I need not point out the mistakes here, especially the glaring one of putting Harold’s Welsh war after his election to the Kingdom. But the supposed attachment of Ealdgyth to Gruffydd rather than to Harold may be a genuine tradition, as it falls in with other indications.
Two questions here arise about Ealdgyth. Was she the “Eddeva pulcra” of Domesday? and, Was she the only daughter of Ælfgar? Sir Henry Ellis (ii. 79) argues at length that she is “Eddeva pulcra,” in opposition to Mr. Sharon Turner, who identifies that Eddeva with Eadgyth Swanneshals. There is no very distinct evidence, but I rather incline to the latter belief, which I shall have to speak of again. As for the other question, Orderic (511 B) distinctly calls Ealdgyth the only daughter of Ælfgar. But his account is very confused; he not only leaves out Burchard, but he confounds Ælfgar with his father Leofric, and makes Godgifu Ælfgar’s wife instead of his mother. His words are, “Devoti Deo dignique relligionis laude parentes elegantem et multâ laude dignam ediderunt sobolem, Eduinum, Morcarum, et unam filiam nomine Aldit, quæ primò nupsit Guitfrido Regi Guallorum, post cujus mortem sociata est Heraldo Regi Anglorum.” But the genealogy of Leofric’s family which I have already spoken of (vol. i. p. 456. See also Ellis, i. 490) gives Ælfgar a daughter Lucy, who, though unknown to Domesday, inherited the lands of the family (“obtinuit Lucia soror eorum terras paternas”), and who was married, first, in the Conqueror’s time, to Ivo Taillebois, then, in the time of Henry the First, to Roger Fitzgerald, lastly, in the time of Stephen, to Ranulf, Earl of Chester. She had a son by each of the last two husbands. The chronology is as amazing as the whole chronology of this pedigree. A woman whose father died before 1065 is made to bear a son at some time between 1135 and 1154. There was undoubtedly a Lucy, who did marry in succession Roger Fitzgerald and Earl Randolf (Ord. Vit. 871 B), and who was the mother of the Earl’s son William Randolf (an early case of a double name), and who was alive in 1141 (ib. 921 B); but I know of nothing to connect her either with Ivo Taillebois or with the house of Leofric. Lucy, as the name of an Englishwoman in the eleventh century, is as impossible as Rowena or Ulrica, unless indeed the French origin of her mother is again called in. The false Ingulf is, I need not say, great on the subject of Ivo and Lucy, and the legend is still swallowed by novelists and local antiquaries. But it is truly amazing to find Sir Francis Palgrave, who was the first to scotch the Crowland snake, in the same company (iii. 472).
Godgifu herself, the grandmother of so many of our characters, is shown to have survived the Conquest, but to have died before the Survey, by the same evidence which proves the like in the case of her daughter-in-law Ælfgifu. Her lands in Leicestershire (231 b) and Warwickshire (239 b) are entered in exactly the same form as those of the wife of Ælfgar. See also Nottinghamshire (280 b), where she appears in company, among others, with Ælfgifu and with “Goda Comitissa,” that is, her own namesake the sister of Eadward, and mother of Ralph of Hereford. But I cannot but think that some of the entries in Staffordshire (248 b, 249) refer to some other Godgifu. In the entries of which I have spoken, including one immediately following (249 b), she is called reverentially “Godeva Comitissa;” here we simply read “Godeva tenuit et libera fuit;” “Hanc tenuit Godeva etiam post adventum Regis W. in Angliam, sed recedere non potuit cum terrâ.” Surely this cannot be the widow, mother, and grandmother of successive Earls of the Mercians.
I may notice that Godgifu, Ælfgifu, and other wives of Earls, are in Domesday, as in Norman writings generally, freely called “Comitissa.” But I have not found any English equivalent for that title. “Lady” is reserved for the King’s wife; an Earl’s wife seems to be simply called the Earl’s wife and nothing else.
Harold the son of Ralph occurs in Domesday, 129 b, 169, 177, 244. His lands lay in the shires of Gloucester, Worcester, Warwick, and Middlesex, not, oddly enough, where we should have most naturally looked for them, in Herefordshire. In the list of Normans in Duchèsne, p. 1023, he is called Lord of Sudeley. There can however be no doubt that Ewias Harold is called after him. There is nothing to connect that place with Harold the son of Godwine. At the Survey (Domesday, 186) the castle of Ewias was held of the King by Ælfred of Marlborough. It seems to have been granted to him by William Fitz-Osbern, who had restored (“refirmaverat”) it. Its later history, and that of the descendants of Harold, I leave to local inquirers, but it is worth asking whether he was the father of the person described in the Gesta Stephani (931 B) as “Robertus, filius Heraldi, vir stemmatis ingenuissimi.” As Robert was a fighter against the Welsh, it seems not unlikely.
I assume that Harold the son of Ralph must have been a different person from Harold the Staller, who is mentioned in Domesday for Lincolnshire (337; cf. 340 b and 350 b). Ralph had possessions in that part of England (337), but, if Harold had been Ralph’s son, the connexion could hardly fail to have been mentioned there, as it is elsewhere. A mere lad also would hardly have been invested with a Stallership. There are several other Harolds distinct alike from Harold the King, Harold the Staller, and Harold the son of Ralph. Such is “Harold ... homo Eluui hiles, qui poterat ire quo volebat,” in the Domesday for Gloucestershire (170). Cf. 288 for a Harold at Warwick who kept his property under William. There are other small entries in the same name.
That Harold must have been very young when his father died is shown by the entry attached to his Middlesex property (129 b), which shows that, in 1066, he was under the wardship of the Lady Eadgyth; “Hoc manerium tenuit Heraldus filius Radulfi Comitis, quem custodiebat Regina Eddid cum manerio eâ die quâ Rex Edwardus fuit vivus et mortuus.” What follows might seem to imply that the Lady did not prove a very faithful guardian; at any rate young Harold lost the lordship; “Postea Willelmus camerarius tenuit de Reginâ in feudo pro tribus libris per annum de firmâ, et post mortem Reginæ [1074] eodem modo tenuit de Rege.”
We may perhaps infer that Harold’s mother Gytha was dead. She appears (“Gethe uxor Radulfi Comitis,” “Gueth Comitissa,” 148) as a landowner in Buckinghamshire in Eadward’s time, but she had nothing at the time of the Survey. The names Gytha and Harold probably point to a connexion by affinity, spiritual or otherwise, with the House of Godwine. Or is it conceivable that this Gytha is the same as Gytha, daughter of Osgod Clapa, and, no doubt long before this time, widow of Tofig the Proud (see vol. i. p. 591)? In any case, the names show that Ralph, with all his contempt for English tactics, had so far identified himself with England as to take a wife of English or Danish birth.
The indications referred to in the text are all slight when taken separately; still I cannot help thinking that their cumulative force is considerable.
1. There is a charter of Ealdred in Cod. Dipl. iv. 172, in which, after the signatures, among which are those of the King and Earl Harold, we find the formula, “Cum licentiâ Eadwardi Regis et Haroldi Ducis.” In earlier charters, as those of Bishop Oswald, it is common to find the consent of the King and of the Ealdorman expressed in the body of the deed; but this is a different case, as the charter relates to matters in Worcestershire, which was not in Harold’s Earldom. Another charter of 1065 (Cod. Dipl. iv. 162), which Mr. Kemble marks as doubtful, gives Harold the title of “Dei gratiâ Dux.” The King is also “Dei gratiâ,” and the Lady is “Dei pietate;” but no such titles are given to any one else.
I ought to mention that this charter, though not marked as doubtful by Mr. Kemble, has something wrong about it which needs explanation. It is signed by Ealdred as Archbishop, which he became in 1060, and by Walter as Bishop, which he became in 1061; but it is also signed by Earl Leofric, who died in 1057. There is however no need to believe that the charter is spurious. Transcribers often added a description to a simple signature, so that a charter, as we have it, often has its witnesses described, not by the titles which they bore at the time, but by higher titles which they bore afterwards. But, even if both documents are spurious, I still think that they prove something. A forger, unless he lived very near the time, would have no temptation to invent anything in favour of Harold. He must have imitated some genuine formula.
2. Nothing can be stronger than the way in which Florence couples together the King and the Earl in describing the homage of the Welsh Princes in 1064 or 1065; “Rex ... cui et Haroldo Comiti fidelitatem illi juraverunt, et ad imperium illorum mari terrâque se fore paratos.” This reminds one of Hugh Capet and his son Robert (see vol. i. p. 269), or of any other case of joint sovereignty. This language of so discreet a writer as Florence is different from the Biographer’s rhetorical coupling of Eadward and Tostig quoted in p. 618.
3. The description of Harold as “Dux Anglorum” in the Bayeux Tapestry is well known. See vol. i. pp. 179, 289. We have indeed elsewhere come across “Algarus quidam, Comes Anglorum” (see p. 629), but the “quidam” makes a great difference.
4. Far stronger however than all is the title given to Harold by Florence when describing his election to the Crown. He is then “Subregulus Haroldus, Godwini Ducis filius.” The “Subregulus” is surely meant to be something more than the “Dux.” In fact “Subregulus,” “Undercyning,” is a title which is most familiarly given to vassal Princes, as to those who attended Eadgar at Chester (Flor. Wig. 973), and to Gruffydd himself (Chron. Ab. 1056). But I know of no instance of such a title being ever given to any mere subject except Harold, unless a parallel is sought in the strange East-Anglian titles quoted in vol. i. p. 289. But I cannot think that the description of “Half-King” was meant as a serious title.
The pilgrimage of Harold to Rome, and, still more, his investigations into the political state of Gaul, are among the additions to our knowledge which we owe to the Biographer of Eadward. The latter most remarkable piece of information is wholly new; with regard to the pilgrimage, the Biographer only confirms a statement which we might otherwise have set down as doubtful.
The words of the writer of the De Inventione may be taken as implying, though not directly asserting, extensive foreign travels on the part of Harold. When speaking of the relics given by the Earl to his church at Waltham, he calls him (c. 14), “In diversis terrarum partibus non segnis conquisitor”—namely of relics and such like treasures. The romantic biographer of Harold, speaking of the same relics, distinctly asserts (p. 182) that some of them were obtained by the Earl on a pilgrimage to Rome; “Adierat quidem antea, nondum videlicet Anglorum consequutus regnum, limina Christi Apostolorum,” &c. This is the sort of point on which even so romantic a writer as Harold’s biographer was likely to preserve a bit of trustworthy tradition; still one would hardly have ventured to assert the fact on his sole authority. The Life of Eadward has now put the fact of the pilgrimage beyond doubt, and it has also shown that Harold’s journeys in other parts of the world were not wholly owing to a desire of collecting relics. This is a good illustration of the way in which truth sometimes lurks in very suspicious quarters.
The fact of the pilgrimage then is certain; at its date we can only guess. All the Chronicles, oddly enough, are silent about the pilgrimage of Harold, though that of Tostig is carefully recorded. But there are several indications which may lead us to a probable conjecture. If the Biographer of Eadward pays the least regard to chronology, Harold’s journey took place after Gyrth’s appointment to his Earldom, which we have seen reason to fix in 1057, and before Tostig’s pilgrimage, which the Worcester Chronicle fixes to 1061. If we may at all trust Harold’s biographer, which, for the nonce, it seems that we may, the journey took place before the consecration at Waltham in 1060. We have thus two years to choose from, 1058 and 1059, and two considerations will, I think, lead us to fix on the former of the two. That was the year in which Ælfgar (see p. 434) was outlawed for the second time, and almost immediately returned to his Earldom by force. Such violent doings seem to point to a time when the powers of government were relaxed, as they doubtless would be, by the absence of Harold. Again, the grant of the pallium to Stigand, who, it should be remembered, did not go for it in person, seems to point to a time when some unusually strong influence, such as the personal presence of the great Earl, could be brought to bear on the Papal mind. There is then no direct proof, but there is, I think, a strong probability, that this remarkable journey on the part of Harold took place in the year 1058.
The question of the oath I shall examine in the next volume. I will here only quote in full, without professing to understand every word of it, the passage from the Biographer (p. 410) which describes Harold’s political studies in Gaul; “At ille superior [Haroldus] mores, consilia, et vires Gallicorum principum, non tam per suos quam per se, scrutatus, astutiâ et callido animi ingenio et diuturniori cum procrastinatione intentissimè notaverat, ut in eis habitaturus esset, si eis opus haberet in alicujus negotii administratione. Adeò quoque consilio suo exhaustos pernoverat, ut nullâ ab eis relatione falli posset. Attentiùs ergo consideratâ Francorum consuetudine, quum ipse quoque apud eos non obscuri esset nominis et famæ, Romam ad confessionem Apostolorum processit.” I conceive that the general sense is what I said in the text, but the passage is most obscure, no doubt purposely obscure. To have set forth Harold’s negotiations in France in a clear light would not have suited either the position or the plan of the Biographer. Writing under William, to Eadgyth, he never mentions William’s name, or even alludes to him in any intelligible way. The words which I have put in Italics are the hardest to understand of all. Do they imply that Harold formed, or contemplated, alliances with any French Princes, say with the Count of Anjou or with the King himself, in case mutual support against William should ever be needed?
The original account of the matters in dispute between Harold and Gisa will be found, in Gisa’s own words, in the Historiola de Primordiis Episcopatûs Somersetensis, printed in Hunter’s Ecclesiastical Documents, p. 15. Gisa’s narrative grows into a far more violent account in the local history of Wells, by a Canon of that Church in the fifteeenth century, printed in Anglia Sacra, i. 559. Lastly, we get the story with further improvements in Godwin’s Lives of the Bishops and other later works. The whole matter is well discussed, and gone into most thoroughly, by Mr. J. R. Green in the Transactions of the Somersetshire Archæological and Natural History Society, 1863–4, p. 148, a paper which has suggested several points in the present note.
That the King who made the original grant to Duduc was Cnut is plain from the words of Gisa, who speaks of them as Duduc’s private property obtained before he became Bishop (“possessiones quas hæreditario jure a rege ante episcopatum promeruerat”). Duduc became Bishop in 1033. It is difficult to understand how the Abbey of Gloucester could have formed part of the grant, or how this statement is to be reconciled with the local history of Gloucester referred to in p. 435. Gisa goes on to say that, when Harold took the other property, Gloucester was granted to Stigand (“præfatum monasterium injustâ ambitione a Rege sibi dari petiit [Stigandus] et impetratum ad horam obtinuit.” On Abbeys held by Stigand see Hist. Eliens. ii. 41, Gale 514). Gloucester therefore has no further connexion with the story, which turns wholly on the possessions in Somersetshire. These were the two lordships of Banwell and Congresbury. There were also relics, church-plate, and books. These moveable goods, we may perhaps guess, found their way to Waltham.
The grant of Duduc to the Church of Wells is described in these words; “[possessiones] roboratas cyrographis Regiæ auctoritatis ac donationis Deo Sanctoque Andreæ tempore Edwardi piissimi Regi obtulit”). Gisa then records what seems to be an oral bequest of the moveable property made by Duduc on his death-bed (“jam imminente die vocationis suæ adhibuit”). Duduc dies and is buried, and the story goes on;—“Haroldus verò, tunc temporis Dux Occidentalium Saxonum, non solùm terras invadere, verùm etiam episcopalem sedem omnibus his spoliare non timuit.” There is nothing in Gisa’s narrative to imply that Harold seized any part of the ancient possessions of the See, but only the new gifts of Duduc. Gisa then goes on to mention the poor estate in which he found his Church, the small number of the Canons, and their wide departure from the strictness of Lotharingian discipline. To help him in his schemes of reform, he begged certain lands of the King and the Lady, namely Wedmore, the scene of the famous peace between Ælfred and Guthrum (see vol. i. p. 48), and the lordships of Mark and Mudgeley in the same neighbourhood. Much about these gifts, and about other possessions and acquisitions of Gisa, will be found in the charters in Cod. Dipl. iv. 163, 195, 196, 197, 198, 199, 257, charters addressed to Harold, and in which the restoration of anything taken from the See is commanded. (See Mr. Green, p. 154.) But there is no mention of either Banwell or Congresbury, except in the manifestly spurious document in iv. 163, on which see especially Mr. Green’s note, p. 153. Gisa then goes on to say that he excommunicated one Alsie (Ælfsige?) who detained from the See the lordship of Winesham (see Domesday, 89 b), even after it was adjudged to the See by the Scirgemót (“judicium provincialium”). He then mentions his intention, never earned into effect, of excommunicating Harold himself (“Haroldum etiam Ducem, qui Ecclesiam mihi comissam spoliaverat, nunc secretò nunc palam correctum, pari sententiâ cogitabam ferire”). Then Harold, after his election to the Crown, promises to restore the disputed lordships and to grant others as well (“non solùm ea quæ tulerat se redditurum verum etiam ampliora spopondit daturum”). With this statement must be compared Harold’s writ in favour of Gisa in Cod. Dipl. iv. 305, where all the Bishop’s rights and possessions are confirmed to him in the strongest language, but without the mention of any particular places. Gisa then tells us how, after William’s accession, he made his complaint to the new King and obtained the restoration of Winesham. He goes on to mention his acquisition of Combe (p. 18) and other places, but he says nothing about Congresbury and Banwell, the lordships originally in dispute. But we learn their disposal from Domesday. Both are entered there as being held by Harold T. R. E. At the time of the Survey, Congresbury (Domesday, 87) was held by the King, except some portions which had been alienated to different persons, Gisa himself, possibly in his personal character, being among them. Banwell (89 b) was held by the Bishop. It is plain then that the whole controversy with Harold, as far as real property was concerned, related to these two lordships. There is nothing about any other property of the See, nothing to imply that the poverty of the Canons of which Gisa so feelingly complains was in any way caused by the Earl’s occupation of Banwell and Congresbury. The story is plainly one of disputed right to those two lordships and to the moveable goods of Duduc.
Gisa of course tells his own story in his own way. But he tells it without any special reviling of Harold. Mr. Green goes very minutely into the credibility of his story, but I do not think that he convicts the Bishop of any gross misrepresentation. We must take Gisa’s statement as we find it; we must judge as we can of his honesty and of his means of information. There is no direct confirmation and no direct contradiction of his tale. Duduc’s deed of gift does not exist; in none of the many charters of Eadward relating to Gisa’s affairs is there any mention of any quarrel between him and Harold; in fact there is no mention of the disputed lordships at all. There is no record of any appeal made by Gisa to the King, nor does he himself distinctly state that he made any. On the other hand, Gisa’s story draws some slight confirmation from the fact that Banwell does seem to have been granted to the See by William. Harold’s own charter in Cod. Dipl. iv. 305 may be taken in two ways. Its tone, as Mr. Green says, is quite friendly. It may be a mere guaranty of Gisa against Ælfsige or any other possible enemies. But I think it is more likely that Harold, at a time when it was his interest to conciliate everybody, tried to conciliate Gisa by a grant of the disputed lands, that his intention was hindered by his death, and afterwards partially carried out by William. But anyhow Gisa’s own story does not imply any fraud or violence on the part of Harold. It is simply a story of a disputed claim to certain lands and goods. The tale takes a very different shape in later writers.
Thus, in the story given by the Canon of Wells (Ang. Sacr. i. 559) we find quite another state of things. First of all, the poor estate of the Church of Wells, and the small number of its Canons, are attributed to the spoliations of Harold, an idea which Gisa’s story does not even suggest; “Hic [Giso] invenit tantùm decem [later writers seem to have read “quinque”—either of the numbers complained of as being small might startle modern legislators and modern residentiaries] canonicos in Ecclesiâ Wellensi, tam bonis mobilibus et ornamentis ecclesiasticis quam possessionibus ad ecclesiam suam spectantibus per Haroldum Comitem Cantiæ et Westsexiæ spoliatos et publicæ mendicitati subjectos”). He then records the gifts of Eadward and Eadgyth, as also Harold’s accession to the Crown, which is told in true Norman fashion. The first act of the new King is to confiscate all the possessions of Gisa and the Church of Wells (“Is statim omnes possessiones dicti Gisonis et Canonicorum Wellensis Ecclesiæ perpetim confiscavit”). His death and the Conquest of England are of course the punishment. William then restores all that Harold took, “exceptis Congresburye, Banewell et Kilmington et plurimis aliis.”
Even in this account we have wandered a good way from Gisa’s own tale. There is something amusing in the exception to William’s restoration—Congresbury and Banwell, the only places in dispute, and Kilmington and other places of which Gisa tells us nothing. William is made to restore precisely those lands of which the See had always kept undisputed possession. But there are greater things in store. In the sixteenth century it was found out that Gisa’s autobiography and Harold’s writ were both of them mistaken, and that Harold not only robbed the church of Wells, but drove its Bishop into banishment. Here is the story as told by Bishop Godwin, Catalogue of Bishops, p. 291. Gisa is consecrated at Rome—then
“At his returne, he found the estate of his Church very miserable; Harald the Queene’s brother that afterwards became for a while king of England, being yet a private man,
upon what occasion I know not, had spoyled the Church of all ornaments, chased away the Canons, and invading all the possessions of the same, had converted them to his owne use: so that the Canons remaining which fled not for feare of this tyrant (they were onely five) they (I say) were faine to beg their bread. The Bishop complaining unto the King of this outragious havocke, found cold comfort at his hands: For, whether it were for feare of Harald’s power or his wives displeasure, he caused no restitution at all to be made. Onely the Queene was content to give of her owne, Mark and Modesly unto the Church. After the death of King Edward, Gisa was faine to fly the land, till such time as Harald the sacrilegious usurper being vanquished and slaine, William the Conqueror was a meane to restore, not only him to his place and countrey, but his Church also to all that the other had violently taken from it, except some small parcels that (I know not by what meanes) had been conveighed unto the Monastery of Glocester.”
Here we have simple romance; a later writer has attempted something like philosophy. The local historian of Somersetshire, Collinson (iii. 378), boldly connects the story of Gisa with the banishment of Godwine and the descent of Harold at Porlock. At the same time, though Harold’s conduct is pronounced to be “outrageous,” it is made out to be simply taking possession of his own goods. But the worthy antiquary shall set forth his special revelation in his own words;
“On his entry into his diocese, he found the estates of the church in a sad condition; for Harold earl of Wessex, having with his father, Godwin earl of Kent, been banished the kingdom, and deprived of all his estates in this county by King Edward, who bestowed them on the church of Wells, had in a piratical manner made a descent in these parts, raised contributions among his former tenants, spoiled the church of all its ornaments, driven away the canons, invaded their possessions, and converted them to his own use. Bishop Giso in vain expostulated with the King on this outrageous usage; but received from the Queen, who was Harold’s sister, the manors of Mark and Mudgley, as a trifling compensation for the injuries which his bishoprick had sustained. Shortly after [after 1060] Harold was restored to King Edward’s favour, and made his captain-General; upon which he in his turn procured the banishment of Giso, and when he came to the crown, resumed most of those estates of which he had been deprived. Bishop Giso continued in banishment till the death of Harold, and the advancement of the Conqueror to the throne, who in the second year of his reign restored all Harold’s estates to the church of Wells, except some small parcels which had been conveyed to the monastery of Gloucester; in lieu of which he gave the manor and advowson of Yatton, and the manor of Winsham.”
One is inclined to ask with Henry the Second (Gir. Camb. Exp. Hib. i. 40. p. 290 ed. Dimock), “Quære a rustico illo utrùm hoc somniaverit?” But these things have their use. Every instance of the growth of a legend affords practice in the art of distinguishing legend from history. And, in this special case, the difference between the popular version and the real contemporary statement may lead us to weigh somewhat carefully all charges of outrageous sacrilege, whether it is Harold, William, or any one else against whom they are brought. The lay lion constantly wants a painter, and I know not that he ever finds one, save when we have the quarrel between Godwine and Robert (see above, p. 547) described by the friendly Biographer.
On this story of Gisa’s I may make two further incidental remarks. Combe, one of the lordships added by Gisa to his see, was bought by him of Azor—“a quodam meo parochiano Arsere”—which no doubt should be Atsere—“dicto.” Its former possession by Azor is witnessed also by Domesday 89. We have seen (p. 510) that there was at least two bearers of this singular name, a name equally singular whether its owner were an Englishman or a foreigner. Others, or the same, occur in Lincolnshire (337), distinguished as “Azer f. Sualevæ,” and “Azer f. Burg.,” and in Buckinghamshire (147 b) as “Azor filius Toti.” One among these Azors certainly left three sons, who bore the foreign names of Goscelin, William, and Henry (Domesday 53 and 216 b). The last of these names, unknown in England, was equally so in Normandy, till William bestowed it on his youngest son. An “Adzurus” signs the Waltham Charter (Cod. Dipl. iv. 159) with the title of “Regis dapifer.” But the curious thing is the number of times in which we find the name of Azor connected with the buying and selling of land, both under Eadward and under William. Here Gisa buys Combe of Azor; we have already (p. 546) seen Godwine buy Woodchester of Azor. On the other hand we read in Domesday (35 b) of Azor buying lands in Surrey, “quam unus liber homo tenuit sub Rege E., sed pro quâdam necessitate suâ vendidit Azori T. R. Willelmi.” We have already seen two Azors benefactors to Westminster, and in Domesday (34) we find one of them a benefactor to the Abbey of Chertsey; “Ipsa Abbatia tenet Henlei. Azor tenuit donec obiit, et dedit Ecclesiæ pro animâ suâ, tempore Regis W., ut dicunt monachi, et inde habent brevem Regis.” In the words in Italics we see the germs of a possible controversy.
This Azor, or these Azors, though of no direct importance in history, awaken a certain interest through their incidental connexion with greater men, and it would be quite worth the while of local inquirers in the counties where their lands lay to search out any further details about them.
The other point is this. I suggested in the text (p. 450) that the estates of a foreigner dying without heirs would probably go to the King. This, if not an universal, was certainly a local custom. Among the customs of the town of Oxford (Domesday 154 b) we read, “Si quis extraneus in Oxeneford manere deligens et domum habens sine parentibus ibi vitam finierit, Rex habebat quidquid reliquerit.” “Extraneus” may possibly mean simply a “foreigner” in the sense of a non-burgess, but, if he were a non-Englishman, the case would be stronger still.
There is certainly something startling in the notion of a brother of Godwine and uncle of Harold, if he wished for ecclesiastical preferment at all, having to wait for it till the year 1063. But the evidence, though piecemeal, looks, at first sight, like it. That an Abbot of New Minster died at Senlac, and that his house therefore lay for a while under William’s heavy displeasure, are facts which have long been known, and which I shall have to speak of in their proper places. But one of the authorities for the statement, the Manuscript called “Destructio Monasterii de Hidâ,” printed in the Monasticon of 1682, i. 210, and in the New Monasticon, ii. 437, makes this Abbot an uncle of Harold; “Rex Haroldus habuit avunculum nomine Godwynum, Abbatem de Hydâ.” The writer then goes on to speak of the Abbot joining his nephew’s muster at the battle. It would not do to press the word “avunculus” in its classical sense, and to make the Abbot a brother of Gytha. The purely English name Godwine was most unlikely to be borne by a son of Thorgils Sprakaleg. “Avunculus” must be taken in the sense of “patruus,” and the difficulty of Godwine having a brother bearing his own name is taken away when, from another local manuscript, referred to, though not fully printed in the Monasticon, ii. 428, we find that the Abbot’s real name was not Godwine, but Ælfwig. I have to thank Mr. Edwards, the Editor of the Liber de Hydâ, for the following extract from the manuscript Annales de Hydâ. The list of Abbots of New Minster, during the time with which I am concerned, stands thus;
“1021. Alnothus.
1035. Alwyus.
1057. Alfnotus.
1063. Alwyus, frater Godwyni Comitis.
1066. Alwyus occiditur, et vacavit hæc ecclesia ii. annis.” Cf. Edwards, Liber de Hydâ, p. xxxvii.
Here we plainly have Ælfwig, brother of Earl Godwine, appointed Abbot in 1063. The writer of the “Destructio” probably meant to write something like “avunculum, nomine Alwynum, fratrem Comitis Godwyni,” and the two similar endings got jumbled together. There is another case in which the name Godwine has been written instead of another name in Domesday (146), where a Thegn is described as “homo Goduini cilt Abbatis Westmonasteriensis,” meaning of course Abbot Eadwine (see p. 509). But here another question arises. The alternation of the names Ælfnoth and Ælfwig in the list of Abbots suggests the conjecture that we have here a case of a man—or rather two men—resigning his office and taking it again. We have seen other examples in the case of Archbishop Eadsige (pp. 68, 113) and of Bishop Hermann (pp. 405, 406). If so, Ælfwig was first appointed in 1035, a much more likely time for the first promotion of a brother of Godwine than 1063. But, on the other hand, the fact that only the second entry of the name “Alwyus” has the addition “frater Godwyni Comitis,” may be taken as distinguishing the Ælfwig of 1063 from the Ælfwig of 1035. Taken alone it certainly looks that way, but it is hardly conclusive. This point I do not undertake to decide; but I think we have quite evidence enough for the existence of an Ælfwig, Abbot of New Minster, uncle of King Harold and dying by his side.
If the “Annales” did not distinctly call him “frater Godwyni Comitis,” I should have been tempted to identify this Abbot Ælfwig, uncle of Harold, with the Ælfric, kinsman of Godwine, who was elected to the see of Canterbury in 1050 (see p. 119). The word “avunculus” is sometimes used rather laxly, and it might perhaps mean what is sometimes called a “Welsh uncle,” that is the first cousin of a parent. Moreover the Biographer now and then stumbles in his English names, as when he calls Leofwine, Leofric. But the description of Ælfwig as Godwine’s brother seems to exclude this. And if the two Ælfwigs are the same, it is impossible, as, in 1050, Ælfwig would be Abbot of New Minster, when Ælfric was a monk of Christ Church. Still one would like, if one could, to find a career for a man of whom all that we know is that he once came so near to eminence as the Ælfric of 1050.
With regard to the events which led to the banishment of Tostig, we have to make the same sort of comparison of authorities which we made in describing the banishment and the return of Godwine. Our fullest accounts are found in the Worcester Chronicle, in Florence, and in the Life of Eadward. Some further details are supplied by the Abingdon and Peterborough Chronicles and by William of Malmesbury. As usual, the Chroniclers look on the matter from the point of view of the nation, the Biographer looks on it from the point of view of the Court. Each therefore, as in other cases, fills up gaps in the other. We must also remember that the Biographer lies under the necessity of making out as fair a case as he can for Eadward, Harold, and Tostig all at once. But, writing as he did to Eadgyth, his chief object was to say all that could be said on behalf of Tostig. It is in the Life then that we must look for the fullest account of the doings and feelings of Eadward and Tostig, while the Chroniclers give us the fullest account of the doings of the Northumbrian people. Florence seems to have given special attention to the early part of the story, and he has, as in some other cases, preserved the names of individual actors who are not mentioned elsewhere. William of Malmesbury, as he has often done before, helps us to reports of speeches, either traditionally remembered or which he himself thought were in character. Even in this latter aspect, these speeches are worthy of attention, as they never take those rhetorical and other impossible shapes which are often taken by the harangues in Orderic and elsewhere.
The first point where the different narratives show their peculiar characters in such a shape as to amount to a contradiction, is found with regard to the whereabouts of Tostig at the time of the revolt. The Worcester and Peterborough Chronicles do not say where he was; William of Malmesbury (ii. 200), probably writing with the Peterborough Chronicle before him, fancied that Tostig was at York, or at least somewhere in Northumberland, and he seemingly mistook the force of the word “utlagodon,” as he expands it into “solitarium repertum ex regione fugârunt, pro contuitu ducatûs occidendum non arbitrati.” But the Abingdon Chronicler, writing within the bounds of Wessex, mentions the name of a place which was more likely to be known to him than to his Mercian brethren; “Tostig wæs þa æt Brytfordan mid þam kinge.” The Biographer, still more accurately, quarters them (422) in some of the forests of the neighbourhood, whence they afterwards go to Bretford to hold the Gemót.
With regard to the doings of the rebel Gemót of York, Florence distinguishes the acts of the two days more accurately than any of the Chroniclers. He alone distinguishes the executions, unjust or otherwise, of Amund and Reavenswart on the Monday, from the mere massacre of Tuesday. The Chroniclers run the events of both days together. In the words of Peterborough and Worcester, the Northumbrians “utlagodon heora eorl Tostig and ofslogon his hiredmenn [“huskarlas” in Abingdon] ealle þa hi mihton to cuman, ægðer ge Englisce ge Dænisce.” Florence, after describing the death of the two officers, goes on, “die sequenti plus quam cc. viros ex curialibus [hiredmenn] illius in boreali parte Humbræ fluminis [“Humbra” must mean the Ouse] peremerunt.” Then follows the plundering of the treasury, which is much the same in all accounts. But the Biographer naturally waxes more indignant and rhetorical in his description of the massacre. Men, he tells us (421), took the opportunity to slay their private enemies “nullus ergo modus fit in occasione; rapitur hic et ille ad necem etiam pro familiari odio cujusque”). That the movement extended beyond Northumberland is not implied either by the Abingdon Chronicler or by Florence, whose story at this point becomes rather meagre, but it comes out in the Worcester and Peterborough Chroniclers, as also in the Biographer, though in two very different shapes. From the two Chroniclers we learn the adhesion of the shires of Nottingham, Derby, and Lincoln to the rebel cause, but it is only the Biographer who asserts a massacre anywhere but at York. “Fit cædes,” he says, “multorum in Eboracâ, vel Lincolniâ civitate, in plateis, in aquis, in silvis, et in viis.” Every one who had been at anytime in Tostig’s service (“quicumque poterat notari quod de ejus aliquando fuerit curiâ”) was everywhere put to death without mercy. This all may be or may not be, but though we can quite understand that the men of the Danish shires of Mercia might sympathize with their Northumbrian brethren, one can hardly fancy that many of Tostig’s Housecarls would be found at Lincoln.
But the most important difference between our several accounts is to be found in the different statements as to the place where the negotiations took place between the King and the rebels. The Chroniclers of course give the fullest accounts of the doings of the insurgents, while the Biographer enlarges most fully on the counsels of the King. To judge from him only (422), we should think that all the negotiations took place at Oxford (“Axonevorde oppidum”), while from the Worcester and Peterborough Chroniclers, it would seem that all took place at Northampton. But the Abingdon Chronicler, followed by Florence, distinguishes between two assemblies, one at each place (“and þa wel raðe þaræfter wæs mycel gemot æt Norðhamtune, and swa æt Oxenaforda”). The Biographer sets forth the various messages which were sent by the King, and he naturally thinks chiefly of the place where the matter was finally settled, namely at Oxford. The minds of the two Mercian Chroniclers were no less naturally fixed on Northampton and the ravages which happened in its neighbourhood. Nothing is more likely than that, while messages were passing to and fro, the Northumbrian host should advance, and take up their head-quarters at Oxford instead of at Northampton. I therefore accept the Abingdon account, and hold that the final Gemót on the feast of Saint Simon and Saint Jude was held at Oxford.
The repeated messages which passed between the King and the rebels seem implied in the words of the Abingdon Chronicler, who recognizes the gathering at Northampton as well as that at Oxford as a “mycel gemót.” The Biographer is still more express; “Rex Eadwardus, vir Deo dignus, putans indomitum vulgus solitâ sedare sapientiâ, pia per legatos illis mittit mandamina, ut scilicet quiescerent ab inceptâ dementiâ et jus legemque reciperent de omni quam in eum demonstrare possent injuriâ” (see pp. 491, 136). Then comes the answer of the rebels, then come further messages from the King (“Quum benignissimus rex item et tertiò missis legationibus eos ab insanâ intentione diverso conciliorum conatu amovere tentaret, nec perficeret”); the King then goes from the woods to Bretford (“a silvestribus locis ubi more suo caussâ assiduæ venationis morabatur, secessit ad Brethevorde regium vicum oppidoque regio Wiltuni proximum”), and there holds the council at which the royal answer to the rebels is finally determined on. The Biographer does not mention Harold personally, but all the Chroniclers and Florence describe him as being at the head of the embassy. The answer of the rebels is given “Haroldo West-Saxonum Duci et aliis quos Rex Tostii rogatu pro pace redintegrandâ ad eos miserat.” William of Malmesbury alone makes Harold go with an army “ut propulsaret injuriam.” This is probably a confusion with Eadward’s later anxiety to send a military force against the rebels. Harold would doubtless take some Housecarls with him for safety’s sake; but what he headed was clearly an embassy and not a military expedition.
In the answer sent by the insurgents to the King, I have followed William of Malmesbury, as the sentiments which he puts into their mouths so exactly suit the circumstances of the case. When he begins “Northanhimbri, licet non inferiores numero essent, tamen quieti consulentes,” he is to some extent led away by his notion of Harold having come with an army, but the matter of the answer is thoroughly in character; “Factum apud eum excusant; se homines liberè natos, liberè educatos, nullius Ducis ferociam pati posse, a majoribus didicisse aut libertatem aut mortem.” The Biographer evidently colours in the opposite direction; at the same time the conditional threat of war made by the rebels sounds authentic; “Deo itaque Regique suo rebelles, spretâ pietatis legatione, remandant Regi, aut eumdem Ducem suum citiùs à se et à toto Angliæ Regno amitteret, aut eos in commune hostes hostis ipse haberet.” The Worcester and Peterborough Chronicles give the matter of the message in the simplest and most neutral form; but it is from them that we learn that the answer was carried by messengers from the rebel camp who came to the King’s Court in company with Harold; “Hi lægdon ærende on hine [Harold] to þam cynge Eadwarde, and eac ærendracan mid him sendon, and bædon þat hi moston habban Morkere heom to Eorle.” The description of the Council in which this answer was discussed comes wholly from the Biographer, and, as it is just the sort of point on which he is always well informed, I have simply followed his narrative in my text. The Chroniclers give the result only; “and se cynge þæs geuðe, and sende eft Harold heom to Hamtune.” The efforts of Harold to reconcile all parties come out strongly in the Abingdon Chronicle; “Harold Eorl wolde heora seht wyrcan, gif he mihte; ac he na mihte.” Florence gives him several companions in this attempt; “Dum Haroldus et alii quamplures Comitem Tostium cum iis pacificare vellent, omnes unanimi consensu contradixerunt.” Harold’s conduct in finally yielding to the demands of the rebels is pointedly approved by William of Malmesbury; “Hæc Haroldus audiens, qui magis quietem patriæ quam fratris commodum attenderet, revocavit exercitum.” Here we again have William’s former mistake about Harold’s coming with an army. The description of Eadward’s state of mind, his anxiety to make war, his complaints and the cause of his final illness, all come from the Biographer only; but William of Malmesbury in another part of his work (iii. 252) gives a remarkable picture nearly to the same effect, which I have quoted in p. 495, note 4.
That the outlawry of Tostig and his accomplices was the act of a formal Gemót comes out most strongly in the Abingdon Chronicle, where, as in some former cases, the words of the formal decree seem to peep out; “And eall his Eorldom hyne anrædlice forsóc and geutlagode and ealle þa mid hym þe unlage rærdon, forþam þe he rypte God ærost, and ealle þa bestrypte þe he ofer mihte, æt life and æt hande. And hig namon heom þa Morkere to Eorle.” The same formal character of the meeting is implied in the renewal of Cnut’s Law on which I have enlarged in the text. In the rhetoric of the Biographer all this is lost.
With regard to the actual departure of Tostig from England, Florence alone seems to depart from his usual guide at Abingdon, and to assert an expulsion by force. I have already, in p. 500, quoted the passages which bear upon the matter.
One word more as to the answer of the Northumbrians. M. Emile de Bonnechose (ii. 118), following what edition of William of Malmesbury I know not, for “nullius Ducis ferociam,” reads “nullius Daci,” and on that reading thus comments; “La dénomination de danois [Dacus], donnée ici à Tosti, fils de Godwin et de Githa, sœur du roi de Danemark, est digne d’attention. Cette citation du moine de Malmesbury, suffirait pour ébranler le système selon lequel Godwin et sa famille auraient été toujours considérés comme les représentants d’un parti national, également hostile aux Danois et aux Normands.” It is a strong measure to reverse the whole history of a period simply because M. de Bonnechose has somehow read “Daci” instead of “Ducis,” but the real expression of William of Malmesbury is a very remarkable one. The protestation of the Northumbrians, “se nullius Ducis ferociam pati posse,” sounds very like a wish for a King of the Northumbrians instead of an Earl.
The expression in the text (p. 497) “between the Thames and the Tweed” must be corrected by the minuter inquiries into the extent of the Earldoms in p. 566 and elsewhere. It is most likely that, after the death of Ælfgar, the Mercian Earldom nowhere reached so far south as the Thames.