Such is the rise and progress of this famous legend. I venture to think that a better instance of the gradual growth of invention is hardly to be found in the whole range of mythology.
NOTE X. p. 362.
The War with Macbeth.
Several points of dispute are opened by Siward’s expedition against Macbeth. In the popular story Macbeth is killed, and Malcolm is put in full possession of the Kingdom of Scotland, as the immediate result of the battle fought by Siward. On the other hand, authentic history makes Malcolm wage a much longer struggle, as I have mentioned in the text. The point which is left obscure is what share the English allies of Malcolm took in the war after the defeat of Macbeth by Siward.
On the other hand, a question has been raised by Mr. E. W. Robertson, whether the expedition of Siward had anything at all to do with the restoration of Malcolm. I cannot look on this question as much more than a cavil; still it may be as well to state the objection and the answer to it, as coming first in chronological order, before examining the other points.
1. The objection brought by Mr. Robertson (Scotland under her Early Kings, i. 122, 123) against the commonly received view as to the objects of Siward’s expedition seems to rest on no ground except that, as he says, “neither the contemporary Irish annalist, nor the two MSS. of the Chronicle which describe the expedition of Siward, allude to any cause for it, or note any result beyond the immense booty acquired.” “They never,” he adds, “mention the name of Malcolm or of the Confessor.” Elsewhere (ii. 400) Mr. Robertson calls it an “expedition which appears to have been directed against Macbeth on account of the protection he has afforded to the Norman favourites of the Confessor.” Now this last explanation is a mere conjecture of Mr. Robertson’s own. There is not a scrap of evidence in support of it, while on the other side we have the distinct statement of Florence. Florence tells us directly that one object at least of Siward’s expedition was the restoration of Malcolm (“Malcolmum, Regis Cumbrorum filium, ut Rex jusserat, Regem constituit”). He is followed, in nearly the same words, by the Manx Chronicler (1035, Munch, p. 3). Mr. Robertson’s conjecture seems to me to be not only unsupported, but utterly improbable. There is nothing to show that Macbeth had given any further offence by receiving the Norman exiles. They had been allowed to go peaceably into Scotland (see above, p. 346), and some of them had actually been recalled to England. That, being in Scotland, they fought on the Scottish side, does not prove that the war was in any way waged against them. To fight on behalf of the side on which they found themselves for the moment was only the natural conduct of Normans anywhere. And, besides all this, the whole story of these Norman exiles rests on the authority of Florence. It is from him alone that we learn that they took any part in the battle, or indeed that there were any Norman exiles in Scotland at all. If the authority of Florence is good to prove these points, it is surely equally good to prove the objects of the expedition. And it is not merely the authority of Florence; it is Florence confirmed by Simeon of Durham, our best authority for all Northern matters (see X Scriptt. 187). That the Chronicles are silent on some points, that the Peterborough Chronicle is silent altogether, will amaze no one who remembers how capriciously Scottish and Northumbrian affairs are entered or not entered in our national annals. The Abingdon and Worcester Chroniclers were struck with the general greatness of Siward’s exploit, but the cause of Malcolm had no interest for them. The Peterborough Chronicler, the sworn partizan of the house of Godwine, did not trouble himself to take any notice of an event which neither enhanced the glory of Harold nor touched the interests of his own abbey. But the fact that Simeon held Florence’s narrative to be worth copying without addition or alteration at once stamps its authenticity. Simeon’s approval at once sets aside all negative arguments, all talk about the “misrepresentations of Anglo-Norman writers,” whoever may be meant by that name.
Mr. Burton (i. 373) seems to have no doubt about the matter.
2. The nature of Siward’s troops is well marked in the language of the different accounts. The here and the fyrd are clearly distinguished. The Worcester Chronicle (1054) says, “Her ferde Siward Eorl mid miclum here on Scotland, ægðer ge mid sciphere and mid landfyrde.” This Florence translates, “Strenuus Dux Northhymbrorum Siwardus, jussu Regis, cum equestri exercitu et classe validâ Scottiam adiit.” Then, in describing the slaughter of the English, Abingdon says, “Eac feol mycel on his [Siwardes] healfe ægðer ge Densce ge Englisce.” So Florence, “Multi Anglorum et Danorum ceciderunt.” The Worcester Chronicle says, “And of his [Siwardes] huscarla and of þæs cynges wurdon þær ofslægene.” I take the here, the housecarls, and the equestris exercitus, all to be the same thing, and I take the “Danish and English” of one account to answer to the “Housecarls of the Earl and of the King” in the other. The Housecarls were doubtless an “equestris exercitus” in the sense of which I spoke in vol. i. p. 566. They did not fight on horseback, but they, or many of them, rode to battle (see also vol. i. p. 298), while the levies of the shires, no doubt, for the most part walked. The King’s Housecarls, we see, were wholly or mainly Englishmen, chiefly no doubt West-Saxons; those of the Earl would doubtless be Danes in the sense of being inhabitants of the Denalagu, some perhaps in the sense of being actually adventurers from Denmark. The Housecarls now clearly take the place of the old comitatus; the stress of the battle now falls mainly on them, just as of old it fell on the noble youths who fought around Brihtnoth (see vol. i. pp. 91, 298, 490). So, on the Scottish side, we read in the Worcester Chronicle that Siward “feaht wið Scottas ... and ofsloh eall þæt þer betst wæs on þam lande.” The special mention of the Normans comes from Florence; “Multis millibus Scottorum, et Nortmannis omnibus, quorum suprà fecimus mentionem, occisis.” The Ulster Annals (Johnston, 69; O’Conor, Rer. Hib. Scriptt. iv. 334) speak of this battle as “prœlium inter viros Albaniæ et Saxones.” They undertake to give us the numbers of the slain, three thousand on the Scottish side, and fifteen hundred “Saxons.”
3. That Siward lost a son in the battle is asserted by the Abingdon Chronicler and by Florence; but they do not give his name. The Worcester writer is more express. Among the slain were “his sunu Osbarn and his sweoster sunu Sihward.” The story of Siward asking about his son’s wounds is told, and well told, by Henry of Huntingdon (M. H. B. 760 A) and Bromton (X Scriptt. 946). But Henry carries back the story to the year 1052, and both he and Bromton conceive Osbeorn Bulax, as Bromton calls him, to have died in an earlier expedition in which his father had no share. Siward, hearing a satisfactory report of the manner of his son’s death, goes in person and avenges him (“Siwardus igitur in Scotiam proficiscens, Regem bello vicit, regnum totum destruxit, destructum sibi subjugavit”). If there is any meaning in this wild exaggeration, the subjection of Scotland to Siward must mean the establishment of Siward’s kinsman Malcolm as King. But it is hard to make the story of Osbeorn’s death and Siward’s inquiries fit in with the fact that Osbeorn died in a battle in which Siward himself was present. According to the analogies of Maldon and Senlac, the Earl, his son, and his nephew would stand near together in the fight, and there would be no need of messengers to announce the manner of Osbeorn’s death.
Bromton has also preserved another tradition about the death of Osbeorn, which is palpably mythical as it stands, but which seems, in common with several other hints, to point to a strong feeling of disaffection towards Siward as rife in Northumberland. Siward goes into Scotland, leaving Osbeorn as his representative in his Earldom. After his victory he hears that the Northumbrians have revolted and killed his son. He then, in his wrath, performs an exploit like that of Roland in the Pyrenees (“Siwardus inde iratus in scopulo adhuc patente cum securi percussit”); he gives Scotland to Donald (inaccurately for Malcolm), and returns to Northumberland to take a stern vengeance on his enemies (“patriam rediit et inimicos suos in ore gladii percussit”).
4. As to the result of the battle, there can be no doubt. Macbeth was defeated, but not killed. But the false account followed by Shakespere (who also confounds Osbeorn with his cousin the younger Siward) is as old as William of Malmesbury. He speaks (ii. 196) of “Siwardus Northimbrensium [Comes], qui jussu ejus [Edwardi] cum Scotorum Rege Macbethâ congressus, vitâ regnoque spoliavit, ibidemque Malcolmum, filium Regis Cumbrorum, Regem instituit.” It is singular that William should have fallen into an error which not only contradicts the earlier authorities, but which has been avoided by many writers much later and more careless than himself. The agreement on this head is complete. The escape of Macbeth is implied in the words of the Worcester Chronicle (“Siward ... feaht wið Scottas and aflymde þone kyng Macbeoðen”) and of Florence (“illum fugavit”); and it is still plainer in the Abingdon version (“Siward ... mycel wæl of Scottum gesloh, and hig aflymde, and se cing ætbærst”) and in the Biographer (“Rex Scottorum nomine barbarus ... à Siwardo Duce usque ad internecionem penè suorum devictus et in obscœnam fugam est versus.” p. 416). The story in Henry of Huntingdon and Bromton, as we have seen, speaks only of a victory over Macbeth, not of his death. Fordun (v. 7) is equally clear. He quotes and rejects William of Malmesbury’s account, and tells us that Macbeth “partibus subitò relictis australibus boreales petiit, ubi terrarum angustis anfractibus et silvarum abditis tutiùs sperabat se tueri.” He adds that the Scots, unwilling to fight against Malcolm, fled at the first sound of the trumpet, quite a different picture from the hard fought fight spoken of by the English and Irish writers.
5. The distinct statement of Florence that Siward made Malcolm King (“Regem constituit”) does not seem to me to be at all contradicted by the facts that the war lingered on several years, and that Malcolm was not solemnly crowned at Scone till after the death of the competitor who succeeded Macbeth. The result of the battle doubtless was that Malcolm was acknowledged King of Scots by the English King, by at least his own English subjects in Lothian, and probably by the southern parts of Scotland proper (“partes australes” in Fordun just above). But the war still went on in the North. It is worth notice that Florence is satisfied with the practical expression of Eadward’s supremacy—“ut Rex jusserat, Regem constituit.” But Roger of Wendover (i. 493), in whose time the homage of Scotland was becoming a matter of debate, is more special and more feudal in his language. He improves the statement of Florence into “Rex regnum Scotiæ dedit Malcolmo, Cumbrorum Regis filio, de se tenendum.”
6. The remaining events of the war I have described in the text. Our accounts are very meagre, but there can, I think, be little doubt that Malcolm continued to be powerfully supported by English help under Tostig, the successor of Siward. That such was the case is distinctly affirmed by Eadward’s Biographer (416), though, as usual, he wraps his story in such a cloud of words that we cannot make out much as to time, place, or circumstance. Macbeth, the King whose barbarous name he cannot write or remember, was first (“primùm”) defeated by Siward, then by Tostig. “Secundò, ducatum agente Duce Tostino, quum eum Scotti intentatum haberet, et ob hoc in minori pretio habitum, latrocinio potiùs quam bello sæpiùs lacesserent; incertum genus hominum, silvisque potiùs quam campo, fugæ quoque magis fidens quam audaciæ virili in prælio, tam prudenti astutiâ quam virtute bellicâ et hostili expeditione, cum salute suorum prædictus Dux attrivit, ut cum Rege eorum delegerint ei Regique Ædwardo magis servire quam rebellare, id quoque per datos obsides ratum facere.” He then formally declines to go further into the matter. The meaning of the passage is by no means clear. Indeed I do not feel certain whether the Biographer has not confounded Macbeth and Malcolm. It is hard to conceive any time when Macbeth can have given hostages; Malcolm may have done so on his first appointment, or it is possible, though we have no other account of it, that Malcolm’s raid in 1061 (see p. 459) may have been avenged by a Scottish expedition on the part of Tostig. The Biographer’s authority on these matters, which he seems purposely to slight, is far from being so great as it is when he is dealing with those affairs of the Court which went on under his own eye. Still his account shows that a Scottish war of some sort or other, whether against Macbeth or against Malcolm, went on under Tostig as well as under Siward.
The sworn brotherhood again between Tostig and Malcolm (see p. 384) can hardly have any other reference than to a joint war against Macbeth. There is also a statement in Fordun (v. 8), which, though utterly confused as it stands, may probably help us to an important fact. Fordun clearly conceived Siward as continuing to wage war in Scotland after the battle of 1054, for he describes him as being summoned back by Eadward to help in the war against Gruffydd, after the destruction of Hereford in 1055 (“Hoc statim Siwardus, postquam à suo Rege per certum audierat nuncium, confestim jussus domi rediit, nequaquam ulteriùs Malcolmo ferre præsidium rediturus”). Now Siward died in 1055, before the war in Herefordshire began; but, if we read Tostig for Siward, a summons to the Welsh war is in every way probable.
Fordun, though he preserves the fact of Macbeth’s escape from the battle of 1054, confounds that battle with the battle of Lumfanan in 1058, and places them together in 1056, on December 5th (v. 7). Nevertheless he makes (v. 8) the battle to have happened at the same time as Gruffydd’s destruction of Hereford in 1055. But Siward’s battle is fixed by the English Chronicles to 1054, and the battle in which Macbeth died is equally fixed by the Irish Chronicles to 1058. So the Ulster Annals; “Macbeath filius Finnliachi, supremus Rex Albaniæ, occisus est à Malcolmo filio Donnchadi in prœlio.” (See also Robertson, i. 123; Burton, i. 373.) The successor of Macbeth is called by Fordun (v. 8) “suus [Machabei] consobrinus, nomine Lulach, cognomine Fatuus.” Tigernach calls him “Lulacus Rex Albaniæ,” and fixes his death, which was “per dolum,” to 1058. The Ulster Annals call him “Mac Gil Comgen” (see Robertson, i. 120). Mr. Burton (i. 374) calls him a son of Gruach. The coronation of Malcolm comes from Fordun (v. 9). Cf. O’Conor’s note on the Ulster Annals, Rer. Hib. Scriptt. iv. 338.
NOTE Y. p. 370.
The Mission of Ealdred and the Return of the Ætheling Eadward.
The sources of our information with regard to Bishop Ealdred’s mission to the Imperial Court curiously illustrate the occasionally deficient nature of our authorities, and the way in which one writer fills up gaps in another. The mission of Ealdred in 1054 and the return of the Ætheling in 1057 are both of them distinctly recorded in our national Chronicles. They are indeed much more than recorded; each event finds at least one Chronicler to dwell upon it with special interest. But from the Chronicles alone we should never find out that there was any connexion between the two events. The coming of the Ætheling is recorded by the Peterborough writer, and it attracts the special attention of his Worcester brother, who bursts into song on the occasion. But there is not a word in either to connect his coming with the German mission of Ealdred. About that mission the Peterborough writer is silent, just as he is silent about the Scottish war of Siward. Abingdon (1054) records Ealdred’s journey, but says only, “On þam ylcan geare ferde Ealdred biscop suð ofer sǽ into Sexlande, and wearð þær mid mycelre arwarðnesse underfangen.” From this account we might guess, but we could do no more than guess, that Ealdred went in some public character. The Worcester writer is naturally fuller on the doings of his own Bishop; still what chiefly occupies his attention is the “mickle worship” with which Ealdred was received by the Emperor, the long time that he was away, and the arrangements which he made for the discharge of his duties during his absence (see p. 372). He does indeed tell us that Ealdred went on the King’s errand; but he does not tell us what the King’s errand was, any more than he did in recording Ealdred’s earlier mission to Rome in 1049. His words are; “Ðæs ilcan geres for Aldred biscop to Colne ofer sæ, þæs kynges ærende, and wearð þær underfangen mid mycclan weorðscipe fram þam Casere, and þær he wunode wel neh an gér; and him geaf ægðer þeneste, ge se biscop on Colone and se Casere.” So William of Malmesbury (Vit. S. Wlst. Ang. Sacr. ii. 249) looks on the objects of the embassy as best summed up in the Herodotean formula εἰδὼς οὐ λέγω. Ealdred goes to the Emperor, “quædam negotia, quorum cognitionem caussa non flagitat, compositurus.” But he has much to tell us about Ealdred’s reception by the Emperor (“quum in Imperatoriæ Augustæ dignationis oculis invenisset gratiam, aliquot ibi dierum continuatione laborum suorum accepit pausam”), and still more about the presents which he received. As the biographer of Wulfstan, he could not fail to tell us about two service-books in which Wulfstan was deeply interested (see p. 462), and which Ealdred now received as a present from the Emperor. In his history he does speak of an embassy to bring about the return of the Ætheling, but he altogether misconceives the circumstances (see p. 371), he makes no mention of Ealdred, and he fancies that the embassy went direct to Hungary (“Rex Edwardus ... misit ad Regem Hunorum.” ii. 228). It is from Florence, and from Florence only, that we get a complete and accurate filling up of all our gaps. He tells us, under 1054, “Aldredus Wigorniensis Episcopus ... magnis cum xeniis Regis fungitur legatione ad Imperatorem, à quo simul et ab Herimanno Coloniensi archipræsule magno susceptus honore, ibidem per integrum annum mansit, et Regis ex parte Imperatori suggessit ut, legatis Ungariam missis, inde fratruelem suum Eadwardum, Regis videlicet Eadmundi Ferrei Lateris filium, reduceret, Angliamque venire faceret.” We now know what the King’s errand was on which Ealdred was sent, and, knowing that it was to bring back the Ætheling, we might guess for ourselves why the Ætheling was to be brought back. But Florence afterwards expressly tells us this also, under the year 1057; “Decreverat enim Rex illum post se regni hæredem constituere.”
That Ealdred had Abbot Ælfwine for his companion in this embassy (see p. 372), I infer from a remarkable entry in Domesday (208) which can have no other meaning. Land in Huntingdonshire is said to have been granted by Eadward “Sancto Benedicto de Ramesy, propter unum servitium quod Abbas Alwinus fecit ei in Saxoniâ.” I can conceive no other service in Saxony which Ælfwine could have rendered to the King, save this share in Ealdred’s mission to “Sexland.” Ælfwine’s former mission to Rheims is not to the purpose, as no geography can put Rheims in Saxony. Nor do I understand the remark of Sir Henry Ellis (i. 306), that we have here “an allusion to the Confessor’s residence abroad before he came to the throne.” What dealings had Eadward with Saxony in those days? The only difficulty is that the local historian of Ramsey, who is very full on the doings of Ælfwine, and who speaks of his going to Rheims, says nothing of his embassy to Köln. But the silence of this writer has equally to be explained on any other view of the “servitium in Saxoniâ.”
One would like to know a little more than we do about the residence of the Æthelings in Hungary, and the position which they held there. We do not know what became of their mother Ealdgyth, whether they were accompanied by any English attendants, or whether they kept up any kind of intercourse with England. Eadmund must have died young; at least this seems to be implied by William of Malmesbury (ii. 180), who says that the children reached Hungary “ubi, dum benignè aliquo tempore habiti sunt, major diem obiit.” (“Processu temporis ibidem vitam finivit,” says Florence, 1017.) But William’s ideas must have been a little confused, as he makes the Æthelings themselves go to Hungary (“Hunorum Regem petierunt”), as if they were capable of personal action, whereas it is plain that they were still mere babes.
William of Malmesbury also makes Eadward marry a sister of the Queen of the Hungarians. That is, I suppose, the meaning of his words, “Minor Agatham Reginæ sororem in matrimonium accepit.” I have not found, in such German and Hungarian writers as I have been able to refer to, any mention of Eadward’s marriage, or indeed of his sojourn in Hungary at all. But there is no doubt that the wife of Saint Stephen, who was reigning in Hungary when the Æthelings came there, and who died in 1038, was Gisla, called by the Hungarians Keisla, a sister of the Emperor Henry the Second. See Ekkehard, ap. Pertz, vi. 192. Sigebert, Chron. 1010 (ap. Pertz, vi. 354); Annalista Saxo, 1002, 1038 (Pertz, vi. 650, 682). Thwrocz, Chron. Hung. ii. 30 (Scriptt. Rer. Hung. 96). Her sister would therefore be a sister of the sainted Emperor himself, whose Imperial reign lasted from 1014 to 1024. A sister of Henry and Gisla could hardly fail to be many years older than Eadward, and we might have expected to find some record of the marriage, whereas we do not even find any sister of the Emperor Henry available for the purpose. There can be no doubt that Agatha was not a sister, but a more distant kinswoman of the Emperor, most probably a niece. The poem in the Worcester Chronicle (1057) says more vaguely, “He begeat þæs Caseres mága to wife ... seo wæs Agathes gehaten:” and so again in the later entry in 1067, “Hire [Margaret’s] modor cynn gæð to Heinrice Casere, þe hæfde anwald ofer Rome.” Florence (1017) says more distinctly, “Eadwardus Agatham, filiam germani Imperatoris Heinrici in matrimonium accepit.” Mr. Thorpe, in his note on the passage in Florence, following Suhm, makes her the daughter of the Emperor’s brother Bruno, who was Bishop of Augsburg from 1007 to 1029 (Ann. Aug. ap. Pertz, iii. 124, 125). The local Annals speak of him as “beatæ memoriæ;” but he seems to have been a turbulent Prelate, and a great thorn in the side of his Imperial brother. See Ekkehard, u. s. Arnold de Sancto Emmerammo, ii. 57 (ap. Pertz, iv. 571), Adalbold, Vit. Henr. II. c. 24 (ap. Pertz, iv. 689), Adalbert, Vit. Henr. II. 20 (ap. Pertz, iv. 805, 811). If this genealogy be correct, later English royalty is connected with the Old-Saxon stock in an unlooked for way.
Orderic has a more amazing version than all. He makes (701 D) the Ætheling marry the daughter of Solomon, and receive the Kingdom of Hungary as her dower. He distinctly calls Eadward King of the Huns; “Hæc [Margarita] nimirùm filia fuit Eduardi Regis Hunorum, qui fuit filius Edmundi cognomento Irnesidæ, fratris Eduardi Regis Anglorum, et exsul conjugem accepit cum regno filiam Salomonis Regis Hunorum.”
The delay in the arrival of the Ætheling (see pp. 373, 409) was very probably caused by the wars between the Empire and the Hungarian Kings who succeeded Stephen. Before the war with Andrew mentioned in the text, Henry the Third had an earlier Hungarian war, waged against the usurper Ouban on behalf of Peter the predecessor of Andrew, by whom Peter was blinded. See Lambert, 1041–1046. On the relations between Henry, Andrew, and Conrad of Bavaria, see Hermann Contr. 1053 (ap. Pertz, v. 133), whose account, as usual, it is not easy to reconcile with the Hungarian traditions preserved by Thwrocz. But there must be something wrong when Lappenberg (517) says, “Wahrscheinlich verzögerte die zwischen dem Kaiser und dem König Andreas von Ungarn damals ausgebrochene Fehde, sowie der Tod des Letztern, und bald darauf der des Kaisers, die Ausführung dieses Planes.” The Emperor died in 1056; but Andrew, who began to reign in 1047, did not die till 1060 or 1061, when he fell in battle against his brother Bela, three or four years after the return and death of Eadward in 1057. See Thwrocz, Rer. Hung. Scriptt. 108–112. Lambert, 1061.
NOTE Z. p. 379.
The Supposed Enmity between Harold and Tostig.
There is absolutely nothing in any trustworthy writer to lead us to believe that there was any sort of quarrel between Harold and his brother Tostig before the Northumbrian revolt in 1065. We have seen (p. 376) that Tostig’s appointment to his Earldom had, to say the least, Harold’s active concurrence, and we shall find the two brothers acting as zealous fellow-workers in the great Welsh war. Even at the time of the revolt, we shall find Harold doing all that he could to reconcile Tostig with his enemies. But the fact that the result of that revolt made Tostig an enemy of his brother seems to have taken possession of the minds of legendary writers, and a myth has grown up on this subject akin to the myths which have attached themselves to so many other parts of the history of Godwine and his house.
The earliest form of the legend seems to be that which it takes in Æthelred (X Scriptt. 394). The King and Godwine are sitting at dinner—everything seems to happen when the King and Godwine are sitting at dinner—the two boys (“pueri adhuc”) Harold and Tostig are playing before them, when suddenly the game becomes rather too rough (“amariùs quam expetebat ludi suavitas”), and the play is changed into a fight. Harold then, the stronger of the two, seizes his brother by the hair, throws him on the ground, and is well nigh throttling him, when Tostig is luckily carried off. The King turns to his father-in-law, and asks him whether he sees nothing more in all this than the sports or quarrels of two naughty boys. The unenlightened mind of the Earl can see nothing more. But the Saint takes the occasion to prophesy, and he foretells the war which would happen between the two brothers, and how the death of the one would be avenged by the death of the other.
This story is at all events well put together, and it makes a very fair piece of hagiology. It is however some objection to it that neither Harold nor Tostig could have been a mere boy at any time after Eadward’s accession. It might be too much to think that the author of the French Life saw this difficulty, but at any rate he changes the “pueri adhuc” of Æthelred into “juvenceus pruz e hardiz” (3140). Otherwise he tells the story in exactly the same way, only enlarging with a little more of Homeric precision on the details of the violence done by Harold to his brother. But the story, like other stories, soon grew, and there is another version of it, much fuller and much more impossible, which first appears in Henry of Huntingdon (M. H. B. 761 A), and afterwards in Roger of Wendover (i. 507) and Bromton (948). The tale is now transferred to the year 1064, when Harold and Tostig were the two greatest men in the Kingdom, when Harold was probably the understood successor to the Crown, when he was at any rate in all the glory of his victories over Gruffydd. The two brothers are described as being at enmity, because, though Tostig was the elder brother, Harold was the greater personal favourite of the King “invidiæ namque et odii fomitem ministraverat, quod, quum Tosti ipse primogenitus esset, arctiùs a rege frater suus diligeretur”). I need hardly say how utterly the real position of the two brothers is here reversed. The King is dining at Windsor, where Harold acts as cup-bearer. Tostig, seeing the favour enjoyed by his brother, cannot keep himself back from pulling his hair (“non potuit cohibere manus a cæsarie fratris”). In Henry’s account Harold seems to bear the insult quite patiently, but in the version of Roger of Wendover he not unnaturally lifts Tostig up in his arms and throws him violently on the floor (“in pavimentum truculenter projecit”). On this the King’s Thegns (“milites”) rush together from all quarters, and put an end to the strife between the renowned warriors (“bellatores inclitos ab invicem diviserunt”). The King now foretells the destruction of the two brothers, but in this version he of course foretells it as something which is to happen speedily (“Rex perniciem eorum jam appropinquare prædixit, et iram Dei jam non differendam”). It is here that both Henry and Roger, and Bromton also, bring in that general complaint of the wickedness of the sons of Godwine which I have quoted elsewhere (see p. 541). Tostig now hastens to Hereford, where Harold was preparing a great feast for the King; he there kills all his brother’s servants, cuts them in pieces, mixes their blood and flesh with the wine, ale, and mead which was made ready for the feast, and sends a message to the King that he need not bring any salted meat with him, as he will find plenty of flesh ready at Hereford. On this Eadward orders Tostig into banishment.
The one faint glimmering of truth in all this seems to be that the authors of the legend were clearly aware that in 1064 the Earldom of Herefordshire was in the hands of Harold. R. Higden (Polychronicon, lib. vi. Gale, ii. 281) tells the story in nearly the same words as the earlier form, but he places it in 1056. Knighton (2333) seemingly does the same, though he copies the words of his story from the version which makes the disputants only naughty boys. M. de Bonnechose (ii. 116, 118) seems to believe the whole story, and he makes it a subject of grave political reflexions. Mr. Woodward (History of Wales, p. 214) thinks that the cannibal doings of Tostig arise from some confusion with the doings of Caradoc at Portskewet (see above, p. 480). This is possible, but the details of the story belong to the province of Comparative Mythology. They appear again in the well known Scottish legend of the Douglas Larder.
It has sometimes struck me that a good deal of this talk is due to an exaggerated misunderstanding of one or two passages in the Biographer, where his classical vein has led him into rather wild flights. The war between brother and brother—the war, of course, of Stamfordbridge—reminds him of all the ancient tales of wars and quarrels between brothers. He twice (pp. 414, 424) breaks out into verse upon the subject, and, in both cases, the Theban legend, the war of Eteoklês and Polyneikês, not unnaturally presents itself. But he also (v. 834) talks about Cain and Abel, and, by a still more unlucky allusion, about Atreus and Thyestês. Having once got hold of these names, he goes on to tell their whole story. He personifies discord between brothers, and thus apostrophizes the evil genius;
Here, it strikes me, is quite raw material enough for a legend-maker. The word “ludis” may have suggested the “pueri ludentes” in Æthelred, and I have very little doubt that the mention of Thyestês (who, by the by, is made to change parts with Atreus) suggested the cannibal preparations of Tostig at Hereford.
In several of these stories we see the pervading mistake of thinking that Tostig was the elder brother. In some of them we also see the notion, which turns up in several other quarters, that Harold was the King’s personal favourite and attendant, his “dapifer,” “pincerna,” “major domûs,” or something of the kind. It is possible that Harold in his youth, during the first year or two of Eadward’s reign, may have held some function of the kind, which may account for the tradition. (Cf. p. 78, note 3.) But the notion that Tostig was the elder brother (see above, p. 554) has led to far graver misrepresentations. The enmity of Tostig towards Harold, which really arose out of the revolt of Northumberland, gets mixed up with perverted accounts of Harold’s election to the Kingdom. Orderic (492 D) seems to have fancied that Tostig was not only the eldest son of Godwine, but that Tostig, and not Harold, succeeded his father in the West-Saxon Earldom, and that by hereditary right (“patris consulatus, quem Tosticus, quia major natu erat, longo tempore sub Eduardo rege jam tenuerat”). On Harold’s election as King, Tostig begins to reprove his brother for his usurpation and oppressions (“advertens Heraldi fratris sui prævalere facinus et regnum Angliæ variis gravari oppressionibus ægrè tulit”); Harold accordingly deprives him of his Earldom and banishes him. The strangest thing of all is that William of Malmesbury, who, in the proper place (ii. 200), gives a very fair account of the Northumbrian revolt, and one highly favourable to Harold, should afterwards (iii. 252) represent Harold as banishing Tostig after his accession. After Eadward’s death, he says “perstitit in incœpto Haroldus ut fratrem exlegaret.” Snorro (Johnstone, 192, 193. Laing, iii. 77, 78) makes Tostig the elder brother, the head Earl of the Kingdom, and the commander of the King’s armies. Harold, the youngest brother, is Eadward’s personal favourite, he is always about him, and—having seemingly supplanted Hugolin the Frenchman—has the care of all his treasures. Here again the real position of the two brothers is amusingly transposed. On Harold’s election as King, Tostig, who had himself aspired to the Crown, is much displeased, and has sharp words with his brother. Harold of course refuses to surrender the Crown, and, fearing the ability and popularity of Tostig, he deprives him of his command of the army and of his precedence over other Earls. Tostig, unwilling to be the subject of his brother, leaves the country of his own free will and goes to Flanders. Saxo (207) is one degree less wild, in so far as he realizes that Harold was the elder brother. In his version, after Harold’s election, his younger brothers generally (“minores Godovini filii majorem perosi”)—Gyrth and Leofwine no doubt as well as Tostig—envious of their brother’s election and unwilling to submit to his authority, leave the country and seek for help abroad.
It is needless to point out how, in all these versions, the chronology is altered, as well as the whole circumstances of the story, in order to represent Harold as the oppressor of his brother. But it should be remarked that these calumnies are of a wholly different kind from the calumnies which speak of an early quarrel, and that the two in effect exclude one another. In the versions of Orderic, Saxo, and Snorro, the enmity between the brothers does not begin till after Harold’s election to the Kingdom.
It may be some refreshment to wind up with the amusing version of Peter Langtoft, who, by the way, seems to have thought that Godwine was still alive in 1065. He at least has no spite against Harold; he even (p. 64 Hearne) tells the story of the murder of Gospatric, the blame of which he ventures to lay on the Lady Eadgyth (“My boke ... sais þe quene Egyn, þe blame suld scho bere”); he then goes on;
NOTE AA. p. 391.
Æthelstan, Bishop of Hereford.
Professor Stubbs places the consecration of Æthelstan in 1012. This seems to be the right year, because in that year we find his first signature (“Æðelstanus episcopus,” Cod. Dipl. vi. 165), as well as the last signature (Cod. Dipl. iii. 357) of his predecessor Athulf—he seems always to use this contracted form. At first sight this date seems inconsistent with a document in Cod. Dipl. iv. 234, one to which I have already referred for another purpose (p. 563), in which “Eþelstan Bisceop” is said to have bought lands in Worcestershire of Leofric—perhaps the famous Earl while still a private man in his father’s lifetime—the purchase of which was witnessed by the two Archbishops Ælfheah and Wulfstan. Now Ælfheah, taken captive in September 1011 (see vol. i. p. 385), can neither have consecrated Æthelstan in 1012 nor yet have witnessed a purchase made by him in that year. The transaction spoken of in the document must belong to an earlier time. But the document itself was not written till long after. Many years after the purchase (“æfter þysan manegum gearum”)—at some time between the accession of Cnut and the death of Ealdorman Leofwine—Wulfstan and his son Wulfric tried to disturb Æthelstan in its possession, but a compromise was come to in the Scirgemót of Worcestershire, in which Leofwine, Hakon (see p. 563), and Leofric were present.
The explanation doubtless is that, in a deed drawn up so long after, Æthelstan is spoken of by a title which belonged to him then, but which did not belong to him at the time of the purchase. As for his consecration in 1012, there seems to be no evidence as to the consecrator, but it could not have been Ælfheah.
NOTE BB. p. 416.
The Family of Leofric.
I know of no authority for any children of Leofric and Godgifu except Earl Ælfgar. It is hardly needful to refute the notion, entertained even by Sir Henry Ellis (ii. 146), that Hereward was a son of the Mercian Earl. On this score even the false Ingulf is guiltless. The mistake arose solely from a late and blundering genealogical roll, printed in the Chroniques Anglo-Normandes, ii. xii. The same roll gives Leofric a third nameless son, who was a child “tertium parvulum cujus nomen non habetur”) at the coming in of William, and was beheaded for the sake of his inheritance. Leofric died an old man in 1057; a son of his could hardly be “parvulus” in 1066. This family seems to have been picked out (see above, vol. i. p. 457) as the special sport of pedigree-makers.
Mr. C. H. Pearson (i. 367) attributes the mistake about Hereward to Sir Francis Palgrave, who is quite guiltless of it. See his History, iii. 467.
Ælfgar’s wife bore the name of Ælfgifu. She appears in Domesday in a form which clearly shows that she survived the Conquest, that she retained her lands, or parts of them, but that she was dead at the time of the Survey. In Leicestershire (231 b) there is a special heading, “Terra Alvevæ Comitissæ,” and in Suffolk (ii. 286 b) one of “Terra Matris Morchari Comitis.” But the word used is not “tenet” but “tenuit.” Cf. also Nottinghamshire, 280 b. I know not on what authority pedigree-makers affirm her to have been a Frenchwoman, sister of William Malet. If so, she must, like the Lady Emma, have changed her name at her marriage. Possibly it was a standing rule that all wives from beyond sea should take the name of Ælfgifu, as if they had come from Elfland.
Of the children of Ælfgar and Ælfgifu, their two famous or infamous sons, Eadwine and Morkere, need no mention here. The existence of a third son, Burchard (see pp. 455, 459), depends on the amount of trust which we may give to a charter preserved in the local history of Rheims, quoted by Sir Henry Ellis (i. 325); “Notum sit Algarum quemdam, Anglorum Comitem, consentiente Edwardo Anglorum Rege, Sancto Remigio villam de Lapeleiâ dedisse pro animâ filii sui Burchardi, cujus corpus in polyandrio ecclesiæ quiescit.” Lapley in Northamptonshire and other property belonged at the time of the Survey, not to “the Church of Rheims,” as Sir Henry Ellis says, but to “Saint Remigius of Rheims” (Domesday, 222 b), that is, to the Abbey. The English estate, we are told, grew into a Priory. (I do not know Lapley Priory in Northamptonshire, but there was a Priory of that name in Staffordshire, much more in Ælfgar’s own country, whose church survives.) Now the name Burchard (Burhhard?), though borne by several men T. R. E., can hardly be called a common English name. This name, and the apparent devotion of Ælfgar and his son to the Abbey of Rheims, are by no means enough to prove the foreign origin of Ælfgifu, but they certainly fall in with the tradition.
About the personality of Ealdgyth, daughter of Ælfgar, and wife successively of Gruffydd and Harold, there is no doubt. Florence mentions her incidentally under 1066, as the widow of Harold, and the sister of Eadwine and Morkere. She appears also in Domesday (238 b), where it is said of lands in Warwickshire belonging to Coventry Abbey, “Hanc terram tenuit Aldgid uxor Grifin.” At the time of the Survey it had passed from her to Osbern of Herefordshire, who had sold it to the Abbot. William of Jumièges also says (vii. 31) that Harold “Grithfridi quoque Regis Wallorum, postquam hostilis eum gladius peremit, pulcram conjugem Aldith, præclari Comitis Algari filiam, sibi uxorem junxit.” So Orderic, 492 D; “Ipse [Heraldus] Edgivam sororem eorum [Edwini et Morcari] uxorem habebat, quæ priùs Gritfridi fortissimi Regis Guallorum conjunx fuerat.” He goes on to say that she had borne two children to Gruffydd, “Blidenum regni successorem”—a confusion with Gruffydd’s brother or kinsman Blethgent—and a daughter named Nest. Benoît de Ste. More has a very curious account of Ealdgyth (Chron. Ang. Norm. i. 178);