The Lives of the III Normans, Kings of England: William the First, William the Second, Henrie the First.
by John Hayward.
THE LIFE OF
KING WILLIAM
THE FIRST,
_Sirnamed Conquerour_.
Robert Duke of _Normandie_, the sixth in descent from _Rollo_, riding through _Falais_ a towne in _Normandie_, espied certaine yong persons dauncing neere the way. And as he stayed to view a while the maner of their disport, he fixed his eye especially vpon a certaine damosell named _Arlotte_; of meane birth, a Skinners daughter, who there daunced among the rest. The frame and comely carriage of her body, the naturall beautie and graces of her countenance, the simplicitie of her rurall both behauiour and attire pleased him so well, that the same night he procured her to be brought to his lodging; where he begate of her a sonne, who afterward was named _William_.
I will not defile my writing with memory of some lasciuious behauiour which she is reported to haue vsed, at such time as the Duke approched to embrace her. And doubtfull it is, whether vpon some speciall note of immodestie in herselfe, or whether vpon hate towards her sonne, the English afterwards adding an aspiration to her name (according to the naturall maner of their p.r.o.nouncing) termed euery vnchast woman _Harlot_.
It is remembred by some, rather seruile then fond in obseruations, who will either finde or frame predictions for euery great action or euent; that his mother before the time of her deliuery had a dreame, that her bowels were extended ouer _Normandie_ and _England_. Also, that at the time of his birth, he fell from his mothers body to the ground; and there filled both his hands with rushes, which had bene cast thicke vpon the floore, and streined them with a very streit gripe. The wiues laughed at large, and soone grew prodigall of idle talke. But the Midwife somewhat more soberly said; That he should not onely hold well his owne, but graspe somewhat from other men.
When he was about 9. yeeres of age, his father went vpon deuotion to _Hierusalem_; and in his returne died at the Citie of _Nice_. So _William_ at that age succeeded his father; hauing then very generous and aspiring spirits, both to resist abroad, and to rule at home. Hee was committed to the gouernment of two of his vnckles; and the French King was entreated by his father to take vpon him the protection, both of his person and State. But his vnckles pretended t.i.tle to his dignitie, by reason of his vnlawfull birth; the King of France also desired much and had often attempted to reduce _Normandie_ to his absolute subiection, as it was before the inuasion of the _Normans_. So as it may seeme he was committed to these Tutors, as a Lambe should be committed to the tutelage of wolues. The onely meanes of his preseruation consisted in a factious n.o.bilitie, deuided into so many parts, as there were parties: Some contending for possession of the yong Dukes person; others, of his authoritie and power; all of them incompatible to endure either equals, or els superiours: All of them vnited against a common enemie; all deuided among themselues.
Here it may be demanded how he being vnlawfully borne, could succeed his father in the dutchie of _Normandie_; his father leauing two brothers borne in lawfull marriage, and much other legitimate kindred behind him.
_Will. Malmesburie_[5] and some others haue reported, that albeit hee was borne out of marriage, yet Duke _Robert_ his father did afterwards entertaine his mother for lawfull wife: which by the Law of that Countrey, agreeable in that point to the Ciuill and Canon Lawes, sufficed to make the issue inheritable, although borne before.
And further, it was a generall custome at that time in France, that b.a.s.t.a.r.ds did succeed, euen in dignities of highest condition, no otherwise then children lawfully begotten. _Thierrie_ b.a.s.t.a.r.d of _Clouis_, had for his partage with the lawfull children of the same _Clouis_, the Kingdome of _Austrasie_, now called _Lorraine_.
_Sigisbert_ b.a.s.t.a.r.d of King _Dagobert_ the first, had his part in the Kingdome of France, with _Clouis_ the 12. lawfull sonne to _Dagobert_.
_Loys_ and _Carloman_ b.a.s.t.a.r.ds of King _Loys le Begue_, succeeded after the death of their father. So likewise in _England_, _Alfride_ b.a.s.t.a.r.d sonne of _Oswine_, succeeded his brother _Egfride_. So _Adelstane_ the b.a.s.t.a.r.d sonne of _Edward_ the elder, succeeded his father, before _Edmund_ and _Eldred_ his yonger brothers; notwithstanding they were lawfully begotten. So _Edmund_, surnamed the _Martyr_, b.a.s.t.a.r.d sonne to King _Edgar_, succeeded him in the state, before _Ethelbred_ his lawfull issue. Afterward, _Harold_ surnamed _Harefoote_, b.a.s.t.a.r.d to _Canutus_, succeeded him in the kingdome, before _Hardicanutus_, his lawfull sonne.
The like custome hath been obserued in _Spaine_, in _Portugale_, and in diuers other countreys. And it is probable that this vse was grounded vpon often experience, that b.a.s.t.a.r.ds (as begotten in the highest heate and strength of affection) haue many times been men of excellent proofe, both in courage and in vnderstanding. This was verified[6] in _Hercules_, _Alexander_ the Great, _Romulus_, _Timotheus_, _Brutus_, _Themistocles_, _Arthur_: in _Homer_, _Demosthenes_, _Bion_, _Bartholus_, _Gratian_, _Peter Lumbard_, _Peter Comestor_, _Io.
Andreas_, and diuers of most flourishing name: among whom our _Conquerour_ may worthily be ranged.
And yet in the third race of the Kings of _France_ a law was made, that b.a.s.t.a.r.ds should not inherite the Crowne of the Realme. This custome was likewise banished out of _England_, and other countreys of _Europe_.
Notwithstanding in _France_, other b.a.s.t.a.r.ds of great houses were still aduowed.
The exercises of this Duke from his verie youth were ingenuous, manly, decent, & such as tended to actiuitie and valure: Hee was of a working minde and vehement spirit, rather ambitious then onely desirous of glory: of a piercing wit, blind in no mans cause, and well sighted in his owne: of a liuely and present courage; neither out of ignorance, or rash estimation of dangers, but out of a true iudgement both of himselfe and of them. In peace he was politicke: In warre valiant and very skilfull, both to espie, and to apprehend, and to follow his aduantages: this valure and skill in militarie affayres, was alwayes seconded with good successe. He was continually accustomed both to the weight and vse of armour, from his very childhood. Oftentimes hee looked death in the face with a braue contempt. He was neuer free from actions of armes; first vpon necessity to defend himselfe, afterwards vpon ambition to offend and disturbe the possessions of others.
In his first age he was much infested with rebels in _Normandie_; who often conspired both against his life, and against his dignitie and State; traducing him, as a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, as a boy, as borne of a base ign.o.ble woman, as altogether vnworthy to be their Prince. Of these, some he appeased and reconciled vnto him: others he preuented, and dispersed their power before it was collected: others hee encountred in open field, before he had any haire vpon his face; where hee defeated their forces in full battell, then tooke their strongholds, and lastly chased them out of his dominion.
And first _Roger Tresnye_, hauing gained exceeding great both fauour and reputation by his seruices against the _Sarasins_ in _Spaine_, made claime to the duchie of _Normandie_; as one lawfully descended from _Rollo_ their first Duke. And albeit many others were before him in t.i.tle, yet (said he) if they will sit still; if they, either through sloath, which is ill, or through feare, which is worse, will abandone the aduenture, he alone would free the _Normans_ from their infamous subiection. He was followed by many, partly vpon opinion of his right, but chiefly of his valour. But when he brought his cause to the arbitrement of Armes, hee was ouerthrowne in a strong battaile, wherein his claime and his life determined together.
After this, _William_ Earle of _Arques_, sonne to _Richard_ the second, and vnckle to Duke _William_, vpon the same pretence declared himselfe against his nephew. And albeit the _Normans_ were heauie to stirre in his fauour, yet hee so wrought with the French King, by a.s.suring him great matters in _Normandie_; that with a mightie armie of his owne people, hee went in person, to place him in possession of that dutchy.
The way which the King tooke, led him to a large valley, sandie and full of short bushes and shrubs; troublesome for hors.e.m.e.n either to fight or to march. On either side were rising hils, very thicke set with wood.
Here the Armie entred with small aduis.e.m.e.nt, either for clearing the pa.s.sage, or for the safetie of their carriages. The Vaward consisted chiefly of battle-axes and pikes. In the right wing were many _Almans_ among the _French_. In the left were many of _Aniou_ and _Poictou_.
After these followed the baggage, with an infinite number of scullians, carters and other base drudges attending vpon it. Next came the French King with the maine battaile, consisting for the most part of valiant and worthy Gentlemen, brauely mounted. The lances and men at Armes cloased the Rereward.
When they were well entred this valley, the _Normans_ did liuely charge vpon them in head; they deliuered also their deadly shot from the hils on both sides, as thicke as haile. Notwithstanding the Vantgard, casting themselues into a pointed battaile in forme of a wedge, with plaine force of hand made themselues way; and marching in firme and close order through the thickest of their enemies, gained (albeit not without great losse) the top of a hill, and there presently encamped themselues. The like fortune happily might the residue haue had, if they had followed with the like order and courage. But failing herein, the right wing was hewed in pieces: the left wing was broken and beaten vpon the carriages; where ouerbearing and treading downe one an other, they receiued almost as much hurt from themselues, as they did from their enemies. The maine battaile and Rereward aduancing forward to rescue the carriage, were first miserably ouerwhelmed with a storme of arrowes from the hill on both sides: and the gallant horses once galled with that shot, would no more obey or endure their riders; but flinging out, either ouerthrew or disordred all in their way. And the more to encrease the miserie of that day, the dull and light sand which was raised, partly by the feete of horses and men, and partly by violence of the wind, which then blew full in the faces of the _French_, inuolued them all as in a thicke and darke cloud; which depriued them of all foresight and direction in gouerning their affaires. The valiant was nothing discerned from the coward, no difference could be set betweene contriuance and chance: All laboured in one common calamitie, and euery one encreased the feare of his fellow.
The _Normans_ hauing well spent their shot, and perceiuing the _French_ in this sort both disordered and dismayed, came downe from the hils where they houered before; and falling to the close stroke of battaile-axe and sword, most cruelly raged in the blood of their enemies. By whom if any sparke of valour was shewen, being at so great disaduantage, it was to no purpose, it was altogether lost; it was so farre from relieuing others, that it was not sufficient to defend themselues. And doubtlesse no thing so much fauoured the state of the _French_ that day, as that the number of the _Normans_ sufficed not to enclose them behind. For then they had bene entrapped as Deere in a toile; then not one of them could haue escaped. But the entrance of the valley remayning open, many fled backe to the plaine ground; tumbling together in such headlong hast, that if the _Normans_ had sharply put vpon them the chase, it is certaine that they had bene extreemely defeated. But the Duke gaue ouer the execution vpon good aduise. For knowing himselfe not to be of force vtterly to vanquish the _French_, he a.s.sayed rather by faire forbearance to purchase their friendship.
Here the French king a.s.sembled his broken companies, and encamped them for that night so well as he could. The ioy of their present escape expelled for the time all other respects. But after a little breathing, their remembrance began to runne vpon the losse of their cariages; whereby they had lost all meanes to refresh themselues. Of their Vaward they made a forelorne reckoning, and the like did the Vaward of them.
Many were wounded, all wearied; and the _Normans_ gaue notice by sounding out their instruments of warre, that they were at hand on euery side. The rudest of the Souldiers did boldly vpbraid this infortunitie to the King; one asked him where his Vaward was, where were his wings, where were the residue of his battell, and Rereward. Others called for the cariages, to preserue those in life who had not been slaine. Others demanded if he had any more mouse-traps to leade them into. But most sate heauy and pensiue, scarce accounting themselues among the liuing.
The King swallowed downe all with a sad silence, sometimes he dissembled as though he had not heard; sometimes hee would fairely answere; _Good words, good souldiers; haue patience a while, and all will be well_: which was indeede a truer word then he thought it possible to bee when he spake it.
In this extremity the King a.s.sembled the chiefe of his commanders, to aduise with them what was best to be done. It was generally concluded, that in staying their case was desperate; and dangerous it was to stirre. But here lay the question; whether it was least dangerous to remoue together, or euery man to shift for himselfe. Whilest this point was in debating, whilest they expected euery minute to be a.s.sailed, whilest no man saw any thing but death and despaire; behold, a messenger came from the Duke, not to offer but to desire peace; and to craue protection of the French king, according to the trust which _Robert_ the Dukes father reposed in him. There needed not many words to perswade.
Peace was signed, protection a.s.sured, in a more ample maner then it was required. Then the messenger with many good words appeased the Kings heauinesse, telling him, that his Vaward was safe, his cariages not touched, and that he should be furnished with horses both for burthen and draught, in stead of those that had been slaine. These words, as a sweete enchantment, rauished the _French_ King with sudden ioy. But when they came to gather vp their baggage, a spectacle both lamentable and loathsome was presented vnto them. The valley couered, and in some places heaped with dead bodies of men and horses: many not once touched with any weapon, lay troden to death, or else stifled with dust and sand: many grieuously wounded, reteined some remainder of life, which they expressed with cries and groanes: many not mortally hurt, were so ouerlaid with the slaine, that they were vnable to free themselues: towards whom it is memorable, what manly both pitie and helpe the _Normans_ did affoord. And so the _French_ King more by courtesie of his enemies, then either by courage or discretion of his owne, returned in reasonable state to _Paris_.
Vpon these euents of open hostilitie, _Guy_ Earle of _Burgogne_, who had taken to wife _Alix_, daughter to Duke _Richard_ the second, and Aunt to Duke _William_, conspired with _Nicellus_ president of _Constantine_, _Ranulph_ Vicecount of _Bayon_, _Baimond_, and diuers others, suddenly to surprise the Duke, and slay him in the night. A certaine foole, (nothing regarded for his want of wit) obseruing their preparations, secretly got away, and in the dead of the night came to _Valogne_, where the Duke then lay; no lesse slenderly guarded with men, then the place it selfe was sleight for defence. Here he continued rapping at the gate, and crying out, vntill it was opened, and hee brought to the presence of the Duke. To whom he declared the conspiracie, with circ.u.mstances of such moment, that the Duke foorthwith tooke his horse, and posted alone towards _Falais_, an especial place for strength for defence. Presently after his departure the conspirators came to _Valogne_, they beset the house, they enter by force, they search euery corner for the Duke: And finding that the game was start, and on foote, in hote haste they pursued the chase.
About breake of day the Dukes horse tired, and he was ignorant of his right way. He was then at a little village called _Rie_, where the chiefe Gentleman of the place was standing at his doore ready to goe abroad. Of him the Duke enquired the next way to _Falais_. The Gentleman knew the Duke, and with all duetie and respect desired to know the cause of his both solitarie and vntimely riding. The Duke would willingly haue pa.s.sed vnknowne; but perceiuing himselfe to be discouered, declared to him the whole aduenture. Hereupon the Gentleman furnished him with a fresh horse, and sent with him two of his sonnes to conduct him the direct way to _Falais_.
No sooner were they out of sight, but the conspirators came, and enquired of the same Gentleman (who still remained at his doore) whether he saw not the Duke that morning: as if, forsooth, they were come to attend him. The Gentleman answered, that he was gone a little before, and therewith offered them his company to ouertake him. But he lead them about another way, vntill the Duke was safely alighted at _Falais_. And thus the more we consider these and the like pa.s.sages of affaires, the lesse we shall admire either the wisdome, or industry, or any other sufficiencie of man. In actions of weight it is good to employ our best endeuours; but when all is done, he danceth well to whom Fortune doeth pipe.
When the conspirators vnderstood that their princ.i.p.all purpose was disappointed, they made themselues so powerfull in the field, that the Duke was enforced to craue ayde of the King of _France_; who not long before was his greatest enemie. The King preferring to his remembrance the late honourable dealing of the Duke, came in person vnto him; by whose countenance and aide the Duke ouerthrew his enemies in a full battell, in the vale of _Dunes_: albeit not without great difficultie, and bold aduenture of his owne person. _Guy de Burgogne_ escaped by flight, and defended himselfe in certaine castles which he had fortified in _Normandie_ for his retreite; but in the end hee rendred both himselfe and them to the Dukes discretion. The Duke not onely pardoned him, but honoured him with a liberall pension; which he did afterward both with valiant and loyall seruice requite.
Not long after, the French King had wars against _Ieoffrey Martell_, and Duke _William_ went with a faire companie of Souldiers to his ayde. In this seruice he so wel acquited himselfe, both in iudgement and with hand, that the French King was chiefly directed by him; onely blaming him for too carelesse casting himselfe into the mouth of dangers; imputing that to ostentation, which was but the heate of his courage and age. Oftentimes hee would range from the maine battell with very fewe in his company; either to make discoueries, or to encounter such enemies as could not bee found with greater troupes. Once hee withdrew himselfe onely with foure, and was met with by fifteene of the enemies. The most forward of them he strake from his horse, and brake his thigh with the fall. The residue hee chased foure miles; and most of them being hurt, tooke seuen prisoners. Hereupon _Ieoffrey Martell_ then said of him; that he was at that time the best souldier, and was like to prooue the best commander in the world.
And as hee was both fauourable and faithfull towards them who fairely yeelded, so against such as either obstinately or scornefully caried themselues, he was extreamely seuere, or rather cruell. When hee besieged _Alencon_, which the Duke of _Aniou_ had taken from him, the defendants would often crie from the walles, _La pel, La pel_; reproaching him thereby with the birth of his mother. This base insolencie, as it enflamed both his desire and courage to atchieue the enterprise, so did it his fury, to deale sharpely with them when they were subdued; by cutting off their hands and feete; and by other seuerities which were not vsuall.
Besides these, some others of his owne blood prouoked _Engelrame_ Earle of _Ponthieu_ to moue against him in armes: but the Duke receiued him with so resolute valour, that the Earle was slaine in the field, and they well chastised who drew him to the enterprise. The _Britaines_ did often feele the force of his victorious armes. Hee had many conflicts with _Ieoffrey Martell_ Earle of _Aniou_, confederate with the Princes of _Britane_, _Aquitaine_, and _Tours_; a man equall vnto him both in power and in skill to command, but in fortune and in force of arme much inferiour. Many excellent atchieuements were performed betweene them; insomuch as their hostilitie seemed onely to bee an emulation in honour.
Once the Duke fell into an ambushment addressed for him by the Earle of _Aniou_; wherewith he was so suddenly surprized, that he was almost in the midst of the danger before he thought any danger neere him. An exceeding great both terrour and confusion seazed vpon his souldiers; because the more sudden and vncertaine a perill is, the greater is it alwayes esteemed. Many of his brauest men were slaine; the residue so disordered, or at least shaken, as they began to thinke more of their particular escape, then of the common either safety or glory.
When they were thus vpon the point to disband, the Duke rather with rage then courage cried vnto them, _If you loue me not Souldiers, yet for shame follow me; for shame stand by mee; for shame let not any of your friends heare the report, that you ran from mee and left me fighting._ With that he threw himselfe into the thickest throng of his enimies, and denounced those either traitours or cowards who would not follow. This example breathed such braue life into his Souldiers, that they rallied their loose rankes, and in close order seconded him with a resolute charge: encouraging one another, that it was shameful indeede not to fight for him, who so manfully did fight with them. The Duke brandishing his sword like a thunderbolt, dung downe his enemies on euery side; made at Earle _Martell_ in the midst of his battallion, strake him downe, claue his helmet, and cut away one of his eares. This so diuerted the _Aniouans_ to the rescue of their Earle, that they let the other part of the victorie goe. The Earle they recouered againe to horse, and so left the Duke master of the field. Verely, it is almost impossible, that a commander of such courage should haue, either faint or false hearted Souldiers.
Now it happened not long before, that _Fulc_ Earle of _Aniou_ hauing drawen _Herbert_ Earle of _Maine_ vnder faire pretenses to _Xantonge_, cast him in prison, from whence he could not be released vntill he had yeelded to certaine conditions, both dishonourable and disaduantageable vnto him. _Hugh_ succeded _Herbert_; from whom _Ieoffrey Martell_ Earle of _Aniou_ tooke the citie of _Maine_, and made himselfe lord of all the countrey. _Hugh_ hauing lost his dominion, left both his t.i.tle and his quarrell to his sonne _Herbert_: who hauing no issue, appointed Duke _William_ to bee his heire. Hereupon the Duke inuaded _Maine_, and in short time subdued the whole countrey, and built two fortifications for a.s.surance thereof; hauing first sent word to the Earle of _Aniou_, vpon what day the worke should begin. The Earle vsed all diligence and means to impeach the buildings; but hee not onely failed of that purpose, but further lost the countie of _Medune_.
Againe, _Henry_ King of _France_ did many other times with great preparation inuade his Countrey; sometimes with purpose to winne vpon him, and sometimes to keepe him from winning vpon others. Vpon a time the King led his troupes ouer the foord of _Dine_; and when halfe his army had pa.s.sed, the other halfe by reason of the rising of the Sea, was compelled to stay. The Duke apprehending the aduantage, came vpon them with a furious charge, being now deuided from the chiefe of the Armie; and either slew them or tooke them prisoners, in the plaine view of their King. After this they concluded a peace, whereof the conditions were, That the Duke should release such prisoners as he had taken; and that hee should retaine whatsoeuer he had wonne, or afterwards should winne from the Earle of _Aniou_. And yet the King did againe enterprise vpon him, with greater forces then at any time before: But the Duke entertained his Armies with so good order and valoure, that the King gained nothing but losse and dishonour: and the greater his desire was of victorie and reuenge, the more foule did his foiles and failings appeare; which so brake both his courage and heart, that with griefe thereof (as it was conceiued) hee ended his life. And thus during all the time that he was onely Duke of _Normandy_, he was neuer free from action of armes: in all his actions of armes hee was caried with a most rare and perpetuall felicitie.
As he grew in yeeres, so did he in thicknesse and fatnesse of body: but so, as it made him neither vnseemely, nor vnseruiceable for the warres; and neuer much exceeding the measure of a comely corpulencie. He was most decent, and therewith terrible in armes. He was stately and maiesticall in his gesture; of a good stature, but in strength admirable: in so much as no man was able to draw his bow, which hee would bend sitting vpon his horse, stretching out the string with his foot. His countenance was warlike and manly as his friends might terme it; but as his enemies said, truculent and fierce. He would often sweare _By G.o.ds resurrection and his brightnesse_: which he commonly p.r.o.nounced with so furious a face, that hee strooke a terrour into those that were present. His head was bald; his beard alwayes shauen; which fashion being first taken vp by him, was then followed by all the _Normans_. Hee was of a firme and strong const.i.tution for his health; so as he neuer was attached with sicknesse, but that which was the summons of his death: and in his age seemed little to feele the heauie weight and burthen of yeeres.
In his first age he was of a mild and gentle disposition; courteous, bountifull, familiar in conuersation, a professed enemie to all vices.
But as in Fortune, as in yeres, so changed he in his behauiour; partly by his continuall following the warres (whereby he was much fleshed in blood) and partly by the inconstant nature of the people ouer whom he ruled: who by often rebellions did not onely exasperate him to some seueritie, but euen constraine him to hold them in with a more stiffe arme. So hee did wring from his subiects very much substance, very much blood; not for that he was by nature either couetous or cruell, but for that his affaires could not otherwise be managed. His great affaires could not be managed without great expence, which drew a necessity of charge vpon the people: neither could the often rebellions of his Subiects be repressed or restrained by any mild and moderate meanes. And generally as in all States and gouernments, seuere discipline hath alwayes bin a true faithfull mother of vertue and valour; so in particular of his _Normans_ he learned by experience, and oftentimes declared this iudgement: That if they were held in bridle, they were most valiant, and almost inuincible; excelling all men both in courage, and in strength, and in honourable desire to vanquish their enemies. But if the reines were layd loose vpon their necke, they were apt to runne into licentiousnes and mischiefe; ready to consume either themselues by riot and sloath, or one another by sedition: p.r.o.ne to innouation and change; as heauily mooued to vndertake dangers, so not to bee trusted vpon occasion.
He tooke to wife _Matilde_ daughter to _Baldwin_ Earle of _Flanders_, a man for his wisedome and power, both reuerenced and feared euen of Kings; but because she was his cousin Germane, he was for his marriage excommunicate by his owne vnckle _Mauger_ Archbishop of _Roan_. Hereupon he sued to Pope _Victor_, and obteined of him a dispensation: and afterwards so wrought, that by a prouinciall Councell his vncle _Mauger_ was depriued of his dignitie. But by this meanes both he & his issue were firmely locked in obedience to the Sea of _Rome_; for that vpon the authoritie of that place the validitie of his marriage, and consequently the legitimation of his issue seemed to depend.
When he was about 50. yeeres of age, _Edward_ King of _England_ ended his life. This _Edward_ was sonne to _Egelred_ King of _England_, by _Emma_, sister to _Richard_ the second Duke of _Normandie_, who was grandfather to Duke _William_: so as King _Edward_ and Duke _William_ were cousins germane once remoued.[7]
At such time as _Egelred_ was first ouercharged with warres by the _Danes_, he sent his wife _Emma_, with two sonnes which she had borne vnto him, _Alphred_ and _Edward_, into _Normandie_ to her brother; where they were enterteined with all honourable vsage for many yeeres.
Afterward giuing place to the malice of his Fortune, he pa.s.sed also into _Normandie_, and left his whole state in the possession and power of _Swa.n.u.s_ King of _Denmarke_. But after the death of _Swa.n.u.s_, partly by the aide of the _Normans_, and partly by fauour of his owne people, he recouered his Kingdome, and left the same to his eldest sonne _Edmund_, who either for the tough temper of his courage and strength, or for that he almost alwayes liued in Armes, was surnamed _Ironside_.
Hereupon _Canutus_ the sonne of _Swa.n.u.s_ made sharpe warre, first against _Egelred_, then against _Edmund_: and finally after many varieties of aduenture, but chiefly by the fauour of the Clergie of _England_ (because they had sworne allegiance to his father) spread the wings of his victory ouer the whole Kingdome. He expelled out of the Realme _Edwine_ and _Edward_ the two sonnes of King _Edmund_: of whom _Edwine_ married the Kings daughter of _Hungarie_, but died without issue; _Edward_ was aduanced to the marriage of _Agatha_, daughter to the Emperour _Henry_, and by her had issue two sonnes, _Edmund_ & _Edgar_, and so many daughters, _Margaret_ and _Christine_. The same _Canutus_ tooke _Emma_ to wife, who had bene wife to King _Egelred_; by whom he had a sonne named _Hardicanutus_.
After the death of _Canutus_, _Alphred_ the sonne of _Egelred_ came out of _Normandie_, and with fiftie saile landed at _Sandwich_: with purpose to attempt the recouerie of his fathers kingdome. In which enterprise hee receiued not onely encouragement, but good a.s.surance from many of the _English_ n.o.bilitie. But by Earle _Goodwine_ he was abused and taken; his company slaine, his eyes put out, and then sent to the Ile of _Elie_, where in short time hee ended his life. _Edward_ also arriued at _Hampton_ with 40. ships, but finding the Countrey so farre from receiuing, as they were ready to resist him, he returned into _Normandie_, and attended the further fauour of time. So after _Canutus_ succeeded in _England_, first _Harold_ sirnamed _Harefoot_, b.a.s.t.a.r.d sonne to _Canutus_; and after him _Hardicanutus_, sonne to _Canutus_ by _Emma_, mother also to King _Edward_.
_Hardicanutus_ being dead, the n.o.bilitie of the Realme sent into _Normandie_ for _Edward_ to be their King; whereto also he was appointed as some haue written by _Hardicanutus_. But because _Alphred_ his brother vpon the like inuitation had bene traiterously taken and slaine before, _William_ at that time Duke of _Normandie_ would not permit him to depart, vntill he had receiued for pledges of his safety, _Woolnoth_ son to Earle _Goodwine_, and _Hacon_ sonne to _Swaine_, Earle _Goodwins_ eldest sonne. Vpon this a.s.surance he was furnished by the duke his cousin, with all meanes fit both for his enterprise and estate. And so hee pa.s.sed the Seas, arriued in _England_, and with generall ioy was receiued for King. He tooke to wife _Edith_ the daughter of Earle _Goodwine_; but whether vpon vow of chast.i.tie, or whether vpon impotencie of nature, or whether vpon hatred to her father, or whether vpon suspition against herselfe (for all these causes are alleaged by seuerall writers of those times) he forbore all priuate familiaritie with her.
When he was well locked into the chaire of State, Duke _William_ came out of _Normandie_ to see him, to shew his magnificence to the _English_ people; to shew to the _English_, both that he loued their King, and that he was of power to relieue him, in case his necessities should so require. Here, besides honourable enterteinement, besides many rich gifts both to himselfe and to his followers, the King hauing neither hope nor desire of issue, promised him, in regard of his great fauours and deserts, that hee should be his next successour in the Kingdome. And for further a.s.surance thereof, sent him also the like message into _Normandie_, by _Robert_ Archbishop of _Canterburie_.
After this _Harold_ sonne to Earle _Goodwine_ pa.s.sed the Seas into _Normandie_, to deale for the discharge of his brother _Wolnoth_ and _Hacon_ his nephew, who had bene deliuered for hostages to the Duke. In his pa.s.sage he was much tossed with troublesome weather, and in the end was cast vpon the coast of _Ponthieu_, and there taken by the Earle and committed to prison. But at the request of the Duke of _Normandie_, hee was released with honourable respect, and by the Earle himselfe accompanied to the Duke; who enterteined him with great magnificence at _Roan_. The Duke was then going in Armes against the _Britaines_; in which iourney _Harold_ did accompany him, and shewed himselfe a man, neither rash in vndertaking, nor fearefull in perfourming any seruices of the field. After prosperous returne, the Duke declared to _Harold_, the purpose of King _Edward_ concerning the Dukes succession to this Crowne. _Harold_ did auow the same to be true; and promised to affoord thereto the best furtherance that he could. Hereupon the Duke a.s.sembled a Councell at _Boneuill_; where _Harold_ did sweare fidelitie vnto him: and promised likewise by oath, that after the death of King _Edward_, he would keepe the Realme of _England_ to the vse of the Duke: that he would deliuer vnto him the castle of _Douer_, and certaine other pieces of defence, furnished at his owne charge. Hereupon the Duke promised vnto him his daughter in marriage, and with her halfe the Realme of _England_ in name of her dower. He also deliuered to him his nephew _Hacon_; but kept his brother _Wolnoth_ as an hostage, for performance of that which _Harold_ had sworne.