LEADING MEN IN ENGLAND AT THE DEATH OF EADGAR.
Ælfhere of Mercia is called by Florence (983) “Regis Anglorum Eadgari
propinquus,” which most likely means kindred by the mother’s side. His
name is affixed to most of the charters of the time, and many acts in
Mercia are stated to be done by his consent. See, for instance, a
charter of Bishop Oswald (Cod. Dipl. iii. 5), where he bears the title
of “heretoga.” The Chronicles (A. 975), followed by Henry of Huntingdon
(M. H. B. 748 C), who calls him “consul nequissimus,” charge him with
actually destroying monasteries. Florence speaks only of his bringing in
married priests and their wives. In some cases it appears that former
owners of lands then in monastic occupation laid legal claims to them as
having been taken from them unjustly. See Hist. El. lib. i. c. 5, 8;
Gale, pp. 465, 467. It is curious to find among these claimants against
the monastery of Ely no less a person than Ealdorman Æthelwine himself
(Hist. El. lib. i. c. 5). Æthelwine, worshipped at Ramsey, was thought
much less highly of at Ely, just as we shall find Harold spoken of very
differently at Wells and at Waltham.
Of the house of the Ealdormen of the East-Angles, of whom Æthelwine, who
has just been mentioned, was the most famous, we can get a still more
distinct idea. See Florence, A. 975, 991; Hist. Rams. 387, Gale.
Æthelwine was the youngest son of Æthelstan, surnamed the Half-king
(Hist. Rams., u. s.), Ealdorman of the East-Angles, who seems to have
died about 967, when we find his last signature (Cod. Dipl. iii. 16). He
married (Hist. El. ii. 8; Gale, p. 495) Æthelflæd, daughter of
Brihthelm, and sister of the famous Ealdorman Brihtnoth, of whom we
shall hear more presently. They had four sons, Æthelwold, Ælfwold,
Æthelsige, and Æthelwine. Of these, the eldest and youngest were in turn
joined with their father in the government of East-Anglia. Æthelwold,
whose widow Ælfthryth married King Eadgar in 964 (when Florence calls
him “gloriosus dux Orientalium Anglorum”), signs several charters as
_dux_ down to 962, probably the year of his death. From that year his
youngest brother (see Florence, 992) Æthelwine takes his place. It is
not easy to see why Ælfwold was excluded, as he lived on in a private
station, and was on good terms with his brother the Ealdorman (Fl. Wig.
A. 975). Æthelsige also, the third brother, signs many charters with the
title of “minister,” that is, Thegn. Æthelwine died in 992 (Fl. Wig.
992). The portentous title of “totius [Orientalis?] Angliæ aldermannus,”
said (see Hist. Rams. p. 462) to have been inscribed on his grave, is
hardly credible, but it has its parallels in the title of “Dux
Francorum,” borne by the contemporary Lords of Paris, in that of
“Princeps Francorum” borne by the Mayors of the Palace in earlier days
(Ann. Mett. 621; Pertz, i. 320, &c.), and in that of “Dux Anglorum”
given by the Bayeux Tapestry to Harold when Earl of the West-Saxons. Who
succeeded him in his earldom is not very clear. He had a son Æthelweard,
who died at Assandun in 1016. Florence calls him “Æthelwardus dux,
filius ducis East-Anglorum Æthelwini Dei amici,” but the Chronicles call
him simply “Æþlweard Æþelwines sunu ealdormannes.” The testimony of
Florence shows that “Æþelwines,” the reading of the Abingdon Chronicle,
is the right one. Worcester has “Ælfwines,” Peterborough, more
remarkably, “Æðelsiges.” The question as to the right of this Æthelweard
to the title of “dux” at once leads us to the position of the famous
Ulfcytel of East-Anglia, of whom see below, Note HH. With regard to
Æthelsige, the question at once arises whether this is the Æthelsige of
whom Æthelred speaks in a charter of 999 (Cod. Dipl. iii. 305) as having
beguiled him into his spoliation of the see of Rochester. See above, p.
267. This Æthelsige, he complains, corrupted his innocent youth, and he
draws a fearful picture of his evil deeds in various ways. He was at
last punished by the loss of all his own honours and property. This is
no doubt the Æthelsige who signs many of the earlier charters of
Æthelred (Cod. Dipl. iii. 171, 190, 202, 212, 216, 222, 224, 228, 280);
but it is not clear either whether this is our Æthelsige, or whether
either of them is the same as the captain who ravaged South Wales in
991.
Of Brihtnoth, the uncle and ally of Æthelwine, we shall hear again as
the hero of Maldon (see p. 270). Of the many ways of spelling his name
and kindred names, Brihtric and the like, _Briht_noth is the one which I
prefer. _Beorht_ is the older, _briht_ the later form of the word; so
that _Beorhtnoth_ and _Brihtnoth_ are the correct earlier and later
forms of the name. _Byrhtnoth_ and other spellings are simply
transitional and irregular.
Brihtnoth, we learn from the Song of Maldon, was the son of Brihthelm. I
take him to be the same as Brihtnoth the Thegn, to whom a grant of land
is made by Eadgar in 967 (Cod. Dipl. iii. 15), and who signs as
“minister,” another man of the same name signing as “dux.” This elder
Ealdorman Brithnoth can be traced back to the beginning of Eadgar’s
reign. It is not easy to say to which of these two Brihtnoths the
signatures of “Brihtnoth dux” in the latter years of Eadgar belong. Nor
is it clear which of the two it is to whom Eadgar makes another grant of
land in 967 (Cod. Dipl. vi. 82). But it is certain that our Brihtnoth
had attained the rank of Ealdorman before the death of Eadgar in 975. In
991 he was an old man, “Hár hilderinc.” It should be noticed that
Brihtnoth the Thegn gives the lands granted him by the King to the
church of Worcester, an act eminently characteristic of our Brihtnoth.
There is another notice of Brihtnoth in a charter of Æthelred of 1005
(Cod. Dipl. iii. 339), which seems to contain a reference to a genuine
will of his. In the confirmation charter of Eynsham abbey the King—“ego
Eðelredus, multiplici Dei clementia indulgente, Angul-Saxonum antedictus
rex, cæterarumque gentium longe lateque per circuitum gubernator et
rector”—records among other gifts, “villam quæ Scipford dicitur dedit
vir prædictus [the founder Æthelmar] ad monasterium antedictum, quam ei
Leofwinus suus consanguineus spiritu in ultimo constitutus donavit,
_quam Birhtnoðus antea dux præclarus ab Eadgaro patre meo dignis præmium
pro meritis accipere lætabatur_; Micclantun similiter ad monasterium
dedit, quam ille _Birhtnoðus dux prædictus ultimo commisit dono ab
Eadgaro quoque ei antea donatam et in cartula firmiter commendatam_.” We
here see the favour in which Brihtnoth stood with Eadgar.
Brihtnoth appears also in the will of Æthelflæd (recited in that of
Ælflæd, Cod. Dipl. iii. 271), a document of the reign of Eadgar. Large
bequests are made to the Ealdorman by Æthelflæd; but his death seems to
have hindered their taking effect, as a different disposal of the
property is made by Ælflæd. Mr. Thorpe (Dipl. Ang. 519) identifies this
Æthelflæd with the widow of King Eadmund, but his reference to the
Chronicles should be 946 instead of 925. Brihtnoth had married
Æthelflæd’s sister. As his own widow bore the same name, was she a
second wife, or were there two sisters both called Æthelflæd? We find
another case of three Æthelflæds in one family, p. 521. In the alleged
will of Brihtnoth himself in Palgrave, ii. ccxxiii., I put very little
faith.
The accounts of Brihtnoth in the Histories of Ely and Ramsey seem to be
mixed up with a good deal of fable. They both (Ramsey, c. lxxi.; Gale,
p. 422; Ely, lib. ii. c. 6; Gale, p. 493) tell a story how the
Ealdorman, on his march against the Danes, came to Ramsey and asked for
food for his army. The niggardly Abbot Wulfsige was ready to entertain
the Ealdorman and a few select companions, but he would not undertake to
feed the whole host. Brihtnoth, like Alexander, will partake of nothing
in which all his soldiers cannot share, and marches on to Ely, where
Abbot Ælfsige receives the whole multitude. Brihtnoth accordingly gives
to the abbey of Ely certain lands which he had intended for that of
Ramsey. This is hardly history; we see too clearly the stories of Gideon
and the elders of Succoth and of David and Abiathar the Priest. It is
also hard to see how a march to Maldon from any part of Brihtnoth’s
government could lead him by either Ramsey or Ely. The Ely History
escapes this difficulty by making him Earl of the Northumbrians instead
of the East-Saxons, and by making two battles of Maldon. Brihtnoth,
victorious in the former, returns to Northumberland; the Danes land
again; Brihtnoth comes from Northumberland, taking the two abbeys on his
march; he then fights the second battle, in which, after _fourteen days_
of combat, he is killed.
Of the three Thegns of Lindesey or Deira, who played such a cowardly
part in 993 (see p. 283), two at least are known to us by the charters
of Eadgar’s reign. The account of the affair in the Chronicles is
simply, “Þa onstealdon þa _heretogan_ ærest þone fleam· þæt wæs Fræna
and Godwine and Friðegist.” Florence expands somewhat; “Duces exercitus,
Frana videlicet, Frithogist, et Godwinus, quia ex paterno genere Danici
fuerunt, suis insidiantes, auctores fugæ primitus exstiterunt.” The
words “ex paterno genere” would imply that the earlier Danish settlers,
like the followers of Cnut and of William afterwards, often took English
wives. Also Florence translates “heretogan” by “duces _exercitus_,” lest
“heretogan” should be taken to imply the permanent rank of Ealdorman.
Neither Fræna nor Frithegist ever held that rank. They sign charters in
abundance, from the days of Eadgar onwards, but never with any higher
rank than that of “minister” or “miles.” Fræna signs a great many
charters long after this. In 995 he signs two of Æscwig, Bishop of
Dorchester (Cod. Dipl. iii. 286, 288), which probably implies that he
belonged to Lindesey and not to Deira. Of Godwine we may suspect that he
also was of Lindesey, that he reformed, and rose to the rank of
Ealdorman. Godwine, Ealdorman of Lindesey, who died at Assandun in 1016,
is most likely the man here spoken of; but Godwine is so common a name
that it is impossible to say to whom all the signatures of “Godwine
minister” belong. Sometimes two or more Godwines sign without further
distinction.
These are the chief men of the days of Eadgar who are also heard of
under Æthelred, with the exception of those who are connected with
Northumberland, of whom I shall speak in a separate Note (KK). It would
also be easy, by the help of the charters, to trace the succession and
promotions of several men of less renown.
NOTE BB. p. 265.
THE ELECTION OF EADWARD THE MARTYR.
The Chronicles do not, either in prose or in verse, say anything about
the disputed election which is said to have followed the death of
Eadgar, though three of them notice in verse that the crown passed to a
minor. Eadgar dies,
“And feng his bearn syððan
Tó cynerice,
Cild únweaxen.
Eorla ealdor;
Þam wæs Eadweard nama.”
Either there is here a play on the words “ealdor” and “cild únweaxen,”
or else the passage is a sign how utterly the word “ealdor” had lost its
primitive sense.
Florence describes the disputed election very clearly;
“De rege eligendo magna inter regni primores oborta est dissensio;
quidam namque regis filium Edwardum, quidam vero fratrem illius
elegerunt Ægelredum. Quam ob caussam archipræsules Dunstanus et
Oswaldus, cum coepiscopis, abbatibus, ducibusque quam plurimis, in unum
convenerunt, et Eadwardum, ut pater suus præceperat, elegerunt; electum
consecraverunt et in regem unxerunt.”
William of Malmesbury (ii. 161) makes Eadward be supported by Dunstan
and certain Bishops in opposition to the Lady Ælfthryth and a party of
the nobles; “contra voluntatem quorumdam, ut aiunt, optimatum et
novercæ, quæ vixdum septem annorum puerulum Egelredum filium provehere
conabatur, ut ipsa potius sub ejus nomine imperitaret.”
Osbern, the biographer of Dunstan (Anglia Sacra, ii. 113), speaks of
Eadward as the heir, but says that some of the chief nobles objected to
his election (“in cujus electione dum quidam principes palatini
adquiescere nollent”) because of their fears from his supposed character
(“existimantes juvenem regem inhumanum futurum, consilia sapientum non
curaturum, sed pro libidine omnia acturum”). Eadmer, in his Life of
Dunstan (Ang. Sac. ii. 220), makes them dread his severe justice (“quia
morum illius severitatem, qua in suorum excessus acriter sævire
consueverat, suspectam habebat”). They also object that he was not the
son of a crowned King and his Lady (“quia matrem ejus, licet legaliter
nuptam, in regnum tamen non magis quam patrem ejus dum eum genuit
sacratam fuisse sciebant”). Waitz (iii. 65) remarks, when Pope Stephen
anointed the sons of Pippin along with their father, “dass dies
geschehen sei, um den vor der Wahl gebornen Söhnen das volle Erbrecht zu
geben und die Möglichkeit zu entfernen, dass man etwa später gebornen
Söhnen einen Vorrang beilege.” In both these accounts the matter is
brought to an issue by the vigorous action of Dunstan.
One would like to know how far there is any truth in these statements of
the objections brought against Eadward. One would have thought that
there could not have been much to fear from either the virtues or the
vices of a boy of his years. But the objection brought against him on
the ground of his not being of kingly birth is much more likely to be a
piece of genuine tradition. The difficulty about it is that, as
Lappenberg remarks, it was an objection which told just as much against
Æthelred as against Eadward. For the meaning can hardly be other than
that Eadward was born before his father’s coronation at Bath in 974,
which Æthelred was also. Otherwise the objection would really be a good
one, and it was used long after on behalf of Henry the First against his
elder brothers. (Cf. Herod. vii. 2–3.) Perhaps all that was meant was to
deny that Eadward had any _preference_ over his half-brother, so that
the two boys might be candidates on equal terms.
I may add that the Bath coronation of Eadgar is to me one of the most
puzzling things in our history. I should have taken it to be, according
to one story, a mere taking again of the crown after the penance for the
matter of Wulfthryth; only the Chronicles, which have hitherto freely
called Eadgar King, in recording the coronation pointedly call him
Ætheling.
NOTE CC. p. 278.
THE TWO ÆLFRICS.
Who was Ælfric, and how many Ælfrics were there? An Ælfric, son of
Ælfhere of Mercia, had, as we have seen, succeeded his father in the
government of that country, and had been banished five years before (see
p. 268) the time which we have reached. An Ealdorman Ælfric died
fighting for his country twenty-five years later (see p. 293). Most
likely these are three distinct persons; but, as the Ælfric of whom we
are now speaking was pardoned after crimes which might seem
unpardonable, he might easily be thought to be the same as the already
banished son of Ælfhere. At the same time it should be noticed that
Florence in no way identifies the Ælfric of 991 with the banished Ælfric
of 986, while he takes great pains to show that the Ælfric of 991 is the
same as the traitor of 992 (“Alfricum cujus supra meminimus”) and of
1003 (“Alfricus dux supra memoratus”). The charters also seem to show
that Ælfric the son of Ælfhere and the Ælfric of 991 are two distinct
persons. In 983 (Cod. Dipl. iii. 196) we have the signatures of “Ælfhere
dux,” “Ælfric dux.” In another charter of the same year we find these
two signatures and also those of two persons called “Ælfric minister.”
In 984 (Cod. Dipl. iii. 202) we find two signatures of “Ælfric dux” and
one of “Ælfric minister.” In 984 (Cod. Dipl. iii. 203) we find “Ælfric
ealdorman” addressed along with “ealle þa þegenas on Hámtúnscire.” A
mention of Bishop Ælfheah in the charter shows that this means Hampshire
and not Northamptonshire, and Ælfric the traitor seems to command the
men of Hampshire in 1003 (see p. 318). In Cod. Dipl. iii. 292 we have
mention of an “Ælfric ealdorman” who seems to have jurisdiction in
Berkshire; his government may easily have taken in the two adjoining
shires. I infer, then, that Ælfric the traitor was not Ealdorman of the
Mercians, but of Hampshire and Berkshire, and that he was appointed in
or before 983, when we find his signature along with that of Ælfhere.
Ælfric the son of Ælfhere succeeded his father in Mercia in 983; in 984
therefore there were two Ealdormen of the name, and we find the
signatures of both.
Another argument to the same effect is supplied by two charters which
evidently refer to the banishment of Ælfric the son of Ælfhere. One in
Cod. Dipl. vi. 174, attributed to the year 993, granting certain lands
to the monastery of Abingdon, says, “Has terrarum portiones Alfric
cognomento puer a quadam vidua Eadfled appellata violenter abstraxit, ac
deinde quum in ducatu suo contra me et contra omnem gentem meam reus
exsisteret ... quando ad synodale concilium ad Cyrneceastre universi
optimates mei simul in unum convenerunt, et eumdem Alfricum majestatis
reum de hac patria profugum expulerunt.” The other charter, of 999 (Cod.
Dipl. iii. 312, Hist. Abingdon. i. 373), states much the same of a
person described as “comes vocitamine Ælfric.” This charter is signed by
an “Ælfric dux,” that is, no doubt, Ælfric of Hampshire. “Alfricus
cyld,” that is, of course, “cognomento puer,” is spoken of also in the
Ely History (i. 12, Gale) as a man of importance, as the son of
Ealdorman Ælfhere would be, before Æthelred was King (969–979). The
description of the Witenagemót at Cirencester reads very like the
banishment in 986.
As for the hero of Assandun, I can only say that the name Ælfric is
exceedingly common, and that it is open to us to identify him with any
of the men who sign as “Ælfric minister.”
I am thankful that I have only to deal with the lay Ælfrics. There is an
ecclesiastical difficulty of the same kind which I cheerfully leave in
the hands of Professor Stubbs.
NOTE DD. p. 279.
THE TREATY WITH OLAF AND JUSTIN.
The text of the Treaty is given in Thorpe, i. 284; Schmid, 204. It is
drawn up between King Æthelred and his Witan on the one side and the
invading army on the other. “Þis synd þâ frið-mâl and þâ forword, þe
Æðelred cyng and ealle his witan wið þone here gedôn habbað, þe Anlaf
and Justin and Guðmund Stegitan sunu mid wæ̂ron.” It must belong to this
year, and, if so, it seems to prove that Olaf Tryggvesson was present,
and also that he was not yet either King or catechumen. Had the document
belonged to the later dealings with Olaf, he would hardly have been
placed alongside with Justin and Guthmund, but some notice would have
been taken both of his Christianity and of his royal rank. Compare the
different language of the treaties of Ælfred with the first and of
Eadward with the second Guthrum, Thorpe, i. 152, 166; Schmid, 106, 118.
The treaty between Ælfred and Guthrum is drawn up between “Ælfred
cynincg and Gŷðrûm cyning and ealles Angelcynnes witan and eal seô þeôd
þe on Eâst-Englum beôð.” That between Eadward and the second Guthrum is
between “Eadward cyng and Gûðrûm cyng,” and the Christianity of both
sides is distinctly set forth. Schmid (p. li.) supposes, either that the
Anlaf here spoken of was another person from Olaf Tryggvesson, or else
that the name Anlaf is an interpolation in the text. But surely these
suppositions are rather violent, when the matter can be explained
without recourse to them.
By this treaty provision is made for wergilds, for the reception of
merchants, and for various civil contingencies, which clearly imply that
a long stay was expected on the part of the Northmen. Neither side is to
receive the other’s thieves, foes, or _Welshmen_ (Schmid, 208). “And þæt
naðor ne hy ne we underfon oðres Wealh ne oðres þeof ne oðres gefan.”
The _Wealas_ of the Northmen must have been simply their prisoners or
servants of any kind, many of them perhaps Englishmen. So completely had
the word shared the fate of the word _Slave_, as is still more plainly
the case with the feminine form _Wylne_.
On the use of the word _Englaland_ in the treaty, see above, p. 538.
NOTE EE. pp. 285, 302.
THE RELATIONS OF ÆTHELRED WITH NORMANDY.
The English Chronicles, and also Florence, are silent as to any
intercourse, whether friendly or hostile, between England and Normandy
earlier than the marriage of Æthelred and Emma. The one passage which
has been sometimes thought to refer to one of the events recorded in the
text cannot possibly have that meaning. The entry in the Chronicles in
the year 1000, “And se unfrið flota wæs ðæs sumeres gewend to Ricardes
rice,” can refer only to the Danish fleet. “Unfrið flota” must be taken
in the same sense as “unfrið here” in the year 1009. And so it is taken
by Florence; “Danorum classis præfata hoc anno Nortmanniam petit.” We
are thus left wholly to the testimony of inferior authorities, and we
must get such an amount of truth out of them as we can.
I have, in my text, after some hesitation, described two disputes
between Æthelred and the Norman Dukes. The first quarrel was with
Richard the Fearless in 991, which was appeased by the intervention of
Pope John the Fifteenth; the second was with Richard the Good in 1000,
which led to open hostilities which are described as an English invasion
of the Côtentin. The stories rest respectively on the authority of
William of Malmesbury (ii. 165, 6), and of William of Jumièges (v. 4).
It is open to any one to reject both stories. It is still more open to
any one to reject the second story, the exaggerated character of which
is manifest, and the chronology of which must be a year or two wrong.
But I do not think that it is safe to take them, with Sir Francis
Palgrave (England and Normandy, iii. 103), and Dr. Lappenberg (p. 421 of
the original, ii. 154 Thorpe), as different versions of one event, still
less to fix, with Sir Francis, that event to the later date of the two.
William of Malmesbury tells us very little in his own name. He says only
that Richard the Fearless had provoked Æthelred in various ways (“vir
eximius, qui etiam Edelredum sæpe injuriis pulsaverit”), and that Pope
John, wishing to hinder war among Christians (“non passa sedes
apostolica duos Christianos digladiari”), sent Leo Bishop of Trier into
England to make peace. A document then follows, described as the
“legationis epistola” of this prelate, which contains an account of his
mission, and gives the terms of the peace between Æthelred and Richard,
and the names of the plenipotentiaries on both sides. The document is
very strange in point of form, as it begins in the name of the Pope,
while the latter part clearly gives the actual words of the treaty. Sir
Francis Palgrave (iii. 106) objects to the genuineness of the letter
that its style is unusual, if not unparalleled, which it certainly is.
It runs thus; “Johannes quintus decimus, sanctæ Romanæ ecclesiæ Papa,
omnibus fidelibus.” Sir Francis does not mention another objection,
namely, that neither in 991 nor in 1001 was the Archbishop of Trier
named Leo. The reigning Archbishop in 991 was Eckebert; before 1000 he
had been succeeded by Ludolf (Gesta Treverorum, ap. Pertz, viii.
169–171). But Sir Francis (iii. 107) adds, “While we reject the
convention in the shape now presented, we accept its import.—The quarrel
and the reconciliation are unquestionable verities.” But the quarrel and
reconciliation recorded by William of Malmesbury are a quarrel and
reconciliation between Æthelred and Richard the Fearless in a definite
year 991. They cannot be turned into a quarrel and reconciliation
between Æthelred and Richard the Good nine years later. The apparently
wrong name of the papal legate is a difficulty either way, but it is not
a very formidable one. Lappenberg (p. 422 of the original German) calls
Leo “_Vice_bischof von Trier,” which Mr. Thorpe (ii. 154) translates
simply “Bishop.” Lappenberg gives no reference for his description of
Leo; but a fact in German history may be safely accepted on his
authority, and the local history of Trier which I have just referred to
contains a statement which curiously fits in with our story. Archbishop
Eckebert (977–993), son of Theodoric, Count of Holland, was the son of
an English mother, and he kept up a close connexion with England. It is
therefore quite natural that either he or an officer of his church
should enter with zeal into a scheme for the advantage of a country
which Eckebert seems almost to have looked on as his own. The other
names are accurately given. John the Fifteenth was Pope, and Æthelsige
was Bishop of Sherborne, in 991. Both were dead in 1000. I think it
follows that the account in William of Malmesbury cannot possibly refer
to a transaction with Richard the Good in 1000. The story is definitely
fixed to the year 991.
Is then William of Malmesbury’s account ground enough for accepting a
quarrel between Æthelred and Richard the Fearless, and a reconciliation
brought about by Pope John Fifteenth? On the whole, I think it is. It is
not the kind of transaction which any one would invent, if nothing of
the sort happened at all, and it is hard to see to what other
transaction the account can refer. The story also, as it seems to me,
fits in well with the circumstances of the times. The “legationis
epistola” can hardly be genuine in its actual shape as a letter of the
Pope, but it seems to be made out of two genuine documents, a letter of
Pope John and the text of the treaty. The unusual style might be simply
the bungling attempt of a compiler to show which of all the Popes named
John was the one here meant. The treaty itself bears every sign of
genuineness, and the names of the plenipotentiaries are distinctly in
its favour. One of the Norman signatures is that of “Rogerus episcopus,”
and there was a Roger Bishop of Lisieux from 990 to 1024. The lesser
Norman plenipotentiaries I cannot identify, but on the English side, as
the Bishop is right, the Thegns also are right. A mere forger would not
have inserted such names as those of Leofstan and Æthelnoth. He would
either have put in names quite at a venture, or else have picked out the
names of some famous Ealdormen of the time. There could be no temptation
for a forger to pitch on Leofstan and Æthelnoth, real contemporary men,
but men of no special celebrity.
The reader has still to determine whether, accepting this account of
Æthelred’s quarrel with the elder Richard, he will go on to admit a
second quarrel with the younger Richard. The only question is whether
the story in William of Jumièges is pure invention, or whether its
manifestly exaggerated details contain some such kernel of truth as I
have supposed in the text. It certainly seems to me that to set the
whole affair down as a mere lie is attributing too much even to the
Norman power of lying, which I certainly have no wish to underrate. The
story, in its general outline, seems to fit in well with the position of
things at the time, and even with the character of Æthelred. But if we
accept it as thus far true, we must suppose that William of Jumièges
transposed the invasion of the Côtentin and the marriage of Emma. He
places the latter event first. Now the marriage would follow very
naturally on the conclusion of peace, while the invasion would not be at
all likely to follow the marriage. Sir Francis Palgrave silently
transposes the two events in the same way that I have done. He also
connects the invasion, as I have done, with the reception of Danish
vessels in the Norman havens. If this was, as I suppose, a breach of the
treaty of 991, the wrath of Æthelred becomes still more intelligible. In
this view of the matter, looking at the entry in the Chronicles under
the year 1000, we can hardly fail to fix the event in that year.
Lappenberg, whose note (p. 422) should be read in the original text,
takes the opposite view to Sir Francis Palgrave. He accepts the account
of the transaction in 991, but carries back the invasion of the Côtentin
to that year. This is at least more probable than Sir Francis’ version,
and perhaps some readers may be inclined to accept it rather than my
notion of two distinct disputes. But the narrative of William of
Jumièges connects the invasion in a marked way with the marriage of
Emma, though he has clearly confounded the order of events.
Roger of Wendover (i. 427) boldly carries back the marriage of Emma to
some date earlier than 990, and makes the quarrel between Æthelred and
her father arise out of his ill-treatment of her. He was misled by
William of Malmesbury’s characteristic contempt for chronological order.
NOTE FF. p. 300.
ÆTHELRED’S INVASION OF CUMBERLAND.
The Chronicles, followed by Florence, state the fact of Æthelred’s
expedition against Cumberland without any explanation of its motives;
“Her on þisum geare se cyning ferde in to Cumerlande, and hit swiðe neah
eall forheregode.” So Florence; “Rex Ægelredus terram Cumbrorum fere
totam depopulatus est.” For the motive of this unusual piece of energy
we have, in default of any better authority, to go to Fordun, iv. 35
(vol. i. p. 179 ed. Skene). He attributes it to Malcolm’s refusal to
contribute to the Danegeld. Having spoken of several of the payments
made to the Danes, he thus goes on;
“Unde rex Ethelredus regulo Cumbriæ supradicto Malcolmo scribens per
nuntium mandavit quod suos Cumbrenses tributa solvere cogeret, sicut
cæteri faciunt provinciales. Quod ille protinus contradicens rescripsit
suos aliud nullatenus debere vectigal, præterquam ad edictum regium,
quandocumque sibi placuerit, cum cæteris semper fore paratos ad
bellandum.... Hac caussa quidem, et sicut rex in ira motus asseruit, eo
quod regulus contra sacramentum sibi debitum Danis favebat, maximam ex
Cumbria prædam arripuit. Postea tamen concordes per omnia statim
effecti, pace firma de cætero convenerunt.”
This account seems so likely in itself that I have not scrupled to adopt
it in the text. But it must be compared with an account given by Henry
of Huntingdon (M. H. B. 750 A), which at first sight sounds very
different; “Exinde rex Edelred ivit in Cumberland cum exercitu
gravissimo, ubi maxima mansio Dacorum erat, vicitque Dacos bello maximo,
totamque fere Cumberland prædando vastavit.” Here is no mention of
Malcolm, and the Danes are described as being actually in possession of
the country, of which the other accounts give us no hint. But that
Malcolm was reigning in Cumberland at this time there is no doubt, and
if any Danes were settled there, they must have been settled by
Malcolm’s consent, willing or constrained. It is of course possible that
one ground of Æthelred’s wrath against Malcolm may have been that he had
not only refused to pay Danegeld, but had allowed Danes to settle in his
dominions. And it may be that we may here have lighted on the clew to
the great puzzle of Cumbrian ethnology. That Cumberland and Westmoreland
are to this day largely Scandinavian needs no proof. But we have no
record of the process by which they became so. In Northumberland and
East-Anglia we know when the Danes settled, and we know something of the
dynasties which they founded. But the Scandinavian settlement in
Cumberland—Norwegian no doubt rather than Danish—we know only by its
results. We have no statement as to its date, and we know that no
Scandinavian dynasty was founded there. The settlement must therefore
have been more peaceful and more gradual than the settlements in
Northumberland and East-Anglia, and the reign of Malcolm may have been
the time when it happened.
As I understand the story about the ships, the fleet, which had
doubtless been gathered in some of the southern ports, was to assemble
at Chester, and thence to sail to support the King’s land-force in
Cumberland. “His scypu,” say the Chronicles, “wendon ut abutan
Lægceaster, and sceoldon cuman ongean hyne: ac hî ne meahton.” But to
get to Chester they had to sail round Wales, which Florence expresses by
the words “mandavit ut, circumnavigata septemtrionali Brytannia, in loco
constituto sibi occurreret.” Lappenberg (430) takes “Monege” in the
Chronicles to be Anglesey; his translator (ii. 162), rightly I think,
substitutes Man, but he adds the strange assertion, of which there is no
trace in the original, that the fleet “was ordered to sail round the
north of the island,” as if “septemtrionalis Britannia” meant Caithness.
See p. 41, and the Winchester Chronicle, 922.
NOTE GG. p. 315.
THE MASSACRE OF SAINT BRICE.
The account of the massacre in the Chronicles stands thus; “On þam geare
se cyng hét ofslean ealle þa Deniscan men þa on Angelcynne wæron. Ðis
wæs gedon on Britius mæssedæg, forðam þam cynge wæs gecyd þæt hi woldon
hine besyrewan æt his life, and siððan ealle his witan, and habban
siððan þis rice.”
To this account I have in the present edition ventured to add one piece
of local detail, namely the story of the Danes at Oxford who took refuge
in Saint Frithswyth’s minster. This is recorded in the charter of
Æthelred in Cod. Dipl. iii. 327, which is marked by Mr. Kemble as
spurious or doubtful, but which I am now inclined to follow Mr. James
Parker (Historical Notices of Oxford, p. 20) in accepting as at all
events recording a real fact. The story runs thus; “Omnibus in hac
patria degentibus sat constat fore notissimum, quoddam a me decretum cum
concilio optimatum satrapumque meorum exivit ut cuncti Dani qui in hac
insula, velut lolium inter triticum, pullulando emerserant justissima
examinatione necarentur, hocque decretum morte tenus ad effectum
perduceretur, ipsi quique in præfata urbe [Oxonefordæ] morabantur Dani
mortem evadere nitentes, hoc Christi sacrarium, fractis per vim valvis
et pessulis, intrantes, asylum sibi propugnaculumque contra urbanos
suburbanosque ibi fieri decreverunt; sed cum populus omnis insequens,
necessitate compulsus, eos ejicere niteretur nec valeret, igne tabulis
injecto hanc ecclesiam, ut liquet, cum munimentis ac libris
combusserunt.” I am now inclined to accept this story, and to hold that
it has been wrongly transferred by William of Malmesbury to the time of
the murder of Sigeferth and Morkere at Oxford in 1015. His story runs
thus (ii. 179). After describing the murder of the two Thegns, much as
in the Chronicle, but with some further details, he adds, “clientuli
eorum, dominorum necem vindicare conantes, armis repulsi et in turrim
ecclesiæ Sanctæ Frideswidæ coacti, unde dum ejici nequirent, incendio
conflagrati. Sed mox regis pœnitentia, eliminata spurcitia, sacrarium
reparatum; legi ego scriptum quod in archivo ejusdem ecclesiæ continetur
index facti.” This certainly looks very much as if William had seen the
original of the charter, which records the reparation of the church
(“Dei adjutorio a me et a meis constat renovata”), and had put the story
at a wrong time. That this is so is almost proved by the date. Æthelred
could have had no time for church restoration between the Gemót of 1015
and his death in 1016. Between the massacre in 1002 and the date of the
charter in 1004, though the state of things was not very favourable for
such works, he had rather more time. The confusion between the two
stories was easy. Sigeferth and Morkere and their followers, though not
Danes in the same sense as the victims of Saint Brice, were almost
certainly of Danish descent.
In Florence we get the first touch of amplification in the general
story. The rest of the passage he merely translates, but the words
“ealle þa Deniscan men þa on Angelcynne wæron” become “omnes Danos
Angliam incolentes, majores et minores, _utriusque sexus_.” This is the
first hint of any slaughter of women, and it is confined to Danish
women.
William of Malmesbury directly mentions the massacre twice. The first
time (ii. 165) it comes in almost incidentally, in a rhetorical passage
about the character of Æthelred and the wretchedness of his reign. He
speaks of “Danos, quos levibus suspicionibus omnes uno die in tota
Anglia trucidari jusserat, ubi fuit videre miseriam, dum quisque
carissimos hospites, quos etiam arctissima necessitudo dulciores
effecerat, cogeretur prodere et amplexus gladio deturbare.” We begin
here to get a dim vision of Danes possessed of English wives or
mistresses. In the other passage (ii. 177) he describes the slaughter of
Pallig, Gunhild, and their son, which is again brought in incidentally,
as the moving cause of Swegen’s great invasion in 1013. Gunhild, “non
illepidæ formæ virago,” had given herself as a hostage on the conclusion
of peace with the Danes (“accepta Christianitate, obsidem se Danicæ
pacis fecerat”). She was beheaded by order of Eadric (“eam cum cæteris
Danis infaustus furor Edrici decapitari jusserat”), and, before her own
death, she had to see her husband killed in some undescribed way, and
her son, a promising lad, pierced with four spears (“occiso prius ante
ora marito, et filio, commodæ indolis puero, quattuor lanceis forato”).
I suspect, as I said in the text, that the notion of a massacre of
women, which we find even in Florence, arose out of this one tale of
Gunhild. In William of Jumièges (v. 6) we get some soul-harrowing
details;
“Edelredus, Anglorum rex, regnum, quod sub magna potentissimorum regum
gloria diu floruerat, tanto nefariæ proditionis scelere regiminis sui
tempore polluit, ut et pagani tam exsecrabile nefas horrendum
judicarent. Nam Danos per omne regnum unanimi concordia secum
cohabitantes, mortis periculum minime suspicantes, subito furore sub una
die perimi, mulieres quoque alvo tenus terræ esse defossas, et
ferocissimis canibus concitatis mamillas ab earum pectoribus crudeliter
extorqueri, lactentes vero pueros ad domorum postes allisos excerebrari
jussit, nullis criminum existentibus culpis.”
Here we have only Danish women and Danish children. In the Roman de Rou
(6352 et seqq.) we get the first hint of a massacre of English women. It
is not directly asserted, but it seems to be implied.
“En Engleterre erent Daneis
Cumunément od li Engleis,
Des Englesches fames perneient,
Filz et filles asez aveient.”
(vv. 6358–6361.)
Then we read an account of nearly the same horrors as in William of
Jumièges, with some improvements. The details of the throat-cutting are
given more minutely; we hear also of embowelling (“et as auquanz
esbueloent”), and not only dogs but bears are employed to tear off the
breasts of the women.
“Li dames è li dameseiles
Enfoient tresk ’as mameles,
Poiz amenoient li gainuns,
Ors enchaenez è brohuns,
Ki lur traient li cerveles
E desrumpeient li mameles.”
(vv. 6384–6389.)
In both accounts the destruction is all but complete; certain young men,
two or more—“quidam juvenes” in William of Jumièges, “douz valez” in
Wace—escape—according to William—in a ship which they found in the
Thames, and carry the news to King Swegen in Denmark.
We now turn to John of Wallingford, who died in 1214, and who (Gale, ii.
547) knows much more about the matter. The Danes were far from being
such comfortable neighbours to the English as they appear in the two
Norman accounts. They held all the chief towns and did much mischief;
“optima terræ municipia vel occupaverant vel præparaverant, et genti
terræ multas molestias inferebant.” But the chief evil was the way in
which they made themselves too agreeable to the English women. They took
great care of their persons; they changed their clothes often, they
combed their hair every day, and took a bath every Saturday; “habebant
ex consuetudine patriæ unoquoque die comam pectere, sabbatis balneare,
sæpe etiam vestituram mutare, et formam corporis multis talibus frivolis
adjuvare.” The consequence was that many English matrons broke their
marriage vows and many noble maidens became mistresses of Danes. Many
wars and confusions arose out of these and the other evil deeds of the
Danes, till it was settled that each province should get rid of its own
Danes; “ut quælibet provincia suos Danos occideret.” They were
accordingly all killed on Saturday, their bathing-day. John of
Wallingford does not mention the day of Saint Brice, but in 1002 that
festival would really fall on a Saturday. Here we get the destruction of
women and children; but they are now distinctly the English women who
had yielded to the seductions of the Danes and the children who were
born of these unlawful unions; “ipsas mulieres suas, quæ luxuriæ eorum
consenserant, et pueros, qui ex fœditate adulterii nati erant.” John of
Wallingford does not employ either dogs or bears for the torture of the
women; he is satisfied with cutting off their breasts; but those who had
their breasts cut off and those who were put in the ground—in Italian
phrase “planted”—now form two classes, while before there was only one;
“mammas quarumdam absciderunt, alias vivas terræ infoderunt.” The number
of young men who escape is raised to twelve.
I must now go back a generation or two to Henry of Huntingdon. He was
living in 1154, yet he seems to profess to get his information from
contemporaries—“de quo scelere in pueritia nostra quosdam vetustissimos
loqui audivimus.” Æthelred, according to his account (M. H. B. 752 A),
was puffed up with his marriage with Emma (“quo proventu rex Adelred in
superbiam elatus”), and so massacred the Danes. He sent letters secretly
to every town, ordering them to be put to death at one and the same
hour, which was done on Saint Brice’s day. Some were slain with the
sword, others were burned; “vel gladiis truncaverunt inpræmeditatos, vel
igne simul cremaverunt subito comprehensos.” There is no mention of
women, not even of Gunhild. This account of Henry of Huntingdon appears
in an abridged form in Æthelred of Rievaux (Gen. Regg. X Scriptt. 362),
who sarcastically adds that his royal namesake was “fortior solito,”
though directly after he calls him, seemingly in earnest, “rex
strenuissimus.”
Roger of Wendover (i. 444) transfers the story to the year 1012. In his
version Swegen is present in England at the time of the death of
Ælfheah; the tribute is paid; on its payment the Danes and English made
a league of brotherhood to have but one heart and one soul; Swegen goes
back to Denmark; then comes the massacre, on which Swegen comes back for
his last invasion. The instigator of the massacre was “Huna quidam,
regis Ethelredi militiæ princeps, vir strenuus et bellicosus.” The
relations between Danes and English women are here, as in John of
Wallingford, a chief ground of offence, but they take a somewhat
different form; “Dani ... per totam Angliam adeo invaluerant, quod
uxores virorum nobilium regni et filias violenter opprimere et ubique
ludibrio tradere præsumpserunt.” We hear nothing of the Saturday bath
and the other attractions of the Danes. Huna—a man who does not appear
in history, but of whom we shall hear again in romance—complains of this
state of things, and, by his advice, letters for a general massacre on
Saint Brice’s day are sent to all parts, much as in Henry of Huntingdon.
The Danes, “qui paullo ante cum Anglis, additio juramento, fuerant
confœderati ut pacifice cum illis habitarent,” are massacred; the women
too—what women we are not told—are killed with their children, but now
both are killed by being dashed against door-posts; “mulieres cum
parvulis ad postes domorum allisæ animas miserabiliter effuderunt.”
Young men (“quidam juvenes”) take the news to Swegen as before.
Immediately after this, Roger goes on to tell the story of Gunhild in a
form founded on that of William of Malmesbury, but with some
improvements. Not only Gunhild herself, but her husband and son are
hostages (“virago prudentissima, inter Danos et Anglos pacis mediatrix
exsistens, obsidem sese cum viro et unico quem habebat filio, Ethelredo
regi ad pacis securitatem dedit”), a thing plainly impossible in the
case of Pallig. William of Malmesbury had mentioned Eadric in connexion
with her death, probably because he looked on Eadric as the author of
the whole scheme of massacre. But, as Huna fills that post in Roger’s
story, Eadric becomes the special gaoler of Gunhild; “hæc quum fuisset a
rege Eadrico _duci_”—which he was in 1012, though not in 1002—“ad
custodiendum commissa.” Her death, by Eadric’s order, and that of Pallig
and their son, follow much as in William of Malmesbury.
Here is a good case of the growth of legend, but the growth of legend is
not all. It is easy to see from this last account that the massacre of
Saint Brice got mixed up with quite different stories belonging to quite
different dates, of which I shall have to speak again.
The massacre of Saint Brice may be compared with the two massacres of
the Goths recorded by Ammianus, xxxi. 16; Zôsimos, iv. 26, 27, v. 35.
The former, which was done “datis tectioribus litteris,” is distinctly
approved by both historians; they speak of the “consilium prudens” and
ἀγχινοία of Julius, the Eadric of the story, who took care that
Theodosius, unlike Æthelred, should not know of his scheme. The second
is a massacre of women and children.
NOTE HH. p. 322.
ULFCYTEL OF EAST-ANGLIA.
I have some doubt as to the formal position of Ulfcytel. The Latin
writers all give him titles equivalent to Earl or Ealdorman. In Florence
(1004) he is “magnæ strenuitatis dux East-Anglorum Ulfketel.” So Henry
of Huntingdon (M. H. B. 752 C) calls him “Wlfketel dux illius
provinciæ,” and William of Malmesbury (ii. 165) “comes Orientalium
Anglorum Ulfkillus.” But the Chronicles introduce him at this point
without any title, and though he signs several charters, as in this year
in Cod. Dipl. iii. 334, in 1005 (iii. 346), and in 1012 (iii. 358), he
uses no higher titles than “minister” and “miles.” On the other hand the
Chronicles, in recording his death in 1016, seem to call him Ealdorman
by implication; “Godwine ealdorman on Lindesige and Ulfcytel on
East-Anglum.” And, as we find him gathering the forces of the earldom
and summoning and consulting the local Witan, it is plain that he acted
with the full authority of an Ealdorman. It has sometimes struck me that
he may have been in some way a deputy of Æthelweard who died along with
him at Assandun, the son of the former Ealdorman Æthelwine. See Appendix
AA.
William of Malmesbury (u. s.) gives Ulfcytel the praise of being one who
“solus ex omnibus ... impigre contra invasores restitit.” He evidently
made a great impression on the Danes themselves. We see this, not only
from the passage in our own Chronicles quoted in p. 321, but from the
mention of him in the Sagas. They speak of him, as William of Malmesbury
does, by the contracted form Ulfkill or Ulfkell, as Thurcytel becomes
Thurkill. He bears the surname of Snilling, the Bold or Quick, and is
described in the Knytlinga Saga, c. 15 (Johnstone, 138), as “mikill
höfdingi.” His battle of Ringmere in 1010 (see p. 344) is there
strangely transferred to the war of Cnut and Eadmund in 1016. He appears
again in the Saga of Saint Olaf (Laing, ii. 11; Johnstone, 93), where
the battle of Ringmere is mixed up with the apocryphal and
unintelligible exploits of Olaf. It should be marked that East-Anglia is
called “Ulfkelsland,” just as our Chronicles talk of “Ricardes rice” and
“Baldwines land.” We meet him again in the Jomsvikinga Saga, c. 51
(Johnstone, 101), where he is described as ruler of the whole North of
England, and as married to Wulfhild daughter of King Æthelred (“Nordr
red fyrir Englandi Ulfkell Snillingr, hann átti Ulfhildi dottur Adalrads
konungs”). See Appendix SS.
NOTE II. p. 326.
THE RISE OF EADRIC.
I describe Eadric as I find him described in contemporary writers. I
fully admit that there is much in his character, actions, and general
position which is extremely puzzling; but I cannot undertake to be wise
above what is written, or to put a theory of my own in the place of the
unanimous witness of all our authorities. It has been ingeniously argued
that Eadric was simply a forerunner of Leofric, that he represents a
Mercian, therefore an intermediate, policy, which was misunderstood or
misrepresented by West-Saxon writers. But all our authorities,
West-Saxon as well as Mercian, agree in giving Leofric a very good
character; all our authorities, Mercian as well as West-Saxon, agree in
giving Eadric a very bad character. He has been called a “Trimmer,” and,
as such, he has been likened, not only to the Leofric of the generation
following his own, but to the Halifax of a much later age. The obvious
answer is that neither Leofric nor Halifax was ever charged with going
about murdering people in various parts of the kingdom. Now, as I have
already said (see p. 417), many of the particular crimes laid to the
charge of Eadric are open to much doubt; but the evident general belief
that, whenever any mischief was done, Eadric must have been the doer of
it, points to an universal estimate of his general character which
cannot have been mistaken.
The first mention of Eadric in the Chronicles is on his appointment to
the Ealdormanship of Mercia in 1007. He there comes in without any
notice of his character or parentage, but the opinion which the
Chroniclers had of him is shown plainly enough in other passages, as
when the death of Sigeferth and Morkere is described in 1015 and the
battle of Assandun in 1016. Florence first introduces him as “dolosus et
perfidus Edricus Streona,” in 1006, when he records the murder of
Ælfhelm. William of Malmesbury, as we have seen in the last Note,
attributes to him the murder of Gunhild in 1002, and perhaps the whole
plot for the destruction of the Danes. Florence gives a fuller character
of him in 1007, when recording his appointment as Ealdorman. It runs as
follows;
“Rex Edricum supra memoratum, Ægelrici filium, hominem humili quidem
genere, sed cui lingua divitias ac nobilitatem comparaverat, callentem
ingenio, suavem eloquio, et qui omnes id temporis mortales, tum invidia
atque perfidia, tum superbia et crudelitate, superavit, Merciorum
constituit ducem.”
These words of Florence seem to have been before William of Malmesbury,
when, in his general picture of the reign of Æthelred (ii. 165), after
speaking of the treasons of Ælfric, whom he confounds with the son of
Ælfhere, he goes on,
“Erat in talibus improbe idoneus Edricus, quem rex comitatui Merciorum
præfecerat; fæx hominum et dedecus Anglorum, flagitiosus helluo,
versutus nebulo, cui non nobilitas opes pepererat, sed lingua et audacia
comparaverat [“non” and “sed” are left out in some manuscripts, but they
are clearly needed to make up the sense]. Hic dissimulare cautus,
fingere paratus, consilia regis ut fidelis venabatur, ut proditor
disseminabat. Sæpe, ad hostes missus pacis mediator, pugnam accendit.
Cujus perfidia, quum crebro hujus regis tempore, tum vel maxime
sequentis apparuit.”
Henry of Huntingdon too, whose authority is of the most varying degrees
of value, but who always represents an independent tradition, says (M.
H. B. 752 E), in recording Eadric’s appointment to the ealdormanship,
“Dei providentia ad perniciem Anglorum factus est Edricus dux super
Merce, proditor novus sed maximus.”
The surname of Streona comes, as we have just seen, from Florence.
Eadric also appears as _Heinrekr_ or _Airekr_ Strióna in Snorro
(Johnstone, 98), and in another Saga (101), where we are astounded at
finding him made a brother of Emma. (The name _Henry_, in any of its
forms, is hardly English, but we find in Cod. Dipl. iii. 87 a “Heanric
minister,” perhaps one of the Old-Saxons favoured by Eadgar.) In Orderic
too (506 B) a later Eadric is said to be “nepos Edrici pestiferi ducis
cognomento Streone, id est _acquisitoris_.” The nickname evidently
alludes to his great accumulations of property.
To trace Eadric and his father Æthelric by the charters is not easy, as
neither name is uncommon. Thus we find in Cod. Dipl. iii. 304, a will of
a certain Æthelric in Essex, made in 997, in which an Eadric is
mentioned, who however seems not to be his son but his tenant. This
Æthelric lay under suspicion of treasonable dealings with Swegen at the
time of his first invasion in 994 (“ðam kincge wæs gesæd ðæt he wǽre on
ðám unrǽde, ðæt man sceolde on Eást-Sexon Swegen underfón ða he ǽrest
þyder mid flotan com”). See Cod. Dipl. iii. 314, a document which the
combined signatures of Archbishop Ælfric (see p. 292) and Ealdorman
Leofsige (see p. 313) fix to some date between 995 and 1002. Another
Æthelric distinguished himself in quite an opposite way in the same part
of the world, for he appears as one of the heroes of Maldon (see Thorpe,
Analecta, p. 139). This last is probably the Æthelric “minister” and
“miles,” who signs many charters from 987 to 1006 (see Cod. Dipl. iii.
228–351). In the last charter, if it be genuine, he describes himself as
“the old”—“Æðelric ealda trywe gewitnys.” This is not unlikely to be the
Æthelric who appears as a legatee in the will of Wulfric Spot, Cod.
Dipl. vi. 148. Then there are one or more churchmen of the name, who,
with the titles of “clericus,” “diaconus,” and “monachus” sign a vast
number of documents of Archbishop Oswald and his successor Ealdwulf from
977 to 996 (Cod. Dipl. iii. 159–296), and one of whom possibly goes on
till 1017 (see Cod. Dipl. vi. 177). I almost suspect that it is in one
of these clerical Æthelrics that we are to look for the father of
Eadric. It is certain that, among the many persons to whom Archbishop
Oswald grants Church lands on the usual terms for three lives, three
separate grants are made to a Thegn of his named Eadric. See Cod. Dipl.
iii. 164, 216, 241. The dates are 977, 985, 988. May not these be the
beginnings of the traitor? An Eadric also appears in Cod. Dipl. iii.
293, and another in vi. 127; but the latter at least is not our Eadric,
as he was dead before 993.
The first signature which seems likely to be that of the future
Ealdorman is one in 1001 (Cod. Dipl. iii. 317) as “Eadric minister.” He
signs many charters by that title, including two (vi. 143) in company
with a namesake of the same rank. In 1007 (vi. 157, 159) he of course
begins to sign as “dux.” The charter of 1004 (vi. 151) where he appears
as “dux” cannot be genuine, as King Æthelred, Archbishop Æthelnoth, and
Ealdorman Brihtnoth are made to sign together. Lappenberg also (431,
note 2. The passage is left out in Mr. Thorpe’s translation) quotes a
charter of Eadgar in 970 (Cod. Dipl. iii. 56) as containing the
signatures of Eadric and most of his brothers. But it is quite
impossible that this can be our Eadric. Mr. Kemble marks the Latin
version, in which alone the signatures occur, as spurious. The English
version, which he accepts, has no signatures.
That Eadric rose to power by the fall of Wulfgeat is nowhere said in so
many words; but the confiscation of the goods of Wulfgeat and the first
mention of Eadric are put by Florence significantly near to one another.
Wulfgeat signs a great many charters from 986 to 1005 (Cod. Dipl. iii.
224–345 and vi. 154). But he nowhere appears with any higher title than
“minister,” except in one document of 996 (Cod. Dipl. vi. 136) where he
appears as “dux.” I suspect that Wulfgeat, as well as Eadric, rose in
the beginning through the favour of Archbishop Oswald. At least Oswald
grants lands in Worcestershire to a knight of his of that name (“sumum
cnihte ðám is Wulfgeat noma,” Cod. Dipl. iii. 259). This was in the
reign of Eadward. The confiscation of Wulfgeat’s goods is recorded in
the Chronicles for 1006 without remark; “And on þam ilcan geare wæs
Wulfgeate eall his ár óngenumen.” Florence says, “Rex Ægelredus
Wlfgeatum Leovecæ filium, quem pene omnibus plus dilexerat, propter
injusta judicia et superba quæ gesserat opera, possessionibus omnique
honore privavit.” There is also a charter of 1006 (Cod. Dipl. vi. 160),
in which we find a notice of Wulfgeat as marrying one Ælfgifu the widow
of Ælfgar (was this Ælfgar the son of Ælfric?) and as holding some lands
which had been taken by Ælfgar from the monastery of Abingdon. His wife
is described as sharing both in his crimes and in his fall; “Qui ambo
crimine pessimo juste ab omni incusati sunt populo caussa suæ
machinationis propriæ, de qua modo non est dicendum per singula, propter
quam vero machinationem quæ injuste adquisierunt omnia juste
perdiderunt.” Another charter of 1015 (Cod. Dipl. vi. 169) is more
express. In this Æthelred grants to Brihtwold the Bishop of the diocese
(who succeeded in the year of Wulfgeat’s disgrace), the lands of
Wulfgeat at Chilton in Berkshire (“illo in loco ubi solicolæ appellativo
usu Cildatun nominant”). Here we read, “Nam quidam minister Wulfget
vulgari relatu nomine præfatam terram aliquando possederat; sed quia
inimicis regis se in insidiis socium applicavit, et in facinore
inficiendi etiam legis satisfactio ei defecit, ideo hæreditatis suberam
penitus amisit, et ex ea prænominatus episcopus præscriptam villulam, me
concedente, suscepit.” The estate was not given to the see, but to
Brihtwold personally, with power to bequeath it. I cannot identify
Wulfgeat’s father, which makes it the more probable that he was, like
Eadric, a man of low birth.
The appointment of Eadric to the Mercian ealdormanship in 1007 is
distinct in all the Chronicles and in Florence. His marriage with the
King’s daughter Eadgyth took place before 1009, when Florence speaks of
him as the Kings son-in-law, “gener ejus, habuit enim in conjugio filiam
ejus Edgitham.” His elevation to the ealdormanship is the most natural
date for the marriage. There may perhaps be some reference to this
marriage in the wonderful declamation of Walter Map against Æthelred (De
Nugis, 202). He charges him with systematically preferring slaves to
freemen, and giving the daughters of nobles to “rustici,” that is, in
the language of his day, villains. By “servi” and “rustici” he most
likely means merely ceorls. “Superbus servi oculus et insatiabile cor in
ipsius beneplacito ministrabat.”
NOTE KK. p. 329.
THE SUCCESSION OF THE NORTHUMBRIAN EARLS.
I did not come across Mr. Robertson’s “Scotland under Early Kings” till
the greater part of the first edition of my first volume was printed. I
had therefore no opportunity, till towards the end of the volume, of
making any use of his excellent note on the _Danelage_ (ii. 430), which
is one of the best parts of his work. The history of Northumberland from
the ninth century onwards is there traced out with greater clearness and
probability than I have ever seen it dealt with elsewhere. His great
point, which he seems to me fully to establish, is, that at the great
conquest of Northumberland in Ælfred’s time, Deira only was actually
divided and occupied by the Danes, while Bernicia, into whatever degree
of subjection it may have been brought to the Danish power, still
remained occupied by Englishmen, and under the immediate government of
English rulers. The local nomenclature, as Mr. Robertson shows, bears
out this view, and it also explains the otherwise puzzling fact that
that part of old Northumberland which is quite away from the Humber has
kept the name of Northumberland to this day, an usage which certainly
began as early as the eleventh century (see Chron. Wig. 1065 and Sim.
Dun. 80). Indeed Simeon (147) distinguishes “Eboracum” and “Northimbri”
as early as 883; but he is doubtless using the language of his own time,
as he is not following the earlier Northumbrian Chronicle. With these
Anglian rulers of Bernicia I have no concern till the Commendation of
924, when the “son of Eadwulf,” and again in 926 “Ealdred Eadulfing,”
appears among the princes who submitted to Æthelstan. Ealdred’s son was
Oswulf, who signs two charters of Eadred in 949 as lord of Bamburgh,
“Osulf ad bebb. hehgr̃” (Cod. Dipl. ii. 292), and “Osulf bebb.” (ii.
296). The abbreviation “hehgr̃” stands, according to Mr. Robertson, for
_heah-gerefa_. And I can certainly suggest nothing better, though it is
strange to find so purely ministerial a title applied to one who seems
to have been rather a vassal prince than a mere magistrate. In 954, on
the final conquest of Northumberland by Eadred, Oswulf seems to have
exchanged this infinitesimal kind of kingship for the earldom over both
provinces. See Sim. Dun. 204, who goes on to mention the division of the
two earldoms between Oswulf and Oslac; “Qui [Osulfus] postea regnante
Eadgaro socium accepit Oslacum. Deinde Osulfus ad aquilonalem plagam
Tinæ, Oslac vero super Eboracum et ejus fines curas administrabat.” The
appointment of Oslac is noticed by three of the Chronicles in the year
966, and his banishment in 975 is recorded in prose and lamented in
verse. The next Earl was Waltheof, who seems to have been a son of
Oswulf, and I gather from the words of Simeon (204)—“His [Osulfo et
Oslaco] successit “Walthef senior””—that he again held both earldoms.
But they must have been again dismembered at some time before 993, when
Ælfhelm, who had signed as “minister” in 985 (Cod. Dipl. vi. 121),
begins to sign as “dux” (iii. 271). An earlier signature as “Comes” in
990 (iii. 251) is doubtful. Cf. iii. 253. In 997 (iii. 304) he signs as
“Norðanhumbrensium provinciarum dux.” The only signature of Waltheof
himself that I know of is one of “Wælðeof dux” in 994 (iii. 280). That
Uhtred (p. 329) held both earldoms on the deposition of his father and
the murder of Ælfhelm seems plain from the words of Simeon (80), “Rex
Ethelredus, vocato ad se juvene præfato, vivente adhuc patre Waltheof,
pro merito suæ strenuitatis et bello quod tam viriliter peregerat, dedit
ei comitatum patris sui, adjungens etiam Eboracensem comitatum.” This
last was evidently the earldom made void by the death of Ælfhelm.
The death of Uhtred and the bestowal of the Northumbrian earldom on Eric
the Dane by Cnut I have mentioned at pp. 379, 524. Mr. Robertson (i. 95,
ii. 442) seems to confine the Northumbrian government of Eric to Deira,
while he extends his frontier southward as far as Watling-Street. But
the fourfold division of England implies that Eric ruled over all
Northumberland. On the other hand, Simeon (81), speaking in his own
person (see Stubbs, Preface to R. Howden, i. xxx), in a marked way
confines the government of Ealdred, the successor of Eadwulf, to
Bernicia. “Aldredus, quem prædictus comes Ucthredus genuerat ex Ecfrida
Alduni episcopi filia, ... _solius Northumbriæ_ comitatum suscepit,
patrisque sui interfectorem interfecit Turebrandum.” “Northumbria,” it
will be seen, is here used in the most modern sense. The obvious
inference is that Eadwulf ruled at first in Bernicia only and under the
superiority of Eric, but that, on Eric’s banishment, he succeeded to the
government of all Northumberland immediately under the King. Simeon
gives us no dates, and Siward’s accession to Deira may have followed the
death of Eadwulf Cutel. Everything looks as if the reign of Ealdred was
very short.
One question remains as to Thored, who signs as “dux” in 979, 983, and
988 (Cod. Dipl. iii. 171, 198, 237), and in the Chronicles (992) is
distinguished as “Þored _eorl_” from “Ælfric _ealdorman_.” He was
therefore in all probability Earl of Deira or Yorkshire (see Robertson,
ii. 441). He is doubtless the same as Thored the son of Gunner, who,
according to the Chronicles, harried Westmorland in 966, and, according
to some accounts (see below, Note SS), he was the father of Æthelred’s
first wife. He was no doubt succeeded by Ælfhelm in 993, and he must
himself have been appointed as early as 979. Mr. Robertson conjectures
that he succeeded on the banishment of Oslac in 975. But we have seen
that Waltheof then succeeded to both earldoms. My conjecture therefore
is that the two earldoms were again separated on the accession of
Æthelred, Deira being given to Thored. If Æthelred really married
Thored’s daughter, this is still more likely.
There can be no doubt that _Eorl_ (see p. 407) is the proper title of a
governor of Deira (see Cod. Dipl. ii. 293, and the Laws of Eadgar,
Schmid, 198). But the Chronicles do not always observe the distinction.
The pointed marking out of Thored as “eorl” and Ælfric as “ealdorman” is
an unusual piece of accuracy, and though Oslac, when his banishment in
975 is recorded, is called “se mæra eorl,” yet his appointment in 966 is
expressed by the words “feng to ealdordome.”
NOTE LL. p. 339.
THE ASSESSMENT OF 1008.
The Abingdon and Peterborough Chronicles for 1008 have, “Hér bebead se
cyng þæt mán sceolde ofer eall Angelcyn scypu fæstlice wyrcan; þæt is
ðonne; of þrim hund hidum and óf tynum ænne scegð, and of viii hidum
helm and byrnan.”
So Florence; “Rex Anglorum Ægelredus de cccx cassatis unam trierem, de
novem vero loricam et cassidem fieri, et per totam Angliam naves intente
præcepit fabricari.” So Henry of Huntingdon (M. H. B. 753 A) and
Lappenberg, ii. 170.
But the Worcester Chronicle (Cott. Tib. B. iv.) reads “of þrym hund
scipum and x bé tynum anne scægð.” I quote Mr. Earle’s note, without
confidently pledging myself to his interpretation, further than that I
feel sure that the assessment must have been made by shires in some
shape or other. If anything else were needed to prove it, the bequest of
Ælfric so appositely quoted by Mr. Earle, and which I have not scrupled
to mention in the text, would alone be enough.
“In this rating of land for raising a navy, the numbers are so
unconformable to the statistical numbers preserved elsewhere, and so
incommensurate with each other, that they must be received with
suspicion. All the texts agree, except D [the Worcester Chronicle],
which, of all extant texts, is probably the nearest to the source. In
the confusion of the text of D, may possibly be found materials for a
future emendation.
“But, taken at its worst, the annal is rich in interest. We learn the
curious fact, that it was incumbent on each of the landed subdivisions,
to provide the king with a ship and its armour. The government did not
levy ship-money, but required each county to find its quota of ships.
This would apply as well to the inland districts, as to those on the
sea-board. And here we find the explanation of an otherwise inexplicable
bequest of good Abp. Ælfric, who died two years before this date. He
gave one ship to the folk of Kent, and one to Wiltshire. The will is in
Cod. Dipl. 716 [iii. 351]. Doubtless, in each of the cases, the bequest
was intended as an alleviation of the heavy imposts under which the
people groaned. His gift being to the shire, is an argument that the
assessment was by shires. It appears to me probable that each shire had
to furnish one ship for every three _Hundreds_ contained in the shire.
Thus a shire containing thirty Hundreds would have to furnish ten ships.
(Accordingly, D may be right: of þrym hund scipum: ? = of three
Hundreds—=Hundertschaften=.) This burden would fall on the whole body of
the people, according to their rating. But the wealthy landowners had a
special burden besides. He who had property up to or over the extent of
ten hides, would have to furnish a _scegð_—and every thane under ten
hides, had to furnish a helmet and breastplate.”
The _scegð_, according to Mr. Earle and Dr. Schmid, seems to be a
smaller kind of vessel. It is a pity that even Florence was so far
carried away by the wish to appear classical as to talk about triremes,
instead of using words which might express the different kinds of
vessels spoken of.
On Mr. Earle’s showing, the special imposts laid on the great landowners
would exactly answer to the Attic λειτουργίαι. But it tells somewhat
against his interpretation that both Florence and Henry of Huntingdon
follow the reading of the other manuscripts. In any case I must confess
that I do not clearly understand about the helm and breastplate.
NOTE MM. p. 343.
WULFNOTH OF SUSSEX.
Most writers assume that “Wulfnoth Child the South-Saxon,” as he is
called in all the Chronicles, was at once the nephew of Eadric and the
father of Earl Godwine. These questions I shall discuss in a later Note,
specially devoted to the origin of the Earl. I will only say here that
it seems to me that, whoever was the father of Godwine, Florence did not
intend to identify the Wulfnoth who, he says, was nephew to Eadric, with
Child Wulfnoth the South-Saxon.
That Brihtric, the accuser of Wulfnoth, was a brother of Eadric rests on
the authority of all the Chronicles. They all call him “Brihtric,
Eadrices broðor ealdormannes.” Florence gives him the character of being
“homo lubricus, ambitiosus, et superbus,” and adds that the accusation
was unjust. He had also just before given the following list of the
brothers of Eadric or sons of Æthelric; “cujus fratres exstiterunt
Brihtricus, Ælfricus, Goda, Ægelwinus, Ægelwardus, Ægelmærus, pater
Wlnothi, patris West-Saxonum ducis Godwini.” The charters are full—take
for instance Cod. Dipl. iii. 355 and vi. 164, 166—of signatures which
may be the signatures of those brothers. But all the names are common,
except perhaps Goda, unless it be a short form of Godric or Godwine. For
instance, one charter in Cod. Dipl. iii. 345, 346 is signed by three
distinct Brihtrics, all with the rank of “minister.” In one place (iii.
351), if the document be genuine, “Byrhtríc cinges þegen gewitnys” signs
between Eadric and one who may be their father (see above, p. 656). In
vi. 155 we have a “Bríhtric reáda” in Dorsetshire, and in the Chronicles
(1017) a “Brihtric Ælfehes suna on Defenascire,” who may be the same as
the Brihtric of Dorset, but who is of course different from the brother
of Eadric. Of Æthelweards we find several in the early days of Cnut. It
seems in vain to try to make out anything more about the family; except
that, according to Orderic (506 B), Eadric the Wild, so famous sixty
years later, was Eadric’s nephew or grandson—“nepos Edrici pestiferi
ducis.”
The title of “cild” or “child” given to Wulfnoth is a puzzling one.
Florence translates it by “minister,” as if it were the same as Thegn;
Henry of Huntingdon by “puer nobilis.” It is found in one other place
only in the Chronicles, namely in 1074, where it is applied to the
younger Eadgar, as if it were the same as Æðeling. We have seen it (see
above, p. 641) as the title of one of the Ælfrics, who in English is
“cild” and in Latin “cognomento Puer.” Several men bear the title in
Domesday, as “Alnod cilt” (2 et al.), Eadwine, miscalled Godwine, Abbot
of Westminster (146), Edward “cilt,” a man of Earl Harold (146, 148,
212, 336b, 340), and several others, Brixi, Eadwig, Leofric, Leofwine,
and others, whom I do not profess to identify. See Ellis, ii. 68. In a
deed of Bishop Ælfwold T. R. E. in Cod. Dipl. vi. 196, we find the
signature of a “Dodda cild” (see vol. ii. Appendix G), seemingly a
kinsman of Earl Odda. From all these examples, and from the later use of
the word, “Childe Waters” and the like, one would think that “cild” was
in some way or other a title of honour, though it is not at all easy to
see exactly what it implied in the way of rank or office. On the other
hand we find an Æthelric (Æilricus) “cild,” as also an Eadwine “cniht,”
among the inferior tenants of Battle Abbey. Chron. de Bello, 14, 15.
The story of Wulfnoth, as well as his personality, is puzzling. We hear
nothing of the nature of the charge against him or of the punishment
which seems to have been designed for him. In the Chronicles we simply
read that the accusation was brought and that Wulfnoth took to flight
and began to plunder. Florence says “ne caperetur, mox fugam iniit.”
Henry of Huntingdon, who does not mention the charge brought by
Brihtric, says “Rex exsulaverat Wlnod.” So William of Malmesbury (ii.
165), who brings the story in only casually, in his general picture of
the reign of Æthelred. He says nothing of the flight of Wulfnoth or the
pursuit of Brihtric. He mentions the storm and adds, “Paucæ de reliquiis
multarum factæ, impetu cujusdam Wulnodi, quem rex exlegatum ejecerat,
submersæ vel incensæ.” Nor have we the least hint given as to whither
Wulfnoth went, or what he did, after he had burned the hundred ships. He
may have joined the Danes or have done anything else in the wiking line;
I cannot believe that he went and lived quietly in Gloucestershire. In
this uncertainty, modern writers seem to have thought that they had full
licence to give play to their imaginations, and the results are
remarkable. Mr. St. John for instance and M. de Bonnechose display a
minute knowledge of the actions and motives of all parties which
certainly cannot be got by the dull process of groping in the
Chronicles. Let us hear Mr. St. John (Four Conquests, ii. 21);
“About the vicious and bewildered king, the earl of Mercia and his
brethren clung like the fabled serpents about Laocoon. They were seven
in all—Edric, Brihtric, Elfric, Goda, Ethelwine, Ethelward, and
Ethelmere—and between them was incessantly carried on a reckless
struggle for pre-eminence. Being all desirous of monopolizing the favour
of Ethelred, they plotted against each other, and pursued their designs
with relentless vindictiveness.
“Ethelmere, the youngest of the brothers, had a son, Wulfnoth, who for
his courage and capacity had been made Childe of the South-Saxons, a
post of great honour and distinction. This excited rancorous envy in the
breast of his uncle Brihtric, who, in order to compass his overthrow,
accused him of treason to the king. Familiar with the cruel and
capricious temper of Ethelred, the young earl effected his escape from
London.”
The French writer, M. Emile de Bonnechose (Quatre Conquêtes de
l’Angleterre, ii. 17), is almost more remarkable than Mr. St. John. “De
nouvelles défections anéantirent bientôt les forces navales des
Anglo-Saxons: un de leurs chefs, nommé Wulnoth, père du fameux comte
Godwin, prit la fuite avec vingt vaisseaux. Britric, commandant de la
flotte, poursuivit le fugitif.” No hint whatever _why_ Wulfnoth fled.
Presently (ii. 56) we read of “le service que ce Wulnoth rendit au roi
Sweyn en lui livrant une partie de la flotte qu’il commandait et en
brûlant le reste,” events of which the Chronicles preserve no mention
whatever. More amazing than all, Wulfnoth is elsewhere described (ii.
54) as “_churl_ ou _chef_ des Saxons du sud,” much as if one were to
talk of a man being “Roturier or Duke of Montmorency.”
NOTE NN. p. 344.
THURKILL THE DANE.
This name, like many others, appears in a fuller form in England than in
Denmark. The English bearers of it, all doubtless of Danish descent, are
always called Thurcytel. The famous Dane himself always appears, whether
in Latin, English, or Danish, in a shortened form, Thurkill or something
like it, in various spellings.
Our Thurkill comes before us in very different lights in different
accounts. In the Chronicles we first hear of him as commanding the fleet
which came in 1009. The three Chronicles all agree in saying that soon
after Lammas an innumerable fleet came to Sandwich (“þá cóm sona æfter
lafmæssam [“hlammessan,” Petrib.] se úngemætlica únfrið here to
Sandwic”), but Abingdon alone adds “þe we heton Ðurkilles here.”
Florence distinguishes the fleet of Thurkill from the fleet of Heming
and Eglaf (“Danicus comes Turkillus sua cum classe ad Angliam venit:
exinde mense Augusto alia classis Danorum innumerabilis, cui præerant
duces Hemingus et Eglafus,” &c.). But the two fleets meet in Thanet and
sail together to Sandwich. We then hear no more of Thurkill by name till
1013, but it is plain that all the ravages done up to Swegen’s invasion
in that year were done by “Ðurkilles here.” In 1013 (see p. 360) we
suddenly find him on the English side. He is in London with Æthelred
(“forðan þær wæs inge sé cyng Æþelred and Þurcyl mid him”), and directly
after (see p. 361) we find him and Æthelred together in the fleet in the
Thames. This makes it plain that the forty-five ships which went over to
Æthelred in 1012 (see p. 356) were Thurkill’s ships or a part of them.
It was plainly then that he changed sides. We hear of his fleet again in
1014, when a Danegeld was paid to it (see p. 371); and again in 1015,
when Eadric seduced “_the_ forty ships from the King’s service” (“Eadric
ealdorman aspeon _þa_ fowertig scipa fram þam cyningc”). But Thurkill’s
name is not mentioned again till 1017 (see p. 407) when Cnut gives him
one of the four great Earldoms, namely East-Anglia. In 1020 (see p. 426)
he appears along with Cnut at the consecration on Assandun; in 1021 (see
p. 428) he is outlawed; in 1023 (see p. 429) he is reconciled to the
King and seems to become his lieutenant in Denmark, but we hear no more
of him in England.
Florence mentions Thurkill whenever he is mentioned in the Chronicles,
except in the account of his reconciliation with Cnut, which appears in
the Abingdon Chronicle only. He makes matters somewhat plainer about
“the forty ships” in 1015, saying that Eadric “de regia classe xl naves,
Danicis militibus instructas, sibi allexit.” He also, in recording
Thurkill’s banishment in 1021, adds the name of his wife; “Canutus
rex ... Turkillum supra dictum comitem cum uxore sua Edgitha expulit
Anglia.” It should be noticed that neither in the Chronicles nor in
Florence is there any mention of Thurkill during the wars of Cnut and
Eadmund in 1016.
As for the charters we can hardly expect to find him signing during the
reign of Æthelred. In Cnut’s time, 1018–1019, we find him signing as
“dux” (Cod. Dipl. iv. 1, 3, 6, 9). His signature to the document of
Healðegen Scearpa in 1026 (Cod. Dipl. iv. 32) is more puzzling, as it
would imply a return of Thurkill to England, of which there is no other
trace. But that document, though not marked doubtful or spurious by Mr.
Kemble, seems to me most suspicious. Godwine signs as “þegen,” but
before all the Earls, and the Earls who sign are Siward, Ælfgar,
Thurkill, Leofric, Swegen, Tostig, and Eadred. I cannot identify any
Earls Ælfgar and Swegen in the time of Cnut, and the Tostig of those
days (see Note WWW) is a half-mythical person. It is very doubtful too
(see Note CCC) whether Leofric was an Earl so early as 1026, and Siward
seems not to have been an Earl till Harthacnut’s time. I cannot help
thinking that an unskilful forger adapted the names from some charter of
Eadward, and that Swegen and Tostig are the sons of Godwine moved out of
their places. I do not think that we can bring Thurkill back to England
without some better evidence than this. We must also take care to
distinguish Earl Thurkill from several contemporary Thurkills of lesser
degree. There is, for instance, a “Ðurkill minister” who signs in 1023
(iv. 27), and a Thurkill the White (“Ðurcil hwíta”) who figures in a
private document at iv. 54. He goes into Herefordshire on the King’s
errand along with Tofig the Proud. Of another Thurkill, or the same,
there is a long story in the Ramsey History, c. 84.
William of Malmesbury seems to have a special dislike to Thurkill. He
mentions him only twice (ii. 176, 181), and both times charges him with
being the chief instigator of the murder of Ælfheah, which, from the
better authority of Thietmar (see Note PP), we know that he tried to
hinder. The first passage runs thus;
“Resederat in Anglia Turkillus Danus, qui fuerat incentor ut lapidaretur
archiepiscopus, habebatque Orientales Anglos suæ voluntati parentes. Tam
cæteri, dato ab Anglis octo millium librarum tributo, per urbes et
agros, quo quisque commodius poterat, dilapsi: _quindecim_ eorum naves
cum hominibus regis fidem sequutæ. Turkillus interea regem patriæ suæ
Suanum nuntiis accersit ut Angliam veniat.”
This is followed by a rhetorical description, put into Thurkill’s mouth,
of the vices and weakness of Æthelred and of England. Here are several
manifest misstatements; besides the misrepresentation as to the death of
Ælfheah, nothing is plainer than that Thurkill, who stood by Æthelred to
the last, did not invite Swegen into England. The only question is
whether any trace of truth lurks in the words which seem to attribute to
Thurkill a settlement in East-Anglia earlier than his investiture with
that earldom by Cnut. The other passage is equally unfair. The removal
of Thurkill from England is thus described; “Succedente tempore
Turkillus et Iricius, ab Anglia captatis occasionibus eliminati, natale
solum petierunt; quorum primus, qui incentor necis beati Elfegi fuerat,
statim ut Danemarchiæ littus attigit a ducibus oppressus est.” This last
statement is directly contradicted by the Chronicles; but it shows us
where William of Malmesbury got his notion of Thurkill, namely from the
two tracts of Osbern on the martyrdom of Ælfheah and his Translation. In
the latter (Anglia Sacra, i. 144) we get a wonderful account of
Thurkill. He is “male audax princeps malorum Thyrkyllus, pauco tempore
prædo futurus, sed in æternum damnati spiritus præda mansurus”—a hard
fate for the co-founder of Assandun and benefactor of Saint Eadmund’s.
He remains in England after the death of Ælfheah, but presently Cnut
comes, seemingly on the errand of getting rid of Thurkill and his
followers (“Cnut ... diffidens ab illo propter quasdam res male ac
perfide actas, quidquid residuum infandi populi esse poterat, sicut
tabulæ stilo deleri solent, delevit, ipsumque ducem sex tantummodo
navibus munitum in Danamarcam fugavit”). Thurkill goes to Denmark; being
suspected of a design to stir up civil wars, he is hunted down and
killed, and his body is left unburied (“ne intestina bella moliretur,
statim per cuncta regionis illius loca agitatus, ad ultimum ab ignobili
vulgo occisus, ferisque et avibus est miserabiliter projectus”). This is
plainly the source whence William of Malmesbury got his account of
Thurkill’s death; still he knew the history too well to accept Osbern’s
introduction of Thurkill (ii. 131) as at first a joint commander with
Swegen, and then, after Swegen’s death, his successor (“piratæ ...
ducibus Swano et Thurkyllo, principibus Danorum fortissimis, nonnullam
terræ Anglorum maculam intulerant. Sed Swano ab omnipotenti Deo
terribiliter occiso, Thyrkillus malignæ hæreditatis principatum sortitus
est”). Osbern evidently looked on Thurkill as the author of all evil,
but he does not again mention him by name. It is worth thinking whether
William of Malmesbury’s notion of Thurkill’s settlement in East-Anglia
at this time arose from any confusion with the partition which,
according to Osbern (see Note PP), was to be made between Eadric and the
Danes.
William of Malmesbury’s statement that Thurkill invited Swegen into
England probably comes from some confusion with the narrative of the
Encomiast. This last writer makes (i. 2) Thurkill go to England by
Swegen’s leave to avenge the death of a brother who had been killed
there, perhaps in the massacre of Saint Brice. But, once in England, he
goes over to the English side, and seemingly obtains some establishment
in the country (“meridianam partem provinciæ victor obtinet”). One main
object of Swegen’s expedition is said to be to win back, by force or
persuasion, Thurkill himself and the forty ships of which he has
defrauded his sovereign. We hear however nothing more of him till Swegen
is dead. When Cnut goes back to Denmark, Thurkill stays in England (ii.
1). His motives are described at length. He then (ii. 3) goes to Cnut
with nine ships, leaving thirty in England, to make his peace with him
(“memor quod Sueino fecerat, et quod tunc in terra absque licentia
domini sui Cnutonis inconsulte remanserat, cum novem navibus earumque
exercitu dominum suum requisivit, ut ei patefaceret quia non contra ejus
salutem se recedente remanserit”), and to exhort him to a renewed
invasion of England. Cnut accordingly comes, and Thurkill is his right
hand man throughout the war with Eadmund.
I do not know whether our Thurkill is the same as “Þorkell Hasi,”
brother of Heming and son of Earl Strut-Harold, who accompanies Cnut to
England in the Knytlinga Saga, c. 8 (Johnstone, 105). This may be the
Heming of Florence, 1009.
The history of Thurkill in our Chronicles seems to hang very well
together. Patching it up from Thietmar, I infer that he embraced
Christianity before the death of Ælfheah, which he strove to hinder. He
then took service under Æthelred, and served him faithfully against
Swegen. But I do not know how to cast aside the assertion of the
Encomiast that Thurkill was prominent on Cnut’s side during the war with
Eadmund. Fabulous as are many of the details, this can hardly be mere
invention. He may have changed sides when Eadric beguiled the Danes in
the English service in 1015 (see above, p. 376), or after Æthelred’s
death, at the Southampton election of Cnut.
Thurkill married (see Florence, 1021) an Englishwoman named Eadgyth.
Lappenberg (ii. 197, 207) makes her the widow of Ulfcytel, therefore a
daughter of Æthelred. But the name of Ulfcytel’s wife seems to have been
Wulfhild (see above, p. 654, and Lappenberg, ii. 168), while Eadgyth the
daughter of Æthelred was certainly the wife of Eadric. I suspect that it
was Eadric’s widow whom Thurkill married. At the same time I cannot lay
my hand on any authority for Thurkill’s wife being a daughter of
Æthelred; but it is very likely, and such a connexion would account for
Cnut’s jealousy of him (see p. 415).
NOTE OO. p. 347.
WULFRIC SPOT.
Wulfric appears in the Chronicles simply as “Wulfric Leofwines sunu”
without any further description. So in Florence he is simply “Wlfricus
Leofwini filius.” He signs a charter of 1002 (Cod. Dipl. vi. 146) as
“minister.” In the confirmation of his will by Æthelred (Cod. Dipl. iii.
332) he is described as “nobilis progeniei minister Wlfricus.” He and
all the other men who were slain at Ringmere all come in the Chronicles
under the head of “feala oðera godra þegna.” I should infer from this
that he never held the rank of Ealdorman; but he is called “consul” by
Henry of Huntingdon (M. H. B. 753 C) and Bromton (X Scriptt. 888). So
the Burton _Chronicle_ printed in the Monasticon, iii. 47, calls him
“illustris et præpotens consul ac comes Merciorum Wulfricus Spott regali
propinquus prosapiæ.” The Burton _Annals_ however (Luard, Ann. Mon. i.
183) are satisfied with calling him “quidam nobilis nomine Wlfricus
cognomento Spot.” He cannot possibly have been Ealdorman of all Mercia,
and if he were a subordinate Ealdorman of one of the shires in which his
property lay, he could hardly fail to have been somewhere spoken of as
“dux” or “comes.” Sir Francis Palgrave (ii. ccxciii.) suggests that he
was Ealdorman of Lancaster, on the strength of his possession of lands
between the Ribble and the Mersey. This comes from his will, which is
printed in Cod. Dipl. vi. 147. But Lancashire, as a shire, is later than
Domesday. The lands between Mersey and Ribble appear there as an
appendage to Cheshire, while Lancaster is in Yorkshire. Wulfric’s lands
between the Ribble and the Mersey are left to Ælfhelm and Wulfheah, no
doubt the murdered Ealdorman and his son, to both of whom other bequests
are made as well as to Ælfhelm’s other son Ufegeat. A little way on, he
leaves lands “Ælfhelme mínan meáge,” and he afterwards speaks of
“Ælfhelm mín bróðor.” This may raise some question as to whether he is
speaking of one Ælfhelm or more.
Sir Francis Palgrave (ii. ccxci.) makes Wulfric the son of the person
called Leofric the Second, brother of Ealdorman Leofwine and uncle of
the famous Earl Leofric. But I do not find this even in the very
mythical document on which his genealogical table is founded, and of
which I shall have again to speak (see Appendix CCC). The Chronicles
distinctly describe Wulfric as the son of Leofwine, that is, not the
Ealdorman of that name, but one of the many Thegns who bore it. Thus in
Cod. Dipl. iii. 322 (a charter signed by Wulfric himself), we have
“Leofwine dux,” as distinguished from “Leofwine minister;” and the
confirmation charter of Wulfric’s own foundation is signed by “Leofwine
dux” and by two several men described as “Leofwine minister.” It would
seem from what I have just quoted that Wulfric was a brother of Earl
Ælfhelm, and the Burton Chronicle gives him another brother “dux
Alwinus,” that is, Ælfwine or Æthelwine, two not uncommon names, both of
which will be found among the signatures, as in Cod. Dipl. iii. 345–6, a
document which, I may add, is signed by three Leofwines besides the
Ealdorman. Wulfric also makes bequests to a daughter of Morkere and
Ealdgyth who was his goddaughter (“ic geann mínre goddóhtor Mórcares and
Ealdgyðe ðæt lande” etc.). He mentions only one child of his own, who is
spoken of rather mysteriously, without any name, as “my poor daughter”
(“ic gean mínre earman dehter”), with a hint that there was something
wrong about her. She is to hold the land only while she deserves it
(“hwile ðe heo hit geearnian cann”), and Ælfhelm is appointed guardian
both of her and of the land. The name of Wulfric’s wife, according to
the local Chronicle, was Ealhswith.
The foundation of Burton took place, according to the local Chronicles,
in 1004, which is the year of the confirmation charter. Wulfric was
buried within his own monastery, not however in the church, but in the
cloister; “in claustro monasterii sui antedicti sub arcu lapideo juxta
ostium ecclesiæ _superioris_” (Mon. iii. 47). Ealhswith, who seems to
have died before him, as she is not mentioned in the will, was also
buried in the cloister, “juxta ostium ecclesiæ _inferioris_.” It seems
then that the cloister had one door into the choir and one door into the
nave, that is to say, the ritual choir was west of the crossing. The
first Abbot Wulfgeat and his monks came from Winchester; he is said to
have lived till 1026, but I doubt whether he signs any charters.
NOTE PP. p. 352.
THE TAKING OF CANTERBURY AND THE MARTYRDOM OF ÆLFHEAH.
Of the siege of Canterbury and the martyrdom of Ælfheah—the Alphege of
hagiology—we have four distinct accounts. That in the Chronicles of
course claims the first place. It was written before 1023, as it speaks
of Ælfheah’s body being still at Saint Paul’s and working miracles
there, whereas it was translated to Canterbury in 1023. The witness of
the Chronicles I of course accept unhesitatingly. And next to it I am
inclined to place the narrative in Thietmar of Merseburg, which he heard
when it was fresh from the lips of an Englishman named Sewald. He gives
a minute account of the martyrdom, which differs a good deal from the
popular version, but which falls in very well with the account in the
Chronicles, contradicting it in nothing, but explaining it on one or two
points. But, oddly enough, Ælfheah is called Dunstan, a strange mistake
to have been made by a contemporary, even though a foreigner, but one
which shows how great was the fame of Dunstan, and how small the fame of
Ælfheah, in Christendom generally. There is also the Life of Ælfheah by
Osbern in Anglia Sacra, ii. 122. This is a mere piece of hagiology, in
the common style of such lives, and it contains many statements which
are untrue or impossible. It is in fact valuable only as affording
practice in the art of unravelling the component elements of a romantic
story. But the remarkable thing is that the fourth narrative, that of
Florence, departs in several important points from the Chronicles and
copies either from Osbern, or, what is more likely, from some third
source from which Osbern also copied. Florence’s knowledge and good
sense kept him from repeating any of Osbern’s grosser absurdities, but
he has not improved his narrative by introducing several details which
cannot be reconciled with the Chronicles. Simeon simply copies Florence;
Henry of Huntingdon follows the Chronicles, with some slight touches
from Florence.
The Chronicles (1011) describe the whole event in detail, but they give
us only a picture of plunder and captivity, without any mention of
slaughter. The Archbishop and the other persons spoken of and a further
countless number of clerks and laymen, men and women, were made
prisoners (“hi þær genamon inne ealle þa gehadodan men and weras and
wif; þæt wæs unasecgendlic ænigum men hu micel þæs folces wǽs”). The
word “genamon” which is applied to the mass of the people is the same
word which is applied to the Archbishop, who was not put to death till
long after, and to others who we know were not put to death at all. The
Chronicles then go on to say how the Danes stayed in the city as long as
they would, and when they had searched it thoroughly went to their ships
(“ðá hí hæfdon þa buruh ealle asmeade, wendon him þá tó scypan”). Then
follows a short poem lamenting the captivity of Ælfheah and the
wretchedness of the city; but there is not a word to imply any general
massacre. Neither is there anything to imply such a massacre in the
shorter narrative of Thietmar. But in Osbern (Ang. Sacr. ii. 136, 137)
and Florence we get a soul-harrowing account of every possible horror.
Men are slaughtered, burned, thrown from the walls, tortured in horrible
ways. Women are dragged by their hair and thrown into the fire. Children
are tossed on spears or crushed under the wheels of waggons. The whole
ends with a systematic _decimation_ of the surviving adult males. By
decimation is here meant the slaying, not of one out of ten, but of nine
out of ten. This process leaves their lives to four monks and eight
hundred laymen. If this is any clew to the population of Canterbury, the
monks of the two minsters must have been fewer, and the general
population much larger, than one would have expected. The metropolis of
England must have gone down, relatively at least, since the eleventh
century.
These stories cannot be accepted in the teeth of the speaking silence of
the Chroniclers. The narrative of these last is so minute and so
pathetic that they could hardly have failed to dwell on the massacre if
any massacre had taken place. No doubt some lives were lost; a city was
not likely to be taken, least of all by Danes in that age, without the
loss of some lives. And here would be material enough for rhetorical
hagiologists to work up into the picture given us by Osbern, into which
they of course brought in all the horrors that they had ever heard of
anywhere.
The reader will perhaps not be inclined to set much store by the
authority of Osbern, if he knows the kind of story with which he (ii.
132) introduces the siege. One of the brothers of Eadric, a man
“lubricus et superbus” like Brihtric, perhaps Brihtric himself, stirs up
the wrath of the thegns of Kent by falsely accusing them to the King,
and thereby procuring the confiscation of the estates of many of them.
For these misdeeds they kill him and burn his house. Then Eadric, whom
the King had made ruler over the whole realm (“totius imperii sui
præfectum statuerat”), calls on the King to chastise them. The parts of
Eadward and Godwine in a later story are thus transposed. Æthelred
refuses to inflict any punishment on the Kentish thegns, affirming the
wrong-doer to have been rightfully slain (“jure peremptum”). Eadric then
takes the law into his own hands; he collects ten thousand men, who are
described as being “optime armati,” and invades Kent at their head. The
Kentishmen however resist valiantly, and the expedition fails. He then
leagues himself with the Danes (“Danorum conciliabula expetit”) and
exhorts them to attack, not Kent only, but the whole of Britain (“ad
totius Britanniæ fines invadendos”). He describes the nakedness of the
land, how the King—at the age of forty-two—was worn out with years, how
the princes and people were all sunk in sloth and luxury. All this
happens at a time when Swegen is already dead, and when Thurkill has
seemingly succeeded to his power (see above, p. 654). So Eadric and
Thurkill agree to divide the kingdom. Eadric is to take the East-Angles,
seemingly in addition to his Mercian government, and the Danes are to
take the North (“regnum post victoriam æqua sorte dividendum se
Orientalibus Anglis principari, illos vero aquilone potiri”). Eadric now
joins the Danes in the siege of Canterbury. Thurkill is not personally
mentioned, but Eadric presently vanishes from the stage, without any
explanation. It might not be hard to resolve this fable into its
component parts; it is even possible that Eadric’s attack on the
metropolitan city of England is really borrowed from his capture of the
metropolitan city of Wales.
A point now arises as to the traitorous churchman who betrayed the city.
It is not quite clear whether there were two Ælfmærs or one (see Hook,
Lives of Archbishops, i. 466). The Chronicles seem to distinguish Ælfmær
the traitor from Ælfmær the Abbot; and Florence distinguishes the
traitor as “archidiaconus.” Yet if Ælfmær the Abbot was a different man
from Ælfmær the traitor, why should the Danes let Abbot Ælfmær go free,
when the Archbishop and the rest were seized? I can only suggest, as
seems also to have occurred to Dr. Hook, that the story is the reverse
story of that of Cinna the conspirator and Cinna the poet, that the
Danes mistook one Ælfmær for the other, and let go the innocent one by
mistake.
Abbot Ælfmær undoubtedly kept his abbey, and was afterwards raised to
the bishopric of Dorset (W. Thorn, X Scriptt. 1782; Hist. St. Aug. 23,
24). Thorn gives two dates, 1017 and 1022, and makes him resign his see
and return to his abbey. He signs various charters of Cnut as Bishop; he
also appears as Abbot in a writ of Cnut (Cod. Dipl. iv. 9), addressed to
him together with Archbishop Lyfing—therefore before 1020—and Bishop
Godwine; also as a witness to the marriage settlement of another Godwine
(Cod. Dipl. iv. 10) along with King Cnut and Archbishop Lyfing. We find
him also in the doubtful charter of 1023, in Cod. Dipl. iv. 23, 25,
where he signs in company with Æthelric, Bishop of Dorset, who otherwise
seems to have left off signing in 1009. This Ælfmær must not be
confounded with the contemporary Ælfmær, Bishop of the South-Saxons,
whose signature also appears to the charter in iv. 25. The annals of his
own abbey speak of Ælfmær with great reverence; and, though ordinary
traitors might be advanced, a churchman who had had an indirect share in
the martyrdom of a saint would hardly meet with any favour at the hands
of Cnut or of any one else.
In describing the Archbishop’s martyrdom, I have given no heed to the
mythical details in Osbern, but I have formed my narrative from the
Chroniclers and Thietmar. There is no contradiction between the two
accounts, but each fills up gaps in the other. Thus the statement that
Ælfheah first promised a ransom and then refused to pay it comes from
Thietmar; this explains the whole story, which otherwise is hardly
intelligible. We thus see, what otherwise we do not clearly see, both
why the Danes kept Ælfheah so long in bonds, and why they were so
bitterly enraged against him when he finally refused to pay. And we can
easily see why this part of the story should be left out, as tending
somewhat to lessen the martyr’s glory, while it is not easy to see why
any one should invent or imagine it. Florence makes the Danes demand a
ransom of the Archbishop on one Saturday, and tell him that, if he does
not pay it, he shall be killed on the next Saturday (“necem ejus usque
ad aliud sabbatum protelant”). He seems to connect the demand with the
late vote of the Witan rather than with any promise on the part of
Ælfheah himself. The intercession of Thurkill comes from Thietmar; it
falls in exactly with his conduct directly after. The words put into his
mouth imply that he was already a Christian, which he certainly was, and
a zealous one, before long. William of Malmesbury, the consistent
persecutor of Thurkill, must be uttering mere calumnies when he says
that he was “incentor ut lapidaretur archiepiscopus.” I accept from
Florence the name and motive of the Dane Thrim or Thrum, who cleft the
Archbishop’s head. The Chronicles simply mention the fact. “Ðrim miles,”
“Ðrym dux,” “Ðrim eorl” is a signature attached to more than one charter
of Cnut (Cod. Dipl. iv. 17, 23, 25). The documents are suspicious; the
title of Earl is specially suspicious. But no one would have invented a
signature of Thrim, unless he had seen it attached to some genuine
document.
Lappenberg (ii. 177 Thorpe) has some good remarks on the impossibility
of Osbern’s general story, though he accepts his account of the horrors
at Canterbury. Mr. St. John (ii. 30) amusingly takes Lappenberg to task
for “misinterpreting Florence and the Saxon Chronicle.” The truth is
that Lappenberg did not misinterpret anything, but that Mr. St. John
failed to consult Thietmar, though Lappenberg gave him the reference.
Sir Francis Palgrave, when he wrote his small history (p. 297),
swallowed the whole tale about Eadric and his brother. M. de Bonnechose
(ii. 17) has much to tell us about “un chef farouche nommé Turchtill,”
but he does not take him to Canterbury.
As Thietmar’s account of the martyrdom is well worth reading, and as his
work is much less accessible than most of my authorities, I transcribe
it in full;
“Percepi quoque a relatu prædicti hominis Sewaldi factum miserabile ac
idcirco memorabile, quod perfida Northmannorum manus, duce ad hoc
Thurkilo, Cantuariæ civitatis egregium antistitem, Dunsten nomine, cum
cæteris caperent, et vinculis et inedia ac ineffabili pœna, more suo
nefando, constringerent. Hic humana motus fragilitate, pecuniam eis
promittit, et ad hanc impetrandam inducias posuit, ut si in his
acceptabili redemptione mortem momentaneam evadere nequivisset, semet
ipsum gemitibus crebris interim purgaret, hostiam Domino vivam ad
immolandum. Transactis tunc omnibus designatis temporibus, vorax picarum
charybdis Dei famulum evocat, et sibi promissum celeriter persolvi
tributum minaciter postulat. Et ille, ut mitis agnus, ‘Præsto sum,’
inquit, ‘paratus ad omnia quæ in me nunc presumitis facere; ac Christi
amore, ut suorum merear fieri exemplum servorum, non sum hodie turbatus.
Quod vobis mendax videor, non mea voluntas, sed dira efficit mihi
egestas. Corpus hoc meum, quod in hoc exsilio supra modum dilexi, vobis
culpabile offero, et quid de eo faciatis in vestra esse potestate
cognosco; animam autem meimet peccatricem Creatori omnium, vos non
respicientem, supplex committo.’ Talia loquentem profanorum agmen
vallavit, et diversa hunc ad interficiendum arma congerit. Quod quum
eorum dux Thurcil a longe vidisset, celeriter accurrens: ‘Ne, quæso, sic
faciatis!’ infit. ‘Aurum et argentum, et omne quod hic habeo vel ullo
modo acquirere possum, excepta navi sola, ne in christum Domini peccetis
libenti animo vobis omnibus trado.’ Tam dulci affatu infrenata sociorum
ira, ferro et saxis durior, non mollitur, sed effuso innocenti sanguine
placatur, quem communiter capitibus boum et imbribus lapidum atque
lignorum infusione protinus effundunt. Inter tot frementium impetus
potitus est cœlesti jucunditate, ut signi sequentis efficacia protinus
testatur.” (Pertz, iii. 849.)
NOTE QQ. p. 360.
THE KINGSHIP AND DEATH OF SWEGEN.
That Swegen was acknowledged as King over England seems to be beyond
doubt. The Chronicles (1013) say, “And eall þeodscipe hine hæfde þa for
fulne cyning.” So Florence; “Ab omni Anglorum populo rex, si jure queat
rex vocari, qui fere cuncta tyrannice faciebat, et appellabatur et
habebatur.” So Henry of Huntingdon (M. H. B. 754 D); “Suain vero ab omni
populo habebatur pro rege;” and again, “Suain jam rex Anglorum.” So,
among later writers, Roger of Wendover (i. 447), “Regem Angliæ se jussit
appellari;” and Bromton (X Scriptt. 892), “Swanus jam rex Anglorum
factus.” William of Malmesbury (ii. 177) loses himself in fine writing;
“tota jam Anglia in clientelam illius inclinata.”
On the other hand the English writers are specially fond of giving
Swegen the name of _Tyrant_, a name, it must be remembered, which still
keeps the meaning which became familiar in the third century (see p.
137), that of “usurper” or “pretender.” We have already seen Florence
use the adverb “tyrannice,” and under the year 1014 he begins the
account of Swegen’s death with the words, “Suanus tyrannus, post
innumerabilia et crudelia mala, quæ vel in Anglia vel in aliis terris
gesserat, ad cumulum suæ damnationis,” &c. So William of Malmesbury (ii.
179), rhetorically describing the evil case of England during Swegen’s
occupation, says, “Hæsitabatur totis urbibus quid fieret; si pararetur
rebellio, assertorem non haberent; si eligeretur subjectio, placido
rectore carerent. Ita privatæ et publicæ opes ad naves cum obsidibus
deportabantur, quod non esset ille dominus legitimus, sed tyrannus
atrocissimus.” This is developed by Roger of Wendover (i. 448);
“Swanus ... tyrannus nequissimus ... evidenter apparet ipsum naturalem
non esse dominum [cyne-hlaford] sed tyrannum. Hæsitabat populus quid
faceret, quia, si bellum quæreret, ductorem non haberet, si subjectionem
eligeret, tyrannum rectorem haberet.” The technical and the rhetorical
sense of the word are struggling throughout.
It will be seen at once that the former set of passages are much more
distinct than the latter, which are intelligible only on the supposition
that something happened, just as in the cases of Cnut and William, which
at least passed for a regular election. Florence’s scruple about calling
Swegen “rex” seems of itself to imply that he had some kind of formal
claim to the title. But I imagine that he was never crowned. The
remarkable words of the Chronicles that “all the people held him for
full King” almost seem to imply that in strictness he was not full King.
This would be exactly the position of a King elected but not crowned. No
one hints at a coronation, except perhaps the Encomiast, who tells us
(i. 5), “Ubi jam sæpedictus rex tota Anglorum patria est
_inthronizatus_, et ubi jam pene illi nemo restitit, pauco supervixit
tempore, sed tamen illud tantillum gloriose.” But if Swegen had been
solemnly crowned and anointed, his panegyrist would hardly have
contented himself with so vague a word as “inthronizatus.” Florence
again (1013) mentions only Ealdormen and thegns as joining in the
submission to Swegen, while in the election of Cnut in 1016 he
distinctly speaks of Bishops and Abbots as taking a share. And their
absence seems implied in a statement of William of Malmesbury (ii. 177),
which, though his narrative is evidently inaccurate in many points, is
worth notice. This is that Æthelred (p. 361), before he crossed into
Normandy, held a meeting of Bishops and Abbots, as being the only people
who still clave to him. “Abbates et episcopos, qui nec in tali
necessitate dominum suum deserendum putarent, in hanc convenit
sententiam.”
This at once brings us to the problem of Swegen’s religion. There seems
no reason to doubt the account of his early baptism, his apostasy, his
rebellion against his father. The English and German writers seem to
know nothing of any reconversion. With Thietmar, for instance, a writer
absolutely contemporary, who wrote while the events of 1016 were the
last news of the day (see vii. 27, 28; Pertz, iii. 848), Swegen is to
the end the “immitis Danorum rex” (vii. 26) and “Suennus persecutor”
(28). But the Danish chroniclers assert a repentance and reconversion.
So the Chronicle of Eric (Langebek, i. 158) mentions the baptism of
Harold Blaatand and the parricidal war of Swegen, without however
mentioning Swegen’s early baptism. Thus we read how Swegen “de regno
expulsus, tandem ad Christi fidem conversus, baptizatus est et mox, Deo
favente, regnum suum recepit.” So the Chronicle of Roskild (i. 376);
“Christianis valde inimicus, quos etiam finibus suis expelli
præcepit ... tandem Deum cognovit post flagella, quem cœpit quærere
eique credere.” We then read how he founded churches and brought Bishop
Bernhard from Norway into Scania. So Saxo first (186) describes his
persecutions, and then (188) tells of his conversion, how he was
“fortunæ sævitia ad amplectendam religionis caritatem adactus.” He too
places Swegen’s baptism at this stage; “Quinetiam cunctis circa se rite
peractis, lavacri usum promptissimo religionis tenore percepit.” He
then, as well as the Roskild Chronicle, goes on to tell of the churches
and bishoprics which he founded, and especially how he brought the
English Bishop Bernhard from Norway to Lund. But Adam (ii. 53)
attributes all this to Cnut. Saxo becomes (191) almost affecting on
Swegen’s piety in his old age; “Sveno senilis animæ laboribus fessus,
divinis rebus infatigabilem ultimi temporis curam tribuit,” &c. So the
Encomiast (i. 5) tells us of the good and Christian advice, as well as
the instructions in the art of government, which he gave to his son Cnut
before his death; “Præsciens igitur dissolutionem sui corporis imminere,
filium suum Cnutonem quem secum habuit advocat, sese viam universæ
carnis ingrediendum indicat. Cui dum multa de regni gubernaculo multaque
hortaretur de Christianitatis studio, Deo gratias, illi, virorum
dignissimo sceptrum commisit regale.”
When we balance the two sets of authorities, I think we shall hardly be
inclined to reject the implied witness of the German and English writers
in favour either of a careless writer like Saxo or of an abandoned
flatterer like the Encomiast. The English legend of his death implies a
kind of half belief in the power of Saint Eadmund which is really not
unlikely in such a case. It has a kind of parallel in a story of a
Danish chief, perhaps the Guthrum-Æthelstan who was found making a vow
to Saint Patrick. (See Dr. Todd’s Introduction to the Wars of the
Gaedhill and the Gaill, lxiv, lxv, xciii.) We have the like
contradictions as to Swegen’s death. The Encomiast goes on to tell us
how he prayed his son that his body might be taken to Denmark, and makes
incidentally an admission of some importance. Swegen would not be buried
in England; “noverat enim quia pro invasione regni illis odiosus erat
populis.” He then dies; “Nec multo post postrema naturæ persolvit
debita, animam remittendo cœlestibus, terræ autem reddendo membra.” Saxo
also (191) makes him die very quietly, perhaps in the odour of sanctity;
“Omni humana concussione vacuus, in ipso perfectissimæ vitæ fulgore
decessit.” The English story, as it is told by Florence, I have given in
the text. The Chronicle records only that “he ended his days.” William
of Malmesbury (ii. 179) had heard more stories than one; “pervasor ...
ambiguum qua morte, vitam effudit.” He then goes on to tell the story in
a form slightly different from that of Florence: Swegen seems to have
reached Bury and to be actually harrying the lands of Saint Eadmund;
“Dicitur quod terram Sancti Edmundi depopulanti martyr idem per visum
apparuerit, leniterque de miseria conventum insolentiusque respondentem
in capite perculerit, quo dolore tactum in proximo, ut prædictum est,
obiisse.” The Knytlinga Saga, c. 6 (Johnstone, 89), makes Swegen’s death
sudden, but says significantly that he died in his bed; “urdo þau
tídindi þar, at Sveinn konungr Haralldsson vard bráddaudr um nott í
’reckio sinni.” The tale then goes on to speak of the legend as one told
by Englishmen; “Oc er þat sögn Enskra manna, at Eadmundr hinn helgi hafi
drepit hann, med þeima hætti sem hinn helgi Mercurius drap Julianum
_níding_.” There is no mention of Saint Mercurius in Florence, but the
comparison between Julian and Swegen, according to the English notion of
Swegen, is obvious enough, and the name “níding” (= the English
“niðing”) applied to Julian is worth notice. In after times Orderic (518
A) attributes the death of Swegen to Saint Eadmund, but without details;
“A sancto Edmundo jussu Dei peremptus est.” In Orderic’s eyes Swegen is
still “vesanus idololatra.” The same story is told of the Bulgarian King
Kalojohannes, who died before Thessalonica in 1207. He was smitten by
Saint Dêmêtrios, just as Swegen was by Saint Eadmund. See the Notes to
Georgios Akropolites, p. 236 ed. Bonn, and Jireček, Geschichte der
Bulgaren, p. 242. There is another tale of the same kind in p. 246.
As for Swegen’s body, Thietmar (vii. 28) says, in a marked but not very
clear way; “hujus proles, multum in omnibus patrissantes, dilecti
genitoris corpus delatum flebiliter suscipiunt et tumulant, et quidquid
dedecoris patri suimet ingeri ab Anglis propositum est, paratis navibus
ulcisci studebant.” This must be taken in connexion with the significant
remark of the Encomiast quoted in the last paragraph. He presently goes
on (ii. 3) to tell us how an English lady (“quædam matronarum
Anglicarum”)—had Swegen found his Eadgyth Swanneshals in England?—dug up
the body which had been buried in England (“assumpto corpore Sueini
regis sua in patria sepulti”), embalmed it, and carried it in a ship to
Denmark. She then summoned Cnut and Harold to come and bury their father
in the place which he had himself appointed. They come accordingly and
bury him honourably in the tomb which he had himself made in the minster
of the Holy Trinity of his own rearing (“honorificentiusque illud in
monasterio in honore sanctæ Trinitatis ab eodem rege constructo, in
sepulcro quod sibi paraverat recondunt”). From the Saga of Olaf
Tryggvesson (Johnstone, 101), which says nothing about the manner of
Swegen’s death, we find that this minster is Roskild. “Sveirn konungr
andadist í Englandi oc færdo Danir han til Danmerkur oc grofo þan í
Hroiskeldo hia födr sinum.” The English lady is here left out.
NOTE RR. p. 369.
THE SERMON OF WULFSTAN OR LUPUS.
There is, I suppose, no question that the person affectedly described as
“Lupus” is really Archbishop Wulfstan. And I have little doubt in fixing
the discourse to the year 1014. This is the date given in the heading of
one of the manuscripts, while another has 1008. In an insertion in the
text itself the discourse is said to have been delivered four years
before the death of Æthelred. “Ðis wæs on Æþelredes cyningcs dagum
gediht, feower geara fæce ær he forðferde.” This would at first sight
look as if the right year were 1012. But the discourse itself contains a
passage which shows that it must be later than Æthelred’s flight in
1013. The speaker says (p. 102) that the two most shameful deeds that
can be done are to compass one’s lord’s death and to drive him out of
the land. Each of these crimes, he says, has been done in England
(“ægðer is geworden on ðysum earde”); Eadward has been murdered; we
expect the speaker to add that Æthelred has been driven out; but either
some words have been lost in the text or else Wulfstan left it to his
hearers to fill up the gap for themselves. But in any case the passage
would have no force or meaning at any time before Æthelred’s flight. And
I am not sure that it is not possible, by a little chronological
subtlety, to reconcile the date of 1014 with the other date of four
years before the death of Æthelred. The year begins at different times
in different reckonings. In a chronology which made the year begin at
Lady-day, Æthelred’s death on April 23, 1016 would come in a year
1016–1017, while, if the sermon was preached before March 25, in a year
1013–1014, this might possibly be called the fourth year before the
other. It may no doubt have been delivered just at the end of what we
should call the year 1013, but the matter of the discourse agrees so
well with the matter of the decrees of the Gemót of 1014 that one is
strongly tempted to connect the two. It cannot in any case belong to
1012. See p. 361.
It is remarkable how little strictly historical information the speech
gives us. Indeed the one historical fact which it mentions is wrong, as
Wulfstan says that the body of Eadward the Martyr was burned (“Eadweard
man forræde and syððan acwealde and æfter þam forbærnde”). But it is
none the less valuable as a picture of the wretchedness of the times, a
picture which goes very much into detail in its general descriptions,
though without mentioning the names of persons or places. I have summed
up most of the chief points in the text. Among the passages which are
most worthy of notice are those which relate to the slave-trade. The
orator first says (p. 100);
“Earme men syndon sare beswicene and hreowlice besyrwde and ut of þysum
earde wide gesealde swyþe unforworhte fremdum to gewealde, and
cradolcild geðeowode þurh wælhreowe unlaga for lytelre ðyfðe wide gynd
ðas þeode. And freo riht fornumene and ðrælriht genyrwde and ælmesriht
gewanode.”
The other passage (102) says;
“Eac we witan full georne hwær seo yrmð gewearð þæt fæder gesealde his
bearn wið weorðe, and bearn his modor, and broðor sealde oðerne fremdum
to gewealde ut of ðisse ðeode.”
Slavery also brought its own punishment in other ways. The slaves often
joined the heathen invaders (“ðeh þræla hwylc hlaforde æthlæpe and of
cristendome to wicinge weorðe”); sometimes a thegn’s slave led his own
master into slavery (“and oft þræl ðæne ðegen ðe ær wæs his hlaford,
cnyt swyðe fæste and wyrcð him to þræle, ðurh Godes yrre”). The lustful
excesses of Englishmen, several of whom would hire a harlot in common
(p. 102), were avenged by the outrages of the invaders on the wives and
daughters of English thegns (“and oft tyne oððe twelfe, ælc after oðrum,
scendað and tawiað to bismore micelum ðæs ðegenes cwenan, and hwilum his
dohtor oððe nyd magan; þær he onlocað þa læte hine sylfne rancne and
rincne and genoh godne ær þæt gewurðe.” p. 103. Cf. Herod, viii. 33).
Two or three pirates drove all the people from sea to sea (“oft twegen
sæmen oððe ðry hwilum drifað ða drafe Cristenra manna fram sæ to sæ ut
ðurh ðæs ðeode gewelede togædere.” p. 103).
Lastly, there is an apparent allusion to the capture of Canterbury and
captivity of Ælfheah and others, which certainly falls in better with my
notion of that event than with the notion of a general massacre. “We hym
gyldað singallice, and hy us hynað dæghwamlice: hy hergiað and hy
bærnað, rypað and _ræpiað and to scipe lædað_.” (p. 103). This almost
sounds like the poem in the Chronicles about Ælfheah. One might almost
have thought that the speech was made during the time of Ælfheah’s
imprisonment, but the manifest allusion to the flight of Æthelred
forbids this.
NOTE SS. p. 372.
THE CHILDREN OF ÆTHELRED.
The list of the children of Æthelred, among the genealogies given by
Florence (i. 275, Thorpe), is manifestly imperfect. He is there said to
have had by his first wife Ælfgifu, the daughter of Ealdorman
Æthelberht, three sons, Eadmund, Eadwig, and Æthelstan, and one
daughter, Eadgyth. He then mentions the two sons of Emma, Ælfred and
Eadward, but does not mention Emma’s daughter Godgifu. This list is
copied by R. Higden (270) and Knighton (2314), only changing Ælfgifu
daughter of Æthelberht into Æthelgifu daughter of Ecgberht. The three
sons of the first marriage here mentioned are those who survived to play
a part in the history, but it appears from the charters that Ælfgifu, if
that was her name, was the mother of several other sons. I quote the
doubtful charters along with the genuine ones, as this is the kind of
point in which one who either forged a charter or wrote down a lost
charter from memory would be sure to reproduce what he had seen in
genuine documents. Thus in a doubtful charter of 990 (Cod. Dipl. iii.
250) we have the signatures of Æthelstan, Ecgberht or Ecgbriht, Eadmund,
Eadred, Eadwig, Eadgar, and Eadward. All sign with the title of “clito,”
which is of course equivalent to Ætheling. In iii. 270, we have
Æthelstan, Ecgbriht, Eadmund, and Eadred, all with the title of “regis
filius.” At iii. 308, a seemingly genuine charter of 998, we have the
“clitones” Æthelstan, Ecgbriht, Eadmund, Eadred, Eadwig. In iii. 314
(999) we have Æhelstan and Eadred. In iii. 321 (1001) Æthelstan,
Ecgbriht, Eadmund, Eadred, Eadwig, and Eadgar; and the same list in iii.
325 (1002). At iii. 330, in a doubtful charter of 1004, Æthelstan, as
the eldest son, signs on behalf of his brothers. In a genuine charter of
the same year (iii. 334) we have the same list which I have already
quoted with the omission of the name Eadred. In vi. 142 (1002) we have
the same list with the name of Eadred. In another of the same year, vi.
146, the list stands, Æthelstan, Ecgbriht, Eadmund, Eadward, Eadwig,
Eadgar. In vi. 153 (1005) the list is Æthelstan, Ecgbriht, Eadmund,
Eadric, Eadwig, Eadgar, Eadward. In 1007 (vi. 156) it stands, Æthelstan,
Eadmund, Eadred, Eadwig, Eadgar, Eadward. In another of the same year
(vi. 159) Æthelstan signs on behalf of all his brothers (“Ego Æðelstanus
filius regis cum fratribus meis clitonibus adplaudens consensi”). In a
doubtful charter of 1013 (vi. 166) the signatures are Æthelstan,
Eadmund, Eadward, Ælfred, and Eadwig, and in a genuine one of 1014 (vi.
169) we have Eadmund, Eadwig, Eadward, and Ælfred. Lastly, in 1015 (vi.
171) we have Eadmund and Eadward only.
From all this it seems certain that Æthelstan was the eldest son and
Eadmund the third, the intermediate brother Ecgbriht dying, it would
seem, about 1005. It now becomes an important point whether Æthelstan
was alive at the time of his father’s death. This I shall discuss in
another Note. His will (iii. 361), a very important document, of which I
shall have to speak again, is witnessed by Eadmund, and contains
bequests both to him and to Eadwig. We may perhaps also infer that
Eadred was dead as well as Ecgbriht, and Eadric also, if the single
signature of that name be not a mistake. But from the mention of
“brothers” (“fratres”) of Eadmund as surviving him (see page 405) one
might be inclined to think that one at least of Eadmund’s younger
brothers, besides Eadwig, was alive at the beginning of 1017. For Cnut
had much more reason to dread opposition from Eadmund’s brothers of the
whole blood than from the sons of Emma. And if Æthelstan, Ecgbriht, and
perhaps Eadred, were dead, Eadgar might be alive. There would also seem
to have been an Eadward a son of the first marriage, as (to say nothing
of the doubtful charter of 990, and of that of 984, mentioned below)
Eadward the son of Emma could not have signed in 1002, though he might
in 1005, if the pen was held in the child’s hand. If so, this elder
Eadward doubtless died before the birth of his namesake.
Of the daughters of the first marriage Florence mentions only Eadgyth
the wife of Eadric. But we seem to have evidence enough for Wulfhild the
wife of Ulfeytel (see p. 654) and for Ælfgifu the wife of Uhtred (see p.
330). We also need a fourth daughter to account for the King’s
son-in-law Æthelstan, who died in the battle of Ringmere (see p. 347).
The mother of these children, as I have said, is called by Florence
Ælfgifu, the daughter of Ealdorman Æthelberht. I cannot however find any
Ealdorman of that name. Æthelred of Rievaux (X Scriptt. 362, 372) calls
her the daughter of Earl Thored (see p. 661). William of Malmesbury (ii.
179) professes ignorance of her name, and speaks of her birth as
ignoble; “Erat iste Edmundus non ex Emma natus, sed ex quadam alia quam
fama obscura recondit.” He then goes on to magnify Eadmund, saying that
he was one “qui patris ignaviam, matris ignobilitatem, virtute sua probe
premeret si Parcæ parcere nossent.” Roger of Wendover speaks nearly to
the same effect in i. 451. I do not understand Lappenberg’s note (431,
ii. 163 Thorpe), where he quotes the Scholiast on Adam of Bremen as
calling her “Afficud,” which he takes to be Ælflæd. Mr. Thorpe (Dipl.
Angl. 542) further identifies her with the Æthelflæd whose will he has
there printed. But, at least in Pertz’ edition (ii. 51, Schol. 39), the
name is “Afelrud,” and she is described as the step-mother of Eadward
the son of Eadgar, that is, of course, Ælfthryth. I would rather
identify her with the Ælfgifu whose will appears in Cod. Dipl. iii. 359.
This cannot belong to Ælfgifu-Emma, as it speaks of her sister Ælfwaru
and her brother’s wife Æthelflæd. (These three names again come together
in the will of Wynflæd, Cod. Dipl. iii. 293.) It reads to me like the
will of a King’s wife, yet it contains bequests not only to the Ætheling
but to the Lady. Mr. Kemble gives it the date of 1012, and a bequest to
Bishop Æthelwold (1006–1014) shows that it cannot be far from that date.
Several questions arise out of this. Was Æthelred’s first wife divorced
to make room for the Norman Lady? Or was she only a mistress or Danish
wife? I do not think she is ever called “regina,” and Æthelred of
Rievaux seems pointedly to contrast her with “regina Emma.” And again,
were all these sons and daughters children of one mother? There is a
very strange charter (Cod. Dipl. iii. 204) which must be spurious or at
least wrongly dated, as Æthelred, born in 969, cannot have had six sons
in 984; but the signatures are worth notice from their very strangeness.
They run thus, “Æðelstan,” “Eadgar clito,” “Eadmund frater prædicti
clitonis,” “Eadweard clito,” “Eadward filius regis,” “Eadwig frater
clitonum.” This does not read like a list of sons of one mother.
Lappenberg (u. s.) makes Æthelred marry in his seventeenth year, but I
have not found his authority. At any rate his third son Eadmund cannot
have been born, as Roger of Wendover (i. 422) tells us, in 981, when
Æthelred was twelve years old.
It should again be noticed that in the will of Æthelstan (Cod. Dipl.
iii. 363) there is no mention of his mother, living or dead, and that he
speaks of his grandmother Ælfthryth as having reared him (“Ælfðryðe
mínre ealdormódor ðe me áfédde”). Ælfthryth was living in 999, as
appears by her signature in Cod. Dipl. iii. 314; perhaps later, as she
(Cod. Dipl. iii. 353) addresses a writ to Archbishop Ælfric who lived to
1006. The young Æthelings and their grandmother are again spoken of in
the will of Wynflæd (Cod. Dipl. iii. 292), which, as mentioning
Archbishop Sigeric, comes between 990 and 994. But here again is no
mention of their mother, unless she lurks among the cloud of witnesses,
“Ælfwaru, Ælfgifu, and Æthelflæd,” names which we have just before seen
in company.
I am afraid therefore that I must leave the first marriage of Æthelred
shrouded in some obscurity. The Scandinavian writers cut the knot by
giving all Æthelred’s children to Emma. Thus in the Knytlinga Saga
(Johnstone, 130) Cnut is called Eadmund’s stepfather, and again (139)
Emma is distinctly called the mother of Eadmund and his brothers. So
Snorro (ib. 97), speaking of the Norman Dukes, says expressly that Emma,
daughter of Richard and sister of Dukes William and Robert, whomever he
may mean, married Æthelred, and was mother of Eadmund, Eadward the Good,
Eadwig, and Eadgar (“Eadmundr oc Eadvardr hinn gódi, Eatvígr oc
Eatgeir”). It is odd that the last two names should have been
remembered.
So Thietmar (Pertz, vii. 28) mistakes Æthelstan and Eadmund for children
of Emma. Walter Map, on the other hand (De Nugis, 203), confounds the
sons of Emma with their nephews, the sons of Eadmund and Ealdgyth. At
least Eadward and Ælfred reached Normandy (see p. 361) only by the help
of the Hungarian King. Cnut, having married Emma, tries in vain to find
her sons; “Rapuerat enim eos, ut præparavit Altissimus, a tumultu et
turbine miles quidam, et clam in cymba positos in portum impulit, et
regiis ornatos insigniis cum brevi cognitionis et cognationis eorum
dispositioni divinæ supposuit. Illi autem in die secundo a mercatoribus
Pannoniæ vagientes inventi sunt, et ab Hungarorum rege redempti, et ad
avunculum suum ducem [Normannorum sc.] remissi.” This story is one of a
whole class of tales of persons exposed in boats. See Historical Essays,
First Series, p. 13.
NOTE TT. p. 381.
THE ELECTIONS OF CNUT AND EADMUND.
Cnut may be said to have been three times elected to the crown. The
first time is in 1014, on the death of his father Swegen (see p. 367),
when the election was made wholly by the Danish fleet, and when the
Witan of England passed their vote for the restoration of Æthelred. But
on the death of Æthelred he seems to have been more regularly elected by
a large portion at least of the English Witan. The fact is not stated in
the Chronicles, but it is distinctly affirmed by Florence, and the words
of the Chronicles (1016), if carefully studied, will perhaps be found to
give the statement of Florence a negative confirmation. It is only the
latest and least authoritative version of the Chronicles, the Canterbury
manuscript, which states the election of Eadmund to have been an act of
the Witan of all England; “And æfter his [Æðelredes] ende ealle
Angelcynnes witan gecuron Eadmund to cinge.” The three other Chroniclers
seem carefully to mark the act as more partial and local. They say only,
“And þá æfter his ende ealle ða witan þá on Lundene wǽron and seo
burhwaru gecuron Eadmund to cýninge.” When we remember that London was
the only place which still held out, and that Wessex itself was in the
power of Cnut, we shall probably have little difficulty in accepting the
account in Florence. His words are as follows;
“Cujus [Ægelredi] post mortem, episcopi, abbates, duces, et quique
nobiliores Angliæ, in unum congregati, pari consensu, in dominum et
regem sibi Canutum elegere, et ad eum in Suthamtonia venientes, omnemque
progeniem regis Ægelredi coram illo abnegando repudiantes, pacem cum eo
composuere, et fidelitatem illi juravere; quibus et ille juravit quod,
et secundum Deum et secundum seculum, fidelis esse vellet eis dominus.
At cives Lundonienses, et pars nobilium, qui eo tempore consistebant
Lundoniæ, clitonem Eadmundum unanimi consensu in regem levavere.”
I accept then the double election, and there can be no doubt that the
election of Eadmund was the earlier of the two. The Witan of his party
were on the spot, while those who chose Cnut had to come together from
various places to Southampton. The election of Eadmund also seems to
have been followed by a coronation, while the election of Cnut answered
rather to the submission made to William at Berkhampstead, between which
and his coronation at Westminster some little time passed. Florence
seems pointedly to exclude a coronation of Cnut, while, though he does
not distinctly affirm, he seems rather to imply the ceremony in the case
of Eadmund. For he immediately adds, “qui solii regalis sublimatus
culmine, intrepidus West-Saxoniam adiit sine cunctatione.” And Eadmund’s
coronation in Saint Paul’s by Lyfing appears in three later, but two of
them very respectable, authorities. Ralph de Diceto, in his series of
Archbishops of Canterbury (Ang. Sacr. ii. 683), says of Lyfing, “Hic
consecravit Edmundum Ferreum Latus, et postmodum Cnutonem regem Daciæ.”
So Bromton (904), “Londonienses cum nonnulla parte procerum Edmundum
filium regis Ethelredi in regem levaverunt, qui a Livingo Dorobernensi
archiepiscopo apud Londonias consecratus est.” And in the list of
coronations in the Rishanger volume (426) we read,
“Anno gratiæ millesimosexto-decimo, Londoniis, coronatio Edmundi Ferrei
Lateris, filii regis Ethelredi, qui in eodem anno proditionaliter
interfectus, Glastoniæ est sepultus.
“Anno gratiæ millesimo septimo-decimo, Londoniis, coronatio Cnutonis
regis, filii _David_. Hic vicesimo regni anno mortuus, apud Wyntoniam
est humatus.”
I have no notion whatever why Swegen or Otto should be called David; but
these entries in Rishanger, though not contemporary, are not the _obiter
dicta_ of a man who is carelessly compiling a story, but the assertions
of a man who is giving the results of his special inquiries into a
special subject. As therefore there is no contemporary authority to set
against them, and as they fit in with the slight indication in Florence,
I accept them. Lyfing then was one of the Witan who were in London with
Eadmund, and he performed the ceremony of Eadmund’s royal consecration
at once on his election. But Cnut remained uncrowned till after his
second or third election after the death of Eadmund. This was doubtless
one reason among others why, in the agreement between Cnut and Eadmund,
the Imperial dignity remained with the West-Saxon.
It is worth noticing that both candidates were most likely chosen over
the heads of their own elder brothers. Cnut clearly was so chosen at his
first election by the Danish fleet. In choosing a successor to Swegen in
his conquered kingdom of England, Harold, who succeeded him in Denmark
(see p. 366), was passed by in favour of his more promising brother. At
the Southampton election Cnut was chosen on the same grounds on which
William was afterwards chosen, because he was the conqueror, and a
conqueror far more fully in possession of the conquered land than
William was in December 1066. If Harold had any share in the war, he was
altogether overshadowed by his brother. But was Eadmund the eldest
surviving son of Æthelred? We have seen in the last Note that he had two
elder brothers, Æthelstan and Ecgbriht. Of these there can be little
doubt that Ecgbriht was dead, but the case is not so clear about
Æthelstan. One story, which I shall have to examine in the next Note,
seems to hint that he took a part in the war of Cnut and Eadmund and
died during its course. His will, of which I have already spoken and
shall have to speak again, was made during his father’s lifetime, but it
does not follow that he died before his father. The point is an obscure
one, but it is worth inquiring into, for to choose a younger brother
over the head of an elder, though a perfectly legal measure, was a
strong and unusual one. If it be the fact, it does equal honour to both
brothers. The merits of Eadmund must have been great, if he was thus
preferred to an elder brother, while no praise can be too great for the
conduct of Æthelstan in quietly accepting and loyally serving a younger
brother thus chosen over his own head.
Another question arises as to the ecclesiastical position of Cnut at the
time of the Southampton election. It is not very clear when Cnut was
baptized; our notices on this point have to be sought for in rather out
of the way places. In the Aquitanian history of Ademar, iii. 55 (Pertz,
iv. 140), we read, “Rex Canotus de Danamarcha paganus, mortuo Adalrado
rege Anglorum, regnum ejus dolo cepit et reginam Anglorum in conjugium
accepit, quæ erat soror comitis Rotomensis Richardi, et factus
Christianus utraque regna tenuit, et quoscumque potuit ex paganis de
Danamarcha ad fidem Christi pertraxit.” Another manuscript adds, “Pater
ejus paganus nomine _Asquec_ solum regnum de Danamarca tenuit.” “Asquec”
as the name of Cnut’s father seems at first sight as incomprehensible as
the name David, but Pertz is doubtless right in hinting that it is a
corruption of his nickname _Tveskiæg_, “Fork-beard,” or, in plain
English, _Two-shag_. The religion of Swegen, as we have seen, is a
problem, but the chances are certainly against his son being baptized in
his infancy. One Danish Chronicler, as we have already seen (see p.
375), makes Cnut be baptized by Unwan, Archbishop of Bremen, in the
middle of his war with Æthelred; and this may seem to draw some
confirmation from the statement of the Scholiast on Adam of Bremen, 38
(ii. 50); “Knut, filius Suein regis, abjecto nomine gentilitatis, in
baptismo Lambertus nomen accepit. Unde scriptum est in libro
fraternitatis nostræ Lambrecht rex Danorum, et Imma regina, et Knut
filius eorum, devote se commendaverunt orationibus fratrum Bremensium.”
If Cnut was baptized by the name of Lambert, he was none the less always
called by his heathen name, just as his father was never known as Otto,
nor Rolf as Robert. We also read in Osbern’s tract on the Translation of
Saint Ælfheah (Ang. Sacr. ii. 144) that Archbishop Æthelnoth was “regi
[Cnutoni] propterea quod illum sancto chrismate livisset valde
acceptus.” This cannot refer to his coronation, which was not performed
by Æthelnoth, and it can hardly refer to his baptism. I suspect
therefore that it refers to confirmation, and that Cnut was confirmed at
the time of the Southampton election. His case would thus be very like
that of the elder Olaf (see above, p. 290), who was confirmed after a
much earlier baptism at the time of his peace with Æthelred. The
Christianity of Cnut at the time of that election is plainly implied in
the words of the oath put into his mouth by Florence.
The final accession of Cnut after the death of Eadmund forms the first
entry in each of the four Chronicles under the year 1017; “Hér on þissum
geare _feng_ Cnut kyning _tó_ eallon Angelcynnes [Englalandes, Ab.]
_ryce_.” The Winchester Chronicle alone, in one of its short and
occasional entries, says, “Her Cnut wearð _gecoren_ to kinge.” The
expression in the other four is probably chosen advisedly; for, as Cnut
succeeded by virtue of the terms of the Olney compact, there was no need
of any formal election. Florence, whose fuller account I have followed
in the text, uses the words expressive of election only in a sort of
incidental way; “Ipse juraverunt illi quod eum regem sibi eligere
vellent, eique humiliter obedire.” What he chiefly insists on is the
examination of the witnesses—false witnesses, as he says they were—to
show that Cnut really was entitled to succeed under the compact.
Florence divides the details of Cnut’s accession between the two years
1016 and 1017; he might thus be thought to speak of two distinct
assemblies; but as there is no trace of more than one in the Chronicles,
I am disposed to think that the two accounts are merely two narratives
of the proceedings of the same Gemót, perhaps rather unskilfully
borrowed from two sources. Florence begins the year on the first of
January, and the ordinary session of a Midwinter Gemót, taking in the
twelve days of Christmas, would really extend into both years. The
coronation of Cnut, like the coronation of Harold, most likely took
place on the feast of the Epiphany. We have seen that there is every
reason to believe that the ceremony was performed in Saint Paul’s by
Archbishop Lyfing. The coronation, it must be remembered, would involve
the ecclesiastical election by clergy and people. See vol. iii. p. 627.
How utterly the real story was forgotten, and above all how utterly the
true position of Cnut at the time of his father’s death passed out of
his mind, is nowhere better shown than in the version of Walter Map (De
Nugis, 202). The English, according to him, especially the Londoners,
were so tired of Æthelred that they sent for help to Cnut, who, it would
seem, had already founded his Northern Empire. “Erat illa tempestate
regum omnium ditissimus et strenuissimus Dacorum rex Chnutus. Hic ab
optimatibus Angliæ vocatus, et frequentibus epistolis illectus, non
invitis sed invitantibus Anglicis et cum gaudio suscipientibus, cum
exercitu nimio in Danesiam illapsus est, quæ nunc usque dicitur a Dacis,
ut aiunt, Danesia.” (Where is “Danesey”?) Presently, Cnut comes, “ab
invitatoribus suis Londoniensibus susceptus.”
NOTE VV. p. 383.
THE WAR OF CNUT AND EADMUND.
The English narratives of this great year of battles agree well together
on the whole, and I see no difficulty in accepting the story as it is
given in them. The part played by Eadric is indeed hard to understand,
but so is his career throughout, and I can see no ground for casting
aside the unanimous witness of our authorities and placing any arbitrary
conjecture in its stead. We have first the narrative in the Chronicles.
The three elder versions agree together, with only the smallest verbal
differences; the later Canterbury Chronicle gives the story in an
abridged shape; Florence, William of Malmesbury, and Henry of
Huntingdon, tell essentially the same story. Their versions are plainly
grounded on the history in the Chronicles, seemingly with some help from
contemporary songs. This is especially plain in Henry of Huntingdon. His
narrative of this campaign, like his narrative of the campaign of
Stamfordbridge (see vol. iii. p. 733), is a mere meagre abridgement till
he reaches the battle of Assandun, when he lights up and gives a
spirited account, which evidently comes from a ballad. In all these
accounts, whether coming from Chroniclers or from minstrels, the treason
of Eadric stands out distinctly. And it stands out no less distinctly in
the account given from the Danish side by the author of the Encomium
Emmæ, of which I shall speak more presently.
I will now mention a few points in detail, in which the English writers
differ from one another, or which call for attention on any other
ground.
It is, I think, plain that Eadmund, on leaving London, was at once
accepted by the West-Saxons, or such part of them as he had been able to
reach before he was overtaken by Cnut at Penselwood. These would be the
forces of Somerset, Dorset, Devonshire, and part of Wiltshire. This we
gather from Florence’s account of the battle of Sherstone. The Chronicle
says distinctly, “Eadmund cyng ... gerad þa Westsexon, and him beah eall
folc tó.” So Florence more fully, “Intrepidus West-Saxoniam adiit sine
cunctatione, et ab omni populo magna susceptus gratulatione, suæ ditioni
subegit eam citissime; quibus auditis multi Anglorum populi magna cum
festinatione illi se dederunt voluntarie.”
No doubt, as soon as Eadmund’s standard was once raised, volunteers
would drop in from all parts which were not actually occupied by a
Danish military force. The expressions of Florence implying something
like a conquest, though of course a perfectly willing conquest, of
Wessex by Eadmund will be understood if we remember that Cnut was
actually the acknowledged King, by the choice of all the Witan who were
not actually within the walls of London. I do not quite understand
William of Malmesbury (ii. 180), who seems to think that Eadmund took a
force with him from London (“oppidani Edmundum in regem conclamant.
Ipse, mox congregato exercitu, apud Pennam juxta Gilingeham Danos
fugavit”), and that the West-Saxons did not acknowledge him till after
the battle of Sherstone—“quo facto West-Saxonum conversi animi dominum
legitimum cognoverunt.”
I see no reason to doubt that the Sceorstan of the Chronicles is
Sherstone in Wiltshire, and not Chimney in Oxfordshire, as suggested by
Mr. Thorpe in his note on Florence. Mr. Thorpe objects that Florence
places the battle “in Hwiccia,” and that Sherstone, as being in
Wiltshire, does not answer that description. But Florence also places
the battle of Pen “in Dorsetania,” which Pen Selwood is not, though
Gillingham is. But both Sherstone and Pen Selwood are so near to the
marches of their respective shires, that military operations may well
have extended in both cases beyond the border.