This battle is not mentioned in the Abingdon and Worcester Chronicles. Peterborough, followed by Canterbury, places it in 1025. No enemies but Swedes are spoken of, and their commanders are called Ulf and Eglaf. “Þær comon ongean Ulf and Eglaf and swiðe mycel here, ægðer ge landhere ge sciphere of Swaðeode.” Many of Cnut’s men, both Danish and English, are killed, “and þa Sweon hæfdon weallstowe geweald.” As for the place of the battle, Cnut is said to go “to Denmearcon mid scipon to þam Holme æt ea þære halgan.” See Earle, Parallel Chronicles, p. 342; only I do not understand how the “Helge-Aa” could be “then the boundary between Sweden and the Danish possessions,” as the old frontier of Sweden and Scania lies some way to the north of that river.
Ulf and Eglaf are doubtless the sons of Rognvald and Ingebiorg, of whom Snorro speaks in the Saga of Saint Olaf, c. 95 (Laing, ii. 119). At any rate the Ulf spoken of cannot be Ulf the son of Thorgils and brother of Gytha (see above, Note FFF), nor can Eglaf be the Eglaf whom we have already heard of (see p. 447). But both Snorro in c. 159 (Laing, ii. 246) and Saxo (194, 195) agree in making no mention of the sons of Rognvald, and in making Cnut fight the battle against the two Kings Olaf of Norway and Omund of Sweden. They also agree in bringing in Ulf the son of Thorgils; only they bring him in in quite different characters. Saxo makes him a traitor who has invited the combined Swedish and Norwegian invasion, while Snorro makes him redeem former misdeeds by saving Cnut when in great danger. In the Annales Islandorum (Langebek, iii. 40) the date is given as 1027 and the death of Ulf Thorgilsson is placed in the same year.
We can hardly be wrong in accepting the presence of Omund and Olaf on the combined witness of all the Scandinavian writers. But the two Ulfs and Eglaf are puzzling. It has sometimes struck me that “Ulf and Eglaf” in our Chroniclers may be a mistake for “Ulf and Olaf,” taking of course Saxo’s view of the conduct of Ulf Thorgilsson. The Peterborough writer might very easily get wrong in his Ulfs, but he was hardly likely to mistake Saint Olaf, whose history he knew very well, for a man of such small renown as Eglaf Rognvaldsson.
It must not be forgotten that it is to this battle that William of Malmesbury and other writers have, with an utter misconception of the result of the battle, transferred Godwine’s exploit of 1019. See above, p. 743. Henry of Huntingdon translates the Peterborough Chronicle. Florence, following Abingdon and Worcester, is silent.
Cnut, according to Saxo (196), was lord of six kingdoms; “sex præpollentium regnorum possessor effectus.” But he does not give their names. His commentator Stephanius (p. 212) says, “nempe Daniæ, Sveciæ, Norvegiæ, Angliæ, Sclaviæ, Sembiæ” [Semba or Samland in Eastern Prussia?]. The Encomiast (ii. 19) says, “Quum rex Cnuto solum imprimis Danorum obtineret regimen, quinque regnorum, scilicet Danomarchiæ, Angliæ, Britanniæ, Scotiæ, Nordwegæ, vendicato dominio, Imperator exstitit.” Swegen Aggesson (c. 5; Lang. i. 54) outdoes them all. Cnut’s empire extends over the adjoining realms (“circumjacentia regna suo aggregavit Imperio”) from Thule to the Byzantine frontier (“ab ultima Thyle usque ad Græcorum ferme Imperium”), taking in, seemingly, not five or six, but ten kingdoms; “quippe Hyberniam, Angliam, Galliam, Italiam, Longobardiam, Teotoniam, Norwagiam, Sclaviam, cum Sambia sibi subjugavit.” Swegen clearly believes in three Empires, Greek, German, and Scandinavian. His exaggerations may be compared with the exaggerations of Dudo and Rudolf Glaber with regard to the Norman Dukes. On the other hand, Prior Godfrey (Satirical Poets, ii. 148) allows Cnut only three kingdoms, the three most obvious,
The Danish writers thus paint Cnut as at least the equal of Conrad; but I am not quite sure that Wipo, in a passage already quoted (see p. 752), where he describes Conrad at his Imperial coronation as walking between the two Kings Cnut and Rudolf, has not a lurking wish to imply that Cnut stood in much the same relation to Conrad that Rudolf did. And the circumstances of the visit, the sight of Pope and Cæsar in all their glory in the old home of both, would be very likely to impress the mind of the still newly-converted lord of Northern Europe, and to make him feel somewhat less Imperial than he felt either at Winchester or at Roskild. But even in Wipo’s account there is nothing to make us think that Cnut did more than yield to Conrad the formal precedence to which he was certainly entitled, and above all at such a moment.
As to the marriage of Gunhild to King Henry there is no kind of doubt; but the plain fact has been clouded over with many fables. That the betrothal took place during the reign of Cnut I infer from the account of Adam of Bremen (ii. 54), who after talking largely of Cnut, Archbishop Unwan of Hamburg, and the Emperor Conrad, goes on to say; “Cum rege Danorum sive Anglorum, mediante archiepiscopo [Unwan], fecit pacem. Cujus etiam filiam Imperator filio suo deposcens uxorem, dedit ei civitatem Sliaswig cum marcha quæ trans Egdoram est, in fœdus amicitiæ; et ex eo tempore fuit regum Daniæ.” But there is no doubt that the marriage was not celebrated till 1036, when Cnut was dead. See Wipo, c. 35, who calls the bride Cunehildis, and the Hildesheim Annals in anno (Pertz, iii. 100), where we read that “regina Cunihild nomine ... in natali Apostolorum regalem coronam accepit et mutato nomine in benedictione Cunigund dicta est.” See also Hepidanni Annales in anno (ap. Duchesne, Rer. Franc. Scriptt. iii. 479). William of Malmesbury (ii. 188) is so far accurate as to place the marriage after Cnut’s death, but he tells the story with great confusion. He grows specially eloquent on the splendour of the bride’s progress, just as Roger of Wendover (iv. 332 et seqq.) does over the marriage of Isabella, daughter of John, with Frederick the Second; but William makes Harthacnut send his sister from England, though Harthacnut certainly was not there in 1036, and he seems to place the marriage after the trial and acquittal of Godwine in 1041. It was probably this confusion which led him to speak of Henry as “Imperator Alemannorum,” for though Henry did not become Emperor till 1046, yet his father died in 1039, leaving to Henry, as Wipo (c. 39) says, “regni rem, Imperii autem spem, bene locatam.” Wace also (Roman de Rou, 6552) tells us;
Besides that Henry was not yet Emperor, the marriage was (see the Hildesheim Annals, u. s.) not celebrated at Rome but at Nimwegen. Gunhild died July 18th, 1038, “quasi in limine vitæ,” as Wipo (c. 37) says, before the death of Conrad. There is another inaccurate account of the marriage in Heming’s Worcester Cartulary, 267 (Monasticon, i. 596), where the bridegroom is described as “Imperator Cono” and Brihtheah, Bishop of Worcester, appears as one of the bride’s suite; “Idem vero episcopus Brihtegus quodam in tempore ad Saxoniam Gunnildæ, Cnuti regis filiæ, ductor exstitit, quum eam Imperator Cono uxorem duceret, et quemdam ministrum sibi valde carum, Hearlewinum nomine, socium itineris secus habuit.” But the mistakes of all these writers seem pardonable when we turn to the wonderful romance which some of the Scandinavian writers have devised by rolling together the Roman pilgrimage of Cnut, the marriage of Gunhild, and seemingly also the Italian expedition of Conrad and Henry, which happened (see Wipo, c. 35) soon after Henry’s marriage. Saxo (196) is comparatively brief. After the description of Cnut as lord of six kingdoms, he tells us how he married Gunhild to Henry and then went and restored the authority of his son-in-law over certain rebels in Italy. “Canutus ... eximio sui fulgore etiam Romanum illustravit Imperium. Enimvero ejus principi Henrico filiam Gunnildam nuptum tradidit, eumdemque paullo post Italica consternatione perculsum auxilio prosequutus, pristinæ fortunæ, pressa rebellium conspiratione, restituit.” Swegen Aggesson (c. 5; Langebek, i. 54) is much fuller. Henry, already Emperor, marries Gunhild; he is driven from Rome by a sedition, and comes to crave help of his father-in-law (“quem quum Romani tumultuaria seditione a regio pepulissent solio, socerum adiens ejus auxilium imploravit”). Cnut, seemingly glad of the chance (“nactus occasionem illustris ille præcluisque Kanutus”), sets out to avenge his wrongs. On the road, seemingly by way of pastime, he ravages Gaul (“assumpto exercitu suo, primo Galliam depopulando invasit”); he then harries Lombardy and Italy, which, it will be remembered, Swegen had already reckoned as separate kingdoms, and compels the Romans to receive their Emperor back again (“multimoda virtute compulit Romanos civitatem sibi resignare, tandemque Imperatorem et generum throno suo restituit”). He then goes to France, which is seemingly looked on as something different from Gaul; yet most certainly Latin and not Teutonic Francia is intended, for Cnut goes to Tours (“cum ingenti tripudio ad Franciam usque commeavit, Turonisque profectus,” &c.) and carries off thence (“potenter secum asportavit”) the relics of Saint Martin, which he translates to Rouen, on account of his great love for that city; “eo quod illam [Rothomagum] præ ceteris specialem diligeret.” This wild talk about Rouen must be compared with another equally wild tale which I shall have to mention presently about Cnut dying before Rouen.
It is no wonder that Swegen’s editor says, “Mirum est Suenonem et in hoc et in plurimis historiæ Canuti M. momentis adeo hallucinatum esse.” Swegen wrote about 1186, in the days of Frederick Barbarossa and Henry the Sixth, and it is worth noting how thoroughly both he and his elder contemporary Wace look on the Roman Emperor as the local sovereign of Rome, in opposition to William of Malmesbury’s slipshod talk about “Imperator Alemannorum.”
About Gunhild, William of Malmesbury has a legend which is the same as that of Sir Aldingar and Queen Eleanor in Percy’s Reliques. The King’s name in both tales is Henry. Gunhild left a daughter, Beatrice, Abbess of Quedlingburg (see Struvius, i. 355). The only English princess, Matilda daughter of Henry the Second, who was the mother of an Emperor, was not the wife of an Emperor or even of a King.
On the cession of Sleswick, Adam, as quoted in the text, seems quite explicit. On the Eider as the boundary of the Carolingian Empire, see the Annals of Einhard, 808, 811, 815, 828, and the Annals of Fulda (Pertz, i. 355 et seqq.), 811, 857, 873. Nothing can be plainer than the last passage, “fluvium nomine Egidoram, qui illos [Danos] et Saxones dirimit.” In saying that it remained the boundary till 1866, I should perhaps except the time of confusion, 1806–1814, when the Roman Empire had been dissolved and when the German Confederation had not yet been founded. During these years Holstein, the “Transalbiana Saxonia” of Einhard, was united to the kingdom of Denmark by an act as regular as any act of that irregular time.
Ælfred is a name so purely English that the presumption in favour of the English birth of any one bearing it in this generation is extremely strong. There is no doubt that Ælfred is the name intended. The giant is “Alvredus cognomento gigas” in William of Jumièges, and “Alvredus” is the name by which he calls the English Ætheling Ælfred. In the Roman de Rou he is “Auvere,” “Alverei,” “Alvere;” the Ætheling is “Auvered” and “Alvred.” So in Mary of France (see Roquefort, ii. 34 and vol. iii. p. 572, iv. p. 796, v. p. 594) Ælfred appears as “Auvert,” “Auvres,” “Alurez,” “Affrus.” The only chance against Ælfred being an Englishman is the chance—a somewhat faint one, I think—that the name may also have been in use among the Saxons of Bayeux. M. Pluquet (Roman de Rou, ii. 17) says that the name is still common in the district, seemingly under the form of “Auvray.” But “Auvray” may be “Alberic;” and we shall find that Ælfred and Eadward were just the two English names which we shall find that a later generation of Normans did adopt.
I have a note, but I cannot lay my hand on the reference, of a charter of Hugh Capet in 967 signed by “Alfredus monachus;” and “Alfridus abbas Sancti Vulmari” signs in 1026 (Chron. Sithiense, p. 175) a charter of Baldwin, Bishop of Terouanne. These two can hardly be the same man, but both may be Englishmen. It is more singular to find the name in Italy. Yet we read in Donizo’s Life of the Countess Matilda (Murat. v. 372),
Was the mount called from any English pilgrim, the great King himself perhaps, or did any cognate name exist among Goths or Lombards? The elfish names are mainly English; yet Elberich is said to be the same as Ælfric, and Alboin as Ælfwine. See Miss Yonge’s Christian Names, ii. 346, 347.
Our Ælfred signs two charters with the title of “vicecomes,” one in 1025 and one in 1027. He afterwards became a monk at Cerisy. Roman de Rou, 8717 et seqq. He seems (see Neustria Pia, 660) to have left a son William and a daughter who bears the odd-sounding name of Athselinoc. Can this be a corruption of any English name beginning with æðel?
The Norman and English writers do not mention the marriage of Robert and Estrith. It is asserted by Saxo, Adam of Bremen, and Rudolf Glaber. But the two former tell the story with much confusion, making Estrith marry, not Robert, but Richard. They both connect this marriage with Cnut’s own marriage with Emma. Saxo’s words (p. 193) are; “Quum Anglorum rebus obtentis nectendam cum finitimis amicitiam decrevisset, Normanniæ præfecti [an odd title] Roberti filiam Immam matrimonio duxit, ejusque fratri Rikardo sororem Estritham conjugio potiendam permisit.” The utter confusion of Saxo’s ideas about the Norman Dukes is manifest. Adam (ii. 52) says; “Chnud regnum Adalradi accepit uxoremque ejus Immam nomine, quæ fuit soror comitis Nortmannorum Rikardi. Cui rex Danorum suam dedit germanam Margaretam pro fœdere. Quam deinde Chnut, repudiatam a comite, Wolf duci Angliæ dedit.... Et Rikardus quidem comes, declinans iram Chnut, Jherosolimam profectus, ibidem obiit, relinquens filium in Nortmannia nomine Rodbertum, cujus filius est iste Willelmus quem Franci Bastardum vocant.” Here we get a little light. The marriages of Richard the Good with Judith and Papia are well ascertained, and there is no room left for a marriage with Estrith. But, as Lappenberg remarks (479. Eng. Tr. ii. 217), Adam’s mention of the pilgrimage to Jerusalem shows that Robert is the person really meant among all this confusion. Lastly, Rudolf Glaber, a better authority on such a point than Saxo or even than Adam, steps in to settle the matter. He describes (iv. 6. p. 47) Robert’s pilgrimage to Jerusalem and his death without lawful issue, “quamlibet sororem Anglorum regis Canuc manifestum est duxisse uxorem, quam odiendo divortium fecerat.” This seems to put the fact of a marriage between Robert and Estrith on firm ground. Among the Danish annalists, the Esrom Annals (Lang. i. 236) simply copy Adam of Bremen; those of Roskild (Lang. i. 377) tell the same tale in different words; “Kanutus victor exsistens, ipsam Ymmam duxit uxorem, genuitque ex ea filium Hartheknud. Kanutus Ricardo suam dedit sororem nomine Estrid. Quæ ab illo repudiata duci Ulf sine fratris consensu [cf. Saxo’s tale quoted in p. 746] est conjuncta.” The name Margaret given by Adam to the Danish princess is remarkable. Estrith might possibly, like Emma and Eadgyth the daughter of Malcolm, have been required to take a Norman name on her marriage. But the name of Margaret, which became popular only through Eadgyth’s mother, is rare throughout the century, and this would perhaps be the first instance of it in the West.
As for the date of the marriage, see Lappenberg, ii. 217, and Pertz’s note to Adam, ii. 52. A dispute between Robert and Cnut which could be connected, even mythically, with Cnut’s death and Robert’s pilgrimage must be placed quite late in their reigns. And as the offender is always looked on as the reigning Duke, 1028, or (if we take the reckoning of Florence under 1026 and the Peterborough Chronicle under 1024) 1026, is the earliest year to which the transaction can be referred. Ulf was killed in 1025. William the Bastard was born in 1027 or 1028. As for Estrith’s dowry, Saxo tells us that Cnut, before her marriage with Ulf, “sororem Sialandiæ redditam regiarum partium functione donavit” (p. 194). After Ulf’s death, execution, or murder, “Canutus violatæ necessitudinis injuriam, ac sororis viduitatem, duarum provinciarum attributione pensavit” (p. 197). He adds that she gave them to the Church of Roskild. The Roskild Annals (Lang. i. 377) makes her rebuild the church with stone, it having before been of wood; “Honorifice sepelivit, ecclesiamque lapideam in loco ligneæ construxit, quam multis modis ditavit.”
I need hardly say that Cnut’s expedition to Normandy is quite mythical. We have already seen (see above, p. 768) a legendary account of a campaign of Cnut in Gaul, including a visit to Rouen, which seems to have grown out of his Roman pilgrimage. The present legend seems further to mingle up with this the pilgrimage of Robert to Jerusalem and the beginning of the Norman exploits in Sicily and Apulia. Saxo, so far as anything can be made out of his chronology, seems to make two Norman expeditions on the part of Cnut. The first (p. 194) seems to be early in his reign; “Rikardum, acerrimum uxoris osorem effectum, patria exegit.” Afterwards (pp. 200, 201) we have the story of his great expedition and death before Rouen. Richard is still Duke, but, for fear of Cnut, he flees to Sicily; “Cujus [Canuti] impetum Richardus Siciliam petens, fuga præcurrere maturavit.” The mention of Sicily is of course suggested by the exploits of the Normans in those regions. Adam, as we have seen, makes Richard flee to Jerusalem. His scholiast adds that the conquest of Apulia was begun by forty of his comrades on their return. The source of confusion is obvious.
This wild story of Cnut’s death before Rouen seems peculiar to Saxo. Several of the other Danish writers distinctly assert his death in England. Chron. Esrom. ap. Langebek, i. 236 (which makes him die in 1037); Chron. Rosk. i. 377. The attempt of Robert against England is described by William of Jumièges (vi. 10, 11) and Wace (Roman de Rou, 7897 et seqq.). I have followed their account in the text. Only two English writers mention it, William of Malmesbury (ii. 180) and John of Wallingford (Gale, 549–550). William mentions only the intended invasion, and says nothing of the embassies before and after it. John of Wallingford tells the story much as William of Jumièges does, only, with the usual confusion, he talks of Richard instead of Robert. But it is plain from the two Williams that Robert was the Duke concerned, so that John of Wallingford is clearly wrong when he places the story in the first years of Cnut—“in primordiis regni sui.”
William of Jumièges (vi. 10) thus describes the message sent by Robert to Cnut; “Mandavit Chunuto regi ut jamjamque satiatus eorum [the Æthelings] exterminio illis parceret, et sua eis vel sero pro sui amoris obtentu redderet.” So John of Wallingford; “Venerunt legati a Normannia ... qui cum Cnutone de regni jure disceptantes juvenibus prædictis regnum postulabant.”
William of Jumièges, it should be mentioned, distinctly implies the personal presence of Robert on board the fleet, but says nothing of that of the Ætheling. Wace (7941) speaks of both Robert and Eadward.
That Cnut, like Charles, established a system of under-kingdoms, to be held by his sons in subordination to his own Imperial authority, is distinctly asserted by Saxo (196). “Inde [from Rome, see p. 768] reversus, Haraldum natu majorem Angliæ, Daniæ Canutum, Norvagiæ Suenonem, quem ex Alvina sustulerat, absque ulla majestatis suæ diminutione præfecit. Nam etsi tres provincias totidem filiorum regimini tradidit, nihilominus commune sibi trium imperium reservavit, neque summam penes alium consistere voluit. Præterea teneris adhuc ducibus in officiorum tutelam fortissimorum præsidia sociavit.” The Knytlinga Saga (c. 17; Johnstone, 144) gives a similar account, only instead of England, it makes Harold Under-king over part of Scotland (see above, p. 761); “Knutr konungr hafdi oc til forrada mikinn hlut af Skotlandi, oc setti hann þar Haralld son sinn konung ysir: enn þo var Knutr konungr ysir-konungr [overkonge] allra þeirra.” Now this statement that Cnut established his sons as Under-kings under the guardianship of some of his chief men falls in exactly with the statement in our own Chronicles that Thurkill was established in Denmark as guardian to one of Cnut’s sons (see p. 429). The words of the passage (1023) are, “And he betæhte Þurcille Denemearcan and his sunu to healdenne;” but the details of this arrangement, as described both in Saxo and in the saga, seem open to much doubt. There is not a shadow of evidence that Harold ever reigned as Under-king in England, and the statement that he reigned in Scotland, though very remarkable, is hardly to be accepted without better authority than that of the Knytlinga Saga. The further question arises, who was the son whom Cnut left in Denmark? Not Harthacnut, who succeeded him there, for that kingly bairn was with his mother in England (see Chron. Wig. in anno). It must have been one of the two doubtful sons, Swegen and Harold, whom it may have been convenient to remove from England, together with their mother, “the other Ælfgifu.” She and Swegen, it is well known, were afterwards quartered in Norway, and this looks as if Harold were now, in the like sort, quartered in Denmark. This would prove a change of purpose on Cnut’s part as to the succession of his children, as it was Harthacnut who actually succeeded him in Denmark.
On Swegen’s reign in Norway under the guardianship of his mother, see Saxo, 196; Snorro, c. 252; Laing, ii. 344. I suspect that Saxo conceived the three sons as having been Under-kings in the several kingdoms to which they actually succeeded; but if it be true, as seems likely, that Harold was first quartered as Under-king in Denmark and afterwards displaced to make way for Harthacnut, the fact becomes of importance with reference to the disputed election which followed his death.
As to the division on Cnut’s death there seems no doubt at all. The account given by Adam (ii. 72) runs thus; “Post cujus mortem, ut ipse disposuit, succedunt in regnum filii ejus, Haroldus in Angliam, Svein in Nortmanniam, Hardechnut autem in Daniam.... Suein et Harold a concubina geniti erant; qui, ut mos est barbaris, æquam tunc inter liberos Chnut sortiti sunt partem hæreditatis.” This is copied by the Esrom Chronicle, Lang. i. 237; cf. Chron. Rosk. p. 377; Chron. Erici, p. 159. As Harold actually succeeded in England, foreign writers seem to have taken for granted that his succession was in accordance with Cnut’s will; but it is evident that Cnut latterly intended England for Harthacnut.
On the expulsion of Swegen and Ælfgifu from Norway, see Snorro, Saga of Magnus, c. 4; Laing, ii. 363.
I have gathered my account of this disputed election wholly from our own Chronicles, which are the only trustworthy guides. The cause of all the difficulties and contradictions with which the subject is involved, is the fact that the division of the kingdom between Harold and Harthacnut proved a mere ephemeral arrangement, and was set aside within two years. It seems therefore to have quite passed out of mind, except with the very few writers with whom minute accuracy was really an object. No one would find out the fact from Adam of Bremen, from the Encomiast, or even from William of Malmesbury. Of the Danish writers it is needless to speak. The Encomiast (iii. 1 et seqq.) sees, so does William of Malmesbury (ii. 188) still more plainly, that a strong opposition was made to the election of Harold; they do not see that that opposition was so far successful that a temporary sovereignty over a part of the kingdom was secured to Harthacnut. Even Florence, seemingly hesitating, as he sometimes does, between two versions of a story, tells the tale with some confusion. But on comparing the Abingdon, Worcester, and Peterborough Chronicles, the matter becomes much clearer. The Peterborough Chronicle is the primary authority for the division of parties in the Witenagemót, for the division of the kingdom between the two competitors, for the regency of Emma and Godwine on behalf of Harthacnut. Its statements are copied, with more or less of confusion and misconception, by the Canterbury Chronicle, Florence, and William of Malmesbury. The Abingdon and Worcester Chronicles do not distinctly mention the division of the kingdom under the year 1035; but they imply it under 1037, in the words, “Hér man geceas Harald ofer eall to cinge, and forsoc Harðacnut,” which, unless Harthacnut had before possessed part of the kingdom, would be meaningless. Oddly enough, the Peterborough Chronicler does not distinctly mention this second election of Harold, though he perhaps alludes to it in the words, “And he [Harold] wæs þæh full cyng ofer eall Englaland.” Thus the two accounts in the Chronicles fill up gaps in each other, and between the two we get a full and consistent narrative.
I believe the controversy to have lain wholly between the two sons of Cnut, Harold and Harthacnut. That there was a party in favour of one of the sons of Æthelred (see p. 476) is asserted by William of Malmesbury (ii. 188); “Angli diu obstiterunt, magis unum ex filiis Ethelredi, qui in Normannia morabantur, vel Hardecnutum filium Cnutonis ex Emma, qui tunc in Danemarchia erat, regem habere volentes.” But in the Chronicles, where the proceedings in the Witenagemót are described, we hear nothing of any voices being raised on the side of the Æthelings, and William himself says (u. s.) of a time a little later; “Filii Ethelredi jam fere omnibus despectui erant, magis propter paternæ socordiæ memoriam, quam propter Danorum potentiam.” These last words are at least a witness to the freedom of election on this occasion.
The geographical division of parties is clearly marked in the Peterborough Chronicle, which is also the only one which notices the share taken by London in the election. We now hear only of the “liðsmen,” not, as in the election of 1016, of the “burhwaru.” The proposal for a division I understand to come from Harold’s supporters, most likely from Leofric, the natural mediator between the two extreme parties. I do not see what else can be the meaning of the expression in the Peterborough Chronicle that Leofric and others chose Harold and Harthacnut (“Leofric eorl and mæst ealle þa þegenas be norðan Temese and þa liðsmen on Lunden gecuron Harold to healdes Englelandes; him and his broðer Hardacnute, þe wæs on Denemearcon”). This proposal—namely the division—Godwine and the West-Saxons resist (“and Godwine eorl and ealle þa yldestan menn on West-Seaxon lagon ongean, swa hi lengost mihton; ac hi ne mihton nan þing ongean wealcan”); that is, they claim the whole kingdom for Harthacnut. At last they are obliged to consent to the division and the regency (“and man gerædde þa þæt Ælfgifu Hardacnutes modor sæte on Winceastre mid þæs cynges huscarlum hyra suna, and heoldan ealle West-Seaxan him to handa; and Godwine eorl was heora healdest man”). Henry of Huntingdon (M. H. B. 758 B) translates this account, but he was evidently puzzled by the words about electing Harold and Harthacnut, as he says, “elegerunt Haraldum, ut conservaret regnum fratri suo Hardecnut”—a most unlikely story. The last clause he translates; “Consilium ergo inierunt quod Emma regina cum regis defuncti familia [huscarlum?] conservaret Westsexe apud Wincestre in opus filii sui, Godwinus vero consul dux eis esset in re militari.” Henry says nothing of the second election of Harold in 1037. William of Malmesbury (ii. 188), though telling the story in a most confused way, seems quite to take in the position of Godwine; “Maximus tum justitiæ propugnator fuit Godwinus comes, qui etiam pupillorum [his notion about the sons of Æthelred, as well as Harthacnut, here comes in] se tutorem professus, reginam Emmam et regias gazas custodiens, resistentes umbone nominis sui aliquamdiu dispulit; sed tandem, vi et numero impar, cessit violentiæ.” Mr. St. John (Four Conquests, ii. 106, 107) makes Godwine first assert the rights of the Æthelings, which I suppose is his interpretation of the words of William, and then himself propose the compromise in favour of Harthacnut. For this he refers us to Simeon; but Simeon (X Scriptt. 179) only copies the narrative of Florence, and that narrative, as well as that of the “Saxon Chronicle” [Abingdon as opposed to Peterborough?], Mr. St. John had just before cast aside as “confusing the whole subject.”
I see that the idea of the Imperial supremacy being reserved to Harold has also occurred to Mr. St. John (ii. 110). It was suggested to me by the words of the Peterborough Chronicle (evidently misunderstood by the Canterbury Chronicler), “And he [Harold] wæs þæh full cyng ofer eall Englaland.” This however, as I remarked just above, may perhaps refer to Harold’s second election in 1037. The same idea might also lurk in the other words of the Peterborough Chronicler, quoted in the last page, “gecuron Harold to healdes ealles Englelandes; him and his broðer Hardacnute,” &c. But an Imperial supremacy on the part of Harold seems quite consistent with the general tenor of events, and such a supposition may perhaps render the account of the fate of the Ætheling Ælfred one degree less obscure.
The story of Æthelnoth’s refusal to crown Harold comes wholly from the Encomium Emmæ, iii. 1. But it is possible that the tale, if true, may belong to the second election of Harold in 1037, and may have been thrust back in the confused chronology of the Encomiast. A coronation, sooner or later, seems quite certain. It is asserted by Ralph de Diceto, ii. 238, ed. Stubbs; “Haroldus filius Cnutonis regnavit annis iii. consecratus ab Ethelnodo Dorobernensi archiepiscopo apud Lundonias.” So Roger of Wendover (i. 473); “Prævaluit pars Haroldi, et regni Angliæ illum diademate insignivit.” According to Bromton (X Scriptt. 932), Harold was “ab Ethelnodo Dorobernensi archiepiscopo apud Lundonias consecratus.” But the higher authority of the list of coronations in Rishanger (427) places it at Oxford, which seems to have been Harold’s capital. Believers in the false Ingulf may also entertain themselves with a story about Harold’s coronation robe, and a great deal more about which authentic history is silent. See St. John, ii. 107–110.
I have stated in the text the chief versions as to the death of Ælfred. The different statements may be grouped under two main heads, those which put the event at its right date under the reign of Harold, and those which move it to some other time. It is the former class whose statements we must weigh against other; the latter are useful mainly as illustrating particular points, and as examples of the way in which legends grow.
The earliest English account is that which is found, in different shapes, in the Abingdon and Worcester Chronicles. Peterborough is silent about the whole matter. The story, except a few lines at the beginning, takes the form of a ballad, as it appears in Mr. Earle’s Parallel Chronicles. It is astonishing that Mr. Thorpe should have printed it as plain prose, when it plainly is, not only, like the songs of Brunanburh and Maldon, in rhythm, but actually in rime. This was seen long ago by Dr. Ingram, who not only printed it as verse, but attempted a riming version of his own in modern English. I have in the text analysed the account thus given. The remarkable point is that the Abingdon Chronicle distinctly accuses Godwine, while the Worcester version leaves out his name. In the prose introduction, Ælfred the innocent (“unsceððiga”) Ætheling lands and wishes to go to his mother, who sat at Winchester. Then says Abingdon, “Ac hit him ne geþafode Godwine eorl ne éc oþre men þe mycel mihton wealdan: forþan hit hleoðrode þa, swiðe toward Haraldes, þeh hit unriht wære.” But in Worcester it stands, “Ac þæt ne geþafodon þa þe micel weoldon on þisan lande; forþan hit hleoþrade þa swiðe to Harolde, þeah hit unriht wære.” So the beginning of the ballad stands in Abingdon,
while in the Worcester version it runs,
There can be no doubt that here the Abingdon version is the original, and that the Worcester text, which destroys rhythm and rime, was altered by an admirer of Godwine. But as to the prose introduction the case is far less clear; the words “Godwine eorl ne éc oþre men” might just as well be an interpolation. So in Florence the mention of Godwine comes in very awkwardly; “Quod indigne graviterque ferebant potentes nonnulli, quia, licet injustum esset, Haroldo multo devotiores exstitere quam illis, maxime, ut fertur, comes Godwinus.”
Florence’s version is made up by modifying the account in the Chronicles, with some touches from other quarters. He makes both brothers come, changing the words “Ælfred se unsceððiga æþeling” into “innocentes clitones Ælfredus et Eadwardus.” While in the Chronicles Ælfred simply wishes to go to his mother (“wolde to his moder þe on Wincestre sæt”), and is hindered by certain men, Godwine or others, in this account both the Æthelings actually visit their mother (“ad suæ matris colloquium, quæ morabatur Wintoniæ, venere”), and Godwine and the other powerful men are simply displeased at their coming (“indigne graviterque ferebant,” as above). Then comes the strangest part of his statement; that Godwine seized and imprisoned Ælfred is simply translated from the ballad, but Florence now introduces the almost incomprehensible assertion that Ælfred, when he was seized, was going to London for a conference with Harold; “Hic quidem [Godwinus] Ælfredum, quum versus Lundoniam, ad regis Haroldi colloquium, ut mandarat, properaret, retinuit, et arcta in custodia posuit [‘hine þa gelette and hine on hæft sette’].” The companions of Ælfred, to the number of six hundred, are sold, killed, or tortured at Guildford; the place is not mentioned in the Chronicles. Emma then sends back her son Eadward, who had stayed with her (“qui secum remansit”) and had not set out with his brother, with all haste to Normandy. Then, at the bidding of Godwine and certain others (“Godwini et quorumdam aliorum jussione”), Ælfred is taken to Ely, and the rest of the story follows as in the ballad.
It is plain that Florence in writing this had one or both of the Chronicles before him, and tried to work in details from other sources which were really inconsistent with the account which the Chronicles gave. One change is of special importance. The ballad simply mentions the companions (“geferan”) of Ælfred without any account of their number or who they were. Florence makes them six hundred, and adds the very important statement that they were Norman knights or soldiers. The Æthelings come, “multis Normannicis militibus secum assumptis, in Angliam paucis transvecti navibus.” This touch clearly comes from the Norman version, which represents the first attempt of the Æthelings as an actual invasion, an idea which the Chronicles do not suggest. It is also plainly from the same source that he got the idea that Eadward had any share in the business.
The ballad in the two Chronicles has about it something of that vagueness which is natural in a poem which is rather a pious lamentation than a narrative. The Norman account, true or false, is at least fuller and clearer. It first appears in William of Poitiers, the Conqueror’s chaplain, the extant part of whose narrative begins at this point. He is followed by William of Jumièges (vii. 8, 9), who is followed by Wace (Roman de Rou, 9759 et seqq.). I have given the substance of their story in the text, and I do not know that there is anything to remark, except that at the end of his tale William of Poitiers turns round and reviles Godwine in an address in the second person, much as at a later stage of his narrative he reviles Harold.
We now come to the version of the Encomiast. He is a perplexing writer to deal with; one knows not what to make of an historian who was either so easily imposed upon or else so utterly reckless as to truth. A contemporary writer who wipes out Emma’s marriage with Æthelred, who looks on the Æthelings as sons of Cnut, who is ignorant that his heroine was actually Queen-regent over Wessex, is really somewhat of a curiosity. His astounding statement (ii. 18) that Eadward and Ælfred were the sons of Cnut I have already spoken of in Note BBB. In his present account (iii. 1) Emma remained in England after the death of Cnut, grieving for the death of her husband and the absence of her sons (“sollicita pro filiorum absentia”). He then goes on; “Namque unus eorum, Hardecnuto scilicet, quem pater regem Danorum constituit, suo morabatur in regno; duo vero alii in Normanniæ finibus ad nutriendum traditi, cum propinquo suo degebant Rotberto.” These last are the sons of whom one, Ælfred, the younger of the two (“Alfridus minor natu,” iii. 4), is the victim of the present story. It is plain therefore that the “liberales filii” of Cnut, spoken of in the former passage, are meant to be the same as the Æthelings. All three brothers being absent, “factum est,” he goes on to say, “ut quidam Anglorum, pietatem regis sui jam defuncti obliti, mallent regnum suum dedecorare quam ornare, relinquentes nobiles filios insignis reginæ Emmæ, et eligentes sibi in regem quemdam Haroldum,” &c., &c. (see above, p. 775). He then goes on with Æthelnoth’s refusal to crown Harold (see above, p. 487), and with Harold’s ungodly manner of life (see p. 504). Then comes the forged letter and the rest of the story, as I have told it in the text. The piece of detail most worthy of notice is the writer’s remarks (iii. 5) on the decimation of Ælfred’s companions (on the alleged decimation at Canterbury in 1012, see above, p. 674);
“Traditi sunt carnificibus, quibus etiam jussum ut nemini parcerent nisi quem sors decima offerret. Tunc tortores vinctos ordinatim sedere fecerunt, satis supraque eis insultantes, illius interfectoris Thebææ legionis exemplo usi sunt, qui decimavit primum innocentes multo his mitius. Ille enim rex paganissimus Christianorum novem pepercit, occiso decimo: at hi profanissimi falsissimique Christiani bonorum Christianorum novem perimerunt, decimo dimisso.”
Now when a writer, whether through ignorance or through design, goes so utterly wrong about the birth of his hero, about the position of his heroine and the general condition of the kingdom, one hardly knows how to accept anything that he tells us. Yet his account, if used with caution, seems to supply some useful hints. His account is the only one which, while consistent with Godwine’s innocence, explains the origin of the belief as to his guilt. If we accept his account of what happened between Godwine and Ælfred, the various statements become intelligible; we see how the opposite stories could arise, which in any other way it is hard to see. The tale of the forged letter has a very odd sound, and the details may easily be mythical. Yet something of the kind would fill up the gap in the Chronicles, in which Ælfred comes over to England without any particular reason for his coming, better than William of Poitiers’ wild tale of a Norman invasion, which is most likely a mere repetition of the attempt of Robert.
The Encomiast seems to have had no notion that Emma was at Winchester, but rather to have fancied that she was in London. Ælfred, before he has landed, is recognized by his enemies, who wish to seize him (“volebant eum adgredi,” iii. 4), but he escapes, lands elsewhere, and sets out to go to his mother (“matrem parabat adire”). When he has got near to her (“ubi jam erat proximus”), he is met by Godwine, who persuades him not to go to London, and takes him to Guildford (“devians eum a Londonia, induxit eum in villa Gildefordia nuncupata”). The mistake is remarkable, for to quarter Emma in London instead of at Winchester implies utter ignorance as to her real position. But it seems quite plain that the Encomiast did not mean to identify Godwine either with the “adversarii” of Ælfred whom he had mentioned just before, nor yet with the “complices Haroldi infandissimi tyranni” (iii. 5), who are spoken of afterwards. And he expressly shuts out the story of invasion and battle which appears in William of Poitiers. The companions of Ælfred are indeed called “commilitones” (iii. 4), but, when Baldwin offers him the help of an armed force, he declines it (“cum marchione Balduino moratus, et ab eo rogatus ut aliquam partem suæ militiæ secum duceret propter insidias hostium”). This seems to forbid the notion of a force such as the Norman writers speak of, a force which could dream of the conquest of England or even of Wessex.
The only other independent witness is the strong partizan of Godwine, the Biographer of Eadward (Vita Eadw. 401). He perhaps shows some wish to slur the story over; but his account of the time between the death of Cnut and the election of Eadward is throughout confused and meagre. He brings in the story of Ælfred only incidentally, not in its chronological place, but much later, when describing the attempts of the Norman Archbishop Robert to sow dissensions between King Eadward and the Earl. He merely says that Ælfred, incautiously entering the country with some French companions, was seized and put to death by torture by order of Harold, his comrades being killed, sold, and so forth. As Godwine was still, under Harold as under Cnut, the chief counsellor of the King (“eo quoque tempore, ut superius, regalium consiliorum erat bajalus.” See above, p. 733), the slanderer Robert took occasion to affirm that the deed was done by Godwine’s advice; but the Biographer strongly asserts the Earl’s innocence.
These are the earliest accounts of the business, all of them written by men who were alive at the time, and of whom the Encomiast of Emma personally knew Cnut, while the Biographer of Eadward personally knew Godwine. Their differences and contradictions are therefore the more amazing; and their one point of agreement is more amazing still, namely, that they all forget, as I said in the text, that Emma and Godwine were ruling in Wessex in the name, not of Harold, but of Harthacnut. The division of the kingdom, the regency of Emma and Godwine, are facts which cannot be doubted; they are affirmed by two of the Chronicles and they are implied by the other two (see above, p. 776). But in telling the tale of Ælfred all this is forgotten. Even the Biographer of Eadward, the formal apologist of Godwine, seems, in the very act of defending him, to forget his real position. The Encomiast, whose version is the most favourable to Godwine’s innocence, seems to know nothing of any King but Harold; Godwine, if not Harold’s minister, is at least Harold’s subject. On comparing all these writers, the question at once arises, How far, when their main story involves so great a misconception, can we trust any of their details? The inconsistency is manifest; it seems to have been felt at the time. The ballad which laments the fate of the Ætheling is found only in those Chronicles which do not directly mention the division of the kingdom. And, even of these, one inserts the ballad in a form which does not accuse Godwine. The Peterborough Chronicler, who is so clear as to the division of the kingdom, says nothing about the fate of the Ætheling. The Norman writers, so eloquent about the fate of the Ætheling, know nothing of the kingship of Harthacnut. Florence, who attempts to combine the two stories, falls into all kinds of confusions and inconsistencies. It was no doubt the feeling of this inconsistency, the feeling that the story, as told, could not have happened at the time to which it is fixed, which made later writers, from William of Malmesbury onwards, move it to various other dates. William’s own account (ii. 188) is very remarkable. He hardly believes the story, because it is not in the Chronicles, but he tells it, because it was a common report; “Quia fama serit, non omisi; sed quia chronica tacet, pro solido non asserui.” He therefore had the Peterborough Chronicle before him. So just before; “Sane ne silentio premam quod de primogenito [Ælfred was certainly the younger] Ethelredi Elfredo rumigeruli spargunt.” The tale is placed by him in 1040, after the death of Harold and before the arrival of Harthacnut. Sir Thomas Hardy, in his note, proposes to read “mortem Cnutonis” for “mortem Haroldi,” but this is rather destroying evidence than explaining it. Ælfred enters the kingdom; by the treachery of his countrymen, chiefly of Godwine (“compatriotarum perfidia et maxime Godwini”), he is blinded at Gillingham (probably a mistake for Guildford); thence he is taken to Ely, where he soon dies. His companions are beheaded, save one out of each ten, who are allowed to escape.
This date, if it rested on any authority, would be far more probable than the other. Henry of Huntingdon (M. H. B. 758 D) pushes on the story yet a reign further. It is now placed after the death of Harthacnut in 1042. On that King’s death the English send for Ælfred, the elder of the Æthelings, to succeed to the Crown. He comes, and brings with him a great number of his mother’s kinsfolk and of other Normans. Now Godwine (“quum esset consul fortissimus et proditor sævissimus”) has determined that the new King shall marry his daughter. But he sees that Ælfred’s high spirit (“quia primogenitus erat et magnæ probitatis”) will not consent to this scheme, while he thinks that the milder spirit of Eadward (“frater minor et simplicior”) will submit to the yoke. Godwine then harangues the Witan (“intimavit igitur proceribus Angliæ”); Ælfred has brought with him too many Normans; he has promised them lands in England; it will not be safe to allow so valiant and so crafty a people to take root in the land; the strangers must be punished lest other strangers should venture to presume on their kindred with Kings to meddle with Englishmen and English affairs (“ne alii post hæc audeant pro regis cognatione se Anglis ingerere”). Ælfred’s Norman companions are then decimated at Guildford, in the fashion above mentioned; but even the tenth part seem to the English too many to be allowed to live (“nimium visum est Anglis tot superesse”); so they are decimated again; the Ætheling is blinded and sent to Ely, as before. Ralph the Black (157) brings in his version incidentally. Under the reign of Harthacnut, he says, “Edwardum fratrem suum a Normannis revocans, secum pacifice aliquamdiu habuit. Nam alter frater, Alureclus scilicet, ad stipitem ligatus a Godwino in Hely peremptus est, ter decimatis commilitonibus apud Guldedune, port mortem Haroldi, antequam regnaret Hardecnutus, consilio Stigandi archiepiscopi.” This last strange statement may be taken in connexion with a scandal which charged Emma herself with a partnership in the deed. (See p. 498 and Note SSS.) There is no need to point out that Stigand was not Archbishop until long afterwards.
Bromton (X Scriptt. 934 et seqq.) gives several versions, but decides in favour of one grounded on that of Henry of Huntingdon. He adds several particulars, especially that the English nobles were so enraged against Godwine that they vowed that he should die a worse death than Eadric the betrayer of his cyne-hlaford (“dominum suum naturalem regem”) Eadmund. (It is a little remarkable that these words are used without any hint as to the supposed kindred between Godwine and Eadric.) On this Godwine flees to Denmark and remains there four years, his lands and goods being meanwhile confiscated. But Bromton’s most remarkable version is one in which the death of Ælfred, combined with an attempt to poison Eadward, is attributed to the joint action of Godwine, Harthacnut, and Emma herself. The same scandal turns up again in the Winchester Annals (Luard, Ann. Mon. ii. 22) as part of the legend of Emma and the ploughshares. So also in Bromton himself, X Scriptt. 942. But the Winchester Annalist had just before (Ann. Mon. ii. 17) given his own version. The tale is placed in the reign of Harthacnut. Godwine wishes to open the succession to his own son Harold. He entices Ælfred over—Duke Robert, notwithstanding his death and burial in the East, keeps Eadward back in Normandy—and causes one tenth of his companions to be beheaded, the rest to be tortured and crucified, and the Ætheling himself to be embowelled. Godwine’s instructions to his agents are given in two very graphic speeches. I trust that so pleasant a writer as Richard of the Devizes is not answerable for this stuff. See Mr. Luard’s Preface, p. xi.
Lastly, two charters ascribed to Eadward the Confessor, but of very doubtful genuineness, speak of the murder of Ælfred in a way which ought to be noticed. In the first (Cod. Dipl. iv. 173) Eadward is made to attribute the death of his brother to Harold and Harthacnut conjointly, and to speak of himself as being with difficulty rescued from them; “Invadentibus regnum Swegeno et Cnuto filio regis [ejus?], regibus Danorum, ac filiis ipsius Chnuti Haroldo et Hardechnuto, a quibus etiam alter meus frater Ælfredus crudeliter occisus est, solusque, sicut Joas occisionem Oðoliæ, sic ego illorum crudelitatem evasi.” In the other (Cod. Dipl. iv. 181) the crime is attributed to the Danes generally; “Dani qui ... fratrem meum alium Ælfredum miserabiliter interemptum enecaverant.” Now, even if these charters be spurious, they still have a certain value as witnessing to popular belief on the subject. Neither of them mentions Godwine; had they done so, Godwine’s sons could hardly have been represented as signing them. But the mention of the fact in charters signed by them might imply that the subject was not one which they at all sought to avoid. The second charter is perfectly vague; but the language of the former, attributing the deed to Harold and Harthacnut, is remarkable. That Harthacnut personally had no hand in it needs no proof; neither was Eadward at any time in the least danger at the hands of Harthacnut, who always acted towards him as an attached brother. Is the charge against Harthacnut meant to convey an indirect charge against the representative of Harthacnut, that is, against Emma herself?
I have thus fairly put together, as far as I can, the evidence on this most perplexing question. That Ælfred landed and was put to death by order of Harold there can be no reasonable doubt. But one can hardly say more, except that, of all the accounts of his coming, the least likely is that which connects it with a Norman invasion under the command of Eadward. The charge against Godwine implies a state of things which we know not to have existed; on the other hand it is strange that his one direct apologist should not have used so obvious an argument on his behalf. In my whole history I know no more remarkable instance of mistakes and contradictions on the part of writers who had every means of being well informed.
The Peterborough Chronicle (1040) distinctly says that Harold died at Oxford; “Her forðferde Harold cyng on Oxnaforda on XI. Kal. Apr. and he wæs bebyrged æt Westmynstre.” Worcester and Abingdon say merely “Her swealt Harold cyng,” without any mention of the place either of death or of burial. Canterbury has, “Her forðferde Harold cing, and he wearð bebyrged at Westmynstre.” Florence however says “obiit Lundoniæ.” That the place of his death was Oxford can hardly be doubted, when we remember the charter which I have quoted at pp. 505, 509. And the point is of some importance in relation to the burial of Westminster, which becomes still more remarkable in the case of a King who died so far off as Oxford.
As for the disinterment of Harold’s body by order of Harthacnut, two stories seem to have been afloat which Florence tried to put into one. His words are;
“Mox ut regnare cœpit injuriarum, quas vel sibi vel suæ genitrici suus antecessor fecerat rex Haroldus, qui frater suus putabatur, non immemor, Ælfricum Eboracensem archiepiscopum, Godwinum comitem, Stir majorem domus, Edricum dispensatorem, Thrond suum carnificem, et alios magnæ dignitatis viros, Lundoniam misit, et ipsius Haroldi corpus effodere, et in gronnam projicere jussit: quod quum projectum fuisset, id extrahere, et in flumen Thamense mandavit projicere. Brevi autem post tempore a quodam piscatore captum est, et ad Danos allatum sub festinatione, in cœmeterio quod habuerunt Lundoniæ sepultum est ab ipsis cum honore.”
Here we find a mention both of a fen and of the river Thames as places into which the body was successively thrown. If we look into other accounts, we shall find one story speaking of the fen, and another of the river. The Peterborough Chronicle is silent; the Abingdon and Worcester speak of the fen; “He let dragan up þone deadan Harold; and hine on fenn onsceotan.” William of Malmesbury (ii. 188) tells the story like the second part of the story in Florence, except that he adds that the body was beheaded, which Florence does not mention; also he does not choose to mention any of the performers in the disinterment except Ælfric. His account runs thus;
“Per Alfricum Eboracensem episcopum, et alios quos nominare piget, Haroldi cadavere defosso, caput truncari, et miserando mortalibus exemplo, in Tamesim projici jussit. Id a quodam piscatore exceptum sagena, in cœmeterio Danorum Londoniæ tumulatur.”
The special mention of Ælfric is remarkable. It may be that the presence of a prelate was needed to sanctify the insult to consecrated ground; still Ælfweard would have been the more natural performer in his own diocese. And William of Malmesbury elsewhere (De Gest. Pont. 250) distinctly asserts that the deed was done by the special advice of Ælfric; “Habetur [Ælfricus] in hoc detestabilis, quod Hardacnutus ejus consilio fratris sui Haroldi cadavere defosso caput truncari, et infami mortalibus exemplo in Tamensem projici jussit.”
The burying-place of the Danes seems to be first mentioned by William of Malmesbury. Ralph de Diceto (i. 186 ed. Stubbs) marks it as the same as the church of Saint Clement Danes; “Brevi autem post a quodam piscatore ad Danos allatum est, et in cœmeterio quod habuerunt Lundoniæ sepultum est apud sanctum Clementem.” He is followed by Bromton (933), who however only speaks of the church of Saint Clement without any special mention of Danes.
Florence’s list of the dignitaries employed in this matter is followed by most of the later writers. Roger of Wendover calls them “milites et carnifices.” On the relation of the great Earls to the officers of the King’s household, see above, p. 89. The mention of the “major domus” and the seemingly dignified position of “Thrond carnifex” (cf. Jeremiah lii. 12) should be specially noticed.
It is really worth while to transcribe the narrative of M. de Bonnechose (ii. 61); it is so amusingly coloured; “Le corps d’Harold, son frère, fut déterré par ses ordres, décapité, jeté dans un marais, puis dans la Tamise, et il exigea que le comte Godwin, principal ministre des volontés d’Harold, fût un des instruments de la vengeance exercée sur son cadavre et sur une population rebelle, Godwin cependant ne trouva pas, dans son empressement à obéir, une sûreté suffisante; la clameur publique s’élevait contre lui, et le désignait comme l’assassin d’Alfred, frère utérin du nouveau roi; l’archevêque d’Yorck se porta son accusateur devant Hardi-Canut.”
A point to be specially noticed in this trial is the form of words which Florence, the only primary authority who records any form, puts into the mouth of Godwine and his compurgators. They swear that it was not by Godwine’s will or counsel that the Ætheling Ælfred was blinded, and that, whatever Godwine did in the matter, he did at the bidding of his lord King Harold (“Non sui consilii nec suæ voluntatis fuisse quod frater ejus cæcatus fuisset, sed dominum suum regem Haroldum illum facere quod fecit jussisse”). This is clearly an abridged, and it is most likely an inaccurate, report of the oath really taken. It is clearly abridged, because, when Godwine by implication confessed to have done something, he could not fail to explain more at large what it was that he confessed himself to have done. But such a form of words is consistent with the view that Godwine met Ælfred, or even that he arrested Ælfred, within his own earldom, but that he had no hand in the barbarous cruelties which followed in a place out of his jurisdiction. But the mention of Harold as Godwine’s lord again steps in to throw doubt on the whole formula. The only character in which Harold could be called Godwine’s lord was that of superior lord of all Britain, in which character he was the lord rather of Harthacnut than of Godwine. Still, whatever doubts the formula may be open to, it has its worth. It points to the general likelihood that Godwine may have had a share in the events which led to the death of Ælfred, and yet not a guilty share.
William of Malmesbury (ii. 188), though he mentions the oath, does not give any form of words. Roger of Wendover (i. 478), seemingly following Florence, leaves out the clause in which Godwine says that he had acted by order of Harold; “Juravit quod neque ingenio suo nec voluntate frater ejus fuerat interemptus et oculis privatus.” This is remarkable, as Roger (i. 474) asserts the complicity of Godwine with Harold’s doings perhaps more strongly than any other writer. The clause appears again in the writer called Matthew of Westminster, p. 400.
I cannot resist giving some account of the grotesque legend into which the compurgation of Godwine has grown under the hands of the so-called Bromton (X Script. 937, 8). It is transferred to the reign of Eadward. Godwine, it will be remembered (see above, p. 786), is, at his accession, in Denmark. Meanwhile Eadward comes over to England, he is crowned, and reigns justly and mercifully. Godwine, hearing of his justice and mercy, ventures to hope that the latter princely virtue may be extended to himself, and supplicates that he may be allowed to come over and plead his cause. This he does in a “Parliament,” where the King with his Earls and Barons talk a large amount of Norman law. Earl Leofric at last cuts the knot; It is clear that Godwine is guilty; but then he is the best born man in the land after the King himself—therefore it may be presumed, neither the son of Wulfnoth the herdsman nor yet the kinsman of the upstart Ealdorman Eadric—so he and his sons, and I and eleven other nobles his kinsmen, will bring the King as much gold and silver as we each can carry, and the King shall forgive Earl Godwine and give him his lands back again. To this singular way of observing his coronation oath to do justice the saintly monarch makes no objection; Earl Godwine takes his lands, and King Eadward takes the broad pieces. Perhaps they were the very pieces over which he afterwards saw the devil dancing.
All that I can say of Siward (Sigeweard) is that he was most likely a Danish follower of Cnut. A Siward, seemingly the same, signs as “minister” in 1019 (Cod. Dipl. iv. 9) and 1032 (iv. 39). His name is also attached to a doubtful charter of Archbishop Æthelnoth (iv. 53) as “miles.”
The mythical history of Siward will be found in Langebek, iii. 288, also in the Chroniques Anglo-Normandes, ii. 104. The pedigree there given runs thus; “Tradunt relationes antiquorum quod vir quidam nobilis, quem Dominus permisit, contra solitum ordinem humanæ propaginis, ex quodam albo urso patre, muliere generosa matre, procreari, Ursus genuit Spratlingum, Spratlingus Ulsium, Ulsius Beorn, cognomento Beresune, hoc est filius ursi.” Beorn is Siward’s father. Ulsius should of course be Ulfius, and the pedigree of course comes from Florence (see p. 423) or from the source from which Florence drew his pedigree of Ulf. But there is something especially grotesque in making Siward a son of Biorn Ulfsson, who was killed by Swegen the son of Godwine in 1049. The bear who was the ancestor of Siward and Ulf had also, it would seem, known ursine descendants; at least so I understand the legend of Hereward, Chroniques Angl.-Norm. ii. 7. Hereward there kills a bear, “quem incliti ursi Norweye fuisse filium ... affirmabant ... cujus igitur pater in silvis fertur puellam rapuisse, et ex ea Biernum regem Norweye genuisse.” Siward, in the story, after slaying dragons and other such exploits in Orkney and Northumberland, comes to London in the reign of Eadward; he then, under very odd circumstances, kills one Tostig, Earl of Huntingdon, and gets his earldom. The church of Saint Clement Danes (see above, p. 789) was built, we are told, to commemorate the slain followers of Tostig. This Tostig, it seems, was a Dane, who was in disfavour with King Eadward for a curious reason; “Rex eumdem habuit odio, quia duxerat in uxorem filiam comitis Godwini, sororem reginæ.” Afterwards, when an invasion from Norway was threatening (1045?), Siward was made Earl over Northumberland, Cumberland, and Westmoreland. The same story is found in Bromton, 945, only there “Bernus,” father of Siward, is himself son of the bear. Such stuff would be hardly worth mentioning, had not Sir Francis Palgrave (Engl. Comm. ii. ccxcvii.) inferred from it the existence of an historical Tostig, Earl of Huntingdon. See above, p. 667. It is, I think, plain that the Tostig of this story (who is, not indeed brother, but brother-in-law of Eadward’s wife Eadgyth) is meant for the son of Godwine, and that the slaying of Eadwulf by Siward has got confounded with the career of Tostig in Northumberland and his expulsion from the earldom. The one bit of history which lurks in all this seems to be the fact of the union of the earldoms of Northumberland and Huntingdon in the person of Siward. See vol. ii. Note G.