possibly that in which the expedition [Sidenote: State of the
succession. 1054.] against Macbeth was decreed,[1090] a most important
step was taken with regard to the succession to the Crown. It was a step
which proved altogether fruitless, but it is most important as showing
what men’s feelings and wishes were at the time. It proves incontestably
that now, two years after the return of Godwine, the idea of the
succession of William had quite passed away, and that the idea of the
succession of Harold had not yet occurred to men’s minds. The state of
the royal house was such as to cause the deepest anxiety. The English
people, though they cared little for any strict law of succession, still
reverenced the blood of their ancient princes, and had ever been wont,
save under the irresistible pressure of foreign conquest, to choose
their Kings only from among the descendants of former Kings. But now the
line of their former Kings seemed to be altogether dying out. Eadward
was without children or hopes of children. There was no man in the land
sprung from the male line of Æthelred and Eadgar. It is quite possible
that there may have been men descended from earlier Kings; but, if so,
they could only have been distant kinsmen, whose royal descent was well
nigh forgotten, and who were no longer allowed to count as Æthelings.
There was indeed a grandson of Æthelred dwelling in the Kingdom in the
person of Ralph of Hereford. [Sidenote: Position of Ralph.] Ralph would
very likely have been the successor to whom Eadward’s personal
inclinations would have led him. He shared with William of Normandy the
merit of being a stranger speaking the French tongue, and he had the
advantage over William of being really a descendant of English royalty.
And the tie which bound Ralph to Eadward was a very close one. Old
Teutonic feelings held the son of a sister to be hardly less near and
dear than a son of one’s own loins,[1091] and we have seen some
indications that this feeling was not wholly forgotten in England in the
eleventh century. The sister’s son of Brihtnoth and the sister’s son of
Siward[1092] are mentioned in a special way among the chosen companions
of their uncles, around whose banners they fought and died. Eadward, in
his heart of hearts, would naturally fall back upon Ralph, his own
nephew, the son of the daughter of Æthelred and Emma, as a candidate
whom the English people might perhaps be persuaded to accept, when the
cause of the Norman became hopeless after Godwine’s revolution.
[Sidenote: No preference given by female descent.] But however sacred
was the relation between a man and his sister’s son, it was not one
which by the Law of England conferred any right to the royal succession.
The preference attaching to kingly blood was confined to those who were
of kingly blood by direct male descent; it does not appear that the son
of a King’s daughter had any sort of claim in a royal election beyond
any other man in the realm. And, as for Ralph himself, his foreign
origin and his personal conduct were, either of them, quite enough to
make him thoroughly distasteful to the English people. Men had had quite
enough of him as Earl, and they certainly had no wish to have any
further experience of him as King. In the present lack of heirs, men’s
thoughts turned to a branch of the royal family whose very existence
[Sidenote: The sons of Eadmund Ironside.] was perhaps well nigh
forgotten. Seven and thirty years before, the infant sons of Eadmund
Ironside, Eadmund and [Sidenote: 1017.] Eadward, had found a shelter
from the fears of Cnut under the protection of the sainted Hungarian
King Stephen.[1093] [Sidenote: Eadward the Ætheling; his marriage and
children.] Eadmund died, seemingly while still young. Eadward was still
living. He had, seemingly through the influence of Stephen’s Queen
Gisela, sister of the Emperor Henry the Second, obtained in marriage a
lady of royal descent named Agatha, who seems most probably to have been
a niece of the Hungarian Queen and of the sainted Emperor.[1094] This
marriage would seem to show that, in those distant lands, Eadward was
acknowledged as a prince, perhaps looked to as one who might some day
reign in his native island. And the fact that the son of Eadward and
Agatha bore the renowned English name of Eadgar, shows that the Ætheling
himself cannot have wholly forgotten his native land. Yet, banished, as
he was, in his cradle, he could have retained hardly anything of the
feelings of an Englishman, and it is hardly possible that he could have
spoken the English tongue. Eadward must have been even less of an
Englishman than his royal namesake and uncle. Eadward the King had left
England when he was many years older than Eadward the Ætheling, and he
had lived in a land which had a much closer connexion with England.
Still Normandy was dangerous, and Hungary was not. Whatever the Ætheling
was, at least he was not a Frenchman; his connexions, though foreign,
were in every way honourable and in no way formidable. Hungary was too
distant a land to do England either good or harm, but the fame of the
youngest Christian Kingdom, and of its renowned and sainted King, was
doubtless great throughout Europe. And the connexion with the Imperial
House, the distant kindred of the Ætheling’s children with the
illustrious Cæsar, the friend and brother-in-law of King Eadward, was,
of all foreign ties, that which it most became Englishmen to strengthen.
In default therefore of any member of the royal house brought up and
dwelling in the land, it was determined to recall the banished Ætheling
with his wife and family.[1095] Besides his son Eadgar, he had two
daughters, who bore the foreign names of Margaret and Christina. We
shall hear of all [Sidenote: Eadgar.] three again. Eadgar lived to be in
an especial manner the sport of fortune; a King twice chosen, but never
crowned, the last male descendant of Cerdic dragged on a sluggish and
contented life as the friend and pensioner [Sidenote: Margaret.] of
Norman patrons. One of his sisters won a worthier fame. Margaret
obtained the honours alike of royalty and of saintship; she became one
of the brightest patterns of every virtue in her own time, and she
became the source through which the blood and the rights of the Imperial
House of Wessex have passed to the Angevin, the Scottish, and the German
sovereigns of England.[1096]
It is impossible to doubt that the resolution to invite the Ætheling was
regularly passed by the authority of the King and his Witan. No lighter
authority could have justified such a step, or could have carried any
weight with [Sidenote: The Ætheling invited to England: the invitation
equivalent to succession to the Crown.] foreign courts. Such an
invitation was equivalent to declaring the Ætheling to be successor to
the Crown, so far as English Law allowed any man to be successor before
the Crown was actually vacant. It is possible that, as in some other
cases, an election before the vacancy may have been attempted;[1097] but
it is perhaps more likely that all that was done was to guarantee to
Eadward that same strong preference which naturally belonged only to a
son of a reigning King. Such a preference, in favour of one who was the
last remaining member of the royal family, would in practice hardly
differ from an exclusive right. The resolution in short placed the
Ætheling in the same position as if his father and not his uncle had
been on the throne. His position would thus be the same as that of
Eadwig and Eadgar during the reign of Eadred.[1098] But, when we
consider what followed, it is important to remember that the preference
which undoubtedly belonged to Eadward would not belong to his son.
Eadward, though so long an exile, was an Englishman born, the son of a
crowned King and his Lady.[1099] The young Eadgar was a native of a
foreign land, and was not the son of [Sidenote: Import of the selection
of Eadward.] royal parents. This _quasi_ designation of Eadward to the
Crown involves, as I before said, two things. It implies that the King
had learned that the succession of William was a thing which he never
could bring about.[1100] It implies also that neither Harold himself nor
the English people had as yet formed any serious idea of the possible
succession of one not of royal descent. Indeed one can hardly doubt that
the resolution to send for the Ætheling, if it was not made at Harold’s
own motion, must at any rate have had his full approval. No proposal
could be more contrary to the wishes and interests of the Norman
courtiers, who must either have unsuccessfully opposed it or else have
found it their best wisdom to hold their peace. It was therefore,
seemingly at the Whitsun Gemót, resolved to send an embassy to obtain
the return of the Ætheling. And about the time that Earl Siward was
warring in Scotland, the English ambassadors set forth on their errand.
[Sidenote: Embassy to the Emperor Henry. July, 1054.]
A direct communication with the court of Hungary seems to have been an
achievement beyond the diplomatic powers of Englishmen in that age. The
immediate commission of the embassy was addressed to the Emperor Henry,
with a request that he would himself send a further [Sidenote: Ealdred
and Ælfwine ambassadors.] embassy into Hungary. At the head of the
English legation was the indefatigable Bishop Ealdred, and with him
seems to have been coupled Abbot Ælfwine of Ramsey.[1101] Both these
Prelates had already had some experience of foreign courts. Ealdred had
gone on the King’s errand to the Apostolic throne,[1102] and Ælfwine had
been one of the representatives of the English Church at the famous
Council of Rheims.[1103] The Bishop of Worcester clearly reckoned on a
long absence, and we get some details of the arrangements which he made
for the discharge of his ecclesiastical duties during his absence. The
Abbey of Winchcombe, which he had annexed to his Bishoprick the year
before, he now resigned,[1104] and the general government of the see of
Worcester he entrusted to a monk of Evesham named Æthelwig.[1105] The
church of that famous monastery, raised by the skill of its Abbot
Mannig,[1106] was now awaiting consecration. For that ceremony he
deputed his neighbour Bishop Leofwine of Lichfield.[1107] He then set
forth for the court of Augustus. The Emperor was then at Köln, on his
return from the consecration of his young son Henry as West-Frankish or
Roman King in the Great Charles’s minster at Aachen.[1108] The immediate
tie between Eadward and Henry had been broken by the death of Queen
Gunhild; the King who was now to be crowned was the child of Henry’s
second wife, the Empress Agnes of Poitiers.[1109] But the interchange of
gifts and honours between the Roman and the insular [Sidenote: Splendid
reception given to Ealdred.] Basileus was none the less cordial and
magnificent. English writers dwell with evident pleasure on the splendid
reception which the English Bishop met with both from the Emperor and
from Hermann, the Archbishop of the [Sidenote: His long stay at Köln.
1054–1055.] city where Ealdred had been presented to Henry.[1110] But
the immediate business of his embassy advanced but slowly. The time was
ill chosen for an Imperial intervention with the Hungarian court.
Andrew, the reigning King of Hungary, was about this time abetting the
rebellious Duke Conrad of Bavaria against the Emperor.[1111] We have no
details of the further course of the negotiation. Ealdred abode a whole
year at Köln, probably waiting for a favourable opportunity. His embassy
was in the end successful; for the Ætheling did in the end return to
England. But we have no further details, and Eadward did not return to
England till long after Ealdred had gone back, and till at least a year
after the death of the Emperor.
[Sidenote: Death of Osgod Clapa. 1054.]
The year of Ealdred’s mission was marked also by the sudden death of a
somewhat remarkable person, namely Osgod Clapa, whose movements by sea
had been watched with such care five years before.[1112] The Chronicler
remarks, seemingly with some little astonishment, that he died in
[Sidenote: Death of Earl Siward. 1055.] his bed.[1113] Early in the next
year death carried off a far more famous man, no other than the great
Earl of the Northumbrians.[1114] The victory of the last year, glorious
as it was, had been bought by the bitterest domestic losses, which may
not have been without their effect even on the iron spirit and frame of
the old Earl. His nephew and his elder son had fallen in the war with
Macbeth, and [Sidenote: His son WALTHEOF.] his only surviving son,
afterwards the famous Waltheof, was still a child.[1115] Siward’s first
wife Æthelflæd was dead, and he had in his old age married, and
survived, a widow named Godgifu.[1116] We might have fancied that
Waltheof was her son, but we know for certain that he was the son of the
daughter of the old Northumbrian Earls, and that he unhappily inherited
all the deadly feuds of his mother’s house.[1117] Siward died at York,
the capital of his Earldom. [Sidenote: Story of Siward’s death.] A tale,
characteristic at least, whether historically true or not, told how the
stern Danish warrior, when he felt death approaching, deemed it a
disgrace that he should die, not on the field of battle, but of disease,
“like a cow.” If he could not actually die amid the clash of arms, he
would at least die in warrior’s garb. He called for his armour, and,
harnessed as if again to march against Macbeth, the stout [Sidenote: His
foundation and burial at Galmanho.] Earl Siward breathed his last.[1118]
But this fierce spirit was not inconsistent with the piety of the time.
Saint Olaf, the martyred King of the Northmen, had by this time become a
favourite object of reverence, especially among men of Scandinavian
descent. In his honour Earl Siward had reared a church in a suburb of
his capital called Galmanho,[1119] a church which, after the Norman
Conquest, developed into that great Abbey of Saint Mary, whose ruins
form the most truly beautiful ornament of the Northern metropolis. In
his own church of Galmanho Siward the Strong, the true relic of old
Scandinavian times, was buried with all honour.
The death of Siward led to most important political consequences. The
direct authority of the House of Godwine was now, for the first time,
extended to the land beyond the Humber. This fact marks very forcibly
how fully the royal authority was now acknowledged throughout the whole
realm. The King and his Witan could now venture to appoint as the
successor of Siward an Earl who had absolutely no connexion with any of
the great families of Northumberland. Cnut, in the moment of victory,
had given the Northumbrians the Dane Eric as their Earl.[1120] But this
was the act of a conqueror, and such was the strength of the Danish
element in Northumberland that the appointment of a Dane from Denmark
probably seemed less irksome than the appointment of an Englishman from
any [Sidenote: TOSTIG appointed Earl of the Northumbrians. 1055.] other
part of the Kingdom. This last was the act, one wholly without a
parallel, on which Eadward now ventured. The vacant Earldom of
Northumberland, including also the detached shires of Northampton and
Huntingdon,[1121] was [Sidenote: Influences on behalf of Tostig.]
conferred on Tostig the son of Godwine. The novelty of the step is
perhaps marked by the elaborate description of the influences which were
brought to bear on the mind of Eadward to induce him to make the
appointment. We hear, not only of Tostig’s own merits, but of the
influence employed by his many friends, especially by his sister the
Lady Eadgyth and by his brother Earl Harold, whom Norman calumny has
represented as depriving Tostig of his hereditary rights.[1122] We may
suspect that we have here an account of influences which it was more
necessary to bring to bear on the minds of the Witan than on that of the
King.[1123] For there is no appointment of Eadward’s reign which is more
likely to have been the King’s personal act. Tostig, rather than Harold,
was Eadward’s personal [Sidenote: Eadward’s personal affection for
Tostig.] favourite. He was the Hêphaistiôn, the friend of Eadward, while
Harold was rather the Krateros, the friend of the King.[1124] He also
stood higher in the good will of their common sister the Lady Eadgyth.
Cut off in a great measure from his Norman favourites, the affections of
Eadward had settled themselves on the third son of Godwine. He would
therefore naturally desire to raise Tostig to the highest dignities in
his gift, or, if he felt hesitation in doing so, it could only be from
the wish to keep his favourite always about his own person. In fact we
shall find that Eadward could not bring himself to give up the society
of Tostig to the degree which the interests of his distant Earldom
called for. And this frequent absence of the Earl from his government
seems to have been among the causes of the misfortunes which afterwards
followed.[1125]
[Sidenote: Novelty of a West-Saxon Earl in Northumberland.]
This appointment of a West-Saxon to the great Northern Earldom was, as I
have already implied, a distinct novelty. Ever since Northumberland had
ceased to be ruled by Kings of her own, she had been ruled by Earls
chosen from among her own people. The ancient Kingdom had sometimes been
placed under one, sometimes under two, chiefs; but they had always been
native chiefs. The rule of the stranger Eric had been short, and he
seems to have allowed the line of the ancient princes to retain at least
a subordinate authority.[1126] Siward, a stranger by birth, was
connected with the ancient family by marriage.[1127] And both Eric and
Siward were Danes; Tostig came of a line which most probably sprang from
the most purely Saxon part of England. The experiment was a hazardous
one, yet it was one which was not only dictated by sound policy, but
which circumstances made almost unavoidable. The [Sidenote: Mode of
appointment to the great Earldoms.] great Earldoms, I may again repeat,
were neither strictly hereditary nor strictly elective. They were in the
gift of the King and his Witan, but there was always a strong tendency,
just as in the case of the Kingdom itself, to choose out of the family
of the deceased Earl, whenever [Sidenote: Impossibility of appointing a
native Earl on the death of Siward.] there was no obvious reason to do
otherwise. But on the death of Siward there was such an obvious reason
to do otherwise, just as there was in the case of the Kingdom when it
became vacant by the death of Eadward. The eldest son of Siward had
fallen in the Scottish war, and the one survivor of his house was still
a child.[1128] Oswulf, seemingly the only male representative of the
ancient Earls,[1129] was probably still a mere boy.[1130] There was
therefore no available candidate of the old princely line. And, when we
think of the state of the country, of the deadly feuds and jealousies
which prevailed even between the reigning Earls and other powerful
men,[1131] we shall see that the nomination of any private Northumbrian
would have been a still more hazardous experiment than the nomination of
a stranger. The Northumbrians themselves seem to have felt this, when,
ten years later, the choice of their Earl was thrown into their own
hands. They then chose, [Sidenote: Doubtful policy of the appointment of
Tostig.] not a Northumbrian, but a Mercian. But it may well be doubted
whether it was good policy to appoint a West-Saxon, and especially a
member of the House of Godwine. This was perhaps going too far in the
way of reminding the proud Danes of the North of their subjection to the
Southern King. It could not fail to suggest the idea of an intention to
monopolize all honours and all authority in a single family. And, as
events showed, the personal character of Tostig proved unfitted
successfully to grapple with the difficult task which was now thrown
upon him.
[Sidenote: Character of Tostig.]
In weighing the character of the third son of Godwine, we must be on our
guard against several distinct sources of error. We are at first tempted
to condemn without mercy one who became the antagonist of his nobler
brother, who waged open war with his country, and whose invasion of
England, by acting as a diversion in William’s favour, was one main
cause of the success of William’s expedition. We read the account of his
crimes as set forth by his Northumbrian enemies, and we think that no
punishment could be too heavy for the man who wrought them. On the other
hand, though Tostig, as an adversary of Harold, comes in for a certain
slight amount of Norman favour, there was also a temptation, which for
the most part was found irresistibly strong, to blacken both sons of the
[Sidenote: Legends of Harold and Tostig.] Traitor equally. The
opposition between Harold and Tostig during the last two years of their
joint lives has thus supplied the materials for a heap of legends of
revolting absurdity. The two brothers, who clearly acted together up to
those two last years, are described as being full of the most bitter
mutual rivalry and hatred, even from their childhood.[1132] The effect
of these two different pictures is that both admirers and depreciators
of Harold are alike led to look on the acts of Tostig in the most
unfavourable light. The crimes of his later years cannot be denied. He
died a traitor, in arms against his country, engaged in an act of
treason compared to which Harold’s ravages at Porlock, and even Ælfgar’s
alliance with Gruffydd, sink into insignificance. His Northumbrian
government too was evidently stained with great errors, seemingly with
great crimes. But it is remarkable that it is not till the last two
years of his life that we hear of anything which puts him in an
unfavourable light. And there is nothing in his few recorded earlier
actions which is at all inconsistent with the generally high character
[Sidenote: Witness of the Biographer of Eadward.] given of him by the
biographer of Eadward. That writer compares him with Harold in an
elaborate picture of the two which I have already made large use of in
describing Harold. And it is clear that, whether from his own actual
convictions or from a wish to please his patroness the Lady Eadgyth, it
is Tostig rather than Harold whose partizan he is to be reckoned, and it
is Tostig whose actions he is most anxious to put in a favourable light.
But the two are the two noblest of mortals; no land, no age, ever
brought forth two such men at the same time. He makes a comparison of
virtues between the two, but he hardly ventures to make the balance
decidedly weigh in [Sidenote: His description of Tostig.] favour of
either. In person Tostig was of smaller stature than his elder brother,
but in strength and daring he was his equal.[1133] But he seems to have
lacked all Harold’s winning and popular qualities. He is set before us
as a man of strong will, of stern and inflexible purpose, faithful to
his promise, grave, reserved, admitting few or none to share his
counsels, so that he often surprised men by the suddenness [Sidenote:
His stern and unyielding character.] of his actions.[1134] His zeal
against wrong-doers, the virtue of the ruler for which his father and
brother are so loudly extolled, amounted in him to a passion which
carried him beyond the bounds of justice and honour.[1135] The whole
picture describes him as a man of honest and upright intentions, but of
an unbending sternness which must have formed a marked contrast to the
frank and conciliatory disposition of his brother. Such a man, placed as
a ruler over a turbulent and refractory people, might, almost
unconsciously, degenerate into a cruel tyrant. [Sidenote: Disturbed
state of Northumberland.] Northumberland, we are told, was, at the time
when he undertook its government, in a state to which it is impossible
to believe that either Normandy or southern England afforded any
likeness. Siward’s strong arm had done something to bring its turbulent
inhabitants into order; yet thieves and murderers still had so
completely the upper hand that travellers had to go in parties of
[Sidenote: Tostig’s effort to restore order.] twenty and thirty, and
even then were hardly safe.[1136] Tostig set himself vigorously,
evidently too vigorously, to work to put an end to this state of things.
His severity was merciless and impartial; death and mutilation were
freely dispensed among all disturbers of public order. His efforts, we
are told, were effectual; it is said, in a proverbial form of speech,
that under his administration, any man could safely travel through the
whole land with all his goods.[1137] Even powerful Thegns were not
spared, and here comes the point in which Tostig most deeply erred.
Putting our various accounts together, we shall find that, when
offenders were too powerful to be reached by the arm of the law, Tostig
did not scruple to rid the land of them [Sidenote: Explanation of his
later crimes.] by treacherous assassination. We can well understand that
a man of Tostig’s disposition, bent on bringing his province into order
at any price, may have persuaded himself that the public good was
superior to all other considerations, and may have blinded himself to
the infamy of the means by which the public good was to be compassed.
Very similar conduct in public men of our own day has been condoned by
large bodies of men, and by some has even been warmly applauded. The
unswerving dictate of justice is that he who, in any age, sheds blood
without sentence of law, deserves the heaviest condemnation and the
heaviest punishment. Still such conduct does not necessarily imply any
original corruption of heart in the offender. Tostig richly deserved all
that afterwards fell upon him. Like most sinners, he went on from bad to
worse; but there is no reason to believe that he undertook the
government of Northumberland with any less sincere intention of doing
his duty there than Harold had when he undertook the government of
Wessex. Tostig in the end became a great criminal; but he clearly was
not a monster or a villain from the beginning of his career.
[Sidenote: His personal favour with Eadward.]
The strange thing is that a man of this disposition, whose virtues were
all of the sterner sort, should have become a personal favourite with a
feeble King like Eadward. One may perhaps explain it by the principle
which often makes men, both in love and in friendship, prefer those who
are most unlike themselves. A man like Eadward would cling to a man like
Tostig as his natural protector, and, after all, weak as Eadward was,
there were elements in his character to which the extreme severity of
Tostig would not be unacceptable or even unlike. The King who had
commanded Godwine to march against the untried citizens of Dover would
not be likely to condemn the harshness of Tostig’s rule in [Sidenote:
Tostig’s personal virtues.] Northumberland. And there were other points
in Tostig’s character which would naturally and rightly commend him to
the favour of the saintly King. Tostig, like William, practised some
virtues which Harold neglected. While Harold’s affections seem to have
dwelt wholly on an English mistress, Tostig set an example of strict
fidelity to his foreign wife.[1138] The husband of Judith would thus on
every ground be more acceptable to Eadward than the lover of Eadgyth.
Tostig too was of a bountiful disposition, and Judith, who was a devout
woman, directed a large share of his bounty to pious objects.[1139]
Through all these causes Tostig easily won the highest place in the
affection of his royal brother-in-law. With his sister the Lady he stood
only too well. There is too much reason to fear that Eadgyth did not
scruple to become something more than the accomplice of one of his worst
deeds.[1140]
Such was the man to whom, probably at about the age of thirty-two,[1141]
was entrusted the rule of the ancient realm beyond the Humber. The
general picture of his government I have already given; but for nine
years no domestic details are supplied. We shall find him, like his
brother, making the fashionable pilgrimage to Rome, and aiding his
brother in his wars with the Welsh. Notwithstanding Norman legends,
there is, at this stage of their history, not the slightest sign of any
dissension between them.
[Sidenote: Tostig becomes the sworn brother of Malcolm. 1055–1061.]
One fact however we learn quite incidentally which touches, not indeed
the internal administration of his Earldom, but the measures taken at
once for its external defence, and for the maintenance of the supremacy
of the Imperial Crown over the great Northern dependency of England. At
some time during the first six years of his government, Earl Tostig
became the sworn brother of Malcolm, the restored King of Scots.[1142]
This was a tie by which reconciled enemies often sought to bind one
another to special friendship. It was the tie by which Cnut had been
bound to Eadmund,[1143] and by which Tostig’s predecessor Ealdred had
been bound to the faithless Carl.[1144] But there is nothing to show
that the establishment of this tie between Tostig and Malcolm [Sidenote:
Probable reference of the engagement to the war with Macbeth.] had been
preceded by any hostilities between them. It is far more probable,
considering the date of Tostig’s appointment to his Earldom, that the
engagement took place early in Tostig’s government, and that it was made
with a view to the joint prosecution of hostilities against a common
enemy. When Tostig succeeded Siward, Malcolm was still struggling for
his crown against Macbeth, and we cannot doubt that Tostig continued to
support the man of King Eadward against the usurper.[1145] Then
doubtless it was that the King of Scots and the Earl of the
Northumbrians entered into this close mutual relation. But the tie of
sworn brotherhood was one which was seldom found strong enough to bind
the turbulent spirits of those times. It sat almost as lightly on the
conscience of Malcolm as it had sat on the conscience of Carl. The
engagement was observed as long as it happened to be convenient, and no
longer. While Tostig was the guardian of the English border, Malcolm’s
brotherhood with Tostig did not hinder him from violating the frontiers
of Tostig’s Earldom. When Tostig was an exile in arms against his
country, the tie was remembered, and it procured him a warm welcome at
the Scottish Court.
[Sidenote: Ælfgar banished. March 20, 1055.]
The appointment of Tostig to the Earldom must have been made in the
Gemót which was held in London in the Lent of this year.[1146] In the
same Assembly, Ælfgar, Earl of the East-Angles, was banished. The
accounts which we have of this transaction are not very intelligible.
The fullest narrative that we have, that of the Chronicler who is most
distinctly a partizan of Harold’s, tells us that he was charged with
treason towards the King and all his people, and that he publicly
confessed his guilt, though the confession escaped him unawares.[1147]
The other accounts are satisfied with saying that he was guiltless or
nearly guiltless.[1148] With such evidence as this, we are not in a
position to determine on the guilt or innocence of Ælfgar. We do not
even know what the treason was with which he was charged. But a charge
to which the accused party, even in a moment of confusion, pleaded
guilty, could hardly have been wholly frivolous on the part of the
accuser. This point is important; for, though we have no direct
statement who the accuser was, the probability is that a charge against
one who stood so high in the rival family could have been brought only
by Harold or by some one acting in his interest. At any rate, if Ælfgar
was not a traitor before his condemnation, he became one speedily after
it. In seeking a forcible restoration, he did but follow the least
justifiable act in the career of his rival. But, if Harold had set a bad
example, Ælfgar improved upon it. Harold had endeavoured to force his
way into the country at the head of mercenaries hired in a foreign land.
But he had not allied himself with the enemies of his country; he had
not carried on a war against England in the interest of an ever restless
foe of England. To this depth of infamy [Sidenote: Ælfgar hires ships in
Ireland,] Ælfgar did not scruple to sink. He went over, as Harold had
done, to Ireland, and gathered a force of eighteen ships, besides the
one in which he had made his own voyage. These ships were doubtless
manned by the Scandinavian settlers in that country.[1149] With this
fleet he sailed to some haven in Wales, probably of North Wales,
[Sidenote: and makes an alliance with Gruffydd.] where he met Gruffydd
and made an alliance with him.[1150] The Welsh Prince was now at the
height of his power. He had this very year overthrown and slain his
South-Welsh rival, Gruffydd the son of Rhydderch.[1151] He seems now to
have been master of the whole Cymrian territory, and, at the head of
such a power, he was more dangerous, and probably more hostile, to
England than ever. Nothing then could be more opportune for his purposes
than the appearance of a banished English Earl at the head of a powerful
force of Irish Danes. Ælfgar at once asked for Gruffydd’s help in a war
to be waged against King Eadward.[1152] The plan of a campaign was
speedily settled. Gruffydd summoned the whole force of the Cymry[1153]
for a great expedition against the Saxons. Ælfgar, with his Irish or
Danish following, was to meet the Welsh King at some point which is not
mentioned, and the combined host was to march on a devastating inroad
into Herefordshire. The plan was successfully carried out, and the
forces of Gruffydd and Ælfgar entered the southern part of the shire,
the district known as Archenfeld, and [Sidenote: Gruffydd and Ælfgar
ravage Herefordshire,] there harried the country. The border land which
they entered was one bound to special service against British enemies.
The Priests of the district had the duty of carrying the King’s messages
into Wales; its militia claimed the right, in any expedition against the
same enemy, to form the van in the march and the rear in the
retreat.[1154] To ravage this warlike district was no doubt a special
object with the Welsh King, one which would be carried out with special
delight. He did his work effectually. The effects of the harrying under
Gruffydd were still to be seen at the time of the Norman survey.[1155]
The work of destruction thus begun seems to have been carried on by
Gruffydd and his allies without opposition, till they came within two
miles of the city of Hereford.[1156] [Sidenote: and meet Earl Ralph near
Hereford. October 24, 1055.] There they were at last met by a large
force under Ralph, the Earl of the country, consisting partly of the
levies of the district, and partly of his own French and Norman
following. Richard the son of Scrob, it will be remembered, was among
the Normans who had been allowed to remain in England,[1157] and no
doubt the forces of Richard’s Castle swelled the army of Ralph. The
timid Earl[1158] thought himself called upon to be a military reformer.
The English, light-armed and heavy-armed alike, were [Sidenote: Ralph
requires the English to fight on horseback.] always accustomed to fight
on foot. The Housecarl, the professional soldier, with his coat of mail
and his battle-axe, and the churl who hastened to defend his field with
nothing but his javelin and his leathern jerkin, alike looked on the
horse only as a means to convey the warrior to and from the field of
battle. The introduction of cavalry into the English armies might
perhaps have been an improvement, but it was an improvement which could
not be carried into effect with a sudden levy within sight of the enemy.
But Ralph despised the English tactics, and would have his army arrayed
according to the best and newest continental models. A French prince
could not condescend to command a host who walked into action on their
own feet, according to the barbarous English fashion. The men of
Herefordshire were therefore required to meet the harassing attacks of
the nimble Welsh, and the more fearful onslaught of Ælfgar’s Danes,
while still [Sidenote: The battle is therefore lost.] mounted on their
horses. The natural consequences followed; before a spear was hurled,
the English took to flight.[1159] Nothing else could have been
reasonably looked for; however strong may have been the hearts of their
riders, horses which had not gone through the necessary training would
naturally turn tail at the unaccustomed sights and sounds of an army in
battle array.[1160] But in one account we find a statement which is far
stranger and more disgraceful. If Ralph required his men to practise an
unusual and foreign tactic, he and his immediate companions should at
least have shown them in their own persons an example of its skilful and
valiant carrying out. But we are told that Ralph, with his French and
Normans, were the first to fly, and that the English in their flight did
but follow the example of their leader.[1161] I suspect some
exaggeration here. Whatever may have been the case with the timid Earl
himself, mere cowardice was certainly not a common Norman, or even
French, failing. For a party of French knights to take to flight on the
field of battle without exchanging a single spear-thrust, is something
almost unheard of. It is far more likely that we have here a little
perversion arising from national dislike. It is far more likely that,
whatever Ralph himself may have done, the Normans in his company were
simply carried away by the inevitable, and therefore in no way
disgraceful, flight of the English. Anyhow, the battle, before it had
begun, was changed into a rout. The enemy pursued. The light-armed and
nimble Welsh were probably well able to overtake the clumsily mounted
English. Four or five hundred were killed, and many more wounded. On the
side of Ælfgar and Gruffydd we are told that not a man was lost.[1162]
[Sidenote: Ælfgar and Gruffydd sack and burn Hereford.]
The Welsh King and the English Earl entered Hereford the same day[1163]
without resistance. The chief object of their wrath seems to have been
the cathedral church of the [Sidenote: Story of Æthelberht of
East-Anglia. 792.] diocese, the minster of Saint Æthelberht. The holy
King of the East-Angles, betrothed to the daughter of the famous Offa,
had come to seek his bride at her father’s court. He was there murdered
by the intrigues of Cynethryth, the wife of the Mercian King.[1164] He
became the local saint of Hereford, and the minster of the city boasted
[Sidenote: Æthelstan, Bishop of Hereford. 1012–1056.] of his relics as
its choicest treasure. That church was now ruled by Æthelstan, an aged
Prelate, who had already sat for forty-three years.[1165] But, for the
last twelve years, blindness had caused him to retire from the active
government of his diocese, which was administered by a Welsh Bishop
named Tremerin.[1166] Æthelstan is spoken of as a man of eminent
holiness, and he had, doubtless in his more active days, rebuilt the
minster of Saint Æthelberht, and enriched it with many ornaments. The
invaders attacked the church with the fury of heathens; indeed among the
followers of Ælfgar there may still have been votaries of Thor and Odin.
Seven of the Canons attempted to defend the great door of the church,
but they were cut down without mercy.[1167] The church was burned, and
all its relics and ornaments were lost. Of the citizens many were slain,
and others were led into captivity.[1168] The whole town was sacked and
set fire to, and the Welsh account specially adds that Gruffydd
destroyed the fort or citadel.[1169] The history which follows seems to
imply that the town itself was not fortified, but merely protected by
this fortress. At its date or character we can only guess. Hereford is
not spoken of among the fortresses raised by Eadward the Elder and his
sister Æthelflæd. It is an obvious conjecture that the fortress
destroyed by Gruffydd was a Norman castle raised by Ralph. A chief who
was so anxious to make his people conform to Norman ways of fighting
would hardly linger behind his neighbour at Richard’s Castle, in at once
providing himself with a dwelling-place, and his capital with a defence,
according to the latest continental patterns. If so, we may easily form
a picture of the Hereford of those days. By the banks of the Wye rose
the minster, low and massive, but crowned by one or more of those tall
slender towers, in which the rude art of English masons strove to
reproduce the campaniles of Northern Italy. Around the church were
gathered the houses of the Bishop, the Canons, the citizens, the last at
least mainly of wood. Over all rose the square mass of the Norman
donjon, an ominous presage of the days which were soon to come. All,
church, castle, houses, fell before the wasting arms of Ælfgar and
Gruffydd. They went away rejoicing in their victory and in the rich
booty which [Sidenote: Deaths of Tremerin, 1055, and Æthelstan, February
10, 1056.] they carried. The blow seems to have broken the hearts of the
two Prelates whose flock suffered so terribly. Tremerin died before the
end of the year, and Æthelstan early in the year following.[1170]
King Eadward was now in his usual winter-quarters at Gloucester. Either
the time of the Christmas Gemót was hastened, or the King, in such an
emergency, acted on his own responsibility. The defence of the country
and the chastisement of the rebels could no longer be left in the hands
of his incapable nephew. The occasion called for the wisest head and the
strongest arm in the whole realm. [Sidenote: Harold sent against the
Welsh.] Though his own government had not been touched, the Earl of the
West-Saxons was bidden to gather a force from all England, and to attack
the Welsh in their own land. It is not unlikely that his brother was, as
in a later war with the same enemy, summoned from Northumberland to his
help.[1171] Late as was the season of the year, [Sidenote: Comparison of
his earlier and later Welsh campaigns.] Harold did not shrink from the
task.[1172] This seems to have been his first experience of Welsh
warfare, and we do not know whether he now adopted those special means
of adapting his operations to the peculiar nature of the country,
[Sidenote: 1063.] which he tried so successfully in his later and more
famous campaign. He then, as we shall see, caused his soldiers to adopt
the light arms and loose array of the Welsh, and so proved more than a
match for them at their own weapons. The story seems rather to imply
that he did not do so on this occasion, and that the later stroke of his
genius was the result of the lessons which he now learned. In neither
case did a Welsh enemy dare to meet Harold in a pitched battle, but
there is a marked difference between the two campaigns; in the earlier
one, the Welsh successfully escaped Harold’s pursuit, while, in the
later one, they were unable to do so. Harold gathered his army at
Gloucester; he passed the Welsh border, and pitched his camp beyond the
border district of Straddele.[1173] But the main point is that Gruffydd
and Ælfgar, who had marched so boldly to the conflict with Ralph,
altogether shrank from giving battle to Harold. They escaped into South
Wales. Harold, finding it vain to pursue such an enemy, desisted from
the attempt. He dismissed the greater part of his army, that is probably
the militia of the shires, merely bidding them keep themselves in
readiness to withstand the enemy in case of [Sidenote: Harold fortifies
Hereford.] any sudden inroad.[1174] With the rest of his troops, that is
probably with his own following, he proceeded to take measures for
securing the important post of Hereford against future attacks. The
castle had been levelled with the ground, the church was a ruin, the
houses of the townsmen were burned. Harold set himself to repair the
mischief, but his notions of defending a city were different from those
of the Frenchman Ralph. The first object of the English Earl was to
secure the town itself, not to provide a stronghold for its governor. It
does not appear that he rebuilt the castle, but he at once supplied the
city itself with the requisite defences. So important a border town was
no longer to be left open to the incursions of every enemy or rebel. As
a military measure, to meet a temporary emergency, he surrounded the
town with a ditch and a strong wall. This wall, in its first estate,
though strengthened by gates and bars, seems to have been itself merely
a dyke of earth and rough stones. But, before the reign of Eadward was
ended, Harold, then Earl of the shire, followed the example of Eadward
at Towcester and Æthelstan at Exeter, and surrounded the town with a
wall of masonry.[1175] The wooden houses of the citizens could soon be
rebuilt. Hereford was soon again peopled with burghers, both within and
without the wall, some of them the men of the King and others the men of
Earl Harold.[1176] The minster had been burned, but we must remember how
laxly that word is often taken. All its woodwork, all its fittings and
ornaments, were of course destroyed, the walls would be blackened and
damaged, but it was capable of at least temporary repair, as Bishop
Æthelstan was buried in it next year.[1177] Under the care of Earl
Harold, Hereford was again a city.
[Sidenote: Peace of Billingsley. 1055.]
Meanwhile Ælfgar and Gruffydd sued for peace. Messages went to and fro,
and at last a conference was held between them and Harold at Billingsley
in Shropshire, a little west of the Severn. Harold was never disposed to
press hardly on an enemy, and he may possibly have felt that he was
himself in some sort the cause of all that had happened, if he had
promoted any ill-considered charges [Sidenote: General mildness of
English political warfare.] against his rival. In fact, rude and
ferocious as those times were in many ways, the struggles of English
political life were then carried on with much greater mildness than they
were in many later generations. Blood was often lightly shed, but it was
hardly ever shed by way of judicial sentence. A victorious party never
sent the vanquished leaders either to a scaffold or to a dungeon.
Banishment was the invariable sentence, and banishment in those days
commonly supplied the means of return. Thus when Gruffydd and Ælfgar
sought for peace, it was easily granted to them; Ælfgar was even
restored to the Earldom which he had forfeited. It was probably thought
that he was less dangerous as Earl of the East-Angles, than as a
banished man who could at any time cause an invasion of the country from
Wales or Ireland. His fleet sailed to Chester, and there awaited the pay
which he had promised the crews.[1178] Whether the payment was defrayed
out of the spoils of [Sidenote: Ælfgar restored to his Earldom.
Christmas, 1055–1056.] Herefordshire we are not told. Ælfgar now came to
the King, and was formally restored to his dignity.[1179] This was done
in the Christmas Gemót, in which we may suppose that the terms of the
peace of Billingsley were formally confirmed.
[Sidenote: Invasion of England by Gruffydd and Magnus. 1056.]
Peace with Gruffydd was easily decreed in words, but it was not so
easily carried out in act. The restless Briton eagerly caught at any
opportunity of carrying his ravages beyond the Saxon border. The Welsh
Annals here fill up a gap in our own, and make the story more
intelligible. With the help of a Scandinavian chief whom it is not easy
to identify, but who is described as Magnus the son of Harold,[1180]
Gruffydd make a new incursion into Herefordshire. We may well believe
that the restoration and fortification of Hereford was felt as a thorn
in his side. This time the defence of the city and shire was not left in
the hands of any Earl, fearful or daring, but fell to one of the
[Sidenote: Death of Bishop Æthelstan. February 10, 1056.] warlike
Prelates in whom that age was so fertile. Bishop Æthelstan, as I have
already said, died early in the year at Bosbury, an episcopal lordship
lying under the western slope of the Malvern Hills.[1181] His burial in
Saint Æthelberht’s minster must have been the first great public
ceremony in the restored city. In the choice of a successor, Eadward, or
rather Harold, was actuated at least as much [Sidenote: Leofgar, Bishop
of Hereford. March 27, 1056.] by military as by ecclesiastical
considerations. The see of the venerable and pious Æthelstan was filled
by a Prelate of whom, during a very short career, we hear only in the
character of a warrior. This was Leofgar, a chaplain of the Earl’s,
whose warlike doings seem to have been commemorated in popular ballads.
He laid aside his chrism and his rood, his ghostly weapons, and took to
his spear and his sword and went forth to the war against Gruffydd the
Welsh King.[1182] But the warfare of this valiant churchman [Sidenote:
His death in battle. June 16, 1056.] was unfortunate. He had not been
three months a Bishop before he was killed, and with him his priests, as
also Ælfnoth the Sheriff[1183] and many other good men. The Chronicler
goes on to complain bitterly of the heavy grievances attending on a
Welsh war. It is clear that the way had not yet been found out how
really to quell the active sons of the mountains, when their spirits
were thoroughly aroused by an able and enterprising prince like
Gruffydd. The complaint does not dwell on losses in actual fight, which
were probably comparatively [Sidenote: Character of the war with
Gruffydd.] small. The Welsh would seldom venture on an actual battle
with the English, even when commanded by captains very inferior to
Harold. They would not run such a risk, except when they were either
supported by Scandinavian allies, or else when they were able to take
the Saxons at some disadvantage. What the Chronicler paints is the
wearing, cheerless, bootless kind of warfare which is carried on with a
restless enemy who can never be brought to a regular battle. It is not
ill success in fighting that he speaks of, but the wretchedness of
endless marching and encamping, and the loss of men and horses,
evidently by weariness rather than by the sword.[1184] The wisest heads
in the nation agreed that a stop must, at any cost, be put [Sidenote:
Ealdred holds the see of Hereford with that of Worcester.] to this state
of things. On the death of Leofgar, the see of Hereford was committed to
Bishop Ealdred, whose energy seems to have shrunk from no amount of
burthens, ecclesiastical, military, or civil.[1185] By the counsel of
this Prelate, and of the Earls Leofric and Harold, the Welsh [Sidenote:
Gruffydd reconciled to Eadward. 1056.] King was reconciled to his
English overlord.[1186] This expression may be only a decorous way of
attributing to the King personally a measure which was really the act of
the three able statesmen who are represented as intervening between him
and his dangerous vassal. But Eadward did sometimes exert a will of his
own, and when he did so, his will was often in favour of more violent
courses than seemed wise or just in the eyes of his counsellors. It is
quite possible then that Eadward was, as he well might be, strongly
incensed against Gruffydd, and that it needed all the arguments of
Leofric and Harold, and of Ealdred so renowned as a peacemaker,[1187] to
persuade the King to come to any terms with one so stained with treason
and sacrilege. And undoubtedly, at this distance of time, there does
seem somewhat of national humiliation in the notion of making peace with
Gruffydd, after so many invasions and so many breaches of faith, on any
terms but those of his complete [Sidenote: His oath of homage.]
submission. We must take the names of Harold, Leofric, and Ealdred as a
guaranty that such a course was necessary. Gruffydd did indeed so far
humble himself as to swear to be for the future a faithful under-King to
Eadward.[1188] It would also seem that the rebellious vassal was
[Sidenote: He loses his lands in Cheshire.] mulcted of a small portion
of his territories. Eadward had, at some earlier time, granted to
Gruffydd certain lands, seemingly that portion of the present shire of
Chester which lies west of the Dee. These lands were now forfeited, and
restored to the see of Lichfield and other English possessors from whom
they had been originally taken.[1189] We know not whether the grant was
an original act of Eadward, or whether it was a convenient legal
confirmation of some irregular seizure made by the Welsh King. Gruffydd
was perhaps bought off in this way after some of his former incursions,
most likely at [Sidenote: 1046.] the moment of his temporary cooperation
with Swegen.[1190] If so, the restoration of the alienated lands was now
required as a condition of peace. This homage of Gruffydd, and this
surrender of lands, remind us of the homage [Sidenote: 1277.] and
surrender made, under the like circumstances, by the last successor of
Gruffydd to a greater Edward.[1191] As for the Welsh King’s oath, it was
kept after the usual fashion, that is, till another favourable
opportunity occurred for breaking it.
[Sidenote: Cooperation of Harold, Leofric, and Ealdred.]
One other point may be noted in connexion with this last transaction.
That is the way in which Harold, Leofric, and Ealdred are described as
acting together. If this implies no further cooperation, it at least
implies that these three took the same side in a debate in the
Witenagemót. Yet Leofric was the father of Harold’s rival Ælfgar, and
the last time that the names of Harold and Ealdred were coupled was when
Ealdred was sent to [Sidenote: 1051.] follow after Harold on his journey
to Bristol. But now all these old grudges seem to have been forgotten.
In fact not one of the three men was likely to prolong a grudge
needlessly. Harold’s policy was always a policy of conciliation; if—what
we can by no means affirm—his conduct with regard to the outlawry of
Ælfgar was at all of another character, it was the last example in his
history. Ealdred was emphatically the peacemaker. He had no doubt long
ago made his own peace with Harold, and he had probably used his
influence to reconcile him with any with whom reconciliation was still
needful. Leofric had often been opposed to Godwine, and must have looked
with uncomfortable feelings on his wonderful rise. But he had never been
a bitter or violent enemy; we have always found him playing the part of
a mediator between extreme parties. There is no trace of any personal
quarrel between him and Harold. He may have thought himself wronged in
the outlawry of his son; but he could not fail to condemn Ælfgar’s later
conduct and to approve that of Harold. He must have admired Harold’s
energetic carriage in the Welsh campaign and in the restoration of
Hereford. And Leofric doubtless felt, whether Ælfgar felt or not, some
gratitude to Harold for his conciliatory behaviour at Billingsley, and
for the restoration of Ælfgar to his Earldom. All that we know of the
good old Earl of the Mercians leads us to look on him as a man who was
quite capable of sacrificing the interests and passions of himself or
his family to the general welfare of his country.
§ 3. _From Harold’s first Campaign against Gruffydd to the Deaths of
Leofric and Ralph._ 1055–1057.
[Sidenote: Hermann, Bishop of Ramsbury, seeks to obtain the Abbey of
Malmesbury. 1055.]
A few detached ecclesiastical events must be mentioned as happening in
the course of these two years of war with Gruffydd. The see of Wiltshire
or Ramsbury[1192] was, it will be remembered, now held by Hermann, one
of the Lotharingian Prelates who were favoured by Godwine and Harold as
a sort of middle term between Englishmen and Frenchmen.[1193] This
preferment was not, at least in Hermann’s eyes, a very desirable one.
The church of Ramsbury, unlike other cathedral churches, seems not to
have been furnished with any company of either monks or canons,[1194]
and the Bishop therefore found himself somewhat solitary. The revenues
also of the see were small, an evil which seems to have pressed more
heavily on a stranger than it would have done on a native. Other Bishops
of Ramsbury, Hermann said, had been natives of the country, and the
poverty of their ecclesiastical income had been eked out by the bounty
of English friends and kinsfolk. He, a stranger, had no means of support
to look to except the insufficient revenues of his Bishoprick.[1195] He
had, it appears, been long looking forward to annexing, after the manner
of the time, a second Bishoprick to his own. As Leofric had united
Crediton and Saint German’s, Hermann hoped to unite Ramsbury and
Sherborne, whenever a vacancy should occur in the latter see. Hermann,
as the mission with which he had been entrusted shows,[1196] stood high
in royal favour, and the Lady Eadgyth had long before promised to use
her influence on his behalf, whenever the wished for opportunity should
occur.[1197] But another means of increasing the episcopal wealth of
Ramsbury now presented itself. The Abbot of Malmesbury was dead. Though
the monasteries had not yet reached their full measure of exemption from
episcopal control, we may be sure that the Bishops had already begun to
look with jealousy on those heads of great monastic houses who had
gradually grown up into rival Prelates within their own dioceses.
Hermann at Ramsbury felt towards the Abbey of Malmesbury, as in after
days his countryman Savaric at Wells felt towards the Abbey of
Glastonbury.[1198] Here was a good opportunity at once for raising his
Bishoprick to a proper standard of temporal income and for getting rid
of a rival who was doubtless a thorn in his side. He would forsake
Ramsbury, with its poor income and lack of clerks, and fix his episcopal
throne in the rich and famous minster which boasted of the burying-place
of Æthelstan.[1199] He laid his scheme before the King, who approved of
it; he went away from the royal presence already in expectation Bishop
of Malmesbury. But two parties interested in the matter had not been
consulted, the monks of Malmesbury and the Earl of the West-Saxons. The
monks were certain to feel [Sidenote: Relation of Bishops and Monks.]
the utmost repugnance to any such union. They might reasonably fear that
the Lotharingian Prelate might seek to reconstruct the foundation of his
newly made cathedral church according to the canonical pattern of his
own country. The rule of Chrodegang, which, to the Canons of Wells and
Exeter,[1200] seemed to be an insufferable approach to monastic
austerity, would seem to the monks of Malmesbury to be a no less
insufferable approach to secular laxity. Or, even if the Bishop allowed
the church to retain its ancient monastic constitution, the monks would
have no desire for any such close connexion with the Bishoprick. They
doubtless, as the monks of Glastonbury did afterwards, greatly preferred
a separate Abbot of their own. The monks of Malmesbury therefore betook
themselves to the common helper of the oppressed, and laid their
grievances at the feet of Earl Harold.[1201] As the natural protector of
all men, monks and otherwise, within his Earldom, Harold pleaded their
cause before the King. Within three days after the original concession
to Hermann,[1202] before any formal step had been taken to put him in
possession of the Abbey,[1203] the grant was revoked, and the church of
Malmesbury was allowed to retain its ancient constitution.[1204]
[Sidenote: Manifest action of the Witan.]
The speed with which this business was dispatched shows that it must
have been transacted at a meeting of the Witan held at no great distance
from Malmesbury. Such a change as the transfer of a Bishop’s see from
one church to another could certainly not have been made or contemplated
without the consent of the Witan. And for the monks to hear the news, to
debate, to obtain Harold’s help, and for Harold to plead for them,
within three days, shows that the whole took place while the Witan were
actually in session. Of the places where Gemóts were usually held the
nearest to Malmesbury is Gloucester, the usual scene of the Christmas
Assembly. The monks, or enough of them to act in the name of the house,
may perhaps themselves have been present there, and may have determined
on their course without going home to Malmesbury. But the distance
between Malmesbury and Gloucester is not too great to have allowed the
business, in a moment of such emergency, to have been discussed within
the three days, both in the Gemót at Gloucester and in the chapter-house
at Malmesbury. One can hardly [Sidenote: Christmas, 1055.] doubt that
this affair took place in the Christmas Gemót in which the Peace of
Billingsley was confirmed and Ælfgar reinstated in his Earldom.
[Sidenote: Harold’s action in the matter.]
The part played by Harold in this matter should also be noticed. Harold
was no special lover of monks; the chief objects of his own more
discerning bounty were the secular clergy. But he was no enemy to the
monastic orders; he had, as we have seen in more than one case, approved
and suggested the favours shown to them by others; he had even, once at
least, appeared as a monastic benefactor himself.[1205] And, at any
rate, monks or no monks, the brethren of Malmesbury were a society of
Englishmen, who were threatened with the violation of an ancient right
through what clearly was a piece of somewhat hasty legislation. To step
in on their behalf was an act in no way unworthy of the great Earl, and
it was quite in harmony with his usual moderate and conciliatory policy.
[Sidenote: Hermann becomes a monk at Saint Omer.]
The remainder of the story is curious. Hermann, displeased at being thus
balked when he thought himself so near success, gave up, or at least
forsook, his Bishoprick, crossed the sea, and assumed the monastic habit
in the Abbey of Saint Bertin at Saint Omer.[1206] But the fire so
suddenly kindled soon burned out; Hermann chafed under the fetters of
monastic discipline, and wished to be again in the world.[1207] After
three years, his earlier scheme once more presented itself to his mind,
when the see of Sherborne became vacant by the death of Bishop Ælfwold.
He returned to England, he pleaded his cause with the King, and found
[Sidenote: Hermann returns and unites Ramsbury and Sherborne. 1058.] no
opposition from the Earl.[1208] No appointment to Ramsbury had been made
during Hermann’s absence; the administration of the diocese was
entrusted to the indefatigable Bishop Ealdred, who thus had the care of
three dioceses, Worcester, Hereford, and Ramsbury.[1209] Perhaps Hermann
was looked on as still being Bishop, and the promise of the Lady with
regard to the union of the sees of Ramsbury and Sherborne was held to be
still binding. At all events, on Hermann’s return, Ealdred gave up
Ramsbury, and Hermann became Bishop of the united Sees. He held
[Sidenote: Died 1078.] them for twenty years longer; he survived the
Conquest twelve years,[1210] and he lived to merge the old diocesan
names of Ramsbuiy and Sherborne in one drawn from an altogether new seat
of episcopal authority, the waterless hill of the elder Salisbury.[1211]
[Sidenote: Death of Earl Odda. August 31, 1056.]
The year of Bishop Leofgar’s unlucky attempt to win fame as a warrior
was marked by the death of Earl Odda, the King’s kinsman. He had been
set over the western parts of Godwine’s Earldom during the year of his
banishment,[1212] and since his return he had probably held, under the
superiority of Leofric, the Earldom of the whole or part of the old land
of the Hwiccas.[1213] His unpatriotic conduct in those times seems, even
in the eyes of our most patriotic chroniclers, to have been fully atoned
for by his personal virtues and by the favour which he showed to
monasteries. He is accordingly sent out of the world with a splendid
panegyric.[1214] Before his death he was admitted a monk by his diocesan
Ealdred,[1215] who might thus, by bringing so goodly a sheep into the
monastic fold, atone for having himself forsaken the cloister for the
cares of government and warfare. He died at Deerhurst, under the shadow
of the minster of his own building, but his own burial-place was at
Pershore,[1216] another of the many Abbeys of a land which, next to the
eastern fens, was the richest [Sidenote: Æthelric, Bishop of Durham
1042–1056, resigns his see.] district of England in monasteries of early
date. In the course of the same year, Æthelric, Bishop of Durham, the
successor of the simoniacal Eadred,[1217] resigned his see and became
again a monk at Peterborough, in which [Sidenote: [Dies Oct. 15, 1072.]]
monastery he had spent his youth.[1218] He was, through the influence of
Tostig,[1219] succeeded in his Bishoprick by his brother alike in the
flesh and in monastic profession, [Sidenote: Æthelwine succeeds.
1056–1071.] Æthelwine, another monk of the Golden Borough.[1220] Both
brothers survived the Norman Conquest, and we shall see each of them,
alike on the throne of Durham and in the cloister of Peterborough,
become victims of the watchful jealousy of the Norman Conqueror.
[Sidenote: Eadward Ætheling arrives from Hungary. 1057.]
The next year is conspicuously a year of deaths, and a year of deaths
which affected the state of England far more sensibly than the deaths of
Earl Odda and Bishop Æthelric. The first recorded event of the year is
the arrival of the Ætheling Eadward from Hungary.[1221] The mission of
Ealdred had not failed through the death of [Sidenote: [Death of the
Emperor Henry. 1056.]] the great prince to whom he was sent,[1222] and,
three years after the reception of the English Bishop at Köln, the
English Ætheling, if English we may call him, set foot on the shores
from which he had been sent into banishment as a helpless babe.[1223] He
now, at the age of forty-one, came for the first time to his native
country, and he came in a character as nearly approaching to that of
heir presumptive to the English Crown as the laws of our [Sidenote:
Prospects of his succession to the Crown.] elective monarchy allowed. He
came with his foreign wife and his children of foreign birth. And it can
hardly fail but that he was himself, in speech and habits, as foreign as
the Norman favourites of Eadward, more foreign than the men of kindred
tongue whom Godwine and Harold were glad to encourage in opposition to
them.[1224] The succession of such a prince, even less of an Englishman
than the reigning King, promised but little good to the Kingdom. Still
the succession of the Ætheling would have had one great advantage. It
was hardly possible that the claims of William could be successfully
pressed against him. A supposed promise of King Eadward in William’s
favour could hardly be maintained in the teeth of a bequest and an
election in favour of an Englishman of royal birth and mature years,
against whom William could have no personal complaint whatever.
Incomparably inferior as Eadward doubtless was to Harold in every
personal qualification, his succession could never have given William
the opportunities which were afterwards given him by the accession of
Harold. Eadward could not have been held up as an usurper, a perjurer, a
man faithless to his lord, nor, had he been the opponent, could the
superstitions of the time have been appealed to to avenge the fancied
insult offered to the relics of the Norman saints. We can thus fully
understand why an English poet, clearly writing by the light of later
experience, laments the death of the Ætheling as the cause of all the
woes which came upon this poor nation.[1225] Even at the time, when
men’s eyes were not yet so fully opened, we may be sure that England
rejoiced in his coming, and bitterly lamented his speedy removal. The
son of the hero Ironside, the last adult male of the royal line, must,
whatever were his personal qualities, have attracted to himself an
interest which was not purely sentimental.
[Sidenote: Death of the Ætheling Eadward. 1057.]
The Ætheling then came to England; but he never saw his namesake the
King. He died almost immediately afterwards in London,[1226] and was
buried with his grandfather Æthelred in Saint Paul’s minster. Why he was
shut out from the royal presence was unknown then as well as now.[1227]
[Sidenote: His exclusion from the royal presence,] The fact that his
exclusion was commented on at the time might seem to forbid, and yet
perhaps it does not wholly forbid, the simplest explanation of all, that
he was ill at the time of his landing, and that the illness which caused
his death also hindered his presentation to his uncle. If the exclusion
had a political object, to what party ought [Sidenote: not likely to be
due to Harold,] we to attribute it? A distinguished modern writer
attributes it, though not very confidently, to the partizans of
Harold.[1228] But it is not at all clear that Harold as yet aspired to
the throne; it is far more probable that it was the death of the last
adult Ætheling which first suggested to Harold and his friends the
possibility of the succession of a King not of the royal house. Because
Harold did in the end succeed Eadward, we must beware of supposing that
his succession had been looked forward to during the whole reign of
Eadward. There must have been some moment when the daring thought—for a
daring thought it was—of aspiring to a royal crown first presented
itself to the mind of Harold or of those to whom Harold hearkened. And
no moment seems so clearly marked out for that purpose by all the
circumstances of the case as the moment of the death of the Ætheling. If
Harold had wished to thwart a design of King Eadward’s in favour of his
nephew, he would hardly have waited for his landing in England to
practise his devices. He would rather have laboured to hinder Ealdred’s
mission in the first instance, or to render it abortive, in some way or
other, during the long period over which the negotiation [Sidenote: but
rather to the Norman courtiers,] was spread. If the exclusion of the
Ætheling from his uncle’s presence was really owing to the machinations
of any political party, there is another party on which the charge may
fall with far greater probability. There was another possible successor
who had far more to fear from the good will of the King towards the
Ætheling than Harold had. Whether Harold had begun to aspire to the
Crown or not, there can be little doubt that William had, and William
was still by no means without influence at the English Court. There were
still Normans about Eadward, Bishop William of London, Robert the son of
Wymarc, Hugolin the Treasurer, and others whom Godwine or Harold had,
perhaps unwisely, exempted from the general proscription. To exclude—by
some underhand means, if at all—a prince of the blood from the presence
of his uncle and sovereign, sounds much more like the act of a party of
this kind, than the act of a man whom both office and character made the
first man in the realm. The thing, if done at all, was clearly some
wretched court intrigue, the fitting work of a foreign faction. The Earl
of the West-Saxons, had his interests been concerned in the matter,
would have set about hindering [Sidenote: but, more probably than
either, the result of illness.] the Ætheling’s succession in quite
another way. But after all, it is far more likely that the fact that the
two Eadwards never met was not owing either to the partizans of Harold
or to the partizans of William, but that it was simply the natural
result of the illness of which the Ætheling presently died.
[Sidenote: Surmise of Sir F. Palgrave that Harold caused the death of
the Ætheling.]
Another, and a far worse, insinuation against the great Earl hardly
needs to be refuted. Among all the calumnies with which, for eight
hundred years, the name of Harold has been loaded, there is one whose
suggestion has been reserved for our own times. Norman enemies have
distorted every action of his life; they have misrepresented every
circumstance of his position; they have charged him with crimes which he
never committed; they have looked at all his acts through such a mist of
prejudice that the victory of Stamfordbridge is changed under their
hands into a wicked fratricide.[1229] But no writer of his own time, or
of any time before our own, has ever ventured to insinuate that Earl
Harold had a hand in the death of the Ætheling Eadward. That
uncharitable surmise was reserved for an illustrious writer of our own
time, in whom depreciation of the whole House of Godwine had become a
sort of passion.[1230] It is enough to say that, has there been the
faintest ground for such an accusation, had the idea ever entered into
the mind of any man of Harold’s own age,[1231] some Norman slanderer or
other would have been delighted to seize upon it.[1232] Nothing is more
easy than to charge any man with having secretly made away with another
man by whose death he profits, and the charge is one which, as it is
easy to bring, is sometimes very hard to disprove. For that very reason,
it is a charge on which the historian always looks with great suspicion,
even when it is known to have been brought at the time and to have been
currently believed at the time. The general infamy of Eadric is fully
established, but we need not believe in every one of the secret murders
which rumour charged him with having committed or instigated. Still less
need we believe the tales which charge the Great William with having
more than once stooped to the trade of a secret poisoner.[1233] When we
think how easy the charge is to bring, and how recklessly it has been
brought at all times, the mere fact that no such charge was ever brought
against Harold does in truth redound greatly to his honour. Calumny
itself instinctively shrank from laying such a crime to the charge of
such a man. William was, as I believe, as guiltless of any such baseness
as Harold himself. But the charge did not seem wholly inconsistent with
the crafty and tortuous policy of the Norman Duke. The West-Saxon Earl,
ambitious no doubt and impetuous, but ever frank, generous, and
conciliatory, was at once felt to be incapable of such a deed.
[Sidenote: Heaca, Bishop of Selsey, dies.]
Three other deaths followed among the great men of the land, two of
which were of no small political importance. [Sidenote: Æthelric
succeeds. 1057.] It was not of any special moment, as far as we know,
when Heaca, Bishop of Selsey or of the South-Saxons, died, and was
succeeded by Æthelric, a monk of Christ Church.[1234] It [Sidenote:
Death of Earl Leofric. August 31, 1057.] was quite another matter when
the great Earl of the Mercians, so long the honoured mediator between
opposing races and opposing interests, died in a good old age in his own
house at Bromley in Staffordshire.[1235] Of all the churches and
monasteries which had been enriched and adorned by the bounty of Leofric
and Godgifu, none was dearer to them than the great minster of Coventry,
the city with which their names are inseparably connected in one of
those silly legends which have helped to displace our early
history.[1236] There Leofric was buried in the church which he and his
wife had raised from the foundations,[1237] and had enriched with gifts
which made it wealthier and more magnificent than all the minsters of
England.[1238] Godgifu survived her husband many years; she saw her son
and grandsons rise and fall; she saw her granddaughter share first a
vassal and then an Imperial Crown, and then vanish out of sight as a
homeless widow. At last she herself died, still in the possession of
some part at least of her vast estates, a subject of the Norman
invader.[1239]
[Sidenote: Death of Earl Ralph. December 21, 1057.]
A few months after the death of Leofric came the death of the stranger
who had seemingly held a subordinate Earldom under his authority. Ralph,
Earl of the Magesætas, the French nephew of King Eadward, died near the
end of the year, and was buried in the distant minster of
Peterborough,[1240] to which he had been a benefactor.[1241] [Sidenote:
His possible pretensions to the Crown.] I have already started the
question whether the thoughts of Eadward had ever turned towards him as
a possible successor.[1242] After the death of the Ætheling, the hopes
of Ralph and his brother Walter, if they had any, might again revive.
But if so, death soon cut short any such schemes. Walter, the reigning
prince of a foreign state, would have no chance. If any such prince were
to be chosen, it would be better at once to take the renowned Duke of
the Normans than the insignificant Count of Mantes. But Ralph, whether
he was ever actually thought of or not, was clearly a possible
candidate; his death therefore, following so soon after the death of the
Ætheling, removed another obstacle from the path of Harold.
[Sidenote: Redistribution of Earldoms. Christmas, 1057–1058?]
The deaths of the two Earls involved a redistribution of the chief
governments of England, which would naturally be carried out in the
following Christmas Gemót. The Earldom of the Mercians, such parts of it
at least as had been under the immediate authority of Leofric, was
conferred [Sidenote: Ælfgar Earl of the Mercians.] on his son
Ælfgar.[1243] It shows how vast must have been the hereditary influence
of his house, when such a trust could not be refused to a man who had so
lately trampled under foot every principle of loyalty and patriotism.
But care was taken to make him as little dangerous as possible. Ælfgar
may have hoped that, on the death of Ralph, the Earldom of the Magesætas
would again be merged in Mercia, and that, excepting the shires attached
to Northumberland, he might rule over the whole realm of Offa and
Æthelflæd. But policy altogether forbade that the Herefordshire border
should be again placed in the hands of one who had so lately acted as
the [Sidenote: Marriage of Gruffydd and Ealdgyth.] ally of Gruffydd. We
know not whether the Welsh King had already entered into a still closer
relation with the English Earl by his marriage with Ælfgar’s beautiful
daughter Ealdgyth. The date of that marriage is not recorded; it may
have already taken place, or it may have happened on the next occasion,
one distant only by a few months, when we shall find the names of
Gruffydd and Ælfgar coupled together. But if the Welsh King was already
the son-in-law of the Mercian Earl, there was a still further reason for
placing some special safeguard on that border of the realm. In short,
the government of Herefordshire was so important that it could not be
safely placed in any hands but those of the foremost man in England.
There is distinct evidence to show that, within two or three years after
the death of [Sidenote: Herefordshire added to Harold’s Earldom.]
Leofric, the Earldom of Herefordshire was in the hands of Harold.[1244]
We can therefore hardly doubt that, on the resettlement which must have
followed the deaths of Leofric and Ralph, the Earldom of the Magesætas
was attached to the Earldom of the West-Saxons, and that Harold now
became the immediate ruler of the district of which he had been the
deliverer, and of the city of which he might [Sidenote: Harold the son
of Ralph.] claim to be the second founder. Earl Ralph had left a son, a
namesake, probably a godson, of the great Earl, and Harold the son of
Ralph appears in Domesday as a landowner both before and after the
Conquest. His name still survives within his father’s Earldom, where it
cleaves to an existing parish and to a castle which has wholly vanished.
But Earldoms were not hereditary, and the son of Ralph was so young
that, eight years later, he was still under wardship.[1245] On this
ground, if on no other, Harold, the great-nephew of Eadward, the
great-grandson of Æthelred, was so far from appearing as a competitor
for the Crown of his ancestors that he was not even thought of as a
possible successor for his father’s Earldom. His name is altogether
unknown to history, and but for his place in Domesday and in local
tradition, his very existence might have been forgotten. His renowned
namesake was now entrusted [Sidenote: Question as to Gloucestershire.]
with the great border government. But it is by no means clear whether
Harold held Herefordshire as a detached possession, as Northamptonshire
and Huntingdonshire were held by Siward and Tostig, or whether it was
connected with his West-Saxon Earldom by the possession of
Gloucestershire. If so, the rule of the Earl of the West-Saxons must now
have been extended over nearly all that was West-Saxon land in the days
of Ceawlin.[1246]
While the power of Harold was thus increased, the time seemed to have
come for raising the younger sons of Godwine to a share in the honours
of his house. The [Sidenote: Gyrth Earl of the East-Angles,
[1057–1058],] East-Anglian Earldom, vacated by the translation of Ælfgar
to Mercia, was now conferred on Gyrth. But the boundaries of the
government were changed. Essex was detached from East-Anglia. The new
Earl probably received only the two strictly East-Anglian shires, with
the [Sidenote: and of Oxfordshire.] addition of Cambridgeshire, to which
was afterwards added the detached shire of Oxford.[1247] The policy of
attaching [Sidenote: Policy of these detached shires.] these detached
shires to distant Earldoms is not very clear. It could not be the same
policy which afterwards led the Conqueror to scatter the fiefs of his
great vassals over distant portions of the Kingdom. There was certainly
no intention of weakening any of the Earls whose governments were thus
divided. The object was far more probably to bring the influence of the
House of Godwine to bear upon all parts of the country. Some old
connexion had attached Northamptonshire to Northumberland at an earlier
time, and the example thus given was seized on as a means for planting
the authority of the rising house in every convenient quarter.
Oxfordshire, it will be remembered, had formed part of the Earldom of
Swegen; it was now placed in the hands of Gyrth. For it was highly
important that the great frontier town of Mercia and Wessex, the seat of
so many important national meetings, should be in thoroughly trustworthy
hands. Ælfgar’s loyalty was most doubtful; it was impossible altogether
to oust him from command, but it was expedient to confine his powers of
mischief within the smallest possible compass, and to hem him in,
whenever it could be, by men who could be relied on. Unfortunately at
Chester, the most dangerous point of all, the family interest of the
House of Leofric was too strong to allow of that important shire being
put into any hands but those of Ælfgar. We shall presently see the
result.
[Sidenote: Leofwine Earl of Kent, Essex, &c.]
Leofwine also was apparently provided for at the same time.[1248] His
government, like that of Swegen at an earlier time, was carved out of
several ancient Kingdoms and Earldoms, but it lay much more compactly on
the map than the anomalous province which took in Oxford, Taunton, and
Hereford. It consisted in fact of south-eastern England—of Kent, Essex,
Hertford, Surrey, probably Buckinghamshire—that is of the shires round
the [Sidenote: London exempt.] mouth of the Thames. London, as was
natural, remained exempt from any jurisdiction but that of its Bishop
and the chief officers of the city. The whole East of England was thus
placed under the rule of the two younger sons of Godwine. But the
evidence of the writs seems to show that Harold retained a general
superintendence over their governments, whether simply as their elder
brother or in any more exalted character.
[Sidenote: The House of Godwine at its greatest point of greatness.
1058–1065.]
The House of Godwine had thus reached the greatest height of power and
dignity which a subject house could reach. Whatever was the origin of
the family, they had won for themselves a position such as no English
family ever won before or after. Four brothers, sons of a father who,
whether Earl or churl by birth, had risen to greatness by his own valour
and counsel, divided by far the greater part of England among them. The
whole Kingdom, save a few shires in the centre, was in their hands. And
three at least out of the four showed that they well deserved their
greatness. To the eldest among the four there evidently belonged a more
marked preeminence still. Two of his brothers, those most recently
appointed to Earldoms, were clearly little more than Harold’s
lieutenants. And a prospect of still higher greatness now lay open to
him [Sidenote: State of the royal line.] and his house. The royal line
was dying out. No adult male descendant of Æthelred remained; no adult
descendant of any kind remained within the Kingdom. The only survivors
of the true kingly stock were the son and daughters of the Ætheling,
children born in a foreign land. If any hopes of royalty had ever
flitted before the eyes of Ralph, such hopes could not extend to his son
the young Harold or to his brother the Count of Mantes. [Sidenote:
Harold’s prospect of the Crown.] The time was clearly coming when
Englishmen might choose for themselves a King from among their brethren,
unfettered by any traditional reverence for the blood of Ælfred, Cerdic,
and Woden. And when that day should come, on whom should the choice of
England fall save on the worthiest man of the worthiest house within the
realm? We cannot doubt that, from the year when the three deaths of
Eadward, Leofric, and Ralph seemed to sweep away all hindrances from his
path, Harold looked forward to a day when he and his might rise to a
rank yet loftier than that of Earl. It was no longer wholly beyond hope
that he might himself ascend the Imperial throne of Britain, and that
the Earldoms of England might be held by his brothers as Æthelings of
the House of Godwine. The event proves that such were the hopes of
Harold, that such, we may add, were the hopes of England. Such hopes
may, even at an earlier time, have flashed across the mind of Harold
himself or across the minds of zealous friends of his house or zealous
admirers of his exploits. But this was the first moment when such hopes
could have assumed anything like form and substance; it was the first
moment when the chances seemed distinctly to be rather for than against
their fulfilment. That Harold from this time doubtless aspired to the
Crown, that he directed all his conduct by a hope of securing the Crown,
cannot be doubted. And the unanimity with which he was raised to the
throne when the great day came seems to show that men’s minds had long
been prepared to look to him as their future sovereign. We cannot doubt
that, after the death of the Ætheling Eadward, Wessex and East-Anglia at
least were ready to transfer the English Crown from the line of Æthelred
to the line of Godwine.
[Sidenote: Questions as to Harold’s position.]
Two questions still remain. Did Harold, in thus looking forward to the
Crown, know, as he came to know at last, how formidable a rival was
making ready for him beyond the sea? And was the succession of Harold
merely a probability, a moral certainty it may be, to which men learned
to look forward as a matter of course, or were the hopes of the great
Earl confirmed by any act of the Witan or any promise of the King? Both
questions are hard to answer. Both are inseparably mixed up with the
most difficult questions in our whole history, the alleged promise made
to William by Eadward and the alleged oath made to him by Harold. I have
already expressed my belief that Eadward’s alleged promise to the Norman
Duke, which formed the main ground of William’s pretensions to the
English Crown, though exaggerated and perverted in the Norman accounts,
was not a mere Norman invention. I believe that some promise really was
made, and that the time when it was made was when William visited
Eadward during the banishment of Godwine.[1249] Of the nature and form
of that promise it is difficult to say anything. We may indeed
unhesitatingly dismiss the notion that a settlement was made in
William’s favour by a decree [Sidenote: Effects of Eadward’s promise to
William.] of the Witan. Still any promise of any kind could hardly have
been kept so complete a secret but that it must have got blazed abroad,
and have reached the ears of the Earl and his countrymen. The Norman
party, during their short moment of complete triumph, would have no
motive to keep the matter a secret. They would deem themselves to have
reached the great accomplishment of all that they had been scheming for,
when there seemed a prospect of the English Crown passing, without slash
or blow, to the brow of the Norman. The fact of the promise would
doubtless be known, and by statesmen it would be remembered. But it does
not follow that it would make any deep impression on the mass of the
nation. Men would hear of the promise in a vague sort of way, and would
at the time be divided between wonder and indignation. But the idea of
the succession of the Norman would be looked on as something which had
passed away with other Norman ideas, when the English Earls came back to
claim their own. Even after Harold’s election as King, the prospect of
the Norman invasion is spoken of in a way which seems to show that, to
the mass of Englishmen, the claim of William was even then something new
and surprising.[1250] [Sidenote: Policy of the patriotic party;] But by
a statesman like Harold, if the matter was once known, it would never be
forgotten. It would hardly be a thing to talk much of openly; but to
counteract any possible schemes of William must have been the main
object of Harold’s policy from the day when he was first called to the
head of affairs. We can understand how Eadward was led to deem his
promise null, and to send for [Sidenote: candidature first of Eadward
the Ætheling,] the Ætheling as his destined successor. This was, under
the circumstances, a great triumph of the national policy. A competitor,
accepted by the voice of the nation, was placed in William’s path, a
competitor whom William himself would hardly dare to attack. The death
of the Ætheling made matters more difficult. There was now no such
unexceptionable rival to oppose to the Norman. [Sidenote: then of
Harold.] Harold indeed, before his oath, was a far more formidable rival
to William than Harold after his oath. He had not yet given his enemy
that fatal advantage which the wily Duke knew so well how to employ. But
Harold’s succession would have all the disadvantages of a novelty. If he
could not yet be branded as a perjurer, yet he might be, in a way that
the Ætheling never could be, branded as an usurper. Either of the
Eadwards, in short, with Harold for his guide and counsellor, would be
really stronger than Harold himself as King. But the risk had now to be
run. The nation at large had most likely but vague notions as to the
danger. But Harold, Stigand, and all the leaders of the nation must have
known that any step that they took would bring on their country the
enmity of a most active and dangerous foe. Harold’s main object during
his whole administration clearly was to strengthen England at home and
abroad, to make her powerful and united when the inevitable day should
come.
[Sidenote: Question as to any formal act in Harold’s favour.]
It is a more difficult question whether Harold’s succession was at all
guaranteed, at this or at any time before Eadward’s death, by any formal
act either of the King or of the Witan. We know that Eadward did
exercise in Harold’s favour whatever influence or authority an English
King had in the nomination of his successor. That nomination appears to
have been finally and formally made on Eadward’s death-bed.[1251] But
such a death-bed nomination is in no way inconsistent with a promise to
the same effect at an earlier time. Any one indeed to whom such a
promise had been made would undoubtedly seek to have it confirmed with
all the solemnity which attaches to the last act of a dying man. And
there are several circumstances, none perhaps of any great weight
singly, but having together a sort of cumulative force, which seem to
[Sidenote: Quasi-royal position of Harold.] point to Harold from this
time as being something more than an ordinary Earl, however powerful and
popular, as being in some sort a sharer in the powers and honours of
royalty.[1252] We find his name coupled in public documents with that of
the King in a way which certainly is not usual with the name of any
subject. We find vassal princes plighting their faith to the King and to
the Earl, as if they were senior and junior colleagues in a common
office. We find Harold appearing in the eyes of foreigners under the
lofty guise of a Duke of the English. That sounding title cannot have
been really borne by him at home, but it seems to show that, even among
strangers, he was felt to hold the position of a prince rather than that
of the most exalted private noble. Lastly, in our best Latin chronicler
we find him distinctly called by a title which is nowhere else, to my
knowledge, conferred on a subject, but which is the familiar designation
of vassal princes.[1253] All these touches, coming from such different
quarters, seem naturally to suggest the view that Earl Harold was,
seemingly from the death of the Ætheling, publicly recognized as holding
a _quasi_-royal position, as being, in fact, the designated successor to
the Crown.
[Sidenote: Difficulties in the supposition of any formal vote.]
On the other hand, there are difficulties about the belief that this
position was conferred on Harold by any formal vote of the Witan. It is
plain that a perfectly free choice of the King during the actual vacancy
was a right which the English people, or their leaders, prized very
dearly. All attempts to limit the choice of the electors beforehand had
always signally failed.[1254] Since the abortive scheme of Æthelwulf,
nothing at all answering to a King of the Romans had been seen in
England.[1255] And if there were some reasons which, under present
circumstances, might make such an unusual course specially desirable,
there were other reasons which told against it with nearly equal force.
With the royal house on the verge of extinction, with such a competitor
as William carefully watching the course of events, it was most
desirable to settle the succession with as much certainty as the laws of
an elective monarchy allowed. It was most desirable that the successor
to the throne should be the man most fitted for the highest of offices,
the wisest head and the stoutest arm in the land. It was, in a word, the
wish of every clear-sighted patriot that the successor of Eadward should
be no other than Earl Harold. But, on the other hand, the choice of Earl
Harold, or of any other man not of kingly blood, was something strange
and unprecedented, something which might well shock the feelings and
prejudices of men. The choice of a new King would in fact be the choice
of a new dynasty; it would be to wipe out a sentiment as old as the days
when the first West-Saxon set foot on British ground; it would be to
transfer the Crown of Wessex, of England, of Britain, from the house of
Cerdic, of Ecgberht, and of Æthelstan to the house of Godwine the son of
Wulfnoth. Men might not as yet be so ready for so momentous a change as
they certainly were nine years [Sidenote: Possible claims of young
Eadgar.] later. And an irrevocable decision in favour of Harold might
well be looked on as a wrong done to a third possible competitor. The
royal house, though on the verge of extinction, was not yet extinct. The
Ætheling had left a son, the young Eadgar. The son was undoubtedly not
entitled to the same constitutional preference as his father. But in
some respects he was a more promising candidate than his father. Like
the renowned Bastard himself, he was little, but he would grow.[1256] If
a vacancy happened at once, his claims could hardly be pressed. But the
King might live many years, and Eadgar might succeed his great-uncle in
all the vigour of early manhood. He was not indeed, like his father, an
Englishman born, the son of an English King by an English mother. But
then he might be, as his father had not been, brought up with the
feelings of an Englishman, of a destined ruler of England. Nine years
before the death of Eadward, men might well deem that it was not
expedient, by any premature declaration in favour of the great Earl, to
cut off the chances of a succession in many ways so desirable as that of
the young Ætheling. If King Eadward lived long enough to make Eadgar’s
succession possible and expedient, that succession might, like that of
his father, form a better check to the ambition of William than the
succession of Harold.
[Sidenote: Probably no formal act, but a general understanding in favour
of Harold.]
On the whole then it is perhaps safer not to suppose any formal act of
the Witan on behalf of Harold. The circumstances of the case may be
explained by supposing that Eadward promised Harold his recommendation
in case of his own death during Eadgar’s childhood. It would be a sort
of understood thing that, in case of such an event, the Earl of the
West-Saxons would be a candidate for the Crown with every chance of
success. As Harold’s renown increased, as the chances of Eadward’s life
grew weaker, as Eadgar’s incapacity became more and more manifest, men
would look with more and more certainty to the great Earl as their
future King.[1257] Without any formal decree, he would, by common
consent, step into the position, or more than the position, of a born
Ætheling, and he would find himself insensibly sharing the powers, and
even the titles, of royalty. And we cannot doubt that the great rival
beyond sea was carefully watching every step of this process. If we
realize that Harold—the Duke of the English—was virtually, if not
formally, the designated successor to the Crown, we can still better
understand the eagerness of William to obtain by any means the Earl’s
recognition of his claims. It was not merely to bind the most powerful
man in the land to his cause; it was to obtain what was virtually an
abdication from one who was virtually the destined heir.
[Sidenote: Harold now chief ruler of England. 1057–1066.]
The famous oath of Harold is so uncertain as to its date and all its
circumstances that it might be treated without impropriety at almost any
stage of my narrative. But, as it is so uncertain, as it is recorded by
no contemporary English writer, I prefer to put off its consideration
till it is convenient to take up again the thread of Norman affairs, to
examine fully into William’s claims, and to describe his preparations to
assert those claims. Meanwhile we have to see how Harold ruled over
England, now that he was without an equal competitor within the land.
Save the shires ruled by the turbulent Ælfgar, the government of all
England was now divided between himself and his brothers; and there was
now nothing but the life of the reigning King between him and the
English Crown.