Florence gives no character of Godwine; of Harold—“strenuus Dux Haroldus”—he always speaks with evident affection, but his formal panegyric, and a magnificent one it is, he keeps back till Harold’s election to the Crown.
The Biographer’s description of Godwine I have had occasion to refer to at vol. i. 450. Of Harold he gives a most elaborate portrait, of which I have made great use in the text. I spare the reader this writer’s poetical panegyrics, except when they illustrate some special point: but I will quote one or two passages which compare the father and the son in a general sort of way. Godwine, he tells us, on his appointment as Earl of the West-Saxons (see vol. i. p. 469),
“Adeptus tanti honoris primatum non se extulit, sed omnibus bonis se pro posse patrem præbuit: quia quam à puero addidicerat mentis mansuetudinem non exuit; verùm hanc, ut naturaliter sibi indita, erga subditos et inter pares æternâ assiduitate excoluit. Undecumque emergerent injuriæ, in hoc jus et lex imprompta recuperabatur. Unde non pro domino habebatur, sed à cunctis patriæ filiis pro patre colebatur. Nati sunt ergo filii et filiæ tanto patri non degeneres, sed paternâ et maternâ probitate insignes, in quibus nutriendis studiosiùs his artibus agitur, quibus futuro regno munimen pariter et juvamen in his paratur.” (392, 393.)
So, in p. 408, on describing the death of Godwine and the accession of Harold to his Earldom, he says;
“Haroldus ... amicus gentis suæ et patriæ vices celebrat patris intentiùs, et ejusdem gressibus incedit, patientiâ scilicet et misericordiâ, et affabilitate cum benè volentibus. Porrò inquietatis, furibus, sive prædonibus, leonino terrore et vultu minabatur gladiator justus.”
The Waltham winters are of course Harold’s sworn panegyrists; their testimony must therefore be taken with caution, though certainly not with more caution than the testimony of Harold’s calumniators, the sworn panegyrists of William. I forbear to enlarge on the “Vita Haroldi,” where the hero of the piece figures as “vir venerabilis,” “vir Dei,” and so forth. These epithets of course refer far more to Harold’s imaginary penance and seclusion as a hermit than they do to his real merits as Earl and as King. I will quote this romantic writer only for one passage, in which he is plunged into difficulties by the calumnious accounts of Godwine and his family, which in his time were generally received. Godwine, according to him, began to practise deceit only as far as was needful for his own safety in troublous times; corrupted by this dangerous familiarity with crime, he gradually grew into actual treason. But admiration of Harold, combined with at least partial censure of Godwine, is not peculiar to this romancer. It is the position of the Abingdon Chronicler.
The account of Godwine given by Harold’s biographer runs thus;
“Constat ipsius [Haroldi] genitorem vel cæterorum quosdam de illius genere, tantum proditionis, tantum et aliorum notâ facinorum infamatos gravitèr fuisse. His vero malis, necessitate cavendi imminentis exitii, Godwinus se primò immiscuit, deinde ulteriùs evagatur. Tuendæ siquidem salutis obtentu dolum tentare compulsus, dum semel cedit ad votum, fraudibus in posterum minuendæ felicitatis intuitu licentiùs nitebatur.” (Chroniques Anglo-Normandes, ii. 152.)
He then tells the story, which I have mentioned in vol. i. p. 467, about the way in which Godwine obtained Gytha in marriage. He then goes on;
“Quo tamen eventu Godwinus in Dacorum plusquam satis favorem effusus, gentis suæ quampluribus fiebat infestus; nonnullos quoque de semine regio, quorum unus frater sancti Edwardi fuit, dolo perdidit; sicque non modò in concives, immo et in dominos naturales [cyne-hlafordas] non pauca deliquit” (154).
He then winds up by rebuking those who turned the crimes of Godwine to the discredit of Harold. Harold here, not Eadgyth, is the rose sprung from the thorn; “Sic rutilos producit, sic niveos quasi nutrit rosarum liliorumque spina flores” (155).
This writer’s notion of Godwine favouring the Danes against the English is found also in the Roman de Rou (9809). He is telling the story of Ælfred (see vol. i. p. 544);
To return to the Waltham writers, the witness of the writer “De Inventione” is worth infinitely more than that of Harold’s biographer. The affectionate tribute which he pays to Harold is clearly something more than mere conventional panegyric on a founder. Harold was chosen King, “quia non erat eo prudentior in terrâ, armis strenuus magis, legum terræ sagacior, in omni genere probitatis cultior” (p. 25 Stubbs). At his death (27) the lament is, “Cadit Rex ab hoste fero, gloria regni, decus cleri, fortitudo militiæ, inermium clipeus, certantium firmitas, tutamen debilium, consolatio desolatorum, indigentium reparator, procerum gemma.”
Such were the great father and son as they seemed in the eyes of Englishmen of their own times and in the eyes of those who in after times cherished purely English traditions. Let us see how they appeared to the Norman writers of their own day, and to those who follow that Norman tradition which permanently triumphed. It would be easy to prolong the list indefinitely, but I think it needless to refer to any but writers of the eleventh and twelfth centuries. On the whole, they are more fierce against Godwine than against Harold. They allow Godwine hardly any excellence beyond mere power of speech, while several of them are quite ready to do justice to Harold’s great qualities in other respects, even while they condemn his supposed perjury and usurpation. The first however, and, in some respects, the most important, William of Poitiers, the immediate follower and laureate of the Conqueror, has not the slightest mercy for either father or son. He stops twice in the course of his history to apostrophize, first Godwine (p. 79 Giles) and then Harold (p. 111), in terms of virulent abuse, the declamation in the latter case being brought in with the formula, “Paucis igitur de affabimur, Heralde.” But these addresses contain nothing but the old stories about the death of Ælfred and the oath to William. Elsewhere (126) the Lexovian Archdeacon gives his general character of Harold, describing him as “luxuriâ fœdum, truculentum homicidam, divite rapinâ superbum, adversarium æqui et boni.” “Truculentus homicida,” as appears from the context, means “victor at Stamfordbridge;” “luxuriâ fœdus” may possibly mean “lover of Eadgyth Swanneshals.”
William of Jumièges writes of Godwine in the same strain as William of Poitiers. Harold is of course usurper, perjurer, and so forth, but there is no such set abuse of him as we find in the Gesta Guillelmi. Of Godwine he writes (vii. 9);
“Ferox dolique commentor Godvinus eo tempore Comes in Angliâ potentissimus erat, et magnam regni Anglorum partem fortiter tenebat, quam ex parentum nobilitate [a contrast to the description in Wace] seu vi vel fraudulentiâ vendicaverat. Edwardus itaque metuens tanti viri potentiâ lædi dolove solito, Normannorum consultu, quorum fido vigebat solatio, indignam Aluredi fratris sui perniciem ei benignitèr indulsit.”
Other writers on the same side are more generous, at any rate towards Harold. Orderic, as usual, fluctuates between his two characters of born Englishman and Norman monk. In his Norman monastery he had been taught that Harold was a wicked usurper, and he speaks of him accordingly. But natural admiration for an illustrious countryman makes him, once at least, burst his trammels, and he ventures to say (492 B); “Erat idem Anglus magnitudine et elegantiâ, viribusque corporis animique audaciâ, et linguæ facundiâ, multisque facetiisque et probitatibus admirabilis.” One can almost forgive him when he adds, “Sed quid ei tanta dona sine fide, quæ bonorum omnium fundamentum est, contulerunt?”
In the like spirit Benoît de Sainte-More, though denouncing Harold (Chroniques Anglo-Normandes, i. 174) as “Parjur, faus, pleins de coveitise,” yet elsewhere (i. 193) gives him this generous tribute;
The series of English writers under Norman influence may be said to begin with Henry of Huntingdon. It is strange that one who has preserved so much of old English tradition should be so absolutely without English feeling in the great controversy of all. We have already (vol. i. p. 543) seen some specimens of his way of dealing with Godwine. As for Harold, he tells the legend of his quarrel with Tostig, of which I shall speak elsewhere, and goes on (M. H. B. 761 B); “Tantæ namque sævitiæ fratres illi erant, quod quum alicujus nitidam villam conspicerent, dominatorem de nocte interfici juberent totamque progeniem illius, possessionemque defuncti obtinerent; et isti quidem justitiarii erant regni.” This is somewhat expanded by Roger of Wendover—to quote an author rather later than the limit which I had laid down. All the sons of Godwine, Wulfnoth perhaps included, were partakers in these evil deeds (“Tantæ namque iniquitatis omnes filii Godwini proditoris erant.” i. 508), and Henry’s last clause is expanded into, “qui tamen, super tot flagitia, Regis simplicitatem ita circumvenerunt, quod ipsos regni justitiarios constituerit et rectores.” What was the exact notion of “justitiarii” in the minds of Henry and Roger?
Eadward’s own special panegyrist, Æthelred of Rievaux, is hardly so bitter against Harold as might have been looked for. Of course he speaks of his accession in the usual fashion, and he tells the legend of his enmity with Tostig. Of Godwine he gives (X Scriptt. 377) the following picture, which is at least valuable as witnessing to the still abiding memory of Godwine’s power of speech;
“Erat inter potentes Angliæ omnium potentissimus Comes Godwinus, vir magnarum opum sed astutiæ singularis, Regum regnique proditor, qui, doctus fallere et quælibet dissimulare consuetus, facilè populum ad cujuslibet factionis inclinabat assensum.”
I will now turn to two or three writers who are neither English nor Norman. The biographer of Olaf Tryggwesson seems to stand alone in wishing to make a saint of Harold (“Haraldur Gudina son, er sumir kalla helgan vera.” p. 263). This is remarkable, for, though he mentions, as we shall hereafter see, the tale that Harold was not killed on the field at Senlac, he seems to know nothing of his penitence and hermit life. But other Scandinavian and German writers seem quite to take the Norman view of things. Thus Adam of Bremen (iii. 13) says of the sons of Godwine, “Tenuerunt Angliam in ditione suâ, Eduardo tantùm vitâ et inani Regis nomine contento.” So also his Scholiast, “Harold ... ipsum cognatum et dominum suum, Regem Eduardum pro nihilo habuit.” Elsewhere (iii. 51) he calls Harold “vir maleficus.” Saxo, of whose ideas I have already given some specimens (see vol. i. p. 592), is more violent against Harold than any one else. Having told his wonderful tale about the slaughter of the Danes after the death of Harthacnut, he goes on (p. 203);
“Igitur Haraldus, Danicæ oppressionis simulque domesticæ libertatis auctor, Edvardo summam, factâ non animi ejus sed sanguinis æstimatione, permittit, quatenus ille nominis, ipse rerum usurpatione regnaret, et quo nobilitate pervenire non posset, potentiâ vallatus assurgeret. Edvardus vero, solâ generis auctoritate non prudentiæ ratione munitus, vano majestatis obtentu pravorum ingenia majorumque petulantiam nutriebat, titulo Rex patriæ, conditione miserabilis procerum verna, contentus quod alii fructum, ipse umbram tantùm ac speciem occupâsset. Ità Anglorum inter se summam nomen atque potentiam diviserunt, titulique jus ac rerum dominium veluti diversis ab invicem gradibus differebant.” He then goes on with his wild tale, which I have had occasion to mention already (see p. 413), about Harold killing Eadward. Elsewhere (p. 207) he uses the words “Haraldus, cui scelera Mali cognomen adjecerant,” in which it is not very clear whether he means our Harold or Harold Hardrada.
Snorro gives no portrait of Harold, and his genealogy, as we shall see, is utterly confused. But he gives a picture of Harold’s relations to Eadward which is at least widely different from that of Saxo. He makes him the King’s favourite and foster son (“Hann fæddiz upp í hird, Játvardar Konungs, oc var hans fóstr son, oc unni Konungr honöm geysi mikit, oc hafdi hann fyrir son ser; þvíat Konúngrinn átti eigi barn.” Johnstone, 189. Laing, iii. 75).
I leave it to the reader to judge which description, either of father or son, is better borne out by the facts of the history. I will only add that, in this case also, calumny, as usual, preserves a certain propriety. Godwine was a crafty, and not always scrupulous, statesman; Harold was a hero. The calumnies levelled at each are such as would naturally be levelled at a crafty statesman and a hero respectively.
The charge of sacrilege, of spoliation of churches and monasteries, is one which Godwine and Harold share with almost every powerful man of those times. William of Malmesbury speaks of it as a characteristic of the reign of Eadward; only he adds that the King’s panegyrists attributed this, along with the other evils of the time, to Godwine and his sons. According to them, it was for these crimes of one sort or another that Eadward banished the whole family. The whole passage (ii. 196) is curious;
“Fuerunt tamen nonnulla quæ gloriam temporum deturpârunt; monasteria tunc monachis viduata; prava judicia à perversis hominibus commissa.... Sed harum rerum invidiam amatores ipsius ità extenuare conantur; monasteriorum destructio, perversitas judiciorum, non ejus scientiâ, sed per Godwini filiorumque ejus sunt commissa violentiam, qui Regis ridebant indulgentiam; postea tamen ad eum delata, acritèr illorum exsilio vindicata.”
This is of course Norman talk, and we know very well what to think of the “perversitas judiciorum.” But for the charge of destruction of monasteries there is undoubtedly a groundwork of fact, and it will be worth while to go through the evidence on which Godwine and his sons are charged with this and other acts of sacrilege. On this evidence I have two general comments to make.
First, In estimating charges of this sort we must remember that we commonly hear one side only. The works of Ealdorman Æthelweard and Count Fulk form so small a portion of our authorities that we may say that the whole history of these times was written exclusively by churchmen. And those churchmen were far more commonly monks than seculars. The monks of course tell the story their own way, and we do not often get the layman’s answer. A legal claim against a monastery or other ecclesiastical body runs a very fair chance of being represented as a fraudulent or violent occupation. And Domesday is hardly an impartial witness for a charge against Harold. If he acquired lands by as good a title as he acquired the Crown, the Norman writers would, if they had the least excuse, speak of their acquisition in the same way in which they speak of his acquisition of the Crown.
Secondly, It was a very common thing for the reeves or other officers of powerful men to deal very freely with both monastic and other lands that came in their way. This they sometimes did without the knowledge of their masters. Thus Heming, in the Worcester Cartulary (p. 391), reckons three classes of “maligni homines” who unjustly deprived the Church of Worcester of its possessions. First come the “Dani hanc patriam invadentes;” secondly, after them (“postea”), are the “injusti præpositi et regii exactores;” lastly, in his own day (“istis temporibus”) come the “violenti Normanni.” Sir Henry Ellis (ii. 142) has collected a number of instances of spoliation by underlings, of one of which, the story about Christ Church and Harold Harefoot, I have already spoken (see vol. i. p. 562). Some of these I shall have to mention again.
Now we shall come across distinct evidence that some of the charges against Godwine and Harold come under one or other of these heads. And in estimating other charges of the kind against Godwine, Harold, or anybody else, we should always bear in mind that we are hearing one side only, and that it is quite probable that an equally good defence might be forthcoming. The charge of sacrilege is brought against Godwine in the one English Chronicle which may be called in some degree hostile to him. The Abingdon Chronicle (1052) recording his death, adds, “Ac he dyde ealles to lytle dædbote of þære Godes are þe he hæfde of manegum halgum stowum.” But even this must be read with the same qualification.
The general picture of destruction of monasteries mentioned by William of Malmesbury sounds strange at a time when so many monasteries were being founded and endowed and their churches being rebuilt. I conceive that it rests mainly on two remarkable cases, those of the Abbeys of Berkeley and Leominster, which seem to have got confounded together in legendary history. I trust that I have shown elsewhere that Leominster Abbey was dissolved after the affair of Swegen and Eadgifu in 1046 (see above, p. 89). I conceive it to be a legendary version of this story when Walter Map (De Nugis Curialium, p. 201, ed. Wright) tells a tale of the destruction of Berkeley nunnery, how Godwine sets a handsome nephew to seduce the nuns, how he then complains to the King of their misconduct, how he procures the dissolution of the house and the grant of its possessions to himself. It is certain that there was a real suppression of a monastery at Berkeley, and that Godwine profited by it in some way or other. As in Domesday we find Leominster in the hands of the Lady Eadgyth, with only a most incidental mention of the nuns, so we find Berkeley (163) in the hands of the King, without any mention of monks or nuns, or of Godwine either. But that there had been a monastery at Berkeley appears from a variety of evidence. See Cod. Dipl. i. 276. ii. 111. Flor. Wig. 805, 915, in the former of which years we find an Abbess, Ceolburh by name, presiding over the house, while in the latter it was governed by an Abbot, Æthelhun. But, as Professor Stubbs has shown in the Archæological Journal, vol. xix. (1862), p. 248, the existence of an Abbess does not necessarily imply the presence of nuns, as many monasteries seem to have had either Abbots or Abbesses, as suited family convenience. There is also mention of nuns at Berkeley at a time later than Godwine, in a charter of Adeliza, Queen of Henry the First (Monasticon, iv. 42, and vi. 1618), and in the Pipe Roll of 31 Hen. I. (ed. Hunter, p. 133; “investitura iii. monialium, lx.s.” For this last reference I have to thank Professor Stubbs). By the Charter of Adeliza the Church of Berkeley, with the “Prebends of two nuns,” was granted to the new Abbey of Reading, by which the church was afterwards transferred to Saint Augustine’s at Bristol (Smyth’s Lives of the Berkeleys, p. 49). But the whole account of these later nuns of Berkeley is very obscure, and whatever they were, they must have been a revival of the old foundation later than the time of Godwine. For the destruction of the monastery at Berkeley, and Godwine’s share in it, are undoubted facts, though we are left without any explanation as to their causes. A most remarkable entry in Domesday (164) tells us that, when Godwine was at Berkeley, his wife Gytha refused to eat anything which came out of that lordship, because of a pious scruple arising out of the destruction of the Abbey. Godwine therefore bought of Azor, a man of whom we often hear, the lordship of Woodchester (a place near Stroud, noted for its Roman remains), for her maintenance when in Gloucestershire (“Gueda mater Heraldi Comitis tenuit Udecestre. Godwinus Comes emit ab Azor, et dedit suæ uxori, ut inde viveret, donec ad Berchelai maneret. Nolebat enim de ipso manerio aliquid comedere, propter destructionem Abbatiæ.” We have no further account, except the evidently mythical tale told by Walter Map. It is by no means clear whether there were or were not any nuns at Berkeley in Godwine’s time, and probably no one would accept Walter Map’s tale as it stands. But that tale may very likely be a romantic improvement of the story of Swegen and Eadgifu, transferred from Leominster to Berkeley. Both Leominster and Berkeley were monasteries suppressed in the reign of Eadward. Godwine or his family were concerned in, or profited by, the suppression of both. Both were restored, in one shape or another, in later ways; both became connected with the Abbey of Reading. To substitute one name for the other was one of the most obvious of confusions. The details of the story of course grew, like the details of other stories. Berkeley Abbey, at all events, was suppressed, and Godwine had a power of disposing of its revenues. Here then we have one clear case in which Godwine was concerned in the destruction of a monastery. We do not know whether he had any justification to offer for his conduct, but we know that it was not approved by his own wife.
It appears also that Godwine was charged by the Norman Archbishop Robert with converting some lands belonging to the see of Canterbury to his own use. Here however we for once get the Godwinist version. The lands of the Earl and the Archbishop joined, and there was a dispute about boundaries. We cannot, at this distance of time, say in whose favour a jury would have decided; but it is plain that Robert claimed lands of which Godwine was in actual possession, and that Godwine’s friends looked upon the Archbishop and not the Earl as the intruder. This is a very important case, from our having the tale told from the side of the layman. It is a case which by itself would be enough to make us always weigh the possibility that there may have been another side to many other cases in which we get only the churchman’s statement. It is impossible for us now to tell on whose side the legal right lay in the dispute between Godwine and Robert; but there is every appearance that it was simply a question for a legal tribunal, one in which each side may well have urged its claims in good faith. The story, as told by the Biographer of Eadward (p. 400), runs as follows;
“Accedebat autem ad exercendos odiorum motus pro Episcopo in caussam justam quod terræ quædam Ducis contiguæ erant quibusdam terris quæ ad Christi attinebant Ecclesiam [that is, Christ Church, Canterbury]. Crebræ quoque erant inter eos controversiæ, quod eum dicebat terras archiepiscopatûs sui invasisse, et in injuriâ suâ usibus suis eas tenere. Ferebat autem idem industrius Dux incautiùs furentem Episcopum pacificè.... Coquebat tamen vehementiùs quosdam suorum illa Ducis injuria, et nisi ejus obstiterit prohibitio, gravi Episcopum persæpe multâssent contumeliâ.”
In this last clause we seem to see the over-zealous officers, of whom we hear in other stories, and whom Godwine so characteristically keeps in order.
These are, as far as I know, the only particular cases in which it is possible to test the value of the general remark made by the Abingdon Chronicler as to Godwine’s occupations of Church property. In the case of Berkeley we can say absolutely nothing either way, except so far as Gytha’s scruple may be held to tell against her husband. In the Kentish case Godwine may well have had a perfectly good defence. The charges against Harold are more numerous. They rest mainly on certain entries in Domesday, which have been carefully collected by Sir Henry Ellis (i. 313). Harold is there said to have taken, or to have held unjustly, various pieces of ecclesiastical property, and in most cases it is carefully noted that William caused them to be restored by some legal process. Thus, in Sussex (21 b) we find a virgate of land at Apedroc which Harold “habuit et abstulit à Sancto Johanne.” This seems not to have been restored; it had become a chief dwelling-place of William’s half-brother Earl Robert (“ubi Comes habet aulam suam”), and Robert was to be as much preferred to Saint John, as Saint John was to be preferred to Harold. In Wiltshire (69), at Allington, were four hides “quas injustè abstraxit Heraldus ab ecclesiâ Ambresberie testimonio tainorum sciræ.” Three lordships in Dorset (75 b, 78 b) are said to have been taken by Harold (“abstulerat Heraldus Comes”) from Shaftesbury Abbey, and to have been restored by William on the evidence of a charter of Eadward (“Willelmus Rex eam fecit resaisiri, quia in ipsâ ecclesiâ inventus est brevis cum sigillo Regis Eadwardi præcipiens ut ecclesiæ restituerentur”). So in Cornwall (121) an estate is in like manner restored to Saint Petroc’s. One in Hertfordshire (132) helps us to a date; “Heraldus Comes abstulit inde, ut tota syra testatur, et apposuit in Hiz manerio suo, tribus annis ante mortem Regis Eadwardi (1063).” Another entry, in nearly the same words, but without a date, follows in fol. 133. There are two others in which we see the agency of the reeves or other officers. In Dorset (80) we find that “Elnod tenuit T. R. E. per Comitem Heraldum, qui eam abstulit cuidam clerico.” So in Kent (2), “Alnod cild per violentiam Heraldi abstulit Sancto Martino Merclesham et Hauochesten, pro quibus dedit Canonicis iniquam commutationem.” This last entry is important. The act, though called “violentia,” was really an exchange, and the spirit of these entries in Domesday is so clear that we can hardly venture to say that it may not have been a fair and legal exchange.
There is also a whole string of entries in Herefordshire (181 b, 182), where it is said, “Hoc manerium tenuit Heraldus Comes injustè. Rex Willelmus reddidit Walterio Episcopo.” These must be taken in connexion with two writs addressed by Eadward to Harold in Herefordshire. One (Cod. Dipl. iv. 218) is addressed to him jointly with Bishop Ealdred, and therefore belongs to the time (1058–1060) when Ealdred administered the see after the death of Leofgar (see above, p. 398). This writ confirms to the Priests of Saint Æthelberht’s minster all their ancient rights, it speaks of them as suffering poverty “for God’s love and mine,” and calls on all men to help them. The other (iv. 194), addressed to Harold together with Osbern (see above, p. 346), announces the appointment of Walter to the Bishoprick (in 1060), and requires the restoration of all property alienated from the see. The earlier description of the poverty of the Canons can hardly fail to refer to losses sustained through the ravages of Ælfgar and Gruffydd in 1055 (see above, pp. 388, 391).
There is also a will of Leofric, Bishop of Exeter (Cod. Dipl. iv. 274), in which that Prelate leaves to his Church the land which Harold had lawlessly taken at Topsham (“ðæt land æt Toppeshamme, ðe áh ðe Harold hit mid unlage útnam”). The Bishop died in 1072, but the land had not then been recovered. Topsham appears in the Exon Domesday (p. 87) as a possession of the Crown formerly held by Harold, without any mention of the rights of the Church of Exeter.
The reader must judge how far any of the qualifications with which I set out can be made to bear on any of these cases. What if the land at Topsham, afterwards the port of Exeter, was needed for the defence of the coast? The Bishop would very likely look on its appropriation for such a purpose, even if it were paid for, as a thing done “mid unlage.”
There remains the great story of the alleged quarrel between Harold and Gisa, Bishop of Wells. Of this we know the details, we can trace the growth of misrepresentation, and it may perhaps serve as a key to some of the other stories. Even here we have no statement on Harold’s side, but the original charge against him, as contrasted with its later shapes, pretty well explains itself. The story however is a somewhat long one, and it may moreover fairly count as a part of the general history. I shall therefore keep back its consideration till its proper chronological place in the narrative, when I shall make it the subject of a distinct note. I will now add a few instances which illustrate the general subject by showing that Godwine and Harold by no means stand alone in bearing accusations of this sort. In the case of nearly every powerful man, including the most munificent benefactors to ecclesiastical bodies, we find the same story of the detention of Church property in some shape or other, or of transactions in which it is easy to see the possible groundwork of such a charge.
I mentioned in a former Chapter (i. 289) that the very model of monastic benefactors, Æthelwine the Friend of God, laid claim to, and made good his claim to, certain lands possessed by the Abbey of Ely. As the Ely historian (Hist. El. i. 5) himself tells the story, it is plain that the claim made by the Ealdorman was certainly legal and probably just. Yet the monastic writer clearly thinks that he ought to have given way even to an unjust claim on the part of the Church, and he uses just the same language which Domesday applies to Harold; “postpositâ Sanctæ Ecclesiæ reverentiâ, eamdem terram invadentes sibi vindicârunt.” Soon after (c. 8) we come to a story of the same kind about Æthelwine’s son Ælfwold. Godwine of Lindesey, one of the heroes of Assandun, is spoken of as a pertinacious enemy of the Church of Evesham (see vol. i. p. 568). The story about Harold Harefoot I have mentioned more than once. The passage which I quoted from William of Malmesbury at the beginning of this note also shows that Saint Eadward himself was by some people personally blamed for the destruction of monasteries in his reign. And it is, at any rate, clear that the estates of the dissolved houses of Leominster and Berkeley had become royal property—more legally folkland—just as they would have done in the time of Henry the Eighth. Eadgyth, the rose sprung from the thorn, enjoyed the revenues of Leominster, seemingly without any of the scruples which her mother felt in the case of Berkeley. We find her also (see above, p. 46) engaged in some other transactions about ecclesiastical property, which look at least as doubtful as anything attributed to her father and brother. Nay, one writer goes so far as to charge her sainted husband himself with complicity in her doings of this kind. Twice does the Peterborough historian (Hugo Candidus, Sparke, p. 42) say of possessions held or claimed by that monastery, “Rex et Regina Edgita illam villam vi auferre conati sunt.” So one of the charges brought against Tostig, the benefactor of the Church of Durham (see p. 383), was that he had “robbed God” (see p. 481). Siward also, the founder of Galmanho, and his son Waltheof, who, as a monastic hero, ranks by the side of Æthelwine, both stand charged with detaining lands belonging to the Abbey of Peterborough (see above, p. 374). Eadwine, the brother of Leofric, possessed lands claimed by the Church of Worcester, and the local writer Heming (p. 278) evidently looked on his death at Rhyd-y-Groes as the punishment; “Sed ipse diu hâc rapinâ gavisus non est. Nam ipse non multo post a Grifino Rege Brittonum ignominiosâ morte peremptus est.” Nay, Leofric and Godgifu themselves, the models of all perfection, do not seem to have been quite clear on this score. Her reverence for Saint Wulfstan led Godgifu to suggest to her husband the restoration of certain lordships in his possession which had belonged to the Church of Worcester (“Terras quas antea Dani cæterique Dei adversarii vi abstulerant, et ab ipsâ Wigornensi ecclesiâ penitùs alienaverant.” Heming in Ang. Sacr. i. 541). Her son Ælfgar followed her example. There is also in Domesday (283 b) a most curious entry about certain lands at Alveston in Warwickshire. They are inserted among the estates of the Church of Worcester; but it is said of the sons of the former tenant Bricstuinus (Brihtstán?); “Hoc testantur filii ejus Lewinus [Leofwine], Edmar [Eadmer] et alii quatuor, sed nesciunt de quo, an de Ecclesiâ an de Comite Leuric [Leofric], cui serviebat, hanc terram tenuit. Dicunt tamen quod ipsi tenuerunt eam de L. Comite, et quò volebant cum terrâ poterant se vertere.” Here we may discern a case of free commendation, whether to the Church or to the Earl, but here are also ample materials for a charge against Leofric of detaining the lands of the Church of Worcester. Lastly, I may mention cases in which Prelates like Bishop Ælfweard (p. 69) and Archbishop Ealdred (p. 467) stand charged with wrongfully transferring property from one church to another. These last cases, if they can be made out, seem to an impartial eye just as bad as the occupation of Church lands by laymen. The breach of law is equal, and when a Prelate, as Ealdred is said to have done, robbed the church which he was leaving in favour of the church of which he was taking possession, the personal greediness is equal. In fact, in all these cases, the real crime lies in the breach of law which is implied in the violent or fraudulent occupation of anything, whether the party wronged be clerk or layman, individual or corporation. We must be on our guard alike against the exaggerated notions about the crime of sacrilege put forth by ecclesiastical writers, and also against the opposite prejudices of some moderns, who sometimes talk as if the robbing of a monastery were actually a praiseworthy deed.
On the whole, considering all the instances, we shall perhaps see reason to think that all charges of this kind, charges in which we can very seldom hear both sides, must be taken with great doubt and qualification. On the other hand it is plain that the tenure of Church property, perhaps of all property, was in those rough days very uncertain. Men, we may well believe, often gave with one hand and took with the other. No one did this more systematically than the Great William himself. I will end this long note with the comments of his namesake of Malmesbury on William’s doings in this respect, comments which seem to have been equally applicable to many others among the great men of his age;
“Ita ejus tempore ultro citroque cœnobialis grex excrevit, monasteria surgebant, religione vetera, ædificiis recentia. Sed hìc animadverto mussitationem dicentium, melius fuisse ut antiqua in suo statu conservarentur, quam, illis semimutilatis, de rapinâ nova construerentur” (iii. 278).
The question of Godwine’s marriage or marriages I examined in my first volume (p. 467), and I there came to the conclusion that there is no ground for attributing to him more than one wife, namely Gytha, the daughter of Thurgils Sprakaleg and sister of Ulf. There is no doubt that Gytha was the mother of all those sons and daughters of Godwine who play such a memorable part in our history.
The fullest lists of Godwine’s sons are those given by William of Malmesbury (ii. 200) and Orderic (502 B). William’s list runs thus, Harold, Swegen, Tostig, Wulfnoth, Gyrth, Leofwine. That of Orderic is, Swegen, Tostig, Harold, Gyrth, Ælfgar, Leofwine, Wulfnoth. Saxo (196) speaks of Harold, Beorn, and Tostig as sons of Godwine; that is, he mistook Beorn the nephew of Gytha for her son. Snorro (Laing, iii. 75. Ant. Celt. Scand. 189) has a far more amazing genealogy. He seems to assume that Godwine must have been the father of every famous Englishman of his time, and he reckons up his sons thus—Tostig the eldest, Maurokari (Morkere), Waltheof, Swegen, and Harold. He pointedly adds that Harold was the youngest. It must be on the same principle that Bromton (943) seems to make Godwine the father of Gruffydd of Wales. At least his list runs thus, Swegen, Wulfnoth, Leofwine, Harold, Tostig, and Griffin. So Walter of Hemingburgh (i. 4) gives Godwine a son Griffus, which may be a confusion between Gruffydd and Gyrth. Knighton (2334) gives the sons as Swegen, Harold, Tostig, Wulfnoth, Gyrth, and Leofric. But elsewhere, as Bromton had given Godwine a Gruffydd, Knighton in the same spirit helps him to a Llywelyn. At least he talks (2238) of the “malitia et superbia Haraldi et Lewlini filiorum Godwini.”
The Biographer mentions four sons, Harold, Tostig, Gyrth, and Leofric. This last mistake is odd, as from the combined authority of the Chronicles, Florence, Domesday, and the Tapestry, there can be no doubt that the true name is Leofwine. But the two names are much alike, and both were current in the great Mercian house, whence they probably came into the house of Godwine. If Earl Leofric was the godfather of Godwine’s son, and gave him, not his own name, but that of his father Leofwine, the confusion would be easily accounted for.
Of these sons, there is no doubt about six, namely Swegen, Harold, Tostig, Gyrth, Leofwine, Wulfnoth, who all figure in the history at different points. The only question is whether we ought, on the sole authority of Orderic, to add a seventh son named Ælfgar. According to him, Ælfgar lived and died a monk at Rheims, and Wulfnoth did the like at Salisbury. This is undoubtedly false as regards Wulfnoth; and the tale of a son of Godwine, otherwise unknown, spending his whole life in a French monastery has a somewhat apocryphal sound. At any rate we may dismiss Ælfgar, as a person of whose actions, if he ever existed, we have no knowledge, while of the other six brethren we know a good deal.
Of the daughters of Godwine, there is no need to prove the existence of Eadgyth the Lady. Another daughter, Gunhild, rests on the sure evidence of the Exon Domesday (pp. 96, 99, “Gunnilla filia Comitis Godwini”). She also has a history. A third daughter, Ælfgifu, is more doubtful. Kelham (Domesday, 153) and Sir Henry Ellis (i. 309) speak of “Ælveva soror Heraldi” as occurring in Domesday, but they give no reference, and I have not as yet been able to find her name in the great record. But it seems likely that Godwine had a third daughter, and it is not unlikely that her name was Ælfgifu. It is part of the story of Harold’s oath (Sim. Dun. 1066 and elsewhere) that he promised to marry his sister to one of William’s nobles. Obviously this cannot apply to Eadgyth, nor yet to Gunhild, who was devoted to a religious life. I shall, in my next volume, discuss the question whether this sister may not be the puzzling Ælfgyva of the Tapestry.
Of the order of the sons there is no doubt. Swegen (“filius primogenitus Swanus,” Fl. Wig. 1051) was the eldest. Harold came next. That Harold was older than Tostig is plain from the Biographer (“major natu Haroldus,” 409), and indeed from the whole history. So even Saxo (207) speaks of “minores Godovini filii [which at least includes Tostig] majorem perosi.” Orderic’s notion (492 D) that Harold was younger that Tostig is simply a bit of the Norman legend, devised to represent Harold as depriving his elder brother, sometimes of the Earldom, sometimes of the Kingdom. Snorro’s idea that Harold was the youngest of all is wilder still. The order of the several brothers is marked very plainly in the dates of their promotion to Earldoms; this is Swegen, Harold, Tostig, Gyrth, Leofwine. Wulfnoth, who never held an Earldom, was doubtless the youngest.
The order in which the brothers sign charters is worth notice. Setting aside one impossible charter (Cod. Dipl. iv. 80–84), Swegen always signs before Harold, Harold always before Tostig, Tostig always before Gyrth and Leofwine. But Harold, Gyrth, and Leofwine do not observe so strict an order among themselves. May we not infer from the recorded disposition and actions of Swegen and Tostig that a certain attention to ceremony was needed in their cases, while the other three brothers, who lived and died firm friends, could afford to dispense with it?
The order of the daughters among themselves must have been Eadgyth, Gunhild, Ælfgifu, if there was an Ælfgifu. For a daughter of Godwine and Gytha to have been talked of as an intended wife for any one in 1066, she must have been the very youngest of the family.
The order of the sisters with regard to their brothers is more difficult to fix. It is hopeless to try to fix the place of Gunhild. But, as Ælfgifu must have been the youngest, there is some reason to believe that Eadgyth was the eldest of the family. The Biographer (p. 397) compares four children of Godwine, seemingly Eadgyth, Harold, Tostig, and Gyrth—he never mentions Swegen—to the four rivers of Paradise;