APPENDIX. (continued 4)

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. 640There 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 641had 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,

(Quid Domini facient, audent qui talia servi?)

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 642bestowed 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), 643distinguished 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.

644

NOTE GG. p. 467. Ælfwig Abbot of New Minster.

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 645meant 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.

646

NOTE HH. p. 482. The Revolt of Northumberland.

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 647it 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 648might 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 649oppidoque 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 650out 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 651Danois 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.

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.