K’ert de force e sens garniz,
Ædelred k’out non, bon justisers,
K’en pees peisible en guerre ert fers.”
In short, for historical purposes, the French Life is absolutely
worthless, and Æthelred himself, though often preserving little
authentic touches, must be used with the greatest caution. But he, or
rather Osbert whom he follows, evidently drew largely from the
Biographer. In some cases rhetorical expressions in the authentic Life
seem, in the hands of the professed hagiographers, to have grown into
legendary facts. Thus the Biographer tells us (393, 394) that, when Emma
was with child of Eadward, popular expectation looked forward to the
birth of a future King, and that, when the child was born, he was at
once seen to be worthy to reign (“Antiqui Regis Æthelredi regiâ conjuge
utero gravidâ, in ejus partûs sobole si masculus prodiret, omnis
conjurat patria, in eo se dominum exspectare et Regem.... Natus ergo
puer dignus præmonstratur patriæ sacramento, qui quandoque paterni
sullimaretur solio”). This, in another and more rhetorical passage
(428), swells into “Felicissimæ mentionis Rex Ædwardus ante natalis sui
diem Deo est electus, unde ad regnum non tam ab hominibus quam, ut supra
diximus, divinitùs est consecratus.” All this is quite possible in a
sense. That is to say, men may have speculated on the possibility of a
son of Emma supplanting the children of the first Ælfgifu, just as
Æthelred himself had supplanted his brother Eadward. In Æthelred of
Rievaux (X Scriptt. 372) the rhetoric of the Biographer grows into a
regular election of the unborn babe. He is, after much deliberation,
chosen by all the people (“magnus episcoporum procerumque conventus,
magnus plebisque vulgique concursus”), in preference alike to his
half-brother Eadmund Ironside and to his own brother Ælfred, who is
erroneously supposed to be the elder of the two. A Norman Chronicler
goes a step further. The historian of Saint Wandrille (Chron.
Fontanellense, ap. D’Achery, ii. 286) describes Eadward as being not
only elected but crowned in his childhood (“Eguvardus, qui prior natu
erat, tener admodum et in puerilibus adhuc annis constitutus Rex,
jubente patre et favente populo terræ unctus est et consecratus”). Here
the command of Æthelred comes first; the will of the people is something
quite secondary. In the time of the French biographer, popular election
of Kings was a thing which had altogether gone out of date, and which
was not likely to be acceptable at the Court of Henry the Third. The
story is left out accordingly.
No feature in the legendary history of Eadward fills a more prominent
position in hagiography, none has won him more admiration from
hagiographers, than the terms on which he is said to have lived with his
wife. It is certain that, at a time when it was especially needful to
provide direct heirs to the Crown, the marriage of Eadward and Eadgyth
was childless. Eadward’s monastic admirers attribute this fact to the
resolution of Eadward, shared, according to some writers, by Eadgyth
also, to devote himself to a life of perpetual virginity. When we come
to examine the evidence, we shall find that this is one of those cases
in which each later writer knows more than the writers before him. The
earliest statements which have any bearing on the subject, though
consistent with the monastic theory, do not necessarily imply it, and
there are indications which look the other way. The tale grows as it is
handed down from one panegyrist to another, in a way which naturally
awakens suspicion. And when we consider the portrait of Eadward which is
given us, his personal appearance, his personal temperament, and most of
his tastes, we shall perhaps be led to guess that the unfruitfulness of
Eadward’s marriage was owing neither to any religious impediment nor yet
to barrenness on the part of a daughter of Godwine. The story is
probably due to a very natural process. The fact of Eadgyth’s
childlessness was explained by her husband’s admirers in the way which,
to their monastic imaginations, seemed most honourable to him, and
details of course grew in the usual fashion.
Let us now look through the evidence.
Florence and the prose text of the Chronicles are silent on the subject.
The poem in the Abingdon and Worcester Chronicles says that Eadward was
“Kyningc cystum gód,
_Clæne_ and milde,
Eadward se æðela.”
But surely this is no more than might be said of any man who was chaste
before marriage and faithful to his wife afterwards. The Biographer has
several passages which may be thought to bear on the subject. He says
(428) that Eadward “consecrationis dignitatem sanctam conservans
_castimoniâ_, omnem vitam agebat Deo dicatam in verâ innocentiâ.” This
again need not mean anything more than the words of the poem. In the
account of Bishop Brihtwold’s vision (394), Saint Peter is seen to crown
Eadward and “_cœlibem_ ei vitam designare.” One might say that this is
vision and not history, but the vision would of course be devised so as
to fit in with what was held to be the history. But, strange as it may
seem, the word _cœlebs_, as used by the Biographer, does not imply
either virginity or single life. He uses it (409. See above, P. 383) to
express the conjugal fidelity of Tostig, who was undoubtedly the father
of children. Elsewhere (p. 429) Eadward is called “columbinæ puritatis
Rex,” a phrase which may mean anything, but in the passage in which it
occurs there is no special mention of chastity. Lastly, Eadward (433) on
his death-bed is made to say of Eadgyth, “Obsequuta est mihi devotè, et
lateri meo semper propiùs adstitit in loco carissimæ filiæ.” But this is
surely no more than might be said by any maundering old man of a wife
much younger than himself. In none of these passages is there any direct
assertion of any vow or of any practice of virginity on the part of
Eadward. His chastity is undoubtedly praised. But the language in which
it is praised does not necessarily imply anything more than might be
said with equal truth of any faithful husband. If the Biographer had any
idea of the religious virginity of his hero and heroine, he would surely
have expressed himself more distinctly. He would hardly have called
Eadgyth “tori ejus consocia” (418), without some sort of qualification.
If any one should say that the Biographer’s work is dedicated to Eadgyth
herself, and that he would not enlarge to her on such a subject, he is
looking at the matter with the feelings of our own age. The age of
Eadward felt quite differently on such points. The panegyrists of Queens
like Pulcheria and Æthelthryth took care that the light of those saintly
ladies should in no case be bidden under a bushel. On the whole, I am
inclined to think that the expressions of the Biographer, looked at
critically, rather tell against the monastic theory. But such ambiguous
expressions may well contain the germ of the legend.
One or two other points may be mentioned. Eadward is said (see above, p.
524) to have made an agreement with Swend Estrithson, by which the
Danish prince was to succeed to the English Crown, “vel si filios
susceperit.” Such an agreement, or even any general belief in the
existence of such an agreement, is inconsistent with such a vow on
Eadward’s part as the monastic writers pretend. William of Malmesbury
again (ii. 228), in an unguarded moment, when he is discussing the
policy of the King and not the merits of the saint, says that Eadward
sent for the Ætheling from Hungary, “quod ipse non susceperat liberos.”
And Eadward himself, if it be Eadward who speaks in the Westminster
charters, gives as his reason for not going in person to Rome, that the
royal race would be jeoparded in his person, “maxime quod nullum habebam
filium” (Cod. Dipl. iv. 174). Such language would hardly be used if the
possibility of children had been cut off by any religious vow, formally
made and generally known. Again, if Eadward had been known to be under
such a vow, it is much less clear why Godwine should be anxious for the
marriage of Eadward and Eadgyth. The sacrifice of his daughter would be
much less intelligible, if there was no chance of its being rewarded by
the succession of a grandson of Godwine to the Crown.
We will now look to the accounts which tell the other way. As might be
expected, the earlier statements are very much less full and positive
than the later. As long as Eadward, however deeply reverenced, was still
not a canonized saint, the subject was one which might be discussed, and
different opinions might be put forth about it. After the canonization,
the slightest doubt would of course have passed for blasphemy.
Thus William of Jumièges (vii. 9) asserts the fact, but somewhat
doubtfully; “Ut inter eos [Eadward and Godwine] firmus amor jugiter
maneret, Editham filiam ejus uxorem nomine tenus duxit. Nam reverà, _ut
dicunt_, ambo perpetuam virginitatem conservaverunt.” William of
Malmesbury, who, as we have seen, elsewhere forgets the story
altogether, also asserts the fact, but he is in doubt as to the motive,
and he seems certainly to know of no vow on the part of Eadgyth. He most
likely had the words of the Biographer, “tori ejus consocia,” before him
when he wrote (ii. 197); “Nuptam sibi Rex hâc arte tractabat, ut nec
toro amoveret nec virili more cognosceret; quod an familiæ illius odio,
quod prudenter dissimulabat pro tempore, an amore castitatis fecerit,
compertum non habeo. Illud celeberrimè fertur, numquam illum cujusquam
mulieris contubernio pudicitiam læsisse.” His account of Eadgyth is
singular. She was suspected of unchastity, both during Eadward’s
lifetime and after his death; but on her death-bed she cleared herself
by a solemn and voluntary oath, seemingly without calling in the help of
compurgators. Wace again, in the Roman de Rou (9883), gives the report,
but does not seem very certain or emphatic about it;
“Feme prist la fille Gwine,
Edif out nom, bele meschine,
Maiz entrels n’orent nul enfant;
E ço alouent la gent disant,
Ke charnelment od li ne jut,
Ne charnelment ne la conut:
Mais unkes hom ne l’aparçut,
Ne mal talent entrels ne fut.”
Wace, as Prevost remarks in his note, seems hardly to have known of
Eadgyth’s disgrace, if not divorce, in 1051. The Hyde writer again, who,
whoever he was and whenever he wrote, often preserved independent
traditions, and who clearly exercised a sort of judgement of his own,
knows the tale only as a report (288); “Fertur tamen Regem Edwardum
numquam cum eâdem carnis habuisse consortium, sed mundissimæ vitæ semper
dilexisse cœlibatum.”
Here we get the story in its second stage. Eadward’s reputation for
sanctity is advancing: the fact of Eadgyth’s childlessness, and the
ambiguous expressions of the contemporary writers, are now commonly
interpreted in a particular way. Still this interpretation has not yet
become an article of faith. For the fully developed legend, setting
forth the saint in all his glory, we must go to Æthelred of Rievaux and
his followers. They of course know everything, down to the minutest
details of everybody’s thoughts and prayers. The story will be found in
Æthelred (X Scriptt. 377, 378), and it is versified at great length in
the French Life (p. 55 et seqq.). As soon as Eadward is established on
the throne, his Witan, anxious about the succession, urge him to marry.
The vow seems to be assumed. On the mention of marriage, Eadward is in a
great strait; he is afraid to refuse; at the same time he is anxious not
to violate his chastity. His prayers and meditations are given at great
length, including much talk about the not exactly apposite examples of
Joseph and Susanna. At last the difficulty is escaped by his marrying
the daughter of Godwine, of whose piety as well as beauty a wonderful
description is given. There is of course not a word about the suspicions
spoken of by William of Malmesbury, any more than there is about the
murder of Gospatric. Eadgyth happily chances to be of the same peculiar
turn as Eadward himself; so they exactly suit one another. They marry;
but they agree to live, and do live, in great mutual affection, but only
as brother and sister. A new scriptural allusion happily presents
itself, and Eadgyth is promoted to the rank of a “nova Abisac.” The
unlucky expression of the Biographer about “locus carissimæ filiæ” is of
course seized up and amplified. Eadward, on his death-bed, addresses
Eadgyth as “filia mea” (X Scriptt. 402). The Biographer (433) had made
Eadward commend Eadgyth to the care of her brother Harold, “ut pro
dominâ [hlæfdige] et sorore, ut est, fideli serves et honores obsequio.”
Æthelred either misunderstood the passage, or else flew off at the word
“soror.” He tells us (402), “Reginam deinde fratri proceribusque
commendans, ejus plurimùm laudabat obsequium, et pudicitiam prædicabat,
quæ se quidem uxorem gerebat in publico, sed sororem vel filiam in
occulto.”
It will be remembered that William of Jumièges, Wace, and the Hyde
writer, mention the story only as a report; William of Malmesbury seems
to accept the fact as undoubted, and is uncertain only as to the motive.
According to Æthelred (378), the public mind in Eadward’s own time was
in the same state as the mind of William of Malmesbury a generation or
two later. No one doubted the fact; “Ne aliquis huic Regis virtuti fidem
deroget, sciat hoc tempore illius per totam Angliam sic divulgatum et
creditum, ut de facto certi plerique de intentione certarent.” People
who—like William of Malmesbury—failed to rise to the full appreciation
of Eadward’s saintship, thought it might be because Eadward was
unwilling to raise up grandsons to the traitor Godwine. Such
rationalizing doubts are indignantly dismissed; “Quidam nihil nisi
carnem et sanguinem sapientes, _simplicitati_ regiæ [a clear hit at
William] hoc imponebat, quod compulsus generi se miscuerit proditorum,
et ne proditores procrearet, operi supersederet conjugali. Sed si
consideretur amor quo se complectebantur, facilè contemnitur talis
opinio. Hoc idcirco inserendum putavi, ut sciatur neminem tunc de Regis
continentiâ dubitâsse, quum de caussâ taliter disputaverint.” So it is
that men get better informed, the further removed they are from personal
knowledge of the events.
Having reached the perfect story in Æthelred, it is needless to carry on
the examination any further. I will only add that some specially
eloquent talk on the subject will be found in the Ramsey History, cap.
cxx. (p. 461), and that in Æthelred (377) we first find the line which
has become more famous through the false Ingulf, “Sicut spina rosam
genuit Godwinus Edivam.”
NOTE C. p. 29.
EADWARD’S FONDNESS FOR FOREIGN CHURCHMEN.
I may here quote a curious story about the relations between Eadward and
Eadgyth and a foreign Abbot, which I cannot do better than give in the
original Latin. The hero of the tale was Abbot of the famous monastery
of Saint Riquier in Picardy. The church is a splendid one, but of late
date; not far off is the municipal _beffroi_, to which the inhabitants
still point with pride as the memorial of struggles waged with, and
victories gained over, their ecclesiastical lords.
“Regi Anglorum Hetguardo Gervinus semper carus et venerabilis fuit, et
ab illo, si ejus fines intrâsset, mirâ honorificentia attollebatur.
Quique Rex, si eum in aliquâ vel pro aliquâ loci nostri necessitate
angustiari comperisset, munificus valdè in succurrendo, remotâ omni
excusatione, exsistebat. Regina etiam conjux ejusdem, nomine Edith,
satis superque Gervinum pro suæ merito sanctitatis diligebat et
venerabatur, et juxta mariti exemplum admodùm liberalis, si aliqua
petiisset, libens conferebat. Quâdam vero vice accidit ut Abbati
nuperrimè terram illam ingresso osculum salutationis et pacis Regina
porrigeret, quod ille gratiâ conservandæ sinceritatis abhorrens excipere
noluit. At illa ferox, videns se Reginam spretam à monacho, nimis
molestè tulit, et quædam quæ, ut pro se orâsset, illi donare statuerat,
irata retraxit. Verûm, marito id ipsum increpante, quod Abbatem tam
religiosum pro non infracto rigore odio insequi voluisset, et aliis
honestis viris suggerentibus non esse odiendum hominem qui sic Deo se
mancipâsset, ut ne Reginæ quidem osculo se pateretur contra ordinem
mulceri, placata est Regina, et hujusmodi factum non solum in illo non
vituperavit, sed magnæ laudis attollens præconio, in sui regni Episcopis
vel Abbatibus talem manere consuetudinem deinceps conquesta est. Multis
ergo honoribus et donis eum fulciens remittebat onustum, hoc solum ab eo
reposcens ut tempore orationis inter benefactores computari mereretur.
Uxor etiam ipsius Regis donavit ei amictum valdè pretiosum, auro et
lapide pretioso mirificè decoratum, quem Abbas detulit in nostræ
ecclesiæ thesaurum.” Chron. Centulense, iv. 22. ap. D’Achery, ii. 345.
This story is referred to, but inaccurately, in Mr. Thorpe’s Lappenberg,
ii. 244. There is no mention of it in the original, p. 504.
Saint Riquier however does not appear to have held lands in England in
Eadward’s time, but this was not the last begging expedition of Gervinus
to our shores. On the gifts of Eadward and Eadgyth to Saint Denis,
Fécamp, and other monasteries, see Ellis, i. 304, 307, 324. Cod. Dipl.
iv. 229. cf. 251.
Another reference to Eadward’s lavishness in this way is found in the
Chronicle of Saint Wandrille in the same volume of D’Achery (ii. 286);
“Uxorem quoque filiam Hotuvini [sic] magni illius terræ principis, qui
fratrem suum Alureth jampridem cum multis crudeliter atque dolo
peremerat, accepit, eosque quos secum de Nortmannis duxerat utriusque
ordinis amplis honoribus extulit, auro et argento ditavit.”
NOTE D. p. 31.
ENGLISH AND NORMAN ESTIMATES OF GODWINE AND HAROLD.
There is a remarkable passage of William of Malmesbury, in which, as his
manner often is, he sets before his readers two different accounts or
opinions of the same thing. He there contrasts the Norman and English
accounts of Godwine and his sons, in words which seem, like several
other passages, to show that he had the contemporary Biographer before
him. His words (ii. 197) are;
“Hunc [Archbishop Robert] cum reliquis Angli moderni vituperant
delatorem Godwini et filiorum ejus, hunc discordiæ seminatorem, hunc
archiepiscopii emptorem; Godwinum et natos magnanimos viros, et
industrios auctores et tutores regni Edwardi; non mirum si succensuerint
quod novos homines et advenas sibi præferri viderent; numquam tamen
contra Regem, quem semel fastigaverint, asperum etiam verbum loquutos.
Contra, Normanni sic se defensitant, ut dicant et cum et filios magnâ
arrogantiâ et infidelitate in Regem et in familiares ejus egisse, æquas
sibi partes in imperio vindicantes; sæpe de ejus simplicitate solitos
nugari, sæpe insignes facetias in illum jaculari: id Normannos perpeti
nequivisse, quin illorum potentiam quantùm possent enervarent.”
In this passage William very fairly carries out his promise of letting
each side tell its own story. Which of the two pictures is borne out by
particular facts, we shall see at the proper stages of the history; it
may not be amiss to collect here a few of the more general pictures of
Godwine and Harold drawn according to the two models. In the case of
Harold, I confine myself to those passages, whether panegyrics or
invectives, which concern his general character and his administration
as Earl. Those which concern either his relations to William or his
character as King I reserve for notice at a later stage.
Of Godwine personally none of the Chronicles give any formal character,
but the Worcester Chronicler (1052) gives a picture of the power of
himself and house, setting forth their influence as strongly as any of
the Norman writers, but with an exactly opposite colouring. “Forðam þe
he [Godwine] wæs ær to þam swyðe up ahafen, swyce he weolde þæs Cynges
and ealles Englalandes, and his sunan wæron Eorlas _and þæs Cynges
dyrlingas_, and his dohtor þæm Cynge bewedden and beæwnod.” Of Harold
both the Abingdon and the Worcester Chroniclers give a panegyric in the
poem on Eadward which they insert in the year 1065. He is there, as if
in direct answer to the Norman account, warmly praised for his strict
loyalty to the King.
“And se froda swa þeah
Befæste þæt rice
Heahþungenum menn
Harolde sylfum
Æþelum Eorle;
Se in ealle tid
Hyrde holdlice
Hærran sinum,
Wordum and dædum,
Wihte ne agælde
Þæs þe þearf wæs
Þæs þeodkyninges.”
Florence gives no character of Godwine; of Harold—“strenuus Dux
Haroldus”—he always speaks with evident affection, but his formal
panegyric, and a magnificent one it is, he keeps back till Harold’s
election to the Crown.
The Biographer’s description of Godwine I have had occasion to refer to
at vol. i. 450. Of Harold he gives a most elaborate portrait, of which I
have made great use in the text. I spare the reader this writer’s
poetical panegyrics, except when they illustrate some special point: but
I will quote one or two passages which compare the father and the son in
a general sort of way. Godwine, he tells us, on his appointment as Earl
of the West-Saxons (see vol. i. p. 469),
“Adeptus tanti honoris primatum non se extulit, sed omnibus bonis se pro
posse patrem præbuit: quia quam à puero addidicerat mentis mansuetudinem
non exuit; verùm hanc, ut naturaliter sibi indita, erga subditos et
inter pares æternâ assiduitate excoluit. Undecumque emergerent injuriæ,
in hoc jus et lex imprompta recuperabatur. Unde non pro domino
habebatur, sed à cunctis patriæ filiis pro patre colebatur. Nati sunt
ergo filii et filiæ tanto patri non degeneres, sed paternâ et maternâ
probitate insignes, in quibus nutriendis studiosiùs his artibus agitur,
quibus futuro regno munimen pariter et juvamen in his paratur.” (392,
393.)
So, in p. 408, on describing the death of Godwine and the accession of
Harold to his Earldom, he says;
“Haroldus ... amicus gentis suæ et patriæ vices celebrat patris
intentiùs, et ejusdem gressibus incedit, patientiâ scilicet et
misericordiâ, et affabilitate cum benè volentibus. Porrò inquietatis,
furibus, sive prædonibus, leonino terrore et vultu minabatur gladiator
justus.”
The Waltham winters are of course Harold’s sworn panegyrists; their
testimony must therefore be taken with caution, though certainly not
with more caution than the testimony of Harold’s calumniators, the sworn
panegyrists of William. I forbear to enlarge on the “Vita Haroldi,”
where the hero of the piece figures as “vir venerabilis,” “vir Dei,” and
so forth. These epithets of course refer far more to Harold’s imaginary
penance and seclusion as a hermit than they do to his real merits as
Earl and as King. I will quote this romantic writer only for one
passage, in which he is plunged into difficulties by the calumnious
accounts of Godwine and his family, which in his time were generally
received. Godwine, according to him, began to practise deceit only as
far as was needful for his own safety in troublous times; corrupted by
this dangerous familiarity with crime, he gradually grew into actual
treason. But admiration of Harold, combined with at least partial
censure of Godwine, is not peculiar to this romancer. It is the position
of the Abingdon Chronicler.
The account of Godwine given by Harold’s biographer runs thus;
“Constat ipsius [Haroldi] genitorem vel cæterorum quosdam de illius
genere, tantum proditionis, tantum et aliorum notâ facinorum infamatos
gravitèr fuisse. His vero malis, necessitate cavendi imminentis exitii,
Godwinus se primò immiscuit, deinde ulteriùs evagatur. Tuendæ siquidem
salutis obtentu dolum tentare compulsus, dum semel cedit ad votum,
fraudibus in posterum minuendæ felicitatis intuitu licentiùs nitebatur.”
(Chroniques Anglo-Normandes, ii. 152.)
He then tells the story, which I have mentioned in vol. i. p. 467, about
the way in which Godwine obtained Gytha in marriage. He then goes on;
“Quo tamen eventu Godwinus in Dacorum plusquam satis favorem effusus,
gentis suæ quampluribus fiebat infestus; nonnullos quoque de semine
regio, quorum unus frater sancti Edwardi fuit, dolo perdidit; sicque non
modò in concives, immo et in dominos naturales [cyne-hlafordas] non
pauca deliquit” (154).
He then winds up by rebuking those who turned the crimes of Godwine to
the discredit of Harold. Harold here, not Eadgyth, is the rose sprung
from the thorn; “Sic rutilos producit, sic niveos quasi nutrit rosarum
liliorumque spina flores” (155).
This writer’s notion of Godwine favouring the Danes against the English
is found also in the Roman de Rou (9809). He is telling the story of
Ælfred (see vol. i. p. 544);
“Cuntre li vint Quens Gwine,
Ki mult esteit de pute orine;
Feme out de Danemarche née,
De Daneiz bien emparentée,
Filz out Héraut, Guert, è Tosti.
Pur li enfez ke jo vus di,
Ki de Daneiz esteient né,
E de Daneiz erent amé,
Ama Gwine li Daneiz
Mult mielx k’il ne fist li Engleiz.
Oez cum fu fete déablie,
Grant traïsun, grant félunie:
Traistre fu, traïsun fist,
Ki en la lei Judas se mist.”
To return to the Waltham writers, the witness of the writer “De
Inventione” is worth infinitely more than that of Harold’s biographer.
The affectionate tribute which he pays to Harold is clearly something
more than mere conventional panegyric on a founder. Harold was chosen
King, “quia non erat eo prudentior in terrâ, armis strenuus magis, legum
terræ sagacior, in omni genere probitatis cultior” (p. 25 Stubbs). At
his death (27) the lament is, “Cadit Rex ab hoste fero, gloria regni,
decus cleri, fortitudo militiæ, inermium clipeus, certantium firmitas,
tutamen debilium, consolatio desolatorum, indigentium reparator,
procerum gemma.”
Such were the great father and son as they seemed in the eyes of
Englishmen of their own times and in the eyes of those who in after
times cherished purely English traditions. Let us see how they appeared
to the Norman writers of their own day, and to those who follow that
Norman tradition which permanently triumphed. It would be easy to
prolong the list indefinitely, but I think it needless to refer to any
but writers of the eleventh and twelfth centuries. On the whole, they
are more fierce against Godwine than against Harold. They allow Godwine
hardly any excellence beyond mere power of speech, while several of them
are quite ready to do justice to Harold’s great qualities in other
respects, even while they condemn his supposed perjury and usurpation.
The first however, and, in some respects, the most important, William of
Poitiers, the immediate follower and laureate of the Conqueror, has not
the slightest mercy for either father or son. He stops twice in the
course of his history to apostrophize, first Godwine (p. 79 Giles) and
then Harold (p. 111), in terms of virulent abuse, the declamation in the
latter case being brought in with the formula, “Paucis igitur de
affabimur, Heralde.” But these addresses contain nothing but the old
stories about the death of Ælfred and the oath to William. Elsewhere
(126) the Lexovian Archdeacon gives his general character of Harold,
describing him as “luxuriâ fœdum, truculentum homicidam, divite rapinâ
superbum, adversarium æqui et boni.” “Truculentus homicida,” as appears
from the context, means “victor at Stamfordbridge;” “luxuriâ fœdus” may
possibly mean “lover of Eadgyth Swanneshals.”
William of Jumièges writes of Godwine in the same strain as William of
Poitiers. Harold is of course usurper, perjurer, and so forth, but there
is no such set abuse of him as we find in the Gesta Guillelmi. Of
Godwine he writes (vii. 9);
“Ferox dolique commentor Godvinus eo tempore Comes in Angliâ
potentissimus erat, et magnam regni Anglorum partem fortiter tenebat,
quam ex parentum nobilitate [a contrast to the description in Wace] seu
vi vel fraudulentiâ vendicaverat. Edwardus itaque metuens tanti viri
potentiâ lædi dolove solito, Normannorum consultu, quorum fido vigebat
solatio, indignam Aluredi fratris sui perniciem ei benignitèr indulsit.”
Other writers on the same side are more generous, at any rate towards
Harold. Orderic, as usual, fluctuates between his two characters of born
Englishman and Norman monk. In his Norman monastery he had been taught
that Harold was a wicked usurper, and he speaks of him accordingly. But
natural admiration for an illustrious countryman makes him, once at
least, burst his trammels, and he ventures to say (492 B); “Erat idem
Anglus magnitudine et elegantiâ, viribusque corporis animique audaciâ,
et linguæ facundiâ, multisque facetiisque et probitatibus admirabilis.”
One can almost forgive him when he adds, “Sed quid ei tanta dona sine
fide, quæ bonorum omnium fundamentum est, contulerunt?”
In the like spirit Benoît de Sainte-More, though denouncing Harold
(Chroniques Anglo-Normandes, i. 174) as “Parjur, faus, pleins de
coveitise,” yet elsewhere (i. 193) gives him this generous tribute;
“Proz ert Heraut e vertuos,
E empernanz e corajos.
N’estoveit pas en nule terre
Sos ciel meillor chevaler querre.
Beaus estait trop e bons parlers,
Donierre e larges viandiers.”
The series of English writers under Norman influence may be said to
begin with Henry of Huntingdon. It is strange that one who has preserved
so much of old English tradition should be so absolutely without English
feeling in the great controversy of all. We have already (vol. i. p.
543) seen some specimens of his way of dealing with Godwine. As for
Harold, he tells the legend of his quarrel with Tostig, of which I shall
speak elsewhere, and goes on (M. H. B. 761 B); “Tantæ namque sævitiæ
fratres illi erant, quod quum alicujus nitidam villam conspicerent,
dominatorem de nocte interfici juberent totamque progeniem illius,
possessionemque defuncti obtinerent; et isti quidem justitiarii erant
regni.” This is somewhat expanded by Roger of Wendover—to quote an
author rather later than the limit which I had laid down. All the sons
of Godwine, Wulfnoth perhaps included, were partakers in these evil
deeds (“Tantæ namque iniquitatis omnes filii Godwini proditoris erant.”
i. 508), and Henry’s last clause is expanded into, “qui tamen, super tot
flagitia, Regis simplicitatem ita circumvenerunt, quod ipsos regni
justitiarios constituerit et rectores.” What was the exact notion of
“justitiarii” in the minds of Henry and Roger?
Eadward’s own special panegyrist, Æthelred of Rievaux, is hardly so
bitter against Harold as might have been looked for. Of course he speaks
of his accession in the usual fashion, and he tells the legend of his
enmity with Tostig. Of Godwine he gives (X Scriptt. 377) the following
picture, which is at least valuable as witnessing to the still abiding
memory of Godwine’s power of speech;
“Erat inter potentes Angliæ omnium potentissimus Comes Godwinus, vir
magnarum opum sed astutiæ singularis, Regum regnique proditor, qui,
doctus fallere et quælibet dissimulare consuetus, facilè populum ad
cujuslibet factionis inclinabat assensum.”
I will now turn to two or three writers who are neither English nor
Norman. The biographer of Olaf Tryggwesson seems to stand alone in
wishing to make a saint of Harold (“Haraldur Gudina son, er sumir kalla
helgan vera.” p. 263). This is remarkable, for, though he mentions, as
we shall hereafter see, the tale that Harold was not killed on the field
at Senlac, he seems to know nothing of his penitence and hermit life.
But other Scandinavian and German writers seem quite to take the Norman
view of things. Thus Adam of Bremen (iii. 13) says of the sons of
Godwine, “Tenuerunt Angliam in ditione suâ, Eduardo tantùm vitâ et inani
Regis nomine contento.” So also his Scholiast, “Harold ... ipsum
cognatum et dominum suum, Regem Eduardum pro nihilo habuit.” Elsewhere
(iii. 51) he calls Harold “vir maleficus.” Saxo, of whose ideas I have
already given some specimens (see vol. i. p. 592), is more violent
against Harold than any one else. Having told his wonderful tale about
the slaughter of the Danes after the death of Harthacnut, he goes on (p.
203);
“Igitur Haraldus, Danicæ oppressionis simulque domesticæ libertatis
auctor, Edvardo summam, factâ non animi ejus sed sanguinis æstimatione,
permittit, quatenus ille nominis, ipse rerum usurpatione regnaret, et
quo nobilitate pervenire non posset, potentiâ vallatus assurgeret.
Edvardus vero, solâ generis auctoritate non prudentiæ ratione munitus,
vano majestatis obtentu pravorum ingenia majorumque petulantiam
nutriebat, titulo Rex patriæ, conditione miserabilis procerum verna,
contentus quod alii fructum, ipse umbram tantùm ac speciem occupâsset.
Ità Anglorum inter se summam nomen atque potentiam diviserunt, titulique
jus ac rerum dominium veluti diversis ab invicem gradibus differebant.”
He then goes on with his wild tale, which I have had occasion to mention
already (see p. 413), about Harold killing Eadward. Elsewhere (p. 207)
he uses the words “Haraldus, cui scelera Mali cognomen adjecerant,” in
which it is not very clear whether he means our Harold or Harold
Hardrada.
Snorro gives no portrait of Harold, and his genealogy, as we shall see,
is utterly confused. But he gives a picture of Harold’s relations to
Eadward which is at least widely different from that of Saxo. He makes
him the King’s favourite and foster son (“Hann fæddiz upp í hird,
Játvardar Konungs, oc var hans fóstr son, oc unni Konungr honöm geysi
mikit, oc hafdi hann fyrir son ser; þvíat Konúngrinn átti eigi barn.”
Johnstone, 189. Laing, iii. 75).
I leave it to the reader to judge which description, either of father or
son, is better borne out by the facts of the history. I will only add
that, in this case also, calumny, as usual, preserves a certain
propriety. Godwine was a crafty, and not always scrupulous, statesman;
Harold was a hero. The calumnies levelled at each are such as would
naturally be levelled at a crafty statesman and a hero respectively.
NOTE E. p. 32.
THE ALLEGED SPOLIATIONS OF THE CHURCH BY GODWINE AND HAROLD.
The charge of sacrilege, of spoliation of churches and monasteries, is
one which Godwine and Harold share with almost every powerful man of
those times. William of Malmesbury speaks of it as a characteristic of
the reign of Eadward; only he adds that the King’s panegyrists
attributed this, along with the other evils of the time, to Godwine and
his sons. According to them, it was for these crimes of one sort or
another that Eadward banished the whole family. The whole passage (ii.
196) is curious;
“Fuerunt tamen nonnulla quæ gloriam temporum deturpârunt; _monasteria
tunc monachis viduata_; prava judicia à perversis hominibus commissa....
Sed harum rerum invidiam amatores ipsius ità extenuare conantur;
_monasteriorum destructio_, perversitas judiciorum, non ejus scientiâ,
sed per Godwini filiorumque ejus sunt commissa violentiam, qui Regis
ridebant indulgentiam; postea tamen ad eum delata, acritèr illorum
exsilio vindicata.”
This is of course Norman talk, and we know very well what to think of
the “perversitas judiciorum.” But for the charge of destruction of
monasteries there is undoubtedly a groundwork of fact, and it will be
worth while to go through the evidence on which Godwine and his sons are
charged with this and other acts of sacrilege. On this evidence I have
two general comments to make.
First, In estimating charges of this sort we must remember that we
commonly hear one side only. The works of Ealdorman Æthelweard and Count
Fulk form so small a portion of our authorities that we may say that the
whole history of these times was written exclusively by churchmen. And
those churchmen were far more commonly monks than seculars. The monks of
course tell the story their own way, and we do not often get the
layman’s answer. A legal claim against a monastery or other
ecclesiastical body runs a very fair chance of being represented as a
fraudulent or violent occupation. And Domesday is hardly an impartial
witness for a charge against Harold. If he acquired lands by as good a
title as he acquired the Crown, the Norman writers would, if they had
the least excuse, speak of their acquisition in the same way in which
they speak of his acquisition of the Crown.
Secondly, It was a very common thing for the reeves or other officers of
powerful men to deal very freely with both monastic and other lands that
came in their way. This they sometimes did without the knowledge of
their masters. Thus Heming, in the Worcester Cartulary (p. 391), reckons
three classes of “maligni homines” who unjustly deprived the Church of
Worcester of its possessions. First come the “Dani hanc patriam
invadentes;” secondly, after them (“postea”), are the “injusti præpositi
et regii exactores;” lastly, in his own day (“istis temporibus”) come
the “violenti Normanni.” Sir Henry Ellis (ii. 142) has collected a
number of instances of spoliation by underlings, of one of which, the
story about Christ Church and Harold Harefoot, I have already spoken
(see vol. i. p. 562). Some of these I shall have to mention again.
Now we shall come across distinct evidence that some of the charges
against Godwine and Harold come under one or other of these heads. And
in estimating other charges of the kind against Godwine, Harold, or
anybody else, we should always bear in mind that we are hearing one side
only, and that it is quite probable that an equally good defence might
be forthcoming. The charge of sacrilege is brought against Godwine in
the one English Chronicle which may be called in some degree hostile to
him. The Abingdon Chronicle (1052) recording his death, adds, “Ac he
dyde ealles to lytle dædbote of þære Godes are þe he hæfde of manegum
halgum stowum.” But even this must be read with the same qualification.
The general picture of destruction of monasteries mentioned by William
of Malmesbury sounds strange at a time when so many monasteries were
being founded and endowed and their churches being rebuilt. I conceive
that it rests mainly on two remarkable cases, those of the Abbeys of
Berkeley and Leominster, which seem to have got confounded together in
legendary history. I trust that I have shown elsewhere that Leominster
Abbey was dissolved after the affair of Swegen and Eadgifu in 1046 (see
above, p. 89). I conceive it to be a legendary version of this story
when Walter Map (De Nugis Curialium, p. 201, ed. Wright) tells a tale of
the destruction of Berkeley nunnery, how Godwine sets a handsome nephew
to seduce the nuns, how he then complains to the King of their
misconduct, how he procures the dissolution of the house and the grant
of its possessions to himself. It is certain that there was a real
suppression of a monastery at Berkeley, and that Godwine profited by it
in some way or other. As in Domesday we find Leominster in the hands of
the Lady Eadgyth, with only a most incidental mention of the nuns, so we
find Berkeley (163) in the hands of the King, without any mention of
monks or nuns, or of Godwine either. But that there had been a monastery
at Berkeley appears from a variety of evidence. See Cod. Dipl. i. 276.
ii. 111. Flor. Wig. 805, 915, in the former of which years we find an
Abbess, Ceolburh by name, presiding over the house, while in the latter
it was governed by an Abbot, Æthelhun. But, as Professor Stubbs has
shown in the Archæological Journal, vol. xix. (1862), p. 248, the
existence of an Abbess does not necessarily imply the presence of nuns,
as many monasteries seem to have had either Abbots or Abbesses, as
suited family convenience. There is also mention of nuns at Berkeley at
a time later than Godwine, in a charter of Adeliza, Queen of Henry the
First (Monasticon, iv. 42, and vi. 1618), and in the Pipe Roll of 31
Hen. I. (ed. Hunter, p. 133; “investitura iii. monialium, lx._s._” For
this last reference I have to thank Professor Stubbs). By the Charter of
Adeliza the Church of Berkeley, with the “Prebends of two nuns,” was
granted to the new Abbey of Reading, by which the church was afterwards
transferred to Saint Augustine’s at Bristol (Smyth’s Lives of the
Berkeleys, p. 49). But the whole account of these later nuns of Berkeley
is very obscure, and whatever they were, they must have been a revival
of the old foundation later than the time of Godwine. For the
destruction of the monastery at Berkeley, and Godwine’s share in it, are
undoubted facts, though we are left without any explanation as to their
causes. A most remarkable entry in Domesday (164) tells us that, when
Godwine was at Berkeley, his wife Gytha refused to eat anything which
came out of that lordship, because of a pious scruple arising out of the
destruction of the Abbey. Godwine therefore bought of Azor, a man of
whom we often hear, the lordship of Woodchester (a place near Stroud,
noted for its Roman remains), for her maintenance when in
Gloucestershire (“Gueda mater Heraldi Comitis tenuit Udecestre. Godwinus
Comes emit ab Azor, et dedit suæ uxori, ut inde viveret, donec ad
Berchelai maneret. Nolebat enim de ipso manerio aliquid comedere,
propter destructionem Abbatiæ.” We have no further account, except the
evidently mythical tale told by Walter Map. It is by no means clear
whether there were or were not any nuns at Berkeley in Godwine’s time,
and probably no one would accept Walter Map’s tale as it stands. But
that tale may very likely be a romantic improvement of the story of
Swegen and Eadgifu, transferred from Leominster to Berkeley. Both
Leominster and Berkeley were monasteries suppressed in the reign of
Eadward. Godwine or his family were concerned in, or profited by, the
suppression of both. Both were restored, in one shape or another, in
later ways; both became connected with the Abbey of Reading. To
substitute one name for the other was one of the most obvious of
confusions. The details of the story of course grew, like the details of
other stories. Berkeley Abbey, at all events, was suppressed, and
Godwine had a power of disposing of its revenues. Here then we have one
clear case in which Godwine was concerned in the destruction of a
monastery. We do not know whether he had any justification to offer for
his conduct, but we know that it was not approved by his own wife.
It appears also that Godwine was charged by the Norman Archbishop Robert
with converting some lands belonging to the see of Canterbury to his own
use. Here however we for once get the Godwinist version. The lands of
the Earl and the Archbishop joined, and there was a dispute about
boundaries. We cannot, at this distance of time, say in whose favour a
jury would have decided; but it is plain that Robert claimed lands of
which Godwine was in actual possession, and that Godwine’s friends
looked upon the Archbishop and not the Earl as the intruder. This is a
very important case, from our having the tale told from the side of the
layman. It is a case which by itself would be enough to make us always
weigh the possibility that there may have been another side to many
other cases in which we get only the churchman’s statement. It is
impossible for us now to tell on whose side the legal right lay in the
dispute between Godwine and Robert; but there is every appearance that
it was simply a question for a legal tribunal, one in which each side
may well have urged its claims in good faith. The story, as told by the
Biographer of Eadward (p. 400), runs as follows;
“Accedebat autem ad exercendos odiorum motus pro Episcopo in caussam
justam quod terræ quædam Ducis contiguæ erant quibusdam terris quæ ad
Christi attinebant Ecclesiam [that is, Christ Church, Canterbury].
Crebræ quoque erant inter eos controversiæ, quod eum dicebat terras
archiepiscopatûs sui invasisse, et in injuriâ suâ usibus suis eas
tenere. Ferebat autem idem industrius Dux incautiùs furentem Episcopum
pacificè.... Coquebat tamen vehementiùs quosdam suorum illa Ducis
injuria, et nisi ejus obstiterit prohibitio, gravi Episcopum persæpe
multâssent contumeliâ.”
In this last clause we seem to see the over-zealous officers, of whom we
hear in other stories, and whom Godwine so characteristically keeps in
order.
These are, as far as I know, the only particular cases in which it is
possible to test the value of the general remark made by the Abingdon
Chronicler as to Godwine’s occupations of Church property. In the case
of Berkeley we can say absolutely nothing either way, except so far as
Gytha’s scruple may be held to tell against her husband. In the Kentish
case Godwine may well have had a perfectly good defence. The charges
against Harold are more numerous. They rest mainly on certain entries in
Domesday, which have been carefully collected by Sir Henry Ellis (i.
313). Harold is there said to have taken, or to have held unjustly,
various pieces of ecclesiastical property, and in most cases it is
carefully noted that William caused them to be restored by some legal
process. Thus, in Sussex (21 _b_) we find a virgate of land at Apedroc
which Harold “habuit et abstulit à Sancto Johanne.” This seems not to
have been restored; it had become a chief dwelling-place of William’s
half-brother Earl Robert (“ubi Comes habet aulam suam”), and Robert was
to be as much preferred to Saint John, as Saint John was to be preferred
to Harold. In Wiltshire (69), at Allington, were four hides “quas
injustè abstraxit Heraldus ab ecclesiâ Ambresberie testimonio tainorum
sciræ.” Three lordships in Dorset (75 _b_, 78 _b_) are said to have been
taken by Harold (“abstulerat Heraldus Comes”) from Shaftesbury Abbey,
and to have been restored by William on the evidence of a charter of
Eadward (“Willelmus Rex eam fecit resaisiri, quia in ipsâ ecclesiâ
inventus est brevis cum sigillo Regis Eadwardi præcipiens ut ecclesiæ
restituerentur”). So in Cornwall (121) an estate is in like manner
restored to Saint Petroc’s. One in Hertfordshire (132) helps us to a
date; “Heraldus Comes abstulit inde, ut tota syra testatur, et apposuit
in Hiz manerio suo, tribus annis ante mortem Regis Eadwardi (1063).”
Another entry, in nearly the same words, but without a date, follows in
fol. 133. There are two others in which we see the agency of the reeves
or other officers. In Dorset (80) we find that “Elnod tenuit T. R. E.
per Comitem Heraldum, qui eam abstulit cuidam clerico.” So in Kent (2),
“Alnod cild per violentiam Heraldi abstulit Sancto Martino Merclesham et
Hauochesten, _pro quibus dedit Canonicis iniquam commutationem_.” This
last entry is important. The act, though called “violentia,” was really
an exchange, and the spirit of these entries in Domesday is so clear
that we can hardly venture to say that it may not have been a fair and
legal exchange.
There is also a whole string of entries in Herefordshire (181 _b_, 182),
where it is said, “Hoc manerium tenuit Heraldus Comes injustè. Rex
Willelmus reddidit Walterio Episcopo.” These must be taken in connexion
with two writs addressed by Eadward to Harold in Herefordshire. One
(Cod. Dipl. iv. 218) is addressed to him jointly with Bishop Ealdred,
and therefore belongs to the time (1058–1060) when Ealdred administered
the see after the death of Leofgar (see above, p. 398). This writ
confirms to the Priests of Saint Æthelberht’s minster all their ancient
rights, it speaks of them as suffering poverty “for God’s love and
mine,” and calls on all men to help them. The other (iv. 194), addressed
to Harold together with Osbern (see above, p. 346), announces the
appointment of Walter to the Bishoprick (in 1060), and requires the
restoration of all property alienated from the see. The earlier
description of the poverty of the Canons can hardly fail to refer to
losses sustained through the ravages of Ælfgar and Gruffydd in 1055 (see
above, pp. 388, 391).
There is also a will of Leofric, Bishop of Exeter (Cod. Dipl. iv. 274),
in which that Prelate leaves to his Church the land which Harold had
lawlessly taken at Topsham (“ðæt land æt Toppeshamme, ðe áh ðe Harold
hit mid unlage útnam”). The Bishop died in 1072, but the land had not
then been recovered. Topsham appears in the Exon Domesday (p. 87) as a
possession of the Crown formerly held by Harold, without any mention of
the rights of the Church of Exeter.
The reader must judge how far any of the qualifications with which I set
out can be made to bear on any of these cases. What if the land at
Topsham, afterwards the port of Exeter, was needed for the defence of
the coast? The Bishop would very likely look on its appropriation for
such a purpose, even if it were paid for, as a thing done “mid unlage.”
There remains the great story of the alleged quarrel between Harold and
Gisa, Bishop of Wells. Of this we know the details, we can trace the
growth of misrepresentation, and it may perhaps serve as a key to some
of the other stories. Even here we have no statement on Harold’s side,
but the original charge against him, as contrasted with its later
shapes, pretty well explains itself. The story however is a somewhat
long one, and it may moreover fairly count as a part of the general
history. I shall therefore keep back its consideration till its proper
chronological place in the narrative, when I shall make it the subject
of a distinct note. I will now add a few instances which illustrate the
general subject by showing that Godwine and Harold by no means stand
alone in bearing accusations of this sort. In the case of nearly every
powerful man, including the most munificent benefactors to
ecclesiastical bodies, we find the same story of the detention of Church
property in some shape or other, or of transactions in which it is easy
to see the possible groundwork of such a charge.
I mentioned in a former Chapter (i. 289) that the very model of monastic
benefactors, Æthelwine the Friend of God, laid claim to, and made good
his claim to, certain lands possessed by the Abbey of Ely. As the Ely
historian (Hist. El. i. 5) himself tells the story, it is plain that the
claim made by the Ealdorman was certainly legal and probably just. Yet
the monastic writer clearly thinks that he ought to have given way even
to an unjust claim on the part of the Church, and he uses just the same
language which Domesday applies to Harold; “postpositâ Sanctæ Ecclesiæ
reverentiâ, eamdem terram invadentes sibi vindicârunt.” Soon after (c.
8) we come to a story of the same kind about Æthelwine’s son Ælfwold.
Godwine of Lindesey, one of the heroes of Assandun, is spoken of as a
pertinacious enemy of the Church of Evesham (see vol. i. p. 568). The
story about Harold Harefoot I have mentioned more than once. The passage
which I quoted from William of Malmesbury at the beginning of this note
also shows that Saint Eadward himself was by some people personally
blamed for the destruction of monasteries in his reign. And it is, at
any rate, clear that the estates of the dissolved houses of Leominster
and Berkeley had become royal property—more legally _folkland_—just as
they would have done in the time of Henry the Eighth. Eadgyth, the rose
sprung from the thorn, enjoyed the revenues of Leominster, seemingly
without any of the scruples which her mother felt in the case of
Berkeley. We find her also (see above, p. 46) engaged in some other
transactions about ecclesiastical property, which look at least as
doubtful as anything attributed to her father and brother. Nay, one
writer goes so far as to charge her sainted husband himself with
complicity in her doings of this kind. Twice does the Peterborough
historian (Hugo Candidus, Sparke, p. 42) say of possessions held or
claimed by that monastery, “Rex et Regina Edgita illam villam vi auferre
conati sunt.” So one of the charges brought against Tostig, the
benefactor of the Church of Durham (see p. 383), was that he had “robbed
God” (see p. 481). Siward also, the founder of Galmanho, and his son
Waltheof, who, as a monastic hero, ranks by the side of Æthelwine, both
stand charged with detaining lands belonging to the Abbey of
Peterborough (see above, p. 374). Eadwine, the brother of Leofric,
possessed lands claimed by the Church of Worcester, and the local writer
Heming (p. 278) evidently looked on his death at Rhyd-y-Groes as the
punishment; “Sed ipse diu hâc rapinâ gavisus non est. Nam ipse non multo
post a Grifino Rege Brittonum ignominiosâ morte peremptus est.” Nay,
Leofric and Godgifu themselves, the models of all perfection, do not
seem to have been quite clear on this score. Her reverence for Saint
Wulfstan led Godgifu to suggest to her husband the restoration of
certain lordships in his possession which had belonged to the Church of
Worcester (“Terras quas antea Dani cæterique Dei adversarii vi
abstulerant, et ab ipsâ Wigornensi ecclesiâ penitùs alienaverant.”
Heming in Ang. Sacr. i. 541). Her son Ælfgar followed her example. There
is also in Domesday (283 _b_) a most curious entry about certain lands
at Alveston in Warwickshire. They are inserted among the estates of the
Church of Worcester; but it is said of the sons of the former tenant
Bricstuinus (Brihtstán?); “Hoc testantur filii ejus Lewinus [Leofwine],
Edmar [Eadmer] et alii quatuor, sed nesciunt de quo, an de Ecclesiâ an
de Comite Leuric [Leofric], cui serviebat, hanc terram tenuit. Dicunt
tamen quod ipsi tenuerunt eam de L. Comite, et quò volebant cum terrâ
poterant se vertere.” Here we may discern a case of free commendation,
whether to the Church or to the Earl, but here are also ample materials
for a charge against Leofric of detaining the lands of the Church of
Worcester. Lastly, I may mention cases in which Prelates like Bishop
Ælfweard (p. 69) and Archbishop Ealdred (p. 467) stand charged with
wrongfully transferring property from one church to another. These last
cases, if they can be made out, seem to an impartial eye just as bad as
the occupation of Church lands by laymen. The breach of law is equal,
and when a Prelate, as Ealdred is said to have done, robbed the church
which he was leaving in favour of the church of which he was taking
possession, the personal greediness is equal. In fact, in all these
cases, the real crime lies in the breach of law which is implied in the
violent or fraudulent occupation of anything, whether the party wronged
be clerk or layman, individual or corporation. We must be on our guard
alike against the exaggerated notions about the crime of sacrilege put
forth by ecclesiastical writers, and also against the opposite
prejudices of some moderns, who sometimes talk as if the robbing of a
monastery were actually a praiseworthy deed.
On the whole, considering all the instances, we shall perhaps see reason
to think that all charges of this kind, charges in which we can very
seldom hear both sides, must be taken with great doubt and
qualification. On the other hand it is plain that the tenure of Church
property, perhaps of all property, was in those rough days very
uncertain. Men, we may well believe, often gave with one hand and took
with the other. No one did this more systematically than the Great
William himself. I will end this long note with the comments of his
namesake of Malmesbury on William’s doings in this respect, comments
which seem to have been equally applicable to many others among the
great men of his age;
“Ita ejus tempore ultro citroque cœnobialis grex excrevit, monasteria
surgebant, religione vetera, ædificiis recentia. Sed hìc animadverto
mussitationem dicentium, melius fuisse ut antiqua in suo statu
conservarentur, quam, illis semimutilatis, de rapinâ nova
construerentur” (iii. 278).
NOTE F. p. 36.
THE CHILDREN OF GODWINE.
The question of Godwine’s marriage or marriages I examined in my first
volume (p. 467), and I there came to the conclusion that there is no
ground for attributing to him more than one wife, namely Gytha, the
daughter of Thurgils Sprakaleg and sister of Ulf. There is no doubt that
Gytha was the mother of all those sons and daughters of Godwine who play
such a memorable part in our history.
The fullest lists of Godwine’s sons are those given by William of
Malmesbury (ii. 200) and Orderic (502 B). William’s list runs thus,
Harold, Swegen, Tostig, Wulfnoth, Gyrth, Leofwine. That of Orderic is,
Swegen, Tostig, Harold, Gyrth, Ælfgar, Leofwine, Wulfnoth. Saxo (196)
speaks of Harold, Beorn, and Tostig as sons of Godwine; that is, he
mistook Beorn the nephew of Gytha for her son. Snorro (Laing, iii. 75.
Ant. Celt. Scand. 189) has a far more amazing genealogy. He seems to
assume that Godwine must have been the father of every famous Englishman
of his time, and he reckons up his sons thus—Tostig the eldest,
_Maurokari_ (Morkere), _Waltheof_, Swegen, and Harold. He pointedly adds
that Harold was the youngest. It must be on the same principle that
Bromton (943) seems to make Godwine the father of Gruffydd of Wales. At
least his list runs thus, Swegen, Wulfnoth, Leofwine, Harold, Tostig,
and _Griffin_. So Walter of Hemingburgh (i. 4) gives Godwine a son
Griffus, which may be a confusion between Gruffydd and Gyrth. Knighton
(2334) gives the sons as Swegen, Harold, Tostig, Wulfnoth, Gyrth, and
Leof_ric_. But elsewhere, as Bromton had given Godwine a Gruffydd,
Knighton in the same spirit helps him to a Llywelyn. At least he talks
(2238) of the “malitia et superbia Haraldi et _Lewlini_ filiorum
Godwini.”
The Biographer mentions four sons, Harold, Tostig, Gyrth, and Leof_ric_.
This last mistake is odd, as from the combined authority of the
Chronicles, Florence, Domesday, and the Tapestry, there can be no doubt
that the true name is Leof_wine_. But the two names are much alike, and
both were current in the great Mercian house, whence they probably came
into the house of Godwine. If Earl Leofric was the godfather of
Godwine’s son, and gave him, not his own name, but that of his father
Leofwine, the confusion would be easily accounted for.
Of these sons, there is no doubt about six, namely Swegen, Harold,
Tostig, Gyrth, Leofwine, Wulfnoth, who all figure in the history at
different points. The only question is whether we ought, on the sole
authority of Orderic, to add a seventh son named Ælfgar. According to
him, Ælfgar lived and died a monk at Rheims, and Wulfnoth did the like
at Salisbury. This is undoubtedly false as regards Wulfnoth; and the
tale of a son of Godwine, otherwise unknown, spending his whole life in
a French monastery has a somewhat apocryphal sound. At any rate we may
dismiss Ælfgar, as a person of whose actions, if he ever existed, we
have no knowledge, while of the other six brethren we know a good deal.
Of the daughters of Godwine, there is no need to prove the existence of
Eadgyth the Lady. Another daughter, Gunhild, rests on the sure evidence
of the Exon Domesday (pp. 96, 99, “Gunnilla filia Comitis Godwini”). She
also has a history. A third daughter, Ælfgifu, is more doubtful. Kelham
(Domesday, 153) and Sir Henry Ellis (i. 309) speak of “Ælveva soror
Heraldi” as occurring in Domesday, but they give no reference, and I
have not as yet been able to find her name in the great record. But it
seems likely that Godwine had a third daughter, and it is not unlikely
that her name was Ælfgifu. It is part of the story of Harold’s oath
(Sim. Dun. 1066 and elsewhere) that he promised to marry his sister to
one of William’s nobles. Obviously this cannot apply to Eadgyth, nor yet
to Gunhild, who was devoted to a religious life. I shall, in my next
volume, discuss the question whether this sister may not be the puzzling
Ælfgyva of the Tapestry.
Of the order of the sons there is no doubt. Swegen (“filius primogenitus
Swanus,” Fl. Wig. 1051) was the eldest. Harold came next. That Harold
was older than Tostig is plain from the Biographer (“major natu
Haroldus,” 409), and indeed from the whole history. So even Saxo (207)
speaks of “minores Godovini filii [which at least includes Tostig]
majorem perosi.” Orderic’s notion (492 D) that Harold was younger that
Tostig is simply a bit of the Norman legend, devised to represent Harold
as depriving his elder brother, sometimes of the Earldom, sometimes of
the Kingdom. Snorro’s idea that Harold was the youngest of all is wilder
still. The order of the several brothers is marked very plainly in the
dates of their promotion to Earldoms; this is Swegen, Harold, Tostig,
Gyrth, Leofwine. Wulfnoth, who never held an Earldom, was doubtless the
youngest.
The order in which the brothers sign charters is worth notice. Setting
aside one impossible charter (Cod. Dipl. iv. 80–84), Swegen always signs
before Harold, Harold always before Tostig, Tostig always before Gyrth
and Leofwine. But Harold, Gyrth, and Leofwine do not observe so strict
an order among themselves. May we not infer from the recorded
disposition and actions of Swegen and Tostig that a certain attention to
ceremony was needed in their cases, while the other three brothers, who
lived and died firm friends, could afford to dispense with it?
The order of the daughters among themselves must have been Eadgyth,
Gunhild, Ælfgifu, if there was an Ælfgifu. For a daughter of Godwine and
Gytha to have been talked of as an intended wife for any one in 1066,
she must have been the very youngest of the family.
The order of the sisters with regard to their brothers is more difficult
to fix. It is hopeless to try to fix the place of Gunhild. But, as
Ælfgifu must have been the youngest, there is some reason to believe
that Eadgyth was the eldest of the family. The Biographer (p. 397)
compares four children of Godwine, seemingly Eadgyth, Harold, Tostig,
and Gyrth—he never mentions Swegen—to the four rivers of Paradise;
“Felix prole piâ Dux, stirpe beatus avitâ,
His quatuor natis dans Anglia pignora pacis.
Prodit gemma prior, variæ probitatis amatrix,
In medio Regni, tanto Duce filia patre
Ædgit digna suo, Regi condigna marito.”
This looks as if Eadgyth was the eldest of all. Godwine and Gytha were
married in 1019 (see vol. i. p. 467). Harold therefore, the second son,
could not, even if Eadgyth was younger than himself, have been born
before 1021, perhaps not till 1022 or later. He therefore could not have
been above twenty-four when he became Earl, nor above forty-five at his
death—he may of course have been younger. But none of Godwine’s sons who
held Earldoms could have been so young as William of Malmesbury fancied
Gyrth to be in 1066, when he calls him (iii. 239) “plus puero adultus et
magnæ ultra ætatem virtutis et scientiæ.” He had then been Earl of the
East-Angles for nine years.
NOTE G. p. 36.
THE GREAT EARLDOMS DURING THE REIGN OF EADWARD.
It is not always easy to trace the succession of the men who ruled the
different Earldoms of England during the reign of Eadward. In several
cases the Chronicles give us notices of the death, deposition, or
translation of one Earl and of the appointment of his successor. But
these entries taken alone would not enable us to put together a perfect
series of the Earls. For instance, Eadwine (1065), Gyrth (1066),
Leofwine (1066), Waltheof (1066), are all spoken of as Earls without any
account of their appointment, and, in the last three cases, without any
hint as to the districts over which they ruled. To make out anything
like a perfect list, we must go to various incidental notices in the
royal writs and elsewhere. By their help we shall be able to recover,
not indeed an absolutely complete account, but one much fuller than
appears on the face of the history, and one which reveals to us a great
number of anomalies which we should not have expected. The way in which
several Earls held isolated shires detached from the main body of their
Earldoms, and the way in which shires were transferred from the
jurisdiction of one Earl to that of another, are both of them very
remarkable.
For a complete view of these changes, and indeed of the general
succession of the Earls, we must go back to the fourfold division of
England by Cnut in 1017 (see vol. i. p. 448). Cnut then kept Wessex in
his own hands, and appointed Eadric over Mercia, Thurkill over
East-Anglia, Eric over Northumberland. In 1020 (see vol. i. p. 469),
Wessex also became an Earldom under Godwine. Now in these four great
governments we can trace the succession of Earls without difficulty,
with the single exception of East-Anglia. We have no account of that
Earldom from the banishment of Thurkill in 1021 (see vol. i. p. 473) to
the appointment of Harold, seemingly in 1045 (see above, p. 37). As for
Northumberland, I have already traced out the succession of its Earls
(see vol. i. p. 585 et seqq.). There is no doubt that, at the accession
of Eadward, Siward was in possession of both parts of the old Northern
realm, and that he remained in possession of them till his death. The
succession in Wessex is plainer still; Godwine was appointed in 1020,
Harold succeeded him in 1053; there is no room for any question, except
as to the disposal of the Earldom during the year of Godwine’s
banishment. And the mere succession in Mercia is equally plain. Leofwine
succeeded Eadric in 1017; Leofric succeeded Leofwine some time between
1024 and 1032 (see vol. i. p. 461); Ælfgar succeeded Leofric in 1057;
Eadwine, there can be no reasonable doubt, succeeded Ælfgar on his
death, at some time between 1062 and 1065. Our difficulties are of other
kinds. There is, first, the great uncertainty as to the meaning of the
name Mercia. There is the fact that various shires, especially in
Mercia, are found in the hands of other Earls than those to whom the
fourfold division would seem to have committed them. There is the fact
that we find mention of Earls holding Earldoms other than the four great
ones, and seemingly formed by dismemberments of the four. Lastly, we
find, especially under Cnut, the names of several Earls whom it is not
easy to supply with Earldoms.
This last difficulty need not greatly trouble us. It does not follow
that every Danish chief who signs a charter of Cnut with the title of
Earl was actually established in an English Earldom. On the other hand,
some one must have ruled in East-Anglia between 1021 and 1045, and it is
a fair guess, though nothing more, that the successive husbands of
Gunhild, Hakon and Harold (see vol. i. p. 475 et seqq.), who are spoken
of as if they had some permanent connexion with England, were Earls of
the East-Angles during some parts of that interval. The main difficulty
springs from what seem to have been the constantly fluctuating
arrangements of the Mercian shires. The old chaotic state of central
England seems to revive. First, it is not always clear what we are to
understand by the name Mercia. The name at this stage sometimes
includes, sometimes excludes, those parts of old Mercia which were ceded
by Ælfred to Guthrum. Secondly, we find various shires, Mercian in one
or the other sense, which are not under the government of the person
spoken of as the Earl of the Mercians.
Now when, as in the fourfold division made by Cnut, Wessex,
Northumberland, East-Anglia, and Mercia are spoken of as an exhaustive
division of England, there can be no doubt that Mercia is taken in the
widest sense, meaning the whole land from Bristol on the Avon to Barton
on the Humber. With this great government Eadric was invested. But it is
equally plain (see vol. i. p. 580) that, at a somewhat later time,
either Mercia in this sense was dismembered in favour of independent
Earls, or else subordinate Earls were appointed under a superior Earl of
the Mercians. I will now put together the evidence which we find on
these heads.
The first hint which we come across of a dismemberment of this kind is
in 1041, when we find Thuri or Thored, “Comes Mediterraneorum” and Rani
or Hranig, “Comes Magesetensium,” distinguished from Leofric, “Comes
Merciorum.” Of Thored we also know that his Earldom took in
Huntingdonshire. See vol. i. p. 580, where a writ of Harthacnut
addressed to him is quoted. And one may suspect that we ought to
substitute the same name for “Toli comes” who in a Huntingdon writ of
Eadward (Cod. Dipl. iv. 243) is addressed along with Bishop Eadnoth,
fixing the date of the writ to the years 1042–1050. (This Toli can
hardly be Tolig who is elsewhere addressed in Suffolk, seemingly as
Sheriff under the Earldom of Gyrth. Cod. Dipl. iv. 222, 223.) Of Ranig
we know that he held the rank of Earl as early as 1023 (see vol. i. p.
580). We may therefore be inclined to suspect that Mercia was
dismembered on the death of Eadric, and that, besides the Mercian
Earldom held by Leofwine and Leofric, two fresh Earldoms, whether
subordinate or independent, were formed within the limits of the old
Mercian Kingdom. On the whole I am inclined to think that a certain
superiority was always retained by Leofric, as chief Earl of the
Mercians. He always fills a special place, alongside of Godwine and
Siward, and we shall come across evidence to show that some of the
dismembered shires did, in the end, revert to him or to his house.
As to this Earldom of the “Mediterranei” or Middle-Angles, held by
Thored, we have no distinct account of its extent. But it is a probable
guess that it took in the whole eastern part of Mercia, the part in
which the Danish element was strongest. I am inclined to think that in
this Earldom Thored was succeeded by Beorn. Our indications are
certainly slight, but they look that way. We hear nothing distinctly of
Thored in Eadward’s time, while it is plain (see p. 36) that Beorn held
some Earldom from about the year 1045 till his murder. We know also that
his Earldom took in Hertfordshire (Cod. Dipl. iv. 19c). I infer then
that Beorn was Earl of the Middle-Angles, of Eastern or Danish Mercia. I
also infer that in that Earldom he had no one successor. No Earl is
spoken of in the later days of Eadward who can show any claim to such a
description, and several of the shires contained within the country
which I conceive to have been held by Thored and Beorn seem to have
remained in a sort of fluctuating state, ready to be attached to any of
the great governments, as might be convenient.
Thus _Huntingdonshire_ was within the Earldom of Thored. But in 1051
(Flor. Wig. in anno) we find it, together with _Cambridgeshire_, a shire
still so closely connected with it as to have a common Sheriff, detached
altogether from Mercia, and forming part of the East-Anglian Earldom of
Harold. “Men” of Harold’s in Huntingdonshire accordingly occur in
Domesday (p. 208). But Huntingdonshire was afterwards separated from
East-Anglia, perhaps on Harold’s translation to Wessex in 1053. It then
became, strange to say, an outlying portion of the Earldom of
Northumberland. It does not however appear that Cambridgeshire followed
it in this last migration. That Huntingdonshire was held by Siward is
shown by a writ (Cod. Dipl. iv. 239) coming between 1053 and 1055. It is
certain that it was afterwards held by Waltheof. Domesday also (208)
implies the succession of Siward, Tostig, and Waltheof, by speaking of
“men” and rights belonging first to Tostig and afterwards to Waltheof.
It might be worth considering whether some confused tradition of these
transfers of the shire formed an element in the legend of Tostig, Earl
of Huntingdon, slain by Siward. See vol. i. pp. 461, 587.
_Northamptonshire_, like Huntingdonshire, was separated from Mercia and
attached to Northumberland. This is distinctly shown by a royal writ
addressed to Tostig as its Earl (Cod. Dipl. iv. 240). The only other
Northamptonshire writ that I know (iv. 216) is addressed to Bishop
Wulfwig without any Earl’s name. But, as to Northamptonshire, another
question might arise. The singular description of the daughter of the
Northumbrian Earl Ælfhelm as Ælfgifu of Northampton (see vol. i. p. 453)
may possibly point to an earlier connexion between the two districts.
This last is a mere guess, but the connexion between Northumberland and
Northamptonshire during part of the reign of Eadward is quite certain.
But Northamptonshire and Huntingdonshire were afterwards again detached
from Northumberland, and held as a separate Earldom by Waltheof. On this
point the evidence seems quite plain; the only question is as to the
exact date. Waltheof held some Earldom at the end of the year 1066, when
he is spoken of as an Earl with Eadwine and Morkere (Chron. Wig. 1066).
Under William, besides his great Northumbrian government, he was
certainly Earl of Northamptonshire (Ord. Vit. 522 C) and of
Huntingdonshire (Will. Gem. viii. 37). We may therefore infer that these
fragments of his father’s government formed the Earldom which he had
held under Harold. The false Ingulf (Gale, i. 66) makes him receive both
these shires on his father’s death in 1057, Tostig receiving
Northumberland. The Chronicle of John of Peterborough, which, though not
contemporary, has some authority as being a local record, distinctly
makes Waltheof succeed to Northamptonshire on his father’s death in
1055; “Siwardus Dux Northanhumbrorum obiit; ... cujus filius Waldevus,
postea martyr sanctus, factus est Comes Northhamptoniæ; comitatus autem
Northanhumbrorum datus est Tostio fratri Haroldi” (Giles, p. 50). But
this is shown to be incorrect by the charter just quoted, which shows
that Tostig was Earl in Northamptonshire. And the course taken by the
Northumbrian rebels in 1065 (see p. 489) seems to point to a still
abiding connexion between that shire and Northumberland. We can
therefore hardly doubt that both Northamptonshire and Huntingdonshire
were obtained by Waltheof as a result of the Northumbrian revolt in
1065.
About _Nottinghamshire_ I do not feel quite certain. It appears from
Domesday (280) that Tostig had certain rights in the town of Nottingham;
but he is not distinctly spoken of as Earl of the shire. But the
connexion between this shire and the Northumbrian Primate makes a
connexion with the Northumbrian Earl far from unlikely.
_Hertfordshire_ formed part of the Earldom of Beorn. We have no further
account of it till after the redistribution in 1057 (see above, pp. 418,
419), when it appears in the hands of Leofwine. Two writs (Cod. Dipl.
iv. 217, 218) are addressed to him as Earl, conjointly with Wulfwig,
Bishop of Dorchester—the Prelate of the Middle-Angles—whose episcopacy
ranges from 1053 to 1067. In Domesday also (132) eighteen burghers in
the town of Hertford are described as being “homines Heraldi Comitis et
Lewini Comitis,” perhaps a sign of the superiority exercised by Harold
over the Earldoms of Gyrth and Leofwine. Men of Leofwine occur also in
the town of Buckingham (143) and in other parts of that shire (144,
145), suggesting that _Buckinghamshire_ also made part of his Earldom.
Of _Bedfordshire_ we seem to have no distinct account. Waltheof
(Domesday, 210 _b_) held lands there, but it need not have been in his
Earldom.
_Oxfordshire_ appears in 1015 (Flor. Wig. in anno) as part of the
Earldom of Swegen. (See above, p. 36.) After 1057 it appears as an
outlying appendage of the East-Anglian Earldom of Gyrth. Two writs for
Oxfordshire are addressed to him conjointly with Bishop Wulfwig (Cod.
Dipl. iv. 215, 217). The former is the well known grant of Islip to the
church of Westminster.
Of the other East-Mercian shires we have no account. But I am inclined
to believe that they must have reverted to Leofric, perhaps on the death
of Beorn. I am led to this belief by the almost certain fact that
_Lincolnshire_ did. All history and tradition connects Leofric and his
house with that shire; one of the great objects of his bounty, the
minster of Stow, is within its borders, and it is plain that, in 1066
(Flor. Wig. in anno), Lindsey formed part of the Earldom of his grandson
Eadwine.
The shiftings of the East-Mercian shires are thus frequent and
perplexing, but those of West-Mercia are equally so. That the
north-western shires remained constantly under Leofric and his house
there can be no reasonable doubt. Our one writ in those parts (Cod.
Dipl. iv. 201) is addressed to Eadwine in _Staffordshire_, and the
entries of property held in that shire and in _Cheshire_ by him and his
father are endless. The same may be said of _Shropshire_, but as soon as
we get south of that limit, we are at once in the region of
fluctuations. We have seen that Ranig was Earl of the Magesætas or of
_Herefordshire_ in 1041. It is impossible to say whether his government
extended beyond that limit. One can hardly doubt that Ranig was
succeeded by Swegen, whose Mercian possessions (Flor. Wig. 1051)
consisted of the shires of Hereford, Gloucester, and Oxford. It is
therefore not unlikely that Ranig’s government was of the same extent,
but we cannot be certain. But it is quite certain that Herefordshire was
detached from the government of Leofric and his successors during the
whole reign of Eadward. It is not clear what became of the shire during
Swegen’s first banishment. Something belonging to Swegen, either his
Earldom or his private estate, was (see pp. 89, 101) divided during his
absence between Harold and Beorn. It is therefore quite possible that
one or other of them may have governed Herefordshire from 1046 to 1050.
But it is equally possible that the shire was, during that interval,
held by Ralph of Mantes, Ralph the Timid, the son of Walter and Godgifu,
Indeed this last view becomes the more likely of the two, when we
remember the firm root which the Normans had taken in Herefordshire
before 1051 (see p. 138), which looks very much as if they had been
specially favoured in these parts. That Ralph succeeded Swegen on his
final banishment in 1051 I have no doubt at all. Sir Francis Palgrave
(English Commonwealth, ii. ccxc.) calls this fact in question on the
grounds that, at the time when William of Malmesbury (ii. 199) calls him
“Comes Herefordensis,” Herefordshire was under the government of Swegen,
and that, when Florence (1055) speaks of his doings in the Herefordshire
campaign, he does not formally describe him as Earl of the shire. But
surely, when a certain shire is invaded, and a certain Earl goes forth
to defend it, the presumption, in the absence of some distinct evidence
the other way, is that the Earl who so acts is the Earl in charge of the
shire. The passage of William of Malmesbury is simply one of his usual
confusions of chronology. Speaking of Eustace of Boulogne and his visit
to England in 1051, he mentions his marriage with Godgifu, and goes on
thus, “quæ ex altero viro, Waltero Medantino, filium tulerat Radulfum,
qui _eo tempore_ erat Comes Herefordensis, ignavus et timidus, qui
Walensibus pugnâ cesserit, comitatumque suum, et urbem cum episcopo,
ignibus eorum consumendum reliquerit; cujus rei infamiam maturè veniens
Haroldus virtutibus suis abstersit. Eustachius ergo ... Regem adiit.”
Undoubtedly, according to strict grammatical construction, “eo tempore”
ought to mean in 1051, but William so jumbles together the events of
1051 and of 1055 that it is hardly safe to argue from this expression
that he meant distinctly to assert that Ralph was Earl of Herefordshire
in 1051. He may just as well have meant that he was so when he waged his
unfortunate campaign with the Welsh, and certainly no one who got up his
facts from William of Malmesbury only would ever find out that that
campaign happened four years after the visit of Eustace.
Ralph then, I hold, was certainly Earl of Herefordshire in 1055, and the
natural inference is that he succeeded Swegen in 1051, and that, as
Swegen never came back, he was allowed to retain his Earldom in 1052.
That Ralph was succeeded by Harold in 1057 there can be no doubt. But
Harold’s Herefordshire Earldom is so important as a piece of national
policy, and it is connected with so many points in Harold’s character,
that I have spoken of it somewhat largely in the text. See pp. 395, 417,
and, for writs addressed to Harold in Herefordshire, see p. 547.
But we have also the fact that Ralph certainly held the rank of Earl
in the year 1051, while Swegen was still acting as Earl of the
Magesætas (see p. 141). We have also his signatures as Earl as early
as 1050 (see p. 111). Sir Francis Palgrave is therefore very possibly
right in quartering him in _Worcestershire_. That shire, he is
inclined to think, was in Cnut’s time held by Hakon the doughty Earl,
the first husband of Gunhild. This view he rests on a writ of Cnut’s
(Cod. Dipl. iv. 56) addressed to him as Earl in Worcestershire. The
writ is clearly spurious, but it is perhaps one of those cases in
which a spurious document proves something. Would a forger insert a
name so little known as that of Hakon in a spurious writ, unless he
had seen it in a genuine writ? Again, it is rather remarkable that in
two Worcestershire documents (see a deed of Bishop Ealdred, Cod. Dipl.
iv. 137, evidently passed in a Worcestershire Scirgemót, and another,
iv. 262) there is mention of Danish Thegns (“ealla ða yldestan þegnas
on Wigeraceastrescíre, Denisce and Englisce”) as a distinct class in
Worcestershire. This is what we should hardly have looked for so far
west, and it may possibly be taken in connexion with the complaints
about Danish spoilers of the Church of Worcester, which we have seen
in pp. 544, 560. This prevalence of Danes in the shire looks of itself
like the effect of the administration of a Danish Earl, and we find
also what seems to be a distinct mention of a Hakon as holding a
prominent position in the shire. In a document of Bishop Æthelstan of
Hereford in Cod. Dipl. iv. 234 we find, joined together in a
transaction of the time of Cnut, “Leofwine Ealdorman and Hacc ... and
Leofric, and eal seo scír.” In Mr. Thorpe’s Diplomatarium, p. 376, the
name is supplied in full, “Hacun,” which one might almost have
ventured to do without manuscript authority. Hakon is thus placed
between Ealdorman Leofwine and his son and successor Leofric. This
looks very much as if Hakon were a subordinate Earl of Worcestershire
under Leofwine as superior Earl of the Mercians. If so, he may, or may
not, have been removed from Worcestershire to the greater government
of the East-Angles. But, if we admit Hakon, we still have no means of
bridging over the interval between his death in 1030 and Ralph’s
appearance in 1041. Ralph, I suspect, when he received Herefordshire,
gave up Worcestershire to Odda. Of this Earl I must say a little more,
and he forms a natural means of transition from Mercia to Wessex.
The West-Saxon Earldom, during the administration of Godwine and Harold,
seems, except during the year of banishment, to have suffered no
dismemberment beyond the surrender of certain shires to be held by the
sons or brothers of its two Earls, doubtless under the superiority of
the head of the family. Thus Swegen, during his father’s lifetime, held,
besides his three Mercian shires, the government of _Somersetshire_ and
_Berkshire_ (Flor. Wig. 1051). On the fall of Godwine, Wessex was for a
moment dismembered (see p. 160). As we hear of no Earl of the
West-Saxons being appointed, the eastern shires, Berkshire included,
probably reverted to the Crown. But Somersetshire was joined with the
other western shires to form a new government under the King’s kinsman
Odda (“Odo et Radulfus Comites et Regis cognati,” says William of
Malmesbury, ii. 199). He had already some connexion with that part of
England, as he signs (Cod. Dipl. vi. 196) a charter of Bishop Ælfwold of
Sherborne relating to matters in Dorsetshire and Devonshire, which, from
the mention of Bishop Lyfing, must be older than 1046. He was now set as
Earl over the whole of the ancient _Wealhcyn_, or as the Peterborough
Chronicler (1048) puts it, “ofer Defenascire and ofer Sumersæton and
ofer Dorseton and ofer Wealas.” The Welsh are of course the Welsh of
Cornwall. (There is something singular in the territorial form being
applied to Devonshire and the tribe form to the Sumorsætas, but the same
distinction is made by the Worcester Chronicler in the next year.) Dr.
Lappenberg (510) suspects this Odda to have been a Frenchman. I see no
reason for this surmise. An “Odo Comes” is certainly mentioned in the
list of Normans established in England in Eadward’s time given in
Duchèsne, p. 1023, a list clearly made up of bits from Florence and
elsewhere. But he is said to have been “ante Edwardi tempora in exsilium
ejectus.” Henry of Huntingdon too (M. H. B. 761 E) speaks of an “Odo
Consul” as banished along with Archbishop Robert. But these are no great
authorities. A banishment of Odda seems quite out of the question, and
there is not a word in the Chronicles to imply that he was a foreigner.
Foreigners are commonly spoken of as such, and a foreign descent is
certainly not implied in Odda’s kindred with the King. He may have
sprung from some of the more distant branches of the royal family, or he
may have been connected with the King through his grandmother Ælfthryth.
His name, in its various forms, Odda, Oda, Odo, Oddo, Otto, Eudes, and
the like, is one of the few names which are common to England, Germany,
and France. But, in the shape of Odda, it is thoroughly English, and it
appears in English local nomenclature in such names as Oddington. Odda
had also a brother and sister, who bore the distinctively English names
of Ælfric (Cod. Dipl. iv. 137, 262. Chron. Wig. 1053) and Eadgyth
(“Eddied soror Odonis Comitis,” in Domesday 186). He himself also, after
his monastic profession, bore the no less truly English name of
Æthelwine (Flor. Wig. 1056. A signature of “Odda monachus” in Cod. Dipl.
iv. 132 cannot be his, by the date). His signatures as Earl are rare;
there is one in Cod. Dipl. iv. 139. But both Odda and Ælfric often sign
charters as “minister” and “nobilis,” sometimes, as in one of 1048 (Cod.
Dipl, iv. 116, so also vi. 196), in company with one Dodda, whom one
suspects to be a kinsman. Odda of course resigned his West-Saxon
government on the return of Godwine, and both Somersetshire and
Berkshire henceforth remained in the immediate possession of the Earl of
the West-Saxons. (See writs to Harold in Somersetshire, Cod. Dipl. iv.
195 et seqq., in Berkshire, iv. 200, in Dorsetshire, iv. 200.) But Odda
continues to be spoken of as Earl (Chronn. Ab. and Wig. 1056); and his
connexion with the Hwiccian land and its monasteries points to
Worcestershire, or possibly Worcestershire and Gloucestershire, as the
district under his charge. Three of the documents just quoted as bearing
his signatures are the deeds of Bishop Ealdred concerning lands in
Worcestershire of which I have already spoken (Cod. Dipl. iv. 137, 138,
262, see above, p. 562), The signatures to be noted are “Leofric Eorl
and Odda Eorl and Ælfric his broðor,” “Leofricus Dux, Ælfgarus Dux, Odda
Dux,” “Leofric Eorl and Odda and Ælfric his broðor.” There is also a
signature of Azor or Atsor, a well known Hwiccian Thegn (see above, p.
545). The special mention of Danish Thegns in Worcestershire I have
already spoken of (p. 561). It is therefore most probable that Odda held
the Earldom of the Hwiccas from the return of Godwine till the time when
he forsook the world. It must then have reverted to the House of
Leofric, as in Domesday (172) we find the city of Worcester making
payments to Eadwine as Earl.
In the East of England the ancient boundaries both of Wessex and of
East-Anglia were freely tampered with when the younger sons of Godwine
had to be provided with Earldoms. There can be no doubt that the Earldom
of East-Anglia was conferred on Gyrth, when Ælfgar was translated to
Mercia in 1057. The only question is whether he had not received some
smaller government at an earlier time. Gyrth appears as “Eorl” in the
Chronicles and as “Comes” in Domesday (Suffolk, 283 et al). In one
Suffolk entry (290) it is distinctly said that “Comes Guert tertiam
partem habebat.” That his Earldom took in Oxfordshire as an outlying
possession we have already seen; his possession of the two strictly
East-Anglian shires is shown by a variety of writs. In Cod. Dipl. iv.
208 he is addressed for Norfolk and Suffolk, in iv. 222 for Suffolk
only, in iv. 223 and 225 for East-Anglia generally, in iv. 221 for
Suffolk only, conjointly with Harold. In all these writs he is joined
with Æthelmær, Bishop of the East-Angles from 1047 to 1070. The date of
his appointment seems certain, as no earlier date is possible, and there
is no reason to suspect one at all later. But the words in which the
Biographer of Eadward describes Gyrth’s elevation are not very clear.
After speaking of the appointments of Harold and Tostig, he adds (Vita
Eadw. p. 410), “Juniorem quoque Gyrth, quem supra diximus, immunem non
passus est idem Rex à suis honoribus, sed comitatum ei dedit in ipso
vertice Orientalis Angliæ, et hunc ipsum amplificandum promisit, ubi
maturior annos adolescentiæ exuerit.” This may mean that Gyrth was first
invested with the government of some part of East-Anglia, perhaps under
the superiority of Ælfgar, and was encouraged to look forward to the
possession of the whole. Or it may mean that, when invested with the
government of all East-Anglia, he was encouraged to look forward to
something beyond its bounds, a promise of which the addition of
Oxfordshire may have been the fulfilment. This last view is incidentally
confirmed in a singular manner by the way in which the town of Oxford is
spoken of in Domesday (154). The duties payable to the Earl are
described as paid to Ælfgar. Here of course, as in several other cases,
the record describes a state of things existing “in the time of King
Eadward,” but not “on the day when King Eadward was quick and dead.” A
mention of Eadwine would have excluded Gyrth; a mention of Ælfgar does
not exclude him. But it shows that Oxfordshire was at one time held by
Ælfgar; it shows therefore that Gyrth did not receive Oxfordshire at the
same time as Norfolk and Suffolk. The shire may have been taken from
Ælfgar at his second outlawry, or it may have been conferred on Gyrth
after Ælfgar’s death. But at all events, Gyrth became Earl of the
East-Angles in 1057, only with a narrower jurisdiction than had been
attached to that title when it was held by Harold, probably narrower
than when it was held by Ælfgar. Harold had, together with the two
strictly East-Anglian shires, held Huntingdonshire, Cambridgeshire, and
Essex, probably including Middlesex. None of these, except perhaps
Cambridgeshire, fell to the lot of Gyrth. He seemingly took the remote
Oxfordshire in their stead. Of Huntingdonshire I have already spoken.
The shires of _Essex_ and _Middlesex_, together with that of _Hertford_,
and probably _Buckinghamshire_ (see above, p. 560), fell to the lot of
Leofwine. Of _Bedfordshire_ I cannot speak with any certainty.
We have no record of Leofwine’s appointment as Earl, but one can hardly
doubt that his investment with the large and important government which
the writs set him before us as holding took place at the general
distribution in 1057. But, as in the case of Gyrth, a question arises
whether he had held a smaller government at an earlier time. There is a
writ in Cod. Dipl. (iv. 191) addressed to Leofwine in Kent conjointly
with Archbishop Eadsige, who died in 1050, and with Godwine, Bishop of
Rochester, who died in 1046. If this document be genuine, it reveals the
very curious fact that the young son of Godwine, while still hardly
beyond boyhood, held, under his father’s immediate eye, the government
of the shire which had been his father’s first possession. If this be
so, it may decide us as to the interpretation of the doubtful passage of
the Biographer about Gyrth, and we shall have to look for some similar
earlier endowment for Tostig. But, on the other hand, the Chroniclers,
in recording the events of the years 1049–1052, while they carefully
give the title of Earl to Godwine, Swegen, Harold, and Beorn, never give
it to Tostig, Gyrth, or Leofwine. “Harold Eorl and Tostig his broðor,”
says the Peterborough Chronicler (1046). Leofwine’s early promotion is
therefore very doubtful; but of the extent of his later government there
is no doubt. It took in the shires of Essex, Middlesex, Hertford,
Surrey, Kent, and probably Buckinghamshire. Writs are addressed to him
for Surrey, jointly with Stigand (Cod. Dipl. iv. 205), for Essex (as he
is coupled with Bishop William, iv. 213), for Middlesex jointly with
William (iv. 214), for Hertfordshire, as we have seen, jointly with
Wulfwig. “Men” of Earl Leofwine in Middlesex are also mentioned in
Domesday, 130 _b_. But the general superiority of Harold, whether as
elder brother or as elected Ætheling, seems shown by a writ addressed to
him in Middlesex, jointly with Bishop William (iv. 211). It can hardly
belong to the time between September 1052 and Easter 1053, between which
dates it is just possible, and no more, that there may have been some
moment at which Harold was Earl of the East-Angles and William also was
in possession of the see of London (see pp 345, 358). The Earldom of
Leofwine thus answered pretty well to what Londoners sometimes speak of
as the Home Counties. But the great city itself was not subject to the
jurisdiction of any Earl. The King’s writs for London are addressed to
the Bishop, the Portreeve or Portreeves, the Burgh-thegns, and sometimes
the whole people (“ealle ðe burhware”). See Cod. Dipl. iv. 212, 213,
214.
I have thus tried, as well as I could, to trace out these singular
fluctuations in the boundaries of the great Earldoms. To make matters
clear, I have endeavoured to represent them by a comparative map of
England at two stages of the reign of Eadward. The idea of such an
attempt was suggested by the map given by Sir Francis Palgrave in his
History of the Anglo-Saxons, p. 327. Some points of course are
conjectural, and I have not been able to express the various
fluctuations which happened at dates between the two years which I have
chosen for illustration. But I trust that the two maps between them
fairly represent the state of things in the earlier and in the later
days of Eadward.
NOTE H. p. 62.
THE LEGEND OF EMMA.
As the name of Godgifu is most familiar to the world in general through
the legend of her riding naked through Coventry (besides the references
in p. 48, see R. Wendover, i. 496), so the name of Emma is best known
through the legend of her walking unhurt over the hot ploughshares. The
tale appears to have grown out of the real history of her disgrace at
this time, mixed up with other particulars from various quarters. And
when a prince stands in such singular relations both to his mother and
to his wife as those in which Eadward stood to Emma and Eadgyth, it is
not wonderful that, in the process of legend-making, the two injured
Ladies got confounded.
[Illustration: THE EARLDOMS IN 1045.]
[Illustration: THE EARLDOMS at the end of 1065.]
The tale may be seen in Bromton, X Scriptt. 941. He seems to place the
event in 1050, when Robert was already Archbishop of Canterbury. He
calls it indeed the fourth year of Eadward, but he places it immediately
before the events of 1051. The Norman Primate persuades the King that
Emma—forty-eight years after her first marriage, fifteen years after the
death of her second husband—had been guilty of too close an intimacy
(“nimia familiaritas”) with Ælfwine, Bishop of Winchester. The choice of
an episcopal lover was unlucky, as Ælfwine had already been dead three
years (see p. 94); a more ingenious romancer would have named Stigand.
The Bishop is imprisoned; the Lady is spoiled of her goods and sent to
Wherwell, a manifest confusion with Eadgyth’s banishment thither in
1051. From her prison, where she was not very strictly kept (“laxiùs
custodita”), Emma writes to those Bishops in whom she trusted, saying
that she is far more shocked at the scandal against Ælfwine than at that
against herself. She is even ready to submit to the ordeal of burning
iron in order to prove the Bishop’s innocence. The other Bishops advise
the King to allow the trial, but the Norman Archbishop uses very strong
language indeed. Emma is “fera illa, non fœmina;” her daring went so far
that “amasium suum lubricum Christum Domini nominavit,” and so forth.
She may make compurgation for the Bishop (“vult purgare pontificem”),
but who will make compurgation for herself? She is still charged with
complicity in the death of Ælfred, and with having made ready a poisoned
bowl for Eadward himself. Yet, if she will make a double purgation, if
she will walk over four burning shares for herself and five for the
Bishop, her innocence shall be allowed. By dint of prayer to Saint
Swithhun, the ordeal is gone through successfully. The penitent King
implores pardon, and receives stripes (“disciplinas recepit”) both from
his mother and from the Bishop; he restores their confiscated goods; and
Robert, if not actually banished, finds it convenient to leave England.
In honour of the deliverance, of the Lady and the Bishop, each gives
nine manors, one for each ploughshare, to the Church of Winchester.
The account in the Winchester Annals (p. 21 et seqq. Luard) is
substantially the same, and it sometimes agrees in words with that in
Bromton. Unless Bromton has simply abridged the Winchester story, both
are borrowed from the same source. But the Winchester annalist is very
much fuller, and, after his manner, he puts long speeches into the
mouths of his actors, that made by the Norman Archbishop displaying a
remarkable acquaintance with the less decent parts of the satires of
Juvenal. The most important difference is the introduction of Godwine.
The event is placed in 1043. Archbishop Robert—he is already
Archbishop—persuades the King to banish Godwine and his sons, to send
his mother to Wherwell, and to forbid Ælfwine to come out of the city of
Winchester. The tale then follows much as before, only, together with
the restoration of Emma and flight of Robert, Godwine and his sons are
restored at the petition of Emma. Also, it was after these doings that
Eadward seems to have first taken to working miracles (“Rex Edwardus
magnis post hæc cœpit coruscare miraculis etiam in vitâ suâ”).
I suspect that this is the older version. This is the Winchester
writer’s only mention of the banishment and return of Godwine. Bromton,
or whoever is represented by that name, knew that Godwine’s banishment
happened at quite another time and from quite other causes; he knew also
that Robert was not Archbishop in 1043. He therefore left out all about
Godwine, and moved the tale to the year 1050, when Robert was
Archbishop. But he failed to mark that he thus brought in a
chronological error as to the death of Ælfwine. On this last point the
local Winchester writer is of course accurate.
I cannot help adding good Bishop Godwin’s inimitable account of the
charges brought by Robert against Emma. “He began therefore to beate
into the king’s head (that was a milde and soft natured gentleman) how
hard a hand his mother had held upon him when he lived in Normandy; how
likely it was that his brother came to his death by the practise of her
and Earle Godwyn; and lastly that she used the company of Alwyn Bishop
of Winchester, somewhat more familiarly then an honest woman needed.”
I may add that M. de Bonnechose (“ut erat miræ simplicitatis et
innocentiæ,” as the Winchester writer says of Eadward) believes
everything. All about Godgifu, all about Emma, the “cruelle épreuve” and
the “tragique scène,” will be found in his Quatre Conquêtes, ii. 81–88.
In short, his history gives us, as Sir Roger de Coverley says, “fine
reading in the casualties of this reign.” Mr. St. John exercises a sound
judgement, and Thierry seems to hold his peace.
NOTE I. p. 110.
THE WELSH CAMPAIGN OF 1049.
The whole account of this campaign is full of difficulties. It is
mentioned by the Worcester Chronicler only, whose narrative is somewhat
expanded by Florence. There are also some entries in the Welsh
Chronicles which seem to refer to the same event, but the readings of
the manuscripts are so different that it is hard to tell their exact
meaning. The Worcester writer mentions the coming of thirty-six ships
from Ireland to the Usk; there, with Gruffydd’s help, they do much harm;
then Bishop Ealdred gathers a force against them, but he is defeated,
and many of his men slain, by a sudden attack in the early morning.
Florence is more detailed. First, he explains that the Gruffydd spoken
of is Gruffydd of South Wales, Gruffydd the son of Rhydderch (“adjutorio
Griffini Regis Australium Brytonum”). This is very likely; the last time
we had to do with Welsh affairs, the Northern Gruffydd was leagued with
England against his Southern namesake (see p. 87). But a difficulty
immediately follows. The pirates, with Gruffydd’s good will, begin
plundering by sea, seemingly on the coast of Gwent. The words are “circa
loca illa”—this immediately follows the mention of the Welsh Axe or
Usk—“prædam agentes.” This may mean the Somersetshire coast just
opposite, but it would more naturally mean the coast by the mouth of the
Usk. But Gruffydd ap Rhydderch would hardly consent to the harrying of
his own dominions; so we are led to suspect that Gwent must have passed
into the hands of Gruffydd ap Llywelyn, perhaps as a result of the
campaign waged by him in concert with Swegen. Or is it possible that
Gwent had already, for a time at least, passed into English hands? We
should certainly infer as much from the language of the Chronicler, who
seems to make Ealdred gather his force to defend the country at the
mouth of the Usk. But it is more likely that this is only a confused way
of telling the story, for Florence tells us very clearly that the
invaders crossed the Wye and harried some district, which must therefore
have been part of Gloucestershire. “Dein, conjunctis viribus, Rex
[Griffinus] et ipsi [Hibernienses piratæ] flumen quod Weage nominatur
transeuntes _Dymedham_ incenderunt, et omnes quos ibi reperiebant
peremerunt.” But what is Dymedham? One would expect to find it the name
of a town in Gloucestershire, but I know of no such place. It almost
looks as if Florence had got hold of some Welsh account, and had been
led astray by some such word as _Dyfed_ or _Deheubarth_. Anyhow one may
accept the fact that they crossed the Wye, and so entered the Hwiccian
diocese. It is then that Ealdred brings his force against them. In the
Chronicle that force is simply called “folc,” without further
description; it is Florence who tells us that it consisted of small
bodies from Gloucestershire and Herefordshire (“pauci de provincialibus
Glawornensibus et Herefordensibus”), together with that body of Welshmen
to whose treachery he attributes the defeat of the English.
The mention of these Welshmen in the English army raises some further
questions. Were they mere mercenaries hired for the occasion, subjects
possibly of the Northern Gruffydd, or were they men of Welsh blood and
speech living under the immediate sovereignty of the King of the
English? It can hardly be doubted that much Welsh blood must have
lingered among the inhabitants of Herefordshire and Western
Gloucestershire, just as it lingered among the inhabitants of
Somersetshire and Devonshire. A small part of modern Gloucestershire,
and a larger part of modern Herefordshire, consists of the districts
added to those shires at the dissolution of the Welsh Marches. This part
of Herefordshire was, till quite recent ecclesiastical changes, included
in the Diocese of Saint David’s. But it would seem that, as late as the
seventeenth century, Welsh must have been spoken in Herefordshire beyond
these limits, as the Act of Uniformity joins the Bishop of Hereford with
the Welsh Bishops in the duty of providing a Welsh translation of the
Prayer-Book. We can therefore well believe that, in the days of Eadward,
considerable remains both of Welsh blood and of the Welsh language must
have remained in large districts of the Magesætas and even of the
Hwiccas. Still the picture given us in Domesday of the Herefordshire
borderers (see above, p. 388), though in no way decisive of their
ethnology, sets them before us as a race eminently loyal to the English
Crown. It is therefore more likely that these traitorous Welshmen were
mere hirelings, and an expression of Florence seems to look the same
way. He calls them “Walenses quos secum habuerant [provinciales
Glawornenses et Herefordenses], _eisque fidelitatem promiserant_.” This
certainly looks as if they were not immediate English subjects, but
strangers who would serve only on receiving some sort of pledge of good
faith from their English comrades. Such at least is the only meaning
which I can get out of the text, and there seems to be no question as to
the reading. Otherwise I should be strongly tempted to read, “quique eis
fidelitatem promiserant,” so as to make the “fidelitas” a pledge given
by the Welshmen. In any case the “fidelitas” seems to be given or
received by the army as a body, not by the Bishop or any other
commander. We seem here to have a military Scirgemót, just as we
elsewhere have military Gemóts of the whole Kingdom.
One can hardly doubt that this fleet from Ireland is the same as that of
which the Welsh Chroniclers speak under the year 1050. But they say
nothing of the alliance between Gruffydd and the pirates, and they seem
rather to speak of the fleet as one which came to attack Wales. The
variations in the manuscripts are remarkable. The text of the Brut y
Tywysogion calls it a fleet which “failed coming from Ireland to South
Wales” (“ballaỽd llyges o Iwerdon yn dyfot y Deheubarth.” I quote the
original, though ignorant of the Welsh language, as Welsh scholars may
be able to judge of the translation). But another reading is “a fleet
from Ireland endangered South Wales” (“y periglawd llynghes o Iwerdon
Dehavbarth”). The text of the Annales Cambriæ has “Classis Hiberniæ in
dextrali parte periit,” but another manuscript reads “Classis Hiberniæ
in dextrali parte Cambriæ prædavit.” It is quite possible that the Danes
may have begun with plundering, and may have afterwards been won over by
Gruffydd to join him against the English.
The most perplexing thing, after all, about this campaign, is its
ending, or rather its lack of an ending. What happened after the escape
of Ealdred?
NOTE K. p. 124.
DANEGELD AND HEREGELD.
It can hardly be doubted that the original meaning of the word
_Denagyld_ must have been money paid to the Danes to buy them off, a
practice of which I need not multiply instances during the reign of
Æthelred. But it so happens that the word itself does not occur till
much later times. As far as I know, the single appearance of the word in
Domesday (336 _b_) is the earliest instance. It occurs also in the
so-called Laws of Eadward, c. 11 (Schmid, 496), in the Laws of Henry the
First, first in the Charter of London (Schmid, 434) and afterwards in c.
15 (Schmid, 446). There are also well known passages in Bromton (942,
957) and the Dialogus de Scaccario, (ap. Madox, Exchequer, p. 27). In
all these passages, (except perhaps in that of Bromton, who calls it
“tallagium datum Danis,”) the Danegeld is described as a tax levied, not
to buy off Danes, but to hire mercenaries, whether Danes or others, to
resist them. Thus in the “Laws of Eadward” the description given is as
follows;
“Denegeldi redditio propter piratas primitùs statuta est. Patriam enim
infestantes, vastationi ejus pro posse suo insistebant; sed ad eorum
insolentiam reprimendam statutum est Denegeldum annuatim reddendum;
i. e. duodecim denarios de unâque hidâ totius patriæ, ad conducendos
eos, qui piratarum irruptioni resistendo obviarent.”
The description in the Laws of Henry (Schmid, 446) is more remarkable,
as it distinctly connects the Danegeld with the famous force established
by Cnut. “Denagildum, quod aliquando _þingemannis_ dabatur.”
But it is plain, from the passage with which we are concerned in the
text, and from the other passage in the Peterborough Chronicle (1040)
describing the payment to Harthacnut’s fleet in 1041, that the formal
name for a tax levied for the payment of soldiers or sailors was
_Heregyld_, _Heregeold_, _Heregeld_. I conceive that _Denagyld_ was a
popular name of dislike, which was originally applied to the payments
made to buy off the Danes, and which was thence transferred to these
other payments made to Danish and other mercenary troops, from the time
of Thurkill onwards. This would account for the name not occurring in
any early Chronicle or document.
It is commonly assumed, with great probability but without direct proof,
that the Danegeld of Domesday is the same as the “mycel gyld” recorded
in the Peterborough Chronicle to have been laid on by William in the
winter Gemót of 1083–1084. This is looked on as the revival of the tax
now taken off by Eadward. Yet it would be strange if no taxes at all for
the support of warlike forces of any kind were levied between 1051 and
1083. The Housecarls certainly continued; we hear of them by name,
besides Florence’s mention of “stipendiarii et mercenarii” in 1066. Are
we to infer that the Housecarls were henceforth maintained out of the
ordinary royal revenues, or, what seems more likely, that the tax now
remitted related wholly to the fleet?
While on the subject of Danegeld, I may mention that the Liber de Hydâ
contains a document purporting to be the Will of King Eadred, which, if
genuine, shows that the possibility of a payment to the Danes was
contemplated even in his time. The document is given in Old-English,
with a later English and a Latin translation; but it is curious enough
that, in the two latter versions, the passage is left out. In the
Old-English text it stands thus (p. 153);
“Þænne an he his sayla to anliesnesse, and his deodscipe to þearfe,
sixtyne hund punda, to þan ðæt hi mege magan hu[n]gor, and _hæþenne here
him fram_ aceapian gif hie beþurfen.”
The language seems to be corrupt, but the meaning can hardly be doubted.
See also on Danegeld, Pegge’s Short Account of Danegeld (London 1756)
and Ellis, i. 350, 351.
NOTE L. p. 131.
THE BANISHMENT OF GODWINE.
Of the events which led to the banishment of Godwine and his sons we
have three original narratives. The Worcester and Peterborough
Chronicles give accounts which at first sight seem to be widely
different, and the Life of Eadward contains another account which seems
to be still more widely different from either of the others. The
narrative in Florence is mainly founded on that in the Worcester
Chronicle, while William of Malmesbury, as in many other cases, plainly
had the Peterborough Chronicle before him. These Latin writers serve in
some cases to explain and illustrate their English originals, while in
other places they have curiously mistaken their meaning. When, fifteen
years back, I wrote my papers on the Life and Death of Godwine in the
Archæological Journal (vol. xii. p. 48), I thought that there was a wide
difference between the accounts of the two Chroniclers, and that a
choice had to be made between them. I now think that there is little or
no discrepancy as to the facts. The main difference is that in the
Worcester narrative there are many omissions, which are supplied by the
Peterborough writer. There is also, as usual, a marked difference in
tone. The Peterborough writer is here, as ever, a devoted partizan of
Godwine, and he carefully brings into prominence every circumstance
which can tell in his favour. The Worcester writer, without showing the
least feeling against the Earl, is not so strongly committed to his
side. The curious result is that the Normannizing William of Malmesbury,
following the Peterborough version, gives a more strongly Godwinist
account than our English Florence. Also, since my former papers were
written, the contemporary Life of Eadward has come to light. The
Biographer’s account is very singular. As usual, his rhetorical way of
dealing with everything, and the necessity under which he felt himself
of justifying both Eadward and Godwine, hamper him a good deal in his
story. He also gives an account of the origin of the dispute, which is
quite different from that mentioned in the Chronicles, and which yet is
in no way inconsistent with it. He agrees with the Chroniclers in the
main facts as to places and persons, and he adds, especially towards the
end, some of those minute touches which increase one’s confidence in the
writer, as they seem to come from personal knowledge. The chief
difference between him and the Chroniclers is the difference inevitably
involved in their several positions. The Chroniclers were monks, writing
in their monasteries for the edification of their brethren. They might
err through ignorance, they might exaggerate through party spirit; but
they had no temptation to win anybody’s favour by wilful omissions or
perversions. The Biographer, with far better means of knowing the exact
truth, laboured under all the difficulties of a courtier. He had to
please one who was at once the daughter of Godwine, the widow of
Eadward, the sister of Harold, and the favoured subject of William.
The two Chroniclers agree in making the outrages of Eustace at Dover the
main cause of the dispute. The Peterborough writer adds, as a collateral
cause, the misconduct of the Frenchmen in Herefordshire. There is here
no inconsistency, but simply an omission on the part of the Worcester
writer. And, after all, the Worcester writer, though he does not
directly tell the Herefordshire story, yet incidentally shows his
knowledge of it, both in his present narrative (see p. 142, note 5,
where I have mentioned the singular mistake of Florence) and in his
entry of the next year (see p. 311). The Biographer says nothing about
either Eustace or Herefordshire; he speaks only of a revival of the old
calumnies by Archbishop Robert. Of this last cause the Chroniclers say
nothing. But there is no real inconsistency between these accounts.
Nothing is more likely than that Robert would seize such an opportunity
again to poison the King’s mind against Godwine. But these private
dealings in the royal closet would be much more likely to be known, and
to seem of great importance, to a courtier and royal chaplain than to
men who were watching the course of public affairs from a distance. And
we must not forget that, when the Biographer wrote, Robert was dead and
had no one to speak for him, while Eustace and Osbern of Herefordshire
were high in William’s, therefore probably in Eadgyth’s, favour. It
might therefore be inconvenient to enlarge too fully on their misdeeds.
The Biographer in short reports the intrigues of the court, while the
Chroniclers record the history of the nation. I accept his account, not
as an alternative, but as a supplement, to the account in the
Chronicles, and I have accordingly worked in his details into my own
narrative. As to the broad facts of the story, the meeting at
Gloucester, the presence of the great Earls, and the adjournment to
London, all our witnesses agree.
One great apparent discrepancy between the two Chroniclers at the very
outset of the story, is, I am now convinced, merely apparent. As we read
the tale in Florence (1051), the violent conduct of Eustace took place
immediately upon his landing at Dover (“Eustatius ... paucis Doruverniam
applicuit navibus; in quâ milites ejus ... unum è civibus peremerunt,"
&c.). Now it is impossible to reject the clear and detailed story of the
Peterborough writer, according to which the affair took place, not on
Eustace’s landing, but on his return from the court at Gloucester. It
now seems to me that there is here simply an omission on the part of the
Worcester writer, and that Florence was misled by his expression, “on
þam ylcan geare com Eustatius up æt Doferan,” &c. Taken alone, this
would certainly give one the idea which it seems to have given Florence,
but, with the fuller light of the Peterborough narrative, we may fairly
take it the other way. If this explanation be not accepted, there can be
no doubt that the Peterborough story is the one to be followed. But it
must be remembered that, if any one chooses to accept Florence’s story,
the case of Godwine and his clients is thereby made still stronger. As
Florence tells the tale, the men of Dover were not simply resisting an
act of violence done within the Kingdom; they were resisting what would
seem to them to be an actual foreign invasion.
In the narrative of the events in Gloucestershire each of the Chronicles
fills up gaps in the other. The Worcester writer leaves out Eadward’s
command, and Godwine’s refusal, to subject Dover to military
chastisement. On this point the Peterborough writer is naturally
emphatic, and this part of the story seems to have awakened a deep
sympathy in his copyist William of Malmesbury. Worcester also leaves out
the King’s summons to the Witan, so that Godwine seems to levy his
forces at once, as soon as he hears of the behaviour of Eustace. A quite
different colour is thus given to the story, but it is merely by
omission, not by contradiction. On the other hand Peterborough leaves
out, what we cannot doubt to be authentic, Godwine’s demand for the
surrender of Eustace and the other Frenchmen, and his threat of war in
case of refusal. In fact the Worcester writer seems to dwell as much as
he can on the warlike, and the Peterborough writer on the peaceful, side
of the story. But the particular facts on which each insists are in no
way contradictory, and I accept both. The Biographer confirms the
Peterborough statement of a summons to the Witan, only he leaves out all
the warlike part, and tells us of Godwine’s offer to renew his
compurgation. This last fact is not mentioned by either Chronicler, but
it does not contradict either of them. The mediation on both sides is
mentioned in both Chronicles; the personal intervention of Leofric comes
from Florence, but it is eminently in character. I was puzzled fourteen
years back at finding what appeared in one account as an Assembly of the
Witan, described in the other as a gathering of armies. I did not then
realize so well as I do now that in those days an army and a Witenagemót
were very nearly the same thing.
In the account of the adjourned Gemót in London, or perhaps rather under
its walls, there are a good many difficulties, but no distinct
contradictions. The Peterborough narrative is still the fuller of the
two, and that which seemingly pays more regard to the strict order of
events. The Biographer tells the story from his own special point of
view, and helps us to several valuable personal notices of Stigand,
Robert, and Godwine himself. His great object is to represent Godwine,
no doubt with a good deal of exaggeration, as a model of submissive
loyalty towards Eadward. It is too much when he tells us (p. 402), how
the Earl “legationes mittens petiit ne præjudicium innocentiæ suæ
inferretur à Rege, agebatque se in omnibus modis paratum ad
satisfaciendum Regi, et cum jure et ultra jus, ad nutum voluntatis suæ.”
On one small point we find a good instance of the way in which one
authority fills up gaps in another. The Worcester Chronicle tells us
that, when the Gemót was summoned to London, Godwine went to Southwark.
Why to Southwark? It is easy to answer that it was a convenient spot, as
being at once in his own Earldom and yet close to the place appointed
for holding the Gemót (on Southwark and its relation to Godwine as Earl,
see Domesday, 32). But the Biographer helps us to a still closer
connexion between Godwine and Southwark (p. 402); “Dux quoque insons et
fidens de propriâ conscientiâ semper immuni à tanto scelere, è diverso
adveniens cum suis, assederat extra civitatis ejusdem flumen Temesin,
_loco mansionis propriæ_.” So it is from the Peterborough and Worcester
Chronicles put together that we see that Eadward summoned forces of two
kinds, both _fyrd_ and _here_ (see p. 147), to his help at the London
Gemót. The Worcester Chronicler says, “And man bead þa folce þider ut
ofer ealne þisne norð ende, on Siwardes eorldome and on Leofrices and
_eac elles gehwær_.” Here is the _fyrd_ of the Northern Earldoms and
something else. The last words, not being very clear, are slurred over
in the version of Florence; “Rex vero de totâ Merciâ et Northhymbriâ
copiosiorem exercitum congregavit et secum Lundoniam duxit.” But
Peterborough tells us more; “And het se cyning bannan út _here, ægðer ge
be suðan Temese_ ge be norðan _eall þa æfre betst wæs_.” The _fyrd_ of
the North came, and the King’s _comitatus_, the “best men,” were also
summoned, in virtue of their personal obligations, even within Godwine’s
Earldom. But the _fyrd_ of Wessex was, at first at least, on the side of
its own Earl; for the Worcester writer says that Godwine came to
Southwark “and micel mænegeo mid heom of Westsæxum.” He also directly
after calls the King’s force _here_; Godwine and his force come to meet
the King “and þone here þe him mid wæs.”
The main difficulty in this part of the story arises from an expression
of each Chronicler about the surrender to the King of certain Thegns who
were in the hands of Godwine or Harold. The first stage of the
discussion in the Worcester Chronicle stands thus, “And man borh fæste
þam kyninge ealle þa þegnas þe wæron Haroldes Eorles his [Godwine’s]
suna.” In the Peterborough account, Godwine first demands hostages and a
safe-conduct; then follows, “Ða gyrnde se cyng ealra þæra þegna þe þa
eorlas ær hæfdon, and hi letan hi ealle him to hande.” Then the King
again summons Godwine to come with twelve companions only, and Godwine
again demands hostages and a safe-conduct. One would think that the
transactions spoken of in two Chronicles must be the same; but, if so,
the Worcester writer must have placed the demand for these Thegns out of
its proper order, as he makes it come before the renewed outlawry of
Swegen, which it clearly followed. And who were these Thegns? I once
thought, with Mr. Kemble (Saxons in England, ii. 231), that they were
the hostages who had been given to Godwine at the Gloucester Gemót. This
would give an excellent meaning. Godwine has already received hostages,
as leader of one of the two great parties who are recognized as equally
in the King’s favour. He now demands further hostages for his own
personal safety. The King, instead of granting them, demands the
restoration of the former hostages. But, had this been the meaning, they
could hardly fail to have been spoken of by the regular name _gislas_.
Who then were the Thegns spoken of? I can hardly fancy that Godwine and
Harold surrendered all their own personal Thegns, the members of their
own _comitatus_. This seems to have been the notion of William of
Malmesbury, though his account is very confused. The Earls are bidden
“ut duodecim solùm homines adducerent; servitium militum, quos per
Angliam habebant, Regi contraderent.” (So Lappenberg, p. 509 of the
German original, Thorpe, ii. 249.) But surely such a surrender is
improbable in itself, and it is hardly consistent with the licence to
bring twelve companions, which implies that, after the surrender, they
had still some _comitatus_ left. I am therefore driven to suppose that
some of the King’s Thegns within the Earldoms of Godwine and Harold had,
notwithstanding the King’s summons, followed the Earls, that these
Thegns were now called on to join the King, and that the Earls put no
hindrance in their way.
It is curious, after reading William of Malmesbury’s account of all
these matters, grounded on the patriotic Peterborough Chronicle, to turn
to the passage quoted in a former note (p. 543) where he speaks of
Godwine and his sons as banished on account of their sacrilege and other
wickedness.
NOTE M. p. 174.
THE SURNAMES OF WILLIAM.
It has been pointed out by more writers than one that a certain amount
of confusion is involved in the familiar description of the great
King-Duke as William the Conqueror. He is not often called “Conquæstor”
by writers of or near his own time. Moreover, “Conquæstor” hardly means
“Conqueror” in the common use of that word, but rather “Acquirer,” or
“Purchaser,” in the wider legal sense of the word “purchase.” A former
colleague of mine in the Oxford Schools always made a point of
describing him as “William the Purchaser.” But the title of William the
Conqueror, even as commonly understood, is so familiar, so true, and so
convenient, that I have not the least wish to interfere with its use.
As far as I can see, he was known to his contemporaries as William the
Bastard, and was, after his death, distinguished from his successor by
the name of William the Great. The title of Bastard indeed stuck so
close to him that some writers, who could hardly have known what it
meant, seem almost to have taken it for his real name. Even Adam of
Bremen, who certainly knew its meaning, uses it almost as a proper name.
He introduces William (iii. 51) as “Willehelmus, cui pro obliquo
sanguine cognomen est Bastardus,” and goes on to speak of “Bastardus
victor,” and (c. 53) to say how “inter Suein et Bastardum perpetua
contentio de Angliâ fuit.” So Marianus Scotus, a. 1089 (Pertz, v. 559),
talks of “Willihelmus, qui et Bastart;” Lambert of Saint Omer (Pertz, v.
65) says, “Terra Anglorum expugnata est a Willelmo _Notho Bastart_;” and
most curiously of all, Lambert of Herzfeld, a. 1074 (Pertz, v. 216),
calls him “Willehelmus, cognomento _Bostar_, Rex Anglorum.” In our own
Worcester Chronicle, a. 1066, he appears as “Wyllelm Bastard,” and in
Olaf Tryggwasson’s Saga (p. 263), as “Vilialmur Bastardur Rudu Jarl.” So
in Orderic (663 C), “Guillelmus Nothus.” So in the Annales Formoselenses
(Pertz, v. 36), “Willelmus Bastardus invasit regnum Anglorum.” One
writer (Chron. Gaufredi Vosiensis, Labbe, iii. 284) for “Bastard” uses
the equivalent word “Mamzer”—“Normannorum Ducis filius Mamzer
Guillelmus.”
It has been often said that William himself used the description in
formal documents. This assertion rests on very slight authority. There
is a charter in Gale’s Registrum Honoris de Richmond, p. 225 (a
reference for which I have to thank Professor Stubbs), beginning “Ego
Willielmus, cognomento Bastardus, Rex Angliæ.” But it seems to me to be
palpably spurious, and those who accept it allow it to be unique.
The other title may be seen growing from the vaguer form of “the great
William” to the more distinct “William the Great.” We read in a charter
of William Rufus (Rymer, i. 5), “Ego Willelmus, Dei gratiâ, Rex
Anglorum, filius _magni Regis Willelmi_.” So Eadmer (lib. iii. 57.
Selden), “quando _ille magnus Willielmus_ hanc terram primò devicit:” so
William of Jumièges (vii. 16; cf. his description of Robert, vii. 1; see
vol. i. p. 529), “Willelmus _Dux magnus_:” so the Ely History (ii. 41),
“deditio Wilhelmi _Regis magni_.” But we find more distinctly in Orderic
(706 C), “Henricus _Guillelmi Magni_ Regis Anglorum filius,” and still
more distinctly in William of Malmesbury (Prol. in lib. iv.), “Willelmus
filius _Willelmi Magni_,” and in Æthelred of Rievaux (X Scriptt. 393),
“Vixit autem ad _Willielmi Magni_ tempora.”
The earliest instance, as far as I know, of “Conquæstor” is in Orderic
(603 A), who joins it with “Magnus”—“Guillelmus Magnus, id est
Conquæstor, Rex Anglorum.” One of the foreign writers quoted above
(Chron. Gaufredi Vosiensis, Labbe, iii. 293) comes still nearer to the
modern idea. William Rufus is “Guillelmus filius _magni Triumphatoris
Guillelmi_;” and elsewhere (284) he speaks of “Triumphator ille
Guillelmus Mamzer.”
NOTE N. p. 177.
THE BIRTH OF WILLIAM.
Several questions arise out of the narratives, historical and legendary,
of the birth of the great William. No one doubts that he was the natural
son of Duke Robert, or that he was born at Falaise; but there are
several points open to doubt,—
1st, As to the origin of his mother;
2nd, As to the exact date of his birth;
3rd, As to the exact place of his birth;
4th, As to the number of his mother’s other children.
I will discuss these questions in order.
I. I have mentioned in the text, as a curious illustration of English
feeling, the story which made William’s mother a descendant of the royal
house of England. It will be found at length, with some curious details,
in the Winchester Annals of Thomas Rudborne, Anglia Sacra, i. 247.
Rudborne professes to get the story from a book called “Chronica Danorum
in Angliâ regnantium.” As a piece of chronology and genealogy, the tale
is strange enough. The tanner is called Richard, which looks rather as
if he were a Frenchman, and he bears the surname of “Saburpyr,” the
meaning of which is far from clear. His wife is distinctly said to be a
daughter of Eadmund and Ealdgyth. Now Eadmund married Ealdgyth in 1015
(see vol. i. p. 412), and he died before the end of 1016. There is
therefore hardly room for the birth of a daughter besides the apparently
twin (see vol. i. p. 455) Æthelings, Eadmund and Eadward. Such a
daughter must have eloped with the tanner at about the same time of life
as Hermês when he stole the cows, and, as the mother of the mother of
William, who was born at the latest in 1028, she must have been a
grandmother at the age of twelve. William must also, besides being a
distant cousin of Eadward, have been also a distant nephew, a fact
nowhere else alluded to. In this tale William’s mother is called
_Helen_, perhaps through some similarity of letters with _Herleva_.
The trade of Herleva’s father seems to be agreed on at all hands. He was
a burgess of Falaise and a tanner. So the Chronicle of Saint Maxentius
(Labbe, ii. 202); “Robertus Willelmum genuit ex eâ quæ fuit filia
pelletarii burgensis.” In the narrative of William of Jumièges, the
bastardy of the Conqueror and the calling of his maternal grandfather
dawn upon the reader by degrees. He first, when describing Robert’s
nomination of William as his successor, simply calls him “Willelmum
filium suum, quem unicum apud Falesiam genuerat” (vi. 12). When he
speaks of the indignation of the Norman nobles at William’s accession,
he is driven to mention his bastardy; “Willelmus enim, ex concubinâ
Roberti Ducis, nomine Herlevâ, _Fulberti cubicularii Ducis filiâ_,
natus, nobilibus _indigenis_, et maximè ex Richardorum prosapiâ natis,
despectui erat utpote nothus” (vii. 3). The later dignity of the
grandfather is here put forward as a sort of forlorn hope; but when it
is necessary to explain the point of the insults offered to William at
Alençon, the unsavoury trade of Fulbert at last unavoidably peeps out;
“Parentes matris ejus pelliciarii exstiterant” (vii. 18).
It is possible that the word “indigenis” in the second of the extracts
just made may be taken to confirm the story according to which Fulbert
was not only of a low occupation, but of foreign birth. Besides the
English legend, which may possibly contain this small grain of truth,
there is a tale in the Chronicle of Alberic “Trium Fontium” (a. 1035,
Leibnitz, Accessiones, ii. 66), which is told with great glee by Sir
Francis Palgrave (iii. 144). According to this version, Herbert, as he
is called, was not a native of Falaise, but came with his wife Doda or
Duixa from some place, either Chaumont or Huy (Hoium), in the Bishoprick
of Lüttich. This tale however does not represent the tanner’s daughter
as the original object of the fancy of Robert. The Count sees the
daughter of his provost or bailiff (præpositus) at Falaise dancing, and
asks for her; but the lover is made the subject of a trick, and the
daughter of the tanner takes the place of the daughter of the bailiff.
Here is food for the Comparative Mythologists, as this tale is the same
as the tale of Richard and Gunnor, and as one of the legends of our own
Eadgar. See vol. i. p. 279.
II. The date of William’s birth has been discussed by M. Deville in the
_Memoires de la Société des Antiquaires de Normandie_, 1837, vol. xi. p.
179, and, after him, by M. Florent Richomme, in a pamphlet published at
Falaise under the title of _La Naissance de Guillaume-le-Conquérant à
Falaise_. There is no doubt that William was born in 1027 or 1028; M.
Deville endeavours to fix the exact date to June or July, 1027. William
was seemingly between seven and eight when Robert set out on his
pilgrimage. “Habebat tunc,” says William of Malmesbury (iii. 229),
“filium septennem.” So Wace (14360);
“N’aveit encor que sol set anz,
Petit esteit, n’ert mie granz,
Quant li Dus Robert se croisa
Et en Jerusalem alla.”
The date of Robert’s departure seems to be fixed to January, 1035, by a
charter quoted by M. Deville from the Departmental Archives at Rouen. It
is granted by Robert on the Ides of January, “quo et Hierusalem
petiturus ibi licentiam eundi à Deo et sanctis ejus petii.” But it is
argued that William was full eight years old when the news of his
father’s death reached Normandy, and when he was accordingly invested
with the Duchy. William of Jumièges (vii. 44) calls him “fere
sexagenarius, anno ducatûs in Normanniâ LII,” at his death in September,
1087. This puts his birth in 1027, and his accession in 1035. Orderic
(459 D) says that, at his accession, “tunc octo annorum erat,” and again
(656 C) William is made to call himself at that time, “tenellus puer,
utpote octo annorum.” It is therefore inferred that William attained the
full age of eight years at some time after his father’s departure, but
before his death, or at least before his death was known in Normandy.
For this purpose six months or thereabouts is allowed, and it is thus
ruled that William was eight years old in June or July, 1035, and was
therefore born in June or July, 1027.
I am not fully convinced by these arguments. The expression of William
of Jumièges, “ferè sexagenarius,” would seem to imply that William was
not fully sixty in September, 1087, and, if he succeeded in July, 1035,
he would then be in the fifty-third and not in the fifty-second year of
his reign. Orderic indeed (459 D) says that he reigned fifty-three
years, but, succeeding in 1035 and dying in 1087, he certainly did not
reign fifty-three years full. And Orderic’s chronology is very confused
on the matter; in the passage (656 C) where William calls himself eight
years old at his accession, he calls himself sixty-four years old at his
death (“mala quæ feci per LX quatuor annos”). This would put his birth
in 1023, quite contradicting Orderic’s other statement. Moreover the
Chronicle of Saint Michael’s Mount (Labbe, i. 348) calls him “septennis”
at the time of his accession. It seems to me therefore that it is not
safe to attempt to fix the date of William’s birth so minutely as M.
Deville does, but that it certainly happened in 1027 or 1028, and more
probably in 1027.
M. Deville connects the birth of William with that siege of Falaise
which made Robert submit to his brother Richard (see vol. i. p. 517).
This, and the death of Richard, he places in August, 1027. But William
of Jumièges (vi. 2) distinctly says that Richard died in 1028, after a
reign of two years (see vol. i. p. 517). Orderic (459 D), by making
Richard reign a year and a half, might agree with M. Deville. Most of
the Chronicles however make Richard die in 1026, the year of his
accession. See the Chronicles of Fécamp (Labbe, i. 326), of Rouen (i.
366; cf. Duchèsne, 1017 B), of Saint Michael’s Mount (i. 348). The
authority of William of Jumièges is no doubt much the highest, but his
chronology is inconsistent with M. Deville’s view.
M. Deville has however done good service in bringing prominently forward
the fact, which is commonly forgotten, that Robert, at the time of his
first amour with Herleva, was not yet Duke of the Normans, but only
Count of the Hiesmois, in which character Falaise was his capital. He
has also well pointed out his extreme youth. Robert was the second son
of Richard and Judith. The marriage contract of Judith, dated in 1008,
is given in Martène and Durand’s Thesaurus Novus, i. 123. Robert could
therefore hardly have been born before 1010; he could have been only
eighteen at the most at the time of the birth of William, and only
twenty-five at the time of his pilgrimage and death. His brother
Richard, the father of the monk Nicholas, must have been equally
precocious. Edward the Third too was only eighteen years older than the
Black Prince; but at any rate he was married.
III. That William was born at Falaise all accounts agree; but there is
not the faintest authority for placing his birth in the present donjon.
M. Deville says that the tradition is a very modern one. A room is shown
as that where William “fut engendré et nâquit,” and a sufficiently
absurd inscription commemorates the supposed fact. But we have seen (see
above, p. 176) that the existing keep is, in all probability, of a later
date than William’s birth; and, if it did exist in Robert’s time, and if
William were born in the castle at all, it is far more likely that
Herleva would be lodged at such a time in some other part of the
building, and not in the keep. The keep was not the common
dwelling-place of the lord of a castle, but only his occasional place of
defence. See Mr. G. T. Clark, Old London, pp. 14, 39, 43.
But there is another statement which, if it be trustworthy, as it seems
to be, puts it beyond all doubt that William was not born in the castle
at all, but elsewhere in the town of Falaise. The local historian of
Falaise, M. Langevin (Recherches Historiques sur Falaise, 1814. p. 134),
says, on the authority of “les anciens manuscrits extraits du chartier”
of Trinity Church, Falaise, that William was born in 1027, in that
parish, in a house belonging to him—that is, seemingly to his mother or
her father—in the old market-place, and that he was baptized in Trinity
Church. See Richomme, p. 12, who follows Langevin. One would like to
have the exact extracts from the manuscripts, and to know something of
their date; but in any case they are better authority than a romantic
modern story, which seems not even to be a genuine tradition.
IV. Most writers state, or rather assume, that William was the only
child of Robert and Herleva. The lioness was bound to bring forth only a
single cub. But Mr. Stapleton, who pried into every corner in Norman
matters, has, in a paper in the Archæologia (xxvi. 349 et seqq.),
brought some strong arguments to show that William had a sister by the
whole blood, Adelaide or Adeliza, wife of Enguerrand, Count of Ponthieu.
This Adelaide was the mother of two daughters, one bearing her own name,
who married Odo of Champagne, the other Judith, the too famous wife of
our Earl Waltheof. The elder Countess Adelaide has been commonly taken
to be only a half-sister of William, a daughter of Herleva by her
husband Herlwin. She appears to have been so considered by the
continuator of William of Jumièges (viii. 37), who calls the mother of
Judith “soror uterina Willelmi Regis Anglorum senioris,” words which he
would hardly use of a daughter of Robert. Still Mr. Stapleton’s case is
very strong. It rests mainly on a charter, which Mr. Stapleton prints,
granted to the College (afterwards Monastery) of Saint Martin of Auche
(Alcis) near Aumale. Adelaide is there distinctly called the wife of
Enguerrand and sister of William, and her daughters, Adelaide and
Judith, are spoken of. After the death of her husband, she enriched the
church of Saint Martin, and, while still young (“quum esset adhuc in
juvenili ætate”), she had it hallowed by Archbishop Maurilius. Now Count
Enguerrand died in 1053, and Maurilius was Archbishop of Rouen from 1055
to 1069. Mr. Stapleton thinks that these dates better suit a daughter of
Robert and Herleva, who must have been born between 1028 and 1035, than
a daughter of Herlwin and Herleva, who could not have been born before
1036. There are also two statements which, though erroneous as they
stand, point to the parentage argued for by Mr. Stapleton as their
groundwork. Thus Orderic (522 C) makes Odo of Champagne marry a sister
of William and daughter of Duke Robert. The two Adelaides, mother and
daughter, are here confounded, but the fact that Duke Robert had a
daughter is preserved. So Robert de Monte, under the year 1026 (Pertz,
vi. 478), preserves the name of Aeliz or Adelaide, daughter of Duke
Robert, though he makes her the child of another mistress and not of
Herleva. This is doubtless an attempt to reconcile the existence of
Adelaide with the belief that William was an only child.
The Norman writers, it must be remembered, know nothing, or choose to
say nothing, of the marriage of Robert with Cnut’s sister Estrith. See
vol. i. p. 521. They look upon Herleva as Robert’s only consort, lawful
or unlawful. So William of Malmesbury, iii. 229; “Unicè dilexit et
aliquamdiù justæ uxoris loco habuit.” But no writer asserts any actual
marriage, except the Tours Chronicler in Bouquet, x. 284. He marries
Herleva to Robert soon after William’s birth (“Dux Robertus, nato dicto
Guillelmo, in isto eodem anno matrem pueri, quam defloraverat, duxit in
uxorem”). He also transfers the story of Herleva from Falaise to Rouen.
Possibly also some notion of a marriage may have floated across the
brain of our own Knighton, when he said (2339) that William was called
“Bastardus,” “quod ante celebrationem matrimonii natus est.”
The story of the Tours Chronicler cannot be true, as such a marriage
would have legitimated William, and he then could not have been known as
William the Bastard. But Herleva might seem from William of Malmesbury’s
words to have been looked on as something more than an ordinary
concubine. It is strange that he should be the only writer who makes
Herleva marry Herlwin during Robert’s lifetime. His words (iii. 277)
are, “Matrem, quantùm vixit, insigni indulgentiâ dignatus est, quæ,
_ante patris obitum_, cuidam Herlewino de Comitisvillâ, mediocrium opum
viro, nupserat.” But William of Jumièges (vii. 3) distinctly puts the
marriage after Robert’s death; “Postquam Hierosolymitanus Dux obiit,
Herluinus quidam probus miles Herlevam uxorem duxit, ex quâ duos filios,
Odonem et Robertum, qui postmodùm præclaræ sublimitatis fuerunt,
procreavit.” According to Orderic (660 B), Herleva was the second wife
of Herlwin, whose son Ralph by a former marriage was also promoted by
William. The honours shown by William to his mother seem to have struck
writers at a distance. Besides William of Malmesbury just quoted, the
Tours Chronicle in the French Duchèsne (iii. 361) says, “Matrem dum
vixit honorificè habuit,” and the Limousin writer William Godell
(Bouquet, xi. 235) says, “Guillelmus Rex matrem suam, quamvis esset
inferiori genere orta, multùm honoravit.” He goes on to mention the
promotion of her sons.
Of the sons of Herleva, Odo and Robert, I need not speak here; but I may
mention that she had also a daughter by Herlwin, named Muriel, who has
naturally been confounded with William’s other sister Adelaide. Wace
says (Roman de Rou, 11145),
“Ki à fame avait Muriel,
Seror li Dus de par sa mere
E Herluin aveit à pere.”
See Taylor’s note, p. 102.
One would have thought that the story of Robert and Herleva was one
which could never have been forgotten. Yet later writers did not scruple
to provide the Conqueror with new and strange mothers. Thomas Wikes,
_the_ royalist chronicler of the thirteenth century (Gale, ii. 22),
gives William the following wonderful pedigree. He was “natus ex
nobilissimâ muliere Matilde, quæ fuit filia strenuissimi militis
Richardi dicti _Sanz-peur_, filii Willielmus [_sic_, at least in the
printed text] _Lungespeye_, filii Rolandi, qui fuit primus Dux
Normannorum.” And in an unpublished manuscript of the famous Sir John
Fortescue of the fifteenth century (for a knowledge of which I have to
thank the Right Hon. Chichester Fortescue), William is said to be
Eadward’s “consanguineus germanus ex Gunhildâ amitâ suâ, sorore patris
sui.” The confusion is delightful, but it preserves the fact that the
kindred between William and Eadward had something to do with an aunt of
one or other of them.
NOTE O. p. 254.
THE BATTLE OF VAL-ÈS-DUNES.
Since my account of the battle was written, I have received a small work
by the Abbé Le Cointe, _Curé_ of Cintheaux, called “Conspiration des
Barons Normands contre Guillaume-le-Bâtard, Duc de Normandie, et
Bataille du Val-des-dunes, 1047” (Caen, 1868). M. Le Cointe has examined
the ground very carefully, both before and since my visit of last year,
and the result of his researches is a most minute topographical account,
full, accurate, and rich in local interest. I am glad to say that I do
not find anything which calls upon me to alter my own shorter
description. Since I was there, the foundations of the Chapel of Saint
Lawrence have been brought to light, and many skeletons have been found
there and in other parts of the field.
With regard to more strictly historical matters, M. Le Cointe, following
in the main the same authorities as I do, gives essentially the same
account. But he also makes use of a manuscript Chronicle of Normandy,
which however seems not to be earlier than the fifteenth century, and
whose mistakes he often stops to point out. Late writings of this kind
are of course valuable only when there is reason to believe either that
their authors had access to earlier written authorities now lost, or
else that they embody trustworthy local traditions. The Chronicle in
question contains two statements which, if true, are highly important,
and the truth of which it would be most desirable to test. One is that
the rebels were strengthened by a party of Angevins and Cenomannians,
commanded by Enguerrand, nephew of Count Geoffrey Martel (Le Cointe, pp.
19, 35). The other is that the men of Caen—faithful among the
faithless—took the side of the Duke (p. 18). It is quite possible that
the influence of the local chieftains would be smaller in so
considerable a city than it was at Coutances and Bayeux.
I would call particular attention to M. Le Cointe’s excellent remarks on
the position of the rebel forces, in p. 25.
NOTE P. p. 274.
THE COUNTS OF ANJOU AND OF CHARTRES.
With Geoffrey Grisegonelle, and still more with Fulk Nerra, we begin to
get on firmer historical ground than we can find in the days of the
earlier Counts. Fulk occupies an important place in the history of
Rudolf Glaber, having two whole chapters (ii. 3, 4) pretty well to
himself. And the exploits of Geoffrey derive more or less of
corroborative testimony from several independent sources. The panegyrist
of the family (Gest. Cons. 246) tells us that Geoffrey took an active
part in resisting Otto’s invasion of France in 978 (see vol. i. p. 265).
We learn from a distinct and contemporary authority that Geoffrey had
before that taken a part in that wild raid against Aachen (see vol. i.
p. 264) by which Lothar had provoked the German inroad. “Lotarius ...
Lotharingiam calumniatus est. Cujus expeditionibus Gosfridus Comes
Andegavorum, pater _Fulconis ultimi_, interfuit, _nostræque ætatis multi
viri_” (Chron. S. Maxentii, Labbe, ii. 203). The words “Fulconis ultimi”
could hardly have been used during the life of Fulk Nerra; it looks
therefore as if the Chronicler wrote, in extreme old age, after Fulk’s
death in 1040. These entries about Geoffrey’s attendance on Lothar fit
in curiously with a Breton account (Chron. Brioc., Morice, p. 32), how
Geoffrey seized on Guerech, the Breton Bishop and Count, on his return
from the King’s Court, and forced him—setting a precedent for two more
famous acts of his grandson—to surrender Nantes.
Rudolf Glaber is very full on the war between Geoffrey and Conan, and
the battle of Conquereux (Concretus in Rudolf, Conquerentium in the
Angevin, Concruz in the Breton, Chronicles) in the County of Nantes. The
Bretons mention two battles on the same spot, one in 982, the other in
992 (v Kal Julii), when Conan was killed (Chron. Bret. ap. Morice, i. et
seqq.); the Angevin writer (Labbe, i. 275) speaks of the latter only. In
the battle recorded by Rudolf, Conan seems not to be killed, but only
“truncatus dexterâ” (ii. 3). Conan, according to Rudolf, had taken the
title of King, like several of his predecessors. This assumption may not
have been unconnected with the great revolution of 987. Rudolf’s account
of the Bretons (ii. 3) is amusing. Their land, “finitimum ac perinde
vilissimum, Cornu Galliæ nuncupatur.” This vile country “habitatur
diutiùs à gente Brittonum, quorum solæ divitiæ primitùs fuere _libertas
fisci publici_ et lactis copia, qui omni prorsùs urbanitate vacui,
suntque illis mores inculti ac levis ira et stulta garrulitas.” Rudolf
indeed is just now so full on Angevin matters that the local panegyrist
is often content to copy him.
As for the Counts of Chartres, I was in vol. i. pp. 508, 509, misled by
a passage of William of Jumièges (v. 10) into confounding the first and
the second Odo. Odo the First died in 995, and was succeeded by his son
Theobald, who was followed in 1004 by Odo the Second. It was this second
Odo who waged the war about Tillières. In D’Achery, iii. 386, there is a
charter of Richard the Good, restoring to the Church of Chartres lands
which had been alienated from it, doubtless in the war of Tillières.
Rudolf Glaber (iii. 2) calls the younger Odo, “secundus Odo, filius
scilicet prioris Odonis, qui quantò potentior, tantò fraudulentior
ceteris.” He goes on to say, “Fuit etiam juge litigium et bella
frequentia inter ipsum Odonem et Fulconem Andegavorum Comitem, quoniam
uterque tumidus superbiâ, idcirco et pacis refuga.” The Angevin
Chronicles, on the other hand, charge King Robert with leaving Fulk to
fight their common battles all by himself. This first war, especially
the battle of Pontlevois, will be found narrated in most of the
Chronicles of the time. See Gest. Cons. 253. Chronn. Andeg. (Labbe, i.
275, 286, 287) 1016, 1025, 1026, 1027. Chron. S. Maxent. (Labbe, ii.
206) 1016, 1026. Chron. S. Florentii, ap. Morice, 122. The most striking
piece of detail, the intervention of Aldebert of Perigeux in 990, comes
from Ademar (iii. 34, ap. Pertz, iv. 131); “Urbem quoque Turonis
obsidione affectam in deditionem accepit et Fulchoni Comiti Andegavensi
donavit. Sed ille ingenio doloso civium amisit post paullulum, et iterum
Odo Campanensis eam recuperavit.” Odo is prematurely called
“Campanensis,” as he did not become Count of Champagne till 1019.
Odo’s last war (see p. 277) is described, among French writers, by
Rudolf Glaber, iii. 9; in Gest. Cons. 254; and Chron. S. Petri
Senonensis (D’Achery, ii. 475), where the date is given as 1046. It is
described also by all the German writers, whom the matter more
immediately concerned. See the authorities collected by Struvius, Hist.
Germ. i. 342, to which may be added the very brief notices of Lambert
under the years 1033 and 1037. The Kingdom of Burgundy, which came to an
end in 1032 by the death of King Rudolf (see vol. i. p. 479), was
claimed by Odo as well as by the Emperor Conrad, both being sisters’
sons to Rudolf. Odo obtained some advantages in Burgundy, and he is said
to have received an offer of the Crown of Italy. He then contemplated a
restoration of the Lotharingian Kingdom and a coronation at Aachen. In
Germany he was clearly looked upon as the representative of French
aggression. While one manuscript of Hermann calls him “Princeps Gallicæ
Campaniæ,” another calls him “_Princeps Carlingorum_” (see Pertz, v.
121, and the old edition of Pistorius, p. 137). On this very remarkable
expression, see vol. i. p. 172.
But still more remarkable is the sort of echo of these distant events
which reached Ireland. In the Annals of Ulster, a. 1038 (O’Conor, Rer.
Hib. Scriptt. iv. 324), we read of “Prœlium inter Cuana _Regem ferorum
Saxonum_ et Othonem Regem Francorum, in quo cæsi sunt millia plurima.”
So in Tigernach, under the same year (O’Conor, i. 287), “Prœlium inter
Cuanum Regem Saxonum et Otam Regem Francorum, in quo occisi sunt mille
cum Otâ.” “Cuana” reminds us of “Cona” in our own Chronicles (1056),
where however Henry is meant. It is also to be noticed that Conrad the
Frank is called King of the Saxons. Not only is the Imperial dignity
forgotten, but the memory of the great Saxon dynasty seems to extend
itself over all succeeding Kings and Emperors. Then Odo, a French Count,
striving after the Kingdom of Burgundy, or in truth after any Kingdom
that he could get, is magnified into a King of the French. Lastly,
“feri” seems to be a standing epithet for all Saxons, whether
continental or insular. The Ulster Annals (O’Conor, iv. 326) in the very
next year record the death of “Haraldus Rex Saxonum ferorum,” that is,
Harold the son of Cnut.
NOTE Q. p. 276.
THE IMPRISONMENT OF WILLIAM OF AQUITAINE.
This imprisonment of William of Aquitaine is described at greater or
less length by a whole crowd of writers. See the Gesta Consulum (257,
258), where the war is very fully narrated; the Angevin Chronicles under
1033; Chron. S. Mich. ap. Labbe, i. 350. Will. Pict. 86. Will. Malms.
iii. 231. Chron. S. Maxent. 1032, 1035. According to the Gesta the war
began out of the quarrel about Saintonge, and it is probably with
reference to that County that both William of Poitiers and William of
Malmesbury speak of the Duke of Aquitaine as the “lord” (dominus) of
Geoffrey. The Chronicle of Saint Maxentius also speaks of the battle
“juxta monasterium Sancti Jovini ad Montem Cærium” (Labbe, ii. 207). It
is of course dwelt on at much greater length in the Gesta.