Edward's Death Leads to Turmoil

When Edward the Confessor died on 5 January 1066, he supposedly made a deathbed statement committing his kingdom into the care of Harold Godwinson, his wife's brother. As the most powerful man in England after the king, he was a natural choice. Whether Edward actually made that statement or not, the witenagemot, the group of wise men who counseled the king, approved Harold as king. He was crowned on the same day Edward was buried. (Some say he crowned himself, as in the illustration.)

When word reached Duke William of Normandy across the English Channel, the response was understandably extreme: William claimed that Edward had named him his heir years earlier. If that happened, perhaps William visited Edward when Edward had exiled the Godwins (and would not have considered a Godwin as his heir), but if so it might not have been that serious an offer. Edward and William were first cousins—William's grandfather was Richard II of Normandy, brother of Emma of Normandy, Edward's mother—and so there was an argument for William being in the line of succession.

Supposedly Harold himself had sworn on a saint's relics two years earlier to recognize William as king of England after Edward, after William saved Harold from capture by Guy of Ponthieu.

William was incensed. The report that Harold had broken a vow made on holy relics was so significant that it enabled William to procure the pope's blessing to depose Harold and take the throne. (Of course, William might have had help: Pope Alexander II was a former student of Lanfranc, who had been first an enemy and then a supporter of William and was not above exercising his influence on his former pupils.) The fact that William's army marched under a papal banner and blessing would have had a demoralizing effect on Harold's forces.

Worse than the psychological effect, however, would have been physical exhaustion. The stories we hear in our grade-school history books about 1066 leave out a third party: Harald Hardrada.

Harald Hardrada, King of Denmark and Norway, also believed he had a claim to England, since Danes had ruled it in times past. Harald landed in the north of England in September of 1066 with 300 longships, 15,000 men, and King Harold's brother, Tostig. On September 20 he defeated the first English forces he encountered. King Harold, however, met Harald five days later at the Battle of Stamford Bridge. Once Harold's forces managed to cross the bridge, he killed Harald and Tostig and defeated the army so soundly that only 24 ships survived to flee back to Denmark. This was not an easy battle, however, and the standoff at Stamford Bridge alone supposedly cost Harold about 20 of his best warriors and closest companions. See more here and here.

...and while Harold's army was recovering from their hard-won battle, the message arrived that William's fleet had arrived at Hastings, 300 miles away. The army (not recovered from their battle) had to march quickly south and meet William's fresh forces who had had plenty of time to prepare their defenses and pick the battle site. Who knows what would have happened if Harold's forces had been able to meet William's while at full strength? The years following the Battle of Hastings in 1066 are well-known, but history books too often leave out the crucial three weeks prior to the battle, when Harold and his English army performed herculean tasks to defend their shores.

If Edward died 5 January and Hastings took place in October, what was William doing for ten months? I'll tell you next time.

A Question of Rule in England

In 1051, when King Edward the Confessor was inviting more friendly Normans to join him in England, Duke William of Normandy visited. According to records made after 1066 but before William's death in 1087, William reported that Edward (who was celibate and would have no heirs of his own) told William that William would be his heir to the throne of England.

In 1064 (two years before Edward the Confessor's death), Harold Godwinson (later King Harold; the most powerful lord in England after the king; his sister was married to Edward) was shipwrecked off the coast of Normandy and held captive by Count Guy of Ponthieu. (Note: This is about the only reason why anyone studying history cares about Guy of Ponthieu, but this incident was important enough to justify William's invasion that Guy makes it onto the Bayeux tapestry; that's Guy in the illustration.) Duke William of Normandy told Guy to release him; this was done, and Harold was returned to England, but only after swearing on holy relics that he would recognize William as his king in the future.

This is according to reports written long after the fact by William's chroniclers. No English source relates this arrangement, and the two Norman sources are probably relating it solely to justify what happened in 1066.

When Edward died in 1066, Harold claimed that Edward had made a deathbed pronouncement, naming Harold his heir.

There was also a third claimant to the throne, although the least convincing. King Harald Hardrada of Norway and Denmark believed that he was the proper heir, because Danes had conquered England so many times in the past. A tenuous claim, but strengthened by the fact that he was supported by Tostig, the brother of Harold Godwinson! (Ahh, the days when sibling rivalry had higher stakes!)

The problem with all these claims?

In primarily Anglo-Saxon England, the next king was chosen by the witenagemot, the meeting of wise men. Kings might name a successor, but the witanagemot was needed to approve a ruler.

So who pressed their claim?

All of them.

William's reaction and the events that followed were predictable, but I'll tell you about them anyway 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.

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.

Dealing with the Godwins

Godwin, the Earl of Wessex, was a powerful landowner during the reign of Edward the Confessor (1042 - 1066), and Edward was wary of him. Edward as married to Godwin's daughter Eadgifu, but Godwin did not support his king and son-in-law in everything.

Edward had spent time growing up in Normandy, and he showed a preference for elevating Norman French subjects over local English or Danish subjects. One such example was Robert of Jumièges. Robert had known Edward in Normandy, and followed him to England where he was made bishop of London in 1043.

In 1051, a new Archbishop of Canterbury was needed. The clergy and monks of Canterbury elected a cousin of Godwin's to the position, but Edwards rejected this and appointed Robert of Jumièges. Robert claimed that Godwin was in illegal possession of some estates that belonged to the See of Canterbury. Moreover, in September of that year Edward's brother-in-law, Eustace II of Boulogne, visited. Edward appointed him castellan (governor) of a castle in Dover. The locals rebelled against this, resulting in fighting and 40 deaths. Dover was within Godwin's earldom, and Edward told Godwin to punish the citizens of Dover who had attacked Eustace. Godwin refused.

This refusal gave Edward the opportunity to deal with Godwin definitively. Robert of Jumièges claimed that Godwin wanted to kill the king, just like he had killed Edward's brother Alfred Ætheling. The other two most powerful earls in England, Leofric and Siward, supported the king against Godwin. Godwin's sons held earldoms, and called up their own men, but none were willing to fight against the king.

An Anglo-Saxon royal chaplain and advisor, Stigand, handled negotiations between the king and Godwin. When he carried the king's message to Godwin, that there could be peace if Godwin could restore Alfred Ætheling, Godwin took the hint: he fled to Flanders while his sons went to Ireland.

The incident with Eustace was obviously a turning point in the relationship between Edward and Godwin, but Robert of Jumièges definitely fanned the flames with his appointment to Canterbury, his claim of illegal possessions, and his claim that Godwin was planning assassination. Before we go further about Edward vs. Godwin (and that relationship is far from over), we should look more closely at Robert, what he did, and what happened to him.

(Note: as significant as Godwin was in his lifetime, there are no depictions of him that I can find. The illustration is of the coat of arms that is attributed to his son, Harold, after he became king. This design is displayed at Winchester Castle.)

Sweyn Godwinson, Rogue

Godwin, Earl of Wessex, was very powerful in the England of the 11th century, and he was able to procure good positions for his family. His son, Sweyn, was made an earl in the southwest Midlands by King Edward in 1043. This earldom included Gloucestershire, Herefordshire, Oxfordshire, Berkshire, and Somerset.

Sweyn was Godwin's eldest son, although he claimed at times to be the son of the former King Cnut. His mother Gytha, a sister-in-law of Cnut, denied this.

Sweyn managed some international diplomacy on his own, making peace with Gruffydd ap Llywelyn, the King of Gwynedd in northern Wales, which helped Llywelyn against his chief Welsh rival, the king of south Wales. The two men invaded south Wales together, after which Sweyn made a less-intelligent decision.

Sweyn abducted the Abbess of Leominster, Eadgifu ("Edith"), in order to force her to marry him and gain control of the estates attached to Leominster. King Edward refused to approve this marriage and sent Eadgifu back to the abbey. Sweyn left England to escape any threat of punishment, traveling to Flanders and then to Denmark, looking for support.

He came back to England in 1049 to ask to be forgiven and be reinstated in his earldom. (Records suggest that he was forced to leave Denmark due to some unknown action on his part.) His brother Harold Godwinson and cousin Beorn, who had both received earldoms as well, opposed his return. (His former lands had been divided between them, and they did not want to relinquish them.)

Sweyn convinced Beorn to support him in his audience with the king, but along the way Sweyn thought one way to get his lands back was to have Beorn murdered. Sweyn was condemned and sent to exile. In 1050, however, he was apparently pardoned, because he returned to England.

This was not the end of Sweyn's story, but the conclusion is not just about him, but includes his father and the rest of the family. Tomorrow we'll see what Edward did about the entire Godwin family. (The illustration is of two of Godwin's sons fighting at the court of King Edward.)

Edward and Godwin

When Edward the Confessor came to the throne in 1042, he was not in a good position. The country had swayed back and forth between English and Danish rule, and plenty of Danes were in powerful positions that an English king might have had difficulty dealing with. Much of the real estate of England was in the hands of others, even though he confiscated that of his mother, Emma, whose loyalty he justly mistrusted.

There were three powerful earls with whom he needed to stay on good terms: Godwin of Wessex, Leofric of Mercia, and Siward of Northumbria. Godwin, although English, had been loyal to the Danish Cnut (he married Cnut's sister-in-law, Gytha). "Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer." Edward had to keep close to Godwin for both those reasons.

In 1043, Edward made Godwin's eldest son (who had the Danish name Sweyn) an earl in the south-west Midlands. Godwin's son Harold Godwinson (later King Harold) was also given an earldom in southern England, and a cousin of theirs, Beorn (a nephew of Cnut!), also became an earl in the south. Godwin's family now owned all of southern England.

In January 1045 Edward married Godwin's daughter, Edith of Wessex, ensuring that a grandson of Godwin's could come king after Edward.

Despite all this favoritism shown to Godwin, we cannot forget what happened here: Godwin blinded Edward's brother at an earlier attempt by Edward to return to England. Edward had no love for Godwin, but needed to work with him when necessary for the sake of his own kingdom.

Edward did not do whatever Godwin asked, however. In 1045-46, Magnus the Good was threatening to attack England and re-create his father's empire. The Beorn mentioned above was the younger brother of Sweyn II of Denmark, who subordinated himself to King Edward to gain England's help in making Sweyn king of Denmark. Godwin demanded that Edward send aid to Sweyn, but Edward refused. This could have been disastrous for England, but for the fortunate event of Magnus' unexpected death ending his England aspirations.

Nor did Edward support Godwin's eldest son, Sweyn, when he screwed up, but that's a good story for tomorrow.

Edward and Emma

In 1037, Harold Harefoot was declared king in England. The next year he expelled Emma of Normandy, mother of his half-brother Harthacnut who was more loyal to Harthacnut (off consolidating power in Denmark) than to Harold. Emma went to Bruges in Flanders and summoned her step-son Edward, who had his own claim to the throne as the son of Æthelred the Unready, Emma's first husband who was defeated by Harthacnut's father and Emma's second husband, Cnut. Edward wanted no part of helping the person who stood in the way of Edward assuming his father's throne.

In 1040, Harthacnut was planning an invasion to take back the throne from his half brother, but Harold conveniently died, allowing Harthacnut (and Emma) to sail into England without opposition. One year later, however, Harthacnut invited Edward to England. Harthacnut was only in his twenties, but had not been well for a long time—tuberculosis has been suggested as the cause—and he may have felt he did not have long to live.

With no wife or children, Harthacnut wanted to name a successor, and he chose Edward (se above observing Christ in the Eucharist). According to the Encomium Emmae Reginae ("Encomium [Praise] of Queen Emma"), she was something of a co-ruler with Edward and the ailing Harthacnut.

On 8 June 1042, Harthacnut attended a wedding. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle reports:

Harthacnut died as he stood at his drink, and he suddenly fell to the earth with an awful convulsion; and those who were close by took hold of him, and he spoke no word afterwards.

Edward was supported by Godwin, Earl of Wessex (who had earlier been hostile to Edward's cause, capturing and blinding Edward's brother and causing his death). Edward was crowned on Easter Sunday, 3 April 1043. One of his first acts was to deprive his mother of all her property (which was extensive).

Confiscating her property was good for Edward, but he was still less powerful in real terms than his three leading earls: Godwin of Wessex, Leofric of Mercia, Siward of Northumbria. Also, Edward was a return of the throne to an English ruler, whereas the past several years had seen power growing in the hands of Danes. Leofric's family had served Æthelred, but Godwin had been loyal to Cnut (and was married to Cnut's sister-in-law), and Siward was probably Danish.

Dealing with his earls and increasing his own authority was crucial to his reign. We'll talk next time about some of the steps he took, some of them ruthless.

Magnus and Empire

Magnus Olafsson became king of Norway at the age of 11. He originally talked about getting revenge on those who were his father's enemies, but the court poet who named him and was his godfather, Sigvatr Þórðarson, convinced him that this was not a wise goal. This is why he was nicknamed "the Good."

He did, however, want to re-create the North Sea Empire of Cnut (England, Denmark, Norway). He managed to become king of Denmark at the death of Harthacnut because of a treaty they made not long before. Harthacnut had been king of both Denmark and England because of his father, Cnut. Harthacnut's death, however, did not automatically make Magnus his successor in England. The English nobles chose as Harthacnut's successor the son of Æthelred the Unready, whom Cnut had defeated. That son was Edward, later nicknamed "the Confessor" (first mentioned here in my pre-graphics days).

Curiously, Emma of Normandy (Æthelred's widow and Cnut's second wife) seemed to prefer Magnus over her own son. Edward confiscated her property on the rumor that she was promising to assist Magnus in his bid for the English throne. Still, the English nobles did not want Magnus, and his message to Edward that he was going to attack with an army of Danish and Norwegian men did not persuade anyone in England that this was a desirable plan.

Magnus had other issues than England. His uncle, Harald Hardrada, was contesting Magnus' rule in Norway. Sweyn Estridsen, who had challenged Magnus for Denmark and had been assuaged with a lieutenant's role in that country, continued to be hostile to Magnus. Harald and Sweyn made an alliance. Magnus, uncertain of his ability to definitively deal with Harald (without causing larger problems) made Harald co-king in Norway as of 1046. For his further interference, Sweyn was driven from Denmark by late 1046.

Things might have settled down. Magnus was now in his early 20s and ready to go for an English victory. On 25 October, 1047, however, he died—and we're not certain how. Reports vary: he was preparing a navy to attack England and fell off one of the boats and drowned, or he became ill while he was on a ship, or he fell off a horse. In a supposed declaration on his deathbed (which would preclude the drowning scenario) he proclaimed Sweyn his successor in Denmark and Harald in Norway. Whether he wanted that outcome, that is what happened.

He was buried near his father in Nidaros Cathedral.

So it looked like Edward would have no trouble about securing the throne? Ah, if only. See you tomorrow.

The Cinque Ports, Part 2

The Cinque Ports were, initially, five port towns on the southeast coast of England. Over the centuries, the rights and privileges granted to them in exchange for having ships and men available for the king's purposes were extended to other towns, but three of the original five—Dover, New Romney, and Sandwich—were mentioned as having this royal obligation as far back as the Domesday Book.

That royal obligation was laid out in statistical terms: the five had an annual obligation to provide 57 ships for 15 days of service, if requested. The motivation for the obligation was never put on paper. A chief assumption is that they were necessary as part of the royal navy for military purposes. The evidence, however, suggests that those towns did not contribute proportionately more than any other towns to military efforts.

Because the privileges granted (chiefly of self-governance and the ability to salvage and keep the flotsam and jetsam of wrecked ships) started in the time of Edward the Confessor, one assumption is that he simply wanted to ensure the loyalty of a handful of ports that were essential to control traffic and trade to the continent.

Their importance gave them seats in Parliament. Representatives to Parliament were called Barons of the Cinque Ports. These days, the "Baron of the Cinque Ports" is purely honorary and used for those elected by the mayor to attend coronations. The barons had the right to hold the canopy over the monarch during the coronation, a practice which was last enjoyed in 1821 for George IV. For the coronation of Charles III, 14 barons represented the Cinque Ports (five original ports, two "ancient towns," seven "limbs") in the congregation.

In the centuries that followed their establishment, weather was a strong enemy causing their decline. Floods, especially in 1287 and 1362, changed coastlines radically, silting up harbors or washing towns away. Sandwich and New Romney are now each more than a mile from the coast. Hastings was washed away by the sea in the above-mentioned floods, and the remaining town was raided and burnt by the French during the Hundred Years Wars. Dover is still a major port, but the decline of the significance of the Cinque Ports was fairly total by the time of Elizabeth I. Major shipbuilding sites in Bristol and Liverpool stole some of their thunder as well.

Next time, I'm going to focus on one of the five towns: Sandwich. (And yes, I will mention that story.)

Epilepsy in the Middle Ages

Anglo-Saxon England called it "devil-sickness" and felt that lupins were an effective treatment, and they might have been right. What did the rest of the world think of epilepsy?

Stone slabs dated to 1067 - 1046BCE in Babylon describe "falling sickness" caused by demons and ghosts. A 600BCE Persian text on health, the Avesta, mentions Zoroaster's advice to use sacrifices to prevent convulsions. Chinese health systems in 770BCE described acupuncture as a treatment.

It was the Greeks who coined the term "epilepsy" ("to seize" or "to attack") because they thought it was an attack from a god or demon. A Hippocratic collection of manuscripts called "The Sacred Disease" actually hit the target:

I am about to discuss the disease called “sacred”. It is not, in my opinion, any more divine or more sacred than any other diseases, but has a natural cause … Its origin, like that of other diseases, lies in heredity … the fact is that the cause of this affection … is the brain …

The cause he identified was an excess of phlegm in the blood. Plato agreed, but Aristotle believed it was vapors from certain foods that went into the brain during sleep. (The idea that epilepsy was a disorder of the brain would not be explored medically until the 1700s CE.)

Seizures in Medieval Europe were usually attributed to demonic possession, requiring exorcism and religious rituals. They drew this conclusion logically from Jesus curing a boy from seizures in Mark 9:14-16. It was also thought in England that the king had healing powers, even over epilepsy. Part of this cure was the handing out of rings.

These rings were called "cramp rings" because they were a preventive against cramp and epilepsy. Legend has it that the first cramp ring came from Jerusalem and was given by a pilgrim to Edward the Confessor. It was supposed to have miraculous healing powers. After Edward's death, it was given to the abbot of Westminster, who used it to try to cure people. It became known as St. Edward's Ring. Eventually this led to a Good Friday practice of the heirs of Edward blessing a number of gold or silver rings that would be handed out to prevent epilepsy. This ritual survived until the reign of Queen Mary I (1553 - 1558).

Cramp rings were not the only magical metals or magical charms in the Middle Ages. Tomorrow we'll have a brief exploration of more.

"The Hands of the King...

...are the hands of a healer." This line from The Lord of the Rings sounds fantastical, but as a first-rate historian and medievalist, J.R.R.Tolkien knew well the idea that the laying on of hands by a king (or queen: that's Mary I of England in the illustration) could heal illness. This was supposedly possible because of their "divine right" as anointed kings.

The King's Touch, or Royal Touch, was the practice of laying on of hands by English and French monarchs that was believed to cure diseases, particularly the King's Evil, scrofula. Hippocrates thought scrofula was a disproportionate accumulation of phlegm.

Scrofula, a disease of the lymph nodes, is now called mycobacterial cervical lymphadenitis, and is associated with tuberculosis. It usually manifests as a painless swelling in the lymph nodes of the neck caused by infection. It almost disappeared in the second half of the 20th century, but the appearance of HIV/AIDS has caused a small resurgence.

Where did the Royal Touch start? A 16th-century physician thought it began with Clovis I (reigned 481 - 511) after he accepted Christianity. Many other origins are offered. King Philip I of France (1052 - 1108) was perhaps the first time a king's touch was requested to heal a stubborn disease, so the French say. King Henry I of England (1068 - 1135) was appealed to for the same reason, although some scholars believe Edward the Confessor (reigned until 1066) was the first. The French denied this, and claimed that it started with Henry in England only because he was imitating Philip. What we can say is that records under Edward I show the practice of a penny given to sufferers afterward was established by 1276, two years after Edward's arrival back in England as king. Some say this means it was probably introduced by Edward's father, the pious Henry III, who was also a huge fan of Edward the Confessor and might have patterned his behavior after that monarch and therefore—but let's just stop there because there's too much speculation to reconcile all the conflicting theories. The record of tokens handed out suggests that Edward "touched" about a thousand people a year.

Scrofula became known as the "King's Evil" because an appeal to the king was considered the best recourse. John Gaddesden (1280 - 1361) recommends it as treatment for scrofula and other skin diseases. Eventually, a special gold-plated coin would be given by the king to the sufferer to be worn around the neck to ward off the disease. The truth is, the disease rarely was associated with death, and often went into remission on its own, supporting the notion that the king's touch cured the patient.

The Royal Touch persisted into the Renaissance, even though there was plenty of evidence that it did not inevitably lead to a cure. The formula in France added the line Le roi te touche, Dieu te guérisse ("The King touches you, may God heal you"), taking the burden of healing off the king's shoulders (or hands) and placing the possible healing on God. Louis XIV of France touched 1600 people on Easter 1680. Voltaire wrote that a mistress of Louis XIV died of scrofula despite "being very well touched by the king." Louis XV stopped the practice by not calling sufferers to be touched at Easter 1739. Louis XVI touched 2400 at his coronation in 1775, and Charles X touched 121 at his coronation in 1825, but there are no records of the Royal Touch being used after that date.

But where does the word scrofula come from? That's a slightly trickier question that will lead us into sympathetic magic and the Doctrine of Signatures. That's for another day.

Battle of Stamford Bridge, Part 1

In the absence of historical photographs, I give you Lego Stamford Bridge!

In the competition for the throne resulting from the death of Edward the Confessor, Harold Godwinson won out, but this did not sit well with his brother Tostig. Tostig had not been very successful in his position as Earl of Northumbria, but that did not mean he didn't think he deserved more than just being brother to a king. Harold needed a strong and united England to deal with the impending threat of William of Normandy, who also claimed the English throne, and he could not afford to have Tostig causing trouble (or just being weak) in the north.

Harold and his nobles exiled Tostig, who returned with a new ally: Harald Hardrada, King of Norway. Hardrada believed himself to be rightful King of Denmark as well, and given how many times Danes had invaded England and established footholds, he figure that he had a strong claim to England. In September of 1066, Tostig and Hardrada arrived in northern England with a fleet of about 300 ships (according to English sources; Snorri Sturluson's Norse account claims 200 ships, "not counting supply ships").

This force of about 9000 Vikings took York with little fighting after the Battle of Fulford. They took hostages, asked for tribute (supplies) to be delivered to a place called Stamford Bridge (presumably a decent open space that could accommodate thousands of men), and relaxed, figuring that there was no immediate danger from King Harold. After all, he was 190 miles away, guarding the shore at which he could expect William to land.

Word reached Harold on September 20th of the presence of the Norwegian army. Messengers were sent to other parts of the kingdom, and Harold and his thegns headed north. A mere four days later, they arrived at the town of Tadcaster, only 10 miles southwest of York. They had averaged 45 miles per day!

On 25 September 1066, the Battle of Stamford Bridge was swift and bloody. Details tomorrow...

Gisela of Hungary

Window at Cathedral of St. Michael
in Veszprém, Hungary, where Gisela is buried

Gisela (985 - 1065) was mentioned as the wife of King (later Saint) Stephen I, founder of Hungary. She was an important person in the christianization of Hungary and, as the daughter of Duke Henry II  of Bavaria, she was a link to Western Europe, becoming a part of which was one of Stephen's political goals.

She also had an interesting connection to England. When Edmund Ironside was defeated by King Cnut, his sons were sent abroad for safety and wound up in Hungary under the protection of Gisela. One of the sons died young, but the other, Edward Ætheling, was considered a rightful heir to the throne of England. (Known in England as Edward the Exile, he was recalled to England by the childless Edward the Confessor, who hoped to have in him a clear successor; within days of his arrival in 1057, he was dead, possibly killed by the powerful Godwins, who wanted their Harold to take the throne.)

When Stephen died in 1038, Gisela was forced to leave Hungary in the civil strife that followed. She became the abbess of a convent in Passau, in southern Bavaria in Germany. She lived there until her death in 1065.

She was buried in St. Michael's in Veszprém, Hungary, and venerated as a saint. An attempt at canonization failed in the 1700s, but she was labeled Beatus, Blessed Gisela. 

Statutes of William the Conqueror

William, Duke of Normandy, who won the Battle of Hastings and conquered England, has been brought up many times in this blog. He ruled for 20 years (25 December 1066 - 9 September 1087). In that time, you would imagine that he made many laws. In the best estimate of historians, he probably made ... ten. That is really all the we can be certain of, and here they are:

1. Firstly that, above all things, he wishes one God to lie venerated throughout his whole kingdom, one faith of Christ always to be kept inviolate, peace and security to be observed between the English and the Normans.

2. We decree also that every free man shall affirm by compact and an oath that, within and without England, he desires to be faithful to king William, to preserve with him his lands and his honour with all fidelity, and first to defend him against his enemies.

3. I will, moreover, that all the men whom I have brought with me, or who have come after me, shall be in my peace and quiet. And if one of them shall be slain, the lord of his murderer shall seize him within five days, if he can; but if not, he shall begin to pay to me forty six marks of silver as long as his possessions shall hold out. But when the possessions of the lord of that man are at an end the whole hundred in which the slaying took place shall pay in common what remains.

4. And every Frenchman who, in the time of my relative king Edward, was a sharer in England of the customs of the English, shall pay according to the law of the English what they themselves call onhlote and ascot.[*] This decree has been confirmed in the city of Gloucester.

5. We forbid also that any live cattle be sold or bought for money except within the cities, and this before three faithful witnesses; nor even anything old without a surety and warrant. But if he do otherwise he shall pay, and shall afterwards pay a fine.

6. It was also decreed there that if a Frenchman summon an Englishman for perjury or murder, theft, homicide, or " ran"-as the English call evident rape which can not be denied-the Englishman shall defend himself as he prefers, either through the ordeal of iron, or through wager of battle. But if the Englishman be infirm he shall find another who will do it for him. If one of them shall be vanquished he shall pay a fine of forty shillings to the king. If an Englishman summon a Frenchman, and be unwilling to prove his charge by judgment or by wager of battle, I will, nevertheless, that the Frenchman purge himself by an informal oath.

7. This also I command and will, that all shall hold and keep the law of Edward the king with regard to their lands, and with regard to all their possessions, those provisions being added which I have made for the utility of the English people.

8. Every man who wishes to be considered a freeman shall have a surety, that his surety may hold him and hand him over to justice if he offend in any way. And if any such one escape, his sureties shall see to it that, without making difficulties, they pay what is charged against him, and that they clear themselves of having known of any fraud in the matter of his escape. The hundred and county shall be made to answer as our predecessors decreed. And those that ought of right to come, and are unwilling to appear, shall be summoned once; and if a second time they are unwilling to appear, one ox shall be taken from them and they shall be summoned a third time. And if they do not come the third time, another ox shall be taken: but if they do not come the fourth time there shall be forfeited from the goods of that man who was unwilling to come, the extent of the charge against him—ceapgeld [**]as it is called—and besides this a fine to the king.

9. I forbid any one to sell a man beyond the limits of the country, under penalty of a fine in full to me.

10. I forbid that any one be killed or hung for any fault but his eyes shall be torn out or his testicles cut off. And this command shall not be violated under penalty of a fine in full to me. [source]

[*]The taxes and fees that allow participation in the community
[**]The forfeit of a beast

1066: The Other New King

Edgar and his sister, St. Margaret, landing at
Wearmouth after their ship was blown off course

Yesterday was the anniversary of the Battle of Hastings, when the forces of William the Conqueror (mentioned many times; see one of them here) defeated the English and killed King Harold Godwinson. The link in the previous sentence for the Battle of Hastings tells more of the story than is generally known, namely that Harold's army had been on the march and fighting for weeks prior to Hastings. Also not generally known is that someone was proclaimed King of England the day after the Battle of Hastings, and it was not William of Normandy.

Edward the Confessor supposedly saw the impending trouble with succession to the throne of England and saw a way out: he had a nephew who was the legitimate heir: Edward (1016-1057), called "the Exile, who had fled to Hungary after being ousted from England after the defeat of his father (Edmund II "Ironside," c.989-1016) by King Cnut. Edward the Confessor had called Edward the Exile back to England to make him his heir. Sadly, the Exile died very soon after his arrival back in England in 1057. History does not record a reason, but it is possible that he was eliminated by the Godwinsons, who were very powerful and wanted to see Harold succeed to the throne.

Edward the Exile had left children behind on the continent, however. Edgar the Ætheling (c.1051-c.1126) was only a teen in 1066, but his youth was no bar to the succession. The witenagemot, the council of wise men that approved the succession in Anglo-Saxon England, met in London and chose Edgar as king the day after Harold fell at Hastings, and sent for him to return to England and lead the opposition to William of Normandy.

The men who chose him, however, chose not to defend their choice and resist William as his forces approached; instead, they negotiated with William for a peaceful turnover of the kingdom. In December, the aristocracy of England met with William at Berkhamstead to submit themselves to his rule and hand over Edgar. William took Edgar and some other English leaders into custody in order to ensure future cooperation.

In 1068, Edgar fled captivity with his mother and two sisters (Margaret and Cristina) to return to Hungary, but their ship was blown off course and landed in the north of England, where they were taken in by Malcolm* III Canmore, king of Scotland. Malcolm married Edward's sister Margaret (who later became Saint Margaret). Edgar had an "on again, off again" relationship with William and an adventure-filled life. He was still alive in 1125 according to William of Malmesbury, so his date of death assumed to be c.1126.

*Malcolm was the model for the character in Shakespeare's MacBeth.

Building Westminster Abbey - Part 2

I started this here with the origins of what we now call "Westminster Abbey." A major rebuilding campaign began about 1245 by Henry III (1216-1272), who desired both to enhance the resting place of Edward the Confessor, whom he admired, and to create his own royal burial site. (Like Edward, Henry was buried in Westminster long before the construction was complete. Edward was re-interred in 1269 in a newly completed shrine.)

The task of reconstruction was enormous, and the fact that it took so long had nothing to do with a casual attitude to getting it done. The pace of some stages of work was staggering for the time. We have some of the records involved. Numbers of laborers fluctuated depending on the season and the finances available. There were some financial realities that caused occasional work stoppages. Only two people were paid a continuous wage: the two masters of the works, Master Henry and Master John of Gloucester.

Records for part of 1253 (end of April until early December, when most work would have paused for the winter), list the following workforce:

For wages of 39 white cutters [freestone masons] 14 marblers, 20 layers, 32 carpenters, together with John of St. Albans, 3 painters, 13 polishers, 19 smiths, 14 glaziers and 4 plumbers, £14 12s. For the wages of 150 laborers with Keepers, clerks and the charges of two carts daily £6 16s. [quoted in John Steane, The Archaeology of the Medieval English Monarchy]

The labor would have come from local hires or specialists who traveled from all over England to join the project. What about materials, however? The two Masters of the Works would travel to find suitable materials (we know this because the records showed them being paid double for travel expenses). For convenience, "buying local" would be best, and we know that many suppliers were London-based. For example, Richard of Eastcheap had apparently managed a monopoly on the wood used for scaffolding and ramps. Agnes of London not only was a major source of burnt lime used for concrete, she was responsible for organizing 440 cartloads of sand to the work site. Other references exist for two cartloads of charcoal provided by Roger of Barking, and carved stones from Roger of the Tower. Henry of Bridge supplied ironwork, especially nails. A 1265 record mentions a Richard who submitted a bill for 16.75 hundredweight* of lime. Some of these names re-occur for other building projects, such as the Tower of London.

The materials themselves would have come from all over. Some master masons came from Oxford, and   it is known that the Windsor Castle upgrade used stone quarried in Whately, a mere few miles from Oxford. Much of the material might have come from storage very close by: the southern end of London Bridge was home to a public works yard that maintained large stocks of timber, stone and ironwork to aid in the necessary upkeep of the Bridge.

*A hundredweight in England was approximately 116 pounds.

Thorkill of Arden

When Leofric, Earl of Mercia, died in 1057, his estate of Kingsbury passed to his widow, the Countess Godgifu, better known to later generations by the Latin version of her name, Godiva. The Domesday Book, compiled on King William's orders in 1086, lists her as a landowner as of the Conquest in 1066, but no longer. So where did her property go?

Prior to William of Normandy's attack in 1066, Edward the Confessor had been inviting Normans over the Channel as councilors; several of them had already been given lands. After 1066, Normans were put into all positions of power, and Saxon nobles were demoted to lesser landholders. Two Saxons, however, had chosen to support William in 1066. One of these was Thorkill of Arden (also called Turchill).

Early Heraldry for Arden

Thorkill's father, Æthelwine, was a nephew of Leofric and the Sheriff of Warwickshire in 1066. Perhaps Thorkill saw supporting William as a way to enhance his own standing. Perhaps he truly believed that William was the rightful ruler; reasons why he might were discussed here. Perhaps he just didn't like Harold. In any case, he was confirmed as Sheriff after his father's death.

At some point—the simplest explanation is the death of the Countess Godiva, whose date we do not know—King William gave Kingsbury and its 700 acres to Thorkill. This made Thorkill the sole member of the pre-1066 Saxon nobility to hold an estate of any significance at the time of Domesday.*

Thorkill held Kingsbury for several years; he is listed as the landowner in Domesday. King William's third son was crowned William II on 26 September, 1087 by Bishop Lanfranc. William II was in many ways a successful king, although not universally popular; perhaps confiscating people's lands had a role. William took Kingsbury away from Thorkill. That was not the end of the Arden family's prosperity, however: they remained prominent in Warwickshire politics. A descendant, Mary Arden, was the mother of Shakespeare.

*That is, of the nobility; Bishop Wulfstan of Worcester was, technically, the most powerful Englishman in 1086.

Leofric

Remember Edward the Confessor? He may have had good qualities, but getting along with family was not one of them. Not only was he harsh to his mother, he quarreled frequently with his father-in-law, Godwin, who happened to be one of the most powerful men in England. One of the quarrels between the two was "mediated" by Leofric, Earl of Mercia (d.1057).

King Cnut (c.985-1035) divided England into four provinces (East Anglia, Mercia, Northumbria, and Wessex) and gave each to an earl. The earldom of Mercia was given to Leofric after its original earl,  Eadric Streona, died in 1017 (within months of Cnut's division). The position meant Leofric was second in power to Godwin of Wessex.

When Cnut died, Leofric supported as his successor Harold Harefoot over Harthacnut. Harold was the son of Cnut's first wife, Ælfgifu, and Leofric may have been related to her. Harold became king, but when he died in 1040 and Harthacnut ascended the throne, Leofric must have felt a little awkward. Fortunately for Leofric, Harthacnut died in 1042, and his half-brother Edward the Confessor took the throne.

When Edward and Godwin quarreled in 1051, Leofric brought an army, along with Earl Siward of Northumbria, and joined Edward's troops in facing Godwin's forces. Leofric counseled that they should settle the conflict peacefully rather than risk destroying the fighting power of England. The result was Godwin's (brief) exile.

Life was good for Leofric, and his son Ælfgar replaced Godwin as Earl of Wessex; but Godwin and Edward were reconciled a year later, and Ælfgar had the humiliation of losing his earldom. In 1053, when Godwin died, Ælfgar got the position back again. Ælfgar seemed to follow in the footsteps of his predecessor, not his father, and was exiled in 1055, whereupon he raised a fleet and tried to attack England. But that's a different story.

Talk about a different story: I've left out one tidbit about Leofric—the one everyone knows, although they don't know they know it. Leofric and his wife, Godgifu (Anglo-Saxon for "god gift"), were very devout people. They endowed a Benedictine monastery in Coventry, and later records credit them with supporting monasteries at Chester, Evesham, Leominster and Much Wenlock. Some later writers claim she was the primary influence for her husband's generosity. In fact, there is a story (without evidence) that she was so opposed to the oppressive taxation imposed by her husband on his tenants, that she was willing to go through an 11th century version of "truth or dare." What we know of her husband suggests that not only would he not have been so cruel to his tenants, but neither would he force his pretty young wife to shame herself by riding naked through the streets of Coventry. Still, the story won't go away, although Godgifu probably wouldn't recognize either the telling or the Latinized version of her name, Godiva.

Who Will Rule?

In 1051, when King Edward the Confessor was inviting more friendly Normans to join him in England, Duke William of Normandy visited. According to records made after 1066 but before William's death in 1087, William reported that Edward (who was celibate and would have no heirs of his own) told William that William would be his heir to the throne of England.

In 1064 (two years before Edward the Confessor's death), Harold Godwinson (the most powerful lord in England after the king; his sister was married to Edward) was shipwrecked off the coast of Normandy and held captive by Count Guy of Ponthieu.* Duke William of Normandy told Guy to release him; this was done, and Harold was returned to England, but only after swearing on holy relics that he would recognize William as his king in the future. (This is according to reports written long after the fact by William's chroniclers.)

When Edward died in 1066, Harold claimed that Edward had made a deathbed pronouncement, naming Harold his heir.

There was also a third claimant to the throne, although the least convincing. King Harald Hardrada of Norway and Denmark believed that he was the proper heir, because Danes had conquered England so many times in the past. A tenuous claim, but strengthened by the fact that he was supported by Tostig, the brother of Harold Godwinson! (Ahh, the days when sibling rivalry had higher stakes!)

The problem with all these claims?

In primarily Anglo-Saxon England, the next king was chosen by the witenagemot, the meeting of wise men. Kings might name a successor, but the Witan was needed to approve a ruler.

So who pressed their claim?

All of them.

I'll tell you the unhappy (for Harold) result tomorrow.

*Note: This is about the only reason why anyone studying history cares about Guy of Ponthieu. Feel free to forget the name.