The Lives of the III. Normans, Kings of England: William the First, William the Second, Henrie the First
by Sir John Hayward · English · Gutenberg #38513 · 391,177 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: The Lives of the III. Normans, Kings of England: William the First, William the Second, Henrie the First
Author: Sir John Hayward
Release date: January 7, 2012 [eBook #38513]
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/38513
Credits: E-text prepared by Mark C. Orton, Steven Gibbs, Rory OConor,
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIVES OF THE III. NORMANS, KINGS OF ENGLAND: WILLIAM THE FIRST, WILLIAM THE SECOND, HENRIE THE FIRST ***
E-text prepared by Mark C. Orton, Steven Gibbs, Rory OConor, and the
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Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed between curly brackets was Greek in the original
and has been transliterated into Latin characters.
[Illustration]
THE LIVES OF
THE III. NORMANS,
_KINGS OF_
ENGLAND:
WILLIAM the first.
WILLIAM the second.
HENRIE the first.
Written by I. H.
MART. _Improbe facit qui in alieno libro ingeniosus est._
[Illustration]
IMPRINTED AT
LONDON BY _R.B._
_ANNO 1613._
[Illustration]
TO THE HIGH
AND MIGHTIE
PRINCE
_CHARLES_
_Prince of Wales._
MOST _Illustrious_ PRINCE:
Ovr late, too late borne, or too soone _dying Prince, HENRY of famous
memorie, your deceased brother, sent for mee, a few monethes before his
death. And at my second comming to his presence, among some other
speeches, hee complained much of our Histories of England; and that the
English Nation, which is inferiour to none in Honourable actions, should
be surpassed by all, in leauing the memorie of them to posteritie. For
this cause hee blamed the negligence of former ages: as if they were
ignorant of their owne deseruings, as if they esteemed themselues
vnworthie of their worth._
_I answered, that I conceiued these causes hereof; One, that men of
sufficiencie were otherwise employed; either in publicke affaires, or in
wrestling with the world, for maintenance or encrease of their priuate
estates. Another is, for that men might safely write of others in a
tale, but in maner of a History, safely they could not: because, albeit
they should write of men long since dead, and whose posteritie is cleane
worne out; yet some aliue, finding themselues foule in those vices,
which they see obserued, reproued, condemned in others; their
guiltinesse maketh them apt to conceiue, that whatsoeuer the words are,
the finger pointeth onely at them. The last is, for that the Argument of
our English historie hath bene so soiled heretofore by some vnworthie
writers, that men of qualitie may esteeme themselues discredited by
dealing in it._
_And is not this (said he) an errour in vs, to permit euery man to be a
writer of Historie? Is it not an errour to be so curious in other
matters, and so carelesse in this? We make choise of the most skilfull
workemen to draw or carue the portraiture of our faces, and shall euery
artlesse Pensell delineate the disposition of our minds? Our apparell
must be wrought by the best Artificers, and no soile must be suffered to
fall vpon it: and shall our actions, shall our conditions be described
by euery bungling hand? Shall euery filthie finger defile our
reputation? Shall our Honour be basely buried in the drosse of rude and
absurd writings? Wee are carefull to prouide costly Sepulchers, to
preserue our dead liues, to preserue some memorie what wee haue bene:
but there is no monument, either so durable, or so largely extending, or
so liuely and faire, as that which is framed by a fortunate penne; the
memory of the greatest Monuments had long since perished, had it not
bene preserued by this meanes._
_To this I added; that I did alwayes conceiue, that we should make our
reckoning of three sorts of life: the short life of nature, the long
life of fame, and the eternall life of glorie. The life of glorie is so
farre esteemed before the other two, as grace is predominant in vs: the
life of fame before our naturall life is so farre esteemed, as a
generous spirit surmounteth sensualitie; as humane nature ouerruleth
brutish disposition. So farre as the noble nature of man hath dominion
in our minds, so farre do we contemne, either the incommodities, or
dangers, or life of our body, in regard of our reputation and fame. Now
seeing this life of fame is both preserued and enlarged chiefly by
history; there is no man (I suppose) that will either resist, or not
assist, the commendable or at least tolerable writing thereof, but such
as are conscious to themselues, either that no good, or that nothing but
ill, can bee reported of them. In whom notwithstanding it is an errour
to thinke, that any power of the present time, can either extinguish or
obscure the memorie of times succeeding. Posteritie will giue to euery
man his due: Some ages hereafter will affoord those, who will report
vnpartially of all._
_Then he questioned whether I had wrote any part of our English
Historie, other then that which had been published; which at that time
he had in his hands. I answered, that I had wrote of certaine of our
English Kings, by way of a briefe description of their liues: but for
historie, I did principally bend, and binde my selfe to the times
wherein I should liue; in which my owne obseruations might somewhat
direct me: but as well in the one as in the other I had at that time
perfected nothing._
_To this he said; that in regard of the honour of the time, hee liked
well of the last; but for his owne instruction, he more desired the
first: that he desired nothing more then to know the actions of his
Auncestours; because hee did so farre esteeme his descent from them, as
he approached neere them in honourable endeauours. Hereupon, beautifying
his face with a sober smile, he desired mee, that against his returne
from the progresse then at hand, I would perfect somewhat of both sorts
for him, which he promised amply to requite; and was well knowen to be
one who esteemed his word aboue ordinary respects. This stirred in mee,
not onely a will, but power to perfourme; so as engaging my duety farre
aboue the measure either of my leisure or of my strength, I finished the
liues of these three Kings of Norman race, and certaine yeeres of Queene
ELIZABETHS Reigne._
_At his returne from the Progresse to his house at S. Iames, these
pieces were deliuered vnto him; which hee did not onely courteously, but
ioyfully accept. And because this seemed a perfect worke, he expressed a
desire that it should be published. Not long after he died; and with him
died both my endeauours and my hopes. His death, alasse! hath bound the
liues of many vnto death, face to face; being no wayes able, either by
forgetfulnesse to couer their griefe, or to diminish it with
consideration._
_For in trueth he was a Prince of a most Heroical heart: Free from many
vices which sometimes accompanie high estates, full of most amiable and
admirable vertues: of whose perfections the world was not worthy. His
eyes were full of pleasant modestie; his countenance manly beautifull;
in bodie both strongly and delicately made; in behauiour sweetely sober,
which gaue grace to whatsoeuer he did. He was of a discerning wit; and
for the facultie of his mind, of great capacitie and power, accompanied
with equall expedition of will: much foreseeing in his actions, and for
passions a commander of himselfe; and of good strength to resist the
power of prosperitie. In counsaile he was ripe and measured, in
resolution constant, his word euer led by his thought, and followed by
his deede. And albeit hee was but yong and his nature forward and free,
yet his wisedome reduced both to a true temper of moderation; his
desires being neuer aboue his reason, nor his hopes inferiour to his
desires. In a word, hee was the most faire fruit of his Progenitours, an
excellent ornament of the present age, a true mirrour to posteritie:
being so equally both setled to valour, and disposed to goodnesse and
Iustice, as hee expressed not onely tokens, but proofes, both of a
courage, and of a grauitie and industrie right worthie of his estate._
_Glorious Prince, my loue and duety hath caried me further, then happily
is fit for the present purpose: and yet this is but an earnest onely of
my earnest affection and zeale to thy Honour. I shall hereafter haue a
more proper place to display at large, the goodlinesse of thy shape, the
goodnesse of thy nature, the greatnesse of thy minde: all thy
perfections, whereby our affections were much enflamed. And euillworthy
may he be of any happy hopes, who will not adde one blast of his breath,
to make vp the glorious gale of thy fame._
_In the meane time I haue here accomplished his desire in publishing
this worke: More to testifie to the world the height of his heart, then
for any pleasure I haue to set foorth any thing, to the view of these
both captious and vnthankefull times; wherein men will be, not readers
onely, but interpreters, but wresters, but corrupters and deprauers of
that which they reade; wherein men thinke the reproofe of others, to be
the greatest parcell of their owne praise. But how should I expect any
better vsage? The Commentaries of Caesar, neuer disliked before, are
esteemed by Lypsius, a dry saplesse piece of writing. The most famous
Tacitus is tearmed by Alceate, [1]a thicket of thornes; by Budaeus, [2]a
most lewd Writer; by Tertullian, [3]an exceeding lyar; by Orosius, [4]a
flatterer; then which assuredly he is nothing lesse. I will not expect
any better vsage, I will not desire it; I will hereafter esteeme nothing
of any worth, which hath not many to detract from it._
_Whatsoeuer this is, I haue presumed to present it to your Highnesse,
for these causes following: First, for that it receiued this being from
him, who was most dearely esteemed by you; who may be iustly proposed,
as an example of vertue, as a guide to glory and fame. Secondly, for
that the persons of whom it treateth, are those most worthy Ancestors of
yours, who laid the foundation of this English Empire; who were eminent
among all the Princes of their times, and happely for many ages after,
as well in actions of Peace as of Warre. Lastly, for that I esteeme
Histories the fittest subiect for your Highnesse reading: For by
diligent perusing the actes of great men, by considering all the
circumstances of them, by comparing Counsailes and meanes with euents; a
man may seeme to haue liued in all ages, to haue beene present at all
enterprises; to be more strongly confirmed in Iudgement, to haue
attained a greater experience, then the longest life can possibly
affoord._
_But because many errours doe vsually arise, by ignorance of the State
wherein we liue; because it is dangerous to frame rules of Policie out
of Countreys differing from vs, both in nature, and custome of life, and
forme of gouernment; no Histories are so profitable as our owne. In
these your Highnesse may see, the noble disposition and delights of your
Ancestors; what were their sweete walkes, what their pleasant Chases:
how farre they preferred glory, before either pleasure or safetie; how
by the braue behauiour of their sword, they hewed honour out of the
sides of their enemies. In these you may see, the largenesse,
commodities, and strength of this Countrey; the nature of the people,
their wealth, pleasure, exercise and trade of life, and what else is
worthy of obseruation. Generally, by these you may so furnish your
selfe, as not easily to be abused either by weake or deceitfull aduise._
_The Most High preserue and prosper your Highnesse: that as you succeed
many excellent Ancestours in blood, so you may exceed them all in
Honourable atchieuements._
Your Highnesse
most deuoted,
I. HAYWARD.
[Illustration]
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 pronouncing) 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 title 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 Nobilitie, 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
bastards did succeed, euen in dignities of highest condition, no
otherwise then children lawfully begotten. _Thierrie_ bastard of
_Clouis_, had for his partage with the lawfull children of the same
_Clouis_, the Kingdome of _Austrasie_, now called _Lorraine_.
_Sigisbert_ bastard of King _Dagobert_ the first, had his part in the
Kingdome of France, with _Clouis_ the 12. lawfull sonne to _Dagobert_.
_Loys_ and _Carloman_ bastards of King _Loys le Begue_, succeeded after
the death of their father. So likewise in _England_, _Alfride_ bastard
sonne of _Oswine_, succeeded his brother _Egfride_. So _Adelstane_ the
bastard 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_, Bastard sonne to
King _Edgar_, succeeded him in the state, before _Ethelbred_ his lawfull
issue. Afterward, _Harold_ surnamed _Harefoote_, bastard 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 bastards (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
bastards 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 bastards 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 bastard, as a boy, as borne of a base ignoble
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
title, 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 assuring 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 horsemen either to fight or
to march. On either side were rising hils, very thicke set with wood.
Here the Armie entred with small aduisement, either for clearing the
passage, 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
assayed rather by faire forbearance to purchase their friendship.
Here the French king assembled 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 assembled 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 assailed,
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 assured, 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
circumstances 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
passed 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 passages 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 principall 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 title 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
assurance 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 passed, 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 Gods resurrection and his brightnesse_: which he commonly pronounced
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 constitution 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: prone 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 passed also into
_Normandie_, and left his whole state in the possession and power of
_Swanus_ King of _Denmarke_. But after the death of _Swanus_, 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 _Swanus_ 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 assurance from many of
the _English_ Nobilitie. 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_, bastard
sonne to _Canutus_; and after him _Hardicanutus_, sonne to _Canutus_ by
_Emma_, mother also to King _Edward_.
_Hardicanutus_ being dead, the Nobilitie 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 assurance he was furnished by the duke his
cousin, with all meanes fit both for his enterprise and estate. And so
hee passed 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 chastitie, 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 assurance thereof, sent him also the like message into
_Normandie_, by _Robert_ Archbishop of _Canterburie_.
After this _Harold_ sonne to Earle _Goodwine_ passed 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 passage 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 assembled
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.
In short time after King _Edward_ died, and _Harold_ being generall
commander of the forces of the Realme, seized vpon the soueraignetie,
and without any accustomed solemnities set the crowne vpon his owne
head. The people were nothing curious to examine titles; but as men
broken with long bondage, did easily entertaine the first pretender. And
yet to _Harold_ they were inclinable enough, as well vpon opinion of his
prowesse, as for that hee endeauoured to winne their fauour, partly by
abating their grieuous paiments, and partly by increasing the wages of
his seruants and Souldiers; generally, by vsing iustice with clemencie
and courtesie towards all. About this time a blasing starre appeared and
continued the space of seuen dayes;[8] which is commonly taken to
portend alteration in States. Of this Comet a certaine Poet, alluding to
the baldnesse of the _Norman_, wrote these verses.
_Caesariem Caesar tibi si natura negauit,
Hanc Willielme tibi stella comata dedit._
Duke _William_ sent diuers Ambassadours to _Harold_; first to demaund
perfourmance of his oath, afterward to mooue him to some moderate
agreement. But ambition, a reasonlesse and restlesse humour, made him
obstinate against all offers or inducements of peace. So they prepared
to buckle in armes; equall both in courage and in ambitious desires,
equall in confidence of their fortune: but _Harold_ was the more
aduenturous, _William_ the more aduised man: _Harold_ was more strong in
Souldiers, _William_ in Alies and friends.
_Harold_ was seated in possession, which in case of a kingdome is
oftentimes with facilitie attained, but retained hardly: _William_
pretended the donation of King _Edward_, and that he was neere vnto him
in blood by the mothers side.
Now there wanted not precedents, both ancient and of later times, that
free kingdomes and principalities, not setled by custome in succession
of blood, haue been transported euen to strangers by way of guift.
_Attalus_ king of _Pergamus_[9] did constitute the people of _Rome_ his
heire; by force wherof they made his kingdome a part of their empire.
_Nicomedes_ King of _Bithynia_[10] made the people of _Rome_ likewise
his heire; whereupon his kingdome was reduced to the forme of a
Prouince. So _Alexander_ King of _Egypt_,[11] gaue _Alexandria_ and the
kingdome of _Egypt_; and so _Ptolemie_ gaue the kingdome of _Cyrene_ to
the same people of _Rome_. _Prasutagus_[12] one of the kings of great
_Britaine_, gaue the kingdome of the _Iceni_ to _Caesar Nero_, and to his
daughters. Yea, in the Imperial state of _Rome_, _Augustus_ designed
_Tiberius_ to be his successour; and by like appointment _Nero_ became
successour to _Claudius_; _Traiane_ to _Nerua_; _Antonius Pius_ to
_Adrian_; and _Antoninus_ the Philosopher to another _Antoninus_. When
the Emperour _Galba_[13] did openly appoint _Piso_ for his successour,
he declared to the people, that the same custome had been obserued by
most approued and ancient Princes. _Iugurth_ being adopted by
_Mycipsa_,[14] succeeded him in the kingdome of _Numidia_; and that by
the iudgement as well of _Mycipsa_ himselfe, as of the Senate and people
of _Rome_.
The holy histories report that _Salomon_[15] gaue twentie cities to
_Hiram_ king of _Tyre_: and if the argument be good from the part to the
whole, he might in like sort haue disposed of all his kingdome. Who
hath not heard of the donation falsly attributed to _Constantine_ the
great, being in trueth the donation of _Lewis_, sirnamed the pious;
whereby he gaue to Pope _Paschal_ the citie of _Rome_, and a large
territorie adioyning vnto it; the instrument of which gift
_Volaterrane_[16] doth recite. So the Ladie _Matild_, daughter to
_Roger_ the most famous Prince of _Cicilie_, and wife to king _Conrade_,
sonne to _Henrie_[17] the 4. Emperour, gaue the Marquisate of _Apulia_
to the Bishop of _Rome_: which when the Emperour _Otho_ the 4. refused
to deliuer, hee was for that cause excommunicate by the Pope. In like
sort the countrey of _Daulphin_[18] was giuen by Prince _Vmbert_ to the
King of _France_, vpon condition, that the eldest sonne of _France_
should afterward be called _Daulphine_. Lastly, the Dukes first
auncestor _Rollo_, receiued the Dukedome of _Normandie_ by donation of
_Charles_ King of _France_: And himselfe held the Countie of _Maine_ by
donation of Earle _Herebert_, as before it is shewed. And by donation of
the King of _Britaine_, _Hengist_ obtained _Kent_; the first kingdome of
the English Saxons in _Britaine_. After which time the Countrey was
neuer long time free from inuasion: first, by the English and Saxons
against the Britaines, afterward by the seuen _Saxon_ kingdomes among
themselues, and then lastly by the _Danes_. By meanes whereof the
kingdome at that time could not bee setled in any certaine forme of
succession by blood, as it hath been since; but was held for the most
part in absolute dominion, and did often passe by transaction or gift:
and he whose sword could cut best, was alwaies adiudged to haue most
right. But of this question more shall hereafter be said, in the
beginning of the life of King _William_ the second.
Touching his propinquity in blood to King _Edward_ by the mothers side,
he enforced it to be a good title: because King _Edward_ not long before
had taken succession from _Hardicanutus_, to whom hee was brother by the
mothers side. And although King _Edward_ was also descended from the
_Saxon_ Kings, yet could not he deriue from them any right: For that
_Edgar_ and his sisters were then aliue, descended from _Edmund
Ironside_, elder brother to King _Edward_. Hee could haue no true right
of succession, but onely from _Hardicanutus_ the _Dane_. So _Pepine_,
when he was possessed of the State of _France_, did openly publish, that
hee was descended of the blood of _Charles_ the Great, by the mothers
side. And albeit the said _Edgar_ was both neerer to King _Edward_ then
the Duke of _Normandie_, and also ioyned to him in blood by the fathers
side; yet was that no sufficient defence for _Harold_. The vsurped
possession of _Harold_[19] could not be defended, by alleaging a better
title of a third person. The iniurie which hee did to _Edgar_, could not
serue him for a title against any other.
These grounds of his pretence, beautified with large amplifications of
the benefits which he had done to King _Edward_, he imparted to the
Bishop of _Rome_; who at time was reputed the arbitrator of
controuersies which did rise betweene princes. And the rather to procure
his fauour, and to gaine the countenance of religion to his cause, hee
promised to hold the kingdome of _England_ of the Apostolike Sea.
Hereupon _Alexander_ then Bishop of _Rome_ allowed his title, and sent
vnto him a white hallowed banner, to aduance vpon the prowe of his ship:
also an _Agnus Dei_ of gold, and one of S. _Peters_ haires, together
with his blessing to begin the enterprise.
But now concerning his further proceedings, concerning his victorious
both entrance and continuance within the Realme of _England_, two points
are worthy to be considered: one, how he being a man of no great either
power or dominion, did so suddenly preuaile against a couragious King,
possessed of a large and puissant State. The other is, how he so secured
his victorie, as not the English, not the Britains, not the Danes, not
any other could dispossesse or much disturbe him & his posteritie, from
enioying the fayre fruits thereof. And if we giue to either of these
their true respects, wee shall find his commendation to consist, not so
much in the first, as in the second: because that was effected chiefly
by force, this by wisedome only; which as it is most proper to man, so
few men doe therein excell. Hee that winneth a State surmounteth onely
outward difficulties; but he that assureth the same, trauaileth as well
against internall weaknes, as external strength. To attaine a Kingdome
is many times a gift of Fortune; but to prouide that it may long time
continue firme, is not onely to oppose against humane forces, but
against the very malice of Fortune, or rather the power and wrath of
time, whereby all things are naturally inclineable to change.
For the first then, besides the secret working and will of God, which is
the cause of all causes; besides the sinnes of the people, for which
(the Prophet saith,) _Kingdomes are transported from one Nation to
another_: King _Edward_ not long before made a manifest way for this
inuasion and change. For although he was _English_ by birth, yet by
reason of his education in _Normandie_, he was altogether become a
_Normane_, both in affection and in behauiour of life. So as in
imitation of him, the _English_ abandoned the ancient vsages of their
Country, and with great affection or affectation rather, conformed
themselues to the fashions of _France_.[20] His chiefe acquaintance and
familiar friends were no other then _Normans_; towards whom being a
milde and soft spirited Prince, he was very bountifull, and almost
immoderate in his fauours. These he enriched with great possessions;
these he honoured with the highest places both of dignitie and charge.
Chiefly he aduanced diuers of them to the best degrees of dignitie in
the Church: by whose fauour Duke _William_ afterward was both animated &
aided in his exploit. Generally as the whole Clergie of _England_
conceiued a hard opinion of _Harold_; for that vpon the same day wherein
King _Edward_ was buried, he set the Crowne vpon his owne head, without
Religious Ceremonies, without any solemnities of Coronation: so they
durst not for feare of the Popes displeasure, but giue either
furtherance or forbearance to the Dukes proceedings; and to abuse the
credite which they had with the people, in working their submission to
the _Normans_. Now of what strength the Clergie was at that time within
the Realme, by this which followeth it may appeare.
After that _Harold_ was slaine, _Edwine_ and _Morcar_ Earles of
_Northumberland_ and _Marckland_, brothers of great both authoritie and
power within the Realme, had induced many of the Nobilitie to declare
_Edgar Athelinge_ to be their King: but the Prelates not onely crossed
that purpose, but deliuered _Edgar_ the next heire from the _Saxon_
Kings to the pleasure of the Duke.
Againe, when the Duke after his great victorie at _Hastings_ aduanced
his armie towards _Hartford-shire_; _Fredericke_ Abbot of _S. Albanes_
had caused the woods belonging to his Church to be felled, and the
trees to be cast so thicke in the way, that the Duke was compelled to
coast about to the castle of _Berkhamstead_. To this place the Abbot
vnder Suerties came vnto him; and being demanded wherefore he alone did
offer that opposition against him, with a confident countenance he
returned answere: that he had done no more then in conscience and by
Nature he was bound to doe: and that if the residue of the Clergie had
borne the like minde, hee should neuer haue pierced the land so farre.
Well, answered the Duke, I know that your Clergie is powerfull indeed;
but if I liue and prosper in my affaires, I shall gouerne their
greatnesse well ynough. Assuredly, nothing doeth sooner worke the
conuersion or subuersion of a State, then that any one sort of Subiects
should grow so great, as to be able to ouerrule all the rest.
Besides this disposition of the Clergie, diuers of the Nobilitie also
did nothing fauour King _Harold_ or his cause: for that he was a
manifest vsurper, naked of all true title to the Crowne, pretending
onely as borne of the daughter of _Hardicanutus_ the _Dane_. Yea he was
infamous both for his iniurie and periurie towards the Duke, and no
lesse hatefull for his disloyaltie in former times, in bearing Armes
with his father against King _Edward_. Hereupon the Nobilitie of the
Realme were broken into factions. Many (of whom his owne brother _Tosto_
was chiefe) inuited _Harold_ King of _Norway_ to inuade; with whom
whilest _Harold_ of _England_ was incountring in Armes, the residue drew
in Duke _William_ out of _Normandie_. And these also were diuided in
respects. Some were caried by particular ends, as being prepared in
diuers maner by the _Normane_ before hand: others vpon a greedy and for
the most part deceiueable ambition, in hunting after hazard and change:
others were led with loue to their Countrey, partly to auoyd the tempest
which they saw to gather in clouds against them, and partly to enlarge
the Realme both in dominion and strength, by adioyning the Country of
_Normandie_ vnto it. In which regard, (because the lesse doeth alwayes
accrue to the greater) they thought it more aduantageable to deale with
a Prince of an inferiour state, then with a Prince of a state superiour
or equal.
As for _Edgar Atheling_, the next successour to the Crowne in right of
blood, he was not of sufficient age; of a simple wit and slow courage;
not gracious to the _English_, as well for his imperfections both in
yeeres and nature, as for that he was altogether vnacquainted with the
customes and conditions of their Countrey: vnfurnished of forces and
reputation, vnfurnished of friends, vnfurnished of all meanes to support
his title. So Duke _William_ hauing better right then the one, and more
power then the other, did easily cary the prize from both.
Now touching the state of his owne strength, albeit _Normandie_ was but
little in regard of _England_, yet was it neither feeble nor poore. For
the people, by reason of their continuall exercise in Armes, by reason
of the weightie warres which they had managed, were well inabled both in
courage and skill for all Militarie atchieuements. Their valour also had
bene so fauoured by their Fortune, that they were more enriched by
spoile, then drawne downe either with losses or with charge. Hereupon
when preparation was to be made for the enterprise of _England_,
although some disswaded the Duke from embracing the attempt; affirming
that it was a vaine thing to streine at that which the hand is not able
to conteine, to take more meat then the stomacke can beare; that he who
catcheth at matters too great, is in great danger to gripe nothing: Yet
did others not onely encourage him by aduise, but enable him by their
aide. Among which _William Fitz-Auber_ did furnish 40. ships with men
and munition; The Bishop of _Baieux_ likewise 40: the Bishop of _Mans_
30: and in like sort others, according to the proportion of their
estates.
And yet he drew not his forces onely out of _Normandie_, but receiued
aide from all parts of _France_; answerable not onely to his necessitie,
but almost to his desire. _Philip_ King of _France_ at that time was
vnder age, and _Baldwine_ Earle of _Flanders_ was gouernour of the
Realme; whose daughter the Duke had taken to wife. By his fauour the
Duke receiued large supplies from the state of _France_, both in
treasure and in men of warre: for countenance whereof it was giuen
foorth, that the Duke should hold the Realme of _England_ as hee did the
Duchie of _Normandie_, vnder homage to the Crowne of _France_. Hereupon
diuers Princes of _France_ did adioyne to his aide; and especially the
Duke of _Orleance_, the Earles of _Britaine_, _Aniou_, _Boloigne_,
_Ponthieu_, _Neuers_, _Poictou_, _Hiesmes_, _Aumale_, and the Lord of
_Tours_. Many other of the Nobilitie and Gentlemen did voluntarily
aduenture, both their bodies and whole estates vpon the euent of this
enterprise. So greatly had he either by courtesie wonne the loue, or by
courage erected the hopes of all men: yea of many who had bin his
greatest enemies. With these also the _Emperour Henry_ 4. sent him
certaine troupes of Souldiers, commanded by a Prince of _Almaine_. Hee
receiued also many promises of fauour from _Swaine_ King of _Denmarke_.
And who can assure (for the sequele maketh the coniecture probable) that
he held not intelligence with _Harold Harfager_ King of _Norway_, to
inuade _England_ with two armies at once. So partly by his owne
Subiects, and partly by supply from his Alleys and friends, hee amassed
a strong Armie, consisting chiefly of _Normans_, _Flemings_, _French_
and _Britaines_, to the number of fiftie thousand men; and brought them
to S. _Valeries_, before which Towne his ships did ride. Here he stayed
a certaine time attending the wind, as most writers doe report; but
rather as it may be coniectured, to awaite the arriuall of _Harold
Harfager_ K. of _Norway_: knowing right well, that the inuasion of
_Harold_ of _Norway_ vpon the North parts of the realme, would draw away
_Harold_ of _England_ to leaue the coasts towards the South vndefended.
During his abode at S. _Valeries_, certaine English espials were taken,
whom King _Harold_ had sent to discouer both the purposes and power of
the Duke. When they were brought to his presence, with a braue
confidence he said vnto them: _Your Lord might well haue spared this
charge; hee needed not to haue cast away his cost to vnderstand that by
your industrie and faith, which my owne presence shall manifest vnto
him; more certainly, more shortly then he doth expect. Goe your wayes,
goe tell him from me, If he find me not before the end of this yeere, in
the place where hee supposeth that hee may most safely set his foote,
let him neuer feare danger from mee whilest hee liue._ Many _Normans_
disliked this open dealing of the Duke: preferring to his iudgement the
valour and experience of King _Harold_; the greatnesse of his treasure;
the number and goodnes of his men; but especially his strong Nauie, and
expert Saylers; accustomed both to the fights and dangers of the Sea,
more then any other people in the world. To these the Duke turned, and
sayd: _I am glad to heare this opinion run, both of his prowesse and of
his power; the greater shall our glory bee in preuailing against him.
But I see right well that I haue small cause to feare his discouery of
our strength, when you, who are so neere vnto mee, discerne so little.
Rest your selues vpon the Iustice of your cause and foresight of your
Commaunder. Who hath lesse then hee, who can iustly tearme nothing his
owne? I know more of his weakenesse, then euer he shall know of my
strength, vntill he feele it. Performe you your parts like men, and he
shall neuer be able to disappoint either my assurance, or your hopes._
Now _Harold_ King of _England_ had prepared a fleet to resist the
inuasion of the duke of _Normandie_: but by reason of his long stay at
S. _Valeries_, speeches did spread, whether by error or subornation,
yea, assured aduertisement was sent out of _Flanders_, that he had for
that yeere abandoned his enterprise. In the meane time _Harold Harfager_
King of _Norway_, then whom no man was esteemed more valiant, hauing
assured both intelligence and aide out of _England_, arriued in the
mouth of _Humber_: and from thence drawing vp against the streame of
the riuer _Owse_, landed at a place called _Richhall_. Here he
Marshalled his Armie, and marched foorth into the Countrey: and when hee
came neere vnto _Yorke_, he was encountred by the _English_, led by
_Edwine_ and _Morchar_ the principall commanders of all those quarters.
The fight was furious, but in the end the _English_ were ouerthrowne,
and with a great slaughter chased into _Yorke_.
Vpon aduertisement hereof, _Harold_ King of _England_ caried all his
forces against _Harfager_. His readinesse was such, and such his
expedition, that the fifth day after the fight before mentioned he gaue
him battell againe; wherein _Harold Harfager_ was slaine, and so was
_Tosto_ the King of _Englands_ brother: _Tosto_ by an vncertaine enemie,
but _Harfager_ by the hand of _Harold_ of _England_. Their armie also
was routed, and with a bloody execution pursued, so long as day and
furie did last. Here a certaine Souldier of _Norway_ was most famous
almost for a miracle of manhood. He had been appointed with certaine
others, to guard the passage at _Stamford_ bridge. The residue vpon
approach of the English forsooke their charge; but hee alone stepped to
the foote of the Bridge, and with his Battle-axe sustained the shocke
of the whole armie; slew aboue fourty assailants, and defended both the
passage and himselfe, vntill an English Souldier went vnder the Bridge,
and through a hole thereof thrust him into the bodie with a Launce.
If this victory of King _Harold_ had been so wisely vsed as it was
valiantly wonne, he should haue neglected the spoyle, and returned with
the like celeritie wherewith he came. But hee gaue discontentment to his
Souldiers, in abridging their expectation for free sharing the spoile;
and hauing lost many in that conflict, he retired to _Yorke_, and there
stayed; as well to reforme the state of the Countrey, greatly disordered
by meanes of these warres, as also both to refresh and repaire his
armie.
In the meane time the Duke of _Normandie_ receiuing intelligence, that
the Sea-coasts were left naked of defence, loosed from S. _Valeries_
with three hundred, or, as some writers report, 896, or, as one _Norman_
writer affirmes, with more then one thousand saile: and hauing a gentle
gale, arriued at _Pemsey_ in _Sussex_, vpon the 28. of September. The
ship wherein the Duke was caried is said, (as if it had runne for the
garland of victory) to haue outstripped the rest so farre, that the
sailers were enforced to strike saile, and hull before the winde to haue
their companie. When hee first stepped vpon the shoare, one of his feete
slipped a little. The Duke to recouer himselfe stepped more strongly
with the other foote, and sunke into the sand somewhat deepe. One of his
Souldiers espying this, sayd merrily vnto him: _You had almost fallen my
Lord, but you haue well maintained your standing, and haue now taken
deepe and firme footing in the soyle of_ England. _The presage is good,
and hereupon I salute you King._ The Duke laughed; and the souldiers,
with whom superstition doth strongly worke, were much confirmed in
courage by the ieast.
When he had landed his forces, he fortified a piece of ground with
strong trenches, and discharged all his ships; leauing to his souldiers
no hope to saue themselues, but by onely by victory. After this he
published the causes of his comming in armes, namely:
1 To chalenge the kingdome of _England_, giuen to him by his cousin King
_Edward_, the last lawfull possessor at that time thereof.
2 To reuenge the death of his cousin _Alfred_, brother to the same K.
_Edward_, and of the _Normans_, who did accompanie him into _England_;
no lesse cruelly then deceitfully slaine by Earle _Goodwin_ and his
adherents.
3 To reuenge the iniurie done vnto _Robert_ Archbishop of Canterburie;
who by the practise (as it was then giuen foorth) of _Harold_, had been
exiled in the life time of King _Edward_.
This last article was added either to please the Pope, or generally in
fauour of the Cleargie: to whom the example grew then intollerable, that
an Archbishop should bee once questioned by any other then by
themselues.
So the Duke, leauing his fortification furnished with competent forces
to assure the place, as wel for a retreit, as for daily landing of fresh
supplies, marched forward to _Hastings_; and there raised another
fortresse, and planted likewise a garison therein. And in all places he
restrained his Souldiers, either from spoyling or harming the Countrey
people, for feare that thereby they would fall into disorder: but giuing
forth, that it were crueltie to spoile them, who in short time should be
his Subiects. Here the Duke, because he would not either aduenture or
trust his Souldiers, went foorth in person to discouer the Countrey,
with 15. horsemen in his company, and no more. His returne was on foote,
by reason of the euill qualitied wayes: and when _Fitz-Osberne_ who went
with him, was ouerwearied with the weight of his armour, the Duke eased
him by bearing his helmet vpon his shoulder. This action may seeme of
slender regard; but yet did gaine him, both fauour and dutie among his
Souldiers.
K. _Harold_ hearing of these approches, hasted by great iourneyes
towards _London_; sending his messengers to all places, both to
encourage and entreate the people to draw together for their common
defence. Here he mustered his Souldiers; and albeit hee found that his
forces were much impaired by his late battaile against _Harfager_, yet
he gathered an able armie, countenanced and commanded by diuers of the
Nobilitie, which resorted vnto him from many parts of the Realme. The
Duke in the meane time sent a messenger vnto him, who demanded the
Kingdome in so stout maner, that he was at the point to haue bene euill
entreated by the King. Againe the King sent his messenger to the Duke,
forbidding him with loftie language, to make any stay within that
Countrey; but to returne againe no lesse speedily, then rashly he had
entred. The Duke betweene mirth and scorne returned answere; That as he
came not vpon his entreaty, so at his command he would not depart. But
(said he) _I am not come to word with your King, I am come to fight, and
am desirous to fight: I will be ready to fight with him, albeit I had
but 10000. such men as I haue brought 60000._
K. _Harold_ spent little time, lost none (vnlesse happely that which hee
might haue taken more) both in appointing and ordering his Armie. And
when he was ready to take the field, his mother entreated him, first
moderately, then with words of passion and with teares, that he would
not aduenture his person to the battaile. Her importunitie was admired
the more, for that it was both without any apparant cause, and not
vsuall in former times. But _Harold_ with vndaunted countenance and
heart, conducted his Armie into _Sussex_, and encamped within seuen
miles of the _Normans_: who thereupon approched so neere to the
_English_, that the one Armie was within view of the other.
First, espials were sent on both sides, to discouer the state and
condition of their enemies. They who were sent from the English made a
large report, both of the number, and appointment, and discipline of the
_Normans_. Whereupon _Girth_, yonger brother to King _Harold_ presented
him with aduise, not to play his whole State at a cast; not to bee so
caried with desire of victory, as not to awaite the time to attaine it:
that it is proper to Inuaders presently to fight, because they are then
in the very pride and flourish of their strength; but the assailed
should rather delay battell, rather obserue only and attend their
enemies, cut off their reliefe, vexe them with incommodities, weary
them, and weare them out by degrees: that it could not be long before
the Dukes armie, being in a strange Countrey, would be reduced to
necessities; it could not bee long but by reason it consisted of diuers
nations, it would draw into disorder: that it was proper to an armie
compounded of different people, to be almost inuincible at the first,
whilest all contend to excell or at least to equal other in braue
performance; but if they be aduisedly endured, they will easily fall
into disorders, and lastly of themselues dissolue. _Or if_ (sayd he)
_you resolue to fight, yet because you are sworne to the Duke, you shall
doe well to withdraw your presence; to imploy your authoritie in
mustering a new armie, to bee readie to receiue him with fresh forces.
And if you please to commit the charge of this incounter vnto me, I will
not faile to expresse, both the loue of a brother, and the care and
courage of a Commander. For as I am not obliged to the Duke by oath, so
shall I either preuaile with the better cause, or with the quieter
conscience die._
Both these counsailes were reiected by _Harold_: The first out of a
violent vehemencie of these Northerne nations, who doe commonly esteeme
delay of battell a deiected cowardise, a base and seruile deflouring of
time; but to beare through their designes at once, they account a point
of honourable courage. The second he esteemed both shamefull to his
reputation, and hurtfull to the state of his affaires. For what honour
had he gained by his former victories, if when he came to the greatest
pinch of danger, hee should fearefully shrinke backe? with what heart
should the Souldiers fight, when they haue not his presence for whom
they fight? when they haue not their Generall an eye witnesse of their
performance? when they want his sight, his encouragement, his example to
enflame them to valour? The presence of the Prince is worth many
thousands of ordinarie Souldiers: The ordinary Souldier wil vndertake
both labour and danger for no other respects so much, as by the presence
of the Prince. And therefore he did greatly extenuate the worth of the
_Normans_, terming them a company of Priests; because their fashion was
to shaue their faces: But whatsoeuer they were, as he had (hee said)
digested in his minde the hardest euents of battell; so either the
infamie or suspicion of cowardise in no case hee would incurre. Hee
resolued not to ouerliue so great dishonour; he resolued to set vp as
his last rest, his Crowne, and Kingdome; and life withall. And thus
oftentimes Fortune dealeth with men, as Executioners doe with condemned
persons; she will first blindfold, and then dispatch them.
After this the _Norman_ sent a Monke to offer the choise of these
conditions to _Harold_; Either to relinquish his kingdome vpon certaine
conditions; or to hold it vnder homage to the Duke; or to try their
cause by single combate; or to submit it to the iudgement of the Pope,
according to the Lawes of _Normandy_ or of _England_, which he would.
Againe, some conditions were propounded from K. _Harold_ to the Duke:
But their thoughts were so lifted vp both with pride and confidence, by
reason of their former victories, that no moderate ouerture could take
place: and so they appointed the day following, which was the 14. of
October, to determine their quarrell by sentence of the sword. This
happened to be the birth day of K. _Harold_, which for that cause by a
superstitious errour, he coniectured would be prosperous vnto him.
The night before the battaile for diuers respects was vnquiet. The
_English_ spent the time in feasting and drinking, and made the aire
ring with showtings and songs: the _Normans_ were more soberly silent,
and busied themselues much in deuotion; being rather still then quiet,
not so much watchful as not able to sleepe. At the first appearance of
the day, the King and the Duke were ready in Armes, encouraging their
Souldiers, and ordering them in their arrayes; in whose eyes it seemed
that courage did sparckle, and that in their face and gesture victorie
did sit. The Duke put certaine reliques about his necke, vpon which King
_Harold_ had sworne vnto him. It is reported that when he armed, the
backe of his Curasses was placed before by errour of him that put it on:
some would haue bin dismayed hereat, but the Duke smiled, and said;
Assuredly this day my Fortune will turne, I shall either be a King, or
nothing before night.
The _English_ were knit in one maine body on foot; whereof the first
rancks consisted of _Kentishmen_ (who by an ancient custome did
challenge the honour of that place,) the next were filled with
_Londoners_; then followed the other _English_. Their chiefe weapons
were pole-axe, sword and dart, with a large target for their defence.
They were paled in front with paueises in such wise, that it was thought
impossible for the enemie to breake them. The King stood on foot by his
Standard, with two of his brothers, _Girth_ and _Leofwine_; as well to
relieue from thence all parts that should happen to be distressed, as
also to manifest to the Souldiers, that they reteined no thought of
escaping by flight. On the other side, the _Normans_ were diuided into
three battailes: The first was conducted by _Roger Montgomerie_, and
_William Fitz-Osborne_; it consisted of horsemen of _Aniou_, _Maine_ and
_Britaine_, commanded by a _Britaine_ named _Fergent_; It caried the
Banner which the Pope had sent. The middle battaile consisting of
Souldiers out of _Germanie_ and _Poictou_, was led by _Geoffrye
Martell_, and a Prince of _Almaine_. The Duke himselfe closed the last
battaile, with the strength of his _Normans_ and the flowre of his
Nobilitie. The Archers were diuided into wings, and also dispersed by
bands through all the three battails.
Thus were both sides set vpon a bloody bargaine; ambition, hope, anger,
hate, enflaming them to valour. The duke edged his Souldiers, by
declaring vnto them the noble Acts of their ancesters, the late
admirable atchieuement of their fellow _Normans_ in subduing the
Kingdome of _Sicill_, their owne braue exploits vnder him; by shewing
them all that pleasant and plentifull Countrey, as the purchase of their
prowesse, as the gaine and reward of their aduenture: by putting them in
minde, that they were in a Countrey both hostile & vnknowne, before them
the sword, the vast Ocean behind, no place of retreit, no surety but in
valour and in victory; so as they who would not contend for glory, were
vpon necessitie to fight for their liues: Lastly, by assuring them, that
as he was the first in aduise, so would he be the foremost in aduenture,
being fully resolued either to vanquish, or to die. The King encouraged
his men, by presenting to their remembrance, the miseries which they
susteined not long before, vnder the oppression of the _Danes_; which
whether they were againe to endure, or neuer to feare, it lieth (said
he) in the issue of this field. The King had the aduantage both for
number of men, and for their large able bodies; The Duke both in Armes,
(especially in regard of the Bow and arrowes,) and in experience and
skill of Armes; both equall in courage; both confident alike in the
fauour of Fortune, which had alwayes crowned their courage with victory.
And now by affronting of both the Armies, the plots and labours of many
moneths, were reduced to the hazard of a few houres.
The _Normans_ marched with a song of the valiant acts of _Rowland_,
esteeming nothing of perill in regard of the glory of their aduenture.
When they approched neere their enemies, they saluted them first with a
storme of Arrowes: _Robert Fitz Beaumonte_ a yong Gentleman of
_Normandie_, beginning the fight from the right Wing. This maner of
fight as it was new, so was it most terrible to the _English_, so were
they least prouided to auoyd it. First, they opened their rancks, to
make way for the Arrowes to fall; but when that auoydance did nothing
auaile, they cloased againe, and couered themselues with their Targets,
ioyned together in maner of a pendhouse; encouraging one another, to
hast forward, to leape lustily to hand-strokes, and to scoure their
swords in the entrailes of their enemies. Then the Duke commanded his
horsemen to charge: but the _English_ receiued them vpon the points of
their weapons, with so liuely courage, in so firme and stiffe order,
that the ouerthrow of many of the foremost, did teach their followers to
aduenture themselues with better aduise. Hereupon they shifted into
wings, and made way for the footmen to come forward. Then did both
armies ioyne in a horrible shocke, with Pole-axes, & the Prince of
weapons the sword: maintaining the fight with so manlike furie, as if it
had bene a battaile of Giants, rather then of men. And so they continued
the greatest part of that day, in close and furious fight; blow for
blow, wound for wound, death for death; their feet steadie, their hands
diligent, their eyes watchfull, their hearts resolute; neither their
aduisement dazeled by fiercenesse, nor their fiercenesse any thing
abated by aduisement.
In the meane time the horsemen gaue many sharpe charges, but were
alwayes beaten backe with disaduantage. The greatest annoyance came from
the Archers; whose shot showred among the _English_ so thicke, as they
seemed to haue the enemy in the middest of their Armie. Their armour was
not sufficiently either compleate or of proofe to defend them, but euery
hand, euery finger breadth vnarmed, was almost an assured place for a
deepe, and many times a deadly wound. Thus whilest the front was
maintained in good condition, many thousands were beaten downe behind;
whose death was not so grieuous vnto them, as the maner of their death,
in the middest of their friends, without an enemie at hand, vpon whom
they might shew some valour, and worke some reuenge.
This maner of fight would soone haue determined aswell the hopes as the
feares of both sides, had not the targets of English been very
seruiceable vnto them; Had not King _Harold_ also with a liuely and
constant resolution, performed the part, not onely of a skilfull
commander, by directing, encouraging, prouiding, relieuing; but of a
valiant Souldier by vsing his weapon, to the excellent example of his
Souldiers. In places of greatest danger hee was alwayes present;
repayring the decayes, reforming the disorders, and encouraging his
company, that in doing as men, whether they preuailed, or whether they
perished, their labour was alwayes gloriously employed. So they knit
strongly together, and stood in close and thicke array, as if they had
been but one body: not onely bearing the brunt of their enemies, but
making such an impression vpon their squadron, that the great bodie
began to shake. The Duke aduentured in person so farre, moued no lesse
by his naturall magnanimitie, then by glory of the enterprise, that
besides his often alighting to fight on foote, two, or (as some report)
three horses were slaine vnder him. And hauing a body both able by
nature, and by vse hardened to endure trauaile, hee exacted the greater
seruice of his Souldiers: commending the forward, blaming the slow, and
crying out (according to his nature) with vehement gesture and voice
vnto all; that it was a shame for them who had been victorious against
all men with whom they dealt, to be so long held by the _English_ in
delay of victory. So partly by his authoritie, and partly by his
example, he retained his Souldiers, and imposed vpon them the fayrest
necessitie of courage; whilest euery man contended to win a good opinion
of their Prince.
Then the fight entred into a new fitte of heate; nothing lesse feared
then death, the greatnesse of danger making both sides the more
resolute: and they who could not approach to strike with the hand, were
heard to encourage their fellowes by speach, to pursue the victory, to
pursue their glory, not to turne to their owne both destruction and
disgrace. The clashing of armour, the iustling of bodies, the resounding
of blowes, was the fairest part of this bloody medley: but the
grislinesse of wounds, the hideous fals and groanes of the dying, all
the field defiled with dust, blood, broken armour, mangled bodies,
represented Terrour in her foulest forme. Neuer was furie better
gouerned; neuer game of death better played. The more they fought the
better they fought; the more they smarted, the lesse they regarded
smart.
At the last, when the Duke perceiued that the _English_ could not be
broken by strength of arme, he gaue direction that his men should retire
and giue ground; not loosely, not disorderly, as in a fearefull and
confused haste, but aduisedly and for aduantage; keeping the front of
their squadron firme and close, without disbanding one foote in array.
Nothing was more hurtfull to the _English_, being of a franke and noble
spirit, then that their violent inclination caried them too fast into
hope of victory. For, feeling their enemies to yeeld vnder their hand,
they did rashly follow those who were not hasty to flee: And in the
heate of their pursuit, vpon a false conceit of victory, loosed and
disordered their rankes, thinking then of nothing but of executing the
chase. The _Normans_ espying the aduantage to be ripe, made a stiffe
stand, redoubled vpon the _English_, and pressing on with a furie equall
to their fauourable fortune, with a cruell butchery brake into them. On
the other side it is scarce credible with what strength both of courage
and hand the _English_ euen in despight of death, sustained themselues
in this disorder; drawing into small squadrons, and beating downe their
enemies on euery hand, being resolued to sell their liues with their
place.
But a mischiefe is no mischiefe, if it comes alone. Besides this
disaduantage of disarray, the shot of the _Normans_, did continually
beate vpon the _English_ with a grieuous execution. Among other King
_Harold_ about the closing of the euening, as he was busie in sustaining
his armie, both with voyce and with hand, was strooke with an arrow
through the left eye into his braines, of which wound hee presently
died. His two brothers, _Girth_ and _Leofwine_ were also slaine, and
also most of the nobilitie that were present: So long as the King stood,
they stood stoutly, both with him, and for him, and by him: his
directions supported them, his braue behauiour breathed fresh boldnesse
and life into them. But his death was a deadly stabbe to their courage;
vpon report of his death, they began to wauer in resolution, whether to
trust to the force of their armes, or to commend their safetie to their
good footemanship. In this incertainty many were slaine: Many retired in
reasonable order to a rising ground, whither they were closely followed
by the _Normans_; but the _English_ hauing gotten aduantage of the
place, and drawing courage out of despaire, with a bloody charge did
driue them downe. Count _Eustachius_ supposing fresh forces to be
arriued, fled away with fiftie Souldiers in his company; and meeting
with the Duke, rounded him secretly in his eare, that if hee went any
further hee was vndone. Whilest he was thus speaking, hee was strooke
betweene the shoulder with so violent a blowe, that he fell downe as
dead, and voided much blood at his nose and mouth. In this conflict many
of the noblest _Normans_ were slaine, which mooued the Duke to make a
strong ordered stand, giuing libertie therby for those _English_ to
retire. Others fled through a watery channell, the passages whereof were
well knowen vnto them: and when the _Normans_ did more sharpely then
aduisedly pursue, the place being shadowed partly with Sedges and
Reedes, and partly with the night, they were either stifled in the
waters, or easily destroyed by the _English_, and that in so great
numbers, that the place was filled vp with dead bodies. The residue
scattered in smaller companies, and had their flight fauoured by
increasing darkenesse: the enemie not aduenturing to follow, both in a
strange Countrey, and in the night. Earle _Edwine_ and Earle _Morchar_,
brothers of approoued both courage and faith, did great seruice at that
time, in collecting these dispersed Troupes, and leading them in some
fashion to _London_.
Duke _William_ surprised with Ioy, gaue publike charge for a solemne
thanksgiuing to God. Then he erected his pauilion in the middest of the
field, among the thickest of those bodies whom death had made to lie
quietly together. There he passed the residue of that night; and the
next morning mustered his souldiers, buried those that were slaine, and
gaue libertie to the _English_ to do the like. The bodie of King
_Harold_ could not be knowen by his face, it was so deformed by death,
and by his wound; by his armour and by certaine markes vpon his body it
was knowen. As it lay vpon the ground, a _Norman_ Souldier did strike it
into the legge with his sword: for which vnmanly acte he was cassed by
the Duke with open disgrace. It was caried into the Dukes Pauilion,
vnder the custodie of _William Mallet_. And when his mother made suite
for it to bee buried, the Duke denied it at the first; affirming, that
buriall was not fit for him, whose ambition was the cause of so many
Funerals. The mother, besides her lamentations and teares, offered for
it (as one _Norman_ writer affirmes) the weight thereof in gold. But the
Duke, with a manly compassion gaue it freely; as holding it
dishonourable both to value the bodie of a King, and make sale of a
slaine enemie. So his body was buried by his mother at _Waltham Crosse_
within the monasterie which hee had founded. Verely there was nothing to
be blamed in him, but that his courage could not stoupe to be lower then
a King.
I haue been the more long in describing this battel, for that I esteem
it the most memorable and best executed that euer was fought within this
land: as well for skilfull direction, as for couragious performance, and
also for the greatnesse of the euent. The fight continued with very
great both constancie of courage, and variety of fortune, from seuen of
the clocke in the morning vntill night. Of the _Normans_ were slaine
6000 and more, besides those that were drowned and beaten downe in the
water. The slaughter of the _English_ is vncertainely reported, but
certainely it was farre greater then that of the _Normans_. Certaine
also that their death was most honourable and faire, not any one basely
abandoning the fielde; not any one yeelding to bee taken prisoner. And
yet one circumstance more I hold fit to bee obserued; that this victory
was gotten onely by the meanes of the bow and arrow: The vse whereof was
by the _Normans_ first brought into this land. Afterward the _English_
being trained to that fight, did thereby chiefly maintaine themselues
with honourable aduantage, against all nations with whom they did
contend in armes; being generally reputed the best shot in the world.
But of late yeeres it hath bene altogether layed aside, and in stead
thereof the harquebuze and calliuer are brought into vse: yet not
without contradiction of many expert men of Armes; who albeit they doe
not reiect the vse of these small pieces, yet doe they preferre the Bow
before them. First, for that in a reasonable distance, it is of greater
both certainty and force. Secondly, for that it dischargeth faster.
Thirdly, for that more men may discharge therewith at once: for onely
the first rancke dischargeth the piece, neither hurt they any but those
that are in front; but with the bow 10. or 12. rancks may discharge
together, and will annoy so many ranckes of the enemies. Lastly, for
that the arrow doeth strike more parts of the body: for in that it
hurteth by discent; (and not onely point blancke like the bullet) there
is no part of the body but it may strike; from the crowne of the head,
euen to the nayling of the foot to the ground. Hereupon it followeth,
that the arrowes falling so thicke as haile vpon the bodies of men, as
lesse fearefull of their flesh, so more slenderly armed then in former
times, must necessarily worke most dangerous effects.
Besides these generall respects in many particular seruices and times,
the vse of the Bow is of greatest aduantage. If some defence lye before
the enemy, the arrow may strike where the bullet cannot. Foule weather
may much hinder the discharge of the piece, but it is no great
impediment to the shot of the Bow. A horse strooke with a bullet if the
wound be not mortall, may performe good seruice; but if an arrow be
fastened in his flesh, the continuall stirring thereof, occasioned by
the motion of himselfe, will enforce him to cast off all command, and
either beare downe or disorder those that are neere.
But the cracke of the piece (will some man say) doeth strike a terrour
into the enemie. True, if they bee such as neuer heard the like noise
before. But a little vse wil extinguish these terrours: to men, yea to
beasts acquainted with these cracks, they worke a weake impression of
feare. And if it be true which all men of action doe hold, that the eye
in all battailes is first ouercome, then against men equally accustomed
to both, the sight of the arrow is more auaileable to victorie then the
cracke of the piece. Assuredly, the Duke before the battaile encouraged
his men, for that they should deale with enemies who had no shot. But I
will leaue this point to be determined by more discerning iudgements,
and happily by further experience in these affaires, and returne againe
to my principall purpose.
The next day after the victorie the Duke returned to _Hastings_, about
seuen miles from the place of the encounter, partly to refresh his
Armie, and partly to settle in aduise and order for his further
prosecution. First, he dispatched messengers to signifie his successe to
his friends abroad; to the Pope he sent King _Harolds_ Standerd, which
represented a man fighting, wrought curiously with golde and precious
stones. Afterwards placing a strong garrison at _Hastings_, he conducted
his Armie towards _London_: not the direct way, but coasted about
through part of _Kent_, through _Sussex_, _Surrey_, _Hampshire_ and
_Barkeshire_: the wayes where hee passed being as free from resistance,
as his thoughts were from change. At _Wallingford_ he passed ouer the
_Thames_; and then marched forward through _Oxford-shire_,
_Buckingham-shire_, and _Hartford-shire_, vntill he came to the Castle
at _Berkhamstead_. In this passage many of his Souldiers languished and
died of the Fluxe. And whether it were vpon licentiousnesse after the
late victorie, or whether for want of necessary prouision, or whether to
strike a terrour into the _English_, or whether to leaue no danger at
his backe, he permitted the sword to range at large, to harrie freely,
to defile many places with ruine and blood.
In the meane time the _English_ Lords assembled at _London_, to aduise
vpon their common affaires; but the varietie of opinions was the chiefe
impediment to the present seruice; the danger being more important, then
the counsaile resolute, or the confidence assured. The Nobilitie
enclined to declare _Edgar_ grandchild to _Edmund Ironside_, to be their
King: and with these the _Londoners_ wholy went. But those of the
Clergie were of opinion (some vpon particular respects, all vpon feare
to displease the Pope) to yeeld to the storme and streame of the present
time, to yeeld to the mightie Arme of GOD; that their forces being
prostrated, their hopes feeble and forlorne, they must be content not to
be constrained; they must not prouoke the Victor too farre; against
whose forces and felicities, time gaue them not power to oppose. This
deliberation held so long, that all the time of action was spent. For
the Duke approched so neere the Citie, that many preferring their
safetie before other respects, withdrew themselues and went vnto him.
Hereupon the residue dissolued: and _Alfred_ Archb. of _Yorke_,
_Wolstane_ Bishop of _Worcester_, _Wilfire_ B. of _Hereford_, and many
other Prelates of the Realme went vnto the Duke at _Berkhamstead_;
accompanied with _Edgar_, Earle _Edwine_, Earle _Morchar_, and diuers
others of the Nobilitie: who gaue pledges for their allegiance, and were
thereupon receiued to subiection and fauour. The Duke presently
dispatched to _London_, was receiued with many declarations of ioy, the
lesser in heart, the fairer in appearance, and vpon _Christmas day_ next
following was crowned King.
Now the meanes whereby this victory was[21] assured, were the very same
whereby it was atchieued; euen by a stiffe and rigorous hand. For
whosoeuer supposeth that a State atteined by force, can be reteined by
milder meanes, he shall find himselfe disappointed of his hopes. A
people newly subdued by force, will so long remaine in obedience, as
they finde themselues not of force to resist.
And first he endeauoured either to preuent or appease all forren warres,
especially against the _Danes_, who were then chiefly feared in
_England_, as well in regard of their former victories, as for that they
pretended title to the Crowne. And herein two things did especially
fauour his affaires. One, for that the _Normans_ were in some sort
allied to the _Danes_; being the progenie of those _Noruegians_ and
_Danes_, which vnder the conduct and fortune of _Rollo_ inuaded
_France_, & after many great atchieuements, seated in _Normandie_. The
other was, for that after the death of _Canutus_, the state of
_Denmarke_ was much infeebled by diuision. For the _Noruegians_ set vp
_Magnus_ the sonne of _Olaus_ for their King; but the _Danes_
acknowledged _Canutus_ the third of that name: by meanes whereof that
puissant empire did languish in consumption of it selfe, and could not
be dangerous to any neighbour Countrey. Yet ceased they not for many
yeeres, to continue claime to the Crowne of _England_: But King
_William_ had purchased many sure and secret friends in that diseased
state, wherein all publike affaires were set to sale; especially he vsed
the authoritie of _Adelbert_, Archbishop of _Hamburgh_, either to crosse
all counsaile of hostilitie against him, or else to delay, and thereby
to delude the enterprise, or lastly so to manage the action, that it
should not worke any dangerous effect.
After the death of _Swaine_, _Canutus_ prepared a Nauie of one thousand
saile for inuasion of _England_; and was aided with sixe hundred more
by _Robert le Frizon_, whose daughter hee had taken to wife. But either
for want, or else by negligence, or happily of purpose, this Nauie
continued, partly in preparation, and partly in a readinesse, the space
of two yeeres, and then the voyage was layd aside. The cause was
attributed to contrarietie of winds; but the contrariety of wils was the
truest impediment. Likewise _Swaine_ had furnished against _England_ a
Nauie of 200. sayle, commanded by Earle _Osborne_ his brother. Another
fleete of 200. saile was set foorth vnder the charge of Earle _Hacon_:
But King _William_ so corrupted them both, that the one departed out of
the Realme without performing any great exploit, the other neuer would
arriue.
Also out of these confusions in _England_, _Malcolme_ King of Scots, did
take his opportunitie for action. Hee receiued into protection many
_English_, who either for feare, or for discontentment, forsooke their
Countrey; of whom many families in _Scotland_ are descended, and namely
these; _Lindsey_, _Vaus_, _Ramsey_, _Louell_, _Towbris_, _Sandlands_,
_Bissart_, _Sowlis_, _Wardlaw_, _Maxwell_, with diuers others. Hee
entertained into his Court _Edgar Atheling_; and tooke his sister
_Margaret_ to wife. He possessed himselfe of a great part of
_Cumberland_, and of _Northumberland_; wherewith the people were well
content, for that hee was their Earles sisters sonne.
Hereupon King _William_ sent against him, first, _Roger_ a _Norman_, who
was traiterously slaine by his owne Souldiers, then _Gospatrick_, Earle
of _Gloucester_: These did onely represse the enemie, but were not able
to finish the warre fully. Lastly, hee went himselfe with a mighty armie
into _Scotland_, where hee made wide waste, and in _Lothiam_ found King
_Malcolme_, prepared both in force and resolution to entertaine him with
battell. The great armie of King _William_, their faire furniture and
order, their sudden comming, but especially their firme countenance and
readinesse to fight, much daunted the _Scots_: whereupon King _Malcolme_
sent a Herault to King _William_, to mooue him to some agreement of
peace. The more that the King was pleased herewith, the more hee seemed
vnwilling and strange: the more he must be perswaded to that, which if
it had not bin offered, he would haue desired. At the last, a peace was
concluded, vpon conditions honourable for King _William_, and not
vnreasonable for the King of _Scots_: whereby all the _English_ were
pardoned, who had fled into _Scotland_, and borne armes against their
King.
As for the _Welsh_, albeit both their courage and their power had been
extreamely broken in the time of King _Edward_, and that by the valour
and industry of _Harold_; yet vpon aduantage of these troubled times,
they made some incursions into the borders of _England_; but in
companies so disordered and small, so secretly assaulting, so suddenly
retiring, so desirous more of pillage then of blood, that they seemed
more like to ordinarie robbers then to enemies in field. Against these
the King ledde an armie into _Wales_, reduced the people both to
subiection and quiet, made all the principall men tributary vnto him,
receiued pledges of all, for assurance of their obedience and faith.
Whilest the King thus setled his affaires abroad, he secured himselfe
against his subiects,[22] not by altering their will, but by taking away
their power to rebell. The stoutest of the Nobilitie and Gentlemen were
spent, either by warre, or by banishment, or by voluntary auoidance out
of the Realme. All these hee stripped of their states, and in place of
them aduanced his _Normans_: insomuch as scarce any noble family of the
_English_ blood did beare either office or authoritie within the Realme.
And these ranne headlong to seruitude; the more hasty and with the
fairer shew, the more either countenanced or safe. These he did assure
vnto him, not onely by oath of fidelitie and homage, but either by
pledges, or else by reteining them alwaies by his side.
And because at that time the Clergie were the principall strings of the
_English_ strength, he permitted not any of the _English_ Nation to be
aduanced to the dignities of the Church, but furnished them with
_Normans_, and other strangers. And whereas in times before, the Bishop
and Alderman were absolute Iudges in euery Shire, and the Bishop in many
causes shared in forfeitures and penalties with the King; he clipped the
wings of their Temporall power, and confined them within the limits of
their Ecclesiasticall Iurisdiction; to maintaine the Canons and customes
of the Church, to deale in affaires concerning the soule. He procured
_Stigand_ Archbishop of _Canterburie_, _Agelwine_ Bishop of
_East-Angles_, and certaine other Bishops and Abbots, to be depriued by
authoritie from _Rome_, and deteined them in prison during their liues,
that strangers might enioy their places. The matters obiected against
_Stigand_ were these.
1 _That hee had entruded vpon the Archbishopricke whilest Robert the
Archb. was in life._
2 _That he receiued his Pall from Benedict the fifth, who for buying
the Papacie had bene deposed._
3 _That hee kept the Sea of Winchester in his handes, after his
inuestiture into the Sea of Canterburie._
He was otherwise also infamous in life; altogether vnlearned, of heauie
iudgement and vnderstanding, sottishly seruiceable both to pleasure and
sloath; in couetousnesse beneath the basenesse of rusticitie: insomuch
as he would often sweare, that he had not one penie vpon the earth, and
yet by a key which hee did weare about his necke, great treasures of his
were found vnder the ground. And this was a griefe and sicknesse to
honest mindes, that such spurious and impure creatures should susteine,
or rather destaine the reuerence and maiestie of Religion.
Further, the King caused all the Monasteries and Abbeys to be searched,
pretending that the richer sort of the _English_ had layd vp their money
in them: vnder colour whereof he discouered the state of all, and
bereaued many of their owne treasure. Some of these Religious houses he
appropriated wholly to himselfe; of diuers others he seized the
liberties, which they redeemed afterward at a very high and excessiue
rate. Those Bishopricks and Abbeis which held Baronies, and had bene
free before from secular subiection, he reduced vnder the charge of his
seruice; appointing how many Souldiers, and of what sort, they should
furnish for him and his successours in the time of their warres. Those
strangers which he entertained in pay, he dispersed into Religious
houses, and some also among the Nobilitie, to be maintained at their
charge: whereby he not onely fauoured his owne purse, but had them as a
watch, and sometimes as a garrison ouer those, of whose alleageance he
stood in doubt.
Now against the inferiour sort of people, knowing right well that hee
was generally hated, hee prepared these remedies for his estate: All
their armour was taken from them, they were crushed downe with change
of calamity, which held them prostrate vnder yoke, and brake the very
heart of their courage: leauing them no hope to be relieued, no hope to
rise into any degree of libertie, but by yeelding entire obedience vnto
him. Those who either resisted or fauoured not his first entrance, he
bereaued of all meanes afterward to offend him; holding them downe, and
keeping them so lowe, that their very impotencie made him secure. All
such as had their hand in any rebellion, albeit they were pardoned their
liues, lost their liuings, and became vassals to those Lords to whom
their possessions were giuen. And if they attained any thing afterward,
they held it onely at the pleasure of their Lords; at the pleasure of
their Lords they might bee despoyled.
Hee much condemned the iudgement of _Swanus_ the _Dane_, sometimes King
of _England_, who permitted those whom hee had vanquished, to retaine
their former both authoritie and estates: whereby it happened, that
after his death, the inhabitants were of force to expell the strangers,
and to quit themselues both from their societie and subiection.
Hereupon many seuere lawes were made; diuers of all sorts were put to
death, banished, stripped of their wealth, disabled in their bodies by
vnusuall variety of punishments; as putting out the eyes, cutting off
the hands and such like: not onely to diminish his feares, if they were
suspected; but sometimes if they were of wealth, to satisfie therewith
either his pleasure or wants. His cruelty made the people rebellious,
and their rebellions made him the more cruell; in which case many
Innocents were made the oblations of his ambitious feares. Many heauy
taxations were imposed vpon them; their ancient Lords were remoued,
their ancient lawes and policies of State were dashed to dust; all lay
couched vnder the Conquerours sword, to bee newly fashioned by him, as
should bee best fitting for his aduantage.
Hee erected Castels in diuers parts of the Realme, of which the Towre
neere _London_ was the chiefe, which afterward was increased both in
compasse and in strength by addition of the outward walls. In these he
planted garrisons of _Normans_, as if it had bene in a hostile Countrey;
not without oppression to the people although they remained quiet, and
sufficient to suppresse them if they should rebell. Thus he secured the
Realme against a generall defection; as for particular stirres, they
might happily molest him, but endanger him they could not. _Exceter_,
_Northumberland_, and some other parts did rise against him in armes;
but being vnable to maintaine their reuolt, their ouerthrow did much
confirme his State.
Hee either imitated or concurred with _Caesar_ in aduise: For, as _Caesar_
inuaded the _Germans_ which kept the great forrest of _Ardenna_, not
with his owne Souldiers, but with his aides out of _Gallia_; gaining
thereby victory ouer the one, and securitie from the other, without any
dispence of the _Romane_ blood: so after the Kings great victory against
the valiant, but too aduenturous King _Harold_, when many of the English
fled into _Ireland_, and from thence with fresh both courage, and
supplies returned into _England_; commaunded by two of _Harolds_ sonnes;
hee encountred them onely with _English_ forces. In the first conflict
the Kings partie was ouerthrowen, and the valiant leader _Ednothus_
slaine, who had bene master of the horses to King _Harold_. In the
second his enemies were so defeated, as they were neuer able to make
head againe. So the victorers being weakened, and the vanquished wasted,
the King with pleasure triumphed ouer both. Likewise when he was
occasioned to passe the Seas into _Normandie_, either to establish
affaires of gouernement, or to represse rebellions, which in his absence
were many times raised; he drew his forces out of _England_, and that in
a more large proportion then the importance of the seruice did require.
Hee also tooke with him the chiefe men of _English_ blood, as well to
vse their aduise and aide, as also to hold them and their friends from
working innouation in his absence.
He enclosed the great Forrest neere vnto the Sea in _Hamshire_, for
which he dispeopled villages and townes, about the space of thirtie
miles, to make a desert for beasts of chase; in which place afterward
two of his sonnes, _Richard_ and _William_ ended their liues; _Richard_
by a fall from his horse, and _William_ by the stroke of an arrow. The
Kings great delight in hunting was made the pretence of this Forrest;
but the true end was rather, to make a free place of footing for his
_Normans_ and other friends out of France, in case any great reuolt
should be made. Diuers other parts of the Realme were so wasted with
his warres, that for want both of Husbandrie and habitation, a great
dearth did ensue; whereby many were inforced to eate horses, dogs, cats,
rats, and other loathsome and vile vermine: yea, some absteined not from
the flesh of men. This famine and desolation did especially rage in the
North parts of the Realme. For the inhabitants beyond _Humber_, fearing
the Kings secret hate, so much the more deepe and deadly because vniust;
receiued without resistance, and perhaps drew in the Armie of the King
of _Sueueland_, with whom _Edgar Atheling_ and the other _English_ that
fled into _Scotland_ ioyned their power. The _Normans_ within _Yorke_
fired the suburbs, because it should not be a lodging for their enemies:
but the strength of the winde caried the flame into the Citie, which
consumed a great part thereof, with the Minster of S. _Peter_, and
therein a faire Librarie. And herewith whilest the _Normans_ were partly
busied, and partly amazed, the enemies entred, and slue in _Yorke_, in
_Duresme_, and thereabout, three thousand _Normans_; among whom were
many of eminent dignitie, as well for birth, as for place of their
charge. But in short time the King came vpon them, and hauing partly by
Armes, and partly by gifts dispatched the strangers, exercised vpon the
_English_ an ancient and assured experience of warre, to represse with
maine force a rebellion in a State newly subdued. Insomuch as all the
land betweene _Duresme_ and _Yorke_, except onely the territorie of S.
_Iohn_ of _Beuerlace_, lay waste for the space of nine yeeres, without
inhabitants to manure the ground.
And because conspiracies and associations are commonly contriued in the
night, he commanded, that in all Townes and villages a Bell should be
runge in the euening at eight of the clocke; and that in euery house
they should then put foorth their fire and lights, and goe to bed. This
custome of ringing a Bell at that houre, in many places is still
obserued.
And for that likenesse is a great cause of liking and of loue, he
enioyned the chiefe of the _English_ (and these were soone imitated by
the rest) to conforme themselues to the fashions of _Normandie_, to
which they had made themselues no strangers before. Yea, children in the
schoole were taught their letters and principles of grammar in the
_Norman_ language. In their speech, attire, shauing of the beard,
seruice at the Table; in their buildings and houshold furniture, they
altogether resembled the _Normans_.
In the beginning of his reigne he ordeined that the Lawes of King
_Edward_ should be obserued, together with those Lawes which hee did
prescribe: but afterwards he commanded that 9. men should be chosen out
of euery shire, to make a true report what were the Lawes and customes
of the Realme. Of these hee changed the greatest part, and brought in
the customes of _Normandie_ in their stead: commanding also that causes
should be pleaded, and all matters of forme dispatched in _French_.
Onely hee permitted certaine _Dane_-Lawes, (which before were chiefly
vsed in _Northfolke_, _Suffolke_, and _Cambridge_-shire) to be generally
obserued; as hauing great affinitie with his _Norman_-customes; both
being deriued from one common head.
Likewise at the great suit of _William_ a _Norman_ then Bishop of
_London_, he granted a Charter of libertie to that Citie, for enioying
the vse of K. _Edwards_ Lawes: a memoriall of which benefite, the
Citizens fixed vpon the Bishops graue, being in the middest of the
great West Ile of S. _Pauls_. Further, by the counsaile of _Stigand_
Archb. of _Canterburie_, and of _Eglesine_ Abbot of S. _Augustines_ (who
at that time were the chiefe gouernours of _Kent_) as the King was
riding towards _Douer_, at _Swanescombe_ two mile from _Grauesend_, the
_Kentish_ men came towards him armed, and bearing boughes in their
hands, as if it had bene a moouing wood; they encloased him vpon the
sudden, and with a firme countenance, but words well tempered with
modestie and respect, they demanded of him the vse of their ancient
Liberties and Lawes: that in other matters they would yeeld obedience
vnto him: that without this they desired not to liue. The King was
content to strike saile to the storme, and to giue them a vaine
satisfaction for the present; knowing right well, that the generall
customes & Lawes of the residue of the Realme, would in short time
ouerflow these particular places. So pledges being giuen on both sides,
they conducted him to _Rochester_, and yeelded the Countie of _Kent_ and
the Castle of _Douer_ into his power.
In former times many Farmes and Mannors were giuen by bare word,
without writing, onely with the sword of the Lord, or his head-peece;
with a horne or standing goblet, and many tenements with a quill, with a
horse-combe, with a bow, with an arrow; but this sincere simplicitie at
that time was changed. And whereas Charters and deeds were before made
firme by the subscription of the partie, with crosses of gold, or of
some other colour; then they were firmed by the parties speciall Seale,
set vpon waxe, vnder the _Teste_ of three or foure witnesses.
He ordained also his counsaile of State, his Chancery, his Exchequer,
his Courts of Iustice, which alwaies remoued with his Court. These
places he furnished with Officers, and assigned foure Termes in the yere
for determining controuersies among the people: whereas before all
suites were summarily heard and determined in the _Gemote_ or monthly
conuention in euery hundred, without either formalities or delay.
He caused the whole Realme to be described in a censuall Roll, so as
there was not one Hide of land, but both the yerely rent and the owner
thereof, was therein set downe; how many plowlands, what pastures,
fennes, or marishes; what woods, parkes, farmes and tenements were in
euery shire; and what euery one was worth. Also how many villaines euery
man had, what beasts or cattell, what fees, what other goods, what rent
or commoditie his possessions did yeeld. This booke was called _The Roll
of Winton_, because it was kept in the Citie of _Winchester_. By the
_English_ it was called _Doomes day booke_; either by reason of the
generalitie thereof, or else corruptly in stead of _Domus Dei booke_;
for that it was layed in the Church of _Winchester_, in a place called
_Domus Dei_. According to this Roll taxations were imposed; sometimes
two shillings, and sometimes sixe shillings vpon euery hide of land (a
hide conteyning 20. acres,) besides ordinarie prouision for his house.
In all those lands which hee gaue to any man, he reserued _Dominion in
chiefe_ to himselfe: for acknowledgement whereof a yeerely rent was payd
vnto him, and likewise a fine whensoeuer the Tenant did alien or die.
These were bound as Clients vnto him by oath of fidelitie and homage;
And if any died his heire being in minoritie, the King receiued the
profits of the land, and had the custodie and disposing of the heires
body, vntill his age of one and twentie yeeres.
It is reported of _Caligula_,[23] that when he entended to make
aduantage of his penal Edicts, he caused them to be written in so small
letters, and the tables of them to be fastened so high, that it was
almost impossible for any man to read them. So the King caused part of
those Lawes that he established, to be written in the _Norman_ language,
which was a barbarous and broken _French_, not well vnderstood of the
naturall _French_, and not at all of the vulgar _English_. The residue
were not written at all, but left almost arbitrarie, to be determined by
reason and discretion at large. Hereupon it followed, partly through
ignorance of the people, and partly through the malice of some officers
of Iustice, who many times are instruments of secret and particular
ends; that many were extreamely intangled, many endangered, many rather
made away, then iustly executed.
But here it may be questioned, seeing these Lawes were layed vpon the
_English_, as fetters about their feet, as a ponderous yoke vpon their
necke, to depresse and deteine them in sure subiection; how it falleth,
that afterward they became not onely tolerable, but acceptable and well
esteemed.
Assuredly, these lawes were exceeding harsh and heauy to the _English_
at the first: And therefore K. _William Rufus_, and _Henry_ the first,
at such time as _Robert_ their eldest brother came in armes against them
to challenge the crowne, being desirous to winne the fauour of the
people, did fill them with faire promises, to abrogate the lawes of K.
_William_ their father, and to restore to them the Lawes of K. _Edward_.
The like was done by K. _Stephen_, and by K. _Henry_ the second; whilest
both contending to draw the State to himselfe, they did most grieuously
teare it in pieces. The like by others of the first Kings of the
_Norman_ race, whensoeuer they were willing to giue contentment to the
people: who desired no other reward for all their aduentures and
labours, for al their blood spent in the seruice of their Kings, but to
haue the Lawes of K. _Edward_ restored. At the last the Nobilitie of the
Realme, with great dispence both of their estates and blood, purchased a
Charter of libertie, First from K. _Iohn_, which was soone reuoked, as
violently enforced from him: afterwards from King _Henry_ the third,
which remained in force. And hereby the sharpe seuerity of these lawes
was much abated.
In that afterwards they became, not onely tolerable, but easie and
sweete, and happily not fit to bee changed, it is by force of long
grounded custome, whereby those vsages which our ancestors haue obserued
for many ages, do neuer seeme either grieuous or odious to bee endured.
So _Nicetas_ writing of certaine Christians, who by long conuersing with
the _Turkes_, had defiled themselues with Turkish fashions,
_Custome_[24] (saith he) _winneth such strength by time, that it is more
firme then either Nature or Religion_. Hereupon _Dio. Chrysostome_
compareth Customes to a King,[25] and Edicts to a Tyrant; because we are
subiect voluntarily to the one, but by constraint and vpon necessitie to
the other. _It is manifest_ (saith _Agathias_) _that vnder whatsoeuer
law a people hath liued, they doe esteeme the same most excellent and
diuine_.[26] _Herodotus_ reporteth, that _Darius_ the sonne of
_Hysdaspis_, hauing vnder his Dominion certaine _Grecians_ of _Asia_,
who accustomed to burne their dead parents and friends, and certaine
nations of _India_, who vsed to eate them; called the _Grecians_ before
him: and told them that it was his pleasure, that they should conforme
themselues to the custome of the _Indians_, in eating their deceased
friends. But they applied all meanes of intreatie and perswasion, that
they might not be inforced, to such a barbarous, or rather brutish
obseruation. Then hee sent for the _Indians_, and mooued them to
conformitie with the _Grecians_; but found that they did farre more
abhorre to burne their dead, then the _Grecians_ did to eate them.
Now these seuerities of the King were much aggrauated by the _English_,
and esteemed not farre short of cruelties. Notwithstanding hee tempered
it with many admirable actions both of iustice and of clemencie and
mercie: for which hee is much extolled by the _Normane_[27] writers. Hee
gaue great priuiledges to many places; & the better to giue the people
contentment, and to hold them quiet, he often times renued the oath
which first he tooke at his Coronation: namely, _to defend the holy
Church of God, the pastors thereof, and the people subiect to him iustly
to gouerne, to ordaine good lawes, and obserue true iustice, and to the
vttermost of his power to withstand all rapines and false Iudgements._
Such of the nobilitie as had been taken in rebellion, were onely
committed to prison; from which they were released in time: such as
yeelded and submitted themselues, were freely pardoned, and often times
receiued to fauour, trust, and imployment.
_Edric_, the first that rebelled after hee was King, he held neere and
assured vnto him. _Gospatric_ who had been a stirrer of great
commotions, he made Earle of _Glocester_, and employed him against
_Malcolme_ King of _Scots_. _Eustace_ Earle of _Bologne_, who vpon
occasion of the Kings first absence in _Normandie_ attempted to surprize
the Castle of _Douer_, he imbraced afterward with great shew of loue and
respect. _Waltheof_ sonne to Earle _Siward_, who in defending the Citie
of _Yorke_ against him, had slaine many _Normans_, as they assayed to
enter a breach, hee ioyned in marriage to his Neece _Iudeth_. _Edgar_
who was the ground and hope of all conspiracies, who after his first
submission to the King, fled into _Scotland_, and maintained open
hostilitie against him, who pretended title to the Crowne as next heire
to the _Saxon_ Kings, he not onely receiued to fauour, but honoured
with faire enterteinments. Hee furnished him to the warre of
_Palestine_, where he atteined an honourable estimation with the
Emperours of _Almaine_ and of _Greece_. After his returne he was allowed
20. shillings a day by way of pension, and large liuings in the
Countrey, where he mellowed to old age in pleasure and vacancie of
affaires; preferring safe subiection, before ambitious rule accompanied
both with danger and disquiet.
Thus was no man more milde to a relenting and vanquished enemie; as
farre from crueltie, as he was from cowardice, the height of his spirit,
ouerlooking all casuall, all doubtfull and vncertaine dangers. Other
great offenders he punished commonly by exile or imprisonment, seldome
by death. Onely among the _English_ Nobilitie Earle _Waltheof_ was put
to death, for that after twice breaking allegiance, he conspired the
third time with diuers both _English_ and _Normans_ to receiue the
_Danes_ into _England_, whilest the King was absent in _Normandie_. And
for the same conspiracie _Ralph Fitz-aubert_ a _Norman_ was also
executed; who had furnished 40. ships for the King in his voiage for
_England_: for which and for his other seruices in that warre, he was
afterward created Earle of _Hereford_. But present iniuries doe alwayes
ouerballance benefits that are past.
He much delighted in hunting and in feasting. For the first he enclosed
many forrests and parks, and filled them with Deere; which he so deerely
loued, that he ordained great penalties for such as should kill those or
any other beasts of game. For the second hee made many sumptuous feasts,
especially vpon the high Festiuall dayes in the yeere. His _Christmasse_
hee often kept at _Glocester_, his _Easter_ at _Winchester_, his
_Whitsontide_ at _Westminster_; and was crowned once in the yeere at one
of these places, so long as he continued in _England_. To these feasts
he inuited all his Nobilitie, and did then principally compose himselfe
to courtesie, as well in familiar conuersation, as in facilitie to grant
suits, and to giue pardon to such as had offended. At other times he was
more Maiesticall and seuere; and imployed himselfe both to much exercise
and great moderation in diet; whereby he preserued his body in good
state, both of health and strength, and was easily able to endure
trauaile, hunger, heat, cold, and all other hardnesse both of labour and
of want.
Many wrongs he would not see, of many smarts he would not complaine; he
was absolute master of himselfe, and thereby learned to subdue others.
He was much commended for chastitie of body; by which his Princely
actions were much aduanced. And albeit the beginning of his reigne was
pestered with such routs of outlawes and robbers, that the peaceable
people could not accompt themselues in surety within their owne doores;
hee so well prouided for execution of Iustice vpon offenders, or rather
for cutting off the causes of offence; that a young maiden well charged
with gold, might trauaile in any part of the Realme, without any offer
of iniurie vnto her. For if any man had slaine another vpon any cause,
he was put to death; and if he could not be found, the hundred paide a
fine to the King; sometimes 28. and sometimes 36. pounds, according to
the largenesse of the hundred in extent. If a man had oppressed any
woman, he was depriued of his priuie parts. As the people by Armes, so
Armes by lawes were held in restraint.
He talked little and bragged lesse: a most assured performer of his
word: In prosecution or his purposes constant and strong, and yet not
obstinate; but alwayes appliable to the change of occasions: earnest,
yea violent, both to resist his enemies, and to exact dueties of his
Subiects. He neither loued much speech, nor gaue credite to faire; but
trusted truely to himselfe, to others so farre as he might not be abused
by credulitie.
His expedition (the spirit of actions and affaires) may hereby appeare.
He inuaded _England_ about the beginning of October; He subdued all
resistance, he suppressed all rising Rebellions, and returned into
_Normandy_ in March following. So as the time of the yeere considered, a
man should hardly trauaile through the land in so short a time as he did
win it. A greater exploit then _Iulius Caesar_ or any other stranger
could euer atchieue vpon that place.
He gaue many testimonies of a Religious minde. For he did often frequent
Diuine seruice in the Church, he gaue much Almes, hee held the Clergie
in great estimation, and highly honoured the Prelats of the Church. He
sent many costly ornaments, many rich presents of gold and siluer to the
Church of _Rome_; his _Peter_ paiments went more readily, more largely
then euer before. To diuers Churches in _France_ after his victorie he
sent Crosses of gold, vessels of gold, rich Palles, or other ornaments
of great beautie and price. He bare such reuerence to _Lanfranck_
Archbishop of _Canterburie_, that he seemed to stand at his directions.
At the request of _Wolstane_ Bishop of _Worcester_, he gaue ouer a great
aduantage that he made by sale of prisoners taken in _Ireland_. He
respected _Aldred_ Archbishop of _Yorke_, by whom he had bene crowned
King of _England_, as his father. At a time vpon the repulse of a
certaine suit, the Archbishop brake forth into discontentment,
expostulated sharpely against the King, and in a humorous heat offered
to depart. But the King staied him, fell downe at his feet, desired
pardon, and promised satisfaction in the best maner that he could. The
Nobilitie that were present, put the Archbishop in minde that he should
cause the King to arise. Nay (answered the Archb.) let him alone; Let
him still abide at S. _Peters_ feet. So with much adoe he was appeased,
and entreated to accept his suite. And so the name of Saint _Peter_, and
of the Church hath been often vsed as a mantle, to couer the pride,
passions and pleasures of disordered men.
He founded and enlarged many houses of Religion: Hee furnished
Ecclesiasticall dignities, with men of more sufficiencie and worth then
had been vsuall in former times. And because within his owne Dominions
studies did not flourish and thriue, by reason of the turbulent times,
by reason of the often inuasions of barbarous people, whose knowledge
lay chiefly in their fists; hee drew out of _Italy_ and other places
many famous men, both for learning and integritie of life, to wit,
_Lanfranke_, _Anselm_, _Durand_, _Traherne_ and others. These he
honoured, these hee aduanced, to these hee expressed great testimonies
both of fauour and regard.
And yet he preferred _Odo_ his brother by the mothers side to the
Bishopricke of _Baion_, and afterwards created him Earle of _Kent_: A
man proud, vaine, mutinous, ambitious; outragious in oppression, cruelty
and lust; a prophaner of Religion, a manifest contemner of all vertue.
The King being called by occasions into _Normandie_, committed vnto him
the gouernment of the Realme: In which place of credite and command he
furnished himselfe so fully with treasure, that hee aspired to the
Papacie of _Rome_: vpon a prediction then cast abroad, (which commonly
deceiue those that trust vnto them) that the successour of _Hildebrand_
was named _Odo_. So filled with proud hopes, hee purchased a palace and
friends at _Rome_; hee prepared for his iourney, and drew many gentlemen
to be of his traine. But the King returning suddenly out of _Normandie_,
met with him in the _Isle of Wight_, as he was ready to take the Seas.
There hee was arrested, and afterwards charged with infinite
oppressions; also for seducing the Kings subiects to forsake the Realme;
and lastly, for sacrilegious spoyling of many Churches. Hereupon his
treasure was seized, and he was committed to prison; not as Bishop of
_Baion_, but as Earle of _Kent_, and as an accomptant to the King. And
so he remained about foure yeeres, euen vntill the death of the King.
His seruants, some in falshood, and some for feare, discouered such
hidden heapes of his gold, as did exceede all expectation: yea, many
bagges of grinded gold were drawen out of riuers, wherein the Bishop had
caused them for a time to be buried. After this hee was called the Kings
spunge: as being preferred by him to that place of charge, wherein he
might in long time sucke that from others, which should at once be
pressed from himselfe. By this meanes the King had the benefit of his
oppression without the blame; and the people (being no deepe searchers
into secrets of State) were so well pleased with the present punishment,
as they were thereby, although not satisfied, yet well quieted for all
their wrongs.
Towards the end of his reigne he appointed his two sonnes, _Robert_ and
_Henry_, with ioynt authoritie, gouernours of _Normandie_; the one to
suppresse either the insolencie, or leuitie of the other. These went
together to visit the _French_ King, lying at _Conflance_: where
entertaining the time with varietie of disports, _Henry_ played with
_Louis_ then _Daulphine_ of _France_ at Chesse, and did win of him very
much. Here at _Louis_ beganne to growe warme in words, and was therein
little respected by _Henry_. The great impatiencie of the one, and the
small forbearance of the other, did strike in the end such a heate
betweene them, that _Louis_ threw the Chesse-men at _Henries_ face, and
called him the sonne of a bastard. _Henrie_ againe stroke _Louis_ with
the Chesse-boord, drew blood with the blowe, and had presently slaine
him vpon the place, had hee not been stayed by his brother _Robert_.
Hereupon they presently went to horse, and their spurres claimed so good
haste, as they recouered _Pontoise_, albeit they were sharpely pursued
by the _French_.
It had been much for the _French_ King to haue remained quiet, albeit no
prouocations had happened, in regard of his pretence to many pieces
which King _William_ did possesse in _France_. But vpon this occasion he
presently inuaded _Normandie_, tooke the Citie of _Vernon_, and drew
_Robert_, King _Williams_ eldest sonne, to combine with him against his
owne father. On the other side King _William_, who neuer lost anything
by loosing of time, with incredible celeritie passed into _France_;
inuaded the _French_ Kings dominions, wasted and tooke many principall
places of _Zantoigne_ and _Poictou_, returned to _Roan_, and there
reconciled his sonne _Robert_ vnto him. The _French_ King summoned him
to doe his homage for the kingdome of _England_. For the Duchie of
_Normandie_ he offered him homage, but the kingdome of _England_ (he
said) he held of no man, but onely of God, and by his sword. Hereupon
the _French_ King came strongly vpon him; but finding him both ready
and resolute to answere in the field: finding also that his hazard was
greater then his hope; that his losse by ouerthrow would farre surmount
his aduantage by victory; after a few light encounters he retired:
preferring the care to preserue himselfe, before the desire to harme
others.
King _William_ being then both corpulent and in yeeres, was distempered
in body by meanes of those trauailes, and so retired to _Roan_; where
hee remained not perfectly in health. The _French_ King hearing of his
sickenesse, pleasantly said, that hee lay in child-bed of his great
belly. This would haue been taken in mirth, if some other had spoken it;
but comming from an enemie, it was taken in scorne. And as great
personages are most sencible of reproach, and the least touch of honour
maketh a wide and incurable wound; so King _William_ was so nettled with
this ieast, that hee swore _By Gods resurrection and his brightnesse_,
(for this was the vsuall forme of his oath) that so soone as hee should
be churched of that child, he would offer a thousand lights in _France_.
So presently after his recouery hee entred _France_ in armes, tooke the
Citie of _Meux_, set many Townes and Villages and corne fields on fire;
the people abandoning all places where he came, and giuing foorth, that
it was better the nests should be destroyed, then that the birds should
be taken in them. At the last he came before _Paris_, where _Philip_
King of _France_ did then abide: to whom he sent word, that he had
recouered to be on foote, and was walking about, and would be glad
likewise to find him abroad. This enterprise was acted in the moneth of
August, wherein the King was so violent and sharpe, that by reason both
of his trauaile, and of the vnseasonable heate, he fell into a relapse
of his sicknesse. And to accomplish his mishap, in leaping on
horse-backe ouer a ditch, his fat belly did beare so hard vpon the
pommell of his saddle, that hee tooke a rupture in his inner parts. And
so ouercharged with sickenesse, and paine, and disquietnesse of minde,
hee returned to _Roan_; where his sickenesse increased by such dangerous
degrees, that in short time it led him to the period of his dayes.
During the time of his sickenesse hee was much molested in
conscience,[28] for the blood which hee had spilt, and for the seueritie
which he had vsed against the _English_: holding himselfe for that
cause more guilty before God, then glorious among men. Hee spent many
good speeches in reconciling himselfe to God and the world, & in
exhorting others to vertue and Religion. He gaue great summes of money
to the Clergie of _Meux_, and of some other places in _France_, to
repaire the Churches which a little before he had defaced. To some
Monasteries he gaue tenne markes of gold, and to others sixe. To euery
Parish Church hee gaue fiue shillings, and to euery Borough Towne a
hundred pounds for reliefe of the poore. Hee gaue his Crowne, with all
the ornaments therto belonging, to the Church of Saint _Stephen_ in
_Caen_, which hee had founded: for redeeming whereof, King _Henry_ the
first did afterwards giue to the same Church the Mannour of _Brideton_
in _Dorcetshire_. Hee reteined perfect memorie and speach so long as he
reteined any breath. Hee ended his life vpon the ninth day of September:
full both of honour and of age, when hee had reigned twenty yeeres,
eight moneths and sixteene dayes; in the threescore and fourth yeere of
his age.
So soone as he was dead, the chiefe men that were about him went to
horse, and departed forthwith to their owne dwellings: to prouide for
the safety of themselues, and of their families and estates. For all men
were possessed with a marueilous feare, that some dangerous aduentures
would ensue. The seruants and inferiour Officers also fled away; and to
double the basenesse of their disposition, tooke with them whatsoeuer
was portable about the king; his Armour, plate, apparell,
household-stuffe, all things were held as lawfull bootie. Thus the dead
body was not onely abandoned, but left almost naked vpon the ground:
where it remained from prime vntil three of the clocke, neither guarded
nor regarded by any man. In the meane time the Religious persons went in
procession to the Church of S. _Geruase_, & there commended his soule to
God. Then _William_ Archb. of _Roan_ commaunded, that his body should be
caried to _Caen_, to be there buried in the Church of S. _Stephen_. But
hee was so forsaken of all his followers, that there was not any found
who would vndertake either the care or the charge. At the last
_Herlwine_ a countrey Knight, vpon his owne cost, caused the body to be
embalmed and adorned for funerall pompe: then conueyed it by coach to
the mouth of the Riuer _Some_; and so partly by land, and partly by sea
brought it to _Caen_.
Here the Abbot with the Couent of Monks came foorth with all accustomed
ceremonies, to meet the corps: to whom the whole multitude of the
Clergie and Lay-people did adioyne. But when they were in the middest of
their sad solemnities, a fire brake out of a certaine house, and
suddenly embraced a great part of the towne. Hereupon the Kings body was
once againe abandoned; all the people running from it in a headlong
haste; some to saue their goods, others to represse the rage of the
flame, others (as the latest nouelty) to stand and looke on. In the end
a few Moncks returned, and accompanied the Hearse to the Abbey Church.
Afterward all the Bishops and Abbots of _Normandy_ assembled to
solemnize the funerall. And when the diuine Office was ended, and the
coffin of stone set into the earth, in the presbytorie, betweene the
Quire and the Altar (but the body remained vpon the Herse) _Guislebert_
bishop of _Eureux_ made a long Sermon; wherein hee bestowed much breath
in extolling the honourable actions of the King. In the end he
concluded; That forsomuch as it was impossible for a man to liue, much
lesse to gouerne, without offence; First, by reason of the multitude of
a Princes affaires; Secondly, for that he must commit the managing of
many things to the conscience and courtesie of others; Lastly, for that
personall grieuances are many times beneficiall to the maine body of
State; in which case, particular either losses or harmes, are more then
manifoldly recompenced by the preseruation or quiet of the whole: If
therefore any that were present did suppose they had receiued iniurie
from the King, he desired that they would in charitie forgiue him.
When the Bishop had finished his speach, one _Anselme Fitz-Arthur_ stood
vp amongst the multitude, and with a high voice said; _This ground
whereupon wee stand, was sometimes the floore of my fathers house; which
that man of whom you haue spoken, when he was Duke of Normandie, tooke
violently from my father, and afterward founded thereon this Religious
building. This iniustice hee did not by ignorance or ouersight; not vpon
any necessitie of State; but to content his owne couetous desire. Now
therefore I doe challenge this ground as my right; and doe here charge
you, as you will answere it before the fearefull face of Almightie God,
that the body of the spoiler be not couered with the earth of mine
inheritance._
When the Bishops and Noble men that were present heard this, and
vnderstood by the testimony of many that it was true, they agreed to
giue him three pounds presently for the ground that was broken for the
place of burial; and for the residue which he claimed, they vndertooke
he should be fully satisfied. This promise was performed in short time
after, by _Henrie_ the Kings sonne, who onely was present at the
Funerall; at whose appointment _Fitz-Arthur_ receiued for the price of
the same ground one hundred pounds.
Now when the body was to be put into the earth, the sepulchre of stone
which stood within the graue, was hewen somewhat too strait for his fat
belly; whereupon they were constrained to presse it downe with much
strength. By this violence, whether his bowels burst, or whether some
excrements were forced out at their natural passage, such an intolerable
stinck proceeded from him, as neither the perfumes that smoaked in great
abundance, nor any other meanes were able to qualifie. Wherefore the
Priests hasted to finish their office, and the people departed in a sad
silence; discoursing diuersly afterward of all these extraordinarie
accidents.
A man would thinke that a sepulchre thus hardly attained, should not
easily againe bee lost. But it happened otherwise to this vnquiet King;
not destined to rest, either in his life or after his death. For in the
yeere 1562. when _Chastilion_ tooke the Citie of _Caen_, with those
broken troupes that escaped at the battaile of _Dreux_; certaine sauage
Souldiers of diuers nations, led by foure dissolute Captaines, beate
downe the Monument which King _William_ his sonne had built ouer him,
and both curiously and richly adorned with gold & costly stones. Then
they opened his Tombe, & not finding the treasure which they expected,
they threw forth his bones with very great derision & despight. Many
_English_ souldiers were then in the Towne, who were very curious to
gather his bones; whereof some were afterwards brought into _England_.
Hereby the report is conuinced for vaine, that his body was found
vncorrupt, more then foure hundred yeeres after it was buried. Hereby
also it is found to be false, that his body was eight foote in length.
For neither were his bones proportionable to that stature, (as it is
testified by those who saw them) and it is otherwise reported of him by
som who liued in his time; namely, that he was of a good stature, yet
not exceeding the ordinary proportion of men.
And this was the last end of all his fortunes, of all that was mortall
in him besides his fame: whose life is too much extolled by the
_Normans_, and no lesse extenuated by the _English_. Verely, he was a
very great Prince: full of hope to vndertake great enterprises, full of
courage to atchieue them: in most of his actions commendable, and
excusable in all. And this was not the least piece of his Honour, that
the Kings of _England_ which succeeded, did accompt their order onely
from him: not in regard of his victorie in _England_, but generally in
respect of his vertue and valour.
For his entrance was not by way of conquest but with pretence of title
to the Crowne: wherein he had both allowance and aide from diuers
Christian Princes in Europe. He had also his partie within the Realme,
by whose meanes he preuailed against the opposite faction, (as _Caesar_
did against _Pompey_) and not against the entire strength of the State.
Againe, hee did not settle himselfe in the chaire of Soueraignetie, as
one that had reduced all things to the proud power and pleasure of a
Conquerour, but as an vniuersall successor of former Kings, in all the
rights and priuiledges which they did enioy. Hee was receiued for King
by generall consent; He was crowned with all Ceremonies and Solemnities
then in vse; Hee tooke an oath in the presence of the Clergie, the
Nobilitie, and of much people, for defence of the Church, for moderate
and carefull gouernement, and for vpright administration of iustice.
Lastly, during the whole course of his gouernement, the kingdome
receiued no vniuersall change, no losse or diminution of honour. For,
neither were the olde inhabitants expelled, as were the _Britaines_;
neither was the kingdome either subiected or annexed to a greater: but
rather it receiued encrease of honour, in that a lesse State was
adioyned vnto it. The change of customes was not violent and at once,
but by degrees, and with the silent approbation of the _English_; who
haue alwaies been inclinable to accommodate themselues to the fashions
of _France_. The grieuances and oppressions were particular, and with
some appearance either of iustice, or of necessitie for the common
quiet; such as are not vnusuall in any gouernement moderately seuere. So
the change was chiefly in the stemme and familie of the King: which
whether it be wrought by one of the same nation (as it was in _France_
by _Pepine_ and _Capett_) or by a stranger, (as in the same Countrey by
_Henry_ 5. and _Henry_ 6. Kings of _England_) it bringeth no
disparagement in honour; it worketh no essentiall change. The State
still remained the same, the solid bodie of the State remained still
_English_: the comming in of many _Normans_, was but as Riuers falling
into the Ocean; which change not the Ocean, but are confounded with the
waters thereof.
This King had by his wife _Matild_, daughter to _Baldwine_ Earle of
_Flanders_, foure sonnes; _Robert_, _Richard_, _William_ and _Henrie_:
Hee had also fiue daughters; _Cicely_, _Constance_, _Adela_, _Margaret_
and _Elianor_.
_Robert_ his eldest sonne surnamed _Courtcuise_, by reason of the
shortnesse of his thighs, succeeded him in the duchie of _Normandie_. He
was a man of exceeding honourable courage and spirit, for which cause he
was so esteemed by the Christian Princes in the great warre against the
_Saracens_, that when they had subdued the Citie and territorie of
_Hierusalem_, they offered the kingdome thereof first vnto him. Yet
afterwards, either by the malice of his Fortune, or for that he was both
suddaine and obstinate in his owne aduise (two great impediments that
valour cannot thriue) he receiued many foiles of his enemies, which
shall be declared in their proper place. Before the King made his
descent into _England_, hee gaue the duchie of _Normandie_ vnto him: but
whether he did this onely to testifie his confidence, or whether
afterwards his purpose changed, being often demanded to performe this
gift, he would neither deny nor accomplish his word, but enterposed many
excuses and delayes; affirming that he was not so surely setled in
_England_, but the duchie of _Normandie_ was necessary vnto him, both
for supply for his seruices (which he found like _Hydraes_ heads to
multiply by cutting off) and also for an assured place for retreit, in
case hee should be ouercharged with extremities. Hereupon _Robert_
vnable to linger and pine in hopes, declared openly against him in
armes. _Philip_ King of _France_ was ready to put fuell to the flame;
who as he neuer fauoured in his owne iudgement the prosperous encreases
of the King of _England_, so then he was vigilant to embrace all
occasions, either to abate or limit the same. And thus _Robert_ both
encouraged and enabled by the King of _France_, inuaded _Normandie_, and
permitted his souldiers licentiously to wast; to satisfie those by
spoile, which by pay he was not able to maintaine. At the last he
encountred the King his father in a sharpe conflict, before the castle
of _Gerberie_, wherein the King was vnhorsed and wounded in the arme;
his second sonne _William_ was also hurt, and many of his souldiers
slaine. And albeit _Robert_ so soone as he knew his father by his voyce,
allighted forthwith, mounted him vpon his owne horse, and withdrew him
out of the medley; yet did he cast vpon his sonne a cruell curse, which
lay so heauie vpon him, that he neuer prospered afterward in any thing
which hee vndertooke. And although after this he was reconciled to his
father, and imployed by him in seruices of credit and weight, yet did
the King often bewray of him an vnquiet conceit, often did he ominate
euill vnto him: yea, a little before his death he openly gaue forth,
_That it was a miserable Countrey which should be subiect to his
dominion, for that he was a proud and foolish knaue, and to be long
scourged by cruell Fortune_.
_Richard_ had erected the good expectation of many, as well by his
comely countenance and behauiour, as by his liuely and generous spirit.
But he died yong by misaduenture, as he was hunting within the
New-forrest, before he had made experiment of his worth. Some affirme
that he was goared to death by the Deere of that Forrest, for whose
walke his father had dispeopled that large compasse of ground: others
report, that as he rode in chase, hee was hanged vpon the bough of a
tree by the chaps: others more probably doe write, that he perished by a
fal from his horse. He was buried at _Winchester_ with this inscription:
_Hic iacet Richardus filius Wilielmi senioris Berniae Dux_.
_William_ did succeed next to his father in the Kingdome of _England_.
To _Henry_, the King gaue at the time of his death fiue thousand pounds
out of his treasure; but gaue him neither dignitie nor lands:
foretelling, that hee should enioy the honour of both his brothers in
time, and farre excel them both in dominion and power. Whether this was
deuised vpon euent; or whether some doe prophesie at their death; or
whether it was coniecturally spoken; or whether to giue contentment for
the present; it fell out afterward to be true. For hee succeeded
_William_ in the Kingdome of _England_, and wrested _Normandie_ out of
the possession of _Robert_. Of these two I shall write more fully
hereafter.
His daughter _Cicelie_ was Abbesse of _Caen_ in _Normandie_. _Constance_
was married to _Allen Fergant_ Earle of _Britaine_. _Adela_ was wife to
_Stephen_ Earle of _Blois_, to whom she bare _Stephen_, who after the
death of _Henry_ was King of _England_. _Margaret_ was promised in
marriage to _Harold_; she died before hee attained the Kingdome, for
which cause he held himselfe discharged of that oath which he had made
to the Duke her father. _Elianor_ was betroathed to _Alphonso_ King of
_Gallicia_; but she desired much to die a Virgine: for this she daily
prayed, and this in the end she did obtaine. After her death her knees
appeared brawnie and hard, with much kneeling at her deuotions.
Assuredly it will be hard to find in any one Familie, both greater
Valour in sonnes, and more Vertue in daughters.
In the beginning of this Kings reigne, either no great accidents did
fall, or else they were obscured with the greatnesse of the change: none
are reported by the writers of that time.
In the fourth yeere of his reigne, _Lanfranke_ Abbot of _Caen_ in
_Normandie_, but borne in _Pauie_, a Citie of _Lumbardie_, was made
Archbishop of _Canterbury_: And _Thomas_ a _Norman_, and _Chanon_ of
_Bayon_ was placed in the Sea of _Yorke_. Between these two a
controuersie did arise at the time of their consecration, for prioritie
in place: but this contention was quieted by the King, and _Thomas_ for
the time subscribed obedience to the Archb. of _Canterbury_. After this
they went to _Rome_ for their Palles, where the question for Primacie
was againe renued, or as some affirme, first moued before Pope
_Alexander_. The Pope vsed them both with honorable respect, and
especially _Lanfrank_, to whom he gaue two Palles, one of honour, and
the other of loue: but their controuersie he referred to be determined
in _England_.
About two yeeres after it was brought before the King and the Clergie at
_Windsore_. The Archbishop of _Yorke_ alleadged, that when the
_Britaines_ receiued the Christian faith, in the time of _Lucius_ their
King _Eleutherius_ then Bishop of _Rome_, sent _Faganus_ and _Damianus_
vnto them, who ordeined 28. Bishops, and two Archbishops within the
Realme, one of _London_, and the other of _Yorke_. Vnder these the
Church of _Britaine_ was gouerned almost three hundred yeeres, vntill
they were subdued by the _Saxons_. The _Saxons_ remained Infidels vntill
_Gregorie_ Bishop of _Rome_ sent _Augustine_ vnto them. By his preaching
_Ethelbert_ King of _Kent_ was first conuerted to the Christian faith:
By reason whereof _Augustine_ was made Archbishop of _Douer_, by
appointment of Pope _Gregorie_; who sent vnto him certaine Palles with
his letter from _Rome_. By this letter it is euident, that _Gregorie_
intended to reduce the Church of the _Saxons_ to the same order wherein
it was among the _Britaines_; namely, to be vnder twelue Bishops and two
Archbishops; one of _London_ and the other of _Yorke_. Indeede he gaue
to _Augustine_ during his life, authority and iurisdiction ouer all
Bishops and Priests in _England_: but after his decease he ioyneth these
two Metropolitanes in equall degree, to constitute Bishops, to ouersee
the Church, to consult and dispose of such things as appertaine to the
gouernement thereof, as in former times among the _Britaines_. Betweene
these he put no distinction in honour, but only as they were in
prioritie of time: and as he appointeth _London_ to be consecrated by no
Bishop, but of his own Synod, so he expresseth, that the Bishop of
_Yorke_ should not bee subiect to the Bishop of _London_. And albeit
_Augustine_ for the reason before mentioned, translated the Sea from
_London_ to _Douer_, yet if _Gregorie_ had intended to giue the same
authoritie to the successours of _Augustine_ which hee gaue vnto him, he
would haue expressed it in his Epistle: but in that he maketh no mention
of his successours, he concludeth, or rather excludeth them by his
silence.
The Archbishop of _Canterbury_ alleaged, that from the time of
_Augustine_, vntill the time of _Bede_, (which was about 140. yeeres)
the Bishops of _Canterburie_ (which in ancient time (said he) was called
_Douer_) had the Primacie ouer the whole land of _Britaine_, and
_Ireland_; that they did call the Bishops of _Yorke_ to their Councels,
which diuers times they kept within the Prouince of _Yorke_; that some
Bishops of _Yorke_ they did constitute, some excommunicate, and some
remoue. He alleaged also diuers priuiledges granted by Princes for the
Primacie of that Sea; diuers graunted from the Apostolike Sea to
confirme this dignitie in the successours of _Augustine_: that it is
reason to receiue directions of well liuing, from whence we first
receiued directions of right beleeuing; & therfore as the Bishop of
_Canterbury_ was subiect to the Bishop of _Rome_, because hee had his
faith from thence; for the very same cause the Bishop of _Yorke_ should
be in subiection to the Bishop of _Canterbury_: that like as the Lord
said that to all the Bishops of _Rome_, which hee said to S. Peter; so
that which _Gregorie_ said to _Augustine_, hee said likewise to all his
successours. And whereas much is spoken of the Bishop of _London_, what
is that to the Archbishop of _Canterbury_? For, neither is it certaine
that _Augustine_ was euer resident at _London_, neither that _Gregorie_
appointed him so to be.
In the end it was decreed, That _Yorke_ for that time should be subiect
to _Canterburie_; that wheresoeuer within _England_ the Archbishop of
_Canterburie_ should hold his Councell, the Archbishop of _Yorke_ should
come vnto it, with the Bishops of his Prouince, and be obedient to his
decrees: that when the Archbishop of _Canterburie_ should decease, the
Archbishop of _Yorke_ should goe to _Canterburie_, to consecrate him
that should succeed: that if the Archbishop of _Yorke_ should decease,
his successour should goe to _Canterbury_, or to such place as the
Archbishop of _Canterburie_ should appoint, there to receiue his
Consecration, making first his oath of Canonicall obedience. And thus
was the contention for this first time taken vp; but in succeeding times
it was often renued, and much busied the Clergie of the Realme.
In the ninth yeere of the reigne of King _William_ a Councell was holden
at _London_, where another matter of like qualitie and nature was
decreed: namely, that Bishops should translate their Sees from villages
to Cities; whereupon in short time after, Bishops Sees were remoued,
from _Selese_ to _Chichester_, from _Cornewall_ to _Exeter_, from
_Wells_ to _Bath_, from _Shirbourne_ to _Salisburie_, from _Dorcester_
to _Lincolne_, from _Lichfield_ to _Chester_, and from thence againe to
_Couentree_. And albeit the Archbishop of _Yorke_ did oppose against the
erecting of a Cathedrall Church in _Lincolne_, because he challenged
that Citie to be of his Prouince; yet _Remigius_ Bishop of _Dorchester_,
being strong both in resolution and in friends, did prosecute his
purpose to effect. Not long before the Bishopricke of _Lindafferne_
otherwise called _Holy land_, vpon the riuer _Tweed_, had bene
translated to _Durhame_.
In the tenth yeere of his reigne the cold of Winter was exceeding
memorable, both for sharpenesse and for continuance: For the earth
remained hard frozen from the beginning of Nouember, vntill the middest
of April then ensuing.
In the 15. yere a great earthquake happened in the month of April;
strange for the strong trembling of the earth, but more strange for the
dolefull and hideous roaring which it yeelded foorth.
In the 20. yeere there fell such abundance of raine, that the Riuers did
greatly ouerflow in all parts of the Realme. The springs also rising
plentifully in diuers hils, so softned and decaied the foundations of
them, that they fell downe, whereby some villages were ouerthrowne. By
this distemperature of weather much cattel perished, much corne vpon the
ground was either destroyed, or greatly empaired. Herehence ensued,
first a famine, and afterwards a miserable mortalitie of men.
And that all the Elements might seeme to haue conspired the calamity of
the Realme, the same yeere most of the principall Cities in _England_
were lamentably deformed with fire. At _London_ a fire began at the
entry of the West gate, which apprehending certaine shops and
Ware-houses, wherein was Merchandise apt to burne, it was at once begun
and suddenly at the highest. Then being caried with a strong wind; and
the Citie apt to maintaine the flame, as well by reason of the crooked
and narrow streets, as for that the buildings at that time had open and
wide windowes, and were couered with base matter fit to take fire, the
mischiefe spread more swiftly then the remedies could follow. So it
raged vntill it came to the East gate, prostrated houses and Churches
all the way, being the most grieuous that euer as yet hath happened to
that Citie. The Church of S. _Paul_ was at that time fired; Whereupon
_Maurice_ then Bishop of _London_, began the foundation of the new
Church of S. _Paul_. A worke so admirable, that many did iudge, it would
neuer haue bene finished; yet all might easily esteeme thereby his
magnanimitie, his high erected hopes, his generous loue and honour to
Religion. The King gaue towards the building of the East end of this
Church, the choise stones of his Castle at the West end of the Citie,
vpon the bancke of the Riuer Thames; which Castle at the same time was
also fired: in place whereof _Edward Killwarby_ Archbishop of
_Canterburie_ did afterwards found a Monasterie of blacke Friers. The
King also gaue the Castle of _Storford_, and all the lands which thereto
belonged, to the same _Maurice_, and to his successours in that See. And
doubtlesse nothing more then either parcimonious or prophane expending
the Treasures of the Church, hath since those times much dried vp those
fountaines which first did fill them.
After the death of _Maurice_, _Richard_ his next Successour, as well in
vertue as in dignitie, bestowed all the Rents rising out of this
Bishopricke, to aduance the building of this Church; maintaining
himselfe by his Patrimonie and friendes: and yet all which hee could
doe, made no great shewe: so that the finishing of this worke was left
to many other succeeding Bishops. Hee purchased the ground about the
Church whereupon many buildings did stand, and inclosed the same with a
strong wall of stone for a place of buriall. It seemeth that this wall
was afterwards either battered and torne in some ciuill warres, or else
by negligence suffered to decay: for that a graunt was made by King
_Edward_ the second, that the Church-yard of Saint _Pauls_ should bee
enclosed with a wall, because of the robberies and murthers that were
there committed. Many parts of this wall remaine at this time, on both
sides of the Church, but couered for the most part with dwelling houses.
The same yeere in Whitsun-weeke, the King honoured his sonne _Henrie_
with the order of Knighthood. What Ceremonies the King then vsed it is
not certainly knowen: but before his time the custome among the
_Saxons_ was thus. First, hee who should receiue the order of
Knighthood, confessed himselfe in the euening to a Priest. Then hee
continued all that night in the Church, watching and applying himselfe
to his priuate deuotions. The next morning he heard Masse, and offered
his sword vpon the Altar. After the Gospel was read, the sword was
hallowed, and with a benediction put about his necke. Lastly, he
communicated the mysteries of the blessed body of Christ, and from that
time remained a lawfull Souldier or Knight. This custome of Consecrating
Knights the _Normans_ did not onely abrogate, but abhorre; not for any
euill that was therein, but because it was not altogether their owne.
This yeere in a Prouince of _Wales_ called _Rosse_, the Sepulchre of
_Wawyn_, otherwise called _Gawen_, was found vpon the Sea shore. Hee was
sisters sonne to _Arthur_ the great King of the _Britaines_; a man
famous in our _Britaine_ Histories, both for ciuill courtesie, and for
courage in the field. I cannot but esteeme the report for fabulous, that
his bodie was fourteene foote in length. I doe rather coniecture that
one credulous writer did take that for the length of his body, which
happily might bee the length of his tombe.
It is constantly affirmed that the ground whereon the _English_ and the
_Normans_ did combate, doth shew after euery raine manifest markes of
blood vpon the grasse: which if it was not a proprietie of the soyle
before, it is hard now to assigne, either from what naturall cause it
doth proceede, or what it should supernaturally portend.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
K. WILLIAM
THE SECOND,
sirnamed RVFVS.
King WILLIAM the Victor when hee drew towards the end of his dayes,
commended the Kingdome of _England_ to his second sonne _William_: with
many blessings, with many admonitions, with many prayers for the
prosperous successe of his succession. And because the presence of the
next successour is of greatest moment to establish affaires, the King a
little before his passage to death, dispatched him into _England_, with
letters vnder his owne Seale to _Lanfranck_ then Archbishop of
_Canterbury_: a man highly esteemed in forraine Countreys, but with the
Cleargie and vulgare people of the Realme, his authoritie was absolute.
In these letters the King expressed great affection and care towards his
sonne _William_; commending him with many kind words, for his
sufficiencies, for diuers vertues; especially for that hee did alwayes
stand firmely by him, alwayes declare himselfe both a faithfull Subiect
and dutifull sonne. It was also coniectured by some, that the King was
guided in this choise, no lesse by his iudgement, then by his affection:
for that he esteemed the fierce disposition of his sonne _William_ more
fit to gouerne a people not well setled in subiection, then the flexible
and milde nature of his eldest sonne _Robert_. So _William_ taking his
last leaue of his father, who was then taking his last leaue of this
world, iourneyed towards _England_; and in short time arriued at the
port called _Whitesand_, where he receiued the first report of his
fathers death. Hereupon with all speed hee posted to _Lanfranck_,
deliuered his fathers letters, and foorthwith was declared King, vpon
the 9. day of September, in the yere 1087. and vpon the first of October
next ensuing was by the same _Lanfranck_, with al ceremonies and
solemnities perteining to that action, crowned at _Westminster_.
_Robert_, either by negligence and want of foresight, or by the
perpetuall malice of his destinie, or happily not without his fathers
contriuance, was absent in _Germanie_, whilest his yonger brother
_William_ did thus possesse himselfe, both of the Kingdome of his
father, and of his treasure. Otherwise he wanted neither pretence, nor
purpose, nor fauour of friends to haue empeached his brothers
proceedings. For it was then doubted by many, and since hath bene by
many debated; whether in any case, vpon any cause or consideration
whatsoeuer, a King hath power to disinherite his eldest sonne, and to
appoint another to succeed in his estate.
That a King may aduance any of his sonnes to bee his successour, without
respect of prioritie in birth, there seemeth to want neither warrant of
example, nor weight of authoritie. _Dauid_[29] a man greatly prooued and
approoued by God, did preferre _Solomon_[30] to succeede him, before his
eldest sonne _Adonia_. And in like sort _Rehoboam_ the sonne of
_Solomon_, appointed the yongest of all his sonnes to succeed him in the
Kingdome.[31] So some Lawyers affirme, That a King may determine in his
life, which of his sonnes shall reigne after him.
But this must be vnderstood, either when a State is newly raised to the
title of a kingdome, or else when by Conquest, Vsurpation, or some other
meanes of change, the gouernment thereof is newly transferred from one
stemme to another: For then because there is no certaine Law or Custome
of succession in force, the right seemeth to depend vpon the disposition
of the Prince. And yet euen in this case, the eldest or neerest cannot
be excluded without iust cause. For so when _Iacob_[32] depriued his
eldest sonne _Reuben_ of his priuiledge of birth, he expressed the
cause, For that he had defiled his fathers bed; which fact of his
_Hierome_ applieth to the case in question. So when _Ptolemie_[33] the
first King of _Egypt_ commended the State to his yongest sonne, he
yeelded a reason for that which he did. So _Henrie_ the fourth Emperour,
crowned _Henrie_ his yonger sonne King, reiecting _Conrade_ his eldest
sonne, for that hee had borne armes against him, and ioyned in league
with his open enemies.
But when by expresse Lawe or long grounded Custome the Succession of a
State is established to the eldest sonne, the best approoued
interpreters of the Canon and Ciuill law doe conclude,[34] that the
father hath no power to inuert or peruert that course of order. For
parents may debarre their children of that which proceedeth from
themselues, of that which dependeth vpon their appointment; but of that
which is due by nature,[35] by the immutable law of the State, the
parents can haue no power to dispose. When by a fundamentall Lawe or
Custome of State, Succession is annexed to the dignity of a Crowne,
according to prioritie in birth, it followeth, that so soone as the
first borne commeth into light, the right of succession is fixed in
him;[36] not in hope onely, but also in habite; whereof neither the
father nor any other can dispossesse him.
And therefore when _Prusias_[37] intended to depriue his eldest sonne
_Nicomedes_ of his prerogatiue of birth, and to preferre his yonger
sonnes, which he had by another wife, in succession before him, he could
not assure it by any meanes, but by determining the death of
_Nicomedes_; which _Nicomedes_ to preuent, dispoiled his father both of
kingdom and of life. _Ptolemie_ the first King of _Egypt_[38] of that
name, who after the death of _Alexander_ the great possessed himselfe
of _Egypt_, & part of _Arabia_, and of _Affrick_, left his kingdom to
the yongest of his sons: but afterward when _Ptolemie_, surnamed
_Phiscon_,[39] vpon the importunity of his wife _Cleopatra_, attempted
the like, the kingdome being then setled in succession, the people
opposed, & reuersed his order after his death. So _Pepine_[40] after hee
had made seisure of the kingdome of _France_, & ordered all things which
he thought necessary for the suerty therof, disposed the succession
therein by his Testament; leauing the Realme of _Noion_ to his sonne
_Charles_, and to _Carloman_ his other sonne the Realme of _Soissons_.
The like was done by some other of the first Kings of his race. But
since that time the custome hath been strongly stablished, that the
kingdome passeth entirely to the eldest sonne, and possessions are
assigned to the rest vnder the name of _Appanage_. And therefore the
_French_[41] writers affirme, that the eldest sonne of _France_ cannot
be depriued of succession, vpon any cause of ingratitude against his
parents; and that if the King should institute his eldest sonne,[42] yet
cannot hee take the kingdome by force of his fathers guift, but onely by
the immutable law of the Realme. Yea, _Girard_ writeth of _Charles_ the
simple, that hee was King of _France_[43] before hee was borne. And in
this regard the _Glossographer_[44] vpon the Decrees noteth, that the
sonne of a King may bee called King during the life of his father, as
wanting nothing but administration. And the same also doth _Seruius_
note out of _Virgil_, where hee saith of _Ascanius_: _regemq;
requirunt_, his father _Aeneas_ being then aliue.
Now then, for that the right of Succession to the Crowne of _England_
was not at that time so surely setled as it hath been since; but had
waued in long vncertainetie: First, in the _Heptarchie_ of the _Saxons_
and _English_, afterward betweene the _English_ and the _Danes_, and was
then newly possessed by the _Normane_, and that chiefly by the sword:
For that also _Robert_ the Kings eldest sonne gaue iust cause of
offence, by bearing armes against his father; it may seeme that the King
might lawfully direct the succession to his second sonne. And yet,
because as _Herodotus_[45] saith, _It is a generall custome amongst all
men, that the first in birth is next in succession_; because as
_Baldus_[46] affirmeth, _Semper fuit, & semper erit, &c. Alwayes it hath
been, and alwayes it shall bee, that the first borne succeedeth in a
kingdome_; because as S. _Hierome_[47] writeth, _A kingdome is due vnto
the first borne_; and as S. _Chrysostome_[48] saith, _The first borne is
to bee esteemed more honourable then the rest_; whereupon diuers Lawyers
obserue, that the word _Senior_[49] is often times taken for a Lord.
Lastly, because this precedencie both in honour, and in right seemeth to
be the Law of all nations, deriued from the Law of Nature, and expresly
either instituted or approoued by the voice of God: First, where he said
to _Cain_[50] of his yonger brother _Abel_; _His desires shall be
subiect to thee, and thou shalt haue dominion ouer him_: Secondly,[51]
where he forbiddeth the father to disinherite the first sonne of his
double portion, because by right of birth it is due vnto him: Lastly,
where hee maketh choice of the first borne to be sanctified and
consecrated to himselfe;[52] it hath almost neuer happened that this
order hath been broken, that the neerest haue bene excluded from
Succession in State, but it hath been followed with tragicall euents.
Yea, albeit the eldest sonne be vnfit to beare rule, albeit hee be
vnable to gouerne either others or himselfe; as if hee be in a high
degree furious, or foolish, or otherwise defectiue in body or in minde,
(vnlesse he degenerate from humane condition) yet can he not therefore
be excluded from succession:[53] because it is due vnto him, not in
respect of abilitie, but by reason of his prioritie of birth. As for the
kingdom, it shall better be preserued by the gouernment of a Protector
(as in diuers like causes it is both vsual and fit) then by receiuing
another Prince:[54] as well for other respects, as for that by cutting
off continuance in the Royall descent, by interrupting the setled order
of gouernment, by making a breach in so high a point of State,
opportunitie is opened both for domesticall disturbances, and for
inuasions from abroad: whereupon greater inconueniences do vsually
ensue, then did euer fall by insufficiencie of a Prince. For if these
pretenses may be allowed for good, what aspiring Subiect, what
encroaching enemy, finding themselues furnished with meanes, will not be
ready to rise into ambitious hopes? _Gabriel_ the yonger brother of the
house of _Saluse_, kept his eldest brother in prison, vsurped his
estate, giuing foorth to the people that he was mad. And seldome hath
any vsurpation happened, but vpon pretence of insufficiencie in
gouernment. Assuredly, if these principall points of Principalitie be
not punctually obserued, the ioynts of a State are loosened, the
foundation is shaken, the gates are opened for all disorders, to rise
vp, to rush in, to prosper, to preuaile.
Hereupon _Medon_[55] the eldest sonne of _Codrus_, albeit he was lame
and otherwise defectiue, was by sentence of the Oracle of _Apollo_
preferred to succeed his father in the kingdome of _Athens_, before
_Neleus_ his yonger brother. So when _Alexandrides_[56] King of _Sparta_
left two sonnes, _Cleomenes_ the eldest, distracted in wits, and
_Doricus_ the yongest, both able and enclined to all actions of honour;
the _Spartans_ acknowledged _Cleomenes_ for their King. _Agisilaus_ the
famous King of _Sparta_ was also lame, as _Plutarch_[57] and _Prob.
Aemilius_ do report; _Orosius_ saith, that the _Spartans_ did rather
choose to haue their King halt, then their Kingdome. And therefore when
_Lisander_[58] moued them to decree, that the worthiest and not alwayes
the next in blood of the line of _Hercules_ should reigne, he found no
man to second his aduise. _Aristobulus_[59] and _Hircanus_ after a long
and cruel contention for the Kingdome of _Iewrie_, committed their
controuersie to the arbitrement of _Pompey_: _Hircanus_ alledged, that
hee was the eldest brother; _Aristobulus_ obiected, that _Hircanus_ was
insufficient to gouerne: but _Pompey_ gaue iudgement for _Hircanus_. The
like iudgement did _Annibal_[60] giue for the kingdome of that Countrey
which is now called _Sauoy_; restoring _Brancus_[61] to his State, from
which he had bene expelled by his yonger brother. And although
_Phirrus_[62] did appoint that sonne to succeed, whose sword had the
best edge; yet was the eldest acknowledged, who bare the least
reputation for valour.
_Ladislaus_[63] King of _Hungarie_ left by his brother _Geysa_ two
Nephewes; _Colomannus_ the eldest, who was lame, bunch-backed,
crab-faced, blunt-sighted, bleare-eyed, a dwarfe, a stammerer, and
(which is more) a Priest; and _Almus_ the yongest, a man of comely
presence, and furnished with many princely vertues: In regard of these
natural prerogatiues _Ladislaus_ appointed _Almus_ to succeed; but in
regard of the prerogatiue in blood, the _Hungarians_ receiued
_Colomannus_ for their King. _Barbatius_[64] writeth, that _Galeace_
Duke of _Milane_ did oft times expresse his griefe, for that he could
not preferre in succession _Philip Maria_ his yongest sonne, before
_Iohn_ his eldest; for that he seemed the most sufficient to vndertake
the manage of the State. _Girard_[65] affirmeth that it hath bene the
custome of the _French_, to honour their Kings whatsoeuer they are;
whether wise or foolish, valiant or weake; esteeming the name of King to
be sacred by whomsoeuer it be borne. And therefore they obeyed not only
_Charles_ the simple, but _Charles_ the sixt also; who reigned many
yeres in plaine distraction of his mind. It was an ancient custome in
_Scotland_, that the most sufficient of the blood of _Fergusus_[66] was
receiued for King; but such warres, murthers, and other mischiefes did
thereupon ensue, that a law was made vnder _Kenet_ the third, and
afterwards confirmed by _Millcolumbus_, that the nighest in blood should
alwayes succeede. And accordingly the Scots refused not for their King
_Iohn_ the eldest sonne of _Robert_ the second, albeit he was borne out
of marriage, and did halt, and was both in wit and in courage dull.
For what if he who is debarred for disabilitie shall afterward haue a
sonne free from all defects?[67] It is without question that the right
of the Kingdome should deuolue vnto him: for that the calamitie of
parents doeth not preiudice their children, especially in their
naturall rights, which they may claime from the person of former
ancestors. But what if another be in possession of the Kingdome?[68]
will he readily giue place to this right? will he readily abandon that
honour, for which men will not spare, to climbe ouer all difficulties,
to vndergoe all dangers; to put their goods, their liues, their soules
in aduenture? If a man be once mounted into the chaire of Maiestie, it
standeth not, I will not say with his dignitie, but with his safetie, to
betake himselfe to a priuate State; as well for the eternall iealousie
wherein he shall be held, as for the enuie which shall be borne against
him vpon many of his actions: So as what some few would not doe for
ambition, the same they must doe to preserue themselues. Hereupon it
will follow, that the possession of the Kingdome being in one, and the
right in another; disunions, factions, warres may easily ensue.
It is inconuenient (I grant) to be vnder a King who is defectiue in body
or in mind; but it is a greater inconuenience, by disturbing a setled
forme of gouernment, to open an entrance for all disorders; wherein
ambition and insolencie (two riotous humours) may range at large. For
as euill is generally of that nature, that it cannot stand, but by
supportance of another euill; and so multiplieth in it selfe, vntill it
doth ruine with the proper weight: so mindes hauing once exceeded the
strict bounds of obedience, cease not to strengthen one bouldnesse by
another, vntil they haue inuolued the whole State in confusion.
Bvt now to returne to the person and gouernment of this King _William_.
He was a man of meane stature, thicke and square bodied, his belly
swelling somewhat round; his face was red, his haire deepely yealow, by
reason whereof he was called _Rufus_; his forehead foure square like a
window, his eyes spotted and not one like the other; his speech
vnpleasant and not easily vttered, especially when he was mooued with
anger. He was of great abilitie in body, as well for naturall strength,
as for hardinesse to endure all ordinary extremities both of trauaile
and of want. In Armes he was both expert and aduenturous; full of inward
brauerie and fiercenesse; neuer dismayed, alwayes forward, and for the
most part fortunate; in counsaile sudden, in performance a man; not
doubting to vndertake any thing which inuincible valour durst promise to
atchieue. Hee had bene bred with the sword; alwayes in action, alwayes
on the fauourable hand of Fortune: so as, albeit he was but yong, yet
was he in experience well grounded; for inuention subtill, in counsaile
quicke, in execution resolute; wise to foresee a danger, and expedite to
auoid it. In a word, the generall reputation of his valour and
celeritie, made him esteemed one of the best Chiefetaines in his time.
His behauiour was variable and inconstant; earnest in euery present
passion, and for the most part accompanying the disposition of his mind,
with outward demonstrations. Of nature he was rough, haughtie,
obstinate, inuincible, which was much enlarged both by his soueraigntie
and youth: so singular in his owne conceit, that he did interprete it to
his dishonour, that the world should deeme, that he did not gouerne by
his owne iudgement. In publicke he composed his countenance to a stately
terrour; his face sowerly swelling, his eyes truculent, his voyce
violent and fierce, scarce thinking himselfe Maiesticall in the glasse
of his vnderstanding, but when he flashed feare from his presence. And
yet in priuate he was so affable and pleasant, that he approched neere
the degree of leuitie: much giuen to scoffing, and passing ouer many of
his euill actions with a ieast. In all the other carriages of his life,
he maintained no stable and constant course; but declared himselfe for
euery present, as well in vertue as in vice, strong, violent, extreeme.
In the beginning of his reigne he was esteemed a most accomplished
Prince; and seemed not so much of power to bridle himselfe from vice, as
naturally disposed to abhorre it. Afterwards, either with variation of
times, or yeelding to the pleasures which prosperity vseth to ingender
euen in moderate minds, or perhaps his nature beginning to disclose that
which hee had cunningly concealed before, corruptions crept vp, and he
waued vncertainely betweene vertue and vice. Lastly, being imboldned by
euill teachers, and by continuance both of prosperitie and rule, he is
said to haue made his height a priuiledge of loosenesse, and to haue
abandoned himselfe to all licentious demeanour; wherein he seemed little
to regard God, and nothing man.
Assuredly, there is no greater enemie to great men, then too great
prosperitie in their affaires; which taketh from them all iudgement and
rule of themselues; which maketh them ful of libertie, and bould to doe
euill. And yet I cannot conceiue that this King was so bould, so
carelesse, so shamelesse in vices, as many writers doe report. It is
certaine that hee doubted of some points of Religion, at that time
without any great contradiction professed; and namely, of praying to
Saints, worshipping of Reliques, & such like. It is certain also, that
out of policie in State, he endeuoured to abate the tumorous greatnes of
the Clergie at that time; as well in riches, as in authority and power
with the people: and that he attributed not so much to the Sea of
_Rome_, as diuers Kings before him had done. Insomuch as he restrained
his subiects from going to _Rome_, and withheld the annuall paiment of
_Peter_ pence, and was oftentimes heard to giue foorth, that _they
follow not the trace of S. Peter, they greedily gape after gifts and
rewards, they retein not his power, whose pietie they do not imitate_.
These were causes sufficient for the writers of his time (who were for
the most part Clergie-men) to enlarge his vices beyond the trueth, to
surmise many vices vntruely, to wrest his true vertues to be vices.
And this I doe the rather coniecture, for that I doe not find his
particular actions of like nature, with the generall imputation which is
cast vpon him; for that also I finde the chiefe of these generall
imputations to bee these:[69] _That he was grieuous to the Church, of no
deuotion to God, preferring respect of temporall state before the rules
of the Gospel_. Verely, it is hard to doe that which will beare a cleere
beauty in the eyes of all men; and if our actions haue not the fauour of
time, and the opinion of those men who doe estimate and report them,
they are much dimmed with disgrace.[70] Out of all doubt he was a
magnanimous Prince, mercifull and liberall, and in martiall affaires
most expert, diligent and prosperous; wise to contriue his best
aduantage, and most couragious to atchieue it. But two things chiefly
obscured his glory; one, the incomparable greatnesse of his father, to
whom he did immediatly succeede; the other was the prowesse of those
men, against whom he did contend in armes; especially of _Malcolme_ King
of _Scots_, and of _Robert_ Duke of _Normandie_. To these I may adde,
that hee died in the principall strength and flourish of his age, before
his iudgement had full command ouer his courage.
Many doe attribute his excellent beginnings to _Lanfranck_ Archb. of
_Canterburie_: who during the time of his life, partly by authoritie,
and partly by aduise, supported the vnstable yeeres and disposition of
the King: which after the death of _Lanfranck_ returned by degrees to
their proper sway. But I do rather attribute many of his first vertues
to the troubles which happened in the very entrance of his reigne; which
partly by employment, and partly by feare, held his inclination in some
restraint. For _Odo_ Bishop of _Baion_ and Earle of _Kent_, the Kings
vncle by the mothers side, had drawen the greatest part of all the
Prelates and Nobilitie that were _Normans_, into a dangerous
confederacie against the King; to deiect him from his State, and to
aduance _Robert_ his elder brother for their King.
The secret cause of this conspiracie was partly vpon a generall
discontentment, at the great, though worthy estimation and authoritie (a
most capitall offence in the eye of enuie) of _Lanfrank_ Archbishop of
_Canterburie_; by means whereof many of the conspirators liued in farre
meaner reputation, then their ambitious minds could easily breake: but
chiefly it was vpon a more particular grudge, which _Odo_ did beare
against the same _Lanfranck_; because by his perswasion, _Odo_ had been
committed to prison by King _William_ the elder. For when the King
complained to _Lanfranck_ of the intolerable both auarice and ambition
of his brother _Odo_, the Archbishop gaue aduise, that hee should bee
restrained of his libertie. And when the King doubted, how he being a
Bishop, might be committed to prison, without impeaching the priuiledges
of the Church; indeede answered _Lanfranck_, you may not imprison the
Bishop of _Baion_, but you may doe what you please with the Earle of
_Kent_.
The publike and open pretenses were these. _Robert_ Duke of _Normandie_
had the prerogatiue of birth; which being a benefit proceeding from
nature, could not bee reuersed by his fathers acte. He had also wonne a
most honorable reputation for his militarie vertues; and had by many
trauels of warre wasted the wilde follies of youth. Hee was no lesse
famous for courtesie and liberalitie, two most amiable ornaments of
honour; being so desirous that no man should depart discontented from
him, that he would oftentimes promise more then hee was able to
performe, and yet performe more then his estate could expediently
afford. As for K. _William_, besides that he was the yonger brother, his
nature was held to be doubtfull and suspect, and the iudgement of most
men enclined to the worst. And what are we then aduantaged, (said they)
by the death of his father? if whom he hath fleeced, this shall flay; if
this shall execute those whom he hath fettered and surely bound; If
after his seuerities that are past, wee shall be freshly charged with
those rigours, which tyrants in the height and pride of their Fortune
are wont to vse? And as stronger combinations are alwayes made betweene
men drawne together by one common feare, then betweene those that are
ioyned by hope or desire; so vpon these iealousies and feares,
accompanied also with vehement desires, the Confederats supposed that
they had knit a most assured league.
Now it happened that at the time of the death of _William_ the elder,
_Robert_ his eldest sonne was absent in _Almaine_; and at once heard
both of the death of his father, and that his brother _William_ was
acknowledged to be King. Hereupon in great hast, but greater heat both
of anger and ambition, he returned into _Normandie_: and there whilest
he was breathing foorth his discontentment and desire of reuenge, he
receiued a message from the Confederats in _England_; that with all
speed hee should come ouer vnto them, to accomplish the enterprise, to
furnish their forces with a head: that they had no want of able bodies;
they wanted no meanes to maintaine them together; they wanted onely his
person both to countenance and conduct them. The Duke thought it no
wisdome, to aduenture himselfe altogether; vpon the fauour and faith of
discontented persons: and he had bene so loosely liberall before, that
he was vnprouided of money, to appoint himselfe with any competent
forces of his owne. Hereupon he pawned a part of _Normandie_ to his
brother _Henry_, for waging Souldiers: many also flocked voluntarily
vnto him; vpon inducement, that hee who of his owne nature was most
liberall & full of humanitie, would not faile both of pay and reward,
vnlesse by reason of disabilitie & want.
In the meane time the Confederats resolued to breake forth in Armes, in
diuers parts of the Realme at once; vpon conceit, that if the King
should endeuour to represse them in one place, they might more easily
preuaile in the other. And so accordingly _Odo_ fortified and spoiled in
_Kent_; _Geoffrey_ Bishop of _Exceter_, with his nephew _Robert Mowbray_
Earle of _Northumberland_, at _Bristow_; _Roger Montgomerie_ in
_Northfolke_, _Suffolke_ and _Cambridgeshire_; _Hugh de Grandemenill_,
in _Leicestershire_ and _Northamptonshire_; _William_ Bishop
of _Durhame_, in the North parts of the Realme; diuers others
of the Clergie and Nobilitie in _Herefordshire_, _Shropshire_,
_Worcestershire_, and all the Countreys adioyning to _Wales_. And as in
time of pestilence all diseases turne to the plague; so in this generall
tumult, all discontentments sorted to Rebellion. Many who were oppressed
with violence or with feare; many who were kept lower either by want or
disgrace then they had set their mounting minds, adioyned daily to the
side, and encreased both the number and the hope. And thus was all the
Realme in a ruinous rage against K. _William_, who wanted neither
courage to beare, nor wisdome to decline it.
And first hee endeuoured by all meanes to make the _English_ assured
vnto him. And albeit few of them were at that time in any great place,
either of credite or of charge, but were all wounded by his fathers
wrongs; yet for that they were the greatest part, he made the greatest
reckoning of them. For this cause hee released many _English_ Lords who
had bene committed to custodie by his father. He composed himselfe to
courtesie and affabilitie towards the people, and distributed much
treasure among them. But especially hee wanne their inclination by
promises of great assurance, to restore vnto them their ancient lawes,
to ease them of tributes and taxations, and to permit them free libertie
of hunting: which being their principall pleasure and exercise before,
was either taken away, or much restrained from them by King _William_
the elder. Herewith he applied himselfe to appease the mutinous minds of
his Nobilitie, to seuer the Confederats, to breake the faction; to
diuide it first, and thereby to defeat it.
To this purpose he dealt with _Roger Montgomerie_, who next vnto _Odo_
was a principall both countenance and strength to the reuolt; he dealt
also with diuers others, inferiour vnto him in authority and degree;
that he could not coniecture for what cause they were so violent against
him: did they want money? His fathers treasure was at their deuotion:
desired they encrease of possessions? they should not be otherwise
bounded then by their owne desires: that hee would willingly also giue
ouer his estate, in case it should be iudged expedient by themselues,
whom his father had put in trust to support him: that they should doe
wel to foresee, whether by ouerthrowing his fathers iudgement in
appointing the kingdome vnto him, they should not doe that which might
be preiudiciall to themselues; for the same man who had appointed him to
bee King, had also conferred vnto them those honours and possessions
which they held. Thus sometimes dealing priuately with particulars, and
sometimes with many together, and eftsoones filling them with promises
and hopes, and that with such new vehemencie of words as they beleeued
could not proceede from dissembled intents; he so preuailed in the end,
that hereby, and by example of some inducing the rest, _Roger
Montgomerie_ and diuers others were reconciled to the King; in whom was
thought to rest no smal matter to hold vp the reputation of the
enterprise.
And further, hee prepared a nauie to guard the seas, and to impeach the
passage of his brother into _England_. Hee prepared great forces also by
meanes of the treasure which his father had left, and disposed them in
places conuenient, either to preuent or to represse these scattered
tumults. But the successe of his affaires was by no meanes so much
aduanced, as by _Lanfranck_ Archbishop of _Canterbury_, and by
_Woolstane_ Bishop of _Worcester_: the authority of which two men, the
one for his learning, wisedome, and mild moderation, the other for his
simple sanctitie and integritie of life, was greatly regarded by all
sorts of people. By encouragement of _Woolstane_ not onely the citie of
_Worcester_ was maintained in firme condition for the King, but his
enemies receiued there a famous foyle; the greatest part being slaine,
and the residue dispersed. This was the first sad blow which the
confederates tooke; afterward they declined mainely, and the King as
mainly did increase.
The King in person led his chiefe forces into _Kent_, against _Odo_ his
vncle, the principall firebrand of all this flame. Hee tooke there the
castle of _Tunbridge_ and of _Pemsey_, which _Odo_ had fortified; and
lastly hee besieged _Odo_ himselfe in the castle of _Rochester_, and
with much trauell tooke him prisoner, and compelled him to abiure the
Realme. Vpon these euents, the Bishop of _Durham_, aduising onely with
feare and despaire, fled out of the Realme; but after three yeeres he
was againe restored to the dignitie of his Sea. The residue did submit
themselues to the Kings discretion; and were by him receiued, all to
pardon, some to gracious and deare account. For in offences of so high
nature, pardon neuer sufficeth to assure offenders, vnlesse by further
benefits their loyaltie bee bound.
_Robert_ Duke of _Normandy_ was busied all this time, in making
preparation for his iourney into _England_: but his delayes much abated
the affections of those who fauoured either his person or cause. At the
length, hauing made vp a competent power, he committed to sea; where,
his infelicities concurring with his negligence, diuers of his ships
which he had sent somewhat before him, to assure the confederats of his
approach, were set vpon and surprised by the nauie of King _William_.
After this hee arriued in _England_, sent vnto many of his secret
friends, and made his comming knowen vnto all: but no man resorted to
him, he receiued no aduertisement from any man; but plainely found, that
by the fortunate celeritie of King _William_, the heart of the
conspiracie in all places was broken. So the Duke returned into
_Normandie_, hauing then good leisure, to looke into the errour of his
leisurely proceedings.
When the King had in this sort either wisely reconciled, or valiantly
repressed his domesticall enemies; because an vnperfect victory is
alwayes the seede of a new warre, he followed his brother with a mighty
armie, and remoued the seate of the warre into _Normandie_. For he
coniectured (as in trueth it fell out) that the Duke his brother vpon
his returne, would presently disperse his companies, for want of money;
and for the same cause would not easily be able to draw them together
againe. So his valour and his power being much aduantaged by his sudden
comming, ioyned to the want of foresight and preparation in the Duke;
he tooke in short time the Castles of _Walerick_ and _Aubemarle_, with
the whole Countrey of _Eu_; the Abbacie of _Mount S Michael_,
_Fescampe_, _Chereburge_, and diuers other places; which he furnished
with men of Armes, and Souldiers of assured trust.
The Duke feeling his owne weakenesse, dealt with _Philip_ King of
_France_, and by liberall promises so preuailed with him, that he
descended into _Normandie_ with a faire Armie, and bent his siege
against one of those pieces which K. _William_ had taken. But he found
it so knottie a piece of worke, that in short time wearied with
hardnesse and hazards of the field, he fell to a capitulation with King
_William_, and so departed out of _Normandie_; receiuing a certaine
summe of money in regard of his charges, and conceiuing that he had won
honour ynough, in that no honour had bene won against him.
The money that was payd to the King of _France_, was raised in _England_
by this deuise. King _William_ commanded that 20. Thousand men should be
mustered in _England_, and transported into _Normandie_, to furnish his
warres against the _French_. When they were conducted neere to
_Hastings_, and almost ready to be embarked, it was signified to them
from the King; that aswell for their particular safeties, as not to
disfurnish the Realme of strength, whosoeuer would pay 10. shillings
towards the waging of Souldiers in _Normandie_, he might be excused to
stay at home. Among 20. Thousand scarce any was found, who was not
ioyfull to embrace the condition; who was not ready to redeeme his
aduenture with so small a summe: which being gathered together, was both
a surer and easier meanes to finish the warres, then if the King had
still struggeled by force of Armes. For when the _French_ King had
abandoned the partie, Duke _Robert_, being prepared neither with money,
nor constancie of mind to continue the warre, enclined to peace; which
at the last, by diligence of friends, was concluded betweene the two
brothers, vpon these conditions.
_That the Duke should yeeld to the King the Countie of Eu, the Abbey
of Fescampe, the Abbey of S. Michaels mount, Chereburge, and all
other Castles and fortifications which the King had taken._
_That the King should subdue to the vse of the Duke, all other
Castles and houldes, which had reuolted from him in Normandie._
_That the King should giue to the Duke certaine dignities and
possessions in England._
_That the King should restore all those to their dignities and lands
in England, who had taken part with the Duke against him._
_That if either of them should die without issue male, the suruiuour
should suc
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