“Majesty and love
But ill accord, nor share the self-same seat,”
that he patiently suffered himself to be completely governed by her, though he was at the same time desirous of ruling over every other person. Lastly, for several years, merely through regard for her, he suffered himself to be pointed at like an idiot, and to be excommunicated from the whole Christian world. The sons of Fulk were Geoffrey and Fulk. Geoffrey obtaining the hereditary surname of Martel, ennobled it by his exertions: for he procured such peace and tranquillity in those parts, as no one ever had seen, or will see in future. On this account being killed by the treachery of his people, he forfeited the credit of his consummate worth. Fulk succeeding to the government, is yet living;[296] of whom as I shall perhaps have occasion to speak in the times of king Henry, I will now proceed to relate what remains concerning William.
[A.D. 1058.] GEOFFREY MARTEL.
When, after much labour, he had quelled all civil dissension, he meditated an exploit of greater fame, and determined to recover those countries anciently attached to Normandy, though now disunited by long custom. I allude to the counties of Maine and Brittany; of which Mans, long since burnt by Martel and deprived of its sovereign Hugo, had lately experienced some little respite under Herbert the son of Hugo; who, with a view to greater security against the earl of Anjou, had submitted, and sworn fidelity to William: besides, he had solicited his daughter in marriage, and had been betrothed to her, though he died by disease ere she was marriageable. He left William his heir, adjuring his subjects to admit no other; telling them, they might have, if they chose, a mild and honourable lord; but, should they not, a most determined assertor of his right. On his decease, the inhabitants of Maine rather inclined to Walter of Mantes, who had married Hugo’s sister: but at length, being brought to their senses by many heavy losses, they acknowledged William. This was the time, when Harold was unwillingly carried to Normandy by an unpropitious gale; whom, as is before mentioned, William took with him in his expedition to Brittany, to make proof of his prowess, and, at the same time, with the deeper design of showing to him his military equipment, that he might perceive how far preferable was the Norman sword to the English battle-axe. Alan, at that time, earl of Brittany, flourishing in youth, and of transcendent strength, had overcome his uncle Eudo, and performed many famous actions; and so far from fearing William, had even voluntarily irritated him. But he, laying claim to Brittany as his hereditary territory, because Charles had given it with his daughter, Gisla, to Rollo, shortly acted in such wise, that Alan came suppliantly to him, and surrendered himself and his possessions. And since I shall have but little to say of Brittany hereafter, I will here briefly insert an extraordinary occurrence, which happened about that time in the city of Nantes.
[A.D. 1065.] STORY OF TWO CLERKS.
There were in that city two clerks, who though not yet of legal age, had obtained the priesthood from the bishop of that place, more by entreaty than desert: the pitiable death of one of whom, at length taught the survivor, how near they had before been to the brink of hell. As to the knowledge of literature, they were so instructed, that they wanted little of perfection. From their earliest infancy, they had in such wise vied in offices of friendship, that according to the expression of the comic writer,[297] “To serve each other they would not only stir hand and foot, but even risk the loss of life itself.” Wherefore, one day, when they found their minds more than usually free from outward cares, they spoke their sentiments, in a secret place, to the following effect: “That for many years they had given their attention sometimes to literature, and sometimes to secular cares; nor had they satisfied their minds, which had been occupied rather in wrong than proper pursuits; that in the meanwhile, the bitter day was insensibly approaching, which would burst the bond of union which was indissoluble while life remained: wherefore they should provide in time, that the friendship which united them while living should accompany him who died first to the place of the dead.” They agreed, therefore, that whichever should first depart, should certainly appear to the survivor, either waking or sleeping, if possible within thirty days, to inform him, that, according to the Platonic tenet, death does not extinguish the spirit, but sends it back again, as it were from prison, to God its author. If this did not take place, then they must yield to the sect of the Epicureans, who hold, that the soul, liberated from the body, vanishes into air, or mingles with the wind. Mutually plighting their faith, they repeated this oath in their daily conversation. A short time elapsed, and behold a violent death suddenly deprived one of them of life. The other remained, and seriously revolving the promise of his friend, and constantly expecting his presence, during thirty days, found his hopes disappointed. At the expiration of this time, when, despairing of seeing him, he had occupied his leisure in other business, the deceased, with that pale countenance which dying persons assume, suddenly stood before him, when awake, and busied on some matter. The dead first addressing the living man, who was silent: “Do you know me?” said he; “I do,” replied the other; “nor am I so much disturbed at your unusual presence, as I wonder at your prolonged absence.” But when he had accounted for the tardiness of his appearance; “At length,” said he, “at length, having overcome every impediment, I am present; which presence, if you please, my friend, will be advantageous to you, but to me totally unprofitable; for I am doomed, by a sentence which has been pronounced and approved, to eternal punishment.” When the living man promised to give all his property to monasteries, and to the poor, and to spend days and nights in fasting and prayer, for the release of the defunct; he replied, “What I have said is fixed; for the judgments of God, by which I am plunged in the sulphureous whirlpool of hell, are without repentance. There I shall be tossed for my crimes, as long as the pole whirls round the stars, or ocean beats the shores. The rigour of this irreversible sentence remains for ever, devising lasting and innumerable kinds of punishment: now, therefore, let the whole world seek for availing remedies! And that you may experience some little of my numberless pains, behold,” said he, stretching out his hand, dripping with a corrupted ulcer, “one of the very smallest of them; does it appear trifling to you?” When the other replied, that it did appear so; he bent his fingers into the palm, and threw three drops of the purulent matter upon him; two of which touching his temples, and one his forehead, penetrated the skin and flesh, as if with a burning cautery, and made holes of the size of a nut. When his friend acknowledged the acuteness of the pain, by the cry he uttered, “This,” said the dead man, “will be a strong proof to you, as long as you live, of my pains; and, unless you neglect it, a singular token for your salvation. Wherefore, while you have the power; while indignation is suspended over your head; while God’s lingering mercy waits for you; change your habit, change your disposition; become a monk at Rennes, in the monastery of St. Melanius.” When the living man was unwilling to agree to these words, the other, sternly glancing at him, “If you doubt, wretched man,” said he, “turn and read these letters;” and with these words, he stretched out his hand, inscribed with black characters, in which, Satan, and all the company of infernals sent their thanks, from hell, to the whole ecclesiastical body; as well for denying themselves no single pleasure, as for sending, through neglect of their preaching, so many of their subject-souls to hell, as no former age had ever witnessed. With these words the speaker vanished; and the hearer distributing his whole property to the church and to the poor, went to the monastery; admonishing all, who heard or saw him, of his sudden conversion, and extraordinary interview, so that they exclaimed, “It is the right hand of the Almighty that has done this.”
[A.D. 1065.] NEGOTIATION OF WILLIAM I.
I feel no regret at having inserted this for the benefit of my readers: now I shall return to William. For since I have briefly, but I hope not uselessly, gone over the transactions in which he was engaged, when only earl of Normandy, for thirty years, the order of time now requires a new series of relation; that I may, as far as my inquiries have discovered, detect fallacy, and declare the truth relating to his regal government.
When king Edward had yielded to fate, England, fluctuating with doubtful favour, was uncertain to which ruler she should commit herself: to Harold, William, or Edgar: for the king had recommended him also to the nobility, as nearest to the sovereignty in point of birth; concealing his better judgment from the tenderness of his disposition. Wherefore, as I have said above, the English were distracted in their choice, although all of them openly wished well to Harold. He, indeed, once dignified with the diadem, thought nothing of the covenant between himself and William: he said, that he was absolved from his oath, because his daughter, to whom he had been betrothed, had died before she was marriageable. For this man, though possessing numberless good qualities, is reported to have been careless about abstaining from perfidy, so that he could, by any device, elude the reasonings of men on this matter. Moreover, supposing that the threats of William would never be put into execution, because he was occupied in wars with neighbouring princes, he had, with his subjects, given full indulgence to security. For indeed, had he not heard that the king of Norway was approaching, he would neither have condescended to collect troops, nor to array them. William, in the meantime, began mildly to address him by messengers; to expostulate on the broken covenant; to mingle threats with entreaties; and to warn him, that ere a year expired, he would claim his due by the sword, and that he would come to that place, where Harold supposed he had firmer footing than himself. Harold again rejoined what I have related, concerning the nuptials of his daughter, and added, that he had been precipitate on the subject of the kingdom, in having confirmed to him by oath another’s right, without the universal consent and edict of the general meeting, and of the people: again, that a rash oath ought to be broken; for if the oath, or vow, which a maiden, under her father’s roof, made concerning her person, without the knowledge of her parents, was adjudged invalid; how much more invalid must that oath be, which he had made concerning the whole kingdom, when under the king’s authority, compelled by the necessity of the time, and without the knowledge of the nation.[298] Besides it was an unjust request, to ask him to resign a government which he had assumed by the universal kindness of his fellow subjects, and which would neither be agreeable to the people, nor safe for the military.
[A.D. 1066.] PREPARATIONS FOR WAR.