APPENDIX. (continued 7)

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 781them 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 782same 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 783wish 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 784of 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, 785proposes 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 786partnership 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 787ego 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.

NOTE TTT. p. 512. The Burial of Harold the First.

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 788mention 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 789consecrated 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.”

NOTE VVV. p. 516. The Trial and Acquittal of Godwine.

A point to be specially noticed in this trial is the form of words which Florence, the only primary authority who records any form, 790puts 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, 791ventures 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.

NOTE WWW. p. 520. The Origin of Earl Siward.

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 7921049. 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.

NOTE XXX. p. 528. Tofig the Proud.

A certain amount of interest cannot fail to attach to Tofig as Harold’s forerunner in the foundation of Waltham. Of the Waltham history, “De Inventione Sanctæ Crucis,” I shall speak more at large when I come to Harold’s time (see vol. ii. Appendix RR). 793All that is known of Tofig is collected by Professor Stubbs in his edition of that tract. Nothing but local partiality could describe him as “Tovi le Prude, qui totius Angliæ post regem primus, stallere, vexillifer regis, monarchiam gubernabat.” (c. 7; cf. c. 14.) Professor Stubbs does not seem quite clear as to his being Staller, but he certainly was an important person. He appears in Florence as “Danicus et præpotens vir Tovius, Pruda cognomento.” He signs many charters of Cnut, one of them in 1033 (Cod. Dipl. iv. 44) distinctly as “Tovi Pruda.” He appears also with the same surname in Cod. Dipl. iv. 54, where he is sent by Cnut on a special mission into Herefordshire to attend a Scirgemót held by Bishop Æthelstan and Earl Ranig (see p. 520), the account of which, though not illustrating the life or character of Tofig, gives us one of the most living pictures of Old-English jurisprudence. Tofig’s surname was needed to distinguish him from two namesakes, “Tovi hwita” and “Tovi reada,” who sign in 1024. Cod. Dipl. iv. 31. “Tofig minister,” who signs under Eadward in 1054 (Cod. Dipl. iv. 135), and who was Sheriff of Somerset between 1061 and 1066 (see Cod. Dipl. iv. 171, 197, 199), must, if the Waltham narrative be at all accurate, be a different man.

In the name of Tofig’s son Æthelstan, as in that of Ranig’s son Eadwine (see p. 520), we see an instance of the tendency among the Danish settlers under Cnut to identify themselves with England and to give their children English names.

Tofig must have died soon after his marriage with Gytha (see De Inv. 14; “Tandem consummatus in brevi expleverat tempora multa, cui successit filius ejus Adelstanus”). There is, as Professor Stubbs (pp. 1, 13) remarks, some difficulty in reconciling the chronology of the Waltham writer with regard to the Invention of the Cross with the undoubted date of Tofig’s marriage. The Waltham writer places the Invention in the time of Cnut (“regnante Cnuto et Anglis imperante”), that is to say seven years at the least before the time of the marriage, whereas Gytha is represented in c. 13 as already Tofig’s wife and as a benefactress to the church. As Harthacnut died at the wedding, we cannot even suppose, what would otherwise be just possible, that by “Cnutus” we are to understand Harthacnut. The easiest explanation seems to be that gifts made by Gytha in her widowhood have been wrongly transferred to an 794earlier date. I have elsewhere (see vol. ii. Appendix MM) thrown out a hint that this Gytha may possibly be the same as Gytha the wife of Earl Ralph of Hereford.

NOTE YYY. p. 530. Events after the Death of Harthacnut.

The legend to which I have referred in the text has found a place in the text of Thierry (i. 179) and also in that of Mr. St. John (Four Conquests, ii. 127). According to Bromton (934) and Knighton (2326), the English, wearied with the oppressions of the Danes under Harthacnut (see above, p. 758), rose against them after his death, and drove them out by force. Knighton calls the leader of the revolt Howne, and his forces Howneher [Hunanhere]. Thierry makes Godwine the leader instead of Howne. M. de Bonnechose (Quatre Conquêtes, ii. 70–2), though seeing the general absurdity of the story, admits it so far as to accept an expulsion of the housecarls. Saxo (202, 203) has a more wonderful tale than all. He has nothing to say about Howne or about Godwine. Harold, the son of Godwine, is the deliverer (“Danicæ oppressionis simulque domesticæ libertatis auctor”). He causes the Danish forces throughout England to be invited to banquets in different places, so that they are all slain in one night. Of all this there is not a word in any trustworthy writer; the only passage which looks at all like it is a rhetorical expression in the Life of Eadward (“reducto diu afflictis Anglis barbarica servitute redemptionis suæ jubilæo”, p. 394), which however most likely refers only to the extinction of the foreign dynasty and the accession of a native King. Any one who has had any experience of the growth of mythical and romantic tales will soon see what is the origin of this legend. It is plainly nothing in the world but the massacre of Saint Brice moved still further out of its place than it had already been moved by Roger of Wendover (see above, p. 652), and further mixed up with the legend of the death of Ælfred, with which it is connected by both Bromton and Knighton. Knighton’s “Howne” is clearly Roger’s “Huna” over again. Everything in our authentic narrative makes us believe that the election of Eadward was perfectly peaceful. A 795general driving out or massacre of Danes is simply ridiculous; even an expulsion of the housecarls is supported by no kind of evidence. The housecarls of Harthacnut no doubt became the housecarls of Eadward, and the saintly King, if Godwine had not been at hand to restrain him, was as ready to send them against Dover as his half-brother had been to send them against Worcester.

A more marvellous version than all is to be found in the French Life of Eadward, 532–581 (Luard, pp. 40, 41). Here the Danes, after committing the usual atrocities, rebel against Harthacnut, who raises an English army against them, and, after much fighting, overcomes them. Such wild shapes did our history take when it fell into the hands of strangers.

END OF VOLUME THE FIRST.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.

Used numbers for footnotes, placing them all at the end of the last chapter.