Walter Langton

One of the Keepers of the Wardrobe for five years (1290 - 1295) under Edward I was Walter Langton (1243 - 1321). He used the surname Langton because he was from Langton in Leicestershire. He was born in 1243 and likely entered the church at a young age. His uncle, William Langton, was Dean of York in 1262, and Walter might have been raised by him. (William was elected Archbishop of York, but did not get the position because the pope wanted someone else.)

Walter in 1272 was a rector of a church in Yorkshire, and it may have been through the Lord Chancellor Robert Burnell (who was also Archdeacon of York) that King Edward I became aware of Langton. Edward made Langton Keeper of the Wardrobe and, it was said, relied on him as his closest confidant. When the debate arose over succession in Scotland after the death of Alexander III, Edward sent Langton to represent England's interests.

In 1295, Langton was made Treasurer until 1307 (Edward's death). He was also given several ecclesiastical benefices from which he could recieve revenues. In 1296 he was made Bishop of Lichfield and rebuilt his residence there, Eccleshall Castle, into a much grander building.

His increasing wealth made him a target of the Barons, who asked Edward to dismiss him. He was accused of simony, adultery, murder, and witchcraft. Although he went to Rome for trial, Pope Boniface VIII sent him back to the court of Archbishop of Canterbury Robert Winchelsey. Winchelsey was hostile to Langton, due to Langton's siding with the king over taxation of the clergy. Despite this attitude, he found Langton innocent of the charges.

Edward I supported his Treasurer and councillor even when Langton quarreled with the king's son, Edward Caernarvon. Langton was opposed (as were others) to the influence over the prince of Piers Gaveston. When Edward I died and the prince became King Edward II and Gaveston returned from exile, Langton knew his time was past. Langton was arrested, imprisoned, and his lands and movable property were seized. Pope Clement V tried to intervene on his behalf, but the Barons also were against him and he stayed in prison until 1312. He was returned to his post as Treasurer, but Parliament asked that he be dismissed in 1315. He died on 9 November 1321.

It was startling that Winchelsey found Langton innocent, when he could have taken the opportunity to eliminate a thorn in his side. Winchelsey was an enemy of Edward I and Edward II and spent 20 years fighting them. I'll tell you about him tomorrow.

Keeper of the Wardrobe

The Keeper of the Wardrobe in England was a very important position, and it actually did start with a wardrobe; that is, the place where the king's clothing and armor were stored. The Wardrobe was part of the King's Household (the Chamber was the other part). Not a simple closet, however, because it also included the king's other possessions and treasure, so the person chosen (like Antony Bek and his brother) to keep track of it had to be responsible and trusted absolutely. That sounds fairly straightforward, and the Keeper position was in charge of inventory. During the reign of Henry II, however, the "Wardrobe" took on greater significance and meaning.

To understand its greater role we have to talk about the Curia regis, the "King's Council." This was the term used to refer to the advisors and administrators of the king. In England, the Anglo-Saxons had their witan or witangemot. After the Norman Conquest, although the English still used the old term, official records use Curia regis. The Curia included barons, bishops and abbots, the chancellor, constable, stewards, chamberlain, marshal, etc.

With Henry, management of the Wardrobe absorbed oversight of the Curia as well, making the Keeper an even more prestigious position. The Wardrobe took over administrative and accounting duties for the entire Household. This required it to receive large sums from the other important office, the Exchequer. It did not, however, always have to turn to the Exchequer: because the Wardrobe included treasure, the king could make his own quick financial deal without going through official channels.

As the Wardrobe took on more responsibility for management of the government, it became too large to keep in one place. During the reign of Henry's son Edward, the Wardrobe divided into one managing the king's personal expenditures versus the Great Wardrobe, which managed cloth and clothing and spices. Separate Privy Wardrobes containing the king's personal effects such as clothing and jewelry (the illustration is of a Privy Wardrobe at Westminster). The Privy Wardrobe in the Tower of London maintained his armor and weapons.

The position—along with the Wardrobes as they were originally envisioned and evolved—no longer exist. In 1782 these divisions were eliminated. The position was so powerful when it existed that the person holding it could wield great authority, even against the king's family. For that story we'll look at one of these men, Walter Langton. See you tomorrow.

Between King and Archbishop

Antony Bek (c.1245 - 1311) was from a family of knights. He and his brother Thomas attended Oxford University at Merton College in the late 1260s, then entered the clergy. (They were younger sons; an older brother, John, inherited the family lands.)

Prince Edward went on a crusade in 1270 and took Bek with him. After the crusade, Edward in 1274 appointed Bek Keeper of the Wardrobe, an important position in a royal household. One month later, however, Bek was replaced by his brother Thomas and was made Constable of the Tower, responsible for managing the castle when the lord was away.

By 1275 Antony was named archdeacon in Durham as well as holding a few other religious positions. These were gifts that allowed him to collect revenues; he did not have to perform duties in those locations.

A trusted councillor, he was sent to Wales to negotiate a treaty with Llewelyn ap Gruffudd, the Prince of Wales. He was also sent to Aragon to negotiate marriage between Edward's daughter Eleanor to Alfonso III. He also went to Scotland in 1286 after the death of King Alexander III to act on behalf of Alexander's heir, Margaret of Norway, who was engaged to marry Edward's son.

His friendship with Edward allowed him to extend his temporal power when he became Bishop of Durham (see the coat of arms above) in 1283. He tried to control the Benedictine Priory in Durham, a dispute which went to the pope for arbitration and was decided in Ben's favor. Pope Clement V made Bek Patriarch of Jerusalem, which meant he was the most senior member of the clergy in England.

This angered the Archbishop of York, who had jurisdiction over the Priory. When Bek allowed the king's men to arrest two priests in 1293, the Archbishop of York, John le Romeyn, excommunicated him. This was a radical and drastic move against a bishop. Romeyn was hauled before Parliament, who decreed that Bek had been rightly acting in his secular role and not as a bishop, and so Romeyn did not have jurisdiction in this case. Romeyn was imprisoned and fined 4000 marks to King Edward.

Bek survived Edward I, performing the funeral service for him at Westminster Abbey. As the senior clergy in England he was asked to investigate the Templars in 1308 by Edward II. Bek's career had allowed him to gather enough wealth to build Durham Castle's Great Hall, and to expand Auckland Castle (a residence of the Bishops of Durham)and Somerton Castle Inherited from his mother, Eva de Gray).

Bek died 3 March 1311. There was some talk about canonization that went nowhere.

So...about this job he held for one month that was given to his brother, Keeper of the Wardrobe. Did he just manage some noble's clothing? There was more to it than that, which I will go into next time.

Eleanor's Children

Eleanor of Castile, as Queen of England, wanted advantageous marriages for her children. She and Edward I had 16 or more, but although many marriages were proposed and arranged, only a few of the children achieved adulthood. Several of the first offspring died before even reaching double digits in age.

One named Eleanor (1269 - 1298) was the first child who survived to adulthood. She was betrothed to Alfonso III of Aragon (once mentioned here), but he died before the marriage could take place. She married Count Henry III of Bar. They had a son who succeeded his father as Count of Bar, and a daughter who married the 7th Earl of Surrey.

Joan (1272 - 1307) married twice. The first was Gilbert de Clare, who had fought against Edward and his father during the Second Barons' War and had overseen a massacre of Jews at Canterbury. After Gilbert died, she persuaded her father to knight one of Gilbert's squires, Ralph de Monthermer. Ralph was about the same age as Joan. Once he was knighted, Joan and Ralph secretly married. Edward found out a few months later and angrily had Ralph imprisoned. According to the chronicler Thomas Walsingham (writing at a much later date), Joan pleaded with her father:

No one sees anything wrong if a great earl marries a poor and lowly woman. Why should there be anything wrong if a countess marries a young and promising man?

This, and the intervention of the Bishop of Durham, Antony Bek, caused the king to relent. Ralph was released and officially name to Gilbert de Clare's old titles (that were inherited by Joan), making him jure uxoris (by right of wife) Earl of Gloucester and Hertford.

Margaret, their 10th child, was born in 1275 and died sometime after 1333. She married John the Peaceful, Duke of Brabant. John had one child with Margaret who succeeded him, and several illegitimate children who did not.

Elizabeth (1282 - 1316) John I, Count of Holland, when she was 15. John was born in 1284, and the marriage to Elizabeth was arranged in 1285. They tied the know in 1297 in Ipswich, after which they lived in Holland. He died in 1299, and she married Humphrey de Bohun, 4th Earl of Hereford. Humphrey was from a powerful family who would be a very loud voice against Elizabeth's brother...

Edward Caernarvon, their last child and the only male to survive past childhood. Plenty has been said about his rule, his lifestyle, his marriage to Isabella of France, and his death.

Instead, I will go back to Antony Bek, the Bishop of Durham who spoke to the king on behalf of Joan's marriage. He had a little trouble being loyal to both King Edward and the Archbishop of Canterbury, a story for tomorrow.

Eleanor's Influence

As Edward I's queen, Eleanor of Castile had a large effect on the country, and not just because of all the property she owned. Her patronage of the arts and her children's and relative's marriages stand out.

She established a scriptorium for producing and reproducing books. It is the only known instance of a royal scriptorium in Northern Europe at that time. Saints' lives and romances were the common reading material of the day, but Eleanor wanted more.

When her mother died in 1279 and Eleanor inherited the title Countess of Ponthieu, she had a romance written about a fictional 9th century count of Ponthieu. She had an Arthurian romance written with a Northumbrian theme. The Archbishop of Canterbury wrote a treatise on angels at her request. Pictured here is the Alfonso Psalter, which she had written for her son Alfonso (1273 - 1284); more about it here.

She had tiled bathrooms and piped water to some of the royal residences to match what she was accustomed to in Castile. She increased the use of tapestries and carpeting. These were initially criticized as Spanish extravagances, but became a popular fashion for those who could afford them. She also liked fancy tableware like knives and forks, but the forks may have been only for serving from a platter, not for individual use.

Another Castilian practice she brought to England was water features in gardens, along with fish ponds, aviaries, and gazebos. Household accounts show her ordering olive oil, French cheeses, and fresh fruit from the Mediterranean, as well as food and other items from Acre, because of her time there on Crusade with Edward.

She founded several priories, and gave financial support to Oxford and Cambridge universities.

One of the immediate impacts made by Eleanor and Edward—and partially for their benefit—was arranging advantageous marriages for their children. Eleanor bore at least 16 children to Edward. Only a few survived to adulthood, but they helped tie the throne to powerful relatives. I'll talk more about that tomorrow.

Eleanor Crosses

Queen Eleanor of England died in 1290. She had probably been ill for awhile. After her last child was born in 1284 (who became King Edward II), the royal accounts show medicines being purchased for the queen. What medicines were purchased is not clear, but from her time in Gascony with Edward in 1287 she was described as being ill with symptoms that resemble malaria. The effects of this stay with the body and make it susceptible to infections and organ damage.

Whatever the cause, King Edward I was bereft. They had been together almost 30 years, and unlike other kings there was no indication that he had affairs. He had worked to make sure she had plenty of money to support her needs, even if he were to pre-decease her.

She died while on a tour of England to visit her children, that was moving very slowly due (presumable) to her ill health. She died on 28 November at the house of a member of Parliament in the village of Harby. Her body was embalmed and taken slowly to Westminster so the people could mourn along the way. There were 12 stops along the way.

In 1291 Edward commissioned 12 memorial crosses—now referred to as Eleanor Crosses—to be placed at the towns where the body stopped each night on the funeral procession to Westminster. They were three-tiered and included statues of the queen. The first was in Lincoln and the final one was erected at Charing, now called Charing Cross. Most of the crosses have been reduced to fragments, but three are intact (pictured is the one at St. Albans), and many reproductions have been made. The Queen Eleanor Memorial Cross at Charing Cross Station is a memorial to the queen and the original cross.

Around this same time, a shrine to Little St. Hugh of Lincoln was erected, in a style so similar that it is assumed the same sculpture studio produced it. It also holds the royal crest and a decoration that commemmorates Eleanor. An Eleanor Cross is very near it, linking her more closely to the treatment of Jews and her link to their property mentioned in the above links.

Before we leave Eleanor behind, I want to talk about her legacy and influence on the culture and dynasties of England. That's for next time.

Eleanor's Unpopularity

Eleanor of Castile (1241 - 1290) was not always well-liked by the English. Although she was performing the expected duty of providing children to Edward I, she was a foreigner in an England that was becoming increasingly wary of influence in their politics from the continent.

She also became disproportionately wealthy in the acquisition of land. The lands given to her as dowry provided £4500 annually, and lands she acquired between 1274 and 1290 produced £2600. This was Edward's plan: to make sure she had annual income to support her needs and desires without having to draw from the Exchequer. She had an annual budget of £8000, so the majority came from her rents.

These were rents that would have gone to many other nobles, however, who resented not possessing lands that in the past belonged to their dynasties. After the Battle of Evesham during the Second Barons' War, lands held by the rebels were given to Eleanor.

Some of the lands were confiscated from nobles because they were mortgaged, used as collateral by borrowing money from Jews. Montfort financed the Second Barons' War partially by persecuting Jews and destroying the records of debts his followers owed to them. Canceling Jewish debts or trading bond debts for land required royal permission, however, and so after the War, Henry III (and Edward I later) would take over de Montfort's followers debts and claim them. Much real estate came into the hands of the king cheaply, and was given to Eleanor.

She also benefitted from the execution of hundreds of Jews for the illegal act of coin clipping. Property of the executed was handed over to her.

An argument made against her was that she actually benefitted from usury, the Jewish practice of charging interest on loans which was forbidden to Christians. Of course anyone borrowing from Jews was paying interest, and the king often simply took over the money owed to Jews for his own purposes, but having the queen gain so much wealth through Jewish debts was a step too far. The Archbishop of Canterbury, John Peckham, spoke about this:

A rumour is waxing strong throughout the kingdom and has generated much scandal. It is said that the illustrious lady queen, whom you serve, is occupying many manors, lands, and other possessions of nobles, and has made them her own property – lands which the Jews have extorted with usury from Christians under the protection of the royal court.

The fact that she "benefitted" from this financial connection to Jews' money did not mean she had a close association with Jews. A devout Christian whose family was very involved in the Crusades, there is every reason to believe that she shared the common hostility toward Jews. Some think that her influence inspired Edward to declare the Expulsion of all Jews from England in 1290. The Expulsion allowed Jews to leave with personal possessions and cash, but property was left behind and given to the king. This would simply be a continuation of the previous practice of supporting his queen (and himself).

By the end of 1290, however, Eleanor was dead, and Edward was bereft. He wanted to commemmorate Eleanor, and he did, in a manner which can still be seen. I'll tell you about Eleanor Crosses tomorrow.

Eleanor of Castile

Ferdinand III of Castile and his queen, Joan the Countess of Ponthieu, had two children together. One, a son named Ferdinand, went on to become Count of Aumale (inherited through Joan from her father). The other was a daughter named Eleanor (born 1241), after Joan's grandmother Eleanor, the daughter of Eleanor of Aquitaine. (Ferdinand had sons from a previous wife, one of whom, Alfonso, succeeded him.)

Her father's court was focused on education and the arts, and so she probably had a good education growing up. Castile had hoped to unite with the kingdom of Navarre. When Eleanor was 11 her half-brother, King Alfonso X of Castile, hoped she would marry Theobald II of Navarre. Another of Alfonso's desires came into play, however.

Alfonso wanted to claim Gascony, which was at the time possessed by England. Henry III of England objected to this and brought in the military. They settled the issue by a marriage of Henry's son Edward, technically Duke of Gascony, to Alfonso's half-sister Eleanor. Edward and Eleanor were married on 1 November 1254 at the monastery of Las Huelgas.

Eleanor was barely 13, and in their first year of marriage, spent in Gascony, it is believed she gave birth to a daughter who did not survive long. In 1255, Eleanor traveled to England with an entourage including some relatives. Edward followed later. 

Eleanor became part of the political story during the Second Barons' War. She supported her husband, calling for archers from Ponthieu. The leader of the barons, Simon de Montfort, confined her to Westminster Palace. After Edward and Henry defeated the Barons, Eleanor seems to have taken a more prominent role in government. She also started bearing children. Husband and wife were never far apart, even on military campaigns. Their son Edward was born in Caernarfon Castle because Edward was on a military campaign to Wales.

Because household records kept track of expenses, we know of one of the couple's cute traditions. Edward obviously abstained from sexual relations with his wife during Lent. On Easter Sunday, he allowed the queen's ladies-in-waiting to trap him in his bed; he would have to pay them a ransom to get out and visit his wife's bedroom on Easter morning. (On the first Easter after Eleanor's death, Edward paid her ladies the money anyway.)

Another economic facet of Eleanor is how she benefitted from persecution of England's Jews, and we'll look at that tomorrow.

Coin Clipping=Capital Crime?

The greatest travesty relating to coin clipping took place during the reign of Edward I of England. Kings always spend beyond their means, and in the 1270s Edward attempted to crack down on coin-clipping to maintain control over state currency. Anyone likely to be guilty of coin clipping was targeted, but "some were more targeted than others."

Edward organized arrests starting in 1276, implementing fines and punishments for malefactors. In 1278, there were mass arrests of Jews; approximately 600 Jews were incarcerated, which was 20% of the total Jewish population in England. More than incarceration followed, however. In the 1270s, and up to 1290, slightly more Christians than Jews were arrested, but ten times more Jews than Christians were executed. In London alone, 298 Jews were executed for the crime of coin clipping.

Coin clipping was the excuse, but it is unlikely that it was the reality. Executing someone for a crime allowed the king to claim all their goods and property. Since Jews were England's chief moneylenders, Edward was able to confiscate their holdings. This was a two-edged sword: it sometimes meant those who owed money to the Jews had their debts canceled, and meant the royal coffers had in influx of cash, but it also meant less flow of money in the future, and a lack of sources to borrow money for projects.

Also, coin clipping continued to be a problem. The mass arrests and executions did nothing to deter it.

Kings always needed money, and taxing or persecuting Jews was a way to get a quick influx of cash. The plight of Jews in the Middle Ages has been covered quite a bit in this blog, and Edward I was a big part of that. Despite his part in all of this, however, there was another person involved who does not get enough attention.

After the trials and the confiscation of Jewish property, any additional property or goods that were subsequently found to be forfeit went to Edward's wife, Queen Eleanor of Castile. Leeds Castle, shown above, was bought by Eleanor at a steep discount as a result of the coin clipping trials. Many believe that Eleanor was a strong influence on Edward's mistreatment of the Jews, and I think we need to learn more about her tomorrow.

Debasing Coinage

Let me explain how you can turn a finite number of metal coins into more coins.

You may have seen medieval coins that weren't entirely round; they were lop-sided somehow or had a flat edge to them. That was not necessarily the action of years or wear and tear through handling. That was more likely because of coin-clipping.

Coin-clipping was a popular way to make more money for personal use. Medieval coins were solid metal all the way through, not cheaper metal covered with another layer to make them shiny, as much modern coinage is in the promissory system. The Medieval English penny was solid silver. A known practice was to "clip" the edges of the coin, reducing its size, and using the clipping from several coins to make an additional coin (or a silver lump that had value).

This, of course, debased the value of the original coin(s) because they were expected to have a specific weight of silver (or gold, in some cases). The illustration above is not medieval, but from a hoard of clippings from 16th century coins found in 2015.

One of the ways to guard against coin clipping was to put a design or milled edge on the coin to make it clear of the edge has been altered; United States quarters and dimes show this, nickels and pennies are made of such cheap metal that a milled edge isn't considered worthwhile.

Other methods of debasing coinage were "sweating" and "plugging." In sweating, coins were placed in a bag and shaken vigorously so that bits of metal might flake off and could be collected at the bottom of the bag to be re-used. Plugging was the act of punching a hole in the middle of the coin, knocking out a bit of metal, then hammering the coin to fill in the hole. With the edge of the coin intact, the flattened image in the center could be explained as normal wear and tear.

These practices were bad for the economy, devaluing the actual coin (which was based on weight of silver), and promoting inflation. They were considered extremely serious offenses. Suspicion of coin-clipping in the time of King Edward I (1272-1307) lead to hundreds of deaths in a single outrageous over-reaction.

But that's a story for tomorrow.

The Assize of Bread (and Ale)

Bread was so important to daily life, as food and even as tableware. Not every household had the time and resources to make its own bread, and had to turn to bakers for their loaves, of which there were several in any decent-sized town.

A problem for those who did not bake their own was the fluctuation of prices. This was not always the fault of the baker, however. Harvests were variable, and the price of grain rose and fell with the weather. There were cheaper breads, of course, but their prices fluctuated as well. Bakers might also indulge in what our modern era calls "shrinkflation," the reduction of the amount of goods for the same prior price, or "skimpflation," the use of less-desirable material (oats mixed in with the wheat, for example)  to make a sold good.

These changing prices affected everyone, including royal households who consumed far more than a typical family. King Henry II of England and his son John both established rules for the price of bread to make their own households run smoothly and inexpensively. It wasn't until John's son, Henry III, that a nationwide pricing structure was declared about 1266. It was initiated by bakers in Coventry who wanted standards established to save them from accusations of unfairness or price-gouging. This was the Assize of Bread and Ale.

The immediate object of the Assize was to fix the size of the loaf of bread. Whatever might be the fluctuations of the corn-market*, loaves were sold at a farthing**, or a half-penny or a penny; the size of these loaves would therefore vary according to the price of corn, becoming smaller as the price of corn rose and larger as it fell.[link]

About the Feast of St, Michael (29 September) the results of the year's grain harvest could be judged, and the prices/sizes could be determined for the next 12 months. 

This Assize was the longest-lasting law of its kind, and was not significantly amended until the Bread Acts of 1822!

As for ale, since it relied on grain:

when a quarter of wheat was sold for three shillings, or three shillings and four-pence, and a quarter of barley for twenty pence or twenty-four pence, and a quarter of oats for fifteen pence, brewers in cities could afford to sell two gallons of ale for a penny, and out of cities three gallons for a penny; and when in a town...three gallons are sold for a penny, out of a town they may and ought to sell four. [Long, George, ed. (1833) "Ale", The Penny Cyclopædia]

The Assize did not just establish prices. In order to enforce the Assize, regulatory structures were put in place with fees and penalties. Manorial lords were to hold tri-weekly sessions to enforce the statutes. Also, since the weight of bread was linked to its price in pence, half-pence, and quarter-pence, it was important that the pence itself was a reliable and expected value.

Why would it not be? Well, debasement of coinage was definitely a technique throughout history for getting more "bang from a buck" so to speak, and I'll discuss those dishonest ways next time.

*corn-market =remember that "corn" referred to any grain
**farthing = quarter of a penny

Trenchers

We've talked about bread before, way back here and more recently here, but now I want to discuss a very specific use for bread: the trencher.

The trencher existed for a very simple reason: plates were expensive. Serving food to individuals was more efficiently done if each person had a flat surface on which their food could be set in front of them. What do you use for a plate? Ceramic or pewter were expensive to make and own, but the ubiquity of using grains for bread led to a solution.

Once bread goes stale, it is firm and (if the menu does not include items with too much liquid) perfectly capable of supporting a meal. Trenchers were "scalable" as well, although they were generally made for an individual.

To make a trencher did not require refined flour. You wanted it to be coarse. Also, it was not necessarily edible. You weren't going to make it with your best wheat flour. You'd use barley, oats, rye, or a combination of them. Also, it didn't need to rise as much as a regular loaf: you want it to be dense. Then the real different part: you didn't want it to be fresh. You wanted it to be stale. What few recipes exist that explain the process make it clear that it was a flattened round loaf, allowed to sit for three days, then was sliced across the middle to make two halves, top and bottom. Each of these was a "trencher," from the Old French tranchier, "to cut."

This could now be placed in front of a dinner guest on which they would pile the meat and other foods (N.B.: no soup course here). In some medieval woodcuts and other pictures, you may now recognize them as the round items, often with crossed lines on top as decoration (which the guest would never see, since the top half would be used upside-down.

It was considered improper to eat the trencher at a feast. What, then, was its final fate? After all, despite the stale nature, it was now soaked with juices from meat and vegetables, so surely it wasn't rock-hard and would have some flavor? Yes, but not for refined company. The trenchers were given to the dogs or distributed to the poor, waiting outside the gates for this largesse.

So that is why the story of the death of Godwin, Earl of Wessex, makes sense (if we are willing to believe Aelred of Rievaulx).

Ah, bread! Staple of life. So important that its price had to be regulated, and that's what Henry III did for his people. I'll say more on that tomorrow.

Godwin's End(s)

Godwin, Earl of Wessex (c.1001 - 15 April 1053) had played his cards carefully, supporting whomever was in power. Although English, he rose to prominence by supporting the Danish King Cnut who took over from Æthelred, even capturing and allowing torture one of Æthelred's sons when that family tried to return to the throne. Later, he worked with another of Æthelred's sons who did become king.

The relationship was rocky, however, since King Edward never forgot Godwin's treatment of his brother, Alfred. Even so, Godwin was so powerful that Edward had to handle him carefully. He waited until there was a clear breach of feudal protocol, when Godwin refused an order from Edward to punish citizens who had acted abominably. The whole Godwin family was exiled in 1051. Even Godwin's daughter, Edith, who was married to Edward, as sent to a nunnery. Edward might have thought he would divorce her.

Although out of favor with the king, Godwin still had supporters. The year following their exile, the Godwin family returned in force (Godwin from Flanders, his sons from Ireland, where they had gained the help of the king of Leinster, Diarmait mac Máel na mBó. They had so much support from the locals in England that Edward had no choice but to reinstate them in their positions, including reinstating Edith as queen.

In the following year, however, Godwin died suddenly on 15 April while feasting with the king. There are two stories of his death. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle record for 1053 states:

On Easter Monday, as he was sitting with the king at a meal he suddenly sank towards the footstool bereft of speech, and deprived of all his strength. Then he was carried to the king's private room and they thought it was about to pass off. But it was not so. On the contrary, he continued like this without speech or strength right on to the Thursday, and then departed this life.

A man in his 50s who had experienced a lot of stress might easily have been felled by a stroke. A later historian, the 12th-century writer Aelred of Rievaulx (read about him here and here), decided to make the incident more interesting. According to his biography of Edward, the subject of Alfred's death came up. Godwin took a piece of brad and said:

"May this crust which I hold in my hand pass through my throat and leave me unharmed to show that I was guiltless of treason towards you, and that I was innocent of your brother's death!"

He swallowed the crust and died.

Really? That was considered a test by Godwin, to swallow a piece of bread? Well, yes, because this was not the bread you are thinking of. Tomorrow I'll explain what was so different about this bread.

The Goldsmith Monk

During the time of Edward the Confessor, a Benedictine monk was so talented an artist that it brought him to the attention of the rich and powerful. His name was Spearhafoc, which is Old English for "sparrowhawk."

He was a monk at Bury St. Edmunds (one of the richest abbeys in England until destroyed by Henry VIII), and was an outstanding artist in painting not only illuminated manuscripts but also in goldsmithing. He caught the attention of both Godwin, Earl of Wessex, and the newly crowned King Edward the Confessor.

Edward made him Abbot of Abingdon in 1047 or 1048, and then promoted him to Bishop of London when the former bishop, Robert of Jumièges, was made Archbishop of Canterbury and sent to Rome to receive the pallium from Pope Leo IX. Spearhafoc was given gold and jewels in order to make a new crown for Edward.

Before we continue in his main story, I'll mention that there is a miracle attributed to him which I shared here.

When Robert returned from Rome, however, he refused to consecrate Spearhafoc as bishop, claiming the pope forbade it. There is some reason to support this claim, since Leo was starting a campaign against corrupt clergy and was opposed to simony, the purchasing of ecclesiastical positions for personal gain. The order to make a crown "in exchange for" the position of bishop certainly looked unethical.

The king insisted, Robert denied, Godwin (who had reasons for not liking Robert and seemed to be a supporter of Spearhafoc) also objected to Robert's stance. There was a stalemate that lasted for months. When Godwin was exiled in fall of 1051, Spearhafoc lost a valuable supporter against Robert, and decided to take matters into his own hands.

He disappeared. Completely. Taking with him the gold and jewels that were intended for the crown. He was never seen again.

But of course Godwin returned, and tomorrow we'll wrap up the rest of the story between Godwin and Edward.

Robert of Jumièges

Robert of Jumièges was Norman French, abbot of Jumièges Abbey. In the 1030s, Edward the Confessor was living in exile in Normandy, which is when and where the two men got to know each other. When the heirless Harthacnut offered the throne to Edward, the future king returned to England and brought Robert with him in 1042.

One of Edward's first opportunities to appoint a new clergyman came when Ælfweard, Bishop of London, died from leprosy in July 1044. Edward appointed Robert to the position in August. The English were wary of the Norman French influence in England, so Robert was already disliked by people like Godwin, Earl of Wessex. Godwin was expanding his family's power with appointments of his sons to earldoms and his daughter marrying Edward, but a biography of Edward claims that Robert remained the most influential advisor to Edward.

In October 1050, the English Archbishop of Canterbury, Eadsige, died. During his time as archbishop he had leased some of Canterbury's lands to Godwin. When Edward appointed Robert to the position, not only did the first Norman archbishop anger people—not least the monks of Canterbury, who had the right to elect their own choice—but also Robert immediately instigated strife with Godwin by demanding the return of the lands Eadsige had given away.

Robert had to travel to Rome in 1051 to receive the pallium, the symbol of his office. Rumor has it that he went through Normandy and told Duke William that Edward had named William his heir. Upon his return from Rome, he annoyed Edward by refusing to consecrate Edward's choice as his replacement for bishop of London. He claimed that Pope Leo IX had forbidden it, and there is some hint that it may have been so based on Leo's fight against simony, the purchase of ecclesiastical privileges.

It is also just after the Rome trip that Robert claimed knowledge of Godwin's plot to kill the king, contributing to Godwin's flight to Flanders. The biography of Edward also claims that Robert tried to (unsuccessfully) convince Edward to divorce Edith of Wessex, Godwin's daughter. When Godwin returned to England with an army, he was forgiven by Edward. Robert realized his attempts to vanquish Godwin had failed, and now he was in a precarious position in the kingdom.

He self-exiled, and was declared outlaw, and a royal council on 14 September 1052 removed him from his title. He was replaced with Stigand, who had negotiated the peace between Edward and Godwin, despite opposition from Pope Leo IX. Robert's property was divided between Godwin, Harold Godwinson, and Edith of Wessex.

Robert died at Jumièges some time in the 1050s. Duke William of Normandy used his treatment as one of the reasons to invade England in 1066, but that event has been told again and again.

I want to get back to Godwin's fate and Edward, but there's another character that was part of this story, and that is the man that Edward wanted to make bishop of London when Robert was elevated to the archbishopric. That man was named Spearhafoc—a monk and a goldsmith—and tomorrow we'll go into his story.