1066

by G. K. Holloway

  ‘Earl Godwin,’ replied the King quite sternly, ‘the Normans could deprive any enemy fleet of access to its ports. Our fleet could roam at will and if by chance it ran into trouble, our Norman friends would be there to offer shelter.’

  ‘Why should we have to rely on them, my Lord? Why rely on foreigners?’

  ‘Aren’t we relying on foreigners now?’

  ‘But they are Danes and we have close ties with them.’

  ‘Some of us do,’ replied Edward, ‘and some of us have ties with Normandy.’

  Godwin and Harold continued to argue in vain but when a vote was taken it was determined that the foreign fleet would leave.

  Edward addressed the council hardly able to suppress a smile. ‘We have the business of the vacant see of the archbishop of Canterbury, and I would like to announce that my preferred choice is Robert de Jumieges, Bishop of London.’

  ‘I’ll support that,’ called Earl Leofric in an instant.

  ‘Are there any other proposals?’ enquired the King.

  One of the Canterbury monks called out, ‘My Lord, as representative of the monks of Christchurch, Canterbury, I am authorised by my fellows to propose one of our own number, Athelric, to succeed Archbishop Eadsige.’

  Athelric was Godwin’s cousin and close enough to the earl to have been chosen to preside over Tostig’s and Judith’s wedding. Godwin had supported Christchurch in its temporal business since Archbishop Eadsige had become too infirm to do it himself. Athelric had taken over Eadsige’s clerical duties and had impressed Godwin with his abilities. Several times Earl Godwin had spoken to the King on Athelric’s behalf but this had only made the King more determined to offer the archbishopric to de Jumieges.

  ‘Will anyone second this proposal?’ asked the King.

  ‘I will,’ answered Godwin.

  ‘And why would you do that, Earl Godwin?’

  ‘It would seem only natural to me that Athelric, who has been acting archbishop these last six years and has the support of the monks of Christchurch, should step into Archbishop Eadsige’s shoes. Has he not performed his tasks well?’

  Edward looked down at Godwin as if considering his answer. ‘Athelric has performed his tasks admirably, which I am sure nobody would deny. However, I feel it is time we moved towards a reformation of our Church, as we did in Dunstan’s time. We need a change of course and that means a new steersman at the helm, someone who has experience in these matters; in short, Bishop Robert.’

  Leofric, Siward and Ralph all agreed, as did those of the clergy who were to benefit from the appointments Edward would make later in the day. By the time the council finished its business, de Jumieges was appointed Archbishop of Canterbury and the views of Godwin and the monks of Christchurch were disregarded.

  Edward was now beginning to assert his independence. He appointed as Bishop of London the Abbot of Abingdon and royal goldsmith Spearhavoc, even though De Jumieges favoured William, a Norman and a royal clerk.

  Cynsige, a royal clerk who had wormed his way into Edward’s affections, was appointed Archbishop of York. Ealdred had hoped to get this position, for the tradition was that the Bishop of Worcester was first in line to the northern metropolitan see, but he was disappointed.

  Stigand, Bishop of Elmham and Winchester had remained in the background. Like most bishops he too had designs on Canterbury, but told himself he could afford to wait until another day; in the meantime, he would work to build up allegiances.

  Edward was pleased the promotion of Robert de Jumieges brought the feelings between the bishop and the earl into the open. Robert could fight the King’s battles for him and could see the King’s favourite, whom he loathed, reach the highest position in the English Church. De Jumieges, from his exalted position, thought he could attack the earl whenever the fancy took him.

  Within a week of taking up his new office, de Jumieges returned to Westminster to visit Edward and accuse Godwin of usurping lands belonging to Christchurch. This was just the sort of thing Edward wanted to hear and came even sooner than he had hoped. He summoned Godwin to explain his actions at a private meeting. Godwin had assumed the meeting would include himself, de Jumieges and Edward. To his surprise, apart from de Jumieges, there were four other men waiting with the King. They were Spearhavoc, the newly appointed Bishop of London, Rothulf, the newly appointed Abbot of Abingdon, Earl Ralph, the King’s nephew, who was now growing his hair long in the English fashion and the monk Herman, now a royal clerk.

  After a few formalities, Edward opened the proceedings. ‘Earl Godwin, you know why you’ve been summoned to see me?’

  ‘I understand I am to answer questions about irregularities concerning land I own in Kent, my Lord. I know nothing more than that.’

  ‘Yes, that is correct but this is not a trial. This is merely an opportunity for you to explain your actions concerning land you say you own in Kent.’

  ‘I see, my Lord. Would you tell me exactly what actions of mine need explaining?’

  Edward turned to de Jumieges. ‘Archbishop.’

  ‘My Lord, these are the irregularities: Earl Godwin, after the death of my predecessor Archbishop Eadsige, took advantage of the opportunity provided by the grief and mourning of the monks of Christchurch, to usurp church land and use it as his own. Before he was even cold in his grave, Earl Godwin’s men were ploughing and sowing the late Archbishop Eadsige’s land, church land, in order to seek profit.’

  ‘Well, Earl Godwin, what have you say to that?’ enquired the King.

  ‘The lands I believe Archbishop Robert refers to are my estates in Folkestone, my Lord. I made a grant of them for life to Archbishop Eadsige.’

  ‘There you are, he admits it!’ snapped de Jumieges.

  ‘If you’ll just let me finish, Archbishop,’ continued Godwin. ‘Thank you. Upon Eadsige’s death the estates would revert back to me, or in the event of my death, my eldest surviving son.’

  ‘No. No. The lands should go to the next Archbishop, which in this case is me. Those lands rightfully belong to me. You should deal with Earl Godwin most severely, my Lord.’

  ‘Earl Godwin, what do you say to that?’

  ‘The lands I granted Archbishop Eadsige were not comital estates, my Lord, but held privately by me. The relevant documents are at Winchester and if Archbishop Robert had taken the trouble, he could have seen them for himself.’

  ‘If the lands are his, as he claims, why hasn’t he passed them on to me?’

  Godwin was beginning to lose his temper now. ‘My Lord, I see no reason to make a gift of estates to Bishop Robert. They are my lands and I am free to give them to whom I wish on whatever conditions I choose.’

  ‘Is that so?’ snapped de Jumieges.

  Ignoring de Jumieges, Godwin continued, ‘As a matter of fact, the writ now granting that land to Tostig has already been drawn up. It awaits your seal of approval, my Lord.’

  ‘This is outrageous. That land is rightfully mine,’ interjected de Jumieges.

  Godwin looked to the King for support.

  ‘If what he says is true I don’t see what case Earl Godwin has to answer,’ said the King, with disappointment. ‘If the land is his, he is free to make a grant of it to whomsoever he chooses.’

  ‘Quite right,’ chirped Spearhavoc.

  ‘Yes. Quite right,’ volunteered Earl Ralph, rather timidly.

  ‘In that case, unless you have anything to add, you may go, Earl Godwin,’ said the King, hoping his father-in-law would leave immediately.

  ‘As a matter of fact I do have something to say. I’ve been called here today, my Lord, at short notice, away from urgent business. I have had to answer unsubstantiated accusations by, if I may say so, an overzealous hierophant …’

  ‘Archbishop to you, Godwin,’ spat de Jumieges.

  ‘…who knows not his business nor for that matter anyone else’s. I demand an apology.’

  ‘You will address me as Archbishop.’

  ‘You are not Archbishop yet. You hav
e a pallium to receive, if I’m not mistaken.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘Exactly what I say and you will address me as Earl, as is befitting.’

  ‘Earl Godwin’s quite right,’ chipped in Spearhavoc.

  ‘What?’ spat de Jumieges.

  ‘Earl Godwin is quite right: he should be addressed as Earl,’ the bishop repeated.

  ‘Thank you, Bishop Spearhavoc. And now my apology, if you please,’ demanded Godwin, glaring straight at de Jumieges.

  De Jumieges looked to the King, hoping for a favourable response. King Edward, mortified by the whole business, averted his gaze.

  Godwin took a step forward. ‘I’m waiting.’

  ‘I’ll not apologise to you. You have not yet proved the land is yours,’ Robert replied.

  Godwin took another step forward; this time his hand went to his sword. De Jumieges was alarmed. ‘So, you would strike an archbishop?’

  ‘Not usually, but I would gladly make an exception for you.’

  The King, fearing violence, interrupted. ‘My Lords, calm please, calm. Why can’t you discuss this as civilized people?’

  ‘Because one of us is a Norman and a liar,’ answered Godwin.

  ‘That is a gross insult.’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘Enough!’ barked Edward. ‘That’s enough, Godwin. Earl Godwin,’ the King corrected himself. ‘The documents will be checked and if they bear out the Earl’s account then no more will be heard of this matter.’

  ‘What about my apology?’

  ‘You’ll get your apology when we’ve seen the documents,’ said de Jumieges, taking it upon himself to reply for the King.

  ‘Earl. My title is Earl.’

  ‘You heard the King, the matter is closed.’

  ‘The earl is right. You do owe him an apology.’ It was Spearhavoc again.

  ‘This is none of your business,’ hissed de Jumieges.

  ‘Then why was I invited here?’

  ‘Quiet!’

  ‘No, I will not be quiet,’ replied Spearhavoc. Then, turning his attention to Edward, ‘I was informed I was to be a witness to events here this morning and so far all I have seen is Earl Godwin accused of a crime which as far as I can tell has not been committed and I have seen him treated scandalously by Bishop Robert.’

  ‘Archbishop Robert,’ interrupted de Jumieges.

  Spearhavoc continued, ‘As Earl Godwin so rightly pointed out, you have yet to receive your pallium. Now, why don’t you apologise?’

  ‘Yes, why doesn’t the Archbishop apologise?’ asked Abbot Rothulf, speaking for the first time.

  ‘I think he ought to,’ offered Earl Ralph, ‘it’s only proper.’

  King Edward looked studiously at his Archbishop. There seemed nothing else for it. ‘I think you owe Earl Godwin an apology, Robert.’

  ‘What! I apologise to him? Never!’

  ‘It would be better if you did.’

  ‘Never!’ and with that he flounced out of the room muttering incoherently to himself.

  Godwin looked over to Edward; there was a sparkle in the Earl’s eyes and the corners of his mouth curled barely perceptibly upward. ‘He is more temperamental than I thought. Perhaps the responsibilities of being an archbishop are too much for him. I hope he feels better soon.’

  Edward said nothing.

  ‘Is that all, my Lord?’

  ‘Yes, Earl Godwin. You may go.’

  Later that day when de Jumieges was alone with the King, he expressed the rage he felt towards Godwin. ‘Did you see how he wriggled out of it, the scheming snake?’

  Edward, who had had enough of Godwin for one day, started towards the door as he answered, ‘My dear Robert, I am afraid we will have to try harder than that to snare that particular snake. He is a clever man and if what he says is verified, and I am sure it will be, then he has won the case very much at your expense.’

  ‘He’s made fools of us both, my Lord.’

  ‘Both of us, Robert! Surely not, it was you who made the accusations; I was merely the impartial judge. No, it is you who have been made the fool.’

  ‘Well, it won’t happen again.’

  ‘I should very much hope not.’

  ‘You realise it’s more than wounded pride that’s at stake here?’

  ‘Robert, what do you mean?’ asked Edward, now standing in the hallway.

  ‘I think he knows something. I think he suspects we intend to get rid of him and like a cornered rat he’s a danger, a real menace. Being the Earl of Wessex isn’t enough for him. His ambitions are limitless, his lust for power insatiable. You do know, don’t you, my Lord, Godwin intends to kill you, just as he killed your brother. You can see it in his eyes; he has the black heart of a murderer.’

  Edward stared back at de Jumieges, eyes and mouth wide open.

  ‘Make sure you are never alone with him. You are too trusting, which is why you need someone like me to look after your interests. We need to talk more about this at another time. Goodbye, my Lord.’

  Speechless, Edward turned and walked away, leaving a seething de Jumieges behind him. There was a heavy thud as the door closed.

  Over the next few weeks, Edward’s relationship with de Jumieges grew frosty. Forgiveness was not part of de Jumieges’ nature and he was enraged by what he considered Edward’s act of disloyalty. One evening, as the two men were leaving the King’s private chapel, making their way to the great hall, Edward thanked de Jumieges for the opportunity to pray together and explained how he thought he was more skilled in confidential spiritual matters than Spearhavoc, although he did consider the Bishop gifted.

  ‘I appreciate your saying that, my Lord but I’m afraid I’ve some bad news for you about Bishop Spearhavoc.’

  ‘What is it, Archbishop?’

  ‘I’m afraid I’m unable to consecrate him as Bishop of London. His Holiness has forbidden me.’

  ‘What’s has it to do with His Holiness?’

  ‘He has prohibited me from consecrating Spearhavoc on grounds of simony.’

  ‘Simony? Don’t be ridiculous. How could he accuse him of simony?’ Then Edward stopped in his tracks and repeated his question more meaningfully. ‘How could the Pope accuse Spearhavoc of simony? Even if it were true, news would have had to travel very quickly. How could that be, Robert?’

  ‘I’m sure I’ve no idea, my Lord.’

  ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘No, my Lord, I don’t.’

  ‘Well, it makes no difference. Since it’s unprecedented for the Pope to interfere with episcopal appointments in my kingdom, you can still consecrate him.’

  ‘I fear I can’t go against the instructions of the Pope, my Lord, not even for you, especially if you want to reform the Church, so there is nothing you can do.’

  ‘We’ll see about that, Robert. If you won’t consecrate Spearhavoc because of a papal prohibition, then we must get it lifted. In the meantime, Spearhavoc will remain in possession of London and I shall write to the Pope immediately.’

  ‘Very well, my Lord,’ replied the Archbishop. He was not at all unsettled by Edward’s threat. King and Archbishop continued the rest of their short walk in silence. When they entered the great hall, everyone stood and the courtiers fell silent. Edward and Robert made their way to the dais and took their places. It was not until they sat down that de Jumieges noticed sitting along the high table next to Godwin, his son Sweyn. Smiling, they sat looking directly at the Archbishop. Robert was livid and sat rigid in his seat, unable to believe his eyes. Godwin and Sweyn could barely repress their laughter.

  Godwin was overjoyed at de Jumieges’ shock on discovering Sweyn back in court. However, his happiness was soon soured when he discovered his old enemy had refused to consecrate Spearhavoc, especially when it was an open secret that it could not have been anyone but de Jumieges who had made the accusation. De Jumieges had cleared the way for his favourite William, the royal clerk. The Archbishop had also been busy revealing to the King va
rious murder plots he had uncovered; Godwin was always the mastermind behind them. Throughout July and August tension mounted and by the end of the summer, relations between Godwin and de Jumieges were about to erupt. The Archbishop had found fuel to add to the fire in the form of his new ally from across the English Channel.

  The Count of Boulogne

  In his private chambers Edward sat talking with his brother-in-law Eustace, Count of Boulogne and Robert de Jumieges.

  ‘So, Count Eustace, to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit? Have you come to enquire after the health of Earl Ralph?’ Edward enquired.

  ‘I have no need to enquire of his health, my Lord, I saw with my own eyes how he thrives. You have reason to be proud.’

  ‘So do you, Count Eustace; you’re his stepfather, after all, and he did spend his early years with you.’

  ‘Thank you, my Lord; it’s most kind of you to say.’

  ‘Not at all. How’s my other nephew, Count Walter?’

  ‘He enjoys fine health, my Lord, as does your sister, Lady Godgifu.’

  ‘Good. Then all’s well in Boulogne?’

  ‘Let me explain. As you’re no doubt aware, Duke William of Normandy is seeking the hand of Matilda of Flanders and you can imagine my court and I are a little disturbed by this news. If Baldwin gives his permission for the marriage, Boulogne will be surrounded by Flanders and its friends and I’ll left with my back to the sea.’

  ‘You will indeed.’

  ‘Naturally, we look to our friends for support. We would not expect help without returning the favour.’

  ‘How do you intend to return this favour, should it be granted?’

  ‘In Boulogne, we think that the English are not in favour of the marriage. If Normandy and Flanders were to grow closer together, they could provide more places for enemies to hide and together they could severely restrict any control England has of the Channel. If they, heaven forbid, took control of Boulogne and Ponthieu, they would have continuous coastline for hundreds of miles. A Boulogne friendly towards England would break that hold. So, you see, you would benefit too.’

  ‘Do you offer anything else, Count Eustace?’

  ‘The atmosphere at court is tense, wouldn’t you say?’