filled the church, there could have been few
whom Eadward had personally wronged; there must have been many whom he
had personally benefitted. And, more than this, men must have felt that
the two great rites of that day placed a great gulf between them and a
long and honoured past, while a future rose before them, bright indeed
with glorious hopes, but around which two dark clouds were gathering in
opposite quarters of the heaven. No wonder then that by the grave of
Eadward men wept and trembled.[48] Psalms were sung, masses were said,
alms were scattered abroad with a bounteous hand, needless offerings it
might seem for a soul which men deemed that angels had already borne
to the beatific vision.[49] For three hundred days, days which stretch
beyond the reign of Harold, the masses, the hymns, [Sidenote: Miracles
wrought at the tomb.] the alms, continued to be daily offered.[50]
And wonders soon were wrought at the tomb of the royal saint. The
blind received their sight, the lame walked, the sick were healed, the
sorrowing received comfort.[51] So thought men of his own day, men who
had seen him in the flesh, and who have not shrunk from handing down to
us even the less worthy actions of his life. If we deem such a belief
and such a worship to be, not only superstitious in itself, but to have
been thrown away on an unworthy object, we must remember with how fond
a memory men must, ere a year had passed, have looked back to the happy
days of the baleless King. We must remember how easily men would forget
that the calm of those happy days was due, far less to the crowned monk
upon the throne, than to the man of the stout heart and the strong arm
who stood beside him. And let us remember too that the canonizing voice
of [Sidenote: Other causes of popular canonization.] England was not
always raised only to commemorate mere monastic virtues like those of
Eadward. Foreign Kings and foreign Pontiffs might forbid, but a day
came when England looked with no less devout reverence on the true
heroes and martyrs of our land. If miracles adorned the tomb of Eadward
at Westminster, no less mighty works were soon deemed to be wrought
before Waltheof’s tomb in the chapter-house of Crowland, and two ages
later, the sick were again healed and the blind again saw, before the
tomb where English hearts still revered the relics which were all
that the foeman’s sword had left of the mangled form of the martyr of
Evesham.[52]
[Sidenote: Posthumous history of Eadward.]
The funeral rites were over; but the history of Eadward, as the history
of a saint, is one which reaches beyond the grave. A King at whose
tomb wonders were daily wrought, a King whom two hostile races could
unite to look upon with reverence, gradually filled a larger and a
larger space in men’s minds. Such a King, already canonized by the
popular voice, a King who had done more than any King before him to
bring the English Church into close connexion with the Roman See, could
not fail, ere long, to obtain, by Papal authority, a formal admission
into the register of the saints. But the steps by which he won his
saint’s rank were gradual. Six-and-thirty years after [Sidenote:
Examination of his body by Abbot Gilbert. 1102.] Eadward’s death, a
Bishop and an Abbot of Norman birth, who had most likely never seen
him in the flesh, were the first whom pious curiosity led to disturb
the rest of the departed. It was already whispered that the body of
Eadward, the instrument of so many miracles, was itself the subject
of miracle. The holy King, men said, had never seen corruption. Abbot
Gilbert, one of the great Norman line of Crispin, whom Lanfranc had
put in charge of the house of Westminster,[53] deemed it his duty to
see whether the tale that so often met his ears were true. In company
with Bishop Gundulf of Rochester, the Prelate to whose skill we owe the
White Tower of London and the lowlier keep of Malling, and with other
noble and pious persons, he opened the grave of Eadward. A sweet savour
filled the minster; they unfolded the garments in which Eadward had
been wrapped under the eyes of Stigand; the body lay as in sleep; the
powers of nature had failed to do their work; the skin was still white
and rosy; the limbs were still flexible; they might deem that he might
again arise from his trance and again denounce the sins of England.
The Bishop would fain have carried off one hair of his snowy beard to
keep as a relic more precious than all the treasures of the earth.[54]
But not a hair could be pulled away from the face of the sleeping
saint. The Abbot, with a reverence to which those ages were commonly
strangers, checked the attempt; he restored the vestments and the body
to their place, and bade that the remains of the man of God should rest
in peace.
[Sidenote: Attempt of Osbert to procure]
Thirty-eight years later a vain attempt was made by Osbert, Prior
of Westminster, the special trumpeter of [Sidenote: Eadward’s
canonization. 1140.] Eadward’s renown,[55] to obtain formal
canonization for him from Innocent the Second. But a day came when
the House of William had passed away like the House of Cerdic, a day
when men had taught themselves to hail a stranger from Anjou as the
corner-stone which united Norman [Sidenote: Eadward canonized by
Alexander the Third. 1161.] and English royalty. Then, at last, the
influence of a King who reigned from the Orkneys to the Pyrenees was
able to procure from Rome the decree which placed the predecessor
whom all his subjects agreed to reverence among authorized objects of
religious honour.[56] The green tree had now returned to the trunk; it
had brought forth its queenly leaves and its kingly fruit, and the day
was now come to do special homage to the seer who had foretold that
the good time would at last come back again. As one Pope Alexander had
given the blessing of Rome to the enterprise of the Norman invader,
his next successor of the same name might seem in some sort to undo
the wrong by making the last King of the old royal stock of England
[Sidenote: First Translation of Eadward. October 13, 1163.] an object
of worship to the Church Universal. In the presence of the Angevin
King, in whom men now saw the heir of Eadward, in the presence of the
Norman Primate whom England learned to love as her champion and martyr,
the body of Eadward was translated from his royal tomb to the shrine
which was the fitting resting-place of the relics of a saint in glory.
Things were not now as they were in the days of Abbot Gilbert. Then the
body, entitled only to the reverence due to the remains of a departed
Christian, was allowed to return unhurt and unplundered to the grave.
But now that Eadward claimed the worship due to a canonized saint,
whatever had touched the holy corpse became endowed with sanctity and
miraculous power. The ring, the subject of so many legends, was drawn
from his finger and was preserved as a wonder-working relic. The royal
robes in which the body had been enfolded were borne away from the tomb
and became vestments for the holiest worship of the sanctuary.[57]
And the anniversary of that day still preserves the memory of Eadward
in the Kalendar of the English Church. It was not without a certain
fitness that the Feast of the Translation of Saint Eadward should be
kept, not on the eve of the Epiphany, but on the eve of the day of
Saint Calixtus. It is well that two successive days should remind us of
the memory of Eadward and of the memory of him who fell on the morrow
of his festival.
[Sidenote: Second Translation of Eadward. October 13, 1269.]
Years rolled on, and the spot to which Eadward had been moved on his
first translation was now deemed unworthy of a Saint who was already
looked upon as the patron of England. A King now sat on the throne of
Eadward, who was in many points a reproduction of Eadward himself.
The same fervent zeal for God, the same neglect of duty towards man,
the same vehemence in speech and weakness in action, the same love
for men of foreign lands, the same spiritual bondage to a foreign
yoke, the same deep and lavish devotion to the holy house of Saint
Peter, appeared in Henry the Third which had already appeared in the
predecessor whom he reverenced and resembled. The King who, like
Eadward, aroused the feelings of the nation by his wasteful preference
for strangers of every land, chose as the special objects of his
religious devotion two royal saints of English birth. Before all other
saints, King Henry’s worship was paid to the East-Anglian Eadmund and
the West-Saxon Eadward. By his act those kingly names again found their
way into the royal house, and the name of the saint himself became
the most glorious in the later history of England.[58] In honour of
[Sidenote: Rebuilding of the West Minster. 1245.] Eadward the work of
Eadward was destroyed.[59] The church which he himself had reared was
now deemed unworthy to be the dwelling-place of so great a saint.[60]
The “massive arches, broad and round,”[61] of the church which so long
was the model for all England,[62] now gave way to those slender
pillars and soaring arches which, alone among English minsters, go some
way to reproduce the boundless height of Amiens and of Beauvais. There,
alone among English minsters of its own date,[63] did the tall apse
and its surrounding chapels crown the eastern end of what was now the
church of Saint Eadward. But that apse was not reared, as at Amiens and
at Le Mans, at Pershore and at Tewkesbury, to form the most glorious of
canopies for the [Sidenote: The shrine of Eadward.] altar of the Most
High. Not in any subordinate chapel, but in the noblest spot of all, in
the spot which elsewhere was reserved for the highest acts of Christian
worship, was the new shrine of Eadward reared. And the workmanship of
that gorgeous shrine was of a type fit for him who reared it, and for
him in whose honour it was reared. Among all the Kings whose tombs are
gathered together in that solemn spot, two alone reveal in their style
of art the work of craftsmen from beyond the sea and even from beyond
the [Sidenote: Comparison of Eadward and Henry the Third.] mountains.
The resting-places of the two Kings in whose heart beat no English
feeling, the two Kings who loved to be surrounded by men of any nation
rather than their own, the two Kings who, more than any other Kings in
English history, laid England, of their own act, prostrate at the feet
of Rome,[64] the shrine of Eadward, the tomb of Henry, are fittingly
adorned with forms which awake no English associations, the work not of
English but of [Sidenote: The Translation. October 13, 1269.] Italian
hands. To that shrine, a hundred and three years after its first
translation, the body of the saint was borne by a crowd of the noblest
of the land.[65] Among them two Kings and two Kings’ sons bowed their
shoulders beneath the hallowed weight. The two highest of earthly
rulers, the continental and the insular Basileus, Richard of Germany
and Henry of England, were foremost to bear the burthen to which it
was deemed a holy work to stretch forth a single finger.[66] With the
one English Augustus there joined in the task his nephew, the one
Englishman besides himself who ever bore the titles of foreign royalty,
Edmund of Lancaster, whose vain pretensions to the Sicilian crown had
been already transferred to the stronger hand of the conqueror from
Anjou. Fit bearers for the foreign-hearted saint were an English King
who hated Englishmen, and English princes who wasted English [Sidenote:
Presence of Edward the First.] treasure in seeking after the kingship
of other lands. But there was one who shared in their work who might
seem sent there expressly to remind us that the object of their worship
was, after all, an Englishman. Among those who bent to bear Eadward’s
body was the prince who was named after his name, but whose life
reproduced, not the life of Eadward the Confessor, but the life of
Eadward the Unconquered.[67] Those who then pressed to win spiritual
blessings by touching the corpse of Eadward hardly deemed that among
themselves was one who was to make his name more worthy of honour among
Englishmen than the royal saint could ever make it. It was then deemed
an honour and a privilege to draw near to the body of Eadward. Was it
not rather the highest of honours paid to Eadward himself, that Harold
stood by his side at his first burial, and that in the great rite of
his translation a share was borne by him who did in truth live to wield
the sceptre of the Isle of Albion, and in whom the Scot and the Briton
once more bowed to an Eadward of England as their father and their
lord?[68]
[Sidenote: Eadward’s shrine becomes the centre of the royal tombs.]