KING HAROLD, son of Earl Godwin of Boseham
(Bosham).elpt
vol. 2 of The Prose Works of John Milton. circa 1670
Harold, whether by King Edward a little before his death ordained
successor to the crown, as Simeon of Durham and others affirm;* or by the
prevalence of his faction, excluding Edgar the right heir, grandchild to
Edmund Ironside, as Malmsbury and Huntingdon agree; no sooner was the
funeral of King Edward ended, but on the same day was elected and crowned
king: and no sooner placed in the throne, but began to frame himself by
all manner of compliances to gain affection, endeavoured to make good
laws, repealed bad, became a great patron to church and churchmen,
courteous and affable to all reputed good, a hater of evil doers, charged
all his officers to punish thieves, robbers, and all disturbers of the
peace, while he himself by sea and land laboured in the defence of his
country: so good an actor is ambition.
In the mean while a blazing star,
seven mornings together, about the end of April was seen to stream
terribly, not only over England, but other parts of the world; foretelling
here, as was thought, the great changes approaching: plainliest
prognosticated by Elmer, a monk of Malmsbury, who could not foresee, when
time was, the breaking of his own legs for soaring too high. He in his
youth strangely aspiring, had made and fitted wings to his hands and feet;
with these on the top of a tower, spread out to gather air, he flew more
than a furlong; but the wind being too high, came fluttering down, to the
maiming of all his limbs; yet so conceited of his art, that he attributed
the cause of his fall to the want of a tail, as birds have, which he
forgot to make to his hinder parts. This story, though seeming otherwise
too light in the midst of a sad narration, yet for the strangeness
thereof, I thought worthy enough the placing, as I found it placed in my
author.
But to digress no father: Tosti the king’s brother coming from
Flanders, full of envy at his younger brother’s advancement to the crown,
resolved what he might to trouble his reign; forcing therefore them of
Wight Isle to contribution, he sailed thence to Sandwich, committing
piracies on the coast between. Harold, then residing at London, with a
great number of ships drawn together, and of horse troops by land,
prepares in person for Sandwich: whereof Tosti having notice directs his
course with sixty ships towards Lindsey, taking with him all the seamen
he found, willing or unwilling; where he burnt many villages, and slew
many of the inhabitants; but Edwin the Mercian duke, and Morcar his
brother, the Northumbrian earl, with their forces on either side, soon
drove him out of the country. Who thence betook him to Malcolm the
Scottish king, and with him abode the whole summer. About the same time
duke William sending ambassadors to admonish Harold of his promise and
oath, to assist him in his plea to the kingdom, he made answer, that by
the death of his daughter betrothed to him on that condition, he was
absolved of his oath; or not dead, he could not take her now an
outlandish woman, without consent of the realm; that it was presumptuously
done, and not to be persisted in, if without consent or knowledge of the
states, he had sworn away the right of the kingdom; that what he swore was
to gain his liberty, being in a manner then his prisoner; that it was
unreasonable in the duke, to require or expect of him the foregoing of a
kingdom, conferred upon him with universal favour and acclamation of the
people. To this flat denial he added contempt, sending the messengers
back, saith Matthew Paris, on maimed horses.
The duke, thus contemptuously
put off, addresses himself to the pope, setting forth the justice of his
cause; which Harold, whether through haughtiness of mind, or distrust, or
that the ways to Rome were stopped, sought not to do. Duke William,
besides the promise and oath of Harold, alleged that King Edward, by the
advice of Seward, Godwin himself, and Stigand the archbishop, had given
him the right of succession, and had sent him the son and nephew of
Godwin, pledges of the gift: the pope sent to duke William, after this
demonstration of his right, a consecrated banner. Whereupon he having with
great care and choice got an army of tall and stout soldiers, under
captains of great skill and mature age, came in August to the port of St.
Valerie. Meanwhile Harold from London comes to Sandwich, there expecting
his navy; which also coming, he sails to the Isle of Wight; and having
heard of duke William’s preparations and readiness to invade him, kept
good watch on the coast, and foot forces every where in fit places to
guard the shore. But ere the middle of September, provision failing when
it was most needed, both fleet and army return home. When on a sudden,
Harold Harvager king of Norway, with a navy of more than five hundred
great ships,* (others lessen them by two hundred, others augment them to a
thousand,) appears at the mouth of the Tine; to whom earl Tosti with his
ships came as was agreed between them; whence both uniting set sail with
all speed, and entered the river Humber. Thence turning into Ouse, as far
as Rical, landed, and won York by assault. At these tidings Harold with
all his power hastes thitherward; but ere his coming, Edwin and Morcar at
Fulford by York, on the north side of Ouse, about the feast of St. Matthew
had given them battle; successfully at first, but overborn at length with
numbers; and forced to turn their backs, more of them perished in the
river than in the fight.
The Norwegians taking with them five hundred hostages out of York, and
leaving there one hundred and fifty of their own, retired to their ships.
But the fifth day after, King Harold with a great and well-appointed army
coming to York, and at Stamford bridge, or Battle bridge on Darwent,
assailing the Norwegians, after much bloodshed on both sides, cut off the
greatest part of them, with Harvager their king, and Tosti his own
brother.† But Olave the king’s son, and Paul earl of Orkney, left with
many soldiers to guard the ships, surrendering themselves with hostages,
and oath given never to return as enemies, he suffered freely to depart
with twenty ships, and the small remnant of their army. One man‡ of the
Norwegians is not to be forgotten, who with incredible valor keeping the
bridge a long hour against the whole English army, with his single
resistance delayed their victory; and scorning offered life, till in the
end no man daring to grapple with him, either dreaded as too strong, or
contemned as one desperate, he was at length shot dead with an arrow; and
by his fall opened the passage of pursuit to a complete victory. Wherewith
Harold lifted up in mind, and forgetting now his former shows of
popularity, defrauded his soldiers their due and well-deserved share of
the spoils.
While these things passed in Northumberland, duke William lay still at St.
Valerie; his ships were ready, but the wind served not for many days;
which put the soldiery into much discouragement and murmur, taking this
for an unlucky sign of their success; at last the wind came favourable,
the duke first under sail awaited the rest at anchor, till all coming
forth, the whole fleet of nine hundred ships with a prosperous gale
arrived at Hastings. At his going out of the boat by a slip falling on his
hands, to correct the omen,§ a soldier standing by said aloud, that their
duke had taken possession of England. Landed, he restrained his army from
waste and spoil, saying that they ought to spare what was their own. But
these things are related of Alexander and Cæsar, and I doubt thence
borrowed by the monks to inlay their story. The duke for fifteen days
after landing kept his men quiet within the camp, having taken the castle
of Hastings, or built a fortress there. Harold secure the while, and proud
of his new victory, thought all his enemies now under foot: but sitting
jollily at dinner, news is brought him that duke William of Normandy with
a great multitude of horse and foot, slingers and archers, besides other
choice auxiliaries which he had hired in France, was arrived at Pevensey.
Harold, who had expected him all the summer, but not so late in the year
as now it was, for it was October, with his forces much diminished after
two sore conflicts, and the departing of many others from him
discontented, in great haste marches to London. Thence not tarrying for
supplies, which were on their way towards him, hurries into Sussex, (for
he was always in haste since the day of his coronation,) and ere the third
part of his army could be well put in order, finds the duke about nine
miles from Hastings, and now drawing nigh, sent spies before him to survey
the strength and number of his enemies: them discovered, such the duke
causing to be led about, and after well filled with meat and drink, sent
back. They not otherwise brought word, that the duke’s army were most of
them priests; for they saw their faces all over shaven; the English then
using to let grow on their upper lip large mustachios, as did anciently
the Britons. The king laughing answered, that they were not priests, but
valiant and hardy soldiers. Therefore said Girtha his brother, a youth of
noble courage and understanding above his age, “Forbear thou thyself to
fight, who art obnoxious to duke William by oath, let us unsworn undergo
the hazard of battle, who may justly fight in the defence of our country;
thou, reserved to fitter time, mayest either reunite us flying, or revenge
us dead.” The king not hearkening to this, lest it might seem to argue
fear in him or a bad cause, with like resolution rejected the offers of
duke William sent to him by a monk before the battle, with this only
answer hastily delivered, “Let God judge between us.”
The offers were
these, that Harold would either lay down the sceptre, or hold it of him,
or try his title with him by single combat in sight of both armies, or
refer it to the pope. These rejected, both sides prepared to fight the
next morning, the English from singing and drinking all night, the Normans
from confession of their sins, and communion of the host. The English were
in a strait disadvantageous place, so that many, discouraged with their
ill ordering, scarce having room where to stand, slipped away before the
onset, the rest in close order, with their battleaxes and shields, made an
impenetrable squadron: the king himself with his brothers on foot stood by
the royal standard, wherein the figure of a man fighting was inwoven with
gold and precious stones. The Norman foot, most bowmen, made the foremost
front, on either side wings of horse somewhat behind. The duke arming, and
his corslet given him on the wrong side, said pleasantly, “The strength of
my dukedom will be turned now into a kingdom.” Then the whole army singing
the song of Rowland, the remembrance of whose exploits might hearten them,
imploring lastly divine help, the battle began; and was fought sorely on
either side: but the main body of English foot by no means would be
broken, till the duke causing his men to feign flight, drew them out with
desire of pursuit into open disorder, then turned suddenly upon them so
routed by themselves, which wrought their overthrow, yet so they died not
unmanfully, but turning oft upon their enemies, by the advantage of an
upper ground, beat them down by heaps, and filled up a great ditch with
their carcasses.
Thus hung the victory wavering on either side from the
third hour of day to evening; when Harold having maintained the fight with
unspeakable courage and personal valor, shot into the head with an arrow,
fell at length, and left his soldiers without heart longer to withstand
the unwearied enemy. With Harold fell also his two brothers, Leofwin and
Girtha, with them greatest part of the English nobility. His body lying
dead a knight or soldier wounding on the thigh, was by the duke presently
turned out of military service. Of Normans and French were slain no small
number; the duke himself that day not a little hazarded his person, having
had three choice horses killed under him. Victory obtained, and his dead
carefully buried, the English also by permission, he sent the body of
Harold to his mother without ransom, though she offered very much to
redeem it; which having received she buried at Waltham, in a church built
there by Harold. In the mean while, Edwin and Morcar, who had withdrawn
themselves from Harold, hearing of his death, came to London; sending
Aldgith the queen their sister with all speed to West-chester.—Aldred
archbishop of York, and many of the nobles, with the Londoners, would have
set up Edgar the right heir, and prepared themselves to fight for him; but
Morcar and Edwin not liking the choice, who each of them expected to have
been chosen before him, withdrew their forces, and returned home.
Duke
William, contrary to his former resolution, (if Florent of Worcester, and
they who follow him,* say true,) wasting, burning, and slaying all in his
way; or rather, as saith Malmsbury, not in hostile but in regal manner,
came up to London, met at Barcham by Edgar, with the nobles, bishops,
citizens, and at length Edwin and Morcar, who all submitted to him, gave
hostages and swore fidelity, he to them promised peace and defence; yet
permitted his men the while to burn and make prey. Coming to London with
all his army, he was on Christmas-day solemnly crowned in the great church
at Westminster, by Aldred archbishop of York, having first given his oath
at the altar, in presence of all the people, to defend the church, well
govern the people, maintain right law, prohibit rapine and unjust
judgment. Thus the English, while they agreed not about the choice of
their native king, were constrained to take the yoke of an outlandish
conqueror. With what minds and by what course of life they had fitted
themselves for this servitude, William of Malmsbury spares not to lay
open. Not a few years before the Normans came, the clergy, though in
Edward the Confessor’s days, had lost all good literature and religion,
scarce able to read and understand their Latin service; he was a miracle
to others who knew his grammar. The monks went clad in fine stuffs, and
made no difference what they eat; which though in itself no fault, yet to
their consciences was irreligious. The great men, given to gluttony and
dissolute life, made a prey of the common people, abusing their daughters
whom they had in service, then turning them off to the stews; the meaner
sort tippling together night and day, spent all they had in drunkenness,
attended with other vices which effeminate men’s minds. Whence it came to
pass, that carried on with fury and rashness more than any true fortitude
or skill of war, they gave to William their conqueror so easy a conquest.
Not but that some few of all sorts were much better among them; but such
was the generality. And as the long-suffering of God permits bad men to
enjoy prosperous days with the good, so his severity ofttimes exempts not
good men from their share in evil times with the bad.
If these were the causes of such misery and thraldom to those our
ancestors, with what better close can be concluded, than here in fit
season to remember this age in the midst of her security, to fear from
like vices, without amendment, the revolution of like calamities?
EARL GODWIN, EDWARD THE CONFESSOR &
BOSHAM |
