The Medieval State: Essays Presented To James Campbell

THE MEDIEVAL STATE

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THE MEDIEVAL STATE Essays Presented to JAMES CAMPBELL EDITED BY

J.R. MADDICOTT AND

D.M. PALLISER

THE HAMBLEDON PRESS London and Rio Grande

Published by the Hambledon Press, 2000 102 Gloucester Avenue, London NWi 8HX (UK) PO Box 162, Rio Grande, Ohio 45674 (USA) ISBN i 85285 195 3 © The Contributors, 2000 A description of this book is available from the British Library and from the Library of Congress Printed and bound in the UK on acid-free paper by Cambridge University Press

Contents Illustrations

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Preface

ix

Abbreviations

x

Contributors

xi

James Campbell as Historian Patrick Wormald

xiii

James Campbell as Tutor David Hargreaves

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'Off To Do Good': James Campbell as Colleague H.G. Pitt Bibliography of James Campbell

xxxi xxxix

1 Peculiarly Patronus Noster: The Saint as Patron of the State in the Early Middle Ages Alan Thacker

I

2 Two Frontier States: Northumbria and Wessex, c. 650-750 J.R. Maddicott

25

3 The Construction of the Early Scottish State Alexander Grant

47

4 Observations upon a Scene in the Bayeux Tapestry, the Battle of Hastings and the Military System of the Late Anglo-Saxon State M.K. Lawson

73

5 Eadmer, his Archbishops and the English State Mark Philpott

93

6 Henry I and Counsel John Hudson

109

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7 Towns and the English State, 1066-1500 D.M. Palliser

127

8 A Twelfth-Century View of the Spanish Past Richard Fletcher

147

9 Anti-Semitism and the Medieval English State Robert C. Stacey

163

10 From Rex Wallie to Princeps Wallie: Charters and State Formation in Thirteenth-Century Wales Charles Insley

179

11 The English State and the Plantagenet Empire, 1259-1360: A Fiscal Perspective Mark Ormrod

197

12 Politics, Sanctity and the Breton State: The Case of the Blessed Charles de Blois, Duke of Brittany (d. 1364) Michael Jones

215

13 The Empire of Tamerlane: An Unsuccessful Re-Run of the Mongol Empire? David Morgan

233

14 Brittany and the French Crown: The Legacy of the English Attack upon Fougeres (1449) Craig Taylor

243

Index

259

Illustrations James Campbell (Barbel Brodf)

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1

Provinces and Royal Thanages in the Early Scottish State

59

2

The Hillock Scene from the Bayeux Tapestry

75

3

The Battle of Hastings: Freeman's Map

77

4

The Battle of Hastings: Baring's Map

77

5

Native Wales in the Thirteenth Century

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Prefacee This collection of original essays is offered to James Campbell by former pupils and others in celebration of his sixty-fifth birthday and, more generally, of his forty and more years as a tutor at Worcester College, Oxford. We wanted to make it a volume with a theme and it seemed appropriate, in the light of James's own interests and of those of many of his former pupils, to choose 'the medieval state'. Sadly, that has meant our not being able to include work by other pupils, but we have tried to bring in as many as possible by interpreting the theme widely and by not confining it to the English state. It would not have been difficult to assemble another collection by distinguished early modern and modern historians who have also sat at James's feet. We are, however, delighted to be able to include personal appreciations of James as historian and tutor by Patrick Wormald and David Hargreaves and as a colleague by Harry Pitt, whose long tutorial partnership with James helped to make undergraduate history at Worcester a doubly rewarding experience for so many of us. We are very grateful to Martin Sheppard for taking on this Festschrift and for carrying it through to completion with such enthusiasm and efficiency. All medievalists already owe a great deal to him for his promotion of their subject - and we hope that readers of this book will feel, as we do, that they now owe more. We have been greatly heartened (but needless to say not surprised) by the warm regard for James expressed by all the contributors and also by others who, for good reasons, have been unable to contribute. We join together with them all in passing on to James our good wishes, our gratitude to him as an inspiring teacher, scholar and colleague, and our affection for him as a friend. John Maddicott

David Palliser

Abbreviations Anglo-Saxons, ed. Campbell et al.

The Anglo-Saxons, edited by James Campbell, (London 1982)

APS

The Acts of the Parliaments of Scotland, ed. T. Thomson and C. Innes, 12 vols (Edinburgh, 1815-75)

BAR

British Archaeological Reports

Bede

Bede's Ecclesiastical History of the English People, ed. B. Colgrave and R.A.B. Mynors (Oxford, 1969)

BIHR

Bulletin of the Institute of Historical Research

BL

British Library

Campbell, Essays

J. Campbell, Essays in Anglo-Saxon History (London, 1986)

CCR

Calendar of Close Rolls

CPR

Calendar of Patent Rolls

EHR

English Historical Review

Orderic

The Ecclesiastical History of Orderic Vitalis, ed. and trans. M. Chibnall, 6 vols (Oxford, 1969-80)

RRAN

Regesta Regum Anglo-Normannorum, 1066-1154 ed. H.W.C. Davis et al., 4 vols (Oxford, 1913-69)

RRS

Regesta Regum Scottorum

TRHS

Transactions of the Royal Historical Society

Contributors Richard Fletcher

University of York

Alexander Grant

University of Lancaster

David Hargreaves

Westminster School

John Hudson

University of St Andrews

Charles Insley

Nene College and Victoria County History, Northampton

Michael Jones

University of Nottingham

M.K. Lawson

St Paul's School

J.R. Maddicott

Exeter College, Oxford

David Morgan

University of Wisconsin-Madison

Mark Ormrod

University of York

D.M. Palliser

University of Leeds

Mark Philpott

Keble College, Oxford

H.G. Pitt

Worcester College, Oxford

Robert C. Stacey

University of Washington

Craig Taylor

University of York

Alan Thacker

Victoria County History, London

Patrick Wormald

Christ Church, Oxford

James Campbell (Barbel Brodt)

James Campbell as Historian PATRICK WORMALD

In the autumn of 1954, the two examiners for Oxford's prestigious and lucrative Gibbs Scholarship in History were deadlocked. It was then awarded by examination of undergraduates (their colleges' elite) beginning their final year. The difficulty was that the modernist examiner favoured the front-running medievalist, while her medievalist colleague was sure that a modernist had the edge. Their Solomonic judgement was that the prize be not split but given in full to each. One can see their problem. The budding modernist was called Thomas, his medievalist rival was named Campbell. Sir Keith Thomas has gone on to garner most of the honours known to the profession of history. James Campbell's fame may be less wide, but in his own sphere it is no less deep. He is generally acknowledged the most consistently creative influence on the writing of Anglo-Saxon history today. It is humbling to contemplate the list of James Campbell's papers, produced over more than three decades at the rate of one every fourteen and a half months. It is not that there are so many, nor even that without exception they make major advances in the understanding of the medieval past. Others in our time have written more. In a (very) few cases it has been of comparable quality. What is unparalleled is that James Campbell has said so much of such value about so wide a range of crucial topics. Only the more ethereal arenas of the subject, devotional poetry and preaching, have as yet escaped his roving and piercing intellect (not so the austerities of philology: see his review of place-names in 'Shot-', 'Debt of the Early English Church to Ireland', n. 19, or that essay's concluding remark on the unique loan from Old Irish to Anglo-Saxon vocabulary). To re-read his oeuvre is to be sharply reminded of how much one's thinking owes to what he has thought. Such command of so wide a field is the mark not just of a deeply * References in this paper are confined to James Campbell's own works, since this is no place to discuss them in the detail that warrants conventional footnotes; to save space, I cite his publications Harvard-style (works reprinted in Essays quoted therefrom), the relevant bibliographical niceties being found in the list of his works, below, pp. xxxix-xlii. I am grateful for comment on what I have written by the editors, by Henry Mayr-Harting and by Jenny Wormald.

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learned scholar but of a historian stamped by greatness. My first encounter with James Campbell was in 1966, when I was among three hundred attending his lectures on 'Bede, Ecclesiastical History,, Book IIP - then a set-book (in Latin, naturally) for all sitting History 'Prelims' at the end of their first term. This was not quite the first time he delivered this electrifying series, a Damascus Road for many who have gone on to expound the early history of the British Isles and Europe. Ours was, however, the first year when it was possible to follow up his lectures by reading the superb essay on Bede that he contributed to Dorey's Latin Historians collection. It must be hard for anyone reading this essay for the first time thirty years later to realize just what a departure it was. It seems amazing now that Bede's stripped-down Wilfrid should almost invariably until then have been given priority over the full-colour portrait by Eddius Stephanus; that two ventures from the strait and narrow in Peter Hunter Blair's Introduction to Anglo-Saxon England (not a work, for all its own virtues, that ever strayed far from it) should have been rapped over the knuckles by Lady Stenton on the grounds that neither was upheld by Bede. The importance of James Campbell's essay, and of its 'Great Histories' sequel, lay not just in their being the first assessments of Bede's History in the light of the genre to which it belonged, the corpus of his exegetical work, and his own proclaimed intentions in writing it. More important still was that he thereby opened up the study of early English Christianity to perspectives other than Bede's. What is in many ways the key sentence concerns the contrasting historiographical fortunes of seventh-century England and Gaul (Essays, p. 25): 'the one . . . being regarded as moving and edifying, the other as repellent and vicious'; and the contrast being attributable 'not so much to one society's being nobler, or nicer, than the other, as to Bede's aims and tastes being different from those of Prankish historians'. James Campbell was himself (as ever) too kind to say so, but such was exactly the approach to the Age of Bede only a generation before by R.W. Chambers, a very great Anglo-Saxonist indeed. Fittingly, therefore, James Campbell himself followed his Bedan essays with two of truly seminal importance on early English Christianity (each typically published in a journal that is not exactly among the staple reading of professional historians or their pupils). It is hardly too much to say that 'The First Century' rewrote the history of the conversion of England. Bede's background and training led him to stress the bishoprics established by missions from Rome/Canterbury or lona/Lindisfarne. Beside these, James Campbell put an unnumbered, in fact literally uncountable, series of ventures from elsewhere in the seventh-century Irish culture-province, above all the Hiberno-Frankish nexus created by Columbanus; and their normative foundation was not

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an episcopal see but a monastery adaptable to the mores of a Germanic aristocracy. The late Michael Wallace-Hadrill insisted that I remove the term 'epoch-making' from a reference to this essay in my own first publication. He, admittedly, was one of few to whom it will not have been a revelation. Epoch-making it none the less was, because whatever Wallace-Hadrill already knew, he had not himself vouchsafed it. Among the paper's other outstanding features, it anticipated the 'Minster hypothesis' on the organization of the early English Church (pp. 51-3) two decades before this began to gain ground generally; it described the impact of Columbanus (pp. 60-1) in terms foreshadowing Peter Brown's canonical profile of the Holy Man a year later; and it sounded a note which has rung on through ostensibly quite unrelated studies: the existence of what can be called 'Channel History' (cf. 'Age of Arthur1, p. 123), by which is meant a common sphere of experience, reaching well inland from either coast, any part of whose history may, if read with sensitivity, illuminate the rest. Yet not even this was its main methodological breakthrough. What this paper shared with the sibling two years its junior was escape from the tramlines of a canon of sources hitherto deemed 'reliable'. In his 'Observations', James Campbell made the first strong statement of what is nowadays almost an orthodoxy: that Bede seriously, and it may be deliberately, understated the importance for the making of English Christianity of the fact that the Anglo-Saxons conquered territory that was already Christian. 'Channel History' and mysterious inscribers of ogam came in here too (pp. 70-1, the latter fleshed out in 'Debt of the Early English Church to Ireland', pp. 333-4). But the critical factor in the proposition (p. 73) that 'the arrival of Augustine begins not the first, but a later, stage in the conversion of England' lies in the paper's last words: 'we should always be ready to be surprised'. It is this above all that links James Campbell's papers on Bede and the Conversion with the views for which he has since become most famous (in certain quarters notorious), on the genesis of the English state. Meanwhile, there was unfinished Bedan business. It took the form of papers with semantic starting-points: the words Bede used for powerful people and important places. James Campbell was able to show that Bede carefully chose his vocabulary for each; his imprecisions arose from the ambiguities of complex situations. Again, however, it is the importance of uncertainty that is the dominant key. A distinguished contemporary is taken to task (p. 90) - like Wallace-Hadrill thirteen years later ('Sutton Hoo', p. 85) - for failing to discriminate between silent and absent evidence. The taciturnity of witnesses who might be expected to tell of something is a serious objection to believing it; whereas the absence of witnesses in that day and age is itself to be expected. From much the same time, there was a sparkling sketch of the

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'Church in Anglo-Saxon Towns' (among its characteristics a title that gave few clues to its range or substance); and later a return to the early English church in papers on the social context of St Cuthbert's career and on the Irish contribution to early English Christianity. These to say the least well-trodden fields each yielded strikingly full harvests. 'Cuthbert' finishes with his tartest remarks yet about Bede's defects: '[he] can come extremely close to humbug'. Yet what informs this paper and that on 'Towns' is a humane empathy with people seeking to comprehend their faith in their own cultural terms. This theme crops up later still in his paper on 'Maldon', an evocative picture of the tastes and manners of England's first ruling class on the eve of its first crisis; what catches the eye here is the lack of any clear line between clerical and secular establishments (or, one might add, between those of southern England and northern France). James Campbell's church is one whose appeal to less than saintly laymen can be understood, but not at the price paid by some ecclesiastical historians of later eras, of entirely replacing spiritual with material motivation. He shows how to take 'piety' out of church history without removing God. By then, James Campbell had signalled what has come to be seen as his most distinctive thesis in publications of 1975. It is important to appreciate, though at first sight far from obvious, how these works belong together and reinforce each other. Norwich is on the one hand an act of pietas towards his beloved East Anglia, and so a reminder of how important in his intellectual make-up it is that he grew up in a part of England where contemporary evidence for the Anglo-Saxon period is as poor as it becomes rich and diverse when the record-making (or record-keeping) habit ingrained itself in later centuries. (No less notable a mark of East Anglian loyalties is his devotion to the herring, 'the potato of the Middle Ages' ('Was it Infancy in England?', p. 10); and the topic of his regrettably, if not altogether untypically, unpublished Creighton Lecture.) Norwich was also, however, a first occasion to stress a point often made since: 'that the most important economic developments before the Industrial Revolution took place in the later Anglo-Saxon period' (p. i). From a relatively modern economy to a relatively modern state is not a long step, nor one James Campbell has hesitated to take. Advanced economies make for complex societies, and so for the fiscal and human resources required by an intricate political organism. That is perhaps the underlying point of his remarkable later paper on 'The Sale of Land'. It contains the clearest account we have of the relationship between service and office, reward and endowment (p. 31), and it opens up into a subtle apercu of a social economy where treasure and land were not regarded as they would be in later ages but where the balance of the two was no less calculated. The extended review of John Morris's wonderfully wild Age of Arthur,

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also published in 1975, moved another regiment of arguments into the line. It was to be expected of James Campbell that his was both the warmest and the best judgment of this much-derided work. He is always a generous reviewer even of those who may not deserve it, and for reasons that matter in understanding his scholarship. An inborn sympathy for the underdog is compounded by restless impatience with established wisdom, and overlaid by conviction that where so much is unknown, speculative revisionism is not merely justified but devoutly to be wished. 'So difficult, diverse and inadequate are the sources that to seek to write the history of the British Isles from the fourth century to the seventh must be to abandon some of the usual principles of historiography.' Thus the paper's opening words; its concluding paragraph begins by praising Morris for giving 'encouragement to speculate, that is to say think again'. That point is made ever and anon in subsequent papers. We will hear (Essays, p. 188) of the difficillima ars nesciendi; more than once of 'jesting Pilate'; of an early medieval historian's proper motto, dubito ergo sum ('Was it Infancy In England?', p. 17). The object in stressing it here and in his slightly later etching of 'Early Anglo-Saxon Society According to Written Sources' ('the safest course is to delineate not knowledge but ignorance', p. 133) was that it so enlarges the possible scope of archaic government systems. James Campbell's main criticism of Morris was that he ignored the increasingly strong possibilities of organizational linkage between prehistoric, proto-historic and early historic (in British terms, Celtic, Roman and Anglo-Saxon) periods. 'It is easy to forget that institutions which first come into sight in the Dark Ages or later must often have had centuries or millennia of history behind them' ('Age of Arthur', p. 127); 'there is much that is plausible, however surprising, in the attempt to link what is described in Domesday Book and later sources with what existed at a very early date' ('Early Anglo-Saxon Society', p. 136). A marvellously resonant phrase used in an Anglo-American lecture, but so far as I know not published, invoked 'the grammar of Indo-European lordship'. We thus come to his third 1975 publication, the one with which his name is always going to be most closely linked, so the one suitably made the focus for the rest of this appreciation. The obvious thing about 'Observations on English Government' (other than its habitually under-hyped title) is of course that it makes claims for what the preConquest state could do that boggled the conventional historical mind I recall the fluttering it occasioned in intellectually conservative dovecots north of the border. 'Prudent historians, when they consider the ordered power of the late Anglo-Saxon state, are apt to hedge their bets'; but 'the evidence is such as to render the implausible irresistible' (pp. 155-6). So indeed it is, resting as it does not on what documents say, but on what material objects - coins - do (cf. 'Significance of the

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Anglo-Norman State', p. 187). Whatever happens to Anglo-Saxon studies in decades to come, it can be betted that they will never revert to the position, still normative when I was a student, that the 1066 denouement was both inevitable and indeed desirable. Yet that is not ultimately the most important of this paper's conclusions, nor the central thrust of the argument here and in those that follow it up. In coming to terms with what James Campbell has been saying since 1975, four points need to be grasped firmly. First of all, his is no neo-Whig anthem. It would be truer to say that James Campbell is more pessimistically alive to the possibilities of regress than serenely sure of the certainty of progress. Already here (pp. 167-9), further in the final lines of 'Some Agents', and with special notice of Stephen's reign in 'Was it Infancy in England?', we hear how near the English polity came to destruction at the hands of conquerors who did not understand it; just as in another impressive 'off-line' paper on 'Twelfth-Century Views of the Anglo-Saxon Past', we read that the hard fact patiently dug up by the first generation of post-Conquest historians was thrown away in pursuit of glistening fictions, with results which, as 'the deadly lie of Jewish ritual murder [first] conies to the surface' in 1140 Norwich (pp. 225-6), were truly hideous. In the second place, James Campbell's view of the capacities of Old English government dovetails with, is in fact founded upon, his general approach to early governmental systems. He insists that thin evidence cuts both ways, obscuring knowledge of what was as much as it engenders faith in what was not. 'Historians, quiet men always liable to confuse the less interesting with the more plausible' (Anglo-Saxons, p. 54) speak of 'vague overlordship' meaning that they are themselves vague about it ('Debt of the Early English Church', p. 335; 'United Kingdom', p. 46). 'Our knowledge of so much hangs by so narrow a thread that it is as certain as certain can be that there was a great deal about Anglo-Saxon England about which we do not know, and never will know, anything' (Anglo-Saxons, p. 246); making it a counsel not just of despair but of fools to drown out honest speculation with mantras about 'lack of evidence'. In 'morbid fear of anachronism', scholars gravitate to 'belief that somehow or other everything changes in the sixteenth century' (Stubbs, pp. 10, 13; cf. 'St. Cuthbert', p. 8, 'Late Anglo-Saxon State', p. 62). All this renders us at least as likely to understate as to exaggerate governmental power at any date before the twelfth century. When Domesday Book itself could so easily have been lost, who is to wax dogmatic about the administrative methods of Offa or indeed Cunobelinus (cf. 'Late Saxon State', p. 45)? Part of the secret of the plausibility of James Campbell's case on the history of English government is that he gives it Braudelian longue duree. James Campbell thus reacts to gaps in the evidence as Alexander

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reacted to blocked passes: not retreating in wise resignation but devising strategies for circumvention and advance as audacious as they are often crowned with success. Some of his other qualities come into play here. One, already noted in my comments on Norwich., is how much later English history he knows. He nearly was a later medievalist, his first (and as yet in fact his longest) paper being one of lasting value on Scotland's part in the fourteenth-century phase of the Hundred Years War. 'Observations on Government' and 'Church in Later AngloSaxon Towns' make connections with nineteenth-century developments. The importance of this is that he is entirely aufait with what he himself likes to call the fossil evidence for English administrative prehistory. Many aspects of English government, especially at local level, emerge in the thirteenth century or later but make sense only if a great deal older (cf. in particular 'Some Agents'). Further intellectual assets are the topographical sense attested in his Who's Who list of interests; and above all his archaeological acumen. If this surfaces for any length of time only in his dazzling assault on the nostrums of Sutton Hoo scholarship (compare his paragraph on palaeographers in 'Debt of the Early English Church', pp. 340-1), it was the condition of what seems sure to lend The Anglo-Saxons immortality long after our text is forgotten: it is quite simply the best-illustrated book ever published on the Anglo-Saxons or any early medieval people west of Byzantium. James Campbell's devices to outflank ignorance introduce a third critical feature of 'Observations on Government', its invocation of Carolingian influence. Again, it is possible to miss the point here several times over. It is not merely that he makes so good a case for thinking that English governments were as aware of Prankish techniques before 1066 as scholars have been quite ready to suppose that they were afterwards (p. 166); though the case is so good that, as with 'Bede', one finds oneself wondering how anyone ever thought otherwise. Equally important, here and in the 'Asser' and ^Ethelred papers, is how far analogy with the rest of Europe makes it fair to postulate comparable English developments when contact remains unprovable. His deep reading in arcana of French and German history facilitates a return to 'Channel History', with all the implications for English government and secular culture that it had for the birth of English Christianity. 'It seems likely that England resembled and was linked with its neighbours to a larger extent and in more important ways than can categorically be proved' ('England, France, Flanders', p. 207) is a salient leitmotif in his entire opera. This principle too cuts both ways. James Campbell is no proponent of an English Sonderweg. The point of his essay on 'The Significance of the Anglo-Norman State' in the context where it was given is that students of other early medieval regimes can learn to take their capacities more seriously from what is

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known for England alone. He is increasingly inclined to say the same about population levels ('Was it Infancy . . .?', pp. 13-17, 'Late AngloSaxon State', pp. 64-5). By this token, the urge to bridle at the proposition that 'it is almost as if there are two Englands and one of them is called Scotland' ('United Kingdom', p. 45) should be resisted. What he means is that both England and Scotland throve on the same sort of immemorial - and, as few stress more than he, quite possibly Celtic diet. Which in turn links up with a fourth point, one whose relevance to the springs of the temptation to repudiate his thesis may make the most important of all. Restating it over the subsequent twenty years, most recently in as yet unpublished Ford Lectures, he is more and more prone to relate Anglo-Saxon government power to the depth and breadth of participation in its actions. 'England was, and remained, a country in which the central authority dealt with, and in large measure derived its authority from, an extensive political nation' ('Late AngloSaxon State', p. 52). This of course conjures up an ever hoarier shade than English exceptionalism, the 'ancient (democratic) constitution'. James Campbell does not put it quite as Stubbs and Freeman did though he would wish to be given better reasons than most historians provide why he should not. What he thinks, basing this on knowledge of later arrangements equalled by few since Stubbs himself, is that English government could never have worked as it did but for input from people whose status in society was invisible above ground level. He is, like Maitland, unabashed about believing that strong government is on the whole to the advantage of ordinary people, which is why he endorses it as Maitland did. Such views have been unpalatable on the Left for a century and a half, but for no reason one can see beyond Marxian dismissal of national identity as one more popular opiate. Is it not itself a manifestation of 'the insufferable condescension of posterity' to maintain that the Common Man had no interest in how he or she was governed until (say) education awoke it? James Campbell is, to be sure, a stout patriot. A voice that will be familiar to all who know him lingers over what 'long preserved the ecclesia anglicana from Roman rationalizers' ('Church in Anglo-Saxon Towns', p. 153). But one need not share his pride in being English to agree either that the English state is, relatively speaking, very old, or that its antiquity matters a lot to more than the 'mere English'. In the last decade, James Campbell has turned, as most top-notch historians eventually do, to the historiography of his subject. There is much here that his earlier work leads one to expect: emphasis on what has not been gainsaid in Stubbs's Constitutional History, not least the abiding legitimacy of that discipline; the single criticism of Stenton (as opposed to disciples too loyal for his own good), that he did not always

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shake off 'a primitivist view of the Anglo-Saxon past' ('Stenton', p. 51); and the revelation of what was already perceived, mainly about archaic government systems, by a scholar who took a third in Classics at Worcester College, Oxford in 1837 and went on to become a Leicestershire country gentleman, E.W. Robertson. One theme in these papers is worth drawing out for its bearing on what he may see as his own predicament. Stubbs, Stenton and Robertson, he points out, achieved what they did because all they had to read were sources. Their counterparts today 'dig their own graves by producing more literature than anyone can master' ('Stenton', p. 57; I recall a more sanguinary metaphor in the original lecture). What ensues is an awful vision of modern scholars chipping away at a bibliographical mountain, 'taking a few days to read what may have taken many years to write'. Here are the tones of James Campbell pessimist. No less characteristic is an intellectual virtuosity that relates the dilemmas of contemporary learning not to banalities about RAE but to a paradox inherent in the very florescence of the twentieth-century historical profession. That is why, to return to what I have tried to make a running theme in these remarks, James Campbell's importance lies not in the vast amount he knows, nor even in the unexampled richness of what he writes, but in how he has taught historians of early times to think. He would banish doubt not by recoiling from but by embracing it. In admitting the inevitability of ignorance, we surmount the barrier it interposes between us and antiquity. For so sincerely unassuming a character, James Campbell can be an extraordinarily funny writer and lecturer, exploiting to the full the studied understatement that is the English humorist's forte: ' Tributum . . . in Theodore's Penitential... is not to be such as to burden the poor, which inclines one to think that it was burdening the poor' ('First Century', p. 50); 'there was something of the Elizabeth Taylor about dark age potentates', and 'no wonder they drank so much' ('St Cuthbert', pp. 9-10); Stenton's skills as correspondent emerge in 'a letter in which he explained why the work was not coming along quite so quickly as may have been hoped. Some of us are no strangers to composing such letters . . .' ('Stenton', p. 50). He is at his very wittiest on the trusty formulae of 'Dark Age Prose', its prized quality the ability to nibble a maximum of cheese while keeping one's whiskers well clear of counter-indicators coiled to snap down ('Sutton Hoo', pp. 8off). Yet he is not without his own streetwise rhetoric. 'It is a question whether . . .' serves him as well as 'We would not go far wrong . . .' served Stenton. It has been truly said that 'a paragraph of James Campbell [is] as instantly recognizable as [one] of Maitland or Knowles or Southern'; and, one might add, no less refreshing a draught amidst modern scholarship's predominant aridities. In any event, one effect of his approach is to disarm dissent. James

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Campbell would anticipate little else. I may doubt the dependence of intensive rule upon extensive literacy at any date before the twelfth century, or query the degree of real power exerted by those claiming hegemony over seventh-century Britain. But I would, wouldn't I? He knows that I am no better placed to deny than is he to assert such things; which is how he would wish, how he has taught me to wish, that it should be. Still, if there ought to be some critical note in even the most grateful of encomia, it could surely in this case be that there is not yet more to celebrate.Granted his sense of the frustrations of modern erudition, a Festschrift for James Campbell may properly express the hope that he devote his retirement to writing the Great Book on early English history that no one has written since 1943, and that no one living is better equipped to write.

James Campbell as Tutor DAVID HARGREAVES

My first sight of James Campbell was - I realize with the dismay one might expect of someone coming unwillingly to terms with middle age nearly twenty-five years ago, at entrance interviews. I had taken papers in History (four in those days - English, European, General and a translation paper), but hoped to be admitted to study Law. We were in the drawing room of Harry Pitt's spectacular set on Staircase Eight at Worcester, with its famous roof garden. Today, Flint (the first of Harry's canine club) lies buried in that garden. He was dimly alive then, lying obediently at his master's feet, which did not quite reach the ground. (The chair had a very long seat, and Harry is rather a short man.) I was predictably apprehensive, but also curious. Until that day, I had literally never met a university teacher of any kind, and only once visited Oxford, though my home was less than fifty miles away - and that was on a hurried school trip to see Much Ado About Nothing. Indeed, I probably owed my shortlisting to one of Worcester's several attempts to recruit students educated in the state sector. My voice and manners must quickly have given me away as suburban middle class, but Harry and James concealed their disappointment and settled down to question me. James himself, however, did anything but disappoint. Occupying the sofa, with arms and legs which seemed to rotate independently of the rest of him, he conformed at a glance to my hazy notions of what it meant to be professorial. Blatantly myopic (not an impression I ever had cause to revise), he was dressed in a way which suggested that he was not exactly a slave to fashion. Given the brutalist designs of the mid-1970s, this may have been testimony to his good taste rather than unknowingness, but I doubt it. Most fascinating of all, and enduringly attractive, were his rhythms and idioms of speech, famous for their exactitude - occasionally pedantic, but never pompous. On this occasion, he took the leading role at interview, taking me to task for an essay on the decline of the Carolingian Empire. 'Well', he said, 'you certainly make a jolly plausible case for its collapse.' With a disarmingly regretful note in his voice (a device I later interpreted as a sure sign he was moving in for the kill), he went on 'I

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just can't help feeling it's so jolly plausible, I'm just left wondering how it ever staggered to its feet in the first place'. To my intense delight, I was duly offered a place at Worcester to read Law the following autumn. But James had not quite gone out of my life. He was College Dean at the time, and while I wandered selfconsciously round the Lodge that first day, I had been delighted to find notices from him pertaining to keys, parties, library conventions et al., some of them a dozen years old. This kind of antiquity seemed eminently suitable for an ancient university. He also made an appearance, not I suspect extraordinarily willingly, at the Freshmen's dinner. The Provost was there, flushed and indiscriminately cheerful as always, and told us sensibly not to be alarmed if we found ourselves rather homesick at first. The College doctor, another ancien regime figure, gave some rather crude and serviceable advice to this all-male gathering, and then James stood up. To this day, I have no idea what he did say - sage decanal advice, no doubt, but it could as easily have been biblical exegesis, because he projected his voice so badly and mumbled into the bargain that not one word did I pick up: an achievement of sorts given that I sat near the front of Hall and had the savagely acute hearing of a seventeen-year-old. I sensed his nervousness, and felt sorry for him, while a few others giggled rudely. (Public school hearties were never thin on the ground at Worcester.) I quickly realized I hated Law - nobody's fault but my own - but it did indirectly bring me nearer to James. One November night, moodily blowing smoke rings in the Law Library on Staircase Five, I unwittingly set off the newly installed fire alarms, and was responsible for causing the exodus of those in Hall (Wednesday was Guest Night at Worcester), who tumbled out into the cloister, looking peevish and cold. To my very green eyes, they all looked a mighty patrician lot. Smoke detectors were new technology then, and the instinct was to assume that a towering inferno was raging when they went off, rather than put it down to some callow youth pratting around with a cigarette. James, begowned and en smoking., shot across the terrace building like Torquemada in pursuit of a particularly juicy heretic. Feeling rather like Sydney Carton at the end of A Tale of Two Cities, but brought up in a rather old-fashioned way, I determined to tell him the truth. He was, of course, quite charming ('Don't worry yourself, my dear chap, accidents will happen') and probably relieved that everyone could troop back into Hall without the savoury spoiling. I dropped out of Oxford before the end of that term, initially uncertain about whether to return and then resolved not to. The next year I became a reporter on a regional newspaper. I loved it all, and rediscovered an awful lot of lost direction. By the summer of that year, I knew I wanted to go back to University (I was not unduly bothered where) and

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- for sure - to study History. I made very discreet soundings to Harry Pitt and James Campbell, and was invited to take tea with them. Our second meeting, the forerunner to so much, took place on 2 October 1979- James and Harry were back on Staircase Eight, in much the same position as three years earlier. Tea and cake were served. James asked me some gentle questions about work on the newspaper, and then I was sent out for a walk. I had lost the habits of student leisure: trudging across the college lawns on that autumn afternoon, rediscovering the unvarying gracefulness of it all, struck me hard. When I returned about the prescribed quarter of an hour, I was invited to return in a week's time - this time permanently. James didn't say a great deal, and I wondered briefly if he had been reluctant. Many years later, he assured me this wasn't the case. I think now he saw that I was desperately moved by being given this second chance, and needed to be by myself. Thus, by the time I finally arrived as an History undergraduate, my feelings towards both my tutors were already bound up by an intense Jjistory of their own, and a strong sense of obligation. The rest of this tale is, in many respects, a more conventional one that of the undergraduate who developed a strong affection, as well as a healthy awe, for both of his tutors. James was such a redoubtable scholar, a polymath but fans et origo a medievalist, and an uncompromising tutor. I was relatively diligent, not especially gifted, with my heart and head at their happiest any time after 1688 - and in my studyhabits and attitudes an embryonic schoolteacher rather than a don. Yet he stuck by me manfully, and I relished our time together. This began with weekly seminars on Bede's Historia Ecclesiastica. Many of us had our doubts about middle Latin, but James treated this (quite correctly) as our business and not his. My first introduction to his highly idiosyncratic marking was three words scrawled over my first Latin unseen for him. 'Enterprising,' he wrote, 'but wrong.' Gobbets, as textual commentaries were known in the Oxford History school, were challenging. I was probably unduly impressed by the apparent precocity of some of my colleagues, but James's style neither involved victimization nor petting of anyone present. His effusions or expostulations were reserved for our weekly gobbets, which he marked with faultless thoroughness and speed. 'Your prose,' he complained, early on in the term, 'is somewhat addled.' A week later, it was clearly no better. 'I suggest,' he wrote, 'you read Ernest Gowers' Plain Words (at least twice).' It was to be a line I plagiarized heavily in the years ahead, for my own entertainment and the instruction of my more prolix pupils.

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Despite my infelicitous prose, I passed Prelims securely, along with everyone else. At Provost's Collections at the end of term, I was introduced to yet another of Oxford's many oddities - a verbal report in the third person. Asa Briggs sat at the head of his table, smiling and nodding at me in a way that I blithely interpreted as mark of personal favour, rather than a part of his armoury of avuncular blandness. Harry Pitt, in his wonderful staccato, dealt with me briskly and gently. There followed an extended pregnant pause. Asa muttered questioningly in James's direction, but he was staring myopically at sheaves of paper and said nothing at all. 'James!', barked Harry. He looked up, flustered. 'Oh, my apologies, Provost,' he said, Tm afraid I was dreaming. All too typical of me.' Harry and Asa tried not to smile, and me also. After some preliminary courtesies, he warned: 'He has yet to learn the difference between speculation and fact. And it's going to be someone's duty next term - indeed, I fear it will be mine - to make his life a total misery until he does so.' James did not live up to his words. I studied medieval English History with him very happily for the next two terms, and late medieval in my second year. He also took me for Political Theory. The others that year were all tutored by Oliver Franks, the celebrated Oxford philosopher and former Provost of Worcester. We were (nearly) all ghastly little tufthunters, and there was speculation as to whether or not my singular position with James was a mark of favour or opprobrium. To this day I do not know, and suspect it was more an administrative quirk than the consequence of any ingenious policy. Perhaps more to the point, James and I were very used to each other in tutorials and - it feels like an effrontery to suggest it even now - as comfortable with each other as a fastidious and brilliant medievalist was likely to be with a rather anxious and unspecial undergraduate. As I recall, we generally had tutorials on a Thursday. I tended to write the essays at a single (extended) sitting in the Codrington at All Souls the previous afternoon. I loved the extraordinary beauty of its long reading room, and the watery light which came through the leaded panes of the west window. Scholarship seemed more attainable there than in the crowded Camera, so much more satisfactory from the outside than within. James's rooms, for so many years on the first floor of Staircase Five, were another delight. There was a huge mahogany bookcase the entire width of the room, and an extended table on which endless papers, books and monographs lay scattered. The furniture was comfortable,

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and the whole impression that of somewhere whose owner cared for comfort, but not much for effect. Whatever reluctance he may have felt at either the first or the sixth tutorial of the day, he always greeted me warmly enough, staring as usual anywhere but directly at me, possibly fiddling with pipe or cigarette (he alternated between the two constantly). The famous black cat might also be putting in an appearance. 'Well then,' he would say, sucking in his breath adenoidally, 'What have you got for me today?' I would paraphrase whatever title it was he had set me the previous week. 'Good, good.' He would nod rapidly with his eyes tightly shut. 'Go on then, my dear fellow. Edify me . . .' A tall order. Occasional hints of restiveness might penetrate if it became clear that I was enjoying my own declamation too much. Clicking of teeth or even spluttering might be provoked by a split infinitive, clumsy syntax or the pretentious pronunciation of a foreign name, but otherwise he was a restrained and polite audience. The only eruption occurred during an essay on the legacy of King Stephen. 'If you ever write again about a monarch', he spluttered, 'medieval or other, having a track record - good, bad or otherwise - I'll break your bloody neck.' I relished the resumes above everything. He could hear my concluding paragraph from about three miles away as my voice and idiom moved into best Churchillian mode, but would hear me out patiently. For a few seconds, there would be silence. 'Now then', he might begin, eyes still closed in concentration, 'let me understand. What you're suggesting is . . .' About twenty seconds of beautifully articulated and lucid exegesis would follow, and then his eyes would open and he would ask me with apparent anxiety: 'Now is that about right?' I always thought so. It all sounded so frightfully plausible when he said it. He then would settle back in his chair and close his eyes again. 'Well, that's not a bad essay . . . indeed, I think it's probably rather a good one. It's not, however, a very good one - and I'll tell you why.' Sometimes I forgot why, because I was so entranced by the preliminaries, but his scholarship was enthralling. Though I came to believe he was an especially gifted tutor for those whose appetite for medieval history was stronger than mine, I minded and knew enough to gain a great deal from him - above all, a taste for exactitude. Though a shy man, he was sociable and took trouble with people. Harry and James gave drinks parties for their freshmen after their first

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few weeks, and annual dinners in the SCR. There again, he showed his fundamental even-handedness - he would ignore (rather than put down) the occasional brashness by some slightly bumptious undergraduate, and unobtrusively spend time with the diffident. It worked to my advantage, certainly. One term, my tutorials were fixed with him at 6 p.m. Once my essay had been read and the essential forensic work was done - he would pour me a sherry, and very possibly another. At about seven o'clock came the ritual question. 'Are you dining in Hall?' I was. 'Well, then . . . what about a quick half in the buttery?' We had only a quarter of an hour, but tended to drink fast, and to get in at least a couple of halves. For an entire term, I walked into Hall in only a moderately straight line after tutorials with James. Within the confines of impeccable taste and professionalism, James and Harry relaxed perceptibly as their undergraduates moved nearer Schools. For the General Paper, we met as a group - eight undergraduates and two tutors. Bottles of weak beer helped us to unwind, and to enjoy the stylized arguments they had perfected over the years. Stuart Proffitt wrote an erudite essay on Paderewski to which Harry Pitt, a passionate music lover and a great patron of Stuart himself, refused to give much credence. 'I don't like it. Pompous and dull', he insisted. There was an immediate exclamation of disgust to his left. 'I have no idea, Harry', James interrupted, 'what on earth you're talking about. It was quite brilliant.' We were spellbound, of course, treating this intervention as a furor academicus, rather than a bit of street theatre, obliquely provoking us into polemics. On the eve of Schools, terrified by all that I had forgotten about medieval English History, I begged ten minutes with James and rattled off my list of asinine questions. Scornful of examination spoon-feeding, he treated me as a serious candidate and gave tactful, helpful replies. Gradually, I relaxed and my questions took on a less manic quality. After a while, James said to me quietly: 'I shouldn't worry about your knowledge. What you're frightened of is thought. And, indeed, who wouldn't be? He was referring, of course, to the cold terror of that first five or ten seconds of an examination, when a candidate, having read the question, faces the terrible moment of trying to measure up to the implicit challenges which it contained. To my ears, his words enshrined some of the moral essence of scholarship: that it is the fruit of much labour, but also the productivity of creativity and courage. Though my degree was

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unremarkable, I am enduringly grateful to James for that insight. In the intervening years, I have tried to introduce it to successive generations of bright schoolchildren. Inevitably, we see each other only rarely these days - but there is a measure of professional as well as personal contact, and I value both immensely. He came to lecture to my Sixth Formers, and terrified me by bringing a large collection of precious slides, the dimensions of which were unknown to any slide projector manufactured (I suspect) since the Coronation. We improvised, but it would not have mattered much even if we had not. He is, of course, a supreme lecturer - better even than those marvellous slides of Sutton Hoo. With disgraceful indiscretion, I had imitated him well in advance of his arrival, and my pupils' fascination was both intellectual and spectatorial as they watched him, eyes on ceiling, walking back and forth on an invisible pathway, expounding on the Roman Army of Occupation. 'What a nonsense', he told them, 'to suppose that this was an army composed very much of Romans. We know perfectly well of one worthy centurion from Armenia who ended his days in the unlikely environs of - South Shields' I have, once or twice, enjoyed dinner with him alone. All my youthful impressions of his capacious and versatile intelligence have been underlined, but so too is the sense I have gleaned of his detached benevolence. He has a strong sense of the hilarious and the bizarre, and his conversation reverberates with delight at the fantastic behaviour in which public figures (usually self-important) have been known to indulge. But, though he can be sharply critical, I have never known him to pursue any kind of grudge. I have never heard him gossip, and I trust implicitly his care. He and Harry Pitt constituted an extraordinary duumvirate, which presided over historians at Worcester for some thirty-five years. While his legacy to the world at large will certainly - quite fairly - be that of a formidable scholar, I shall always revere James, first and foremost, as half of a unique partnership - generous and dedicated and greatly cherished.

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'Off To Do Good': James Campbell as Colleague H.G. PITT When in 1957 Worcester College sought a medievalist to succeed Vere Somerset, who had retired after thirty-six years as a Fellow and tutor, it was no surprise that the greater number of the most attractive candidates had been pupils of K.B. McFarlane. For each one he had written a beautiful and carefully crafted reference: what he did not do was to rank them in any order. We saw a number of candidates - all young (as was the way in those days) - and one of whom had not yet taken Schools. The committee then determined to recommend James to the Governing Body. I thought it prudent to call on McFarlane, whom I only knew of and believed to be formidable. He opened by saying 'Have I done something wrong?' I reassured him (what could he have been thinking of?) and told him that we were of a mind to appoint James to our fellowship. He tilted his massive expressionless head to one side slightly and said 'You are doing right'. That was it. James arrived from Merton (where he had briefly been a Junior Research Fellow) and confirmed his tutor's judgement from the very beginning. So started a fellowship still running after forty-three years to the incalculable benefit of hundreds of undergraduates and graduates. For the previous eight years Worcester had been in the doldrums so far as results in Schools were concerned - the year before James arrived we had fielded twentyone Finalists in Schools with only one tutor to shepherd them. By the end of the first generation of James's pupils, in 1960, things changed. The First achieved by one of them that year was the spark which lit a respectable trail as time went on. James was just twenty-two when he arrived, and shy. He never would (and still will not) agree with something which he believed to be wrong, but could not then always defend his position. Instead he had (sometimes still has) a baffling device of silently staring at his interlocutor so that the rim of his spectacles exactly obscured his eyes from being observed. But very soon he grew into a formidable conversationalist and controversialist who loved learned talk and a good argument above all: he could never be accused of a predictable or rigid consis-

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tency in argument and he has at his disposal an almost polymathic expertise. Visitors to the common room need to be warned not to assume that they are safe on any subject, least of all those on which they may think themselves expert. He is quick to puncture humbug. Particularly it is unwise to risk an opinion about any matters referring to East Anglia Qames retains unquestioning loyalty to his native heath) or the Navy. Such discussions, in which James has a huge staying power, are always in good part, good humoured and usually enlightening. To hear him after dinner fencing with Hugo Dyson at Merton about which dreadnought had been sold in which year to which South American navy and after which national hero it had been renamed was pure delight. His astonishing range of knowledge and interests owes much to his skill as a fast reader and a Napoleonic capacity for doing without sleep. If you want a reliable resume of the world's latest news at breakfast, James will give it to you from a night-long attention to the World Service. From the beginning James quickly established his position as a deeply committed tutor and as a Fellow with a strong sense of collegiality. As a tutor he believes completely in the usefulness of his position: with undergraduates of ability he can stretch them far and deep and he has always shown great if stern patience with idlers. He takes infinite trouble with lame dogs, many of whom he has helped over the stile at the end of three years. He has gained a reputation for pithy wit at end of term collections - but it was characteristic of him that once when he had described an earnest plodder as 'careering towards the cliff's edge with all the recklessness of a Gadarene tortoise', he was overcome with remorse and had to be restrained from going to apologize to the man. In Governing Body he was and is always alert and he can spot at once if a potentially disputatious item is about to be eased through by reassuring platitudes. By and large he is suspicious of proposals for change, presuming that most plans for abandoning time-honoured practices were ill-thought out: in modern jargon he might be called proinactive. Always vigilant over proposed expenditures in a poorly endowed college, he enjoyed making the Fellows' flesh creep by projections of the dire consequences which would follow if we went down a new path. He has no belief in an ever-improving economic progress and he can see the merits in a period of national economic stringency: 'Good', he will say, 'that's another half-dozen historic buildings which will not be pulled down'. He would agree with the great Marquess of Salisbury that for a conservative every postponement is a victory. He gave schemes to add to or change the appearance of the College vigorous criticism - with the result sometimes that what others thought a desirable improvement fell by the way. But he could on occasion save us from folly. We have a small common room, in highly varnished dark

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brush-graining which looks handsome, lit by reflected candlelight, when we take dessert there after dinner. But it is rather dark and gloomy in daylight when we lunch. On one occasion, when the room was due for redecoration, the suggestion found some favour that we have it done over in cream or white. The idea did not please James. He delivered a blast against such vandalism. How could we contemplate destroying the ambience of what must be seen as one of the last remaining examples of the dining-room in a small Irish country house? His illogical good sense prevailed. But he did not always win. He once waxed eloquent at a Governing Body meeting in the cause of a dilapidated windmill in East Anglia which was appealing for funds, to which James thought the College should contribute. He turned to Provost Franks for support. Tm glad Mr Campbell has asked me', said the Provost, 'the Pilgrim Trust [of which Franks was a trustee] has just done a national survey of all the country's windmills, arranging them in order of worthiness of preservation. The one Mr Campbell is concerned with conies in the Trust's lowest category.' 'Fair do's, Provost', said James, and we passed on to other business. After the death of our librarian, Richard Sayce, in 1977, James very naturally took his place and the care of the College's intellectual resources became now his greatest and most cherished responsibility in College. He immediately persuaded the College that, for the first time, we should have a full-time professional librarian, and for fifteen years he and Lesley Montgomery (now Mrs Le Claire) worked closely together to bring the library more fully into use than theretofore. James believed both that undergraduates should have a well-stocked and upto-date library within the College and that the rare books and manuscript material in the Fellows' library should be better cared for and made available to scholars. The need for more space for book storage had long been side-stepped because we had seen no way out except for the erection of a new building, bringing with it the cost and inconvenience of a divided site. Spurred on by James, the College architect, Neil Macfadyen, came up with a most ingenious book-stack running the whole length of the existing building above the ceiling of the Lower Library, which could not be seen from the ground. At the same time purpose-designed new rooms were added in the existing storage area of the library for the housing of rare books and manuscript material, while the librarian was at last provided with a suitable office. At a later stage a major work of conservation and rehousing was undertaken of the George Clarke collection of architectural drawings. All this, fired by James's and Lesley Le Claire's enthusiasm, produced a transformation both for undergraduates and scholars and for the standing of the library in the world of learning. In 1971 James had been appointed Dean, a position he occupied with

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clemency, common sense and tolerance, provided offences had not involved the making of noise. From this position he wrote a short sharp letter to The Times., which rounded off a correspondence provoked by Bernard Levin's claim that the world was divided between those who liked cats (himself) and those who liked dogs. The water was muddied by a letter from the editor of Cherwell who maintained (quite untruly) that at Worcester College the problem had been solved when the Fellows had deemed the Dean's dog to be a cat (dogs being forbidden in the College). The editor of Cherwell did not know that the Deanship had recently changed hands and the new Dean had no dog. James wrote, 'Sir, I am the Dean of Worcester College and my cat is not a dog'. Apart from his achievements as a scholar, James's greatest monument is the year he spent as Senior Proctor in 1973-4. He then found himself in a situation which he could not have imagined when he applied for the fellowship so many years before. Relations between senior and junior members of most universities in Europe and America were then balancing on the edge of anarchy: Oxford was no exception. James had to cope with what was probably the most unpleasant confrontation in the university since the St Scholastica's Day riots in 1354. Ostensibly the issue was the 'demand' for a central student union. In fact, the discontent was a symptom of the ubiquitous youth culture of the day which challenged all authority. The agitators, radicals from tiny but serious political groups, soon took to the streets and brought many ill-informed enthusiasts with them. In Michaelmas Term the Examination Schools were occupied for several weeks and were out of the University's control: no miscreants could be clearly identified and no disciplinary action followed. During Hilary term, in an attempt to paralyse the functioning of the University, the sans culottes attempted to occupy the Indian Institute (now the History Faculty Library but then part of the university administrative offices). The guarding of university property and the containment of this incessant popular agitation, much of it orchestrated from outside the University, fell on the minute university police force under the direction of the Proctors, supported by the Vice-Chancellor. The University was determined to keep control of the situation by itself, aware that any attempt to involve the civil police (who had no wish to be called in) would lead to an inevitable escalation and accusations of force and bourgeois brutality. Fortunately, one member of the Proctor's force of bulldogs (as the university's police are called) got inside the Indian Institute at the moment of incursion. He and the willing clerical staff who worked there, aided by workmen who opened a rear window giving access, cleared the building by a peaceful physical ejection. Several ringleaders were identified and charged. These were dealt with

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in the University Disciplinary Court, with lawyers briefed on both sides, in a trial which, interrupted by abuse, violence and clownishness, lasted a fortnight. Eighteen were found guilty and duly rusticated for one year. After this, the eruptions slowly subsided; most of the malcontents finished their courses and have now taken their places in the ranks of the establishment, their locks shorn and their T-shirts abandoned; and their children enjoy an orderly society. In all of this, James, supported by his Junior Proctor, the late Gary Bennett of New College, and their pro-Proctors, never lost his dignity and never wavered. For months he and they lived under continuous pressure and provocation, called out by day and by night and subjected to harassment and threats on the telephone. James was only really angry once: with a modish professor of philosophy who did a private deal with the forces in the Examination Schools so that he could deliver his regular lecture there. He was severely reprimanded. James was deeply offended by the unreason and coarseness of the agitators; finding himself faced with a severed pig's head on the steps of his office in the Clarendon Building and being spat upon from upper windows. Further, unsuccessful, attempts were made on the Indian Institute and the University Offices in Wellington Square. But so thoroughly was decency and calm restored by the time of James's demission of the Proctorship that we, the heirs of James's unwavering single-mindedness, are in danger of forgetting what the University (and other universities who took courage from Oxford's stand) owe him and his colleagues. Had Oxford and, above all, James and the Vice-Chancellor, John (now Sir John) Habbakuk, not stood their ground (with uncertain support from some colleges), much could have been irretrievably lost. If British academics are now much more masters in their own houses than are their colleagues in some parts of the European Community or North America, they owe it very much to James. At the end of his term of office James concluded a full report to Congregation with the words: 'No matter what the temptation to buy peace and hope for the best, never, under any circumstances, should the University make any concessions which will in the slightest impair its power to defend itself'. After this unhappy year James returned to his College duties and took up again what (at least for me) has been a most happy partnership. I can remember no disagreements about whom we should admit or about whom needed chastisement. He was happy to leave the routine administrative matters to me so long as he was provided with at least three copies (to allow for losses) of what his teaching responsibilities would be for the coming term. (He was always something of a mislayer of crucial documents and equally skilful at last-minute rediscovery of them - on one occasion a whole batch of university examination scripts went missing. After much agitation they were discovered under a

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cushion on his sofa.) We usually agreed about faculty matters and enjoyed campaigning in tandem to preserve the syllabus from radical changes. Altogether I could not have had a more congenial and sympathetic colleague to work with nor a more loyal friend. Our friendship withstood one of the greatest of all tests - foreign travel together. James was an excellent companion and greatly increased our mutual pleasure by his observations of the customs and novelties of the people among whom we moved. He had an unerring instinct for small provincial municipal museums and would spend a happy afternoon in building up a picture of medieval Cambrai (was it?) from the display in dusty cases of a brooch, a wooden plough, a broken spoon, a fragment of a psalter or a sliver of lacework. The more obvious beaux arts museums were of less interest to him. But I do remember a most invigorating encounter with the concierges of the museum of Scythian gold in the ancient Pechery lavra at Kiev where we arrived just as it closed and were denied entry. We were leaving the following morning. Without a word of Russian, we staged a vigorous demonstration. I explained loudly that Professor Campbell was a most eminent historian from the University of Oxford and had travelled to Kiev solely to see their treasure. A gathering crowd of curators barred our way, unmoved by our indignation. Eventually they were joined by a young attendant just coming off duty. She spoke English and simply said 'come with me' and, followed by muttering men whom she ignored, she gave us a private tour. 'Take no notice of them,' she said, 'I only work here parttime. They can't do me any harm.' James always showed great enthusiasm at new discoveries. I was wakened in the small hours one night in Moscow and thought I was suffocating. Through a haze of smoke I could make out James, sitting up in bed reading Vernadsky, sustained by very cheap Russian pipe tobacco which he had discovered that afternoon in GUM. He had just found out that early Kievan Rus had a primitive sort of feudal structure. He saw at once the making of a new Special Subject in the history syllabus. I was more immediately concerned with survival and we agreed he should not smoke in the night unless he could position himself near an open window. Later when we visited a village church, east of Moscow, where a service was in progress, James mused, 'Hmm, about the same size of congregation and similar distribution of old women and children as you'd see at a parish evensong in the C. of E. But remember - these old women are not the same ones who were observed by Bernard Shaw and the Webbs; they are their grandchildren.' His adventurousness allowed him to go to the opera in Moscow - something he would not dream of in London. After (what I thought was) a wonderful performance of Eugene Onegin at the Bolshoi, I asked him whether he had enjoyed it.

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'Well,' he said 'I thought I had until you said it had ended. I thought there was another act to come and I realized how relieved I was.' Perhaps the most exciting moment was in Burgos. At James's instigation we stayed at a rather grand hotel (he saw no need for gratuitous discomfort when on holiday). We tidied ourselves up and went down to dine. We crossed to our table under the careful scrutiny of the other rather staid diners. We seemed to pass muster. But as we sat down smoke poured from the pocket of James's jacket. We made a rather less dignified exit but were able to extinguish the conflagration without attracting the attention of what appeared to be the ubiquitous guardias civiles who, no doubt, were on the alert for republican or anarchist terrorists sneaking across the Pyrenees to disturb the tranquillity of El Jefe's old age. After this episode all was quiet and we later spent a happy but rather fruitless afternoon trying to site the regimental formations on the battlefield of Salamanca. This volume is witness to James's quality as a historian and the esteem in which he is held by authors all of whom spent some part of their apprenticeship with him. But James himself, rigidly professional in his work, finds it hard to recognize his own distinction. One evening he came to my room in a state of some agitation and distress. He said he had been the object of a monstrous hoax and did not know what do do about it. He then handed me a letter telling him that he had been elected as a Fellow of the British Academy. He refused to believe that it could be genuine. It took me most of the night and nearly a whole bottle of Scotch to convince him that it was the real thing and nothing more than a proper recognition of his scholarship. James is still at the height of his powers. His position in the world of scholarship and his standing in the University and the College are assured. His friends hope to enjoy his company for many years. Long may he suddenly dart from the room after a long conversation, with the not-quite-ironic cry of 'Ah well, off we go to do good'. We are all beneficiaries of his efforts.

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Bibliography of James Campbell (to 1998) Short book reviews are not included. For items marked * see under 1986. For items marked f see under 2000.

1959 'Worcester College and the University Election of 1865', Worcester College, 1957-59 (the Worcester College house journal), 13-16.

1965 'England, Scotland and the Hundred Years War in the Fourteenth Century', in Europe in the Late Middle Ages, ed. John Hale, Roger Highfield and Beryl Smalley (London), pp. 184-216. 1966 'Bede', in Latin Historians, ed. T.A. Dorey (London), pp. 159-90.* 1968 Bede. The Ecclesiastical History of the English People and Other Selections, edited, abridged and with an introduction by James Campbell (New York). Introduction, pp. vii-xxxvi.* 'The Diary of John Amphlett of Clent, 1845-1915', Worcester College, 1966-68, 18-32. 1971 'The First Century of Christianity in England', Ampleforth Journal, 76, 12-29.* 1973 'Observations on the Conversion of England', Ampleforth Journal, 78, 12-26.* 1974 'Oration by the Senior Proctor for 1973-4 delivered in Congregation on 20 March 1974', Oxford University Gazette, 104, no. 3594, 1177-80 (contains an account of the disturbances in the University during the proctorial year 1973-4).

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1975 'Observations on English Government from the Tenth to the Twelfth Century', TRHS, 5th series, 25, 39-54.* 'The Age of Arthur' (review of J. Morris, The Age of Arthur, London, 1973)5 Studia Hibernica, 15, 177-85.* 'Norwich', in The Atlas of Historic Towns, ii, ed. M.D. Lobel (London), pp. 1-25 (separate pagination). 1977 'Interesting Times', Worcester College Record, 1977, 21-8 (a partial reprint of the Oration in Congregation, above 1974). 1978 'Die Sozialordnung der Angelsachsen nach den Schriftquellen', in Sachsen und Angelsachsen, ed. C. Ahrends (Hamburg), pp. 455-62; translated as 'Early Anglo-Saxon Society According to Written Sources'.* 'England, France, Flanders and Germany: Some Comparisons and Connection', in Ethelred the Unready: Papers from the Millenary Conference, ed. D. Hill, BAR, British Series, 59 (Oxford), pp. 255-70.* 'Richard Anthony Sayce', Worcester College Record, 1978, 8-13. 1979 Bede's Reges andPrincipes (farrow Lecture, 1979).* 'Bede's Words for Places', in Names, Words and Graves, ed. P.H. Sawyer (Leeds), pp. 34-54.* 'The Church in Anglo-Saxon Towns', in The Church in Town and Countryside, Studies in Church History, 16 (Oxford), pp. 119-35.* 1980 'The Significance of the Anglo-Norman State in the Administrative History of Western Europe', in Histoire comparee de Fadministration (IVe-XVIIIe siecks) (Beihefte der Francia, 9, Munich), pp. 117-34.* 1982 The Anglo-Saxons, ed. James Campbell (Oxford); author of chapters i-3> 4 (PP- 8o-i)3 10. 1983 'Gloucester College', Worcester College Record, 1983, 15-24.

Bibliography of James Campbell

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1984 'Some Twelfth-Century Views of the Anglo-Saxon Past', Peritia, 3, 131-50.* 1986 Essays in Anglo-Saxon History (The Hambledon Press, London) (reprint of thirteen articles, etc, published between 1966 and 1984, marked * above). 'Asser's Life of Alfred', in The Inheritance of Historiography) 550-900, ed. C. Holdsworth and T.P. Wiseman, Exeter Studies in History, 12 (Exeter), pp. ii5-35-t 'Masterman, Sir John Cecil (1891-1977)', in The Dictionary of National Biography: 1971-1980, ed. Lord Blake and C.S. Nicholls (Oxford), pp. 551-2. 1987 'Some Agents and Agencies of the Late Anglo-Saxon State', in Domesday Studies., ed. J.C. Holt (Woodbridge), pp. 201-18.f 'The Debt of the Early English Church to Ireland', in Irland und die Christenheit: Bibelstudien und Mission, ed. P. Ni Chatham and M. Richter (Stuttgart), pp. 332-46. 1989 'Elements in the Background to the Life of St Cuthbert and his Early Cult', in St Cuthbert, His Cult and His Community to AD 1200, ed. Gerald Bonner, David Rollason and Clare Stancliffe (Woodbridge), pp. 3-i9-t 'The Sale of Land and the Economics of Power in Early England: Problems and Possibilities', Haskins Society Journal, i, 23-37.! Stubbs and the English State (Stenton Lecture, Reading).! 'Was it Infancy in England? Some Questions of Comparison', in England and Her Neighbours, 1066-1453: Essays in Honour of Pierre Chaplais, ed. Michael Jones and Malcolm Vale (London), pp. i-i7.f 1992 'The Impact of the Sutton Hoo Discovery on the Study of AngloSaxon History', in Voyage to the Other World: The Legacy of Sutton Hoo, ed. C.B. Kendall and P.S. Wells (Minneapolis, Minnesota), pp. 79-ioi.f Review of M. Biddle, Object and Economy in Medieval Winchester (Oxford, 1990), EHR, 107, 121-4.

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1993 'England, c. 991', in The Battle of Maldon: Fiction and Fact, ed. Janet Cooper (London), pp. i-iy.f 'The Library', Worcester College Record, 1993, 28-9. 1994 Review of C. Hart, The Danelaw (London, 1992), EHR, 109, 102-5. 'Stenton's Anglo-Saxon England, with Special Reference to the Earlier Period', in Stenton's 'Anglo-Saxon England' Fifty Years On, ed. D. Matthew, Reading Historical Studies, i (Reading), pp. 49-59-t 'The Late Anglo-Saxon State: A Maximum View', Proceedings of the British Academy, 87, 39-65.! 1995 'The United Kingdom of England: The Anglo-Saxon Achievement', in Uniting the Kingdom? The Making of British History, ed. A. Grant and KJ. Stringer (London), pp. 31-47.! Review of J. Blair, Anglo-Saxon Oxfordshire (Far Thrupp, 1994), Oxford Magazine, no. 116, 25-7. Review of Karl Leyser, Communications and Power in Medieval Europe (London, 1994), Bulletin of the German Historical Institute, 17, 41-8. 1996 'The East Anglian Sees before the Conquest', in Norwich Cathedral: Church, City and Diocese, 1096-1996, ed. Ian Atherton et al. (London), pp. 3-21.f 1997 'David Mitchell', Worcester College Record, 1997, 15-16. The History of the English Shires (Matlock) (a lecture, published by the Derbyshire County Council).

1998 Review of The New Cambridge Medieval History, ii, c. 700—900, ed. Rosamond McKitterick, EHR, 113, 680-4. 2000

The Anglo-Saxon State (The Hambledon Press, London) (reprint of twelve articles, etc, published between 1986 and 1996, marked f above).

1 Peculiaris Patronus Noster: The Saint as Patron of the State in the Early Middle Ages ALAN THACKER What follows examines the character of certain significant saints' cults and their role in the emergent states of western Europe in the period between the seventh and mid tenth centuries. The cults under discussion are those which were most closely bound to the state; that is, those best described as 'supra-regional', from having a special relationship with a gens or kingdom, or, more narrowly, with a dynasty ruling such a people or kingdom. Starting with France and Italy, the analysis considers how these cults developed, the kinds of figures who were their focus, and their relation to secular and ecclesiastical authority. It concludes with a discussion of English cults, and the important ways in which they related to, and differed from, the French and Italian exemplars. As a working definition of 'state', I shall adopt that recently proposed by Susan Reynolds and derived from Weber: 'an organization of human society within a more or less fixed area in which the ruler or governing body more or less successfully controls the legitimate use of physical force'.1 As Miss Reynolds goes on to point out, this definition lays stress on legitimacy rather than legislation or taxation, although the existence of such activities may perhaps be inferred from the subjects' acceptance of their rulers' power.2 How do the terms gens or regnum relate to this definition of the state? * I am most grateful to Dr Paul Kershaw and Dr Geoffrey West for reading and commenting very helpfully on earlier drafts of this essay. It was James Campbell who, as my undergraduate tutor at Worcester College, introduced me (through Bede) to early medieval history and its particular pleasures, rooted in a searching and exacting approach to its meagre but excitingly interdisciplinary sources. Ever since, I have always been aware that his has been by far the most formative influence on my intellectual development. This essay is offered in most grateful, if wholly inadequate, acknowledgement of that debt. 1 Susan Reynolds, 'The Historiography of the Medieval State', in Companion to Historiography, ed. Michael Bentley (London and New York), pp. 117-38, at p. 118. 2 Ibid., pp. 117-22.

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In the early Middle Ages a gens might be defined as a community with common law and customs and a sense of ethnic identity,3 but not necessarily common government. It did not always form a state. Kingdoms, on the other hand, might be both more or less than a gem but again were not inevitably states. Frankia, for example, from the early sixth century incorporated kingdoms formerly ruled by other barbarian gentes such as the Burgundians and Visigoths. In the sixth and seventh centuries, however, it was ruled by a single family, the Merovingians, whose legitimacy was widely accepted and who had at their disposal considerable physical force; it could therefore in some sense be thought of as a kingdom or state and is often referred to as such.4 It was, however, usually divided internally into component Teilreiche which in the sixth century in particular had fluctuating boundaries and unstable existences, and which were often at war with each other.5 Although the latter scarcely meet Miss Reynold's state criteria, they undoubtedly impaired the state-like character of the larger polity to which they in some sense belonged. That polity was to remain subject to division under the Carolingians, although West Frankia enjoyed a long period as nominally a single regnum under Charles the Bald (843-77).6 The Lombards, by contrast, comprised a single gens divided into several political entities - a kingdom and more or less independent duchies each having something of the character of individual states.7 The contemporary Anglo-Saxons, too, were presented by Bede in the early eighth century as in some sense a single people, the gens Anglorum, but were divided into a multiplicity of kingdoms, of which some had powerful rulers and a sophisticated internal organization, but many lacked stable boundaries and were only spasmodically fully independent. Unlike Frankia, however, they were not ruled by a single dynasty For a summary of recent views see Guy Halsall, 'The Barbarian Invasions', in New Cambridge Medieval History, i, ed. P. Fouracre (Cambridge, forthcoming); Susan Reynolds, Kingdoms and Communities in Western Europe, 900-1300 (2nd edn, Oxford, I997)>PP-254-54 E.g. Ian Wood, The Merovingian Kingdoms, 450-751 (London, 1994), pp. 1-4. Wood also terms this state a kingdom. 5 Ibid., pp. 55-8, 60-3, 88-101, 140-9; E. Ewig, 'Die frankischen Teilungen und Teilreiche' and 'Die frankischen Teilreiche im 7. Jahrhundert', both in idem, Spdtantikes undfrdnkisches Gallien (Munich, 1976), pp. 114-71, 172-230. 6 Janet Nelson, 'The Prankish Kingdoms, 814-98: The West', in NCMH, ii, ed. R. D. McKitterick (Cambridge, 1995), pp. 110-41, esp. pp. 130-6; eadem, Charles the Bald (London, 1992). 7 C. Wickham, Early Medieval Italy (London, 1981), pp. 33-4; Paolo Delogu, 'Lombard and Carolingian Italy', in NCMH, ii (Cambridge, 1995), pp. 290-319, at pp. 290-2; Reinhard Schneider, Konigswahl und Konigserhebung in Fruhmittelalter; Untersuchungen zum Herrschaftsnachfolge bei die Langobarden und Merovingen (Stuttgart, 1972). 3

Peculiaris Patronus Noster

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but by a group of (admittedly interrelated) families. Seventh- and eighth-century England as a whole was not therefore a state, nor perhaps were most of its numerous component polities.8 The earliest example in western Europe of a saint with a more than local role is, of course, St Peter, patron of the city, see and territory ruled from Rome. In the late sixth century, Pope Gregory the Great viewed western Christendom as a societas reipublicae christianae, over which he as head of the Roman church exercised a principatus.9 Already the papacy possessed a degree of independence from the Byzantine Empire and its Italian exarch, and its own bureaucracy and means of raising taxes. By the late seventh century papal leadership in the loosening of Italy's ties with Byzantium had given birth to the republic of St Peter.10 Of course the papacy was highly exceptional, with its extensive claims to spiritual and temporal lordship and its scattered patrimony, mostly outside its localized base in and around Rome. Even so, the presence of St Peter's corporeal remains in Rome, and the pope's role as his successor and guardian of those remains, meant that Peter lived in a special way in the city, and provided the most comprehensive example of a holy patron, whose guardianship extended over an entity far wider and more complex than a local dynasty or community. That example was to make apostolicity, with its connotations of mission and doctrinal orthodoxy, a significant qualification for local saints destined for a supra-regional role as patrons of a gens or a regnum. In western Europe, outside Rome, the earliest example of a cult, originally local, which developed supra-regional characteristics is that of St Martin, the fourth-century missionary bishop of Tours. The cult began to take off in the mid-fifth century, and by the early sixth Martin could be defined by Bishop Avitus of Vienne as Gaul's 'chosen particular pastor' (electus proprius pastor}.11 At Tours itself, the saint was energetically promoted by the local bishops, above all, of course, Gregory (d. 594), who described pilgrims coming to the shrine from every part of 8 Patrick Wormald, 'Bede, the Bretwaldas and the Origins of the Gens Anglorum1, in Ideal and Reality in Prankish and Anglo-Saxon Society, ed. P. Wormald, D. Bullough and R. Collins (Oxford, 1983), pp. 99-129. Cf. James Campbell, 'The First Christian Kings', in Anglo-Saxons, ed. Campbell et al., pp. 45-68, esp. pp. 53-61. 9 W. Ullmann, The Growth of Papal Government (2nd edn, London, 1962), pp. 36-8. 10 T. F. X. Noble, The Republic of St Peter (Philadelphia, 1984), esp. pp. 15, 57-60, 212-54. 11 And also as patron of Galicia: 'Electum propriumque tenet te Gallia gaudens/ Pastorem, teneat Gallecia tota patronum': Avitus, Opera, ed. R. Peiper, Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Auctores Antiquissimi, VI.2 (Berlin, 1883), P- 195- Cf. Venantius Fortunatus, Vita Sancti Martini, ed. F. Leo, MGH, Auct. Ant. IV. i (Berlin, 1881), I, lines 47-8 (p. 296); Paulinus of Perigueux, De vita Sancti Martini episcopi, libri VI, ed. M. Petschenig, Corpus scriptorum ecclesiasticorum Latinontm, xvi (Vienna, 1888), i, line 10 (p. 19).

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Gaul and beyond.12 Martin in his role as pastor and patron of Gaul was a creation of the church. But he was also given status by the Merovingians, who from the time of Clovis (d. 511) adopted him as a special protector, enabling Bishop Gregory to present the fortunes of the royal house as intimately interwoven with those of the shrine at Tours.13 Here, it may be, Martin's soldierly background rendered him attractive.14 Even so, he had no monopoly over the affections of the Merovingians.15 In the sixth century Clovis chose to be buried in his own church of the Holy Apostles in Paris, and other kings and princes were laid to rest in Soissons, near the remains of Sts Crispin and Crispinian or St Medard, and in Paris, by the stolen relics of the Spanish protomartyr Vincent of Saragossa or within the oratory which St Genevieve had erected over the tomb of St Denis near the royal palace of Clichy.16 In the seventh century the Merovingians developed closer relations with the cult, and by the 6yos the famous cappa, supposedly the military cloak which St Martin had shared with a beggar,17 was kept in the palace chapel of Theuderic III (675-690/1 ).18 Its acquisition, perhaps in the time of Dagobert I, might be thought to mark a further stage in the Merovingians' relations with Martin. Ironically, however, it seems to have come just as Dagobert I was looking towards a fresh cult - that of St Denis at Paris.19 Although Martin remained one of the most important saints in Prankish Gaul, and although Dagobert himself commissioned rich new adornments for his shrine,20 the Prankish royal house See Gregory of Tours, Decem libri historiarum, ed. B. Krusch and W. Levison, MGH, Script. Rer. Merov. I.i (editio altera, Hanover, 1951); idem, Krusch, De virtutibus sancti Martini episcopi, ed. B. Krusch, MGH, Script. Rer. Merov. 1.2 (Hanover, 1885); E. Ewig, 'Le culte de Saint Martin a 1'epoque Franque', Revue d'histoire de I'eglise de France, 47 (1961), 1-18; J. M. Wallace-Hadrill, The Prankish Church (Oxford, 1983), pp. 39-40, 6r, M. Vieillard-Troiekouroff, Les monuments religieux de la Gaule d'apres les oeuvres de Gregoire de Tours (Paris, 1976), pp. 155-8, 311-24; S. Farmer, Communities of Saint Martin (Ithaca, New York, 1991), pp. 20-9. 13 Greg. Tours, Decem libri, ii. 37-8, 43; iv. 2, 15, 20-1; v. 14, 47; vi. 10 (pp. 85-9, 93-4, 136, 147, 152-4, 207-13, 257, 279-80). 14 Sulpicius Severus, Vita Sancti Martini, ed. J. Fontaine (3 vols, Paris, 1967-9), cc. 2-4 (i. 254-62). Cf. Farmer, Communities, pp. 25-6. 15 See especially Raymond van Dam, Saints and Their Miracles in Late Antique Gaul (Princeton, 1993), pp. 13-21. 16 Vieillard-Troiekouroff, Monuments, pp. 206-8, 211-14, 252-3, 288-90. For a full list see K. H. Kriiger, Konigsgrabkirchen der Franken, Angelsachsen und Langobarden bis zur Mitte des 8. Jahrhunderts (Munich, 1971), pp. 29-250. 17 Sulpicius Severus, Vita Sancti Martini, cap. 3 (i.256-8). 18 'In oraturio nostro super capella domni Martini': Diplomata regum Francorum ex stirpe Merowingica, ed. G. Pertz, MGH, Diplomata imperil, i (Hanover, 1872), no. 49 (p. 45); Ewig, 'Le culte de Saint Martin', 9. 19 Wallace-Hadrill, Prankish Church, p. 61. 20 Vita Sancti Eligii, ed. B. Krusch, MGH, Script. Rer. Merov. IV (Hanover, 1902), i.32 (pp. 688-9). 12

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5

never accorded him the unquestioned pre-eminence it allowed to his Parisian rival. Martin had a powerful champion of his own in the bishop of Tours, and ultimately the Merovingians preferred a figure dependent on them alone. St Denis, first bishop of Paris, although probably martyred in the third century, was by the sixth believed to have been sent to Gaul by Clement I (c. 9i-c. 101), fourth bishop of Rome and supposedly consecrated by St Peter himself. From such an account Denis could be regarded as having apostolic credentials, like the missionary bishops of Narbonne and Toulouse.21 The church of Saint-Denis, supposedly built around the tomb of the martyred bishop and his two companions, was already highly favoured by the Merovingians in the late sixth century, when Arnegunde, widow of Chlothar I (d. 561), and her grandson Dagobert were buried there. The cult prospered even more under Chlothar II (d. 629), and was raised to the highest rank by his son Dagobert I (d. 639). These two rulers established Denis as the special patron of the royal house; for them he was peculiaris patronus noster, a phrase used continually by their successors in grants to the abbey until their disappearance in the mid-eighth century.22 Dagobert was particularly generous. He caused the saint and his companions to be elevated and enshrined in a splendid monument made of marble and enriched with gold and precious stones by the royal master goldsmith Eligius (d. 660), later bishop of Noyon.23 He endowed the guardian community so richly that he came to be regarded as its founder, and established a fair on the saint's feast day (9 October) which quickly became an international event.24 He introduced the perpetual office, the laus perennis, in imitation of the Burgundian monastery of SaintMaurice-en-Valais and of the church of Saint-Martin at Tours.25 Under Dagobert, however, Saint-Denis remained an episcopal basilica. Only under Clovis II (d. 657) and his wife Balthildis (d. 680) did it 21 Passio sanctorum martyrum Dionysii, Rustici et Eleutherii, ed. B. Krusch, MGH, Auct. Ant. W (2) (Berlin, 1995), pp. 101-5, esp. pp. 102, 103; Liber pontificate, ed. L. Duchesne (3 vols, 2nd edn., Paris, 1955-7), i? no. 4 (p. 123); S. McK. Crosby, The Royal Abbey of Saint-Denis (New Haven, 1987), pp. 3-12, 454-5. Although probably added to the original passio, the Clementine tradition was known to the author of the Vita Genovefae: R. J. Loenertz, 'La legende parisienne de S. Denys 1'Areopagite: sa genese et son premier temoin', Analecta Bollandiana, 69 (1951), 217-37, at 218-21. 22 Wallace-Hadrill, Prankish Church, pp. 126-30; Crosby, Royal Abbey, pp. 7-8. 23 Gesta Dagobertil, ed. B. Krusch, MGH, Script. Rer. Merov. II (Hanover, 1888), cc. 17-20 (pp. 406-7); V. Eligii, i, 32 (pp. 688-9) ~ but note that among Eligius's shrineworks those for St Martin still have pride of place. 24 A. Marignan, La culte des saints sous les Merovingiens (2 vols, Paris, 1899), ii. 133-4; A. R. Lewis, The Northern Seas (Princeton, 1958), p. 125; J. M. Wallace-Hadrill, The Long-Haired Kings (London, 1962), pp. 225-6. 25 Anne Walters Robertson, The Service Books of the Royal Abbey of Saint-Denis (Oxford, 1991), pp. 9-18, 220.

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become, like the other seniores basilicae, a monastery with immunity from the local bishop, the laus perennis, discontinued after Dagobert's death, being then resumed. Through these rulers the cult was brought firmly under royal control.26 The Merovingians' lavish provision of physical and ritual splendour not only honoured the saint but ensured that the benefactors and their relatives who were interred at Saint-Denis were kept constantly in the minds of the clergy, their visitors and dependents. The impact of all this, of course, depended largely upon the numbers of pilgrims resorting to the church. Although, however, Denis remained the Merovingians' favourite saint, there is little, apart from the undoubted popularity of the fair, to indicate that in their day his tomb ever rivalled that of St Martin at its zenith as a theatre for the performance of wonders.27 Denis was still primarily patron of the ruling dynasty of Frankia rather than of the Prankish state and people. The cult's successful transference from the Merovingians to the Carolingians enhanced its role as a state cult. Already in the early eighth century, Charles Martel (d. 741) had lavished unparalleled favour upon the community of Saint-Denis, to such effect that it eventually acquired the entire royal estate at Clichy.28 Charles himself was buried at the abbey.29 With the deposition of the last of the Merovingians in 751 and the arrival of Fulrad as abbot, Saint-Denis became firmly loyal to the supplanting dynasty and in due course the burial place of the first Carolingian king, Pippin (d. 768).30 Fulrad's abbacy (751-84) was also marked by increased interest in the saint's miracles,31 and a reconstruction of the abbey church which included a rehousing of the saint's relics in a ring-crypt based on those currently being built in Rome.32 Even so, under Charlemagne Denis remained only one among several patrons of the regnum Francorum. That is apparent from the royal laudes. In those celebrated litanies, the earliest form of which dates back to the 7805, the saints invoked in the acclamation of the Prankish army, who may be regarded as those then esteemed by contemporaries 26

Ibid., pp. 19-24; J. Semmler, 'Saint-Denis: von der bischoflichen Coemeterialbasilika zur koniglichen Benediktinerabtei', in La Neustrie: les pays au nord de la Loire de 650 a 850, ed. H. Atsma (Sigmaringen, 1989), pp. 75-123. 27 The community maintained no liber miraculorum like Tours. For an early miracle, performed by Eligius of Noyon on Denis's feast day, see Robertson, Service Books, p. 12. 28 Wallace-Hadrill, Prankish Church., pp. 132-3. 29 Kruger, Konigsgrabkirchen, pp. 179, 181. 30 Ibid., 179, 182; Wallace-Hadrill, Prankish Church, pp. 140-1. 31 Leon Levillain, 'Etudes sur 1'abbaye de Saint-Denis a 1'epoque merovingienne', Bibliotheque de I'Ecole des Charles, 82 (1921), 5-116, esp. 58-71. 32 Crosby, Royal Abbey, pp. 61-83, esP- PP- 56-61; J. Crook, 'The Architectural Setting of the Cult of the Saints in the Early Medieval West and its Development in the English Romanesque' (Univ. of Oxford, D.Phil, thesis, 1995), pp. 116-19.

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as the principal patrons of the regnum, were seven in number: besides Denis, they included the bishop-confessors Martin of Tours and Hilary of Poitiers, the soldier-martyrs Maurice of Agaunum and Gereon of Cologne, and the preacher-martyrs Crispin and Crispinian of Soissons. Status alone seems to have dictated their inclusion; certainly there can have been no geographical rationale, five of the seven being drawn from what can loosely be regarded as West Frankia.33 The last and crucial development of the Dionysiac legend came under Hilduin (814-40): the identification of the Parisian martyr with the Areopagite, disciple of St Paul and supposed author of the neoplatonist treatise, the Celestial Hierarchy.34 That sensational sleight of hand, which conclusively affirmed the apostolic credentials of the Carolingians' special patron,35 inaugurated a flood of fresh hagiography, including Hilduin's Life, Hincmar's Miracles and the co-authored Gesta Dagoberti.36 It also saw a marked increase in the number of miracles performed by the saint,37 and in 832 Hilduin added a further chapel to the east of Fulrad's confessio to enhance access to the relics.38 Under Charles the Bald, the cult was especially closely identified with the West Prankish regnum and its ruler. In 840 Hilduin was succeeded by a grandson of Charlemagne, and in 867 Charles himself became lay abbot.39 The most potent expression of this relationship was the feasts instituted at the abbey by Charles in 862 in return for his daily commemoration in psalmody and at mass at his intended burial place before the altar of the treasury; in a grant made to his 'glorious lord and protector, our Denis', the king provided for feasts to be kept by the monks and 'in as far as possible the poor' on the anniversaries of his birth, consecration, victory in the field, his marriage to Queen Ermintrude and Ermintrude's own birth; two of these, the victory and the queen's birth, were, as appropriate, to be replaced by commemorations of the royal couple's deaths.40 A second grant made on the same day made similar provision for feasts to commemorate the obits of Ewig, 'Le culte de Saint Martin', 18; E. Kantorowicz, Laudes Regiae: A Study in Liturgical Acclamations and Medieval Ruler Worship (Berkeley/Los Angeles, 1946; 2nd printing, 1958), pp. 15-16, 21. 34 Loenertz, 'Legende parisienne', 221-34. 35 Ibid., 233. 36 Hilduin, Historia Sancti Dionysii, ed. J. P. Migne, Patrologia Latina, 106 (Paris, 1851), cols 14-50; Miracula Sancti Dionysii, ed. J. Mabillon, Acta sanctorum ordinis Sancti Benedicti, saeculum 3, pars 2 (Paris, 1772), pp. 342-64; Gesta Dagoberti, ed. Krusch, MGH, Script. Rer. Merov. II. 396-425 (and see above n. 23); Levillain, 'Etudes', 28-116; Loenertz, 'Legende parisienne', 221-34. 37 Levillain, 'Etudes', 60. 38 Crosby, Royal Abbey, pp. 85-94. 39 Ibid., pp. 94-5; The Annals of Saint-Benin, trans, and annotated by J. L. Nelson (Manchester, 1991), pp. 86, 138. 40 Ermintrude died in 869. 33

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Charles's grandparents, Charlemagne and Hildegarde, and his paternal aunt, Bertha (d. after 823), invoking as precedent the feasts instituted by Abbot Hilduin to mark major holy days and the obits of the Emperor Louis the Pious (d. 840) and himself. The custom was, however, exploited on a new scale by Charles (not just at Saint-Denis), and represented a highly effective means of enhancing his family's prestige through perpetual (and agreeable) association with the saint and the unchanging liturgical round.41 Such expansive innovations apart, the cult was on the defensive. Although the abbey remained largely unharmed by Viking attacks, the saint's precious relics were several times removed for their protection. Even the addition in 876-7 of a further book of miracles to the two already compiled by Hincmar was motivated largely by the need to defend the reputation of the Areopagite, whose writings were then the subject of dispute.42 By then the cult's greatest days were over, at least until it was raised to prominence again by Suger in the twelfth century. One other major Prankish cult merits attention, although its development is rather different from the two described above. The cult of Remigius (d. 533), bishop of Reims and baptizer of Clovis, remained primarily a local affair long after the saint's elevation and enshrinement in the mid-sixth century.43 Initially, perhaps, the growth in the saint's reputation under the Carolingians owed something to English identification of mission as crucial to the role of patron of the gens:44 it was Alcuin who, conscious of Remigius's role as baptizer of Clovis and his men, accorded Remigius the title of doctor Francorum.45 The main development, however, was the work of Hincmar, archbishop of Reims (845-82), and formed a crucial element in his assertion of his see's primatial claims, especially in his defence of its authority over the almost equally ancient suffragan see of Laon.46 Hincmar translated Remigius's remains to a place of high honour in a new crypt, and in his continuation of the annals of Saint-Benin, sub anno 869, proclaimed the 41 Recueil des actes de Charles II, le Chauve, roi de France, ed. A. Giry, M. Prou, and G. Tessier (3 vols, Paris, 1943-55), ii, nos 246-7 (pp. 53-67); J. M. Wallace-Hadrill, 'A Carolingian Renaissance Prince: The Emperor Charles the Bald', Proceedings of the British Academy, Ixiv (1978), 155-84, at 165-6. 42 Levillain, 'Etudes', 60. 43 Hincmar, Vita Sancti Remigii, ed. B. Krusch, MGH, Script. Rer. Merov. Ill (Hanover, 1896), cap. 25 (p. 321); Crook, 'Architectural Setting', pp. 83-4. 44 Below, pp. 17-18. 45 P. Depreux, 'Imbuendis adfidem prefulgidum surrexit lumen gentibus: La devotion a Saint Remi de Reims au IXe et Xe siecles', Cahiers de civilisation medievale, 35 (1992), 111-29, at 123; Alcuin, Carmina, ed. E. Diimmler, in MGH, Poetae latiniaevi Carolini, i (Berlin, 1881), pp. 310, 316, 342. 46 J. Devisse, Hincmar, archeveque de Reims, 845-82 (3 vols, Geneva, 1975-6), ii. 643-57-

Peculiaris Patronus Noster

9

saint 'apostle of the Franks'.47 In the late 8yos, almost at the end of his career, he wrote an elaborate Life of Remigius, which he viewed as his most important work and in which he again refers to the saint (though only once) as the Franks' apostle. Remigius's claims to that title were clear, and were spelt out in the 869 annal: he not only converted Clovis by his preaching, baptizing him and 3000 of his men on Easter Eve, but also anointed and consecrated the king with heavenly chrism, some of which, Hincmar contended, was still preserved at Reims in his day.48 These claims, which gave the saint a major role in legitimizing the king and through him the West Prankish regnum, were taken up and developed by Hincmar's successor, Archbishop Fulk (883-900). In the mid-88os, in a letter to King Alfred (to which I shall return), he too referred to Remigius as the true apostle of the Franks, through whom they had been delivered from grievous error and brought to worship the one true God.49 In the 8905, remarkably, he even managed to obtain confirmation of Remigius's apostolic status from Pope Formosus (89I-6).50 In Frankia, then, several ingredients went into the making of a Reichsheiliger, a patron of the state: apostolic or martyr status which could recommend him to churchmen, military associations which won favour with the army, and an established tomb-cult which could command popular veneration. The earliest saint so classifiable (however loosely) was largely a creation of the Gaulish episcopate, though he was also adopted as a protector by the royal house. Martin's power, displayed through so many miracles, and the widespread devotion in which he was held, made him a valuable ally. Valuable, but not only to the Merovingians: for a patron more fully their own they turned to Denis. Guarded by a community which was largely their creation, Denis developed by stages into a state as distinct from a purely dynastic patron, a process which culminated in his identification with the Areopagite. With the acquisition of quasi-apostolic status came a well-developed record of popular miracles and the perpetual commemoration of the Carolingians in the domestic ceremonial of the saint's familia. This marked the zenith of royal participation in Prankish state cults. By the 8yos the problems faced by the Carolingians allowed Hincmar, V. Remigii, p. 267; Wallace-Hadrill, Prankish Church, pp. 301-2. Les annales de Saint-Bertin, ed. F. Grat, J. Vieilliard, and S. Clement (Paris, 1964), pp. 162-3; Annals ofSt-Bertin, trans. Nelson, p. 161. 49 Councils and Synods with Other Documents Relating to the English Church, ed. D. Whitelock, M. Brett and C. N. L. Brooke (2 vols, Oxford, 1981), i. 6-12. Cf. Janet Nelson, '. . . sicut olim gens Francorum . . . nunc gens Anglorum: Fulk's Letter to Alfred Revisited', in Alfred the Wise, ed. J. Roberts, J. L. Nelson and M. Godden (Cambridge, 1997), PP- 135-44, esp. pp. 141-2. 50 Nelson, 'Fulk's Letter', p. 140. 47

48

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The Medieval State

the church in some degree to take the initiative, in the person of Archbishop Hincmar, with the promotion of Remigius and his representative at Reims to a crucial role in legitimizing royal authority. It is instructive to compare these Prankish developments with the dominant cults of the Lombardic states in contemporary Italy. According to Paul the Deacon, the Lombards had identified with a patron saint from an early period. Queen Theodelinda (d. 628) had founded a celebrated church in honour of John the Baptist at Monza, and in response, Paul claimed, the saint continually interceded for the gens Langobardorum.51 The special nature of the Baptist's relationship with the Lombard monarchy was further demonstrated by Paul's story about King Rothari (d. 652), the violator of whose remains was punished by the saint, on the grounds that the king (despite his Arian faith) 'had commended himself to me'.52 Significantly Rothari had married Gundiperga, the daughter of Theodelinda, who also founded a church dedicated to the Baptist in Pavia, where she and, almost certainly, her husband were buried.53 Perhaps more important, and certainly more fully attested, was the Lombards' close association with the cult of the Archangel Michael. That cult, which was attractive because Michael could be viewed as both warrior and healer, perhaps commanded prestige in the first instance because of its association with the Byzantine emperors.54 It was, however, effectively localized by the archangel's appearances in Puglia to the bishop of Sipontum (now Siponto next to modern Manfredonia), supposedly in the late fifth and early sixth centuries. According to the record of those appearances, Michael revealed that he had consecrated a cave nearby on Monte Gargano, where he had already demonstrated his power, as his sanctuary and cult centre.55 This place, of which he was inspector atque custos, effectively provided the incorporeal archangel with a focus as powerful as the tombs of mortal saints.56 It soon developed into a major pilgrimage centre especially among the Lombards, although in the late seventh or early Paul the Deacon, Historia Langobardorum, ed. L. Bethman and G. Waitz, MGH, Scriptores rerum Langobardicarum, v. 6 (pp. 146-7). 52 'Fuerit licet non recte credens, tamen mihi se commendavit.' 53 Paul the Deacon, Historia Langobardorum, iv. 47 (p. 136). 54 M. G. Mara and F. Spadafora, 'Michele, Arcangelo, Santo', in Bibliotheca sanctorum (12 vols, Rome, 1961-9), ix, cols 410-46, esp. cols 410-37; D. Harrison, 'The Duke and the Archangel', Collegium medievale, 6 (1993), 5-33, at 16-21. 55 Liber de apparitione Sancti Michaelis in Monte Gargano, and Vita Sancti Laurentii Episcopi Sipontini, both in MGH, Scriptores rerum Langobardicarum, ed. G. Waitz et al. (Hanover, 1878), pp. 541-5, esp. at pp. 541-2 (cap. 2-4). 56 Liber, c. 2 (p. 541). 51

Peculiaris Patronus Noster

11

eighth century visitors came from as far away as England.57 The Lombards involvement goes back at least to the reigns of the Lombard dukes of Benevento, Grimoald I (646/7-62) and his son Romuald I (662-87), who protected the sanctuary, adorned it with new buildings and carefully commemorated their patronage in two fine public inscriptions on the so-called 'rulers' pillar' at the site.58 Duke Grimoald, 'vir bellicosissimus et ubique insegnis', was associated with the cult by about 650, when according to Paul the Deacon he repulsed a Byzantine attack on the sanctuary at Monte Gargano with great slaughter.59 Later Beneventan tradition, recorded by Erchempert c. 890, placed the battle on 8 May, the day on which the archangel's appearances in Puglia came to be commemorated.60 In 662 the duke became king of the Lombards, and it was probably in his time that the cult of Michael was popularized in northern Italy.61 Thereafter, the Lombards dedicated numerous churches to St Michael throughout the kingdom62 and in Spoleto perhaps promoted a further cult site in a second grotto at Monte Tancia in Lazio.63 By the 6905 in the reign of 57

See especially the inscriptions within the sanctuary, which date from the midseventh century to the earlier ninth: C. Carletti, 'Iscrizioni murali', in // santuario di San Michele sul Gargano dal VI al IX secolo, ed. C. Carletti and G. Otranto (Bari, 1980), pp. 7-180; M. G. Arcamone, 'Antroponimia altomedievale sulla iscrizioni murali', in ibid., pp. 255-317; R. Delrolez and U. Schwab, 'The Runic Inscriptions of Monte Sant' Angelo (Gargano)', Academiae analecta: medelingen van de Koninklijke Academic voor Wetenschappen, Letteren en Schone Kunsten in Belgie. klasse der letteren, 45 (Brussels, !983)5 95-130. On St Michael's cult in Lombard Italy more generally see Mara and Spadafora, 'Michele', cols 421, 423-5; Harrison, 'Duke and Archangel', esp. pp. 13-21; A. Petrucci, 'Origine e diffusione del culto di San-Michele nell' Italia medievale', in Millenaire monastique du Mont-Saint-Michel, iii, Culte de Saint Michel et pelerinages au Mont, ed. M. Baudot (Paris, 1971), pp. 339~54, esp. pp. 340-7. 58 Carletti, 'Iscrizione murali', nos 44, 82 (pp. 64-5, 90-1); Delrolez and Schwab, 'Runic Inscriptions', 100-3. 59 Paul the Deacon, Historia Langobardum, iv. 46 (p. 135). 60 'Nam octavo Ydus Maias, quo beati Michaelis archangeli sollempnia nos sollempniter celebramus quo etiam die priscis temporibus a Beneventanorum populis Neapolites fortiter caesos legimus . . .': Erchempertus, Historia Langobardorum Beneventarum, ed. Waitz et al., MGH, Script, rer. Lang. cap. 27 (p. 244). See also below, p. 13 (at nn. 73-4)61 M. Cagiano de Azevedo, 'Memorie della vittoria sul Gargano e il culto di San Michele a Milano', in // santuario, pp. 501-12; Mara and Spadafora, 'Michele', cols 423-562 Petrucci, 'Origine e diffusione', p. 346; G. P. Bognetti, 'I Loca sanctorum e la storia della chiesa nel regno dei Longobardi', Rivista di storia della chiesa in Italia, 6 (1952), 165-204, esp. 195. Cf. Paul the Deacon, Historia Langobardum, v. 3, vi. 51 (pp. 145, 183); MGH, Script, rer. Lang., p. 161 n. i. 63 Although first mentioned in 774, a seventh-century altar found at the site suggests that the sanctuary was considerably older: M. G. Mara, 'Contribute allo studio del culto di San Michele nel Lazio', Archivio della societa romana di storia patria, 73 (1960), 269-90; Mara and Spadafora, 'Michele', col. 421.

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Cunincpert, the cult had gained such prestige that the image of St Michael appeared on the reverse of Lombardic gold coins, a remarkable innovation (perhaps in imitation of Byzantine precedents)64 which continued, except for a brief period in the 7405, until the fall of the kingdom in 774.65 By Cunincpert's time, too, according to Paul the Deacon, St Michael's image was displayed by the Lombard army when ready for battle, and the saint was invoked in oaths of loyalty to Lombard kings.66 The monarchy's attachment to the cult continued until the very end. A remembrance of the family's devotion perhaps colours the chronicle of Novalesa's rather doubtful story of the doomed King Desiderius's nocturnal visit in 774 to the church of San Michele Maggiore in his beleaguered refuge at Pavia; more certainly, the epitaph of his wife, Queen Ansa, celebrated her construction of hostels for pilgrims on the way to Monte Gargano.67 The Beneventan dukes' continued investment in the shrine at Monte Gargano is also evidenced by at least one inscription, on the rulers' pillar there, commemorating a visit by Duke Romoald II (c. 706-731/2), and his first wife Gunperga.68 Royal pilgrimages to Monte Gargano were evidently commonplace; they were, at least, sufficiently unremarkable to provide the pretext for a meeting which Adelperga, daughter of Desiderius and wife of Duke Arichis II (758-87), planned with her brother upon his return from exile in 788.69 From the later eighth century, however, the rulers of Benevento also exhibited a taste for the P. Grierson and M. Blackburn, Medieval European Coinage, i, The Early Middle Ages (Cambridge, 1986), pp. 64-5. The image perhaps originated in an adaptation of the winged Victory (derived from Late Antique coins) which appears on early and midseventh-century Lombardic gold coinage: ILongobardi (Milan, 1987), pp. 166-8 (nos iv, 11-12, 15, 17, 20-1). I am grateful to Dr Geoffrey West for these points and, more generally, for much helpful advice on coinage in early medieval Italy, splendidly surveyed in ch. 5 of his unpublished thesis, 'Studies in Representations and Perceptions of the Carolingians in Italy, 774-875' (Univ. of London, Ph.D. thesis, 1998), pp. 165-210. 65 Grierson and Blackburn, Medieval European Coinage, p. 65. 66 See the story of Duke Alahis of Trento refusing to fight Cunincpert 'quia inter contos suos, sancti archangeli Michaelis, ubi ego illi iuravi, imaginem conspicio': Paul the Deacon, Historia Langobardum, v. 41 (pp. 160-1). An alterative reading would be that Alahis saw a vision of the archangel 'among the spears' of Cunincpert's warriors: Grierson and Blackburn, Medieval European Coinage, p. 64. 67 Petrucci, 'Origine e diffusione', p. 346; Cronaca di Novalesa, ed. G. C. Alessio (Turin, 1982), iii. 14 (p. 157); Epitaphium Ansae Reginae, ed. Bethmann and Waitz, MGH, Script, rer. Lang., p. 192. 68 Carletti, 'Iscrizione murali', no. 52 (pp. 69-70); Delrolez and Schwab, 'Runic Inscriptions', pp. 103-5. Rather oddly, the inscription invokes the protection of the Archangel Gabriel for the royal couple. 69 Delrolez and Schwab, 'Runic Inscriptions', 108, quoting T. Hodgkin, Italy and Her Invaders (8 vols, Rome, 1892-9), viii. 60-83, at p. 75; Codex Carolini, ed. W. Gundlach, MGH, Epistolae III: Epistolae Merovingici et Carolingici aevi I, p. 613. 64

Peculiaris Patronus Noster

13

adoption of new dynastic patrons. Particularly interesting is the case of Arichis II, who in 760 caused a group of twelve martyrs, supposedly brothers, to be translated from their various burial places in southern Italy and enshrined in his new church of Santa Sophia. A fantastic passio, compiled to commemorate these events, termed the martyrs the duces and patroni of the Beneventans.70 In 768 Arichis complemented this activity with further translations, most notably that of the martyr Mercurius, wishfully identified with the Byzantine military saint Mercurius of Caesarea in Cappadocia. Mercurius joined his twelve 'brethren' in the church of Santa Sophia. In the texts commemorating this event, which derive from a late eighth- or ninth-century original, Mercurius was explicitly described as patronus Beneventani populi and protector of the city, lordship and people of Benevento.71 Such initiatives raise the question of the Beneventan rulers' attitude to the cult of the archangel. No duke or prince is commemorated on the rulers' pillar after Romoald II. Moreover, although Arichis II married into the royal house, then especially devoted to Michael, he was clearly at the very least anxious to supplement the archangel's cult with that of other local saints. Even so, his wife Adelperga continued to promote the cult, and in the neighbouring duchy of Spoleto, the Lombard ruler, Hildebrand also acted as a sponsor, in 774 granting the sanctuary at Tancia to the great monastery of Farfa, with which he had strong links and which thereafter seems to have protected the shrine.72 It was in this period too that the feast of 8 May, commemorating the archangel's appearances on Monte Gargano, gained wide acceptance. This feast is distinct from both the ancient Roman one (29 September), which commemorated the dedication of the church on the Via Salaria, and those which honoured the saint in Byzantium: 8 November (the synaxis ton Asomaton, feast of the Incorporeal Beings) and 6 September (the miracle performed by Michael at Chonai).73 There is no liturgical evidence for the Garganican feast until at least the late eighth century and probably not until the early ninth, when it starts to feature in the calendars (spreading thereafter quite rapidly). It may be too that the Liber de apparitione was put together at that time.74 Translatio duodecim martyrum, ed. Waitz et al.} MGH, Script, rer. Lang. (Hanover, 1878), pp. 574-6; H. Belting, 'Studien zum Beneventanischen Hof im 8. Jahrhundert', Dumbarton Oaks Papers, 16 (1962), 141-93, esp. 156-7. 71 Translatio Sancti Mercurii, ed. Waitz et al., MGH, Script, rer. Lang., pp. 576-80; Belting, 'Studien zum Beneventanischen Hof, pp. 157-9. 72 Mara, 'Contributo allo studio del culto', p. 270. 73 Mara and Spadafora, 'Michele', cols 423-5; Oxford Dictionary of Byzantium, ed. A. P. Kazhdan et al. (3 vols, Oxford, 1991), i. 209-10, 427; ii. 1360. 74 G. Otranto, 'II Liber de apparitione e il culto di San Michele sul Gargano nella documentazione liturgica altomedievale', Vetera Christianorum, 18 (1981), 423-42, esp. at 429-42. 70

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The Medieval State

The latter's appearance, and the enhanced commemoration of a feast linking Michael with his Beneventan sanctuary and marking his assistance to the Lombards in battle, suggest a resurgence of princely interest in the cult. With the disappearance of the Lombard monarchy, it had perhaps become a particularly potent symbol of Lombard identity. Similar attitudes may have prompted the commemoration of the archangel in image or circumscription on the Beneventan coinage of Grimoald IV (806-17), Sico (817-32), Siconulph (839-49) and Adelchis II (858-78). The use of the coinage at that time as a vehicle for ideological statement is well illustrated by the intruder Siconulph's expression of his claim to be legitimate prince of Benevento through the issue of denarii with the circumscription princesbenebenti sicono on the obverse. The fact that the reverse of these coins was inscribed arhangelvmihae (Archangel Michael) suggests that the cult had a part to play in the process of legitimation.75 The continuing interest in St Michael was evidently compatible with a search for fresh patrons. In the early ninth century the princes Sico and Sicarius stole the remains of St Januarius, patron of the city of Naples, and installed them in their own cathedral at Benevento. Thereafter Januarius was invoked as the especial protector of the ruling family.76 Finally, in 838 the duchy acquired its first truly apostolic remains, with the translation to Benevento of the relics of St Bartholomew from the island of Lipari and their eventual enshrinement in a church next to the cathedral.77 The Italian evidence, then, complements that from Frankia. It suggests that from an early date Lombard rulers had a highly developed sense of the usefulness of presenting favoured saints as patrons not just of the royal house, but of the entire gens or political community, an attitude perhaps encouraged by the fact that in theory at least the Lombard monarchy was elective and not confined to a particular dynasty.773 The supralocal patrons thus favoured had a number of distinguishing characteristics. They were not drawn from the ruling families themselves and were generally either universal figures with strong local associations, or early martyrs who had suffered locally in the persecutions. In most cases they acquired important new characteristics in the service of their royal impresarios. The Lombard rulers, for 75 / Longobardi (Milan, 1987), pp. 174-7 (nos iv. 40-2, 56); West, 'Studies in Representations', p. 185. I am grateful to Dr West for these references. On Siconulph see Erchempertus, Hist. Lang. Ben., cc. 12, 14-23 (pp. 239-43). 76 Belting, 'Studien zum Beneventanischen Hof, pp. 160-1; Chronicon Salemitanum, ed. U. Westerbergh (Stockholm, 1956), cap. 57 (pp. 57-8). 77 Belting, 'Studien zum Beventanischen Hof, 161-2. 77a Reinhard Schneider, Konigswahl und Konigserhebung in Fruhmittelalter: Untersuchungen zum Herrschaftsnachfolge bei die Langobarden und Merovingen (Stuttgart, 1972).

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example, effectively recreated the cult of St Michael to answer to their own needs and expectations, with a feast which highlighted the saint's local appearances, and with a strong emphasis on his military attributes. Arichis II likewise had a comprehensible agenda in his promotion of new cults in Benevento. The linking together of twelve local martyrs was clearly intended to endow his principality with sanctified Christian founders as authoritative and authenticating in their limited sphere as Christ's own apostles were universally. The adoption of Mercurius, transformed into a soldier saint, was obviously also expedient. These new patrons were intended to be attractive to churchmen and soldiers alike. As in Frankia, we lack the evidence to assess the degree to which the ordinary people identified with those thus offered to them as their state protectors. All that can be said is that all the saints considered had prominent cult sites, and that one, St Michael in Benevento, certainly attracted widespread veneration throughout the Lombard states in the later seventh and eighth centuries; his cult at least would have been a plausible vehicle for the encouragement of solidarity and coherence among the subjects of the rulers who promoted it. Royal expenditure on building pilgrim hostels, themselves institutions likely to foster such sentiments, illustrates one way of using the cult to enhance the monarchy's image. The widespread adoption of the feast of the apparition on the 8 May also suggests that the cult had some impact outside the governing elite. In Italy and France, then, in the seventh, eighth and ninth centuries, certain saints were undoubtedly promoted by rulers as, for want of a better phrase, 'patrons of the state', their images publicly displayed on coinage, shields or standards, their cult sites enhanced with impressive buildings and shrines and approached along routes furnished with pilgrim xenodochia. Some undoubtedly enjoyed popular success, and in those instances we may conclude that devotion to the saint, with his carefully crafted image, contributed to the prestige and encouraged the cohesion of the state with he was associated. The church co-operated actively in this process, at the cult sites and in the liturgy and associated events, in which not just the saint but the local ruler might be commemorated. This balance of interest between church, cult site, and ruler meant that royal dynastic saints were rarely chosen per se as state patrons. Such cults were not exclusive. There seems to have been little idea of a single patron of state or gens. Although Dagobert adopted Denis as his peculiar patron, he continued to honour Martin. Both saints appeared inter alios as special patrons of the army in the Carolingian royal laudes. Similarly in Benevento, when the late eighth- and early ninth-century

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The Medieval State

dukes promoted new cults as patrons of the duchy, they did not abandon Michael. To discard or arouse the jealousy of such powerful and capricious figures would be dangerous. The art lay in cultivating a sufficiency of influential brokers at the court of the heavenly ruler. How does England fit into these developments? Before the tenth century there were few comparable cults. Perhaps the closest analogue is that of St Cuthbert (d. 687), based at Lindisfarne in Northumbria, one of the relatively few pre-Viking English kingdoms that could be characterized as a state. Cuthbert, a holy ascetic, was prior and then bishop at the monastery which had initiated the conversion of the still largely pagan local people.78 I have argued elsewhere that his cult was in many ways modelled upon that of the Prankish Martin, that the monastic guardians of his shrine presented him as a focus for the loyalty of the Northumbrian gens as a whole, and as the special protector of the dynasty which ruled the two provinciae (formerly kingdoms) into which it was divided.79 Interestingly, Bede in his metrical Life of Cuthbert includes the saint in a somewhat eccentric list of holy patrons of peoples or places, comprising Peter and Paul (Rome), John the Evangelist (Asia), Bartholomew (India), Mark (Egypt), Cyprian (Africa), Hilary (Poitiers) and Chrysostom (Constantinople). Cuthbert, who comes at the end, is associated with Britannia and the Angli.80 Cuthbert's cult was relatively successful at an early date. There is evidence that the Northumbrian kings, whose base was in the northern provincia of Bernicia promoted it in the heartlands of southern Deira, in and around York.81 In his poem on the saints of York Alcuin devotes disproportionate space to Cuthbert, who was after all only tenuously connected with that see, and both there and in his letters it is plain that he regarded him as the leading saint of Northumbria and indeed (like Bede) of Britain.82 Cuthbert's standing is also evidenced by the fact that in the late eighth century he became joint titular of a church built to commemorate the murder of King ^Elfwald (779-88) at Scythlescester 78 Two Lives ofSt Cuthbert, ed. B. Colgrave (Cambridge, 1940); Bede, Historia ecclesiastica, ed. B. Colgrave and R. A. B. Mynors (Oxford, 1969, rev. edn, 1991), iii. 28, iv. 3 (pp. 316, 336-46). 79 Alan Thacker, 'Bede's Ideal of Reform', in Ideal and Reality, pp. 130-53, esp. pp. 146-50; idem, 'The Social and Continental Background to Early English Hagiography' (Univ. of Oxford, D.Phil, thesis, 1978), esp. pp. 124-6. 80 Bede, Vita Sancti Cuthberti metrica, ed. W. Jaager, Palaestra, 198 (Leipzig, 1935), lines 11-29 (pp. 59-60). For discussion of the absence of Martin from that list see Thacker, 'Social and Continental Background', pp. 122-7, and contra: Godman, in Alcuin, Bishops, Kings and Saints of York, ed. P. Godman (Oxford, 1983), p. liii n. 3. 81 See esp. Thacker, 'Social and Continental Background', pp. 136-9. 82 Alcuin, Bishops, Saints and Kings, lines 646-750 (pp. 54-62); idem, Epistolae, in MGH, Epistolae, iv, ed. E. Dummler (Berlin, 1895), esp. nos 16, 20 (pp. 42, 57). Cf. Godman, Bishops, Kings and Saints, pp. lii-liii, where he dissents from my view that Cuthbert's cult was modelled on Martin's at Tours.

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near the Roman wall; in England such honours had hitherto usually been reserved for 'universal' saints.83 No other pre-Viking kingdom produced a saint comparable to Cuthbert. The figure who comes nearest is perhaps Chad (d. 672), first bishop of Lichfield.84 Chad, who is titular of a number of early episcopal churches in the west midlands, clearly became patron of his see,85 but we are not well informed about his significance for the kings of Mercia.86 The fact is that in general early Anglo-Saxon episcopal cults were less impressive than those of contemporary Frankia. More notable, both in number and significance, were royal cults, including (very unusually for the Latin West) those of kings. Indeed, in many ways it is a king who provides perhaps the nearest analogue to Cuthbert. The cult of the Northumbrian Oswald (d. 642) - significantly, Cuthbert's co-dedicatee at Scythlecester - was royally sponsored and, apparently, genuinely popular. Yet although his reputation was diffused remarkably quickly through much of England and beyond, and although (as I have argued elsewhere) the initial suspicions of the church were overcome, Oswald never quite made it as a patron of the Northumbrian state. The clergy, the crucial impresarios, could never commit themselves as unreservedly to a king as to a bishop.87 There is, however, one other saint who has a genuine claim to be the first patron of the English. The early devotion to Pope Gregory the Great (d. 604) in England has been recently analysed by the present author, and it is proposed only to summarize the arguments here.88 Though he was admired and perhaps venerated by a relatively restricted and learned group of monks and disciples in the early seventh century, Gregory's cult only really took off in Rome in the 68os. Its earliest effective expression was in England, and was almost certainly the work of Theodore of Tarsus (d. 690), a Cilician outsider nominated to the see of Canterbury by the pope in 669 when the English bishopelect died in Rome. Theodore, who in 679 styled himself 'archbishop of W. Levison, England and the Continent in the Eighth Century (Oxford, 1946), p. 265. Bede, HE, iii. 28; iv. 3 (pp. 316, 336-46). 85 Alan Thacker, 'Anglo-Saxon Cheshire', in Victoria History of Cheshire, i, ed. B. E. Harris and A. T. Thacker (Oxford, 1987), pp. 269-71. 86 For the late ninth- or early tenth-century vernacular Life see R. Vleeskruyer, The Life ofSt Chad: An Old English Homily (Amsterdam, 1953); Janet Bateley, 'Old English Prose Before and During the Reign of Alfred', Anglo-Saxon England, 17 (1988), 93-138, at 104-18. 87 Alan Thacker, 'Membra Disjecta: The Division of the Body and the Diffusion of the Cult', in Oswald: Northumbrian King to European Saint, ed. Clare Stancliffe and Eric Cambridge (Stamford, 1995), pp. 97-127. 88 Alan Thacker, 'Memorializing Gregory the Great: The Origin and Transmission of a Papal Cult in the Seventh and Early Eighth Centuries', Early Medieval Europe, 7 (1998), 59-84> esp. 75-8, 80-4. 83

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the island of Britain' (archiepiscopus Brittaniae insulate),89 seems to have taken essentially an eastern approach to his authority in England, regarding his office as superior to that of a metropolitan and similar to the headship of a modern 'autocephalous' Orthodox church.90 In tandem with these views, he derived his authority not from Augustine, founding bishop of Canterbury, but from Gregory, successor to the Roman apostles and evangelist of the English as a whole. This approach led to the exaltation of Gregory as founder of the English mission and endowed him with a novel style, 'apostle of the English'. It emancipated Theodore from a power base localized at Canterbury and assisted him in his dealings with English rulers north as well as south of the Humber. Actively disseminated at the archbishop's school at Canterbury, it was repeated by the archbishop's pupils, including Aldhelm (d. 709) in Wessex and perhaps Oftfor (fl. 6905) in Worcester and John of Beverley (d. 721) in York.91 In particular, it informed the earliest Life of the pope, written c. 700 at Whitby, a community with which Theodore had close links and which was the centre of an active Gregorian cult.92 The anonymous author of that Life made great play with Gregory's apostolic status and defined his role in terms of responsibility for the conversion of a people (gens} or region (provincid). He (or she) explicitly characterized Gregory as apostle of the English, but never fully explained who was included under the latter designation.93 The theme was, of course, more fully and persuasively developed by Bede, in his Ecclesiastical History, expressly devoted to the unitary gens Anglorum and to the depiction of Gregory as its spiritual father.94 In the late seventh and earlier eighth century, Gregory's cult was certainly promoted by senior clergy in the important churches of Canterbury, York and Whitby, in all of which he was titular of a chapel or altar, and probably also at Worcester, which seems to have possessed a version of the anonymous Life.95 From the mid-eighth century, however, the pope shared his status as founding father of the English church with his envoy Augustine: in 747 the council of Clofeshoh Bede, HE, iv. 17 (p. 384); Wormald, 'Bede, the Bretwaldas and Origins', in Ideal and Reality, pp. 99-129, esp. 120-9. 90 See Works of Joseph Bingham, ed. R. Bingham (10 vols, Oxford, 1855), i. 94, 171, 201-3, 206-7; Isidore, Etymologiae, ed. W. Lindsay (2 vols, Oxford, 1911), Vll.xii. 6-10 (p. 299). 91 Aldhelm, De virginitate, ed. R. Ehwald, MGH, Auct. Ant. XV (Berlin, 1919), cc. 42, 55 (PP- 293, 3i4)j Bede, HE, iv. 12, 25; v. 3 (pp. 370, 408, 460). 92 The Earliest Life of Gregory the Great, ed. B. Colgrave (Kansas, 1968), esp. c. 19 (p. 104). 93 E.g. Earliest Life, cc. 4-6, 28, 30 (pp. 78-84, 124, 132-4). 94 Bede, HE, ii. I (pp. 122-34); Wormald, 'Bede, the Bretwaldas and Origins', pp. 120-3. 95 For this complex material see esp. Thacker, 'Memorializing Gregory', pp. 67-9, 75. 89

Peculiaris Patronus Noster

19

required that the feasts of both saints be generally observed throughout England south of the Humber.96 This change appears to correspond with changes in the position of Theodore's successors, who since the early 7305 had been confronted by a northern metropolitan in the princely personage of Ecgberht, archbishop of York and brother of King Eadberht (737-757/8) ,97 Having perforce to abandon Theodore's pretensions to jurisdiction over the whole of Britannia, they came to focus once again on Canterbury and Augustine, its principal local saint. In so doing, they threw into high relief a cardinal weakness of the Gregorian cult in England - its lack of the supreme focus of a tomb and corporeal remains (or even a miracle-working sanctuary) and consequent dependence upon secondary relics enclosed in altars.98 In England Gregory could have no popular following, no grateful clients whose petitions had been answered in the dramatic environs of a shrine-sepulchre. His was primarily a liturgical cult fostered by a clerical elite. In the ninth century, then, England had at least one saint, Cuthbert of Lindisfarne, not unlike the Prankish and Italian saints discussed above, and still the dominant patron of the once-powerful kingdom of Northumbria." The English church also venerated a non-local patron in the person of Gregory the Great, whose anomalous cult had come to transcend English political divisions. These were the principal resources for fashioning a state cult available to Alfred (871-99), in the new circumstances in which he found himself after the capture of London in 886, when he could increasingly claim to be leader of all the English outside the Danelaw, 'king of the Anglo-Saxons'.100 Clearly 'state cults' of the kind that, it has been argued, existed in contemporary or near contemporary France and Italy, would have offered Alfred valuable ideological underpinning in what was a period of reconstruction, even of state-building. There can, moreover, be little doubt that cults such those of Sts Denis and Michael of Monte Gargano were known to Alfred and his contemporaries. The fame of the Areopagite brought the Parisian cult to English attention in the ninth century and there seems Council of Clofeshoh, cap. 17, in A. W. Haddan and W. Stubbs, Councils and Ecclesiastical Documents Relating to Great Britain and Ireland (3 vols, Oxford, 1869—78), iii. 368. 97 Venerabilis Baedae opera historica, ed. C. Plummer (2 vols, Oxford, 1896), i. 360-2, 405-23; ii. 378-9. 98 Hence his English biographer's remarkable claim that miracles are not unique and particular to a single individual but a common manifestation in all the saints: Earliest Life, cap. 30 (pp. 128-34). 99 For the vicissitudes of the community and relics of St Cuthbert after the departure from Lindisfarne see C. F. Battiscombe, 'Introduction', in The Relics of St Cuthbert (Oxford, 1956), pp. 1-114, esp. pp. 25-40; St Cuthbert: His Cult and His Community, ed. Gerald Bonner, David Rollason, and Clare Stancliffe (Woodbridge, 1989), pp. 367-467. 100 Alfred the Great, ed. Simon Keynes and Michael Lapidge (London, 1983), pp. 38-9. 96

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The Medieval State

to have been a long history of English links with the Beneventan sanctuary.101 Interestingly, too, Michael had royal associations for Alcuin, who addressed a sequence in his honour to Charlemagne.102 Both cults were included in the Old English Martyrology, a text which very probably dates from the reign of Alfred himself.103 Oddly enough, there were no obvious West Saxon candidates for he role of state patron. The early West Saxon kings were never closely associated with any dominant saint. Indeed, pre-Alfredian Wessex threw up few notable cults of any description; there were few distinguished holy bishops,104 and even fewer royal saints (in marked contrast to Mercia, Kent and Northumbria).105 In such circumstances the 'pan-English' cult of Gregory had an obvious attraction. In fact, there is quite a lot of evidence that Gregory enjoyed a particularly high reputation among clerical and court circles in late ninthcentury England. The Old English Martyrology, for example, declared: 'he is our father . . . he is our foster-father in Christ and we are his children in baptism'.106 Alfred's personal regard is reflected in the extent to which the pope's writings feature in the translations of his reign - most notably, of course, the Pastoral Care., rendered into English by Alfred himself, and the Dialogues, ascribed to Bishop Waerferth of Worcester.107 In the verse preface to the former Alfred bestowed high praise on its author, 'the Lord's champion, . . . this greatest of Romans, most gifted of men, most celebrated for his glorious deeds'.108 Gregory also received honourable mention alongside Augustine and Jerome in the king's preface to his translation of Augustine's Soliloquies.,109 and in 101

Delrolez and Schwab, 'Runic Inscriptions', 95-130. Alcuin, Carmina, pp. 348-9. 103 Alfred the Great, ed. Keynes and Lapidge, p. 34, quoting Das altenglische Martyrologium, ed. G. Kotzor (2 vols, Munich, 1981), i. 243, 363-7, 400-5, 421-5, 453-4; Bateley, 'Old English Prose', pp. 95, 118. 104 Birinus of Dorchester and Haedde of Winchester are the most notable: Bede, HE, iii. 7;v. 18 (pp. 232, 512-14). 105 Barbara Yorke, Wessex in the Early Middle Ages (London, 1995), p. 208; S. Ridyard, The Royal Saints of Anglo-Saxon England (Cambridge, 1988), pp. 118-19,242-3. 106 Das altenglische Martyrologium, ed. Kotzor, ii. 32; trans. An Old English Martyrology, ed. G. Herzfeld, Early English Text Society, old series, 116 (London, 1900), p. 39. 107 King Alfred's West-Saxon Version of Gregory's Pastoral Care, ed. H. Sweet, Early English Text Society, old series, 45, 50 (Oxford, 1871); Bischofs Waerferth von Worcester Ubersetzung der Dialoge Gregors des Grossen, ed. H. Hecht (Leipzig, 1900); Bateley, 'Old English Prose', pp. 95, 103; M. Godden, 'Waerferth and King Alfred: The Fate of the Old English Dialogues', in Alfred the Wise, pp. 35-51; Alfred the Great, ed. Keynes and Lapidge, p. 29; Asser, VitaAlfredi, ed. W. H. Stevenson (Oxford, 1904), cap. 77 (p. 62). IDS Verse preface to the Pastoral Care, trans. Keynes and Lapidge, Alfred the Great, pp. 126-7. 109 T. A. Carnicelli, King Alfred's Version of St Augustine's Soliloquies (Harvard, 1969), p. 47; Alfred the Great, ed. Keynes and Lapidge, p. 138. 102

Peculiaris Patronus Noster

21

a work known at Worcester as Alfred's Dicta, which seems to have comprised the Soliloquies and other texts, including perhaps the Whitby Vita or at least materials relating to the pope's life.110 Worcester, then, fostered Gregory's cult in Alfred's reign and revived interest in the Whitby Life, with its strong emphasis on Gregory's apostolic status.111 That these preoccupations had a wider currency in Alfredian England is perhaps suggested by the letter which Archbishop Fulk of Reims sent to Alfred c. 890, in which he alluded to 'Augustine, first bishop of your gens, sent to you by your apostle, the blessed Gregory'.112 We have already seen that the see of Reims was claiming apostolic status for its first bishop, Remigius, in the later ninth century and that at Fulk's promoting Pope Formosus in the 8905 had explicitly recognized Remigius as apostle of the Franks. The archbishop had perhaps Gregory and the English in mind when promoting this enhancement of his own patron's status.113 Alfred, it has recently been suggested, was in later life increasingly drawn to philosophical and secular discourse, to 'a world of classical history and legend'.114 Harsh experience perhaps left him less sympathetic to the cult of the saints, with its confident emphasis on their continuing and frequent intervention in the natural order on behalf of their clients; certainly Asser, although he presents the king as deeply religious, makes no reference to devotion to any particular saint except for an early attachment to the otherwise unknown Gueriir.115 At all events, it was left to Alfred's immediate successors to draw the saints more fully into the service of the revived and extended West Saxon monarchy. The beginnings of such a development are already apparent in the second English coronation ordo, probably composed for Edward the Elder's coronation in 900.116 At the solemn blessing of the ruler, by then crowned and invested with sword, sceptre and rod (but not anointed), the ordo D. Whitelock, 'The Prose of Alfred's Reign', in Continuations and Beginnings, ed. E. G. Stanley (London, 1966), pp. 70-3; Thacker, 'Memorializing Gregory', pp. 67-9. 111 Cf. the inclusion of material drawn from it in the Dicta and the allusion to Gregory's 'golden mouth' in Waerferth's Dialogues: Thacker, 'Memorializing Gregory', pp. 62, 68. 112 'Augustinus . . . sanctus vestrae gentis primus episcopus, a beato Gregorio apostolo vestro directus', Councils and Synods, ed. Whitelock, Brett and Brooke, i. 6-12, at p. 8; trans. Lapidge and Keynes, Alfred the Great, pp. 182-6; D. Whitelock, English Historical Documents i (2nd edn, London, 1979), no. 223 (pp. 883-5). Nelson's earlier doubts about its authenticity, expressed in ' "A King Across the Sea": Alfred in Continental Perspective', TRHS, 5th series, 36 (1986), 48-68, at 49, have been abandoned in 'Fulk's Letter', in Alfred the Wise, pp. 135-44. 113 Nelson, 'Fulk's Letter', pp. 139-40. 114 Godden, 'Waerferth and King Alfred', pp. 48-51. 115 Asser, Life of Alfred, cc. 49, 74, 76, 104 (pp. 36-7, 54-7, 59-62, 90). 116 Janet Nelson, 'The Second English Ordo', in eadem, Politics and Ritual in Early Medieval Europe (London, 1986), pp. 361-74. 110

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The Medieval State

implores divine protection through the intercession of St Mary, St Peter and Gregory, 'apostolic saint of the English' (sanctae mariae ac bead petri apostolorum principis, sanctique gregorii aneglorum [sic] apostolici).117 While, as I have just suggested, this view of Gregory was representative of attitudes already current at Alfred's own court, the sharply focused invocation, at a crucial point in the liturgy, suggests perhaps a strengthening regard for the pope as patron of the new political order. It was, however, not Edward (899-924) but Athelstan (924-39) who displayed the greatest enthusiasm for the cult of the saints and the clearest understanding of the ways in which it could be put to the service of the new state. Athelstan had been brought up at the court of his aunt /Ethelflaed, queen of the Mercians (d. 918), who had already displayed considerable skill in the exploitation of the cults of Oswald, Werburga, Ealhmund and others in her newly established fortifications.118 But his commitment to the saints far outstripped hers. His zeal for relic collecting was remarkable even by medieval standards,119 and he also promoted specific cults; stories were told at his court, for example, about the martyred East Anglian king Edmund, already the object of widespread veneration.120 For our present purposes, however, the crucial figure is, once again, Cuthbert. By the mid-tenth century, there had developed a carefully wrought tradition that Alfred and his immediate successors had become clients and benefactors of the northern bishop, by then established at Chester-le-Street.121 This tradition, probably first recorded in the Historia de Sancto Cuthberto at Chester-le-Street before the death of Edmund I in 946,122 traces the dynasty's interest back to Alfred, said to 117 P. Ward, 'An Early Version of the Anglo-Saxon Coronation Ceremony', EHR, 57 (1942), 345-6i> at 356. 118 Alan Thacker, 'Chester and Gloucester: Early Ecclesiastical Organization in Two Mercian Burhs', Northern History, 18 (1982), 199-211, at 203-4, 209-11. 119 P. W. Conner, Anglo-Saxon Exeter (Woodbridge, 1993), pp. 171-209; D. W. Rollason, 'Relic-Cults as an Instrument of Royal Policy', Anglo-Saxon England, 15 (1986), 91-103, esp. 92-5. Athelstan's heavy investment in Exeter, which included a munificent gift of relics, may have been influenced by Althelflaed's activities at Gloucester: Conner, Anglo-Saxon Exeter, pp. 23-7, 171-209.1 owe this suggestion to Michael Wood. 120 Three Lives of English Saints, ed. M. Winterbottom (Toronto, 1972), p. 67; David Rollason, Saints and Relics in Anglo-Saxon England (Oxford, 1989), pp. 155-7. 121 The imperishable body and its guardians remained at Chester-le-Street from 883 to 995: Eric Cambridge, 'Why Did the Community of St Cuthbert Settle at Chester-leStreet?', in St Cuthbert: His Cult, pp. 367-86; Gerald Bonner, 'St Cuthbert at Chester-leStreet', ibid., pp. 387-95. 122 Historia de Sancto Cuthberto, ed. T. Arnold, Symeonis Monachi opera omnia, 2 vols, Rolls Series (London, 1882-5), i- 196-214. What follows relies heavily upon David Rollason, 'St Cuthbert and Wessex: The Evidence of Cambridge Corpus Christi College MS 183', in St Cuthbert: His Cult, pp. 413-24, and Luisella Simpson, 'The King Alfred/St Cuthbert Episode in the Historia de Sancto Cuthberto: Its Significance for MidTenth-Century English History', in ibid., pp. 397-411.

Peculiaris Patronus Noster

23

have been visited by Cuthbert in a vision and told of his and his descendants' destiny to be kings of all Britain: tu es electus rex totius Britanniae. Alfred is also reputed to have admonished his son Edward the Elder to be faithful to Cuthbert and on his deathbed to have instructed him to bestow on the saint two armlets (armillae) and a gold thurible.123 The main focus, however, is upon Athelstan. Edward, like Alfred, is said upon his deathbed to have instructed his son to honour Cuthbert above all saints, and Athelstan himself to have visited the shrine at Chester-leStreet and to have offered there a rich treasure of gifts. Athelstan is also made to commend his brother and successor Edmund (939-46) to the saint's protection and to provide for his own burial by the saint. The main section of the Historia (cc. 1-28) then concludes with the new king, Edmund, visiting the shrine.124 It is clear that some at least of these assertions have a basis in fact. In particular, as David Rollason has shown, the Historians account of Athelstan's devotion is well founded.125 There survives not only a gospel book which Athelstan gave to St Cuthbert,126 but, more importantly, a collection of hagiographical and liturgical materials relating to the cult and put together under the king's patronage in Wessex.127 The collection includes a rhyming office for St Cuthbert, a recent innovation derived from late Carolingian exemplars and probably written for use in the royal chapel. This novel liturgy appears to have spread from the royal court to several important monastic communities, including New Minster at Winchester, Worcester and Peterborough.128 All this suggests that the Cuthbertine community's presentation of their saint as patron of West Saxon imperium reflects its close links with the royal court and, almost certainly, the views of Athelstan himself. The king, recognizing the need for 'ideological validation'129 of his imperial ambitions, not only befriended the community at Chester-le-Street but also promoted Cuthbert at court and in his own southern homelands as the dynasty's special protector. It is fitting to end this account of the early patron saints of the English state with the achievements of Athelstan, often regarded as the true founder of that state. But the story does not, of course, end there. Neither Gregory nor Cuthbert ultimately prospered in their new role. One was not buried in England at all, the other lay too far from the heartlands of the new English monarchy. In the end Athelstan was too 123 124 125 126 127 128 129

Historia de Sancto Cuthberto, cc. 15-19 (pp. 204-7). Idem, cc. 25-8 (pp. 210-12). Rollason, 'St Cuthbert and Wessex', pp. 413-24. BL, Cotton MS Otho B.IX. Cambridge, Corpus Christ! College, MS 183. Rollason, 'St Cuthbert and Wessex', pp. 417-18. The phrase is used by Simpson, 'King Alfred/St Cuthbert', p. 404.

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The Medieval State

conservative. Perhaps because there was so little to build on, he shrank from bringing forward a major new cult to serve alongside Cuthbert in the south.130 Eventually other saints were promoted to fill the vacuum. Cnut, for example, ordered that the feast days of King Edward the Martyr and Archbishop Dunstan be observed throughout England.131 Although the matter remained unresolved at the Conquest, by then the foundations had been long laid for the role that was soon to be awarded to Edward the Confessor and ultimately to St George. 130

A new attitude towards dynastic saints can, however, be observed shortly after his death with the cult at Shaftesbury of Athelstan's sister-in-law, ^Elfgifu (d. 944), queen of Edmund I: Rollason, Saints and Relics, pp. 137-8. 131 Die Gezetze der Angelsachsen, ed. F. Liebermann (3 vols, Halle, 1903-1916), i. 298-9; Patrick Wormald, '^Ethelred the Lawmaker', in Ethelred the Unready: Papers from the Millenary Conference, ed. D. Hill, BAR, British Series, 59 (Oxford, 1978), pp. 53-4.

2 Two Frontier States: Northumbria and Wessex, c. 650-750 J. R. MADDICOTT

It is significant that after the death of Redwald no southern or eastern kingdom was supreme. Dominance went to the frontier states of Northumbria, Mercia and Wessex. It probably had much to do with the conquests they made at British expense . . . Rulers making such conquests had lands to give, slaves to sell, and (possibly) minerals to exploit. The dynamics of power in early England are likely to have been such as to ensure that these advantages enabled them to gather armed power sufficient to dominate their neighbours to the south and east.l With characteristic vigour and originality, James Campbell here provides an explanation for the shifting balance between the states of the heptarchy, and in doing so identifies a pattern which underlay their relationships. Yet, for all its cogency, the argument rests more firmly on intuition than on evidence, and its exponent would be the last person to wish it to remain unquestioned. What follows takes the experience of two of these frontier provinces, Northumbria and Wessex, and assesses the contribution of their locations to the prosperity, political and economic, which each in turn enjoyed. In a short essay it is possible to provide only a broad hypothesis about a complicated subject. It may nevertheless suffice to show that there were significant differences in the evolution of such states, with contrasts as much in evidence as comparisons. The Northumbrian state grew most rapidly between c. 600 and 685, making gains beyond its heartlands which were not to be lost for centuries. Its effective founder, ALthelfrith of Bernicia (d. 616), not only united his native kingdom with that of Deira, but defeated the Irish of Dalriada, in western Scotland, and absorbed extensive (though unlocatable) British territory.2 Between 635 and 670 /Ethelfrith's sons, Oswald and Oswiu, resumed the momentum of their father's conquests after its Anglo-Saxons, ed. Campbell et al., p. 54. Bede's Ecclesiastical History of the English People, ed. B. Colgrave and R. A. B. Mynors (Oxford, 1969) (henceforward Bede), bk i, ch. 34 (p. 117). 1

2

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The Medieval State

interruption under the Deiran king Edwin. In 638 the Northumbrians captured the British fortress of Edinburgh, establishing their frontier on the Forth, where it bounded the territory of the Picts.3 Their power soon extended further northwards, for Bede states that either Oswald or Oswiu ruled over the Picts and that around 670 Wilfrid was bishop for Oswiu's Pictish subjects. By the 68os Northumbrian overlordship had also taken in the Irish of Dalriada, the British of Strathclyde and, increasingly, their southern cousins in the former British kingdom of Rheged, around the Solway. After the Pictish victory over Ecgfrith of Northumbria at Nechtansmere in 685 much of this territory was abandoned, as the Picts, the Dalriadic Irish and the Strathclyde Britons regained their independence.4 But even then the Northumbrians' northern frontier continued to lie along the now exposed line of the Forth and, in the west, to expand along the Solway, reaching the major port and ecclesiastical settlement of Whithorn by about 700.5 At its greatest extent, therefore, the Northumbrian empire may have comprised rather more than a third of modern Scotland. Despite Nechtansmere, much of this territory, in Lothian and Rheged, was retained until the tenth century. It is one of the paradoxes of any comparison between Northumbria and Wessex that the expansion of Wessex was to be more permanent but, as we shall see, less immediately profitable. The West Saxon Drang nach Westen gathered pace a generation after the start of Northumbria's aggrandisement. It was first signalled in 658 by Cenwealh's victory over the Britons at Peonnum: probably Penselwood on the Somerset-Wiltshire border, possibly Perm Hill, near Yeovil. The subsequent flight of the Britons as far as the River Parrett, in west Somerset, seems to have opened up much of Somerset to West Saxon occupation. Other later battles, under Cenwealh, Centwine and Ine, who fought against Geraint, king of Dumnonia (Devon and Cornwall) in 710, suggest that expansion owed as much to purposeful king-led aggression as to the more private initiatives of migrants and settlers.6 Its progress was marked by land grants, 3

Ibid., i. I (p. 21); K. H. Jackson, 'Edinburgh and the Anglian Occupation of Lothian', in The Anglo-Saxons, ed. P. Clemoes (London, 1969), pp. 35-42. 4 Bede, ii. 5 (p. 151), iii. 6 (p. 231), iv. 3 (p. 337), 26 (p. 429)5 J. Campbell, 'Elements in the Background to the Life of St Cuthbert and His Early Cult', in St Cuthbert, His Cult and His Community to AD 1200, ed. G. Bonner, D. Rollason and C. Stancliffe (Woodbridge, 1989)3 p. 4; D. P. Kirby, The Earliest English Kings (London, 1991), pp. 84-5. 5 P. H. Blair, 'The Bernicians and their Northern Frontier', in Studies in Early British History, ed. N. K. Chadwick (Cambridge, 1954), pp. 171-2; P. Hill, Whithom and St Ninian (Stroud, 1997), pp. 16-18, 37; R. Cramp, Whithom and the Northumbrian Expansion Westwards (Whithorn, 1995). 6 The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, ed. D. Whitelock (London, 1961), pp. 21, 26; M. Todd, The South-West to AD 1000 (Harlow, 1987), pp. 272-4; B. Yorke, Wessex in the Early Middle Ages (London, 1995), pp. 52-3.

Two Frontier States: Northumbria and Wessex, c. 650-750

27

evidence unavailable in the far north. By 682 C entwine was granting to Glastonbury estates around Taunton, well across the Parrett; by 680 there was already a monastery at Exeter, ruled by an English abbot; and by 729 King Althelheard was able to endow Glastonbury with land in the Torridge valley, in remote north-west Devon.7 It was probably about the same time that English colonists began to move into eastern Cornwall, along the Tamar.8 Though major British communities survived 'behind the lines' - for example, at Wareham and Exeter9 there was no visible British revanche and no southern Nechtansmere to reverse the invaders' advance. Northumbria and Wessex had in common not only expanding frontiers, but also the steps by which expansion was followed up. These were most obvious in the measures taken to promote the related interests of church and king in the new territories. As new lands became too extensive to be ruled from old sees, new 'frontier bishoprics' were created: Abercorn, on the Forth, in 681 for the Picts and for the British and Northumbrians of Lothian;10 Sherborne, in Dorset, in 706 for the peoples 'west of the wood' (Selwood);11 and Whithorn around 725 for the British and Northumbrians of south-west Scotland.12 In the case of Whithorn, and perhaps of Abercorn and Sherborne too, the sites chosen were those of pre-existing monasteries of British foundation, and other such monasteries may have been similarly adopted by the colonists and their kings: possibly Glastonbury in the south, to which Cenwealh, Centwine and Ine were all benefactors, and seemingly Melrose and Hoddom in the north.13 These institutions had varying H. Edwards, The Charters of the Early West Saxon Kingdom, BAR, 198 (Oxford, 1988), pp. 15-17, 63, 70; Yorke, Wessex, p. 60. 8 O. J. Padel, 'Glastonbury's Cornish Connections', in The Archaeology and History of Glastonbury Abbey, ed. L. Abrams and J. P. Carley (Woodbridge, 1991), p. 248. 9 D. A. Hinton, 'The Inscribed Stones in Lady St Mary Church, Wareham', Proceedings of the Dorset Natural History and Archaeological Society, 114 (1992), 260; H. P. R. Finberg, 'Sherborne, Glastonbury and the Expansion of Wessex', in his Lucerna (London, 1964), pp. uo-ii. 10 Bede, iv. 12 (p. 371), 26 (p. 429); C. Thomas, 'Abercorn and the Provincia Pictorum', in Between and Beyond the Walls: Essays on the Prehistory and History of North Britain in Honour of George Jobey, ed. R. Miket and C. Burgess (Edinburgh, 1984), pp. 324-3711 Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, ed. Whitelock, p. 26; Bede, v. 18 (p. 515); Aldhelm: The Prose Works, trans. M. Lapidge and M. Herren (Cambridge, 1979), p. 10. 12 Bede, v. 23 (pp. 559-61). 13 Hill, Whithorn, pp. 26-30; Thomas, 'Abercorn', pp. 331-2; K. Barker, 'The Early History of Sherborne', in The Early Church in Western Britain and Ireland: Studies Presented to C.A. Ralegh Radford, ed. S. M. Pearce, BAR, 102 (Oxford, 1982), pp. 77-85; Charters of Sherborne, ed. M. A. O'Donovan (Oxford, 1988), pp. 83-8; J. P. Carley, Glastonbury Abbey (London, 1988), pp. 2-4; Edwards, Charters, pp. 15-17, 20-34; C. Stancliffe, 'Oswald, "Most Holy and Most Victorious King of the Northumbrians" ', in Oswald: Northumbrian King to European Saint, ed. C. Stancliffe and E. Cambridge 7

28

The Medieval State

fortunes. The see of Abercorn was abandoned after Nechtansmere, that of Sherborne remained until the Norman Conquest - another reminder of how much more permanent was the West Saxon achievement than the Northumbrian. But all represented a form of settlement which contributed to the consolidation of conquest, whether lasting or transitory. So too, and in a related way, did the appropriation of important secular sites. Dunbar and Edinburgh, probable British fortresses in Lothian taken over by the Northumbrians, were not exactly matched in the south, where the great hill-forts of Cadbury Castle and Cadbury Congresbury were abandoned before the Saxons' arrival and not reoccupied.14 But British centres such as Lustleigh, in Devon, later one of King Alfred's manors, were absorbed into the West Saxon fisc.15 In both north and south the founding of new bishoprics, the cultivation of British monasteries, and the acquisition of native centres, were all a means to the transfer of power. The coincidence of method in the expansion of Northumbria and Wessex may be no more than that: a case of two kingdoms facing comparable opportunities and responding in similar ways. But developments in the new territories of the two kingdoms may also embody an element of conscious emulation, for the links between Northumbria and Wessex from c. 635 to 700 were extraordinarily close. The warp of their relationship was kinship and marriage, the weft ecclesiastical contacts. Both can be traced back to Oswald of Northumbria's partial responsibility for the conversion of Cynegisl of Wessex around 635, and his later marriage to Cynegisl's daughter.16 The subsequent evidence is too full to be set out in detail. But we might note that Cenwealh, Cynegisl's son, was on friendly terms with Ahlfrith, Oswiu's son, and used his influence to introduce Wilfrid to Ahlfrith in the 6505;17 that Cenwealh was also the close friend and benefactor of the Northumbrian Benedict Biscop, who visited him on his return from Rome in 672;18 that the wife of King Centwine of Wessex was the sister of lurminburg, second wife of Ecgfrith of Northumbria (a relationship which caused Wilfrid to be driven from the refuge he had sought and briefly found with Centwine after his expulsion from Northumbria by Ecgfrith in 678);19 and that L. Alcock, Bede, Eddius and the Forts of the North Britons ([arrow Lecture, i( pp. 14-15, 18; Jackson, 'Edinburgh', pp. 41-2; L. Alcock, Cadbury Castle, Somerset (Cardiff, 1995), pp. 151-2; below, pp. 43-4. 15 M. Swanton and S. Pearce, 'Lustleigh, South Devon: Its Inscribed Stone, its Churchyard and its Parish', in The Early Church, ed. Pearce, p. 142. 16 Bede, Hi. 7 (p. 233). 17 The Life of Bishop Wilfrid by Eddius Stephanus, ed. B. Colgrave (Cambridge, 1937), pp. 15-17. 18 'Historia Abbatum auctore Beda', in Venerabilis Baedae opera historica, ed. C. Plummer (2 vols, Oxford, 1896), i. 367. 19 Life of Bishop Wilfrid, p. 81. 14

Two Frontier States: Northumbria and Wessex., c. 650-750

29

Aldhelm of Malmesbury was both the supporter of Wilfrid in his troubles, and the friend, and possibly godfather, of King Aldfrith of Northumbria.20 It comes as no surprise to find that Pecthelm, deacon and monk with Aldhelm at Sherborne, later became the first Anglian bishop of Whithorn:21 a move from one frontier diocese to another which may have recognized that he was an old hand at dealing with Britons. The independence of distant states did not preclude a close interdependence at several different levels. In terms of power and prosperity, however, there was less conformity between the two kingdoms. Northumbria was incomparably the more powerful. The Northumbrian dominance of southern England in the mid-seventh century was hardly less marked than Bede suggests,22 and even after Nechtansmere the state remained a major and autonomous military force, defeating the Picts in 711, taking Dumbarton, the great British fortress of Strathclyde, in 756, and immune to all except occasional chevauchees from an otherwise dominant Mercia.23 In two other ways eighth-century Northumbria demonstrated an equality with, even superiority to, the greatest kingdoms to the south. First, a vigorous cultural life, obvious enough in the days of Bede, was perpetuated (if more narrowly) in the work of the school of York.24 Secondly, Northumbria maintained a good quality silver coinage, especially during the reign of Eadberht (738-57), very large in size and probably under royal (and archiepiscopal) control. In authority, volume and perhaps fineness, it outmatched, in mid-century at least, any coinage produced in the south.25 It is difficult not to see these achievements as integral and unitary: military clout, wealth and religious patronage remained as closely connected as they had been in the days of King Ecgfrith and Benedict Biscop. The dynamism which continued to be found in Northumbria was much less evident in Wessex. After Ine's abdication in 726 the kingdom was intermittently subject to intervention, territorial appropriation and direct rule by Aithelbald and Offa of Mercia. If the Tribal Hidage is indeed a Mercian tribute list, either of the seventh or the eighth century, then it must be significant that it takes in Wessex, with a very large hidage rating, but omits all Northumbria except its southernmost Ibid.; Aldhelm: The Prose Works, trans. Lapidge and Herren, pp. 168-70, 150-1, 32. Bede, v. 18 (p. 513), 23 (pp. 559-61). 22 Ibid., ii. 5 (pp. 149-51); Stancliffe, 'Oswald', pp. 55-6. 23 Kirby, Earliest English Kings, pp. 147-50; Campbell, 'Elements', pp. 6-7. 24 P. H. Blair, 'From Bede to Alcuin', in Famulus Christi, ed. G. Bonner (London, 1976), pp. 239-55; Campbell, 'Elements', p. 7. 25 P. Grierson and M. Blackburn, Medieval European Coinage, i, The Early Middle Ages (Cambridge, 1986), pp. 173, 182; D. M. Metcalf, Thrymsas and Sceattas in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford (3 vols, London, 1993-4), iii- 576-80. 20 21

30

The Medieval State

province of Elmet.26 West Saxon religious culture similarly contrasts strongly with that of Northumbria: no de luxe manuscripts, not many stone-built churches, little sculpture, few artefacts to compare with those from monastic sites in eastern and northern England.27 Unlike the achievement of Bede, that of Aldhelm appears to have been an isolated one, without a setting. Appearances may, of course, deceive. Aldhelm's description of the church at Withington in Gloucestershire, not so far from Wessex, with its glass windows, gold and silver cross, and jewelled chalice, is a reminder of how much may have been lost.28 Yet more might have been expected to survive for Wessex than for Northumbria, where the Vikings were to strike harder - we have charters for early Wessex but none for Northumbria - and the impression remains that the contrasts between the two kingdoms were real and not illusory. How can we explain them? Almost certainly not in terms of the quality of kingship, for in the eighth century kingship was an unstable institution in both states. Abdication, deposition, disputed succession, rebellion and civil war were the common methods of political argument, perhaps more frequently employed in Northumbria than in Wessex.29 Such periods of stability as there were benefited Wessex more than Northumbria; no Northumbrian king could rival Ine's thirty-seven-year rule, though Eadberht's twenty years came closest. So dynastic strife did not visibly tip the scales against power and prosperity in one kingdom more than the other. To cite the weight of an expansionist Mercia pressing more heavily on Wessex than on Northumbria as an alternative explanation is merely to restate the question; for the relative immunity of such a wealthy state from Mercian aggression is likely to have reflected Northumbrian strengths as much as Mercian policies. A more convincing answer lies in the relative economic and territorial resources of the two states, the concern of the remainder of this essay. At first sight it may seem perverse to give the palm here to Northumbria. Shut out from power in the south after its defeat by Mercia at the battle of the Trent in 679, its northern territories markedly reduced since Nechtansmere, Northumbria may seem to have been overtaken by Wessex, which continued to expand and to consolidate its own new territories in the south-west. Yet both internally and Cf. C. Hart, 'The Tribal Hidage', TRHS, 5th series, 21 (1971), 141-23, 156-7. D. Hinton, Alfred's Kingdom (London, 1977), p. 24; idem, 'The Archaeology of Eighth- to Eleventh-Century Wessex', in The Medieval Landscape of Wessex, ed. M. Aston and C. Lewis (Oxford, 1994), pp. 34-5; S. Foster, 'A Gazeteeer of the AngloSaxon Sculpture in Historic Somerset', Proceedings of the Somerset Archaeological and Natural History Society, 131 (1987), 51. 28 H. Mayr-Harting, The Coming of Christianity to Anglo-Saxon England (London, 1972), pp. 193-4. 29 Anglo-Saxons, ed. Campbell et al., pp. 114-15; Campbell, 'Elements', p. 7. 26

27

Two Frontier States: Northumbria and Wessex., c. 650-750

31

externally, at home, in the conquered lands and in what remained of those lands after 685, Northumbria enjoyed assets which Wessex appears to have lacked and which help to account for its survival as a major power. Chief among them were two resources which Northumbria possessed without recourse to empire-building: silver and cattle. Silver (and to lesser extent gold) was evidently plentiful in early Northumbria, and Bede gives us several examples of its circulation and use. He tells us, admittedly in the context of a vision story, that about 615 ^Ethelfrith of Northumbria offered large gifts of silver to Redwald of East Anglia to put to death the exiled Edwin, Aithelfrith's rival; that Oswald, Edwin's successor, possessed a silver dish for food; and that after Oswald's death his hand and arm were preserved in a silver case at Bamburgh.30 Gold and silver adorned Wilfrid's church at Ripon in the 6705, and a great silver cross and a silver-covered altar were made for Archbishop ^Lthelberht's church at York a century later.31 Apart from the prolific mid-eighth century coinage, Cuthbert's silver-cased altar and a silver plaque from Hexham are unique survivals from what was once considerable riches.32 Their raw material no doubt came in largely by way of gifts, trade and loot. But it is likely that silver was also mined locally and was a natural resource as well as an import. Silver is a by-product of lead extraction, and it is Bede again who writes of the 'rich veins of metal', including lead and silver, to be found in Britain. The occasional references to lead in our sources suggest that it was no scarce commodity in Northumbria. The ruined church at York was reroofed in lead by Bishop Wilfrid about 670; the original thatched church at Lindsifarne was similarly reroofed by Bishop Eadberht about 690; and the archaeologists have shown that lead flashing was also used for the roofs of Monkwearmouth and Jarrow.33 We cannot be sure of its origin. But there is some probability that it came from Alston, in south-east Cumberland. Lead and possibly silver had been worked there by the Romans and were worked again in the twelfth century, when the apparent rediscovery of the silver-bearing properties of the ore temporarily made this district Europe's main silver-producing Bede, ii. 12 (p. 177), iii. 6 (p. 231). Life of Bishop Wilfrid,, p. 35; Alcuin: The Bishops, Kings and Saints of York, ed. P. Godman (Oxford, 1982), p. 119. 32 E. Coatsworth, 'The Pectoral Cross and Portable Altar from the Tomb of St Cuthbert', in St Cuthbert, ed. Bonner et al., pp. 296-301; R. N. Bailey, 'The AngloSaxon Metalwork from Hexham', in St Wilfrid at Hexham, ed. D. P. Kirby (Newcastle uponTyne, 1974), pp. 155-8. 33 Bede, i. i (p. 17), iii. 25 (p. 295); Life of Bishop Wilfrid, p. 35; R. J. Cramp, 'Monastic Sites', in The Archaeology of Anglo-Saxon England, ed. D. M. Wilson (London, 1976), pp. 233, 237. 30

31

32

The Medieval State

centre.34 Bede's knowledge - that of a local man - of Britain's wealth in silver makes it not at all unlikely that this source may already have been under exploitation in the period of Northumbrian power. Cattle were a more certain and ubiquitous resource, as much the foundation of the region's pastoral economy in Bede's day as they had been in the earlier era of the Brigantes, the indigenous Iron-Age people of the north. Bede comments generally on the 'good pasturage for cattle' which Britain enjoyed, but more to our purpose is his casually specific statement that the early monks of Lindisfarne 'had no money but only cattle (nil pecuniarum absque pecoribusY ,35 Vehemently hostile though he was to ecclesiastical wealth, Bede evidently judged cattle to be so universal and customary a form of property as to be acceptable. What he implies has been confirmed by excavation. At the villa regia of Yeavering some 94 per cent of the bones found were of cattle, and the 'faunal record consistently indicates that systematic cattle-breeding was an important activity in the surrounding areas'. Those areas would have included the Lindisfarne estates, which ran close to Yeavering. At Jarrow too cattle bones vastly outnumbered those of any other quadruped.36 Seventh-century Northumbria had more in common with nineteenth-century Texas than just its frontier situation. The uses of cattle were multifarious. In the related economy of early Ireland, dominated by dairy cattle, their most workaday function was to provide milk. But they were also integral to many forms of social relationship, serving as a store of wealth, a mark of status, a bond between lord and client, and a unit of exchange.37 Wealth and status they almost certainly helped to define in Northumbria too. The great palisaded enclosure at Yeavering, predating the Germanic settlement and lasting into the seventh century, probably had among its functions the corralling of the cattle which other evidence shows to have been a regular form of rent and tribute in early medieval Northumbria.38 It I. A. Richmond, Roman Britain (3rd edn, revd. M. Todd, Harmondsworth, 1995), p. 131; N. K. Chadwick, 'The Conversion of Northumbria', in Celt and Saxon, ed. N. K. Chadwick (Cambridge, 1963), p. 159 n. 2; I. Blanchard, 'Lothian and Beyond: The Economy of the "English Empire" of David I', in Progress and Problems in Medieval England: Essays in Honour of Edward Miller, ed. R. Britnell and J. Hatcher (Cambridge, 1996), pp. 25-39. 35 Bede, i. i (p. 15), iii. 26 (p. 311). Cf. N. Higham, The Northern Counties to AD 1000 (Harlow, 1986), pp. 135-6. 36 B. Hope-Taylor, Yeavering: An Anglo-British Centre of Early Northumbria (London, I977):> PP- 325-8; B. A. Noddle, Animal Bones from Jarrow (unpublished Ancient Monuments Laboratory Report 80/87, n.d., n.p., no pagination). 37 A. T. Lucas, Cattle in Ancient Ireland (Kilkenny, 1989), passim; L. Alcock, The Neighbours of the Picts: Angles, Britons and Scots at War and at Home (Groam House Museum Trust [Rosemarkie], 1993), p. 36. 38 Hope-Taylor, Yeavering, pp. 169, 280; W. Rees, 'Survivals of Ancient Celtic Custom in Medieval England', in Angles and Bntons (Cardiff, 1963), pp. 160-2. Cf. Blanchard, 'Lothian and Beyond', p. 25. 34

Two Frontier States: Northumbria and Wessex, c. 650-750

33

gave a physical manifestation to an attribute of rulership which the invader took over from the native. The prestige of a king like Oswald was perhaps not only to be measured by the Beowulfian magnitude of his comitatus and his treasure, but also by the number of cattle - no subject for heroic poetry or ecclesiastical history - which he owned. So at least it was in Ireland. The reservoir of benefits which cattle thus represented could be tapped through the marketing of their products. That the vellum used for the making of the Codex Amiatinus and its two companion volumes in the early eighth century would have necessitated the slaughter of some 1550 calves shows not only the use of one such product but also the prodigious numbers of cattle in Bede's Northumbria and, in an unexpected way, a connection between cattle and culture.39 They were a part of the wealth which made possible the Northumbrian Renaissance. But the demand for vellum is likely to have been minute compared with that for another cattle product: hides and their derivative, leather. The plastic of the middle ages, leather had almost uncountable uses. Some of them are listed in ^Elfric's Colloquy., as applicable to the seventh and eighth centuries as to the tenth when it was written: 'various kinds of footwear, slippers and shoes, leggings and leather bottles, reins and trappings, flasks and leather vessels, spearstraps and halters, bags and purses'. ALlfric could have included the soldier's equipment too: shields, tents, sheaths and armour.40 The constant demand in all early societies for so essential a product makes it highly likely, though impossible to prove, that the export of hides contributed significantly to the Northumbrian economy. Both cattle and hides feature on our earliest tally of British exports, set down by Strabo in the first century AD. The trade cannot be more closely located, but two points are worth noting: that the best (because strongest) hides come from hilly regions where the cattle are exposed to strong winds and a wide range of temperatures; and that when we first have figures for English exports, under Edward I, Newcastle and occasionally Hull exported more hides than any other English ports.41 If this Northumbrian dominance was established early, it would indicate one way in which such 'monastic ports' as Whitby could have acquired 39

R. L. S. Bruce-Mitford, 'The Art of the Codex Amiatinus', Jarrow Lecture, 1967, reprinted from Journal of the Archaeological Association, 3rd series, 32 (1969), 2. 40 Anglo-Saxon Prose, ed. and trans. M. Swanton (London, 1975), p. 112; M. R. Nieke and H. B. Duncan, 'Dalriada: The Establishment and Maintenance of an Early Historic Kingdom in North Britain', in Power and Politics in Early Medieval Britain and Ireland, ed. S. T. Driscoll and M. R. Nieke (Edinburgh, 1988), p. 13. 41 The Geography of Strabo, trans. H. L. Jones (8 vols, London, 1923), ii. 157, 255; Encyclopaedia Brittanica (nth edn, 1911), s.v. 'leather'; J. C. Davies, 'The Wool Customs Accounts for Newcastle upon Tyne for the Reign of Edward F, Archaeologia Aeliana, 4th series, 32 (1954), 272.

34

The Medieval State

the foreign-minted sceattas found there.42 For both monks and kings, the export of hides may have been one means by which a natural resource could be turned into another form of wealth. And if it seems prima facie implausible that traders should have travelled long distances across dangerous seas for so utilitarian a commodity we might recall Richard Dana's voyage in 1835-6, described in Two Years Before the Mast: one of many thousands of miles from Boston to California, involving enormous expense and a double rounding of Cape Horn, to bring home 40,000 hides and 30,000 cows' horns.43 Even without its 'empire', then, and therefore largely without the gains in land, loot and tribute accruing from war, Northumbria was potentially a wealthy state. But its position was transformed by its expansion northwards and westwards from the early seventh century onwards. It was greatly to the kingdom's advantage that the earliest of the new territories to be acquired (and the last to be lost) was the land between the Tweed and the Forth, most of it known later as 'Lothian'. Not only was this an agriculturally prosperous and fertile region,44 but its native people, the Votadini, and their northern neighbours, the Picts, were rich in the precious metals needed by all dark-age rulers to maintain the means to generosity which was also a means to power. Raiders of Roman Britain for generations, both the Picts and the Votadini had acquired quantities of Roman silver.45 Some remained in its original form, though broken up, like the great silver hoard found at Traprain Law in East Lothian, the hillfort 'capital' of the Votadini; some was transmuted by the craftsmanship of its new owners. The ten silver chains, some of them decorated with Pictish symbols, and six of them found between Tweed and Forth, almost certainly fell into this second category. Probably symbols of power, Pictish in origin but imitated by the British, they suggest the sort of gains which may have been available to the first generation of Northumbrian conquerors and settlers.46 To judge from the many references to gold in the Gododdin, the national epic of the Votadini originally composed around 600, the Sceattas in England and on the Continent, ed. D. Hill and D. M. Metcalf, BAR, 128 (Oxford, 1984), p. 265. 43 Richard Henry Dana Jr, Two Years before the Mast (Penguin edn, Harmondsworth, 1986), esp. pp. 124, 358. 44 G. Barrow, 'Frontier and Settlement: Which Influenced Which? England and Scotland, 1100-1300', in Medieval Frontier Societies, ed. R. Bartlett and A. Mackay (Oxford, 1989), pp. 5-6. 45 Campbell, 'Elements', pp. 4-5. 46 'The Work of Angels': Masterpieces of Celtic Metalwork, 6th-$th Centuries AD, ed. S. Youngs (London, 1989), pp. 26-8, 33; C. Thomas, 'The Artist and the People: A Foray into Uncertain Semiotics', in From the Isles of the North: Early Medieval Art in Ireland and Britain, ed. C. Bourke (Belfast, 1995), pp. 5-6; C. Cessford, 'Early Historic Chains of Power', Pictish Art Society Journal, 6 (1994), 23-4. 42

Two Frontier States: Northumbria and Wessex, c. 650-750

35

most precious of all metals may also have added to the spoils. The scarcity of recovered gold proves little. Much less subject to casual loss than silver, gold objects are comparably, and frequently, referred to in a more reliable source, eighth-century Anglo-Saxon charters, which archaeology has again failed to validate.47 Via northern intermediaries, Northumbrian expansion in the northeast is thus likely to have resulted in the transmission of some of the riches of Roman Britain to one of its successor states. The northwestern areas over which Northumbria ruled at one time or another Dalriada and Strathclyde from c. 635 to 685 and Rheged beyond that date - were also wealthy, but in different ways. All these petty states contained sites where excavation has revealed an opulent material culture: Dunadd and Dunollie in Dalriada, Dumbarton in Strathclyde, Whithorn and Mote of Mark in Rheged.48 Most of these places had certain common characteristics. With the exception of Whithorn, all were high-status sites, on fortified hilltops and with easy access to the sea. Dunadd indeed may have been the 'capital' of Dalriada, as Dumbarton was of Strathclyde.49 With the exception of Dumbarton (only very incompletely excavated), all have yielded either small gold objects or evidence for the working of gold and silver or, as at Dunadd, both.50 All without exception have produced imported E-ware pottery, dating from the seventh century and brought in by sea from the regions of Touraine and Poitou in western France.51 Other sites share some but not all of these features - notably Buiston crannog in Ayrshire (Strathclyde), which has yielded gold jewellery, evidence of preciousmetal-working and E-ware.52 The impression of wealth in metals which these sites convey is complemented by the occasional casual find 47

Campbell, 'Elements', p. 5 n. 13; idem, 'The Sale of Land and the Economics of Power in Early England: Problems and Possibilities', Haskins Society Journal, i (1989), 27-8. For a more sceptical view of the possibility of gold among the Votadini, see L. Alcock, Economy, Society and Warfare among the Britons and Saxons (Cardiff, 1987), p. 248, and idem, 'The Activities of Potentates in Celtic Britain, AD 500-800', in Power and Politics, ed. Driscoll and Nieke, p. 36. 48 Bibliographies for these sites will be found in Alcock, 'The Activities of Potentates', pp. 40-6; and see references below. 49 Adomnan of lona: Life ofSt Columba, trans. R. Sharpe (Harmondsworth, 1995), p. 291; Alcock, 'The Activities of Potentates', p. 31; Alcock, Bede, Eddius, pp. 12-13. 50 E. Campbell and A. Lane, 'Celtic and Germanic Interaction in Dalriada: The 7thCentury Metalworking Site at Dunadd', in The Age of Migrating Ideas, ed. R. M. Spearman and J. Higgitt (Edinburgh/Stroud, 1993), pp. 52-62. 51 C. Thomas, A Provisional List of Imported Pottery in Post-Roman Western Britain and Ireland (Redruth, 1981), pp. 21-2; idem, ' "Gallici Nautae de Galliarum Provinces" - A Sixth/Seventh Century Trade with Gaul, Reconsidered', Medieval Archaeology, 34 (1990), 1-22; J. M. Wooding, Communication and Commerce along the Western Sealanes, AD 400-800, BAR, International Series, 654 (Oxford, 1996), pp. 73-83, 97. 52 Alcock, Economy, Society and Warfare, pp. 200, 207.

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The Medieval State

notably the magnificent Hunterston brooch, Irish or Irish-influenced work of c. 700, made of silver, gold and amber, and again from Strathclyde.53 Although these sites are located in different kingdoms, they seem to suggest an underlying economic and political pattern widely found in this south-western quarter of Scotland. Almost all were important local centres of power, associated with rulership, precious metals and a foreign trade which may provide an entree to the real source of the region's wealth. The best evidence for that trade, the E-ware pottery of western France, is still more widespread in eastern and northern Ireland, appearing on some thirty-two sites and suggesting that some common mercantile enterprise united the Irish and Scottish shores of the Irish Sea.54 Its occurrence has been plausibly seen as a by-product of a trade in wine, imported in cask, with E-ware pots as cargo 'fillers'; though for the societies of the Celtic west, which lacked any indigenous pottery, the E-ware may have had a higher and more independent value than that.55 It is possible that gold was also among the imports, since the gold which occurs naturally in southern Scotland seems too exiguous to supply the widely evidenced craft of precious jewellery.56 What was exported in exchange has been the subject of various guesses: from Scotland, probably furs, pearls, skins, slaves, hides and semiprecious stones; from the west generally, predominantly wool but also hides and leather goods.57 Evidence from Ireland, admittedly later, suggests that it may be in order to focus more exclusively on the hides which we have already argued to have been so central to the Northumbrian economy. Writing of twelfth-century Ireland, Giraldus Cambrensis alerts us to the possibilities by noting that the country imported copious supplies of wine from Poitou in exchange for hides and animal skins.58 In the later middle ages Ireland's huge herds of cattle made hides its main export after fish;59 and the source of E-ware pottery in just the region from which, according to Giraldus, Ireland later imported wine points to the likelihood of much earlier origins for the trading system which he 'The Work of Angels', ed. Youngs, pp. 75, 91-2. Thomas, A Provisional List, pp. 22-4, supplemented by Wooding, Communication and Commerce, p. 97. 55 For differing views, see Thomas, ' "Gallici Nautae" ', pp. 16-17, and Wooding, Communication and Commerce, pp. 70, 81-2. 56 Alcock, The Neighbours of the Picts, p. 40. 57 Ibid.; L. Alcock and E. A. Alcock, 'Reconnaissance Excavations on Early Historic Fortifications and Other Royal Sites in Scotland, 2: Excavations at Dunollie Castle, Oban, Argyll, 1978', Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, 117 (1987), p. 144; Nieke and Duncan, 'Dalriada' p. 15. 58 Giraldi Cambrensis opera, ed. J. F. Dimock, 8 vols, Rolls Series (London, 1861-91), v. 28. 53 54

Two Frontier States: Northumbria and Wessex, c. 650-750

37

describes. For the Scottish end of the trade route we have no similar literary references beyond the allusion in Adomnan's Life of Columba dating from the late seventh century but referring to the late sixth - to 'Gallic sailors arriving . . . from Gaul', at a place somewhere near lona, and usually taken to be Dunadd:60 so confirming the archaeological evidence for Scottish links with Francia. Archaeology again hints at the commodities of trade by showing that cattle dominated the agrarian economy of south-west Scotland, just as they did that of Ireland and Northumbria. On all excavated sites cattle bones far outnumber those of other quadrupeds. At Whithorn they constituted 82 per cent of the bone fragments, as against only 2.6 per cent for sheep and goat - a proportion which reflects the subordinate position of sheep throughout the north and west.61 Something of the importance of cattle can be sensed in one of the miracle stories associated with St Ninian of Whithorn in the eighth-century Miracula Nynie episcopi. Recounting how the saint blessed 'his dear herd' of cattle and foiled a nocturnal attempt at theft by rustlers, the story points both to the high value attached to cattle and to another possible parallel with Ireland; for what it describes is akin to one of the cattle raids so common there.62 Though Giraldus remains our only substantive witness, 'if cattle, then hides and commerce' remains an equation with more than circumstantial probability in its favour. For some fifty years in the seventh century the Northumbrian kings thus ruled territories which were rich, commercially vibrant, and part of a continuum with Ireland which was as evident in maritime trade as in politics and the life of the church.63 How effectively they could exploit their opportunities here is a difficult question, but two suggestions can be made. First, they may have been able to levy tribute from these areas, perhaps according to orderly assessment arrangements and perhaps partly in the form of service, especially the ship-service which the peoples of Dalriada may have been obliged to perform for their native rulers. We have Bede's word for it that Oswiu at least made tributary the Irish of Dalriada as well as the Picts.64 Secondly, they were probably appropriating centres and systems for the payment of tribute in kind which were already in use. A plausible case can be made for Adomnan, trans. Sharpe, pp. 132, 290-1; Thomas,' "Gallic! Nautae" ', p. 2. Hill, Whithorn, pp. 605-6; Alcock, Neighbours of the Picts, p. 36. 62 W. W. MacQueen, 'Miracula Nynie Episcopi', Transactions of the Dumfriesshire and Galloway Natural History and Antiquarian Society, 37 (1959-60), 29, 45; Hill, Whithorn, pp. i, 15. For cattle raiding in Ireland, see Lucas, Cattle in Ancient Ireland, pp. 125-200. 63 Cf. Campbell, 'Elements', p. 4. 64 Bede, ii. 5 (pp. 148-51); J. Campbell, 'The Debt of the Early English Church to Ireland', in Ireland and Christendom, ed. P. Ni Chatham and M. Richter (Stuttgart, !987)5 pp. 335-6- Cf. below, p. 52. 60 61

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Dunadd as one such centre: multiple finds of rotary querns and leather scraps may argue for renders in grain and cattle, while Germanic influence on seventh-century metalwork made there points to Northumbrian contacts and possibly to a Northumbrian takeover.65 It is, of course, true that any such exploitation must have been relatively shortlived, ending (if Bede is right) after Nechtansmere. By 685, however, these imperial opportunities may have done much to fuel the royal largesse which underlay the lavish endowment of the Northumbrian church and to make possible the career of such an exwarrior-turned-monastic-founder as Benedict Biscop.66 Even after Nechtansmere not all was lost, as we have seen. Not only was Lothian retained, but along the Solway the Northumbrian realm continued to expand, taking in by 700 the most important of all these regional centres: Whithorn. The recent excavations at Whithorn point to wealth, founded on commercial activity, unparalleled elsewhere in western Scotland. Whithorn has produced the second largest assemblage (after Hamwic) of early medieval vessel glass, much of it imported from the Continent, for any British site; the second largest concentration of Eware (after Dunadd); evidence for the working of gold and silver; and a range of Northumbrian coins, mainly the sceattas and stycas of the eighth and ninth centuries, unique in Scotland.67 Although Whithorn was certainly a monastic town - rare in the British Isles outside Ireland - it is unlikely that Ninian's shrine was the sole motor of this activity; and more likely that the (unexcavated) port of Whithorn, with its excellent harbour,68 and the monastic centre some two miles inland formed twin settlements, with a character akin to one of the great wics of southern and eastern England. That such a place remained a part of 'greater Northumbria' throughout the eighth century may do something to explain the kingdom's survival as a powerful and prosperous state. The appointment of Pecthelm, a man with strong Northumbrian connections,69 as Whithorn's first bishop about 725 should be seen in political as well as ecclesiastical terms. A friendly bishop was a means to Northumbrian control. Northumbria thus possessed not only valuable natural resources but also extensive possibilities of gain from commerce and tribute-taking which were in part the consequences of expansion. In the east, the kingdom's primary and primordial contacts, commercial and cultural, were with Kent and the north-western continental littoral, centering on 65

Nieke and Duncan, 'Dalriada', p. 13; Campbell and Lane, 'Celtic and Germanic Interaction at Dunadd', pp. 60-1. 66 Campbell, 'Elements', p. 5. 67 Hill, Whithorn, pp. 297; 319; 37, 115-17, 403; 332-568 Ibid., p. 5. 69 Ibid., pp. 18-19.

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the Rhine estuary and Gaul. One witness to these contacts, as well as to Northumbria's general prosperity, is the emergence of coinage there at a surprisingly early date: a probable gold thrymsa coinage from York of c. 650; a more certain striking of sceattas in fine silver by Aldfrith around 700; and then the much larger mid-eighth-century sceatta coinage of King Eadbhert and his brother.70 Before 700, when minting was otherwise confined to the south-east, even the occasional and small-scale participation of Northumbria in a coin-using economy is remarkable. Nor is native coinage the only witness to southern contacts. The only coin found at Yeavering was an imitation of one from Randers;71 Oswald's gold and purple banner and the gold and purple altar cloths in Wilfrid's church at Ripon sound very like the goldbraided cloth found mainly in eastern Kent, but ultimately continental in origin;72 the gold and garnet cross found in Cuthbert's tomb is Celtic in form but Kentish in its craft traditions.73 Despite its northerly situation, Northumbria looked firmly southward, across the North Sea to the rich Channel seaboard. But in the north and west there were different connections. These were not only with Ireland but with another commercial system linking the coastlands of western Scotland and - more permanently - the Solway with western France. The willingness of traders from Poitou to make the long sea voyage - some six hundred miles to Whithorn, considerably further to Dunadd - points to the wealth of the hinterland whose harbours they were making for. That too is likely to account for Northumbria's continuing attention to the same regions in the mideighth century. Eadbert's annexation of the plain of Kyle in Ayrshire (Strathclyde) in 750, and his capture of Dumbarton in 756, places very distant from the Northumbrian heartlands,74 are difficult to explain without invoking economic as well as military and strategic consideration. Such activities may not only have been land-based, for in the previous century Edwin's early conquest of Man and Anglesey, probably in the 6205, and Ecgfrith's invasion of Ireland in 684, had testified to a powerful Northumbrian presence in the Irish Sea.75 If we can speak of a Northumbrian 'empire', it was to a degree maritime as well as territorial; and it gave the kingdom access to two different 70 Metcalf, Thrymsas and Sceattas, i. 49-51, 117-19; Grierson and Blackburn, Medieval European Coinage, i. 163, 166, 182. 71 Hope-Taylor, Yeavering, pp. 182-3. 72 Bede, iii. n (p. 247); Life of Bishop Wilfrid, p. 37; E. Crowfoot and S. C. Hawkes, 'Early Anglo-Saxon Gold Braids', Medieval Archaeology, n (1967), 53-7. 73 R. L. S. Bruce-Mitford, 'The Pectoral Cross', in The Relics ofSt Cuthbert, ed. C. F. Battiscombe (Oxford, 1956), pp. 308-25. 74 Bede (continuation), p. 575; Symeonis Monachi Opera Omnia, ed. T. Arnold, 2 vols, Rolls Series (London, 1882-5), ii. 40; Kirby, The Earliest English Kings, pp. 149-50. 75 Campbell, 'Debt of the Early English Church', p. 336.

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trading systems and two sets of continental connections, via both the east and the west coasts. It was Northumbria's location and the sorts of enterprise that location encouraged which partly underlay both Northumbria's rise and the surprising gradualness of its decline. Conditions in the new lands of the south-west contrasted strongly with those in the comparable territory of the Northumbrians. Though the West Saxon acquisitions were more permanent, their extent never matched those of 'greater Northumbria' before 685. To judge by archaeology (and in the virtual absence of texts that is all that we can judge by), they were also much poorer in terms of the commodities which contributed most to the power of contemporary rulers. In the period before the conquest, from c. 400 to 600 (as indeed afterwards), the best gauge of that poverty is the near absence of precious metalwork. The record appears to consist of no more than two silver penannular brooches, one found near Dartmouth in Devon, the other from Worlebury in Somerset.76 It is true that they are the only two such brooches known in silver, but they hardly bear comparison with the splendid Hunterston brooch from Strathclyde or with the rich objects and the evidence from precious-metal-working which helps to define the numerous high-status sites of the north.77 In the south-west few comparable sites have been discovered. Those excavated - the most conspicuous - number only Tintagel in Cornwall and Cadbury Castle and Cadbury Congresbury, both in Somerset. The record of precious metals at all three is exiguous. At Tintagel and Cadbury Castle there were slight traces of bronze-working, but none of gold or silver; while Cadbury Congresbury yielded two tiny pieces of scrap gold, but no sign of silver or its working.78 Despite the existence of silver-bearing lead ores in the Somerset Mendips, worked by the Romans, both gold and silver appear to have been extremely rare in the south-west in the two centuries following the end of Roman Britain. The scarcity of precious metals, which occur naturally in the southwest in deposits hardly smaller than those found elsewhere in parts of Celtic Britain much better supplied with gold and silver objects, is easier to identify than to explain. Part of the explanation almost certainly lies in earlier relationships between Britons and Romans. The impact of Todd, The South-West, p. 256. Above, pp. 35-6. 78 C. Thomas, English Heritage Book of Tintagel (London, 1993), pp. 94-5; Alcock, Cadbury Castle, p. 125; P. Rahtz et al., Cadbury Congresbury, 1968-73: A Late/PostRoman Hilltop Settlement in Somerset, BAR, 123 (Oxford, 1992), pp. 131, 238. It is also worth noting the complete absence of exhibits from the four south-western counties, by contrast with the prolific numbers from Ireland, Scotland and even (to a lesser extent) eastern England, in the 1989 exhibition of Celtic metalwork catalogued in 'The Work of Angels', ed. Youngs. 76

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Rome was by no means uniform throughout the region. Much of modern Somerset was heavily Romanized, bisected by the 'economic corridor' of the Fosse Way, and with concentrations of villas around the major Roman towns of Bath and Ilchester.79 By contrast, west of the Parrett in the civitas Dumnoniarum lay 'one of the least Romanized regions of Roman Britain'. Exeter was the only town, there were very few villas, and an essentially Iron-Age pattern of rural settlement.80 Relations between natives and Romans appear to have been everywhere peaceful. This was partly because, in the far west at least, there was so little Roman settlement and partly because there were no visible counterparts in the south-west to the aggressive heroic societies of the north: the Votadini whom we can see in the Gododdin going out to battle with Anglian invaders, the Pictish warriors who appear horsed, helmeted and armed on the Aberlemno cross-slab.81 It is significant that after the initial phase of first-century Roman conquest it was not thought necessary to maintain a large military presence in the southwest.82 The mechanism of hostility, raids and plunder, which in the north transferred Roman wealth into British and Pictish hands, and probably later back to Northumbria, did not exist.83 When Roman control outside Dumnonia broke down in the late fourth century, and raiding began in the rich landscape of the lower Severn, the eastern Bristol Channel and south Somerset, the raiders were Irish, who presumably carried their spoils outside the province altogether.84 It was about this time that much remaining wealth disappeared into the ground, as hoards.85 But whether exported or buried, wealth does not seem to have passed from Roman to Briton. The structures of native power, as they emerged under the western kinglets of the fifth and sixth centuries, made do without it. Cadbury Castle was no Traprain Law. A second possible explanation for the absence of precious metals in the native societies of the south-west is provided, a little paradoxically, by the evidence for other sorts of wealth to which these societies had access. The main indicator of its existence lies in the imported K. Branigan, 'Villa Settlement in the West Country', in The Roman West Country, ed. K. Branigan and P. J. Fowler (Newton Abbot, 1976), pp. 120-22. 80 Todd, The South-West, pp. 216, 219-31; P. J. Fowler, 'Farms and Fields in the Roman West Country', in The Roman West Country, ed. Branigan and Fowler, pp. 167-8; C. Thomas, 'The End of the Roman South-West', in ibid., p. 199. 81 The Problem of the Picts, ed. F. T. Wainwright (Edinburgh, 1955), plate 8. 82 W. H. Manning, 'The Conquest of the West Country', in The Roman West Country, ed. Branigan and Fowler, pp. 35-41. 83 Above, pp. 34-5. 84 B. Cunliffe, Wessex to AD 1000 (Harlow, 1993), pp. 268-9; S. Bird, 'Roman Avon', in The Archaeology of Avon, ed. M. Aston and R. lies (Bristol, n.d.), pp. 69-70. 85 P. Isaac, 'Coin Hoards and History in the West', in The Roman West Country, ed. Branigan and Fowler, pp. 59-60. 79

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Mediterranean pottery of the fifth and sixth centuries which has been found on some twelve sites in Cornwall, five in Devon and four in Somerset.86 It is an accepted view that the Mediterranean voyagers came for tin, the west country's most valuable resource, bringing in exchange oil and wine. The imported goods were then redistributed, perhaps via Tintagel, the major find-spot for imported pottery; and it may have been by redistribution rather than by direct contact that these pots and their contents reached such interior and easterly sites as Cadbury Castle and Cadbury Congresbury.87 The presence of such exotica at all three places is as firm an indicator of high status as it is at Dunadd and the other seaboard sites of Scotland, though their deficiency in precious metals remains as a measure of the difference between the south-west and the north. Yet these imports did little to increase the material wealth of lands which would eventually fall under West Saxon control. Not only does the distribution pattern of the pottery suggest that the main centres of this trade were in western and northern Cornwall, untouched by West Saxon colonization for centuries; but the imports were largely consumables. Prized though they must have been, they made no permanent contribution to the region's resources. That oil and wine were not the sole imports is implied by occasional finds of early Byzantine coins, most suggestively one from Princetown, on tin-rich Dartmoor.88 But this was a low-value copper piece, and neither it nor its companions does much to modify the general conclusions to be drawn from the pottery. In terms of portable and durable wealth, therefore, the British peoples of the south-west seem to have had little to offer their West Saxon conquerors. Of course, there as in the north, expansion brought with it land, a resource so obvious as to be easily overlooked, and one which could be used to endow monasteries and reward nobles. But these were societies which valued treasure and bullion above land,89 and in treasure and bullion the natives, and in consequence the invaders, were poor. As we move towards the era of conquest the limited impoverishment of the Britons may have turned into a more general economic and political breakdown. There are two pointers in this direction. First, our three high-status sites of Tintagel, Cadbury Castle and Cadbury Congresbury all appear to have been deserted after c. 600, while occupation at other British sites such as Glastonbury Tor similarly Thomas, A Provisional List, pp. 6-18. Wooding, Communication and Commerce, pp. 41-54; Alcock, Cadbury Castle, pp. 141-2; Rahtz et al., Cadbury Congresbury, pp. 238-42. 88 'Tenth Report of the Committee on Scientific Memoranda', Transactions of the Devonshire Association, 17 (1885), pp. 69-70; Todd, The South-West, pp. 255-6. 89 Campbell, 'The Sale of Land', pp. 32-7, is crucial here. 86

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ceases.90 Secondly, the evidence for overseas trading contacts also dwindles. That Mediterranean pottery disappears after c. 550 is not in itself significant, for so it did throughout western Britain. Much more telling is the failure of the later E-ware pottery of western France to replace it: E-ware has been found on only three sites in Cornwall, one in Devon and none in Somerset.91 This withering of continental connections has been speculatively interpreted in terms of 'the withdrawal of the Mediterranean market for metals', its consequences a social collapse, as demand slumped for the single commodity which had sustained rulers in power, and a resulting power vacuum which prepared the way for the Saxon conquests.92 From the desertion of sites we might also suspect a measure of depopulation; though the only known cause - cross-Channel emigration to Armorica - lay much earlier, in the late fifth and early sixth centuries. Could bubonic plague, prevalent in the Mediterranean world at this time and perhaps imported thence via maritime trade, have been a more important cause? The devastation of sixth-century Ireland by just such plagues makes this more than a possibility.93 All this is hypothetical. Yet the evidence does suggest that the wellorganized societies of the sixth century, their rulers drinking wine and commanding labour resources sufficient to construct the izoo-yard stone rampart surrounding Cadbury Castle,94 had all but evaporated by the time of the West Saxons' arrival in the south-west. If this was so, the contrast with the north would have been marked, for there, as we have seen, the Northumbrian rulers probably took over and exploited both places and systems which were already functioning in support of their indigenous predecessors. Nor was this the only such contrast, for as commerce contracted in the south-west so it seems to have expanded in the north, where three sites yield the earlier Mediterranean pottery but nine the later E-ware.95 As the native societies of the south-west declined, so those of the north-west prospered. What lay behind this pattern we cannot tell. But it is difficult to doubt that it served to promote the rise of Northumbria and to inhibit that of Wessex. If the south-west was an economic backwater when the West Saxons moved in, so it remained throughout the seventh and eighth centuries. All the mechanisms which in Northumbria and its outlying territories Alcock, Cadbury Castle, p. 152. Thomas, A Provisional List, pp. 20-1; Wood, Communication and Commerce, p. 97. 92 E. Campbell, 'Trade in the Dark-Age West: A Peripheral Activity?', in Scotland in Dark-Age Britain, ed. B. E. Crawford (St Andrews, 1996), pp. 85-6. 93 Todd, The South-West, pp. 238-40; J. R. Maddicott, 'Plague in Seventh-Century England', Past and Present, 156 (1997), i-n. 94 Alcock, Cadbury Castle, pp. 14-23. 95 Atlas of Scottish History to 1707, ed. P. G. B. McNeill and H. L. MacQueen (Edinburgh, 1996), p. 57; Campbell, 'Trade in the Dark-Age West', pp. 87-8. 90

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signalled economic growth were missing. The two most salient of those mechanisms were coinage and coastal trading places. By contrast with the early - and by the mid-eight century prolific - coinages of Northumbria, in western Wessex there was no coinage. Even the minting of the abundant secondary sceattas of the early eighth century did not extend beyond Hamwic or just possibly another unknown location in southern Hampshire, and no sceattas of any type have been found further west than Hod Hill in Dorset and Glastonbury in Somerset.96 In Devon Anglo-Saxon coins of any period remain exceptionally rare; the earliest is a Canterbury penny of Archbishop Ceolnoth (833-70), from Exeter.97 Coastal trading places are as yet unknown. But in the preceding period they appear to have been little more than 'beach markets', such as Bantham and Mothecombe, at the mouths of rivers in south Devon; Bantham's possible continuance into the seventh century may be indicated by its being the only Devon find-spot for Eware pottery.98 There may have been one or two more urbanized places - possibly Exeter, with its early monastery, possibly Wareham." But wholly absent were the great coastal monasteries which in Northumbria became both centres of demand and coin-using markets, filling some of the functions of towns. The greater monasteries of Wessex known to us - Glastonbury, Sherborne, Malmesbury - were all inland, with nothing to suggest that they were of much commercial importance. The southwest had neither its York nor its Whitby nor its Whithorn. Nor is there any sign of the presence there of the Frisian traders who, by about 700, were active on the southern and eastern littoral, from Hamwic round to York. The economic currents which flowed westwards and northwards from Kent and the estuarine coastlands of the Rhine failed entirely to reach the far south-west. The examples of Northumbria and Wessex may suggest the need for caution in regarding our 'frontier states' as anything more than a geographical category. Once we move beyond their similarities of location, we can see that their ability to exploit that location varied greatly and that they developed in very different ways. The chief cause of those differences lay in the nature of the territories and the native 96 Metcalf, Thrymsas and Sceattas, i. 152-7, iii. 321-2; Sceattas in England and on the Continent, ed. Hill and Metcalf, pp. 252-3. 97 M. Dolley and M. Shiel, 'A Carolingian Denarius with a Devonshire Provenance', British Numismatic Journal, 50 (1980), 11; Todd, The South-West, pp. 284-5. 98 A. Fox, 'Some Evidence for a Dark-Age Trading Site at Bantham, near Thurlestone, South Devon', Antiquaries Journal, 35 (1955), 55-67; R. J. Silvester, 'An Excavation on the Post-Roman Site at Bantham, South Devon', Proceedings of the Devon Archaeological Society, 39 (1981), 89-116; Todd, The South-West, pp. 248-9; Alcock, Cadbury Castle, p. 146; Thomas, A Provisional List, p. 21. 99 Todd, The South-West, pp. 248-9; Alcock, Cadbury Castle, p. 146.

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societies over which Germanic rule extended. In the north the Northumbrians appropriated the lands of peoples rich in precious metals, commercially prosperous (more so in the seventh century than the sixth), and probably already subject to systems of taxation designed to support lordship. Add to these advantages Northumbria's own natural resources and maritime links to the south, and it becomes possible to discern the conditions which favoured both Northumbrian imperium and the lavish endowment of the church which was the prerequisite for the Northumbrian Renaissance. Wessex, by contrast, came to dominate a more moribund political and economic landscape. Never possessing much in the way of precious metals, but with an active international commerce, with tin as an important resource, and with rulers who lived in some style, the far south-west had been one of the most economically dynamic regions of Britain in the fifth and sixth centuries. But by the seventh century this vigorous polity had subsided, for reasons which remain mysterious, leaving the West Saxons to enter into a depleted inheritance. Land there was; but not the gold and silver needed to maintain the loyalty of a comitatus and to establish a magnificent church. It was perhaps paradoxical that the 'rise of Wessex', when it came, owed more to expansion into old lands than into new. Egbert's appropriation of Kent in 825 gave him control of a far more wealthy and developed region than the south-west. Kent had a substantial share in cross-Channel trade, a large mint at Canterbury, and a powerful nobility whom good government could induce to be loyal. Showing the value which he attached to his new territory, Egbert visited Kent on a number of occasions. He was never, so far as we known, in Devon - by comparison with Kent, hardly more than a 'third world' locality.100 Given the advantages also accruing from the possession of Hamwic, one of the largest ports in northern Europe, it is perhaps not surprising that the ninth century saw a proliferation of gold and silver metalwork formerly almost unknown in the West Saxon kingdom. 'It is as though Wessex had emerged from being a relative backwater and could now acquire considerable wealth.'101 But it was hardly the westward expansion of the frontier which had made this possible. Only with the destruction of Kent by the Vikings, with the development of Alfred's interest in Somerset and Devon, and with the growth of Exeter in the years around 900, would the south-west begin to contribute substantially to the achievements of Wessex.102 But that was more than two centuries after Cenwealh had defeated the Britons at Penselwood and driven them west to the Parrett. 100 S. Keynes, 'The Control of Kent in the Ninth Century', Early Medieval Europe, 2 (1993)3 111-I2, 120-4; D. Hill, An Atlas of Anglo-Saxon England (Oxford, 1981), p. 83. 101 Hinton, 'The Archaeology of Eighth- to Eleventh-Century Wessex', p. 38. 102 J. R. Maddicott, 'Trade, Industry and the Wealth of King Alfred', Past and Present, 123 (1989), 7-10, 22, 32-40, 44-7.

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3 The Construction of the Early Scottish State ALEXANDER GRANT While the early English state was experiencing the precocious development that James Campbell has analysed so well, the early Scottish state was also under construction. It was not so centralized or wealthy - for instance, before Anglo-Norman settlers and ideas came into Scotland during the twelfth century, it had no sheriffdoms, burghs or coinage, which were crucial in Anglo-Saxon England - but it was not powerless, and indeed did not suffer external conquest during the eleventh century. Also, as an essentially Celtic state, it stands in striking contrast to the political disunity found in Wales and Ireland. And the fact that it came to share the mainland of Britain with its more glamorous southern neighbour, after they had divided the middle kingdom of Northumbria between them, has of course helped to determine British history to the present day. The history of the early Scottish state - that is, before its 'Normalization' in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries - thus has a wide significance. Unfortunately, it is also exceptionally obscure, because of a fundamental problem of evidence: hardly anything other than king-lists and laconic annalistic chronicles survives from before noo, and although there is much more from the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, it is only what was preserved in private hands, for almost all the government records before 1292 (some 878 rolls of assorted records, together with numerous individual documents, according to a contemporary inventory) were lost after Edward I removed them to Westminster.1 Nevertheless, thanks largely to the remarkable struggles with intractable material carried out by the historians of early Scotland,2 The Acts of the Parliaments of Scotland (henceforth APS), ed. T. Thomson and C. Innes, 12 vols (Edinburgh, 1814-75), i. 107-17; cf. B. Webster, Scotland from the Eleventh Century to 1603 (Cambridge, 1975), pp. 122-7. 2 Notably, in recent years, A. A. M. Duncan, G. W. S. Barrow, M. O. Anderson, J. Bannerman, D. Broun and B. T. Hudson; and perhaps most remarkably, E. W. Robertson, whose Scotland under her Early Kings: A History of the Kingdom to the Close of the Thirteenth Century (Edinburgh, 1862) is full of important insights. The essential modern accounts are A. A. M. Duncan, Scotland: The Making of the Kingdom 1

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it is possible to glimpse at least some of the salient features, and to make suggestions about what may have been going on. Recent work has stressed the ideological side of the process, exemplified in the naming of the kingdom, the creation of its narrative history, and the establishment of ecclesiastical backing for the crown.3 Here, in a complementary approach, some of the likely socio-political factors in the state's construction will be highlighted. As already stressed, detailed analysis is out of the question, but it is worth trying to produce some models and (as James Campbell said of fifth- and sixth-century England) 'imagine the whole as a picture in the fire'.4 To begin, a summary of what is known of the basic political narrative is needed. Between the second and eighth centuries a process of coalescence and conquest turned a fairly large number of smallish tribes into a small number of larger units: northern Picts beyond the Mounth, or Grampian mountains; southern Picts between the Mounth and the Firth of Forth; Scots of Dal Riata (in modern Argyll); Britons of Strathclyde or Cumbria; and Angles of Northumbria (which included modern Lothian). The exiguous sources indicate a general pattern of continuous internal and external conflict, producing an unstable equilibrium in which over-kingships and hegemonies rose and fell,5 just as elsewhere in the British Isles. Then, in the ninth century, came the Viking onslaughts. They devastated all the northern kingdoms - but probably created the conditions in which the Dal Riata king Kenneth mac Alpin and his descendants effected the permanent take-over of southern Pictland after c. 842, establishing a dynasty that has reigned (Edinburgh, 1975), chs 3-6; A. P. Smyth, Warlords and Holy Men: Scotland, 80-1000 (London, 1984); G. W. S. Barrow, Kingship and Unity: Scotland, 1000-1306 (London, 1981), chs 1-2; and B. T. Hudson, Kings of Celtic Scotland (Westport, CT, 1994). 3 D. Broun, 'The Origin of Scottish Identity', in Nations, Nationalism and Patriotism in the European Past, ed. C. Bj0rn, A. Grant and K. J. Stringer (Copenhagen, 1994), pp. 35-55; D. Broun, 'Defining Scotland and the Scots before the Wars of Independence', in Image and Identity: The Making and Remaking of Scotland through the Ages, ed. D. Broun, R. J. Finlay and M. Lynch (Edinburgh, 1998), pp. 4-17; D. Broun, 'The Birth of Scottish History', Scottish Historical Review, 76 (1997), 4-22; B. T. Hudson, ' "The Scottish Chronicle" ', ibid., 77 (1998), 129-61; idem, 'Kings and Church in Early Scotland', ibid., 73 (1994), 145-70; T. Clancy, 'lona, Scotland and the Celi De', in Scotland in Dark Age Britain, ed. B. E. Crawford (St Andrews, 1996), pp. 111-30. 4 Anglo-Saxons, ed. Campbell et al., p. 20. 5 Strong arguments have been made for the expansion of the southern Pictish kingdom of Fortriu, in the lower Tay region, into a hegemony over all the Picts and at times over the Scots as well, and this had led to discussion of the creation of a Pictish state: e.g., M. Lynch, Scotland: A New History (2nd edn, London, 1992), ch. 2; and S. Foster, Picts, Gaels and Scots (London, 1996), ch. 7. But I am not convinced that the political structures of that time were any more lasting than, say, those of Offa of Mercia.

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virtually ever since.6 Until about 900 they were called kings of the Picts, but then the name Alba (nowadays Gaelic for 'Scotland' but originally meaning 'Albion' or Britain) came into use, denoting the creation of a Gaelic kingdom focused on the power bases of the southern Picts (who were essentially Britons)7 in the basin of the River Tay and the eastmidland plain;8 this resembles the adoption of Angelcynn for the newly united West Saxon/Mercian peoples in the 88os.9 Over the next hundred or so years, the kings of Alba gradually extended their territory. South of the Forth, tenth-century gains at the expense of a weakened Northumbria were consolidated by Malcolm II (1005-34), under whom both Lothian to the Tweed and Strathclyde to at least the Solway were finally annexed. North of the Mounth, similarly, the kingdom of Moray - created when a different Dal Riata kindred overran the northern Picts - was attacked from tenth-century Alba, and was brought within his realm by Malcolm II. Malcolm's northern success was partly due to an alliance with the Norse Earl Sigurd of Orkney/Caithness (in the far north), who married his daughter;10 and Sigurd's son and successor apparently acknowledged Malcolm's lordship over Caithness.11 Thus, conceptually at least, Malcolm's kingdom stretched from the Pentland Firth to the Tweed, covering most of modern Scotland. As in England, however, the other theme of the eleventh century is one of struggles to possess that kingdom. Macbeth of Moray (1040-57) won it from Malcolm IPs grandson Duncan I; Duncan's son Malcolm III (1058-93) won it from Macbeth; and following Malcolm Ill's death his sons fought his brother for it. In this period the 'foreign' (English) dimension was increasingly important, especially when Malcolm III married Edgar ALtheling's sister 6 That justifies the traditional practice of numbering Scottish kings from Kenneth mac Alpin, though the current fashion is to identify them by their patronymics, and to use Irish Gaelic orthography: e.g. Malcolm II (1005-34) becomes Mael Coluim mac Cinaeda. I prefer the modern English forms of the kings' names (if such exist), just as for Scottish kings with Anglo-Saxon or French names; to do otherwise denies Gaelic's contribution to modern Scotland, in which Kenneth, Malcolm and so on are common. 7 Cf. W. J. Watson, The History of the Celtic Place-Names of Scotland (Edinburgh, 1926), pp. 10-14. 8 Broun, 'Origin of Scottish Identity', pp. 40-52. 9 S. Foot, 'The Making of. Angelcynn: English Identity before the Norman Conquest', TRHS, 6th series, 6 (1996), 25-49, at 26-7. 10 Hudson, Kings of Celtic Scotland, p. 135, argues that she was a daughter of MaelColuim mac Mael-Brigti, ruler of Moray. But he did not come to power until 1020, whereas the marriage was no later than 1008: B. E. Crawford, Scandinavian Scotland (Leicester, 1987), p. 71. 11 By Earl Thorfinn, to counter the king of Norway's claim to lordship over both Orkney and Caithness: ibid., p. 71. It would only have been a token acknowledgement; nevertheless, that the argument could be made at all is significant, and though Thorfinn subsequently fought against Macbeth, he was probably on good terms with Malcolm III.

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Margaret in c. 1070; and during the 10905 Malcolm's sons needed the backing of William II of England to win the kingship. There was no Norman Conquest of Scotland, however; it was strong enough to resist private colonization by Norman barons, while the Norman kings did not try to conquer it. But Malcolm Ill's youngest son David I (1124-53) recruited many 'Normans' into his service, and his grandsons Malcolm IV (1153-65) and William I (1165-1214) did the same producing the 'Anglo-Norman era in Scottish history'.12 In broad terms, therefore, the political narrative of pre-twelfth-century Alba parallels that of Anglo-Saxon England. Alba was, however, a rather different kingdom, as the word itself demonstrates. The Gaelic Alba, and its normal Latin equivalent Scotia, did not mean all the territory ruled by its kings, as Engla land did,13 but were restricted to the original PictishScottish kingdom north of the Forth, which has been aptly described as 'Scotland proper'; only in the thirteenth century did Alba and Scotia denote what is now modern Scotland.14 This is not just a matter of terminology; for instance, after its annexation Strathclyde was ruled as a sub-kingdom by Malcolm II's grandson (and successor) Duncan, and while its history in the rest of the eleventh century is unclear, under Alexander I (1107-24) it was held, with southern Lothian, by the future David I, who was styled 'prince of Cumbria'.15 Galloway, in the far south-west, was probably even more separate.16 As for the Scandinavianized regions along the west coast and north of the Moray Firth, any acceptance of Malcolm II's kingship would have lapsed with his death, and although Scottish superiority may have been recognized once more under Malcolm III and was confirmed to Edgar (1097-1107) by the Norwegian king in IO98,17 it again would have been only token; the far north and the west coast were not really incorporated into the kingdom until the thirteenth century. Moreover, in the strictest sense Alba or Scotia did not include Moray - as a charter of David I referring to the men of Moray and of Scotia shows.18 G. W. S. Barrow, The Anglo-Norman Era in Scottish History (Oxford, 1980). P. Wormald, 'Engla Land: The Making of an Allegiance', Journal of Historical Sociology, 7 (1994), 1-2414 Broun, 'Defining Scotland and the Scots', pp. 6-9. 15 Hudson, Kings of Celtic Scotland, p. 117; Duncan, Making of the Kingdom, pp. 134-5; Registrum Episcopatus Glasguensis, ed. C. Innes (Bannatyne and Maitland Clubs, 1843), i, no. I. 16 R. D. Oram, 'Fergus, Galloway and the Scots', in Galloway: Land and Lordship, ed. R. D. Oram and G. P. Stell (Edinburgh, 1991), pp. 117-30. 17 After the death of Earl Thorfinn the Mighty, Malcolm III married Ingibjorg, who was either his widow, as in the sagas, or his daughter. See Early Sources of Scottish History, AD 500 to 1286, ed. A. O. Anderson (2nd edn, 2 vols, Stamford, 1990), ii. 2-4, 24-5; and ii. 112-14, f°r the agreement with Edgar. 18 Early Scottish Charters prior to 1153, ed. A. C. Lawrie (Glasgow, 1905), no. no. 12

13

The Construction of the Early Scottish State

51

The early Scottish state can therefore be seen as consisting of a relatively small core - 'Scotland proper', or the original Alba, amounting to about a quarter of modern Scotland - and a very large periphery, comprising Lothian, Strathclyde, Moray and, nominally, the northern and western fringes. That said, one of the most important points about it is that the main peripheral areas did not break away. Lothian, Strathclyde and Moray may not have been part of 'Scotland proper', but having been annexed they stayed within the realm of Alba's kings (unless, that is, Strathclyde included land south of Carlisle, which was lost to England). The case of Moray is particularly instructive. When Macbeth mac Findlaich, the provincial ruler of Moray, killed Duncan I in 1040, he did not assert his province's independence, but instead became king of Alba himself; and subsequent conflicts involving Moray under Malcolm III and his successors were also essentially about the kingship of Alba. In other words, although on its own Alba was a fairly small political unit - comparable, indeed, to the main Irish overkingdoms - it was sufficiently adhesive for Lothian, Strathclyde and Moray to remain attached to it. That makes the kingdom of Alba significantly different from the Irish and Welsh kingdoms,19 and closer, after all, to Anglo-Saxon England. The original Alba, or 'Scotland proper' between the Forth and Moray,20 was thus the crucial element in the early Scottish state. Discussion of its construction will start with the local territorial units. As elsewhere in Britain, these seem to have been what historians nowadays generally call 'multiple estates': units of land with a central base, to which renders in kind were brought from surrounding townships or fermtouns (to use later Scottish terminology).21 The size of Alba's multiple estates may have varied considerably, but in general they seem to have been roughly equivalent to one or two later parishes.22 Within mem, each individual fermtoun appears commonly See, e.g. W. Davies, 'Celtic Kingships in the Early Middle Ages', in Kings and Kingship in Medieval Europe, ed. A. J. Duggan (London, 1993), pp. 101-24; though I feel this exaggerates the area of Alba in c. 900, and am unconvinced that eleventhcentury Scotland had a system of royal officers who arrested those suspected of committing offences (pp. 118-20). 20 That definition of Alba includes Buchan, which may not actually have been part of Alba until the end of the tenth century. In effect, I have followed the (later) ecclesiastical boundaries between the dioceses of Aberdeen and Moray. 21 G. W. S. Barrow, The Kingdom of the Scots (London, 1973), chs i, 9. 22 That seems to be the case with those identified in Barrow, Kingdom of the Scots, pp. 39-55. For the later rough correspondence of baronies (including many erstwhile manages) with parishes, see A. Grant, 'Baronies, Lordships and Earldoms in the Early Fifteenth Century', in Atlas of Scottish History to 1707, ed. P. G. B. McNeill and H. L. MacQueen (Edinburgh, 1996), pp. 201-7. 19

52

The Medieval State

to have been a half, a whole, or a double 'davach'. This term derives from the Gaelic dabhach, meaning a vat or tub, and 'probably represents the amount of land in respect of which a large vat of grain was paid as a render';23 it was the standard measure of arable land in northern Scotland throughout the Middle Ages, and was reckoned to contain some 200 Scottish acres, plus equally important rights of pasture. That would have been enough to support several peasant families or a minor lord; while the important lords would have had one or more multiple estates, living in them and receiving the bulk of the due renders or rents in kind. This seems a fairly straightforward model for the organization of Alba's rural society. In addition, the multiple estates provided a way of organizing the obligations of tribute, called 'cain' (Gaelic cdin), and hospitality, called 'conveth' (Gaelic coinnmeadti), that were owed to kings and overlords; these were probably assessed on the basis of davachs, which were fiscal as well as economic units.24 The multiple estates would also have been central to the age-old general military obligation of medieval Scotland, known north of the Forth as 'Scottish service', by which each piece of land had to provide one or more men for the king's army, unless the emergency was so great that every man had to turn out 'to defend his head'.25 The Senchusfer nAlban ('History of the men of Alba') gives elaborate details of such a system in seventh-century Dal Riata, where it operated through sets of five houses arranged into larger tribal groupings; later charters indicate that, within Alba, the davach (perhaps notionally equivalent to the five houses) was the basic unit of assessment.26 The multiple estates probably gave a framework for local justice, too, not only as a by-product of lordship, but also in what were later called 'cuthilT courts, which dealt with neighbourhood peasant disputes. It has been shown that 'cuthill' derives from the Gaelic comhdhail., meaning assembly, which occurs in over sixty place-names, occasionally close together but never more than one to a parish;27 the inference is that such a court would have operated in each multiple estate. Who possessed Alba's multiple estates? The law-code known as 'The 23 A. Easson, 'Medieval Land Assessment', in Atlas of Scottish History to 1707, p. 284; also Barrow, Kingdom of the Scots, pp. 268-9, though that sees the davach in terms of grain sown. The two amounts were probably the same, judging by the traditional idea that one part of the harvest was for eating, one part for sowing, and one part for the lord. 24 Regesta Regum Scottorum (henceforth RRS), i, The Acts of Malcolm IV, ed. G. W. S. Barrow (Edinburgh, 1960), pp. 52-4; RRS, ii, The Acts of William I, ed. G. W. S. Barrow with W. W. Scott (Edinburgh, 1971), pp. 52-3; Duncan, Making of the Kingdom, pp. 152-7. 25 RRS, ii. 56-7; Duncan, Making of the Kingdom, pp. 378-85. 26 J. Bannerman, Studies in the History ofDalriada (Edinburgh, 1974), pp. 27-156. 27 G. W. S. Barrow, Scotland and its Neighbours in the Middle Ages (London, 1992), ch. ii.

The Construction of the Early Scottish State

53

Laws of the Brets and the Scots' - probably promulgated in the early eleventh century in order to standardize the cro (equivalent to wergild) and similar payments in Alba and Strathclyde, though its earliest surviving form is twelfth-century French28 - gives six grades of society: king ('le Rey descoce'); king's son and earl ('un conte descoce'); thane ('un thayn'); thane's son; thane's grandson and ogthiern ('un ogettheyrn': Gaelic octhigern, a young or junior lord); and peasant ('un vileyn'). Since the existing text must be an Anglo-Norman version of a Gaelic original, 'le Rey descoce' presumably corresponds to riAlban, and 'un conte descoce' to mormaer., which, as the eleventh- and twelfthcentury Gaelic notes in the Book of Deer show,29 was the equivalent of earl; although mormaer literally meant 'great steward',30 like most of the earls of medieval Scotland the mormaers were lords of provinces. What of 'thayn'? Thanes were clearly pivotal, for their cro is given as a hundred cattle, while for the other ranks it is a multiple or fraction of that;31 thus it is they, most probably, who were the lords of the multiple estates. The term derives, of course, from the Anglo-Saxon peng, which meant either any landowner below the earls, or more specifically a king's man.32 The second meaning was common in Anglo-Norman Scotland, where 'thane' denoted agents who ran units of crown lands (eventually called 'manages') on the king's behalf.33 Occasionally, however, it was used more generally - no doubt following practice in post-Conquest England - to mean a native landowner as opposed to an Anglo-Norman knight,34 and this is what it must have meant in the twelfth-century version of the 'Laws of the Brets and the Scots'. In that case, 'thayn' would also represent a translation of an original Gaelic term: probably toisech, or 'toiseach', which is found along with mormaer in the Book of Deer, and was 'the lowest rank in the three-fold ruling hierarchy' of Scotland's kinbased society, being equivalent to the ruler of a tuath, the smallest local kingdom in Gaelic Ireland.35 The multiple estate apparently corresponds 28 APS, i. 663-5 (with later texts in Latin and Scots). See H. L. MacQueen, 'Linguistic Communities in Medieval Scots Law', in Communities and Courts in Britain, 1150-1900, ed. C. Brooks and M. Lobban (London, 1997), pp. 13-23, at 17-20, and Hudson, Kings of Celtic Scotland, p. 117. 29 Ruaidri, mormaer of Mar, and Colban, mormaer of Buchan, were earls of those provinces during the twelfth century: K. Jackson, The Gaelic Notes in the Book of Deer (Cambridge, 1972), p. 35; Lawrie, Early Scottish Charters, no. 74; RRS, ii, no. 197. 30 Jackson, Book of Deer, pp. 102-10. 31 As pointed out by Duncan, Making of the Kingdom, p. 107. 32 F. M. Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England (3rd edn, Oxford, 1971), pp. 487-91. 33 Barrow, Kingdom of the Scots, pp. 37-53; A. Grant, 'Thanes and Thanages, from the Eleventh to the Fourteenth Centuries', in Medieval Scotland: Crown, Lordship and Community, ed. A. Grant and K. J. Stringer (Edinburgh, 1993), pp. 39-81. 34 E.g. APS, i. 320, c. 16; 377, c. 20; 398, c. 2; RRS, ii, no. 281. 35 J. Bannerman, 'The Scots Language and the Kin-Based Society', in Gaelic and Scots in Harmony, ed. D. S. Thomson (Glasgow, 1990), pp. 1-19, at 6-7.

54

The Medieval State

to the tuath, and 'thane' would therefore correspond to toisech; later usage, in which 'thane' (in the sense of royal agent) was toisech in Gaelic,36 confirms this. That explains the inclusion of the thane's son and grandson in the 'Laws of the Brets and the Scots': they represent members of the toiseach's immediate kindred.37 And, since the royal manages were multiple estates, the double meaning of 'thane' in Scotland is easily understood; a thane or toiseach could be either the lord of a multiple estate or the person who ran one for the king. The operation of local lordship is illuminated by the Gaelic notes in the Book of Deer.3S In about half the grants that these record, the same pieces of land appear to have been given to Deer Abbey jointly by local toiseachs and by mormaers of Buchan; thus, presumably, the renders owed to the toiseachs, and the cain and conveth owed to the mormaer, were both being alienated.39 One territory, however, was given by a lord 'who was mormaer and was toiseach', and would have come from his own lands, rather than from those of the local toiseachs - or from their kindreds' land: references to toiseachs of 'Clann Channan' and 'Clann Morgain' are reminders of the importance of kinship. And there is a gift from a king, Malcolm II, of 'the king's dues' from two pieces of land, one which had already been granted by mormaer and toiseach, and one which was granted by a mormaer about a century later; this shows that the king's cain was separate from the other lords' dues. Most of the grants transferred land or renders, but some 'quenched' or freed Deer's property 'from mormaer and toiseach until Doomsday'; in other words, they removed all obligations, particularly, it seems, the provision of troops, which the toiseachs had to levy from their estates and bring to the mormaer's army of Buchan. The 'quenching' may also have given judicial exemptions; the abbey had its own 'cuthill' court for the new multiple estate formed by its lands.40 At a higher level, however, justice would have been overseen by the province's 'brithem' (Gaelic breitheam), who, as in Ireland, was a hereditary legal expert and upholder of the laws;41 'Mataidin brithem' is in one of five witness lists, and his sons are probably in two others.42 36

Grant, 'Thanes and Thanages', p. 42. The ogthiern would therefore have been a more distant member of a kin-group who had managed to maintain noble status rather than sink into the peasantry. 38 Jackson, Book of Deer, pp. 33-6, and subsequent commentary. 39 As is spelled out in one grant: 'Matain son of Cairell gave a mormaer's dues in Altrie, and Cu Li son of Baithin gave a toiseach's dues'. 40 In the sixteenth century one fermtoun near the abbey was called the mains of Cuthill: Illustrations of the Topography and Antiquities of the Shires of Aberdeen and Banff, ed. J. Robertson and G. Grub (4 vols, Spalding Club, 1847-69), iv. 27. 41 Barrow, Kingdom of the Scots, ch. 2; D. 6 Croinin, Early Medieval Ireland, 400-1200 (Harlow, 1995), pp. 76, 113. 42 Taking 'the two sons of Matne' and 'Gillandris mac Matni' to be sons of Mataidin. 37

The Construction of the Early Scottish State

55

A simple model for the local and regional structure of the early Scottish state can therefore be suggested. It would appear to have consisted of a network of multiple estates, which supported toiseachs and their kindreds, and were grouped into provinces under mormaers. These equate to the earldoms and earls of the Anglo-Norman era; hence Alba would have been divided into nine provinces: Atholl, Strathearn, Menteith, Fife, Gowrie, Angus, the Mearns, Mar and Buchan.43 Toiseachs, mormaers and kings would have lived off their respective renders and dues from the peasantry; and some renders would have gone to the church. The main functions of government, justice and defence, would have operated within this structure. Petty justice was done in the 'cuthill' courts, while disputes over land were settled by perambulations conducted by the provincial brithems.44 Hand-having thieves would no doubt have been dealt with summarily, presumably by local toiseachs.45 Those accused of cattle-rustling, however, could summon warrantors to testify for them at a certain place in each province.46 Oath-swearing was involved, and each province had at least one toiseachdeorto look after a holy object used for judicial purposes.47 As for interpersonal violence, it was meant to be settled through compensation payments (the cro of the 'Laws of the Brets and the Scots') to the victim or his kin; otherwise feud followed.48 It was up to the heads of the kins, and above them the mormaers, to enforce the compensation, which - since inter-personal violence is rarely a simple matter - may often have been worked out by the brithem.49 Major disputes may have been settled in large assemblies brought together by summoning the local army, as in the earliest recorded Scottish lawsuit heard in Fife in 1124 x 30.50 But, of course, the armies were chiefly for defence. As already said, every unit of land had to provide men (through church estates could be exempted), who 43 Angus, Mar and Buchan are recorded as having mormaers and earls; Atholl had a 'satrap' (i.e. mormaer) and earls; Fife, Strathearn, Menteith had earls; Gowrie is called an earldom; and the Mearns had a 'comes' (in 1094; presumably a mormaer). 44 Barrow, Kingdom of the Scots, p. 72. 45 Cf. APS, i. 377, c. 20, and RRS, ii. no. 152. 46 APS, i. 372-3; cf. Duncan, Making of the Kingdom, pp. 107-8; and H. L. MacQueen, 'Scots Law under Alexander III', in Scotland in the Reign of Alexander III, 1249-1286, ed. N. H. Reid (Edinburgh, 1990), pp. 74-102, at 88-90. 47 W. C. Dickinson, 'The Toschederach', Juridical Review, 52 (1941), 85-109; W. D. H. Sellar, 'Celtic Law and Scots Law: Survival and Integration', Scottish Studies, 29 (1989), 1-27, at 9-11. 48 J. Wormald, 'Bloodfeud, Kindred and Government in Early Modern Scotland', Past and Present, 77 (1980), 54-97. 49 That seems to have been a function of the Irish breitheam: K. Simms, From Kings to Warlords (Woodbridge, 1987), pp. 90-1. 50 Lawrie, Early Scottish Charters, no. 80; see below, p. 63.

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The Medieval State

would initially have been recruited by the toiseachs, and would have served under the mormaer in the army of the province - known later as the 'army of the earldom'.51 The system survived throughout the Anglo-Norman era, and is illuminated by an enactment of 1221 concerning absences from a northern hosting (though earls and thanes have replaced mormaers and toiseachs).52 If an earl's thanes or other men were absent, the earl and the king shared the fines; but fines from inhabitants of the lands of bishops, abbots, barons, knights, thanes or other crown tenants went to the king alone; and the earls were forbidden to levy fines on the lands of crown tenants. The fine from a defaulting thane on crown land belonged to the king; but in the cases of ogthierns (lesser landowners) or peasants, their superior thane or knight split the fine either with the king or with the king and the earl if they lived in an earldom. The last provision indicates the thane's or toiseach's responsibility for recruitment, but the main thrust was probably at the earls: the implication is that prior to 1221, earls and mormaers got the whole fines from their thanes or toiseachs and other men, and that they could punish anyone from the geographical area of their provinces, even on the lands of crown tenants. That is striking testimony to the role of the earls and mormaers as military leaders which is neatly highlighted by the earliest occurrence of mormaer., in an annal for 918 which said that 'neither king nor mormaer' was killed in a battle against the Norse.53 The implication of this model is that Alba was constructed out of the mormaers' provinces. That is certainly how it was viewed from the vantage point of the early thirteenth century. The description of Scotland north of the Forth called De situ Albanie., dating from 1202 x 14, related that 'this land was anciently divided by seven brothers into seven parts', each consisting of a kingdom and sub-kingdom: Angus with the Mearns, Atholl with Gowrie, Strathearn with Menteith, Fife with Fothrif,54 Mar with Buchan, Moray with Ross, and Caithness (north and south).55 Here the provinces are the fundamental building51 Jackson, Book of Deer, pp. 130-1; RRS, ii. 56-7; Duncan, Making of the Kingdom, pp. iio-n, 378-85; A. Grant, 'Aspects of National Consciousness in Medieval Scotland', in Bj0rn, Grant and Stringer, Nations, Nationalism and Patriotism, pp. 68-95, at 88-91. 52 APS, i. 398, c. 2. 53 Anderson, Early Sources, i. 407. 54 Fothrif is an old name for west Fife and Kinross: Watson, Celtic Place-Names, p. 114. 55 Anderson, Early Sources, i, pp. cxv-cxvii; D. Broun, 'The Seven Kingdoms in De situ Albanie: A Record of Pictish Political Geography or Imaginary Map of Ancient Alba?', forthcoming. I am most grateful to Dr Broun for giving me a copy of this article in advance of publication. Albania is a direct Latinization of Alba.

The Construction of the Early Scottish State

57

blocks of the kingdom of Scotland north of the Forth (though fitted into a sevenfold division of Pictland that is no more valid than the AngloSaxon heptarchy).56 On the other hand, when De situ Albanie was being written, the actual political geography of northern Scotland was very different from that implied in the model - as the map (pi. I, p. 59) demonstrates.57 There were no earls or earldoms in Gowrie and the Mearns, nor, to the north, in Moray and Ross (which were forfeited following rebellion against David I in 1130); the earldom of Angus contained little territory; and the rest of the earldoms hardly constituted contiguous divisions of the country. Between Mar and Buchan, a new 'provincial lordship' of Garioch had been created out of crown property for William I's brother, David, earl of Huntingdon;58 otherwise, most of the territory outside the earldoms consisted of knights' feus acquired by Anglo-Normans, of ecclesiastical property, and of many estates in the king's own possession. The provincial model of the state's construction is seriously oversimplified, at least for the early thirteenth century. Does that also apply to the early Scottish state, before the AngloNorman era? Consider, for a start, the provinces of Fife and Gowrie. During the twelfth century, the earls' lands were only in Fife itself, not in the associated region of Fothrif to the west; but Fife also contained the property of the bishops of St Andrews, the lands of Leuchars, Crail, Ardross and Kennoway, and four royal estates of Falkland, Kingskettle, Dairsie and Kellie.59 As for Fothrif, it was mostly royal or ecclesiastical territory.60 This landholding pattern goes back to David I, and must have been older. After all, the earls of Fife were staunch crown supporters: it is inconceivable that any twelfth-century king would have deprived them of their land (two royal estates in Fife were in fact given to Earl Duncan by Malcolm IV).61 The eleventh-century province of Fife must already have been divided between the earl or mormaer (who had less than half), and other lords, especially the king. A similar division is revealed for Gowrie in a charter of Malcolm IV referring to his revenue 'from all my manors of Gowrie, both of the 56

Which is no doubt why in the Anglo-Norman era the earldoms and the rank of earl were essentially restricted to native families. 57 Based on the material mapped in Atlas of Scottish History to 1707, pp. 184-5, 202-6 (by K. J. Stringer and A. Grant), and Grant, 'Thanes and Thanages', p. 44. 58 K. J. Stringer, Earl David of Huntingdon, 1152-1219 (Edinburgh, 1985), pp. 60-7. 59 See, e.g., RRS, i. 41-2, 48; ii. 50, 211, 337-8; Grant, 'Thanes and Thanages', p. 80. 60 Royal property lay around Kinross, and along the Forth, in the hinterland of Inverkeithing and Kinghorn; ecclesiastical landowners included Dunfermline Abbey (founded by Malcolm III) and the older abbey/bishopric of Dunkeld, the 'culdees' of Lochleven, and the (eventually laicized) Celtic abbey of Abernethy: Grant, 'Thanes and Thanages', p. 80; RRS, i. 41, 167; ii, no. 152; Lawrie, Early Charters, nos 3, 5, 8, 209; Barrow, Kingdom of the Scots, pp. 42-4, 51. 61 Grant, 'Thanes and Thanages', p. 80, nos 66-7.

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The Medieval State

earldom and of my regality'; thus although the earldom was in crown hands, the large royal manors of Scone, Strathardle, Coupar Angus and Longforgan were separate. It is not known when Gowrie went to the crown, but it must have been before Alexander Fs reign; and whenever it happened, the mormaers of Gowrie could not, previously, have had much of the province.62 More generally, the crown lands shown on the map - including those in Fife and Gowrie - are the territories known later as 'manages'. These were run for the kings by agents known as thanes, who appear to have been drawn from the local kindreds and to have been assigned the 'thane's toun', without necessarily having hereditary and proprietorial rights in the manages;63 this is the usage of 'thane' as king's man mentioned above. Records from the twelfth to the fourteenth centuries yield the names of sixty-five royal manages, spread across eastern and central Scotland from Haddington north to Dingwall; only two lay south of the Forth, fifty-one were in Alba and eleven were in Moray, while Dingwall was north of the Moray Firth.64 All were multiple estates, and in the 12605 the renders from some of them were called 'waiting', the English equivalent of conveth (which is actually what two manages were called);65 while almost all the individual thanes found in the sources have Gaelic names.66 Such points make it inconceivable that the manages were created ab initio by the Normanizing kings of the twelfth century; they must have been royal estates dating from before the Anglo-Norman era. The heavy concentration of manages in Angus and the Mearns (where the mormaer's land was probably confiscated in c. 1097) indicates that those provinces were like Fife and Gowrie: along the entire east-midland plain from the Forth to the River Dee (at Aberdeen), the kings' property would have been far more extensive than the mormaers'. And although inland and to the north a much higher proportion of Strathearn, Menteith, Atholl, Mar and Buchan belonged to the earls and hence to the mormaers before them, all except the small Menteith also contained significant numbers of manages on 62

Alexander I had a residence at Invergowrie, 'And all the land lyand by / Wes hys demyd than halyly': Andrew of Wyntoun, The Orygynale Cronykil of Scotland, ed. D. Laing (3 vols, Edinburgh, 1872-9), i. 174. He gave ten territories throughout Gowrie to Scone Priory: Lawrie, Early Scottish Charters, no. 36. If these came from the royal manors, where were the earldom lands? Part of Gowrie also belonged to Abernethy: RRS,u, no. 152. 63 Grant, 'Thanes and Thanages', pp. 40-2, 56-9; cf. Thainstone in Kintore thanage. 64 Ibid., appendix, pp. 72-81. There were also six thanages belonging to earldoms. 65 The Exchequer Rolls of Scotland, ed. J. Stuart et al. (23 vols, Edinburgh, 1878-1908), i. 6, 12, 16; Grant, 'Thanes and Thanages', appendix, nos 17, 34. 66 E.g. Mac-bethad and Mael-muire, thanes of Falkland and Kellie in Fife in David Fs reign; and thirteen others: ibid., appendix, nos 4, 10, 12, 28, 44, 47, 61, 63-4, 66, 68-9, 70 (three names). A significant exception is Swain of Longforgan: no. 52.

The Construction of the Early Scottish State

i. Provinces and Royal Thanages in the Early Scottish State

59

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The Medieval State

the fringes and even within the earls' own territories. As well as being divided into provinces., therefore, the kingdom of Alba also had a twopart territorial structure, in which the mormaers possessed only one part. Detailed analysis of this structure is impossible in the absence of a Scottish Domesday Book, but an impression of the balance within it can be formed by looking at the parishes of thirteenth-century Scotland. At the end of the century, the old area of Alba (from the Forth to the edge of Moray) contained 341 parishes. Of these, only some 108 (32 per cent) were within the bounds of the earldoms shown on the map.67 The parishes differed greatly in size, but the variations in population or resources would have been less, and probably evened out across the country as a whole. This suggests that as much as two-thirds of Alba would have been outside the lands of the mormaers, at any rate in the late eleventh and early twelfth centuries. How much of that was crown land is difficult to say. There were at least fifty-one royal manages in Alba, and all seem to have covered one or more parishes. Thus a reasonable estimate for the extent of the crown lands in that period, as represented by the thanages, would be between fifty and a hundred parishes; since some crown lands were not called thanages, while others were given to the church by the kings from Malcolm III to William I, the upper estimate is more likely. Moreover, during the tenth century the kings of Alba made inroads in Lothian, gaining Edinburgh by c. 96o.68 Thereafter, northern Lothian, perhaps as far as the most southerly royal thanage at Haddington, seems also to have contained large amounts of crown land - adding perhaps another twenty to thirty parishes.69 It thus seems safe to conclude that in the early Scottish state, during the eleventh century, the crown lands would have been significantly larger than those of all the mormaers put together.70 Within the dual territorial structure, the thanages' importance is twofold. First, obviously, they supported the crown economically. In 67 Data from D. E. R. Watt et al., 'Parish Churches about 1300', in Atlas of Scottish History to 1707, pp. 347-60, taking Alba to be the dioceses of St Andrews (north of the Forth), Dunblane, Dunkeld (north of the Forth), Brechin, Aberdeen, and the Strathbogie deanery of Moray. The figures for parishes in earldoms are my tentative assessment. This, of course, is only a guide; the parish structure was twelfth- and thirteenth-century. 68 Hudson, 'Scottish Chronicle', pp. 151, 159. 69 That is a conservative estimate, allowing fewer than half the sixty or so parishes in this region to the crown. Crown lands would have included Callendar and Haddington thanages, and the 'shires' of Stirling, Linlithgow and Edinburgh; cf. RRS, i. 36-7. 70 The biggest earldoms in terms of parishes, Fife and Mar, probably contained twenty-eight and twenty-four respectively; but some of these would have been held by tenants of the earldom, or, earlier, by toiseachs under the mormaers. Strathearn probably had twenty parishes, Buchan fourteen, Atholl eleven, Menteith perhaps six and Angus three or four.

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1263-4 me waitings, or conveth, from the thanages of Forfar and Glamis amounted to 37% cattle, 75 pigs, 291 chickens, 960 eels, over 8 tons of cheese, 291 chickens, 32 chalders (each about a ton) of malt, 10 chalders of barley meal, and about 80 chalders of fodder; the total market value was about £8o.71 These thanages were supposed to provide three-and-a-half nights' waitings, so a year of waitings might have produced around £7500-8500 - surprisingly close to the likely income of the thirteenth-century Scottish crown.72 That does not imply a system of 365 waitings, but suggests that a proportion of the kings' annual maintenance was once assigned to the royal estates on a regularized basis. The thirteenth-century values of twenty-two of the thanages (whose rents, cain and conveth were by then paid in cash) are also known;73 they average around £75 per manage, which means that the sixty-five royal thanages would have been worth, in all, nearly £5000, and those within Alba some £3800. By comparison, Fife, probably the richest earldom, was valued at £432 gross in 1295, and the net revenue from the much smaller Angus was only £80 in I263.74 Thus the contrast between the crown lands and the earldoms is even greater in terms of income than in terms of parishes, possibly because much of the earldoms' rents would have gone to lairds who held land from the earls. And although the cash figures from the thirteenth century do not, of course, apply to the early Scottish state, the conclusion about the relative economic resources of kings and mormaers presumably does while the cain which the kings received from lands which were not their own possessions (and which the kings' thanes may well have collected in the various provinces) should presumably be added in. Secondly, the size of the king's revenues compared with the mormaers' must have meant that the kings were much more powerful as is perhaps reflected in the 'Laws of the Brets and the Scots', where the king's cro was 1000 cattle and the mormaer's was only I5O.75 In other words, the thanages contributed to royal power as much as to finance. One aspect of this was that they gave the kings power bases throughout and beyond Alba. Kingship in the early Scottish state was 71 Exchequer Rolls of Scotland, i. 6-7, 49-50. The details come from poor seventeenthcentury summaries of account rolls for 1263-6 and 1288-90, which were presumably missed when the rest of the financial records, including thanes' accounts, were taken to England; unfortunately the originals of these rolls were subsequently lost, probably in 1660. 72 Grant, 'Thanes and Thanages', pp. 48-9, 61-3. 73 For individual figures, see Grant, 'Thanes and Thanages', appendix, nos 13-22, 24, 37-8, 40, 47, 49, 53, 56, 64-5, 69-70. 74 Fife: Documents Illustrative of the History of Scotland, 1286-1306, ed. J. Stevenson (2 vols, Edinburgh, 1870), i. 407-18. Angus, Exchequer Rolls of Scotland, i. 9 (which also gives a net income of £60 for Tannadice, one of the province's thanages). 75 APS, L 663.

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peripatetic, and on their circuits the kings not only consumed their local renders and hunted in the surrounding countryside,76 but also, from the thanages, would have been able to assert their authority personally within the various provinces. As the map shows, the thanages provided a set of 'stepping-stones' for royal progresses round and beyond Alba. One such progress can be seen, later, in Alexander Ill's journey in 1264 to Inverness via the thanages of Aberdeen, Kintore and 'Rathenach' on the Spey, which can be traced in the surviving exchequer accounts; and he was also at 'Rathenach' in 1261.77 Alexander's progresses, however, took him through Moray as well as Alba. The Moray thanages are significant, because they presumably antedate Moray's forfeiture to David I in 1130. Who, then, established them? One answer would be the earlier kings of Moray, before it came under Alba's superiority. But it has been convincingly argued that after 1130 the lands of the rebel mormaer or earl were used to endow the followers of David I and his successors, while the thanages mostly stayed in royal hands.78 Thus these royal thanages would not have been part of the mormaer's possessions in the early twelfth century. They must have been established by one of the kings of Alba at an earlier stage of their dealings with Moray: perhaps Malcolm III in the later eleventh century, perhaps even Malcolm II some fifty years earlier.79 Whoever was responsible, creating these outposts of crown lands on the edge of the Moray Firth and indeed beyond Moray, at Dingwall in Ross after Norse control retreated in the far north - was a significant act of royal power, which strikingly illuminates the policy of the kings of Alba towards the provinces during the eleventh century. From the above, it is possible to construct a different, 'royal', model of the early Scottish state, to balance the provincial model outlined earlier. It would be one in which the king possessed unrivalled resources and maintained an active royal presence throughout the provinces by means of the thanages. King's thanes or toiseachs would have run these, and would also have helped to levy the cain or taxation owed from other territories - including the lands of the mormaers. Moreover, since the literal meaning of mormaer is 'great steward', the mormaers, too, would be regarded as royal agents, whose function would have been to control the provinces on behalf of the crown; the provincial armies which they led 76

See Grant, 'Thanes and Thanages', pp. 63-4, for forests associated with thanages. Exchequer Rolls of Scotland, i. 12, 14; APS, i. 99. The journey from Aberdeen to 'Rathenach' would have been through the thanages of Formartine and Aberchirder. At Inverness, Kinmylies on the west bank of the Ness was a thanage, and possibly represents the residue of a bigger thanage of Inverness before the royal burgh was created there. 78 G. W. S. Barrow, 'Badenoch and Strathspey, 1130-1312, i: Secular and Political', Northern Scotland, 8 (1988), 1-15, at 2-3. 79 Or, possibly, Macbeth, in between them; though he took Alba over from Moray. 77

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were the king's, while the justice which they and the provincial brithems supervised was the kingdom's. Thus, although the early Scottish state had a two-part territorial structure, both parts would, directly or indirectly, have been subject to the king's authority, in what can be considered an effectively organized state. The account of the lawsuit of 1124 x 30 gives a glimpse of the organization in operation. When the culdees of Lochleven were disputing the boundaries of Kirkness (granted them by Macbeth and his queen) with Sir Robert the Burgundian, they sought justice from David I, and 'the king . . . sent his messengers through the province of Fife and Fothrif, and summoned a multitude of men . . . namely Constantine, Earl of Fife . . . with officers and followers and the army of Fife, and Mac-bethad thane of Falkland, and the chiefs and leaders and commanders of the army of the bishop'; sworn testimony was given; and judgement was made by Dubgall mac Mocche, as the senior of three judices or brithems present.80 It was a royal summons, and although the earl was in charge of the army of Fife, the thane of probably the main thanage in the province was there to represent the king (the separate army of the bishop should also be noted). There is no reason to suppose that this kind of procedure would not have been employed in previous centuries; and through it, royal authority would have been upheld - at least, that is, in theory. But whether or not the political practice corresponded to the theory remains to be considered. Exploration of the political dynamics of the early Scottish state will begin with the royal thanes and thanages. The terminology - including 'waiting' for the hospitality dues, and 'shire', often used for the land of a thanage and, indeed, for any multiple estate - is distinctly English; that reflects borrowing from Northumbria via Lothian.81 There is no evidence that this happened before David Fs reign, though it is not impossible, because there had been considerable English influence under Malcolm III, and even perhaps since the annexation of Lothian. Whatever the case, the institution itself is unlikely to have been copied directly from eleventh- or twelfth-century England, because the Scottish king's thane was significantly different to the English king's thegn.82 Moreover, what were subsequently called thanages are not found in Lothian or Strathclyde, except for Haddington and Callendar. Lawrie, Early Scottish Charters., no. 80. Just as, conversely, the Gaelic for waiting appears in Northumbria as coneveis: Barrow, Scotland and its Neighbours, pp. 117, 147. 82 The king's thegns in late Anglo-Saxon England were either significant private landowners in their own rights, or subordinate agents, several to each unit of land, below the main royal manager or reeve (who was more like the Scottish thane); see, e.g, D. Roffe, 'From Thegnage to Barony', Anglo-Norman Studies, 12 (1989), 157-76; idem, 'Domesday Book and Northern Society: A Reassessment', EHR, 105 (1990), 310-36, at 329-31. 80 81

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This implies that they were a specifically Scottish institution, which was characteristic of Alba but was also established south of the Forth during the early stages of Scottish expansion there, in the later tenth century. On the other hand, there is a much older English parallel, in the villae regiae or 'royal vills' mentioned by Bede. In James Campbell's analysis, these are multiple estates where the renders belonged to the king83 just as with the Scottish thanages, though the latter were probably smaller.84 But the equivalents of these royal vills can also be found in Wales.85 Presumably, therefore, they represent a way to organize rural lordship that goes back to the ancient British kingdoms. Thus what became the Scottish thanages would have originated with the Picts, who were the Britons' northern heirs86 - as is confirmed by the fact that there seems to have been no equivalent to the villae regiae in Ireland and Dal Riata, the Gaelic parts of the British Isles.87 That is highly significant for the political dynamics. It has been pointed out that the absence of royal centres for the delivery of food renders probably goes far towards explaining the high degree of fragmentation in Ireland and early Dal Riata.88 Conversely, their existence would have helped to promote political unity. Where the kings possessed royal vills and hence extensive resources, their rivals would have had a strong incentive to gain them for themselves, instead of asserting their independence - as in the case of Macbeth. Political conflicts were therefore more likely to have a centripetal than a centrifugal effect. Now unity, or at least cohesion rather than fragmentation, is a longterm theme of Pictish history, evident in its earliest recorded event when the northern tribes under a single leader opposed Agricola at Mons Graupius in AD 83; thereafter, witness their coalescence into the Caledonii and Maeatae of Dio Cassius, the Dicalydones and Verturiones of Ammianus Marcellinus and the northern and southern Picts of Bede, or the creation of southern Pictish hegemonies by Onuist son of Uurguist in the mid-eighth century and Constantine son of Uurguist in the early ninth.89 But Pictish unity must not be exaggerated; for Campbell, Essays, pp. 108-16; cf. pp. 95-6. Barrow, Kingdom of the Scots, pp. 39-40. 85 W. Rees, 'Survivals of Ancient Celtic Custom in Medieval England', in Angles and Saxons, ed. H. Lewis (Cardiff, 1963), pp. 148-68; G. R. J. Jones, 'Multiple Estates and Early Settlement', in Medieval Settlement, ed. P. H. Sawyer (London, 1979), pp. 9-34. 86 Fifty of the seventy-one thanages listed in Grant, 'Thanes and Thanages', appendix, are at places which occur in Watson, Celtic Place-Names; of these, twenty-four seem to be P-Celtic (though I may have underestimated). Cf. Barrow, Kingdom of the Scots, p. 58. 87 T. Charles-Edwards, 'Early Medieval Kingships in the British Isles', in The Origins of Anglo-Saxon Kingdoms, ed. S. Bassett (Leicester, 1989), pp. 28-39, esp. 38-9. 88 Ibid., p. 39. 89 Duncan, Making of the Kingdom., pp. 25, 36-7, 54-5; D. Broun, 'Pictish Kings 761-839: Integration with Dal Riata or Separate Development?', in The St Andrews Sarcophagus, ed. S. M. Foster (Dublin, 1998), pp. 71-83. 83 84

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instance, the early groupings no doubt included subordinate tribes. Most significantly, although the southern and northern Picts probably had single kings, it has recently been stressed that these must have followed the common Dark Age practice of ruling extended territories by allocating parts of them as sub-kingdoms to their kinsmen, who, in order to maintain overall unity, were eligible for the kingship of the confederation; that is the best way to make sense of the fact that until the late eighth century no Pictish king was the son of a previous king.90 Power struggles in this system would have been centripetal, too - a bitter conflict for the overall succession between three lineages of subkings can be seen in the yzos91 - but most of the villae regiae would presumably have been used to maintain the sub-kings on their local circuits, rather than the main kings of the northern and southern Picts.92 In that case, the crucial stage in the construction of the early Scottish state must have been the transition from this system of regional power to one in which the land of the provinces was only partly held by the provincial rulers, and in which the villae regiae were used to support the central king and were run by his local officers - in other words, the twopart territorial structure outlined above. One aspect of the transition is obviously the change in terminology for the provincial ruler, from 'king' to mormaer or 'great steward'. It seems fairly straightforward in the case of the province (and later earldom) of Atholl, which had a sub-king in 739 and a satrapas - which clearly means mormaer - in 965.93 Unfortunately, Atholl is the only Pictish sub-kingdom named in the sources; but it is reasonable to assume that the rest of the provinces of Alba had similar origins, though the correspondence may not have been so exact. Mormaer itself is probably P-Celtic in derivation, and the concept might perhaps be Pictish.94 But its first recorded occurrence is under the year 918, which is not long after the earliest usage of Alba. The latter represents a conscious change of terminology for the kingdom; so it is unlikely to be a coincidence that a new term (whatever its derivation) for the provincial rulers that stresses their subordination appears at much the same time. A. Woolf, 'Pictish Matriliny Reconsidered', Innes Review, 49 (1998), 147-67, esp. 156-8. The group of eligible kinsmen would have been particularly wide, because Pictish society, as opposed to Anglo-Saxon or Gaelic, allowed inheritance through females. Mr Woolf suggests that this derives from earlier British practice which may have been influenced by a change in Roman law under Marcus Aurelius (161-80); but the examples of Boudicca and Cartimandua suggest that women always did have inheritance rights in the early British tribes. 91 Hudson, Kings of Celtic Scotland, pp. 23-8. 92 Cf. Charles-Edwards, 'Early Medieval Kingships', pp. 31-3. 93 Anderson, Early Sources, i. 236; Hudson, 'Scottish Chronicle', pp. 143, 151, 159. 94 Jackson, Book of Deer, pp. 102-10. 90

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In political terms, however., more importance attaches to the succession practices of Kenneth mac Alpin's lineage. Until 1034, with one exception, the kings were drawn alternately from its two or (971-1005) three senior agnatic branches; and they were all the sons of kings. This contrasts with the Pictish succession, and when that was regarded by scholars as strictly matrilineal, then it was believed that Kenneth introduced a totally new system. But it has now been shown that with Pictish kings succession through females was only a possibility, not a rule;95 in that case the mac Alpin system may not have been so different.96 The exception mentioned above was the succession of Eochaid, son of Kenneth's daughter, in 879. And although Malcolm II (1005-34) is usually believed to have changed the rules so that his daughter's son Duncan could succeed, that, again, was not unacceptable by the Pictish rules.97 Thus the mac Alpin kings may not have operated a new system, but simply have tightened 'normal' practice by ensuring that the succession usually went to the senior collateral rather than to any adult kinsman. Be that as it may, the succession practices of the mac Alpin kings must have had very significant political consequences. If most of the provincial rulers were no longer eligible for the kingship, then their status would have declined; that would tally with the introduction of the term mormaer. Conversely, the head of the senior collateral branch who may have been the tdnaiste, or designated successor98 - would have had a much higher status. And that must surely have been reflected in his landed resources; otherwise he would have been unable to mount a successful challenge for the throne, either against his predecessor or after the latter's death.99 In other words, for the system of alternating segments to work, these must have possessed extensive territory and power bases. This must have contributed to the main political theme of the period, namely the violent removal of the kings, which happened to twelve out of Kenneth mac Alpin's twenty successors down to the end of the eleventh century.100 On the other hand, the existence of two or 95

Woolf, 'Pictish Matriliny Reconsidered'. For accounts of the kings, see Hudson, Kings of Celtic Scotland, chs 2-5. 97 As, therefore, was the subsequent succession of Macbeth, through his wife Gruoch, probably a grand-daughter of Kenneth III, and that of her son, Lulach, after Macbeth. 98 Duncan, Making of the Kingdom, pp. 112-13; Sellar, 'Celtic Law and Scots Law', pp. 13-14; cf. 6 Croinin, Early Medieval Ireland, pp. 67-9. 99 Perhaps lands, or an appanage, were set aside for the tdnaiste, in the way that Malcolm II's grandson Duncan was given Strathclyde. The concept of the 'tanistry lands' was certainly known in later centuries: Sellarx'Celtic Law and Scots Law', p. 14. 100 These appear to have been killed by their subjects, probably or certainly in favour of their successors. Two others were removed by their successors; five were killed by external enemies; and only the reigns of Kenneth mac Alpin himself and his brother Donald I ended in natural deaths (Kenneth from cancer). 96

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three powerful kindreds all in competition for the throne must have helped to draw the kingdom of Alba together. Moreover, the mormaers would have had to have taken sides in the power struggles, and could have been displaced if they where on the losing side. Something like that may have happened in Buchan, where at least two different kindreds of mormaers can be found in the notes in the Book of Deer.101 Also, four mormaers are recorded as fighting in Ireland;102 were they exiles from Alba? Thus the contests for the crown probably had the effect of gradually strengthening royal power at the mormaers' expense. In addition, mormaers were not necessarily any more secure than kings; they would always have been vulnerable to challenges from rival members of their kindreds, and their deaths would have been followed by succession disputes. In those circumstances, kings could easily play off rival, would-be mormaers against each other, which, again, would have enhanced royal power. And if that was happening, then the likelihood is that successful kings would have taken more and more of the 'royal vills' - the villae regiae or, later, manages in the provinces for themselves; or, perhaps, would have turned ordinary multiple estates into royal ones. Thus territory, resources, and hence power are likely to have flowed gradually from the mormaers to the kings of Alba. This is, of course, another hypothetical model. But a political narrative that seems to correspond to it does exist, albeit north of the original Alba, in the crown's dealings with Moray and Ross. In the tenth century, Moray appears to have been a separate kingdom, but internal conflict in the I02OS seems to have enabled Malcolm II to assert his kingship over it; the conflict's eventual victor, Macbethad mac Findlaich (Macbeth) was Malcolm's protege, and the kings of Moray became mormaers.103 Subsequently, Macbeth seized the throne of Alba, but he and his stepson Lulach were killed by Malcolm III in 1057-8, and in 1078 Malcolm asserted his power over Lulach's son Mael-Snechta, who may have called himself king of Moray but was at most only mormaer.104 During this period, the mormaer's lands would have contracted, because either Malcolm II or Malcolm III established eleven royal manages in what was now the province.105 Then, in 1130, Moray was confiscated, following 101

The kindred of the mormaer Muiredach mac Morgain was later Claim Morgain, under a toiseach, when the descendants of Cainnech mac meic Dobarcon (clearly a different kindred) were mormaers: Jackson, Book of Deer, pp. 33-5. 102 Ibid., pp. 103-4; Anderson, Early Sources, i. 480, 536. One, in 976, was Donnchad mac Morgain; was that when the change of kindred in Buchan happened? 103 Anderson, Early Sources, L 551, 571; Hudson, Kings of Celtic Scotland, pp. 118-19, J 34~9 (though I would take the titles in the Irish annals less literally); cf. above, note 10. 104 Hudson, Kings of Celtic Scotland, pp. 138-46; Scottish Annals from English Chroniclers, ed. Anderson, p. 100; Anderson, Early Sources, ii. 46. 105 Grant, 'Thanes and Thanages', appendix, nos 2-12. These probably had a

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the rebellion of Earl Oengus of Moray, son of Lulach's daughter.106 David I perhaps gave it to William fitz Duncan, son of his eldest brother Duncan II (1094) and thus the senior descendant of Malcolm III.107 William never claimed the throne, but his descendants 'the MacWilliams' did, mounting repeated rebellions in Moray and Ross; as these were defeated, so loyal landowners were installed in Moray and eventually in Ross.108 The process is frustratingly illustrated by an entry in the inventory of the royal documents lost after 1296: 'Item, one roll of twelve membranes of recognitions and old charters of the time of King William and King Alexander his son [concerning?] those to whom the said kings formerly gave their peace, and those who stood with MacWilliam'.109 A combination of local and, more significantly, national, politics had steadily (if at times with great difficulty) brought Moray and Ross under crown control. Admittedly, the confiscation of Moray and the subsequent rebellions took place during the Anglo-Norman era. It is possible, however, to see earlier parallels, in the provinces which (as has been seen) were wholly or largely in the crown's possession in the early twelfth century.110 In 1094, for instance, Duncan II was killed by the mormaer of the Mearns, on behalf of Duncan's uncle and rival Donald III ban.111 Thereafter, the Mearns was mostly in royal hands; it had surely been confiscated when Edgar seized the crown from Donald ban. But the crown also possessed the earldom of Gowrie; this must also have been confiscated, though there is no way of telling when. And although the earldom of Angus was held by earls, they had very little territory; surely, therefore, at some time much of the province of Angus had been taken over by a king. Then there is Fife. Here, the twelfthcentury earls were descendants of King Dub, who seem to have been excluded from the succession by Dub's nephew Malcolm II, and to have been compensated with the earldom of Fife112 - which Malcolm strategic significance. Fochabers and 'Rathenech' were on either side of the main crossing of the Spey (used by Edward I's army in 1296: Barrow, Kingdom of the Scots, pp. 47-9)5 and Kinmylies is at the crossing of the River Ness at Inverness; in between, Kilmalemnock is on the Lossie, Brodie and Dyke are close to the Findhorn, and Cawdor is on the Nairn. The crown would thus have had agents at crossings on all the main rivers in Moray. I am most grateful to my wife for this suggestion. Called 'earl' in Scottish and English sources, but 'king' in the Annals of Ulster. Anderson, Early Sources, ii. 173-4. 107 RRS, ii. 12-13. 108 Duncan, Making of the Kingdom, pp. 193-8. 109 APS, 1.114. 110 Above, pp. 57-8. 111 Anderson, Early Sources, ii. 87-90, where comes is a Latinization of mormaer. 112 J. Bannerman, 'MacDuff of Fife', in Grant and Stringer, Medieval Scotland, pp. 20-38, at 22-5. 106

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could only have done if the previous line of mormaers had been removed. Finally, Atholl may have belonged to a brother of Malcolm III;113 if so, how and when had it come to the royal family? Although it is only possible to glimpse what happened with the Mearns, each case is probably an example of the assertion of royal power over the provinces. That may have happened only in the eleventh century; the reign of Malcolm II (1005-34) appears to be as far back as it is possible to go. This is perhaps appropriate, in view of the story in the late fourteenthcentury chronicle of John of Fordun that under Malcolm II 'almost the whole kingdom was divided up into manages'.114 Malcolm was a successful and powerful king who greatly extended the kingdom, and removed rivals to his grandson's succession;115 so it is not unlikely that he significantly increased the number of what were later the royal manages, which is what perhaps lies behind Fordun's story. On the other hand, Malcolm II's father, Kenneth II (971-95) was also powerful and successful, and 'it is he who gave the great monastery of Brechin to the Lord'.116 Kenneth probably gave Brechin a considerable endowment in Angus, including the large territory of Glenesk,117 but none of it appears to have been inside any of the province's numerous manages; therefore it presumably came from other territory, perhaps at the expense of the local mormaer. Moreover, Kenneth II is said to have been killed at Fettercairn in the Mearns, 'through the treachery of Finella, the daughter of Cunthar, earl [mormaer] of Angus. This Finella's only son had been killed by the aforesaid Kenneth.'118 Thus Kenneth was no doubt in conflict with the mormaers of Angus and the Mearns. So, probably, was his son Malcolm II, who was killed at Glamis in Angus, possibly after a battle there. Also, Kenneth's father, Malcolm I (c. 943-54), and his father, Donald II (c. 889-900), were killed in the Mearns.119 The reason why this segment of the royal kindred found Angus and the Mearns so fatal is probably that their own sphere of influence was much further west, in the region of Atholl, Strathearn and Dunkeld Abbey, to which they seem closely tied. On the other hand, the main rival segment of Constantine II (c. 900-43) and his descendants appears to have had its sphere of influence in or near Fife, and to have been linked with St Andrews Cathedral, which Duncan, Making of the Kingdom, p. 165. John of Fordun, Chronica Gentis Scotorum, ed. W. F. Skene (2 vols, Edinburgh, 1871-2), i. 186. 115 Hudson, Kings of Celtic Scotland, p. 120. 116 Hudson, 'Scottish Chronicle', pp. 151, 161. 117 Barrow, Scotland and its Neighbours, pp. 111-13. 118 Anderson, Early Sources, i. 512. 119 Hudson, Kings of Celtic Scotland, pp. 60, 88, 120-1; Hudson, 'Scottish Chronicle', p. 158; Anderson, Early Sources, i. 573. 113 114

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included most of the parishes in Angus and the Mearns in its diocese.120 Dunkeld and St Andrews were the two main churches of early Scotland, and, with respective devotions to St Columba and St Andrew, were rivals;121 this can probably be related to the political rivalries of the two sets of kings. Thus there seems to have been an east-west split in Alba between the royal segments' spheres of influence. That would explain why Kenneth II might have wished to take over territory in Angus and the Mearns, and why it may have cost him his life. More generally, it reveals a political situation in which Angus and the Mearns were a problem for several of the most powerful kings of the period - and the same might be said of the neighbouring province of Gowrie as well. These are the political circumstances in which, it was suggested above, more and more territories were likely to have come into the crown's possession. But for that to be effective, agents were of course needed to run these territories for successive kings - thus producing the royal thanes and manages of later record. In that way, the crucial stage in the construction of the early Scottish state would appear to have come about, giving the two-part territorial and governmental structure that was described earlier in this essay. As will have become evident, the process cannot be attributed to any one particular king; it was really the result of Alba's political dynamics. But three points are worth adding in conclusion. First, although Donald II, Malcolm I, Kenneth II and Malcolm II all found Angus and the Mearns so deadly, it was their line which was eventually to make the kingdom its own, through Malcolm III and his descendants;122 thus it is hardly surprising that the Mearns, Gowrie and so much of Angus finished up as royal territory. Secondly, if, as seems most likely, the royal resources were already growing steadily in the tenth century, that would explain the ability of the eleventh-century kings, especially Malcolm II, to acquire and retain so much territory outside Alba itself. And thirdly, the construction that was the early Scottish state was not replaced overnight when the AngloNorman era began. It did, of course, evolve; but throughout the twelfth, thirteenth and even fourteenth centuries, its main characteristics - the kingship itself, the two-part structure of crown lands and earldoms, the use of local landowners as royal agents, the thanages, and the basic Hudson, 'Kings and Church in Early Scotland', pp. 164-5; Hudson, Kings of Celtic Scotland, p. 63 (but I am unconvinced that Donald IPs line was based in the Mearns). 121 Hudson, 'Kings and Church in Early Scotland', pp. 154-66. 122 Though, strictly speaking, a female line, through the daughter of Malcolm II. Since she was married to the abbot of Dunkeld, the Dunkeld and 'western' connection of Donald II's segment of the royal kindred would have continued and, if anything, have been strengthened. 120

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systems for crown finance, defence and justice - all continued to operate. The early Scottish state was a permanent construction, whose legacy was as important for Scotland's subsequent history as the much better-known legacy of the Anglo-Saxon state was for England's.123 123

I am most grateful to Dr Dauvit Broun for his kindness in reading a draft of this essay and discussing it with me.

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4 Observations upon a Scene in the Bayeux Tapestry., the Battle of Hastings and the Military System of the Late Anglo-Saxon State M. K. LAWSON If a relative plethora of sources provides more evidence on the battle of Hastings than any other event in Anglo-Saxon history, there is surprisingly little of which we can be certain.* The numbers involved, the extent of the initial deployment, the tactics employed and the course of the fighting are all to a greater or lesser degree unclear, and much more debatable than the secondary literature has often been prepared to admit. As a depiction of a conflict which lasted for most of a midOctober day, for example, the Bayeux Tapestry is an inadequate record. Probably inclined to overstress the role of cavalry, it does not show the French mailed infantry mentioned by William of Poitiers,1 and offers only a limited range of scenes: Duke William's horsemen charge the English shield-wall, other infantry fighting in loose order (including Fang Harold's brothers), and a third group defending a hillock; William proves that he is still alive while his archers advance in the lower border, where, as the dead are stripped, further attacks on scattered Englishmen in the scenes above precede the death of Harold and the pursuit of his defeated army. Nevertheless, the Tapestry is a fascinating source: almost certainly seen by, and probably produced for, participants in the battle,2 such details as it offers of the fighting and of military methods and equipment seem likely to be reasonably accurate. Indeed, the scene in which the French attack English infantry on a * George Garnett encouraged the work upon which this essay is based; Gillian Drew, Librarian of St Paul's School, acquired books and articles; my colleague Mr J. R. M. Smith gave generously of his time on the subject of ancient warfare. I am grateful to them. 1 The Gesta Guillelmi of William of Poitiers, ed. R. H. C. Davis and M. Chibnall (Oxford, 1998), pp. 126-7. 2 N. P. Brooks and H. E. Walker, 'The Authority and Interpretation of the Bayeux Tapestry', Anglo-Norman Studies, i (1978), 1-34, 191-9, esp. 8-10; D. J. Bernstein, The Mystery of the Bayeux Tapestry (London, 1986), passim.

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hillock is vital. It both casts doubt on views about the scale of the battle which have prevailed for the last century, and suggests (with other evidence) that Anglo-Saxon armies fought in varied and reasonably complex ways which have never been properly acknowledged. It is true that there is much about Hastings that we can never know, and that many views of it are possible; and it is equally true that this should encourage the most open-minded of approaches. Or one might say that the battle and the capacities of the Anglo-Saxons' military machine should be considered, like other of their activities, according to the dictum of the philosopher whose nearest approach to a positive statement was: 'Not but what it may not have been, perhaps it was'.3 Preceded by the words 'Hie ceciderunt simul Angli et Franci in prelio', the men on the hillock do not wear armour; three sport moustaches and have spears and shields, while one has a beard and a spear, and two others, with neither facial hair nor weaponry, tumble down the slope apparently in death; before them stands a moustachioed warrior wielding an axe double-handed and wearing a sheathed sword, accompanied by a spear-bearing soldier who is regarding the enemy with some trepidation; to the left a clean-shaven Englishman holding a spear and wearing chain-mail, helmet and scabbard is attacking a horseman by seizing his mount's girthstrap; further to the left a water course has brought down two more horses.4 What, then, are we being shown? Well over a hundred years ago, Freeman offered an explanation which has found little favour since. In his view, the hillock is identifiable today on the western part of the battlefield, lying just to the south of the ridge, about one mile long, upon which the conflict took place, and just to the north of a drainage area often containing much water, which now flows into New Pond. An element of a small but noticeable ridge forming part of the general fall of the ground to the south-west, it is covered by bushes and small trees, with a steep slope to the south but a much more accessible approach from the north. In Freeman's opinion, the English deployed along most of the main ridge and stationed men upon the hillock to protect their front at a point where the approach from the south is less severe than elsewhere. Thus, while prudently giving no estimate of the number involved, he spoke of an 'immoveable wedge of men' covering 'every inch' of the ridge, and his map showed them grouped in forty-nine individual units, with housecarls in the centre and 'light-armed' on the flanks.5 There was little justification for

3

J. Campbell, 'The Significance of the Anglo-Norman State in the Administrative History of Western Europe', in Essays, pp. 171-89, at 178-9. 4 The Bayeux Tapestry, ed. D. M. Wilson (London, 1985), plates 65-7. See Plate 2 opposite. 5 E. A. Freeman, The History of the Norman Conquest of England (6 vols, Oxford, 2nd edn, 1870-9), iii, map opposite p. 443, pp. 471, 477. For Freeman's map, see p. 77.

2. The Hillock Scene from the Bayeux Tapestry

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some of this, and by the time Sir James Ramsay wrote in 1898 most of it had been rejected. The German scholar Wilhelm Spatz had by then estimated the troops on each side at not much more than 6000-7000, while J. H. Round's refusal to accept the palisade which Freeman had posited along the English front had led to the belief that the latter must have consisted of a continuous length of shield-wall, which was, if we accept William of Poitiers's repeated statements on the density of the English formation,6 many ranks deep. F. H. Baring guessed that it might have numbered 20,000 to 30,000 men, and, as he thought this impossible, concurred with Ramsay that the English had occupied not the bulk of the ridge at the start of the battle but simply its crest.7 On this view, of course, whatever the Tapestry's hillock scene depicts, it would seem to have little to offer on the initial English deployment, and is not support for Freeman's view that this extended over much of the western part of the ridge. Certainly most subsequent writers have followed Baring's line, with the result that the modern view of the English dispositions and of the scale of the battle is not only very different to Freeman's (in minimizing both), but wears an appearance of certainty which the actual evidence does little to warrant.8 Contemporary sources are inconclusive on the size of the force which Harold commanded at Hastings. The E version of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, perhaps the most contemporary of all, says that he fought The hillock is marked as 'The English Outpost'. J. Bradbury The Battle of Hastings (Stroud, 1998), pp. 176, 189, states (incorrectly) that the hillock is 'very small', and suggests (implausibly) that the Tapestry scene is simply another depiction of the fighting on the main ridge. 6 W. Spatz, Die Schlacht von Hastings (Berlin, 1896), pp. 30, 33; the extensive literature produced between 1892 and 1898 during Round's clash with T. A. Archer and Kate Norgate is listed by J. H. Round, 'The Battle of Hastings', Sussex Archaeological Collections, 42 (1899), 54-63, at 63; William of Poitiers, ed. Davis and Chibnall, pp. 128-9, 130-37 J. H. Ramsay, The Foundations of England (2 vols, London, 1898), ii. 24-6; F. H. Baring, 'On the Battle of Hastings', appendix B of his Domesday Tables (London, 1909), pp. 217-22. Baring's map (see p. 77) of the field and the dispositions of both sides remains the best available on the contours of the site. Ramsey (ii. 16) assessed the French at 5000, Baring (p. 219) at 8000 to 10,000, and the English at 10,000 to 13,000, 'many of them . . . rustics'. 8 For example, F. M. Stenton, Anglo-Saxon England (3rd edn, Oxford, 1971), pp. 592-5; J. Beeler, Warfare in England, 1066-1189 (New York, 1966), pp. n, 16-17; RAllen Brown, 'The Battle of Hastings', Anglo-Norman Studies, 3 (1980), 1-21, 197-201, at 10-11; elsewhere, Brown warned that figures of about 7000 on each side 'are more or less rational guesswork': The Normans and the Norman Conquest (London, 1969), p. 150, n. 47; The Battle of Hastings: Sources and Interpretations, ed. S. Morillo (Woodbridge, 1996), pp. xxii-xxx, with the statement that 'the size of both armies is open to debate', but maps showing an initial English deployment on the crest of the ridge (presumably as we 'know the basic disposition of troops on either side'). For further discussion of the size of the armies, see Appendix, below, pp. 90-1.

Observations upon a Scene in the Bayeux Tapestry

3. The Battle of Hastings: Freeman's Map

4. The Battle of Hastings: Baring's Map

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before all his army had come, while the author of the D text, who had something very like E in front of him, records that the English army was great, but that William came against it unexpectedly, before it was properly organized; nevertheless, Harold and those who followed him (conceivably a hint that some did not) fought hard, and there were heavy casualties on both sides.9 This tendency to offer explanations, if not excuses, for the English defeat is taken further by John of Worcester, who took a pretty partisan view of events between thirty and almost eighty years later. Here, Harold advanced with only half his army, joined battle when only a third of what he had was in order for righting (this being an amplification of D, which John had before him, and whose statement on the size of the army he ignored), drew his forces up in a narrow place from which many of his men retired, but still fought valiantly all day, until he was killed around twilight.10 Of the Norman writers, William of Poitiers insists that the English force, augmented by reinforcements from Denmark, was vast, a view with which William of Jumieges agrees.11 Of course, it can be dismissed as the product of a desire to magnify the achievements of Duke William, and in any case we have no way of deciding what was a large army in eleventh-century terms. Even so, there is reason to think that it occupied rather more than simply the crest of the ridge at Battle. The Tapestry's hillock scene seems to represent an important stage in the conflict, which its audience was expected to recognize. Moreover, it immediately precedes the depiction of Duke William proving to his men that he was still alive, which according to William of Poitiers followed the flight of the Breton foot and horse and the auxiliaries on his left wing, and was itself followed by the annihilation of several thousand of the pursuing English.12 Freeman considered the possibility that the hillock scene shows the last stand of these unfortunates (a common view since), while thinking that the tumbling horses to its left fell some distance away, in the ravine to the west of the ridge.13 An Two of the Saxon Chronicles Parallel, ed. C. Plummer (2 vols, Oxford, 1892-9), i. 198-9. The date of D is uncertain. D. N. Dumville, 'Some Aspects of Annalistic Writing at Canterbury in the Eleventh and Early Twelfth Centuries', Peritia, 2 (1983), 23-57, at 34, suggests extreme outer limits of 1080 X 1130 for its compilation. 10 John of Worcester, Chronicon, ed. R.R. Darlington and P. McGurk (Oxford, 1995) ii. 604; on the dating limits, see p. Ixxxi. 11 William of Poitiers, ed. Davis and Chibnall, pp. 126-9; William of Jumieges, Gesta Normannorum ducum, ed. E.M.C. van Houts (2 vols, Oxford, 1992-5), ii. 166. 12 William of Poitiers, ed. Davis and Chibnall, pp. 128-31. 13 Freeman, Norman Conquest, iii. 490-1; C. H. Lemmon, 'The Campaign of 1066', in The Norman Conquest: Its Setting and Impact, ed. D. Whitelock et al. (London, 1966), p. 106. Freeman quoted William of Malmesbury's Gesta regum at this point, which speaks of the English occupying a tumulus after a French feigned flight, and of many enemy deaths in a deep ditch: De gestis regum Anglorum libri quinque, ed. W. Stubbs, Rolls Series, 2 vols (London, 1887-9), ii. 303; but this may be Malmesbury's own interpretation of 9

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alternative is to see both horses and hillock as in the same locality, and as representing fighting which preceded rather than followed the French flight, as the Tapestry's inclusion of them before the duke's rallying of his men, and close analysis of the scene, in any case suggest. The defenders of the hillock are not solely 'half-armed peasants'.14 While two do bear only spears, the four moustachioed warriors (all unarmoured, but three with spears and shields and one with axe and sword) look very like regular light infantry, and their moustaches 'as if some special significance attached to them'.15 Indeed, it is not improbable that what we are being shown here is one of the English 'picked companies' of the sort present at Brunanburh in 937,16 and this would also fit the way in which their light equipment suits the terrain in which they are deployed. In other words, they did not fetch up on the hillock accidentally, while pursuing the fleeing French, but were placed there from the outset, as Freeman thought. This interpretation is strengthened if we associate with them the figures and horses to the left. On this view, the Tapestry's watercourse is that to the south of the hillock, and its representation of an armoured man seizing the girthstrap of his enemy's horse indicates that this too was held against the French. Furthermore, if Sir David Wilson is correct in thinking that the serrated shapes shown above the water represent a 'defensive work of sharpened stakes', this would underline the determination with which the English held this area and offer a convincing explanation of why the scene's tumbling horses are in such difficulties.17 Wace, who wrote over a century after the Conquest, mentions ditches several times, and reports that during the battle the Normans were pushed back to one which they had previously left behind them, more perishing there than elsewhere, as those who saw the dead said.18 Fortunately, the likelihood that Harold resorted to field defences hardly needs support from evidence of the Tapestry. The various accounts of deaths in ditches, including the so-called Malfosse incident, are well treated in Brown, 'The Battle of Hastings', 18-21. 14

Ibid., 20. The Bayeux Tapestry, ed. F. M. Stenton (London, 1957), p. 175. 16 Two of the Saxon Chronicles Parallel, ed. Plummer, i. 108. I have translated the Old English eorod-cist here on the assumption that the second element derives from the verb ceosan, to choose; see Plummer's glossary, ibid., 328, and The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, trans. M. J. Swanton (London, 1996), p. 108. The word cist can, however, also denote a company, and 'mounted companies' is an alternative: English Historical Documents, c. 500-1042, ed. D. Whitelock (2nd edn, London, 1979), p. 219. Swanton states that the word eored derives from eoh, 'war-horse'; see below, p. 87. 17 The Bayeux Tapestry, ed. Wilson, pp. 192-3. Naturally, it is impossible to be sure that they do not depict vegetation; Brown, 'The Battle of Hastings', n. 120, suggested 'tufts of marsh grass'. 18 Wace, Roman de Rou, ed. A. J. Holden (3 vols, Paris, 1970-3), lines 6969-72, 7847-8, 8079-96; ii. 143, 176, 185-6. 15

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such doubtful reliability. In 1064 he had accompanied the Normans on campaign in Brittany, and doubtless thought long and hard about how their cavalry might best be countered: not that there need have been anything novel about his methods, for too little is known about AngloSaxon fighting techniques to make arguments from silence of much weight here. Professor Leyser noted that in the late ninth century Vikings on the Continent often erected 'quick and effective field fortifications, dykes fortified by stakes, palisades and advanced ditches. Time and again their enemies were hampered by these works'. In the 88os Margrave Henry of Neustria was killed when he 'rode into what might today be described as a tank-trap'.19 The implications of all this for our understanding of the battle of Hastings are considerable. First, and assuming of course that the Tapestry's hillock and watercourse have been correctly identified with those visible today on the western part of the field, the view that Harold's deployment was limited to the crest of the ridge becomes untenable. The hillock is some quarter of a mile from the point where he fell, and the protection of it and its approaches by both light and heavy infantry and field defences increases the likelihood that there were also English troops on the flattish western part of the main ridge to the north and north-west, as Freeman thought.20 Despite statements about the density of their line, it would be rash to assume that it consisted simply of a long shield-wall;21 equally, the possibility that the battle involved not several thousand men on the English side but tens of thousands must be strengthened. Another argument on these lines might run thus: Harold had been on the site long enough to build field defences, yet the D version of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle says that his forces were taken by surprise before they were properly ordered; if he could not organize his men in time, given an area which extended beyond the ridge's crest, might this not be because, as D says, it was indeed a great army, and great in eleventh-century terms was at least bigger than the limits laid down by Spatz and his many disciples? There is reason to doubt their assessment of the size of the French force too, even if the relevant arguments are no more than what might be called a sequence of possibilities. A Norman ship list records the number of vessels owed to Duke William in 1066 by fourteen of his K. J. Leyser, 'Early Medieval Warfare', in his Communications and Power in Medieval Europe: The Carolingian and Ottoman Centuries, ed. T. Reuter (London, 1994), pp. 29-71, at 48-9; citing, on Margrave Henry, Regino of Prum, Chronicon, ed. F. Kurze (Hanover, 1890), s.a. 887, p. 126. Worth noting, too, are Professor Leyser's comments on the sophistication of the tactics known from continental sources. 20 Apart from Baring's map, the most useful one is the modern Ordnance Survey Pathfinder Map, sheet no. 1290 (TQ 61/71) at 2/£ inches to i mile. 21 Above, p. 76. 19

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magnates, together in four cases with the numbers of milites also due. Until recently treated with circumspection, partly because it was thought to date from the twelfth century and partly, no doubt, because of the somewhat startling nature of its evidence, the list has been rehabilitated in the work of Professor Hollister and Dr van Houts.22 The latter believes that, although extant only in a Battle Abbey copy of c. 1130-60, the document was created in about 1072 or perhaps as early as December 1067, probably at Fecamp, on the basis of information compiled just before the Conquest by monks of that abbey in William's service. The duke's half-brothers, Robert of Mortain and Bishop Odo, owed 120 and 100 ships respectively, others fewer, but the grand total is 776, and 280 milites. The list then states, wrongly as it seems (although its enumeration of magnates may have become truncated in transmission) that the total was 1000, and that the duke also had many other ships from certain of his men, according to their means. Now Wace says that he had been told by his father that 696 ships, including those carrying arms and harnesses, sailed with William from Saint-Valery, although he had also read (in William of Jumieges) that there were 3000 ships.23 He too, like the list, says that William Fitz Osbern contributed sixty and (unlike it) Bishop Odo forty, adding that the bishop of Le Mans provided thirty vessels and their crews. As Dr van Houts has observed, despite their agreements Wace and the list differ sufficiently to seem independent of each other, and this bolsters our confidence in their general reliability on this issue.24 By any reckoning then, Duke William's fleet was sizeable: if we accept the list's evidence that he was owed 1000 ships by a portion of his men and more by others, and consider the possibility that some of his continental allies supplied their 22 C. W. Hollister, 'The Greater Domesday Tenants-in-Chief, in Domesday Studies, ed. J. C. Holt (Woodbridge, 1987), pp. 219-48, at 221-6; E. M. C. van Houts, 'The Ship List of William the Conqueror', Anglo-Norman Studies, 10 (1987), 159-83. It is edited by Dr van Houts at 176. 23 Roman de Ron, ed. Holden, lines 6423-32; ii. 123; William of Jumieges, Gesta Normannorum ducum, ed. van Houts, ii. 164. 24 Roman de Ron, ed. Holden, lines 6119-21, 6163-7; ii. 112, 114; van Houts, 'Ship List', 162-3, J68. See also C. M. Gillmor, 'Naval Logistics of the Cross-Channel Operation, 1066', Anglo-Norman Studies, 7 (1984), 105-31. This article, which appeared before recent work on the ship list, argues that there is no proof that William's magnates supplied all the vessels requested, and that building Wace's 696 ships would have severely taxed the timber and labour resources of eleventh-century Normandy. This may be so, although it might seem doubtful whether William would have settled for much less than he wanted, and one could doubtless use similar methods to show that Caesar's men, despite a shortage of materials, could not have produced 600 ships and twenty-eight warships over the winter of 55/54 BC: De hello gallico, v. 2, ed. T. Rice Holmes (Oxford, 1914), p. 171. However, Gillmor stresses the possibility that many of William's vessels came from existing stock, were supplied by his allies, or built from extant supplies of seasoned timber.

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own vessels, then William of Jumieges's total of 3000 does not look completely ridiculous. Moreover, such conclusions could be supported by what is known of the anchorages employed in 1066. William of Poitiers says that the fleet assembled at the mouth of the Dives and neighbouring ports, was delayed for a month by unsuitable winds, and then blown by westerlies to Saint-Valery-sur-Somme.25 Now the Gulf of Dives may in the eleventh century have provided a very large harbour indeed, for Wace claimed that the river flowed into the sea near Bavent, which is some five miles from the town of Dives-sur-Mer, where the entrance to the English Channel is situated today;26 together with the 'other ports', it may have been able to shelter many hundreds of vessels. The same is true of the Somme estuary at Saint-Valery, and probably of the harbours around Pevensey Bay, where William landed. The presence of sand and alluvium in localities that are today well inland shows that they were once likely to flood, or were open water. One reconstruction of the coast that William found shows the bay itself with an entrance about four miles wide and penetrating inland for about six miles, while the anchorage at Bulverhythe, west of Hastings, had an entrance about two-thirds of a mile wide and a penetration of about two and a half miles.27 Of course, even if we had a reliable total for his fleet we could not deduce the number of men it carried before negotiating the quicksand of average ship capacity. Even so, this is not quite the end of the ship list's significance. Professor Hollister has noted that William of Poitiers names seven prominent Norman lay lords from whose counsel the duke benefited in 1066, and that if we replace Richard, count of Evreux, by his son William, who fought at Hastings and is named in the list, then the seven correspond exactly with the eight (including Odo, a bishop) premier suppliers of ships according to the list. 'One might almost suppose that William of Poitiers was writing with some such ship list at hand'.28 Indeed one might, and one might also compare his comment William of Poitiers, ed. Davis and Chibnall, pp. 102-5, 108-11. Roman de Rou, ed. Holden, line 2882; i. no; Gillmor, 'Naval Logistics', 107.1 have measured the distance from Bavent to Dives-sur-Mer on the Michelin map no. 231, Normandie, at a scale of I cm. to 2 km. Gillmor gives 4.8 km. in error. B. S. Bachrach, 'Some Observations on the Military Administration of the Norman Conquest', AngloNorman Studies, 8 (1985), 1-25, at 6, offers a map of the area, but with an inaccurate scale. The form of the lower Dives at this date is not, of course, known with any precision; see further R. N. Sauvage, L'abbaye de Saint-Martin de Troam au diocese de Bayeux des origines au seizieme sieck (Caen, 1911), pp. 245-52, who thought it 'un vaste lac envahi par les marees'. 27 These calculations have been made from the map prepared by J. A. Williamson and printed in The Carmen de Hastingae Proelio, ed. C. Morton and H. Muntz (Oxford, 1972), p. 110. 28 William of Poitiers, ed. Davis and Chibnall, pp. 100-3; Hollister, 'Greater Domesday Tenants-in-Chief', p. 223. 25 26

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that Agamemnon set out with 1000 vessels but that Duke William had more - pluribus - with the list's total of 1000 and multas alias naves; of course, William of Poitiers may have had William of Jumieges's 3000 in mind, even though otherwise 'the two works diverge completely' on the events of 1066.29 One might also begin to think the unthinkable in another respect: if monks of Fecamp were with William's army keeping records (and one is said to have acted as ducal messenger to Harold before the battle),30 might this not be where William of Poitiers obtained his figures of 50,000 for the number supported by the Conqueror at Dives and 60,000 for those he commanded just before Hastings?31 Obviously, the credibility of numbers like 60,000 is desperately difficult to ascertain. Ferdinand Lot noted that 60, 600, 6000 and 60,000 appear frequently in medieval chronicles, nor are they absent from works of Julius Caesar32 which William of Poitiers was eager to imitate.33But that is not to say that he was in this case influenced by Caesar, or simply utilized random round numbers, for such numbers also appear in early medieval assessment systems. The Anglo-Saxon document known as the Tribal Hidage deals repeatedly in recurrent totals of this type, including 600, while sixty appears six times in the ship list (including one reference to milites) and is known also from the Cartae Baronum of 1166, believed to record the quotas of knights which William required from his tenants in England.34 If 60,000 was not the number of men the duke had, it could have been the total that a scribe in his service at some point thought he ought to have had. It is very likely that the Anglo-Saxon military system utilized tens of thousands of men, at least on occasion, and perhaps in 1066. As is well known, the early tenth-century Burghal Hidage implies that West Saxon and Mercian burhs were maintained, and possibly defended, by some 27,000 men.35 The German bishop Thietmar of Merseburg heard that there were 24,000 byrnies in London in 1016, a number which he William of Poitiers, ed. Davis and Chibnall, pp. 110-13; R. H. C. Davis, 'William of Poitiers and his History of William the Conqueror', in The Writing of History in the Middle Ages, ed. R.H.C. Davis and J.M. Wallace-Hadrill (Oxford, 1981), p. 78. 30 William of Poitiers, ed. Davis and Chibnall, pp. 118-21; van Houts, 'Ship List', 168. 31 William of Poitiers, ed. Davis and Chibnall, pp. 102-3, 116-17. 32 F. Lot, Van militaire et les armees au moyen age en Europe et dans k Proche Orient (Paris, 1946), i. 285 n. 2; for example, De Betto Gallico, ed. Rice Holmes: 60: v. 5, p. 174; v. 23, p. 196. 600: ii, 15, p. 82; ii. 28, p. 93; iii. 22, p. 122; v. 2, p. 171. 6000: i. 27, p. 32; i. 48, p. 59; ii. 29, p. 94; iv. 37, pp. 168-9; viii. 17, p. 375. 60,000: ii, 4, p. 69; ii. 28, p. 93; v. 49, p. 219; vii. 83, p. 355. (Book viii was not, of course, written by Caesar.) 33 See Appendix, below, pp. 90-1. 34 D. Dumville, 'The Tribal Hidage: An Introduction to its Texts and their History', in The Origins of Anglo-Saxon Kingdoms, ed. S. Bassett (Leicester, 1989), p. 227; J. H. Round, Feudal England (London, 1909), pp. 249, 251, 253. 35 The Defence of Wessex: The Burghal Hidage and Anglo-Saxon Fortifications, ed. D. Hill and A. R. Rumble (Manchester, 1996), pp. 30-1, 34-5. 29

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seems unlikely to have invented, since he thought it incredible.36 Even more striking, ^Ethelstan required two well-horsed men from every plough.37 The 'plough' to which he refers need not have been connected with the ploughland or the ploughteam of Domesday Book, for by the 1086 assessment the former would have provided over 120,000 and the latter over 160,000 men.38 Nevertheless, his dominions must have contained many 'ploughs', whatever they were, and the probability that a levy of two men on each produced tens of thousands seems high. It is unsurprising, then, that in extreme circumstances the written sources reveal an ability to call on what look like considerable military reserves. In 920 Edward the Elder ordered fortresses to be built at Towcester and Wigingamere, the defenders of both subsequently withstanding sieges until, in the case of the former, reinforcements arrived; then, in the summer, a great force assembled from the men of nearby strongholds and took by storm the Viking defences at Tempsford, while in the autumn Colchester was captured by a great army composed of garrisons and troops from Kent, Surrey and Essex; at much the same time the Scandinavians made an unsuccessful attack on Maldon, suffering 'many hundreds' of dead at the hands of its reinforced garrison. Edward himself then led a West Saxon army (presumably one which had so far been inactive) to Passenham, while Towcester was fortified in stone; and when that army returned home another assembled for the capture of Huntingdon. It may have been the same force which then restored the defences of Colchester.39 More remarkable still, in 1016 Edmund Ironside called up all the people of England five times during his extended campaigns against Cnut.40 Of course, one might argue that the capacity to perform such feats had been allowed to lapse subsequently, but if so it had not reduced contemporaries' opinion of the efficacy of the English navy, whose assistance was sought by both Swegen Estridsson of Denmark and the German emperor Henry III in the IO4OS;41 or the Confessor's ability to Thietmar, Chronicon, ed. R. Holtzmann (2nd edn, Berlin, 1955), vii. 40; pp. 446-7. II Akhelstan 16: Die Gesetze der Angelsachsen ed. F. Liebermann (3 vols, Halle, 1898-1916),!. 158. 38 H. C. Darby, Domesday England (Cambridge, 1977), p. 336. And the statistics are incomplete; for ploughlands and ploughteams, see ibid., pp. 95-136. 39 Two of the Saxon Chronicles Parallel, ed. Plummer, i. 101-3. 40 Ibid., 151. 41 A point made by C. W. Hollister, Anglo-Saxon Military Institutions (Oxford, 1962), pp. 125-6. There has been considerable recent appreciation of the late Anglo-Saxon naval system: for example, M. Strickland, 'Military Technology and Conquest: The Anomaly of Anglo-Saxon-England', Anglo-Norman Studies, 19 (1996), 353-82, at 373-8; N. A. M. Rodger, The Safeguard of the Sea: A Naval History of Great Britain (London, I 997)j i- 14~3°> including the suggestion that some of Alfred's vessels were among the biggest 'built in northern waters during the Middle Ages'. I owe this reference to James Campbell. 36

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reduce the Welsh to subjection in io63.42 In all, then, despite the battles of Fulford and Stamford Bridge, it may well be that the English administrative system allowed Harold to assemble a great army at the hoar apple tree, as the D version of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and Norman writers claim, and that William brought against it a force transported in many hundreds of ships and also of very considerable size. The late Anglo-Saxon state geared its people for war to an extent that the English were perhaps not to see repeated until the war of 1914-18. The defeat of the Vikings and reconquest of Danish England were major administrative and military achievements, as the Chronicle entries for the reign of Edward the Elder (noted above) demonstrate. ALthelstan and Edgar established dominion over all Britain, while the less happy reign of ALthelred II ended with a period of intense conflict, which ushered in Cnut's northern empire, partly the creation of English military resources and English wealth. The reign of the Confessor was relatively peaceful, but it must have been obvious that his death was likely to result in bloodshed. As with other aspects of Anglo-Saxon life, the details of military organization, both on the battlefield and elsewhere, are largely hidden from us, but that is not to say that the English armies of 1066 were deficient in these respects, or bound to be defeated by William; indeed, if anything is clear from the sources about Hastings, it is that defeat was far from inevitable. Certainly, the AngloSaxon military system is very likely to have incorporated features of which we know nothing, or almost nothing. The wars of Alfred and his son, for example, often saw attacks on fortresses which may well have involved siege machines; they are mentioned on the Continent, but not in England.43 Similarly, it would be unsurprising if English military organization reflected that of the Carolingians. When Domesday Book for Berkshire tells us that a man went to the army from every five hides, there is an obvious similarity with a capitulary of Charlemagne which requests that all freemen with allods of five, four or three mansi are to attend the army.44 Yet in 806 the degree of military service imposed on the Saxons varied according to the enemy concerned, and it seems unlikely that in England the five-hide rule was the sole yardstick employed: it does not quite suit the fact that two of the Hampshire freemen killed at Hastings held the same estate (of four hides and one See F. Barlow, Edward the Confessor (London, 1970), pp. 210-2. Capitularia regum Francorum, i, ed. A. Boretius (Hanover, 1883), no. 77, c. 10; translated by P. D. King, Charlemagne: Translated Sources (Kendal, 1987), p. 245. 44 DB i. 560; Capitularia, ed. Boretius, no. 48, c. 2; King, Charlemagne, p. 260. See further, Hollister, Anglo-Saxon Military Institutions, pp. 42-3, and on general similarities between Carolingian and Anglo-Saxon government, J. Campbell, 'Observations on English Government from the Tenth to the Twelfth Century', Essays, pp. 155-70, at 159-66. 42

43

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virgate) jointly along with another, or the varied equipment, reflecting different social ranks, found in sources like the poem on the battle of Maldon and the Bayeux Tapestry.45 Charlemagne on occasion also specified the gear that troops were to have with them, as Aithelred II did in 1008 when he ordered that his fleet should be supplied with a helmet and byrnie by every eight hides.46 Moreover, the equipment observable on the Bayeux Tapestry shows uniformity as well as variation. The shield-wall men, for example, almost all have byrnies and helmets, kite-shaped shields and spears,47 while the regularly-equipped moustachioed light infantry on the hillock are accompanied by peasants provided only with spears, and three of the rustic quartet who flee on foot at the end have clubs of similar design.48 While it could be argued that such regularities were simply convenient for the Tapestry's designer, there is reason to think that rather more lay behind them. It is noticeable, for example, that most of the heavily-armed English fighting solely with axes and those with round shields are operating in looser order than the men in the shield-wall.49 It looks as if their weaponry sometimes reflected the functions that soldiers were expected to perform. Creating a formation of overlapping shields was perhaps easier if they were kite-shaped, that is with less width than a round shield and offering more protection to the body of a man standing side-on, and in a position to push with his shoulder behind the shield if necessary. On the other hand, the round shield with its large boss may have been more suited to men fighting in open order,50 while the space required to swing the two-handed axe suggests that the bulk of its bearers must have fought in this way too. Accordingly, one should not be too ready to assume, as might seem natural, that the Tapestry scene showing the deaths of Harold's brothers represents a stage in the battle after the breaking of the shieldwall. It looks as though not all the English were occupied in that wall: there were men armed solely with axes, round-shield men, archers (if Capitularia, ed. Boretius, no. 49, c. 2; King, Charlemagne, p. 257; DB, i. 503; The Battle of Maldon, ed. and trans. D. Scragg, in The Battle of Maldon, AD 991, ed. D. Scragg (Oxford, 1991), pp. 18-31. 46 Capitularia, ed. Boretius, no. 75, no. 77, c. 9; King, Charlemagne, pp. 260, 244; Two of the Saxon Chronicles Parallel, ed. Plummer, i. 138. 47 The Bayeux Tapestry, ed. Wilson, plates 61-2; one holds a small axe but has spears and a shield too, another only has a double-handed axe. 48 Ibid., plates 67, 73. 49 Ibid., plates 64-5, 70-2. 50 'By efficient movement of his shield arm he could ward off blows from above, side and to front': I. Peirce, 'Arms, Armour and Warfare in the Eleventh Century', AngloNorman Studies, 10 (1987), 237-57, at 244. The hoplites of the ancient world, of course, did use round shields in forming lines of battle: J. K. Anderson, 'Hoplite Weapons and Offensive Arms', in Hoplites: The Classical Greek Battle Experience, ed. V. D. Hanson (London, 1991), pp. 15-37, at 16. 45

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present in any number,51 and of course the specialist light infantry on the hillock. One might add that the latter would also have been bestsuited to pursuing a defeated enemy in armies which had no cavalry, if we are safe in assuming that the companies who performed this role at Brunanburh in 937 were not on horseback.52 Of course, there is no reason why Anglo-Saxon military methods should have remained static between the late ninth and mid-eleventh centuries, and some evidence that they did not. Both the fortification of burhs in stone rather than timber,53 and /S-thelred II's requirement that equipment should include helmets and byrnies to an apparently greater degree than had been the case earlier,54 demonstrate a willingness to innovate. The use of the shield-wall, however, changed little. In Bishop Asser's account of the battle of Ashdown in 871 the enemy split into two divisions, forming shield-walls of equal size, whereupon the West Saxons did the same; at Edington in 878 Alfred fought cum densa testudine against the entire pagan army,55 while at Farnham in 893 ALthelweard says that Edward the Elder engaged in an agmine denso.56 Similarly, we hear of the use of the shield-wall again at Maldon in 991, and William of Poitiers's comments on the density of the English line at Hastings must surely refer to the same formation, which is represented, after a fashion, in the Bayeux Tapestry.57 Asser's word for men so arrayed is testudo, which originally denoted a formation of shields used by Roman legionaries, and it was perhaps the implications of such a parallel that led Spatz to deny the use of a shield-wall at Hastings in the most important sentence in his book: Only an army trained in protracted military exercises, such as an army 51 As is well known, the Tapestry shows only one English archer, The Bayeux Tapestry, ed. Wilson, plate 62. But there is a danger of being misled by its limitations. If English shield-walls were occasionally fronted by lines of skirmishing archers who withdrew to the rear as the enemy approached, this would not have been easy to represent in such a medium, especially considering the danger of confusion with the many French bowmen in the lower border. Also, the designer seems to have had relatively little interest in depicting troops of modest social origin. 52 Above, p. 79 n. 16. The long-held view that the Anglo-Saxons never used cavalry has recently begun to disintegrate; see for example, Strickland, 'Military Technology', 359-60. 53 Above, p. 84. 54 Above, p. 86; N. P. Brooks, 'Arms, Status and Warfare in Late-Saxon England', in Ethelred the Unready: Papers from the Millenary Conference, ed. D. Hill (Oxford, 1978), pp. 81-103, at 85-90. 55 Asser's Life of King Alfred, ed. W. H. Stevenson (Oxford, 1904), cc. 37, 56; pp. 28, 45. See the translation in Alfred the Great, trans. S. D. Keynes and M. Lapidge (London, 1983), PP- 79, 8456 The Chronicle of JEthelweard, ed. A. Campbell (London, 1962), p. 49. 57 The Battle of Maldon, ed. Scragg, lines 101-2, 242; pp. 22, 28; above, p. 76 n. 6.

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made up of tactical corps would be, would be capable of forming such an extraordinarily difficult formation as a long, continuous shield-wall.58 Exactly so. A formation probably many ranks deep and fronted by overlapping shields must have taken time to organize, and whether it was employed defensively or, as at Ashdown, offensively, would not be easy to maintain in the stress of battle, as the dead and wounded left the ranks and had to be replaced. Nor is it likely that such formations were the sole province of the well-equipped household troops of great lords, as the Tapestry depiction of an armoured line might lead one to argue, for it is clear from The Battle of Maldon and probably from the Alfredian references that shire levies were incorporated in them too. Moreover, it is virtually inconceivable that a society to which war was so vital did not train levies to this end, a training to which there may be an oblique reference in the statement that at Maldon Ealdorman Byrhtnoth told his men how to stand and asked that they should hold their shields properly, later instructing them to form the 'war-hedge';59 and if as part of a national army shire levies might be expected to form a single line with others of their kind, one would think that they must have had training in that as well. How, otherwise, would different groups have known where to position themselves? As noted above, Norman complaints about the density of the English line at Hastings suggest that a great shield-wall was formed there, even if not all their troops were involved in it, and it may be that the time needed to array a sizeable army in such a fashion allowed the enemy to attack before, according to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle D text, they were properly ordered. Hints of the sort of methods employed to create large formations might be derived from the hoplites of ancient Sparta. They fought in close order with shield and thrusting spear in a manner not dissimilar to that of the shield-wall. In Xenophon's time a hoplite mora was made up of four lochoi, the latter having two pentekostyes of two enomotiai apiece.60 The enomotia may have contained thirty-six men, and if so the lochos had I44- 61 It was the existence of sub-units which allowed the Spatz, Die Schlacht von Hastings, p. 45. 'Nur ein in langwierigen militarischen Exerzitien geschultes, also aus taktischen Korpern zusammengesetztes Heer wiirde imstande sein, eine so ausserordentlich schwierige Formation, wie sie ein lang fortlaufender, gerader Schildwall 1st, zu bilden.' 'Tactical corps' was Spatz's term for highly-trained troops. I am grateful to my colleague Paul Collinson for verifying the translation of this passage. 59 The Battle of Maldon, ed. Scragg, lines 17-20, 101-2; pp. 18, 22. 60 Xenophon, Spartan Society, c. n; translated in Plutarch on Sparta, trans. R. J. A. Talbert (London, 1988), p. 178. 61 P. Connolly, Greece and Rome at War (London, 1981), pp. 39-41. But it should be stressed that this is speculation, and noted with reference to Xenophon's remarks that 'the size and precise relationship to one another of the units mentioned both here and later are obscure': Talbert, in Plutarch on Sparta, p. 187. 58

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phalanx to form up and manoeuvre, as was also the case with the Roman legion, and it would be surprising if the shield-wall did not contain equivalents. Certainly it is worth noting that terms such as eored-hedp, eored-predt, eored-weorod, heap., scild-truma, truma and weorod may sometimes have had more precise meanings than the simple 'troop' and 'company' which is the best we can do in translating them today.62 There is little about the battle of Hastings which is certain. If it is impossible to prove Spatz, Ramsay, Baring and their many disciples wrong in believing it a relatively small-scale affair fought on a restricted hill top,63 the paucity of the evidence and the weakness of their arguments mean that it is far from clear that they were right either. The Bayeux Tapestry has limitations, but it is a reasonable supposition that the scene depicting a hillock and preceded by the words 'Hie ceciderunt simul Angli et Franci in prelio' records an important phase of the battle, which the presence of the water probably locates a considerable distance from the crest of the ridge,64 and not improbably in the vicinity of present-day New Pond and its adjacent ground; if so, the initial English deployment may have been much more extensive than has usually been acknowledged. Similarly, there is no reliable way of fixing the sizes of the armies at a few thousands rather than tens of thousands, but the Tapestry does have indications of an English force which fought in various ways, capable of being adapted to varied terrain and a varied enemy: field defences were some sort of answer to heavy cavalry, if not in this case a wholly successful one. To note these points is both to loosen the straitjacket imposed on this subject in the late nineteenth century and to bring within the bounds of possibility an important hypothesis: that the late Anglo-Saxon state, the culmination of six centuries which formed 'an integral part of the history of one of the most successful human organizations there has ever been',65 possessed a powerful and flexible military system, which reflected the wealth, administrative sophistication and intelligence to be seen in others of its See the entries in An Anglo-Saxon Dictionary, ed. J. Bosworth and T. N. Toller (Oxford, 1898), and Supplement. 63 To be precise, the restriction of the battle to the crest of the ridge originated with Ramsay. Spatz gave no plan of the field, but seems to have thought that that the English deployed over the full extent of what he described as a narrow hill with a depth of roughly 150 yards and length of only about one mile: Die Schlacht von Hastings., p. 3364 This is not certain, as the western part of the field, which stands on Wadhurst Clay, becomes noticeably waterlogged after rain, and both the monastic fishpond to the east of the abbey terrace and another pond on the northern edge of the hillock contain water all the year round. It is therefore conceivable, if very unlikely, that there was water closer to the crest than that in the New Pond area. 65 Anglo-Saxons, ed. Campbell et al., p. 246. 62

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works, and was itself reflected in the size and tactics of the last army it put into the field; an army overcome by an amphibious operation on an astonishing scale, and a narrow margin.

APPENDIX Limitations of space prevent full consideration here of the reasons advanced by Spatz, Baring and Ramsay for limiting the armies to less than 10,000 men apiece; none carry much conviction, but here is a little of the argument. Spatz Die Schlacht von Hastings, pp. 28-9, thought that the French force must have been relatively small partly because disembarkation at Pevensey took only a day when in 1854 the landing in the Crimea of 60,000 men, just over 1000 cavalry and 128 cannon took five days; and that William could not have marched a large army some seven miles from Hastings to Battle in a brief morning period before engaging the English. It is uncertain whether he did disembark so quickly (the dates of 28 and 29 September given by the D and E versions of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle hint at a two-day landing), and analogies of this sort are in any case dangerous as evidence of what he could or could not have done. If they are to be employed, there are others which might tend to different conclusions. For example, in 54 BC Julius Caesar, with five legions and 2000 cavalry (i.e. something over 25,000 men) in more than 800 ships, reached the British coast about midday, made an unopposed landing, chose a suitable spot for a camp and inarched against the Britons shortly after midnight: De Betto Gallico, v. 8-9, ed. Rice Holmes, pp. 177-80. Furthermore, there is no certainty that William could not have marched a very large army rapidly to Battle, even if there was such a march, which is very doubtful. Spatz relied here on William of Poitiers (ed. Davis and Chibnall, pp. 116-23), who says that after an exchange of ambassadors Harold hastened his advance to take the duke by surprise, that scouts reported his approach and that William then assembled the soldiers in his camp, as most had gone out foraging. Whatever the size of his command, this leaves scant time to recall the foragers, assemble in marching order, march to Battle and deploy, all before 9 o'clock, when William of Jumieges and John of Worcester say the fighting began, even on the generous assumption that the foragers had been operating during the night: William of Jumieges, Gesta Normannorum ducum, ed. van Houts, ii. 168; John of Worcester, Chronicon, ed. Darlington and McGurk, ii. 604. In fact, to allow his army to forage if he suspected that the enemy were in the vicinity is not the sort of procedure one might have expected the Conqueror to adopt, and it is likely that we are being led astray by William of Poitiers' love of classical allusions, which are a major problem when trying to establish the veracity of his account; see R. H. C. Davis, 'William of Poitiers'. He 'moves about Caesar's Gallic Wars with the ease of a master, using its facts solely as they are relevant to his purpose', and it is noteworthy that in 55 BC the Seventh Legion was attacked by the Britons when foraging and had to be rescued by Caesar with soldiers assembled from

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his camp, while in 54 BC three of his legions and all his cavalry were attacked while out foraging: De Bello Gallico, iv. 32-4, v. 17, ed. Rice Holmes, pp. 165-7, 190-1. These are not precise parallels, but William of Jumieges (ed. van Houts, ii. 16 8) says that Duke William, fearing a night attack, ordered his army to stand to arms from dusk to dawn, before arranging his men in three divisions and moving forward after daybreak to join battle. On balance, this is a preferable tale, and allows more time for even a very large force to march from Hastings, if that is what it did: Jumieges would sanction the interpretation that the French were near Battle the evening before the engagement, and this would make it easier to understand the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle D text's claim that the English were attacked before they were properly organized; above, p. 78.

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5 Eadmer, his Archbishops and the English State MARK PHILPOTT Concluding his article about the twelfth-century historians of AngloSaxon England,* James Campbell warned, 'In our attempts to understand them, and their subjects, one of the greatest difficulties which stands in the way is the complex intractability of the hagiographical materials'.1 This intractability may help to explain why, despite Sir Richard Southern's efforts (enthusiastically seconded by Dr Gransden) to draw out the historical and historiographical importance of Eadmer's hagiographical works, it is still fundamentally as true now as it was in 1963, when Southern wrote, that 'Eadmer is known to historians as the author of the Historia novorum in Anglia, the first piece of large-scale contemporary historical writing in England after Bede, and as the biographer of his friend and master St Anselm.'2 Even thus attenuated, Eadmer's works have been vital sources for historians of the English state under the Norman kings. This article, however, braving James Campbell's warning, will explore what can be added from Eadmer's hagiographical accounts of archbishops Bregwine, Oda and Dunstan of Canterbury, and Wilfrid and Oswald of York.3 * It is a pleasure to thank Dr John Hudson, Dr Matthew Kempshall and Dr John Maddicott for their much-appreciated help with this essay. 1 J. Campbell, 'Some Twelfth-Century Views of the Anglo-Saxon Past', reprinted in Essays, pp. 209-28, at p. 227. 2 R. W. Southern, St Anselm and his Biographer (Cambridge, 1963), pp. 274-87, quotation from p. 229. Compare A. Gransden, Historical Writing in England, c. 550 to c. 1307 (London, 1974), pp. 129-31. 3 See Eadmer, Vita Beati Bregowini Cantuariensis Archiepiscopi, ed. B. W. Scholz, 'Eadmer's Life of Bregwine, Archbishop of Canterbury, 761-764', Traditio, 22 (1966), 123, 127-148, at 137-148; Vita Sancti Odonis, Patrologia Latina, 133, cols 933-44; Vita Sancti Dunstani, Memorials of St Dunstan, Archbishop of Canterbury, ed. W. Stubbs, Rolls Series (London, 1874), PP- 162-249; Vita Sancti Wilfridi auctore Edmero: The Life ofSt Wilfrid by Edmer, ed. and trans. B. J. Muir and A. J. Turner (Exeter, 1998); Vita Sancti Oswaldi et miracula Sancti Oswaldi, The Historians of the Church of York and its Archbishops, ed. J. Raine, Rolls Series, 3 vols (London, 1879-94), u- I-59- On a strict view, Wilfrid was not arc/zbishop of York: see Venerabilis Baedae opera historica, ed. C. Plummer (Oxford, 1896), ii. 117. However, except in the manuscript from St Augustine's Canterbury, Eadmer's Wilfrid was: see Eadmer, Vita Sancti Wilfridi,

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It would scarcely be an exaggeration to say that Eadmer's Life of St Anselm and Historia novorum have been crucial to historians' attempts to explore the history of the English state under the Norman kings, especially in its relationship to 'the church'. For many years perhaps the standard account of these matters has been Professor Barlow's The English Church, 1066-1154., which draws heavily on Eadmer, not least in chapter seven, 'Church and State'. For example, Eadmer is the only source cited for Barlow's statements that William the Conqueror 'drew the boundaries' for papal intervention in England, the first line of defence being 'to channel all traffic between Rome and his dominions through [William's] own hands'.4 This is a particularly crucial point in any account of Norman England which seeks to follow Campbell in his argument that in 1066 'England was a nation state', since it speaks very clearly to the issues of jurisdictional supremacy within an integral territory which political theorists have tended to identify as essential characteristics of the nation state.5 Nor does this exhaust the extent to which Barlow's view of 'church and state' is shaped by Eadmer. Eadmer also provides most of the evidence that Barlow cites for his account of Anselm's encounters with Rufus, of Anselm's views on 'Church and State', and (albeit to a lesser extent) of Anselm's relations with Henry I.6 Other scholars have sought to amend in certain respects the picture of 'church and state' derived from Eadmer. In perhaps the most important recent analysis of the relations between England and the papacy in Lanfranc's time, Mr Cowdrey has argued, for instance, that the idea of William the Conqueror 'erecting a ring-fence about England which would exclude papal authority and intervention' must be modified because Eadmer, whose testimony is an important prop to the argument, was writing with hindsight, and other evidence demonstrates that under the Conqueror 'the ring-fence was far from complete'.7 Indeed, even Southern, who has done more than anyone else to encourage and to further the study of Eadmer, has argued that he has in some respects misled modern scholarship: p. 8 and note, and compare The Life of Bishop Wilfrid by Eddius Stephanas, ed. and trans. B. Colgrave (Cambridge, 1927), p. 33. F. Barlow, The English Church, 1066-1154 (London, 1979), p. 279 and nn. 38-40. J. Campbell, 'The Late Anglo-Saxon State: A Maximum View', Proceedings of the British Academy, 87 (1995), 39-65, at 47. For some examples of such political theorists, see H. Spruyt, The Sovereign State and its Competitors: An Analysis of Systems Change (Princeton, 1994), pp. 3, 193-5. 6 Barlow, English Church, pp. 287-92 and nn. 55, 57, 59, 61-6, 69-71, 73-4, 77-9 (on Rufus's reign); pp. 297-303 and nn. 96, 99, 102, 103, 106-7, 109, 118, 120 (on Henry's reign). The index s.v. 'Eadmer' notes eleven textual references, 'and cited passim'. 7 H. E. J. Cowdrey, 'Lanfranc, the Papacy, and the See of Canterbury', in Lanfranco di Pavia e I'Europa del secolo XI, ed. G. d'Onofrio (Rome, 1993), pp. 438-500, at pp. 479-80. 4

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The emphasis which has often been given to [Anselm's] quarrelling with the king comes partly from the desire to see him doing something in the area of ecclesiastical politics, and partly from the misleading emphasis of Eadmer's Historia Novorum, which (as its name implies) was written to support a theory about the events of the time, which was certainly not in the minds of either Anselm or Eadmer in Rufus's reign.8

None the less, Eadmer remains central to historians' accounts of the English state under the Norman kings and its relations to 'the church'. Indeed, Southern's partial remedy for overdependence on the Historia novorum is a greater emphasis on the Life of St Anselm.9 These works have been even more central to some scholars' analyses of AngloNorman kingship: consider, for example, the argument that the Historia novorum is one of the first places, perhaps the first, where 'corona . . . begins to mean something more than, and something more specific than, simply a physical symbol of regality'.10 Even Professor Gillingham's eloquent rehabilitation of the historical value of the account of William Rufus in Gaimar's Estoire des Engleis allows that his 'precious early evidence of an alternative and secular set of values' forms a complementary corrective to the distortions of monastic historians, chief among them Eadmer.1 * Of course, it is perfectly natural and proper that Eadmer's testimony should be valued, not least when he is describing events which he witnessed himself. However, we have already seen that even Southern has reservations about how far Eadmer actually chose to tell us straightforwardly what he had heard or seen. Dr Garnett's view of the development of the idea of the crown as metonym stresses Eadmer's use of irony.12 Others have been more radical. Professor Vaughn, for example, has argued that the Historia novorum describes Anselm's archiepiscopate in terms of 'subtle, sophisticated and complex ideas', not least in 'Anselm's recapitulation . . . of archetypical Christian exempla ranging throughout the history of the Church, and especially his predecessors at Canterbury'.13 While Vaughn's view has not commanded unanimous agreement, Dr Staunton has demonstrated how, in a comparable way, the Life of St Anselm draws on a wealth of theological and literary R. W. Southern, St Anselm: A Portrait in a Landscape (Cambridge, 1990), p. 247. Ibid., p. 248. 10 G. Garnet!, 'The Origins of the Crown', in The History of English Law: Centenary Essays on 'Pollock and Maitland", ed. J. Hudson (Oxford, 1996), pp. 171-214, at p. 174. 11 J. Gillingham, 'Kingship, Chivalry and Love. Political and Cultural Values in the Earliest History Written in French: Geoffrey Gaimar's Estoire des Engleis', in AngloNorman Political Culture and the Twelfth-Century Renaissance, ed. C. W. Hollister (Woodbridge, 1997), PP- 33~58, at p. 57. 12 Garnett, 'The Crown', pp. 181-3. 13 S. N. Vaughn, 'Eadmer's Historia Novorum: A Reinterpretation', Anglo-Norman Studies, 10 (1988), 259-89, at 263. 8

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sources to provide 'a complex picture of Anselm which simultaneously represents his life and acts as an exegetical mediation upon it'.14 There can be little doubt that Eadmer's Lives of the saints of previous generations, in particular of Archbishops Bregwine, Oda and Dunstan of Canterbury, and Wilfrid and Oswald of York, represent a huge, potential source, not least for historians of Christ Church, Canterbury, in the years after the Norman Conquest. They also provide vital evidence about Eadmer himself ('the voice of Christ Church in the last decade of the eleventh century through into the H2o's'),15 his attitudes, his knowledge, and his methods as a writer about the past. Since Eadmer is a mainstay of historians' views on 'church and state', it follows that the Lives might also yield important evidence here. Yet they have been somewhat neglected, to the detriment of our understanding of these issues. A comparison of the beginning of the Historia novorum with the Life of St Dunstan provides a suggestive example. Eadmer begins the Historia with the image of Edgar, ruling the whole of England with holy laws, in co-operation with Dunstan, ordering all Britain by Christian laws. Guided by Dunstan, Eadmer says, Edgar proved himself devoted to God and a victor over the incursions of the 'barbarians'. While both lived, England enjoyed 'peace and happy days'. After Edgar's death his son proved to be a suitable successor until he was treacherously killed by his stepmother and replaced by her son ^Ethelred. This elicited from Dunstan a bloodcurdling prophecy of regal and national doom, the fulfilment of which could be read in the chronicles and 'in our tribulations'.16 Dr Williams has rightly described this passage as 'a eulogy of the "golden age" of Edgar and Dunstan', and noted that 'from this point Eadmer records a steady decline'.17 All the elements Eadmer used in the opening of his Historia (apart from Edgar's victories) can be found in Eadmer's Life of St Dunstan. Indeed Dunstan's prophecy is verbally similar in both books, and in the Life the peace of Edgar and Dunstan's lives is stressed by being made the fulfilment of an angelic prophecy to Dunstan at Edgar's birth.18 However, the Life also gives some rather different impressions of his reign. 14 M. Staunton, 'Eadmer's Vita Anselmi: A Reinterpretation', Journal of Medieval History, 23 (1997), 1-14, at 14. See also Staunton's comments on the Historia novorum in his 'Trial and Inspiration in the Lives of Anselm and Thomas Becket', in Anselm: Aosta, Bee and Canterbury: Papers in Commemoration of the Nine-Hundredth Anniversary ofAnselm's Enthronement as Archbishop, 25 September 1093, ed. D. E. Luscombe and G. R. Evans (Sheffield, 1996), pp. 310-22, at pp. 313-14. 15 M. T. Gibson, 'Normans and Angevins, 1070-1220', in A History of Canterbury Cathedral, ed. P. Collinson, N. Ramsay and M. Sparks (Oxford, 1995), pp. 38-68, at p. 4716 Eadmer, Historia novorum inAnglia, ed. M. Rule, Rolls Series (London, 1884), p. 3. 17 A. Williams, The English and the Norman Conquest (Woodbridge, 1995), p. 166. 18 See Eadmer, Vita Sancti Dunstani, pp. 183, 194-5, 2O5j 2 I I > 222-

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Although he eventually repents on each occasion and is reconciled to Dunstan, the king listens to evil counsellors and urges the primate to lift a just sentence of excommunication; Dunstan finds it necessary to forbid the king to hunt on Sundays; and, most importantly, Edgar lustfully molests a young lady at Wilton who tries to protect herself by wearing a borrowed veil, provoking Dunstan to a most public rebuke and the king to grovelling humiliation.19 The image of Edgar and his immediate successors which begins the Historia novorum and which seems to bear so much weight there in setting the pattern of Eadmer's history is thus not the same as that found in the Life of St Dunstan. Indeed it is tempting to conclude that the difference might demonstrate Eadmer manipulating history to serve his rhetorical and polemical purposes in the Historia, and in particular as a means of stressing the disasters which had fallen on England from Dunstan's death until the time of writing. However, it is vital that we should not forget the warning with which we began.20 Eadmer's hagiographies are no less complex, no less intractable than those of his contemporaries. They raise all sorts of problems. At the most basic level, by no means all of the texts are even securely established. For the Lives of Wilfrid and Bregwine there are modern editions, and the Life of St Dunstan was edited by Stubbs. But its modern editors describe the edition of the Life ofSt Wilfrid in Raine's Historians of the Church of York as 'so riddled with faults that it is practically useless as a critical tool', and it is to be feared that the edition of the Life of St Oswald in the same collection (which is the only one available) is no more secure.21 Perhaps even more alarmingly, the most readily accessible edition of the Life of St Oda even attributes it to the wrong author.22 Then there is the question of dating. In order to base any firm argument on Eadmer's hagiographies it would be necessary to establish a definite chronology for their composition as a means of relating them to the various stages in the composition of the Life of St Anselm and the Historia novorum. This is simply impossible, since dating the Lives depends for the most part on inference from hints in the text, and is therefore always likely to remain open to question.23 19

Ibid., pp. 200, 207, 209-11. It is hard to think that the story of the non-professed noblewoman at Wilton and her veil did not have contemporary resonances either in the career of Edith-Matilda, Henry I's queen, or Harold's daughter, Gunhild (see Southern, St Anselm: A Portrait, pp. 260-4). 20 Campbell, 'Twelfth-Century Views', 227, quoted above, p. 93. 21 Eadmer, Vita Sancti Wilfridi, p. Ixxxiv. 22 Eadmer, Vita Sancti Odonis, col. 933. Contrast Southern, St Anselm and his Biographer, pp. 279-81. 23 See Eadmer, Vita Sancti Wilfridi, pp. xxix-xx, for criticism of Southern's two attempts at dating in St Anselm and his Biographer, p. 367, and St Anselm: A Portrait, p. 408.

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In these circumstances caution is an essential tool; we can do little more than point to possibilities and note resonances. For example, Osbern's Life of St Dunstan very briefly praises Dunstan's refusal to celebrate Whitsun mass until three false moneyers had received due punishment.24 Eadmer tells the same story with a wealth of corroborative detail, putting into Dunstan's mouth a page-long impassioned denunciation of the crimes of false moneyers as despoilers of the whole realm, forbidding the punishment to be postponed out of deference to the feast. When Dunstan hears that sentence (loss of a hand) has been executed, he begins the mass 'with cheerful expression (exhilarato vultuy.25 Given that Southern dates Eadmer's Life after 1095 and probably before 1109, and that Henry I's reign is notorious for problems with the coinage, it does not seem unlikely that Eadmer is here attempting to mobilize the patronage of Dunstan against the troubles of his own day in precisely the way in which he urges his readers to do at the end of the Life.26 Since an 'elaborate and sophisticated system for managing the currency' was one of the leading characteristics of the English state,27 in this story we seem to be seeing an important part of Eadmer's view of how prelates should act in relation to it. Dunstan does not allow conventional piety to prevent even the bloodiest justice being done; indeed he sees it as his responsibility to his flock and to God to encourage such justice to be done. By the same token, however, some resonances may be misleading. We must be careful not to force the evidence. Modern historians have been inclined to think that Dunstan's charge that /Bthelred II 'had gained the kingdom through a brother's blood', might equally well be applied to Henry I.28 But, although Eadmer points both to the events recorded in chronicles and 'our tribulations' as fulfilling the kingly and national doom provoked by ALthelred's shedding of blood, he seems to show no deviation from his line that William Rufus 'was struck down and killed by the just judgement of God'.29 It would thus seem rather rash to see the prominence of Dunstan's prophecy in the Historia novorum as a covert attack on Henry I. Osbern, Vita Sancti Dunstani, Memorials of St Dunstan, p. 106. Eadmer, Vita Sancti Dunstani, pp. 202-3. 26 Southern, StAnselm and his Biographer, p. 281 n. 2; Eadmer, Vita Sancti Dunstani, p. 222. Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 193, mentions Henry's effort in 1108 to deal with 'moneta corrupta et falsa'. 27 J. Campbell, 'The Significance of the Anglo-Norman State in the Administrative History of Western Europe', in Essays, pp. 155-89, at p. 187. 28 See, e.g. A. L. Poole, From Domesday Book to Magna Carta, 1087-1216 (2nd edn, Oxford, 1955), pp. 113-14. For Dunstan's accusation against /Ethelred, see Eadmer, Vita Sancti Dunstani, p. 215, 'per sanguinem fratris regnum obtinuerat'; and compare Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 3, 'per sanguinem fratris ad regnum aspiravit'. 29 Eadmer, Historia novorum, pp. 3, 116. 24

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Further complexity is added by Eadmer's relationship with his sources. Eadmer could hardly be said to have been neutral and objective when it came to assessing the rights and prerogatives of Christ Church, Canterbury., and its archbishops. Chief among those rights was the claim to primacy over the British Isles, 'in which', as Eadmer's King Eadred prophesied to Dunstan, 'you will act in place of that Apostle [Peter] and the power of binding and loosing which he accepted over the whole world, you will accept from him over all the provinces of England and of the adjacent islands'.30 As Gransden has pointed out, his Canterbury partisanship led Eadmer into his 'worst sin as a historian', 'his willingness to become an accessory to forgery', including in the Historia novorum papal privileges which at the very least he must have known to have been recently concocted in the effort to bolster Canterbury's tottering claim to primacy over York.31 Indeed Eadmer was so committed to the jurisdiction of Canterbury over North Britain that he relinquished the see of St Andrews rather than diminish it.32 Thus when Eadmer claims that 'Theodore restored blessed Wilfrid to the bishopric of the church of York, and also of all the Northumbrians, and also of the Picts as far as King Oswy was able to extend his authority (imperiumy., a modern historian might be inclined to think that he is deliberately being somewhat tendentious.33 However, in this case we are fortunate enough to have Eadmer's sources. The assertion that Wilfrid was restored to his see by Theodore seems to come from Eddius Stephanus; and the crucial phrase about the extent of Wilfrid's authority is taken verbatim from Bede ('the most noble author of the history of our people').34 Here, then, where Eadmer might most be expected to be accommodating his account of the past to his ideals for the past and present, he seems to be representing his sources perfectly fairly. In the case of Wilfrid, this was actually far from easy. Famously, '[Bede's] account differs from that of Eddius': 'Eddius was a very dutiful biographer and shows the great bishop in all his glory: ascetic, brave, and always right', whereas 'Bede's discretion is most apparent in his treatment of Wilfrid'.35 Obtaining a coherent (and edifying) single Eadmer, Vita Sancti Dunstani, p. 187. Compare Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 189, 'Archiepiscopus Cantuariensis primus est totius Angliae, Scottiae, Hiberniae, et adjacientium insularum', and 'Britannia, quam Angli . . . Angliam uocant . . .' (Eadmer, Vita Sancti Wilfridi, p. 8). 31 Gransden, Historical Writing, p. 141. The question of exactly who made the forgeries and exactly when has still not been entirely satisfactorily resolved. 32 Eadmer, Historia novorum, pp. 29-80. 33 Eadmer, Vita Sancti Wilfridi, p. 48. 34 Eddius, Life of Bishop Wilfrid, p. 32; Bede's Ecclesiastical History of the English People, ed. B. Colgrave and R. A. B. Mynors (Oxford, 1969), bk iv, ch. 3 (p. 336); Eadmer, Vita Sancti Wilfridi, p. 10. 35 J. Campbell, 'Bede F, in Essays, pp. 1-27, at p. 20; 'Bede II', ibid., pp. 29-48, at p. 41. 30

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narrative from these two must have been hard. One crucial issue (which also bears very strongly on Eadmer's views of 'church and state') was Oswy's motivation in having the Irish-influenced Chad appointed bishop apparently in Wilfrid's place while Wilfrid was abroad seeking consecration. Eddius asserts that the king, who had been brought up by the Quartodeciman party (Eddius's term of abuse for those Irish who disagreed with Wilfrid about the calculation of Easter) was moved by envy and the urgings of the devil to intrude Chad irregularly.36 Bede, on the other hand, says that King Alhfrith, Oswy's son, sent Wilfrid abroad to be consecrated; and while Wilfrid 'lingered' abroad, Oswy imitated the industria of his son and sent a holy man to be consecrated bishop.37 In Eadmer's version the Celtic party seek to entrap Oswy while Wilfrid is spending time abroad, and persuade him to appoint Chad bishop of York, ' "lest, the church having lacked a pastor for too long, the faith of Christ should suffer any injury; especially since it scarcely", they said, "knew where Wilfrid had gone" '.38 Eadmer thus combines elements from both sources; the wickedness of the Celtic party from Eddius, the king's good intentions from Bede. He does so, partly through the half-true, convincing and convincingly insinuating speech he invents for the wicked courtiers. This is characteristic of Eadmer in two ways. First, we can echo Southern's verdict on the Life of St Anselm, 'No one who reads the biography can doubt that Eadmer's chief claim to fame lies in his mastery of the art of recording the spoken word in a vivid and natural way',39 except that in the case of the Life of St Wilfrid there is, of course, no question of his recording the speech. Secondly, the influence of counsel and advisers over kings is a recurring theme of Eadmer's hagiography. According to the Life of St Dunstan, Dunstan was amazed that Edgar ('the religious king') had been 'seduced through a man's lying tongue', when he was persuaded by 'a certain very powerful conies' to oppose his excommunication by Dunstan.40 Eadwig rejects the advice of the elders in favour of the young men with whom he surrounds himself as 'companions and attendants', a rejection associated by Eadmer with Eadwig's spectacular lack of kingly virtue: he was 'a lover of sensual pleasures rather than God, of dissipation rather than sobriety, lusts rather than chastity'.41 Kings, on the other hand, could be shown the right way by (arch)bishops and others. To name only two, that 'most victorious King of the English', Eddius, Life of Bishop Wilfrid, pp. 30-1. Bede, iii. 28 (pp. 314-17) 38 Eadmer, Vita Sancti Wilfridi, pp. 36-8. 39 Southern, St Anselm: A Portrait, p. 421. 40 Eadmer, Vita Sancti Dunstani, p. 200. 41 Eadmer, Vita Sancti Odonis, col. 940 (compare Vita Sancti Oswaldi, p. 4, and Vita Sancti Dunstani, p. 188). 36

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ALthelstan, had Oda always with him and listened to his advice, while Wihtred of Kent freed all the churches of his kingdom at the instigation and exhortation of Archbishop Berhtwald.42 Assimilating Eddius and Bede, both contemporaries of the saint, into his own Life of Wilfrid., was complex enough, but Eadmer also had to deal with the accumulations of four hundred years of pious tradition, most concretely in the form of a rather difficult tenth-century poem which he believed to be by Archbishop Oda of Canterbury.43 At Christ Church, Canterbury, partly on the evidence of this Breviloquium, it was believed that Oda had translated Wilfrid's relics from derelict Ripon. Eadmer's hagiographical studies, however, seem to have revealed to him the rival tradition that Oswald had later found the relics at Ripon and reinterred them there. Eadmer attempts what the recent editors of the Life of St Wilfrid believe to be an original solution to this dispute, which William of Malmesbury thought insoluble; he says that Oda left a small portion of the relics behind at Ripon.44 Thus, once again, Eadmer was able to reconcile two contradictory sources without contradicting either of them.45 He also shows himself capable of a rational, circumspect and rather irenic championing of the Christ Church version.46 From the historiographical point of view, the problem of the location of Wilfrid's relics was comparatively easily resolved. Much more difficult were the dilemmas raised by Wilfrid's relations with Archbishop Theodore. For anyone with a respect for Bede and an enthusiasm for the authority of Canterbury (and Eadmer had both in large measure), Theodore was bound to be an important figure; 'he was the first of the archbishops whom the whole church of the English consented to obey', and his were the happiest times since the English had come to Britain, with barbarians fearing brave Christian kings, all striving for the joys of the heavenly kingdom, and with learning flourishing.47 Eadmer certainly concurred with this: 'At that time the kingdom of the English people used to shine with twin beauty, since both the kings used to glow with the love of Christianity, and the prelates used to practise with Eadmer, Vita Sancti Oswaldi, p. 3; Vita Beati Bregowini, p. 137. Eadmer, Vita Sancti Wilfridi, pp. xiii, 10-12. See Southern, St Anselm and his Biographer, p. 279: 'its strange Latinity made it barely intelligible'. 44 Eadmer, Vita Sancti Wilfridi, pp. xxiii, 142-6 and note at p. 245; compare Vita Sancti Oswaldi, pp. 30-1. 45 Pace the impression given by Southern, St Anselm and his Biographer, p. 278, Eadmer does not 'establish the Canterbury version in a definitive way' by dismissing the other. 46 Contrast R. Sharpe, 'Eadmer's Letter to the Monks of Glastonbury Concerning St Dunstan's Disputed Remains', in The Archaeology and History of Glastonbury Abbey: Essays in Honour of the Ninetieth Birthday ofC.A. Ralegh Radford, ed. L. Abrams and J. P. Carley (Woodbridge, 1991), pp. 205-15. 47 Bede, iv. 2 (pp. 332-4). 42

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greatest zeal the working of the divine mystery.'48 Eddius's Theodore is very different. He is bribed by King Ecgfrith to act against Wilfrid, condemns him in his absence, and irregularly shares his diocese out among three others. When Wilfrid challenges their actions, king and archbishop admit his innocence but tartly refuse to change their decree, 'a fraudulent judgement'. An unsuccessful attempt to bamboozle the papal court with tricky accusations against Wilfrid is then made in Theodore's name.49 Eadmer adopted several approaches to these problems. First, he softened Eddius's charges against Theodore. He was not bribed, but mistakenly persuaded by false accusations. The reply to Wilfrid's challenge remains tart, but Eadmer carefully distances himself from it with 'ut fertur', and demotes it from a fraudulent judgement to words which were not to Wilfrid's satisfaction.50 Although the hearing in the papal court is in the presence of Wilfrid's accusers, we hear nothing of the charges they bring.51 Secondly, as part of this general lowering of the temperature, Eadmer stressed Wilfrid's Canterbury connections. Eddius's account suggested that Wilfrid's involvement in Canterbury during the vacancy after Archbishop Deusdedit's death was occasional and minor, and Bede mentions almost in passing that Wilfrid then ordained priests and deacons 'even in Kent'. Eadmer, on the other hand, has him spend three years at Canterbury, much occupied with episcopal business.52 This, for example, allows Oda's translation of Wilfrid's relics to be presented as something of a homecoming.53 Thirdly, perhaps inspired by Bede's comment that Theodore was 'the first of the archbishops whom the whole church of the English consented to obey', Eadmer portrays Canterbury as the 'metropolitan see of all England' and its archbishops in Wilfrid's time as exercising uncontested the sort of jurisdiction exercised by a metropolitan of his own day.54 In some respects this is an excellent example of intractability: it is not possible to say exactly what Eadmer is trying to do here. It may be that he has simply and rather uncritically translated into the past the institutions of his own day. However, there are some odd resonances. Eadmer is writing 'the life of St Wilfrid, arc/zbishop of Eadmer, Vita Sancti Wilfridi, p. 54. Eddius, Life of Bishop Wilfrid, p. 48-50. 50 Eadmer, Vita Sancti Wilfridi, p. 66. 51 Ibid., p. 78. 52 Eddius, Life of Bishop Wilfrid, p. 31; Bede, iv. 2 (pp. 332-4) p. 334; Eadmer, Vita Sancti Wilfridi, pp. 42-4. 53 Eadmer, Vita Sancti Wilfridi, pp. 144-6. 54 Bede, iv. 2 (pp. 332-4); Eadmer, Vita Sancti Wilfridi, p. 42. Notice that in this context 'Anglia' seems to mean the same as 'Britannia'; compare ibid., p. 8, 'Britain . . . which the English call England', and p. 116, Archbishop Berhtwald of Canterbury summons 'a general council of the bishops of all Britain'. 48

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York and confessor';55 an archbishop who had jurisdiction over one or more archbishops was a primate, yet the jurisdiction of Theodore and Berhtwald is of metropolitans of all England or Britain. Precisely the claim that Canterbury was 'metropolitan of all Britain' brought Anselm's consecration to a halt, Eadmer tells us, when Archbishop Thomas of York protested that it implied that his own see could not be metropolitan. He would not proceed with the service until the documents had been amended to 'primate of all Britain'.56 However, it is clear that at a literary level the assumption of the undisputed jurisdiction of Canterbury helps Eadmer to promote Wilfrid's cult, praising him as highly as Eddius does, while not diminishing the reputation of Theodore, a crucial figure in Canterbury's history, albeit one who was culted at Christ Church's great Canterbury rival, St Augustine's. Southern acknowledges the 'great discretion' with which Eadmer went about his task in the Life of Wilfrid; it is very striking that James Campbell should have selected Bede's portrait of Wilfrid as an example of Bede's discretion.57 This is not entirely a coincidence. There is something perhaps just a little Bedan about Eadmer's hagiographies. Certainly there are sentiments, ideas and patterns in the Prologue of the Life ofSt Duns tan - an expressed desire to get the facts right and to write edifyingly, faith in the testimony of the seniors, and the listing of methodology and helpers - which seem to bear broad comparison to Bede's 'Preface'.58 Eadmer's methods of dealing with conflicting evidence belong with those of Bede, who worked 'either by silent conflation, or by silent discarding', rather than with the distinctively twelfthcentury attempts at open reconciliation of which some of Eadmer's contemporaries were capable.59 Both excel at inventing speech. Where, then, does this consideration of the historiographical intricacies of Eadmer's Lives leave an assessment of his writings as a commentary on early twelfth-century discussions of 'church and state'? The insights and approach gleaned from Eadmer's hagiographies can fruitfully be applied to his account in the Historia novorum of the council of Rockingham of 1095, one of the key episodes in Anselm's deteriorating relationship with Rufus and vital to a number of modern arguments about the state.60 This is no simple eyewitness description, but an accomplished literary composition. Eadmer presents Anselm as Job, a righteous man struck down by unmerited misfortune, surrounded by 55 56 57 58 59 60

Ibid., p. 8.

Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 42. Southern, St Anselm and his Biographer, p. 279; Campbell, 'Bede F, p. 20. Compare Eadmer, Vita Sancti Dunstani, pp. 162-4, and Bede, pp. 4-6. Campbell, 'Twelfth-Century Views', 213-14. For example, Garnett, 'The Crown', p. 175.

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false friends., and with Scripture as his only support.61 He stresses the importance of the comparison by putting it into the mouth of 'a knight coming out of the crowd', and mentioning how it suggested to Anselm the scriptural text 'the voice of the people is the voice of God'.62 Earlier, his suffragans (pkbis pastores) and the barons (populorum principes) had refused to give him advice in accordance with God which might contradict the king's will; so, Eadmer tells us, Anselm announced that he would turn 'to the chief Pastor and Prince of all ... to the Angel of Great Counsel'. Anselm quoted the biblical texts in which Christ thus gave him counsel of the highest authority: 'These words, these counsels are of God. These I approve, these I accept, from these for no reason will I depart.'63 It was political and forensic necessity that rendered such unimpeachable authority essential. Simply to cite the canons about episcopal trials in support of an appeal to Rome, as Bishop William of Durham had done in io88,64 was not a course of action open to Anselm in1095, since the very point at issue at Rockingham was the recognition of the pope. If he had attempted to appeal to these canons, Anselm would have laid himself open to the same objection he had already met at Gillingham: 'From which pope . . .?' Worse still, he might have been held to have proved the truth of the accusation of treasonable diminution of the royal prerogative which had been made against him.65 By contrast, an appeal to the (seemingly) unvarnished words of Scripture gained for Anselm both the moral and the rhetorical high ground. According to Eadmer, the task he thus set his opponents was to compose a reply 'which would both moderate the royal hatred, and not directly attack the previously quoted opinions of God'.66 While it remains for the most part an undercurrent in his account, Eadmer was careful to show Anselm's arguments at Rockingham as being wholly in accordance with canon law. According to Eadmer, Anselm's main opponent, Bishop William of Durham, could not answer the archbishop's arguments, ' "especially since all", he said, "his reasoning rests on the words of God and the authority of Blessed Peter'". By his own account Eadmer was not at the meeting when the bishop supposedly made this speech; the archbishop's party was waiting elsewhere. At best he might have had a generalized report of Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 61. Compare Eadmer, Vita Sancti Oswaldi, pp. 26, 48. 63 Eadmer, Historia novorum, pp. 56-7. 64 For a defence of the contemporaneity of the account of the trial of Bishop William, see M. Philpott, 'The De Iniusta Uexacione Wilklmi Episcopi Primi and Canon Law in Anglo-Norman Durham', in Anglo-Norman Durham, 1093-1193, ed. D. Rollason, M. Harvey and M. Prestwich (Woodbridge, 1994), pp. 125-37. 65 Eadmer, Historia novorum, pp. 52-3. 66 Ibid., p. 58. 61

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what had happened.67 It may be no more accurate a report than the splendid flight of fancy Eadmer invented for, say, Queen lurminburg of Northumbria.68 Eadmer would thus seem to be using this speech to make a point. Like St Wilfrid, who, with his papal letters of restoration, is 'supported by the most holy Word and the authority of Blessed Peter', Anselm is arguing a canonical case.69 This can be traced in Anselm's Angel of Good Counsel speech. The biblical texts revealed by the Angel are Matthew 16:18-19, Luke 10:16, and Zechariah 2:8. These led Eadmer's Anselm to the conclusion, 'Haec, sicut principaliter Beato Petro et in ipso caeteris apostolis dicta accipimus, ita principaliter vicario Beati Petri et per ipsum caeteris episcopis qui vices agunt apostolorum eadem dicta tenemus; non cuilibet imperatori, non alicui regi, non duci, non comiti.'70 This position, and these texts, are to be found repeatedly in the authorities of canon law, not least in the collection which Lanfranc had brought to Canterbury from Bee, now Trinity College, Cambridge, MS B 16 44.71 The implications of Petrine primacy, especially in relation to lay powers, had of course long been a deeply controversial subject. Anselm's comments seem to align him to some extent with Gregory VII. Gregory characteristically interpolated the word principaliter into the Petrine commission when drafting letters himself.72 In addition, while attempting to persuade Henry IV that he should have greater respect for 'the master of the Church . . . Blessed Peter the prince of the apostles', Gregory cited Christ's commission to Peter and applied to the apostles and their successors the Lord's saying, 'who hears you, hears me, and who spurns you, spurns me'.73 When Gregory reproved 67

Ibid., p. 62.

Eadmer, Vita Sancti Wilfridi, pp. 64-6. Ibid., p. 94Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 57. 71 See, for example, Trinity College, Cambridge, MS B 16 44, fos ir, 4v, jv (two quotations); lov (c. iv), I2v, I3r-v (four). These are printed in Decretales PseudoIsidorianae et capitula Angrilramni, ed. P. Hinschius (Leipzig, 1863), respectively at p. 31, Epistola I dementis, c. ii; p. 41, c. xxxvii; p. 51, Epistola II dementis, c. liv, and p. 53, Epistola III dementis, c. Ivii; p. 74, Epistola I Anackti, c. xvii; p. 91, Epistola II Evaristi, c. y j PP- 95~7? Epistola I Akxandri, cc. ii, iv, v (two). Eadmer wrote in the MS; see T. Webber, 'Script and Manuscript Production at Christ Church, Canterbury, after the Norman Conquest', in Canterbury and the Norman Conquest: Churches, Saints and Scholars, 1066-1109, ed. R. Bales and R. Sharpe (London, 1995), pp. 145-58, at p. 149, n. 18. Anselm probably knew the MS; see M. Philpott, '"In Primis . . . Omnis Humanae Prudentiae Inscius et Expers Putaretur": St Anselm's Knowledge of Canon Law', in Anselm, Aosta, Bee and Canterbury, pp. 94-105. 72 See Gregorii VII Registntm, ed. E. Caspar (Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Epistolae Selectae, 2; Berlin, 1920-3), iv, 2, p. 295 and n. Compare ii, 70, p. 230; and ii, 72, p. 233. 73 Gregory VII, Registrum, iii, 10, pp. 264-5. 68 69 70

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William I for imprisoning Bishop Ode, in a letter that Anselm and Eadmer may well have known and would certainly have found germane., he cited the text from Zechariah later angelically revealed to Anselm.74 But it is in Gregory's famous and widely circulated letter to Bishop Hermann of Metz that we find the most striking precursors to Anselm's reported arguments of 1095. Of kings and emperors he asks, 'cui eorum data est potestas ligandi solvendique in caelo et in terra?' Elsewhere in the letter he makes perfectly plain that all Christian people are subject to Christ's commission to Peter and thus to the privilege conceded to him principaliter.75 Anselm did not make this last point explicit, but he certainly had said enough to justify the tumult that Eadmer tells us followed the speech.76 But Anselm and Gregory certainly parted company as the Angel led Anselm further: 'Render unto Caesar those things that are Caesar's, and those things which are God's to God.'77 Gregory does not seem to have quoted this text once in his correspondence.78 He was quite sure that the secular power was completely subject to the spiritual, and especially to Peter's power of binding and loosing.79 Eadmer's account of Anselm's argument seems to have owed more to the sort of position adopted by Lanfranc in his commentary on the Pauline epistles, where he asserted that Christian kings bore swords to defend the peace necessary to the church and that to resist them in those things pertaining to them was to resist the ordinance of God.80 Perhaps Anselm's argument owed more to Lanfranc, for their attitude to the commission in Matthew 16:18-19 was similar too. Lanfranc argued that it was 'to be understood of the pastors of the holy church . . . chiefly, however, of the Roman church'.81 Gregory VII, Registrum, ix, 37, pp. 630-1. Gregory VII, Registrum, viii, 21, p. 556 (on p. 558 he expands his comments to include other princes) and pp. 548-9. 76 Eadmer, Historia novorum, pp. 57-8. 77 Matthew 22:21, Mark 12:17 or Luke 20:25. 78 It certainly does not occur in the index in Gregory VII, Registrum, or the 'Index of Quotations and Allusions' in The Epistolae Vagantes of Pope Gregory VII, ed. H. E. J. Cowdrey (Oxford, 1972), p. 169. However, we must note the possibility that Gregory's quotation (Registrum, ix, 37, p. 631) of Constantine's supposed remark about bishops, 'Vos dei estis . . . non oportet ut nos homines deos presumamus iudicare' suggested the text to Anselm. The biblical passage does not appear to be in Trinity College, Cambridge, MS B 16 44. 79 See, for example, Gregory VII, Registrum, iv, 2, p. 295; iv, 24, p. 338; vii, 143 p. 487; viii, 21 pp. 548 and 550. 80 Romans 13:2, and Lanfranc's comment on it in Beati Lanfranci archiepiscopi Cantuariensis opera quae supersunt omnia, ed. J. A. Giles (Oxford/Paris, 1844), p. 37, s.v. Itaque qui resistit potestati. 81 Lanfranc, Liber de corpore et sanguine Domini, Patrologia Latina, 150, cols 407-42, at 426. But see the arguments of R. B. C. Huygens, 'Berenger de Tours, Lanfranc et Bernold de Constance', Sacris Erudiri, 16 (1965), 355-403. I quote from Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Bodley 569, fo. ir. 74

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The climax of Eadmer's account of Anselm's defence at Rockingham is when the archbishop declares that anyone who accuses him 'in nomine Domini me paratum inveniet ei sicut debeo, et ubi debeo, respondere'.82 Just in case his readers (unlike the members of Rufus's court) missed the allusion,83 Eadmer makes absolutely plain what Anselm had in mind: 'videlicet archiepiscopum Cantuariensem a nullo hominum, nisi a solo papa, judicari posse vel damnari, nee ab aliquo cogi pro quavis calumnia cuiquam, eo excepto, contra suum velle respondere.'84 Although Eadmer, characteristically, twists it to make it appear to be a peculiar right of Canterbury, this was certainly an accurate statement of the pseudo-Isidorian canon law.85 In his description of the council of Rockingham, Eadmer showed Anselm arguing his case entirely along the lines suggested by the canons, and presenting it with shrewd advocacy. Anselm was not entirely without competence in canonical matters, and no doubt he made good use of the truce he obtained from Rufus before Rockingham to marshal authorities he might need for the forthcoming confrontation.86 However, we must still allow that Eadmer used all the considerable literary and other resources at his command to present his hero's triumph. Indeed, read alongside Eadmer's hagiographical works, it seems possible that this might be one further example of a characteristic rewriting of historical material. At the very least, this suggests that either in the historian's study or in the council chamber pseudoIsidorian canon law may have been one of the forces that shaped the English state under its Norman kings. Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 61. Very strict conditions (including an appropriate place) are required for bishops' trials. As a primate, Anselm could only be forced to trial before the pope. See, for example, Decretales, ed. Hinschius, p. 185, Epistola II Stephani I, c. viii; p. 486, Epistola Felicis ad Athanasium cet., c. ix; p. 504, Epistola Damasi ad Stephanum, c. xv; p. 505, Epistola Damasi ad Stephanum, c. xix. Also in Trinity College, Cambridge, MS B 16 44, fos 24r (c. iv), 3yv~38r (c. viii), 4ov (c. vii), 4Ov (c. ix). 84 Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 61. 85 Neither primates, nor metropolitans could be judged by their suffragans; see, for example, Decretales, ed. Hinschius, p. 40, Epistola I dementis, c. xxxiii; p. 459, Epistola lulii ad orientales, c. v; p. 474, Epistola lulii ad Eusebium cet., c. xix (also at Trinity College, Cambridge, MS B 16 44, fos 4r, 3ir (c. i), 35v (c. xxxvi). If he wished to do so sponte, any bishop could answer accusers before a tribunal which was not competent to try him; Decretales, pp. 562-3, Decreta Sixti III papae; p. 503, Epistola Damasi ad Stephanum, c. xi. Trinity College, Cambridge, MS B 16 44, fos 5?v-58r, 4or (c. iv). 86 See Philpott, 'St Anselm's Knowledge', passim; Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 53. 82

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6 Henry I and Counsel JOHN HUDSON

Late in Lent 1105 Henry I, intent on wresting control of Normandy from his brother Robert Curthose, crossed the Channel and spent Easter at the village of Carentan. According to Orderic Vitalis, the first of the Normans to join him was Serlo, bishop of Sees. The bishop's Easter sermon lamented the oppression of the church permitted by Duke Robert, and urged that Henry 'Rise up boldly in the name of God, win your paternal inheritance with the sword of justice, and rescue your ancestral land and the people of God from the hands of reprobates.' . . . The king was encouraged by the bishop's words; after hearing the views of the magnates who were with him he said 'I will rise up to work for peace in the name of the Lord, and will devote my utmost endeavours to procure, with your help, the tranquillity of the church of God.' The count of Meulan was present to approve this counsel [consilium], and the other nobles who were there, far from rejecting it, eagerly urged their common leader to take up arms against the despoilers of the people for the preservation of Normandy. *

Thus the inspirational harangue of a bishop, the views of great men, the approval of a key royal supporter, and the more general urging of nobles, all had a part to play. At the same time, the advice urged upon the king coincided with his own desires. Advice and support, counsel and aid, were intimately linked. The subject of the king and counsel was long central to study of the Middle Ages.2 The role of the council, and its relationship to the king, The Ecclesiastical History of Orderic Vitalis, ed. and trans. M. Chibnall (6 vols, Oxford, 1969-80), vi. 60-4. I would like to thank Rob Bartlett and Matthew Strickland for their auxilium et consilium; final decisions remained mine. 2 My focus is deliberately upon the king, but counsel appears in a multiplicity of contexts and sources during Henry's reign. See e.g. Orderic, vi. 20: when in 1102 Henry summoned Robert of Belleme to answer charges concerning forty-five offences, Robert responded to the summons, and then was given permission 'that he might go to take counsel with his men, as is customary'. Note also hagiographical works such as Geoffrey of Burton's Life and Miracles of St Modwenna (in the Life Geoffrey added references to counsel to the earlier text, usually attributed to Concubranus writing in the eleventh century); and French vernacular texts like Gaimar's L'estoire des Engleis and La chanson de Roland. Roland includes instances varying from formal councils to the panicked 1

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is at the heart of Stubbs's Constitutional History. Stubbs paid particular attention to the composition of formal councils, emphasizing their role in legislation, taxation, and royal land grants, while also noting the prevalence of 'general business', such as the 'foreign and ecclesiastical policy of the king'.3 He closely associated questions of counsel with questions of consent. He rarely mentioned individual advisers or counsellors or the giving of advice outside formal councils, particularly before the Angevin period. Yet although Stubbs himself provided exceptionally profound and fertile insights, in some who continued to write in a similar tradition, interpretation grew sterile.4 Certainly questions such as who attended councils or why Henry allowed crownwearings to become less frequent still need to be asked. However, the subject can also be reinvigorated by examining a further range of issues, notably by fitting formal councils into a wider context of advice-giving. The vocabulary of the sources here merits examination. The AngloSaxon Chronicle distinguished reed, 'advice', from gewitenemot and similar words meaning 'great council'.5 In Latin, some distinction was made between the words concilium and consilium.6 Normally concilium was used specifically to mean a gathering. Consilium could have the same meaning but was a more flexibly used word, as was its French consultations of Oliver and Roland, the latter matching in desperation consultations with my undergraduate tutorial partner when we discovered a copy of Teach Yourself HomeWiring on James Campbell's table. W. Stubbs, The Constitutional History of England (3 vols, Oxford, 1874-8), i. 372-3; see also, e.g. i. 570. Note also, e.g. Constitutional History, i. 563-4, on the later twelfth century: 'The national council seems in one aspect to be a realisation of the principle which was introduced at the Conquest, and had been developed and grown in consistency under the Norman kings, that of a complete council of feudal tenants-in-chief. In another aspect it appears to be in a stage of transition towards that combined representation of the three estates and of the several provincial communities which especially marks our constitution, and which perhaps was the ideal, imperfectly grasped and more imperfectly realised, at which the statesmen of the middle ages almost unconsciously aimed.' The phraseology, particularly the emphasis on the 'ideal' reflects the influence - quite probably the direct influence - of German philosophy upon Stubbs: see J. Campbell, Stubbs and the English State (Reading, 1989), p. 6. Cf. Stubbs's comments of a rather different sort in Historical Introductions to the Rolls Series (London, 1902), pp. 89-91. 4 Note, for example, the contortions involved in the arguments of G. B. Adams, Councils and Courts in Anglo-Norman England (New Haven, Connecticut, 1926), pp. 107-11. 5 See below, pp. 112, 113. 6 Note, however, that Orderic used both conciliarius and consiliarius to mean counsellor, apparently without making a distinction: Orderic, i. 272, 275. 7 Dictionary of Medieval Latin from British Sources, ed. R. E. Latham et al. (in progress), pp. 419-20, 452; Orderic, i. 272, 275. The Abingdon chronicler's usage in his narratives is similarly consistent, in manuscripts of the later twelfth and early thirteenth centuries, although note the charter of Hugh earl of Chester, Chronicon monasterii de 3

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equivalent, conseil.7 These could mean advice, be it general, specific for example, relating to a law case - or even expert advice, for example, from a physician.8 But they could also mean information, decision, deliberation, opinion, or judgment in a law case. As such usage suggests, it is profitable to extend enquiries concerning counsel into a wide range of areas beyond consent to royal decisions and actions. Charters and chronicles provide the core of my evidence, but information remains sparse and assumptions rarely stated. These difficulties produce obvious problems of interpretation. It is difficult even to enumerate formal councils,9 and certainly no statistical approach can be taken to less formal advice-giving.10 Silence concerning counsel is no certain indication of the absence of counsel. This becomes clear when a charter and a chronicle record the same event. Thus the Worcester chronicle provides a summary of the grants included in Henry Fs Coronation Charter, but omits the references to counsel or consent to be found in the charter itself.11 Who counselled the king? It is useful to begin with a relatively straightforward list, despite variation according to circumstance and the type of advice being given. Charters and chronicles present the king receiving advice from God.12 As for earthly counsel, the chroniclers give details of formally summoned councils: At the following Whitsuntide festival [1109] King Henry held his court in London with great worldly pomp and rich ceremonial. After the more Abingdon, ed. J. Stevenson, 2 vols, Rolls Series (London, 1858), ii. 20, 'inueni in meo consilio'. Sometimes, perhaps, the two terms were used together for emphasis rather than completeness: William Fs decree concerning local and church courts states that he acted 'by the common council and counsel (concilia et consilio) of the archbishops and bishops and abbots and all the leading men of my realm': Die Gesetze der Angelsachsen, ed. F. Liebermann (3 vols, Halle, 1903-16), i. 485; Anglo-Norman Dictionary, ed. L. W. Stone and W. Rothwell, i (1977), p. 131; also, e.g. Chanson de Roland, lines 2750, 3779, 37938 See, e.g. Wace, Roman de Rou, ed. A. J. Holden (3 vols, Paris, 1970-3), lines 10443-8, on the peace of 1101. 9 E.g. Adams, Councils and Courts, is inconsistent in his treatment of crown-wearings, witness-lists, etc. 10 For example, documents with long witness-lists of prominent men are certainly records of large courts which may be called councils, but are no proof that those named gave advice on the issue recorded in the document. 11 Florence of Worcester, Chronicon ex Chronicis, ed. B. Thorpe (2 vols, London, 1848-9), ii. 47; cf. Liebermann, Gesetze, i. 522. 12 Note, e.g. Regesta Regum Anglo-Normannorum, ii, 7/00-1/55, ed. C. J. Johnson and H. A. Cronne (Oxford, 1956), no. 1591, a grant to St Stephen's, Plessis-Grimoult: 'diuine caritatis intuitu commonitus'.

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ceremonious (festiuioribus) days of his crown-wearing, the king began to discuss with the bishops and leading men of the realm what should be done about the consecration of the bishop-elect of the church of York.13 The king sent his writs over all England, and ordered his bishops and abbots and thegns all to come and meet him for his council (gewitenemot) on Candlemas day at Gloucester, and they did so.14

Yet major councils were not necessarily the best forum for consultation. Their formal proceedings often had more to do with royal display, and perhaps with the spreading of information, than with the taking of advice. In general they ratified decisions made beforehand by the king, perhaps in consultation with his closest advisers.15 Nevertheless, men of the type summoned to councils also acted as counsellors in a more general sense. Henry's grant of liberties to the New Minster, Winchester, states that 'my counsellors, the magnates of the realm' were present at the donation.16 More common are references to barons, a word perhaps particularly associated with giving counsel.17 Bishops were consulted, especially concerning ecclesiastical matters.18 Writers beyond England noted Henry's reliance on the older, wiser or greater men, notably at the start of his reign. Suger of Saint-Denis wrote that Henry, 'by counsel of experienced and honourable men', restored the law of former kings and confirmed the customs of the realm.19 Likewise Orderic commented that Henry did not follow the counsels of rash young men as Rehoboam did, but acutely took to heart the shrewdness and advice of wise and old men. He Eadmer, Historia Novorum inAnglia, ed. M. Rule, Rolls Series (London, 1994), p. 207. Note how the bishops later withdraw to consult among themselves, before coming to answer before the king. 14 Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, s.a. 1123; note also e.g. RRAN, ii. nos 619, 778*, 918, 1484. The sources refer to more such councils than before noo, and lay more emphasis on their size, but this may just reflect a change in the amount of evidence: J. A. Green, The Government of England under Henry I (Cambridge, 1986), p. 22. Most recorded councils were in the south of England, with a preference for London and Westminster. 15 For example, when a great conventio or concilium gathered in 1116 for the performing of homage to the king's son, the appearance is that the business had been decided beforehand; Florence of Worcester, ii. 69, also Gervase of Canterbury, Historical Works, ed. W. Stubbs, 2 vols, Rolls Series (London, 1867), i. 92. However, see AngloSaxon Chronicle, s.a. 1123 on the differing opinions concerning the election of an archbishop of Canterbury, and the influence of Roger of Salisbury. 16 RRAN, ii. no. 1125; the magnates, 'by the assent and will of the bishop of that city', encouraged the king's grant. Note also Eadmer, Historia Novorum, p. 147: 'those leading men (principes) on whose counsels the king relied.' 17 See F. M. Stenton, The First Century of English Feudalism (2nd edn, Oxford, 1961), P-9518 See, e.g. Hugh the Chanter, The History of the Church of York, ed. and tr. C. Johnson (rev. edn, Oxford, 1990), p. 92; Eadmer, Historia Novorum, p. 234. 19 Suger, Vie de Louis VI le Gros, ed. and tr. H. Waquet (2nd edn, Paris, 1964), p. 100. 13

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summoned to his counsels Robert of Meulan and Hugh of Chester, Richard of Riviers and Roger Bigod, and other active and acute men. Because he humbly deferred to wise men he deservedly governed many provinces and peoples. Rehoboam was the son of Solomon, whose rash advisers and resultant disasters the Book of Kings records.20 On occasion, however, circumstance severely limited the range of leading men available for consultation. Henry of Huntingdon recorded that in 1101 Henry, deserted by many of the Norman aristocracy, placed Ranulf Flambard in chains 'by counsel of the English people',21 while the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle simply says he acted 'by the advice [rtede] of those who were around him'.22 In times of war, the opinion of fighting men of lesser rank, the type of men referred to simply as milites, may have had an influence absent in other circumstances. Indeed, when the king was besieging Bridgnorth in 1102, the massed urging of the 'country knights (pagenses militesY persuaded Henry to ignore the advice of the leading men of the realm who were urging reconciliation with Robert of Belleme.23 Predominant in sessions of formal councils, in the giving of advice informally at the time of such councils, and in advising in other circumstances, was a quite small group of leading counsellors. Florence of Worcester recorded the deaths of Maurice, bishop of London, Richard, abbot of Ely, Robert, abbot of Bury St Edmunds, Miles Crispin, Robert fitzHamo, Roger Bigod, and Richard de Redvers, and calls them consiliatores regis.24 This is almost certainly not a technical term but rather a way of denoting those who had particular influence with the king. The Abingdon chronicle records that the monastery's abbot, Faritius, when pursuing a lawsuit, sometimes approached the king, sometimes the queen, and sometimes the 'counsellors of the realm (regni consultoresy ,25 Contemporaries also singled out various individuals as particularly influential. According to Simeon of Durham, when Robert Bloet, bishop of Lincoln, was struck by his fatal stroke, he was riding with the king, Orderic, v. 298; 3 Kings (I Kings): 12-14, esP- cn- 12. C. W. Hollister, Monarchy, Magnates and Institutions in the Anglo-Norman World (London, 1986), pp. 184-5, points out that three of these four had been what he calls curiales of William Rufus. 21 Henry, archdeacon of Huntingdon, Historia Anglorum, ed. and trans. D. E. Greenway (Oxford, 1996), p. 450. 22 Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, s.a. noo. Cf. Hugh the Chanter, p. 92, where the king in Normandy consulted not only the bishops and others who were with him but also those who were in England. 23 Orderic, vi. 26. See also below, p. 116. Note also the tendency of younger knights to be more enthusiastic than their elders in urging battle: M. J. Strickland, War and Chivalry (Cambridge, 1996), p. 107. 24 Florence of Worcester, Chroniconii. 57. 25 Abingdon, ii. 125; see below, p. 118, for the resultant charter. 20

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separated from others, and discussing matters of counsel (colloquerentur consilio).26 Men involved in administration - for example, the barons of the exchequer and those central to the royal household - had special importance. They included both laymen and clerks, such as Thurstan, later archbishop of York, and John, archdeacon of Sees, who later became bishop of Lisieux. Of him Orderic wrote that 'he was reckoned among the king's leading chaplains, and was often summoned to the king's counsels among his familiares'.27 Access to the king was vital to the giving of advice, the exertion of influence, and participation in royal thinking. Eadmer mentions men close to the king 'who were privy to his secrets'.28 Proximity to the king, though, need not bring uniformity of views. Orderic recorded Robert Curthose's visit to England to request that William of Warenne be readmitted to Henry's good will: 'Hearing this, the king became very angry and asked his attendants and confidants (asseclas et consecretaks) "What should be done concerning my enemies, who have dared to descend on me and invade my kingdom without my permission?" Everyone offered the king different advice.'29 Within the king's closest circle a single, dominant counsellor might emerge. Such predominant counsellors often feature in descriptions of kingship or other forms of leadership,30 and, as we shall see, their utility to the ruler was often matched by the hostility they aroused. Conspicuous at the start of the reign, as he had been before uoo, was Robert, count of Meulan. Henry of Huntingdon referred to him as 'in secular business the wisest man of all living between here and Jerusalem, and King Henry's counsellor (consiliarius}\ while the hostile Eadmer called him 'the person by whose counsel the king carried out all his business'.31 The other outstanding figure was Roger of Salisbury. William of Malmesbury deals with him after Count Robert, describing Roger as the man upon whose counsel Henry chiefly relied.32 A letter of Herbert, bishop of Norwich, to Roger himself also states that Queen Simeon of Durham, Opera omnia, ed. T. Arnold, 2 vols, Rolls Series (London, 1882-5), ii- 268; see also Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, s.a. 1123 (which has Roger of Salisbury as a third member of the party), and Henry of Huntingdon, pp. 586-8 (De contemptu mundi). 27 Hugh the Chanter, p. 56; Orderic, vi. 144. 28 Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 146. 29 Orderic, vi. 12-14; Chibnall comments in a footnote that 'Orderic appears to be groping for a new vocabulary to describe household or chancery officials and servants of a new kind'. 30 Cf. Benedict, the adviser of the earl of Chester, in Abingdon, ii. 71. 31 Henry of Huntingdon, Historia Anglorum p. 462; see also p. 598 (De contemptu mundi). Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 170; see also p. 191. Note also William of Malmesbury, De gestis regum Anglorum, ed. W. Stubbs, 2 vols, Rolls Series (London, 1887-9), ii-48332 William of Malmesbury, De gestis regum, ii. 483. 26

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Matilda 'takes advantage of your advice in everything'.33 Unfortunately the sources do not allow us to distinguish between the subjects on which Roger and Robert gave advice - if there was any such distinction - and we can only conjecture from other information about their activities. Other individuals singled out as counsellors were the king's relatives. There was no living queen mother to exert the kind of influence the Empress Matilda would have upon Henry II, but in the latter years of Henry Fs reign, Matilda was already making her opinions known.34 The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle records that in 1126 Robert Curthose was transferred to the custody of Henry's bastard son Robert, earl of Gloucester, and that 'this was all done by the advice [rced\ of his daughter'. Henry's queens too may have had influence. In particular, people sometimes approached queens as intercessors, to promote their cases or to persuade the king to make or confirm grants.35 There were also individual counsellors who were trained experts in one field or who had special spiritual authority. Henry of Huntingdon reports that Henry I's eventually fatal attack of food-poisoning resulted from his rejecting the consilium of a doctor who forbade him to eat his beloved dish of lampreys.36 As for spiritual advisers, we have already seen Serlo, bishop of Sees, in action at Easter 1105, and he pressed on with his moral crusade by persuading the king and his magnates to have their decadent long hair cut off.37 In the case of Anselm, his position as counsellor was associated with his position as archbishop of Canterbury. As with the bishop of Sees, the scope of his advice extended beyond purely spiritual affairs to the business of the realm: for example, the defence against invasion at the start of Henry's reign.38 The question of who gave advice is closely related to the type of advice given and to its circumstances. Counsel may have been particularly Epistolae Herberti de Losinga, Osberti de Clara, et Elmeri prioris Cantuariensis, ed. R. Anstruther (London, 1846), no. 26. 34 On the empress under Henry II, see Walter Map, De nugis curialium, ed. and trans. M. R. James, rev. C. N. L. Brooke and R. A. B. Mynors (Oxford, 1983), pp. 478, 484; on the mother as counsellor, see also, e.g. the stories of Percival from Chretien de Troyes onwards. Orderic, vi. 148 criticizes a woman for ignoring the counsel of her husband. See Gaimar, L'estoire des Engleis, Anglo-Norman Text Society, 14-16 (1960), lines 2685, for taking counsel of kin, 3604, for a daughter counselling. 35 See, e.g. above, p. 113; also below, p. 118, for the queen's involvement with land grants. 36 Henry of Huntingdon, Historia Anglomm, p. 490. The expert, such as Henry I's doctor Faritius, abbot of Abingdon, may well have been able to bring influential advice even outside his area of special expertise. 37 Orderic, vi. 64-6. 38 See, e.g. Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 127. 33

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important to Henry at the start of his reign.39 According to the Abingdon chronicler, at this time Henry was weak and faced many requests for gifts. By prudent counsel, he agreed to these requests, but later he was to abandon such generous behaviour.40 Henry's Coronation Charter concentrates on concessions, but it is notable that clause ten, which records not a grant but the retention of the forests in the king's hand, states that Henry was acting 'with the common consent of my barons'.41 The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle relates that Henry sent for Anselm 'on the advice of his council', the 'Hyde' chronicle that he married Matilda 'by the counsel of [Anselm] and his leading men (principumy ,42 In the first years of his reign Henry was faced with the constant threat of invasion and rebellion, and thereafter the taking of counsel is particularly prominent in descriptions of war and of battles. Orderic wrote that in noi 'Robert of Meulan and many other loyal and prudent barons followed their lord faithfully and supplied him with military support and counsel (viribus et consiliisY ,43 Before the decisive battle of Tinchebrai in 1106 both Henry and his brother and opponent Duke Robert took counsel as to possible developments.44 William of Malmesbury records a particularly interesting example of opinions being pressed on the king in 1119. Louis VI of France was devastating Normandy, but Henry, according to the chronicler, preferred his father's example of defeating the French folly by patience rather than force. However, a crowd of fighting men (uulgus militum), regarding his apparent inaction as dishonourable, urged that he allow Louis to be driven back. Henry first tried to appease the men, by expressing his desire to avoid shedding the blood of his loyal followers, but finally decided that his prudence was being misinterpreted as cowardice, turned to battle and won the victory of Bremule.45 On the circumstances, see e.g. Hollister, Monarchy., pp. 175-6. Henry's Coronation Charter stated that he was crowned 'by the mercy of God and the common counsel of the barons of the whole realm of England'; Wace, Roman de Ron, lines 10117-10134, gives a strong view of this baronial counselling; note also Liber monasterii de Hyda, ed. E. Edwards, Rolls Series (London, 1866), p. 304. 40 Abingdon, ii. 50; note the parallel to William of Malmesbury, De gestis regum, ii. 471, on Henry biding his time before avenging himself against those who insulted him early in his reign. 41 Liebermann, Gesetze, i. 522. 42 Liber monasterii de Hyda, p. 305; on this chronicle and its questionable link to Hyde Abbey, Winchester, see D. Bates, 'Normandy and England after 1066', EHR, 104 (1989), 851-80, at 877, and J. Gillingham, 'Henry of Huntingdon and the TwelfthCentury Revival of the English Nation', in Concepts of National Identity in the Middle Ages, ed. S. Forde, L. Johnson and A. V. Murray (Leeds, 1995), pp. 90-1. 43 Orderic, v. 310. Note also ibid., vi. 228: before burning Evreux in 1119 Henry obtained the agreement of its bishop, Audoin. 44 Ibid., vi. 86-8. 45 William of Malmesbury, De gestis regum, ii. 481; see also Liber monasterii de Hyda, 39

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Henry took counsel before many major decisions. In 1106 he wrote to Anselm that 'on Ascension Day I shall have all my barons assembled with me. According to their counsel, I shall then reply to you in suitable fashion'.46 When in 1119 Henry decided to make peace with the king of France, it was 'by the counsel of his great men (consilio optimatum suorumy.47 Increasingly, the succession dominated Henry's thoughts and actions.48 Major events for the royal family took place in the context of courts or councils, although on occasion Henry could act secretively, as was probably the case with the planning of Matilda's marriage to Geoffrey of Anjou.49 Henry also took counsel on ecclesiastical affairs; for example, the primacy dispute.50 Particularly prominent were consultations on ecclesiastical appointments.51 At the start of his reign, according to Orderic, 'he began to console the widowed churches with pastors, and on the advice of senior men (seniorum consultu) placed learned scholars in them'.52 The Battle Abbey chronicle recalls that in 1107 Henry gathered a 'universal council', and assigned shepherds to churches. On the advice of his men, he chose a monk of Caen, named Ralph, for Battle.53 The Abingdon chronicle hints further at the procedure. When Henry appointed Abbot Vincent in 1121, he did so 'by the counsel of his great men . . . in the presence of his bishops and barons . . . with all who were present praising this'. Three levels of participation seem to be distinguished here: the active counsel of the leading men, the important and desirable presence of bishops and barons, and the acclamation of all present.54 In contrast, p. 317, on Henry drawing up his battle lines at Bremule 'sapienti usus consilio'; also Simeon, ii. 267-8, on Henry taking advice from his men at Woodstock before responding to the threat posed by the marriage of William Clito to the daughter of the count of Anjou. Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 176; also e.g. p. 165, on Henry being counselled to speak with Anselm; Hugh the Chanter, p. 62, for Henry summoning the leading men to London in 1115 to treat with them 'concerning the peace, the state of the realm, and matters of business'. 47 John of Worcester, Chronicle, ed. J. R. H. Weaver (Oxford, 1908), p. 14. 48 See, e.g. William of Malmesbury, Historia novella, ed. and trans. K. R. Potter (Edinburgh, 1955), p. 3; Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 290, Simeon, ii. 259, on Henry's second marriage; John of Worcester, p. 27. 49 See below, p. 122. 50 Hugh the Chanter, pp. 30, 68 (a council); note also p. 80. 51 Note also, e.g. Simeon, ii. 268; Hugh the Chanter, pp. 182-4 (great council), 220 (informal). 52 Orderic, v. 296. 53 The Chronicle of Battle Abbey, ed. and trans. E. Searle (Oxford, 1980), p. 116; cf. p. 134, for Henry at an assembly appointing the Canterbury monk Warner as abbot of Battle, by the counsel of William, archbishop of Canterbury, and Seffrid, bishop of Chichester. 54 Abingdon, ii. 161-2. The last group may have been very large if, as is possible, Vincent was elected at the time of the king's second marriage. 46

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the king insisted on giving Peterborough Abbey to Henry d'Angely despite the opposition of the archbishops and bishops, who protested that the nominee should not have two abbacies.55 Henry must also have consulted concerning important grants to the lay aristocracy, but this is very rarely mentioned. Most noteworthy here is clause three of the Coronation Charter. The barons promised to consult the king concerning their plans to marry their daughters. The king likewise promised that he would only give heiresses in marriage 'by counsel of my barons'.56 The clause neatly illustrates the reciprocal obligations of lord and men, with consultation working in both directions. What of land grants? Mention of family participation in the king's grants is extremely rare, notably rarer than in the charters even of important laymen. Of course, Henry only had a legitimate son until 1120, but he is almost entirely absent from the king's grants.57 Mention of barons' consent was not a standard feature of English charters in writ or letter form,58 although occasional references occur in Henry's grants to English churches. Some concern major ecclesiastical events such as the founding of the see of Ely, which is also dated to the council held at Nottingham Castle on 17 October UO9.59 Some concern specific grants,60 while others refer to general confirmations or restorations to churches made 'by the counsel of my barons' or 'by the assent and counsel of my bishops and barons'.61 Further instances may refer to some form of court hearing, as when Henry confirmed Fawler to Abingdon 'by the counsel and assent of the queen . . . and of my barons, both prelates and laymen (baronumque meorum, tarn presulum quam laicorumy.62 Counsel is also mentioned in charters for Norman churches, for example, Henry's confirmation to the abbey of Saint-Vigor at Cerisy.63 Orderic gives a The Chronicle of Hugh Candidus, a Monk of Peterborough., ed. W. T. Mellows (Oxford, 1949), p. 100. 56 Liebermann, Gesetze, i. 521. 57 J. G. H. Hudson, Land, Law and Lordship in Anglo-Norman England (Oxford, 1994)? P- l%4> adding RRAN, ii, no. 1091 to those footnoted. The queen is occasionally recorded as consenting to a grant: RRAN., ii, nos 683, 1874; note also nos 634, 1091. 58 For examples, see Hudson, Land, Law and Lordship, p. 228. 59 RRAN, ii, no. 919; see also no. 918. Note also no. 1715, a restoration of the church of Malmesbury to the church of Salisbury, dated at Northampton 'in concilio'. 60 E.g. RRAN, ii, nos 677, 1475 (on which see also John of Worcester, p. 23). 61 Respectively RRAN, ii, nos 1092 (a writ), 928 (a charter, of unusual and perhaps suspicious form). See also nos 544, 1325. 62 Ibid., ii, no. 683, which follows the passage of the Abingdon Chronicle cited above, p. 113. 63 Ibid., ii, no. 1233. Note also no. 809, a confirmation to St Faith at Longueville, 'presente magno procerum conventu'; no. 1183 (Henry makes a concord between the abbot of Caen and the founder of Savigny, on the advice of the archbishops of Canterbury and Rouen, and various other bishops, abbots, and men of religion); nos 1687, 1764. 55

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rather fuller indication of the process which might be involved. In 1113 Henry I was at Saint-Evroul, and was admitted to the monks' fraternity. Then, on the counsel of Robert count of Meulan, the king commanded that a charter be made, and everything which the abbey of Saint-Evroul possessed on that day be listed in it. This was done. Then Arnold the prior and Gilbert of Les Essarts took the charter to the king at Rouen. He willingly confirmed it, making a cross, and handed it to his magnates who were present to be similarly ratified with the sign of the cross . . . This charter was made by the counsel of wise men as a protection against greedy heirs, who every year seized back the alms given by their relatives . . .64

The charter thus distinguishes between the unspecified group of wise men who saw the charter's utility, the specific influence of Robert, count of Meulan, and the ratification as opposed to counsel of those recorded as signatories. What of taxation and legislation, areas traditionally of great concern to those studying counsel and consent? Information on the former is very sparse, perhaps because the standard form of taxation was the customary annual geld. Exceptional taxation - for example, that raised for the marriage of the king's daughter Matilda to the emperor - may have required more consideration.65 Information on legislation is rather more extensive.66 Orderic records that in mid-October 1106 Henry summoned to Lisieux all the great men of Normandy, and held a council most beneficial to the church of God. He there decreed by royal authority that peace should be firmly established throughout Normandy, that - with all robbery and plundering wholly suppressed - all churches should hold their possessions as they had held them on the day his father died, and likewise all other lawful heirs. He took into his own property all his father's demesnes, and by the judgment of wise men decreed void all the gifts his brother had made to ungrateful men through lack of judgment or had unwillingly permitted through weakness.67

Here we have a council as the setting for decrees, without any specific mention of who - if anyone - counselled the king. The later Tres ancien coutumier also preserved a writ of Henry announcing legislation. It is dated to 1135 at Rouen, concerns those 'who kill men in the truces and in the peace of the church and break the truces', and says that the Orderic, vi. 174; the charter is RRAN, ii, no. 1019. RRAN, ii, no. 959, mentioning 'that aid which my barons gave [dederunt] to me', may refer to this tax, although the word 'give' could mean paying rather than granting. The mid-twelfth-century Leges Edwardi Confessoris, 11.2 (Liebermann, Gesteze, i. 636), spoke of William II seeking and the barons granting an aid. 66 See above, p. in n. 7, on William I's decree concerning courts. Note also Leges Edwardi Confessoris, Prol., 34 (Liebermann, Gesetze, i. 627, 661-3); note also E. Cf. retr., 39.1 (Liebermann, Gesetze, i. 670). 67 Orderic, vi. 92-4. 64

65

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decree was made in the presence of various named bishops and 'by common counsel and assent of all my barons named below'.68 In England, counsel is mentioned in connection with various reforms which could be called legislative. For example, Eadmer states that Henry's actions to end the oppressions brought by those accompanying the court were determined 'through the counsel of Anselm and the great men of the realm'.69 On the other hand, there is no mention of counsel or consent with reference to Henry's decrees concerning the coinage, the treatment of thieves and robbers, or the holding of shire and hundred courts.70 In disputes and lawsuits the king took counsel on a wide range of matters.71 Particularly significant is the link between counsel and the judgment as to the form of proof to be employed. The Battle Abbey chronicle records the following instance. At Henry's Easter court at Winchester, it was disputed whether Battle was to be subject to the abbey of Marmoutier. The king was inclined to Marmoutier's side, 'but decided to settle nothing without counsel'. Among the leading men present was Geoffrey, custodian of Battle between 1102 and 1107, who, the chronicler noted, 'was not excluded from the secrets of the royal hall'. Geoffrey sought to change the king's mind personally and through supporters. When, in the king's presence, the abbot of Marmoutier claimed that William I had subjected Battle to Marmoutier, the king's counsellors demanded written confirmation (confirmationis munimentd). The abbot replied that such a great man's gift made orally should suffice without an eye-witness, and that no one had hitherto sought a written confirmation, as they did not consider it necessary. However, his argument was rebutted, on the grounds that the gift of so great a place must be confirmed by charters, or at least by oral testimony.72 68 RRAN, ii, no. 1908; Coutumiers de Normandie, i, Le tres ancien coutumier de Normandie, ed. E.-J. Tardif, Societe de 1'Histoire de Normandie (1881), c. 71, pp. 65-8. 69 Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 192. Note also Richard fitzNigel, Dialogus de scaccario, ed. and trans. C. Johnson, rev. F. E. L. Carter and D. E. Greenway (Oxford, !983)5 PP- 41-33 on Henry I's reforms concerning county farms and the process of assaying silver. Henry of Huntingdon, Historia Anglorum, pp. 482-4, attributes to the king a council in 1129 which treated the question of priests' wives; cf. Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, s.a. 1129 which attributes the summoning of the council to the archbishop of Canterbury, 'by the advice [r i-io. 45 List of Foreign Accounts, Public Record Office Lists and Indexes, 11 (London, 1900), p. 51; J. F. Lydon, 'The Enrolled Account of Alexander Bicknor, Treasurer of Ireland, 1308-14', Analecta Hibernica, 30 (1982), 9-10. 41

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mid-fourteenth century.46 The subordinate financial administrations also retained a good deal of autonomy over expenditure, much of which was done at the local level and was never properly recorded in the accounts transmitted to Westminster.47 Nevertheless, if the primary purpose of this process of accounting was, as has been suggested here, to regulate the expenditure of resources flowing from the centre to the peripheries, then the evidence strongly suggests that the level of co-ordination appropriate to the functioning of a 'tax empire' was indeed achieved in the fiscal apparatus of the Plantagenet dominions between the 12905 and the 13505. It was asserted at an earlier stage in this essay that this 'tax empire' of the three Edwards was not only different from the 'tribute empire' of the Angevins but also from the system observable in the period after c. 1360. It therefore remains briefly to outline the arguments for identifying a change in the character of the imperial fiscal system during the later stages of the Hundred Years War. In terms of the constitution of the empire, there was already a significant shift of emphasis evident in the middle years of Edward Ill's reign, as a result of that king's desire to create powerful appanages for his sons. Although the principle was maintained that the chief dependencies within the empire were inalienable from the crown, they tended to take on a greater independence than had been allowed them in the two previous generations.48 This in turn had important fiscal consequences: whereas it was the English state that had effectively taxed the palatinate of Chester and the principality of Wales under Edward I and II, for example, it was now to the Black Prince, as earl of Chester and prince of Wales, that the inhabitants of these areas paid their extraordinary subsidies.49 The same thing 46

The handing over of the revenues of Aquitaine to the Italian financiers provides one explanation for this: Kaeuper, Bankers, p. 116. The extent to which it was also a consequence of the destruction of the Gascon archive in 1294 remains uncertain, but the financial documentation transcribed and calendared during the attempts in 1318 and 1322 to reconstruct that archive from the English royal records certainly suggests that the accounting process was erratic: Gascon Register A (Series of 1318-1319), ed. G. P. Cuttino and J.-P. Trabut-Cussac (3 vols, London, 1975-6), i. xi-xvii, 83-91; The Gascon Calendar 0/1322, ed. G. P. Cuttino, Camden 3rd series, 70 (1949), pp. 134-66, passim. Only two accounts of constables of Bordeaux were transcribed onto the foreign accounts section of the pipe rolls before 1348: List of Foreign Accounts, p. 42. The matter demands further research. 47 The failure of the subordinate financial regimes to adopt the tally of assignment meant that they, unlike the Westminster exchequer, were unable to maintain a record of expenditure at source: Lydon, 'Edward II and the Revenues of Ireland', p. 47. 48 W. M. Ormrod, 'Edward III and his Family', Journal of British Studies, 26 (1987), 398-422. 49 Booth, Financial Administration, pp. 62-70; R. R. Davies, Conquest, Coexistence and Change: Wales, 1063-1415 (Oxford, 1987), pp. 398-403; T. Thornton, 'Taxing the

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happened in Aquitaine after 1362, when Edward III raised the duchy to the status of a principality and devolved it again upon his eldest son, who taxed it on his own authority to pay for his subsequent campaigns in Spain.50 And since the obligation upon the financial administrations of Wales and Aquitaine to account to the Westminster exchequer was dropped when Edward of Woodstock assumed the title of prince in these territories,51 the system of central management established under Edward I was also thereby abandoned, making it bureaucratically much more difficult to shift resources either between colonies or from the centre to the periphery. The result was that, by the time the crown and the wider dominions were reunited in the hands of Richard II in the late fourteenth century, both the colonies and the English state had in effect abandoned earlier attempts to establish a fully integrated fiscal regime. Some of this was simply a result of adverse circumstances: the Plantagenet regimes in both Ireland and Gascony were in retreat during the later fourteenth century, and this, coupled with the effects of plague and war on the local economies, meant that it was no longer possible to generate surpluses that might be transferred to other parts of the empire.52 It was also a consequence of the shifting priorities of the crown and the English political community: whereas Edward Ill's regime was prepared to invest huge sums in Aquitaine during the 13505 and in Ireland during the 13605 and 13705, that of Richard II was much more inclined to spend English taxes on the maintenance of Calais and the ring of English-held defences around the northern and western coasts of France.53 But there were also significant indications, made explicit under Richard's successors, of a change in attitudes towards the constitution of the empire. King's Dominions: The Subject Territories of the English Crown in the Late Middle Ages', in Crises, Revolutions, ed. Ormrod, Bonney and Bonney, pp. 103-17. Y. Renouard, 'Les institutions du duche d'Aquitaine', in Histoire des institutions francaises au moyen age, ed. F. Lot and R. Fawtier (3 vols, Paris, 1957-62), i. 179—81. 51 List of Foreign Accounts, pp. 42, 145; F. Beriac, 'Une principaute sans chambre des comptes ni echiquier: 1'Aquitaine (1362-1370)', in La France des principautes: les chambres des comptes, XlVe et XVe siecles, ed. P. Contamine and O. Matteoni (Paris, 1996), pp. 105-22. 52 P. Connolly, 'The Proceedings against John de Burnham, Treasurer of Ireland, 1343-49', in Colony and Frontier in Medieval Ireland: Essays Presented to J. F. Lydon, ed. T. B. Parry, R. Frame and K. Simms (London, 1995), pp. 57-74; M. K. James, 'The Fluctuations of the Anglo-Gascon Wine Trade in the Fourteenth Century', Economic History Review, 2nd series, 4 (1951), 170-96. 53 Fowler, 'Les finances', pp. 60-1, 83; P. Connolly, 'The Financing of English Expeditions to Ireland, 1361-1376', in England and Ireland in the Later Middle Ages: Essays in Honour of J. Otway-Ruthven, ed. J. Lydon (Blackrock, 1981), pp. 104-21; J. Sherborne, War, Politics and Culture in Fourteenth-Century England (London, 1994), pp. 55-7O; J. R. Wright, 'The Accounts of John de Stratton and John Gedeney, Constables of Bordeaux 1381-90', Mediaeval Studies, 42 (1980), 250 and n. 50. 50

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Alongside the development of more sophisticated internal tax systems in Plantagenet-controlled Ireland and Normandy we have to set the increasing tendency of the English political community to question its duty to subsidize the defence of the crown's wider dominions.54 Parliament's refusal after the conquest of Normandy and the treaty of Troyes of 1420 to accept the notion that English taxes should be used to support the new Lancastrian regime in France marked a striking, if in the end temporary, blow to the principles of obligation earlier established by the three Edwards.55 And to some degree at least this was the product of the crown's own strategy: in contrast to the position in the early fourteenth century, the fiscal principle underpinning Henry V's empire was that, with the notable exception of Calais, all the dominions of the crown should be self-financing, not merely in peacetime but even - at least ideally - in war.56 Finally, and perhaps most significantly, there was an important change during the later fourteenth and fifteenth centuries in the administrative method by which English financial resources were distributed across the empire. The development of the so-called indenture system in the period after c. 1340 meant that the functions previously fulfilled by the wardrobe and by special treasurers of war were increasingly undertaken by military commanders contracted by the crown to provide an agreed military force for a prearranged price. Under these arrangements, it was necessary only for the commander to acknowledge receipt of his payments from the exchequer; he was not always required to make a detailed account for the manner in which his lump sum was spent. When it worked properly, this streamlined system was economical and efficient; consequently, it was extended in the second half of the fourteenth century to include not merely individual military expeditions but also the permanent lieutenancies established in the remaining dependencies of the empire.57 However, when a viceregent was Otway-Ruthven, History, pp. 166-8; C. T. Allmand, Lancastrian Normandy, 1415-1450 (Oxford, 1983), pp. 171-86; A. Tuck, 'Richard II and the Hundred Years War', in Politics and Crisis in Fourteenth-Century England, ed. J. Taylor and W. Childs (Gloucester, 1990), pp. 123-6. 55 G. L. Harriss, 'The Management of Parliament', in Henry V: The Practice of Kingship, ed. G. L. Harriss (Oxford, 1985), pp. 149-51. 56 G. L. Harriss, 'Financial Policy', in Henry V, ed. Harriss, pp. 174-6; Allmand, Lancastrian Normandy, pp. 241-76; A. Curry, 'L'administration fmanciere de la Normandie anglaise: continuite ou changement?', in La France des principautes, ed. Contamine and Matteoni, pp. 84-103; E. Matthew, 'The Financing of the Lordship of Ireland under Henry V and Henry VI', in Property and Politics: Essays in Later Medieval English History, ed. T. Pollard (Gloucester, 1984), pp. 97-115; D. Grummitt, 'The Financial Administration of Calais during the Reign of Henry IV, 1399-1413', EHR, 113 (1998), 277-9957 A. E. Prince, 'The Indenture System under Edward III', in Historical Essays in Honour of James Tail, ed. J. G. Edwards, V. H. Galbraith and E. F. Jacob (Manchester, 54

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required to make up some or all of his stipend from the revenues of the dependency over which he presided - as happened, for example, in the case of Ireland from the late 13508 - then he tended to take control of the financial administration of the relevant colony, and in the process strained or broke the Edwardian practice of requiring the subordinate treasury to account to the English exchequer: after the appointment of the earl of March as lieutenant of Ireland in 1379, the Westminster administration had the greatest of difficulties in requiring the Irish treasurers to make their accounts, and although there was some revival of centralized fiscal authority in the fifteenth century, at least some of the details of earlier accounting practice were permanently lost.58 Conversely, it is ironic that the constables of Bordeaux should so successfully have revived the tradition of accounting to the English exchequer when Edward III resumed control of Aquitaine from the Black Prince in 1372: after Edward's death, any English subsidies for the defence of Gascony were transmitted via the king's lieutenants and other commanders, and the long series of constables' accounts stretching to the final English withdrawal in the 14505 represented merely the remaining ordinary revenues of the duchy.59 In this case, accounting traditions had clearly outlived their original purpose and become a matter of mere bureaucratic form that made little or no dynamic contribution to the fiscal management of the empire. To the extent, then, that the arguments set out above for the existence of a 'tax empire' in the period 1259-1360 depend on the identification of a relatively integrated system of extraction, redistribution and financial control, it is evident that the forms of imperial administration that developed between the 13405 and the 14205 marked something of a retreat from that unified whole and suggest a fiscal system that was significantly more fragmented and particularist than its immediate predecessor: deploying the typology and terminology used here, we could perhaps characterize the Plantagenet dominions in the period 1360-1453 as a series of domain and tax states rather than as a !933)j PP- 283-97; A. E. Prince, 'The Payment of Army Wages in Edward Ill's Reign', Speculum, 19 (1944), 137-60; Sherborne, War, Politics, pp. 1-28. For the private and semi-private administration of funds supplied to commanders under indentures of war, see K. B. McFarlane, The Nobility of Later Medieval England (Oxford, 1973), pp. 23-7. 58

D. Johnston, 'Chief Governors and Treasurers of Ireland in the Reign of Richard IF, in Colony and Frontier, ed. Barry, Frame and Simms, pp. 97-115; List of Foreign Accounts, p. 51. The tradition of sending detailed transcripts of the Irish receipts and issue rolls for audit at the English exchequer, maintained until 1384, was not revived in the fifteenth century: H. G. Richardson and G. O. Sayles, 'Irish Revenue, 1278-1384', Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy, 62, section C (1961-3), 87-100. 59 Compare the regularity of enrolment of the constables' accounts with the irregularity of enrolment of the accounts of lieutenants: List of Foreign Accounts, pp. 42-3; M. G. A. Vale, English Gascony, 1399-1453 (Oxford, 1970), pp. 230-41.

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single 'tax empire'.60 For a number of reasons - constitutional, political, logistical, economic and bureaucratic - the apparently inexorable tendency towards centralization that was such a feature of fiscal administration in the imperial system of Edward I and Edward II had ultimately failed to create its own momentum and begun to falter even as the Plantagenet empire reached its apparent apogee in the treaty of Bretigny. In fine, the fiscal evidence appears to be consistent with, and serves to reinforce, the body of recent scholarship that views Edward I's rampantly expansionist and ruthlessly centralist stance as a highly significant but comparatively brief and ultimately unsustainable interlude in the longer history of English medieval state- and empirebuilding.61 60 Compare the comments of Frame, Ireland and Britain, pp. 289-90, on fiscal fragmentation within the colonies. 61 R. R. Davies, 'In Praise of British History', in The British Isles, 1100-1500: Comparisons, Contrasts and Connections, ed. R. R. Davies (Edinburgh, 1988), pp. 9-26; R. Frame, 'Overlordship and Reaction, c. 1200 - c. 1450', in Uniting the Kingdom?, ed. Grant and Stringer, pp. 65-84.

12 Politics, Sanctity and the Breton State: The Case of the Blessed Charles de Blois, Duke of Brittany (d. 1364) MICHAEL JONES

In his remarkable thesis on late medieval sanctity, Andre Vauchez comments on the increasing politicization of the canonizations he studied, while the 'political' saint in later medieval England has recently attracted attention.1 The Avignonese popes principally considered only candidates closely associated with the royal houses of France and Anjou for elevation to sanctity. This tendency, noted by contemporaries, has appeared all the more blatant to modern commentators because the number of promotions in the fourteenth century fell (from forty-nine processes and twenty-four canonizations between 1198 and 1304, to twenty-two processes and only eleven canonizations from 1305 to 1431).2 The English and Aragonese, who were equally aware of the powerful reinforcement that a saint in the family could supply to dynastic ambition, frequently found that even their more appropriate candidates were summarily rejected. They can be forgiven for questioning papal impartiality and for a growing reluctance to embark on what experience proved a long and hazardous business with little guarantee of anything but great expense. Few cases better display the close connection between politics and sanctification than that of Charles de Blois, duke of Brittany from 1341 until his death at the battle of Auray on 29 September 1364, fighting a rival for the ducal throne. Since the Breton Civil War and its immediate aftermath is now also widely recognized as a critical period when not only many institutions of the 1 Andre Vauchez, La saintete en Occident aux derniers siecles du moyen age d'apres les proces de canonisation et les documents hagiographiques (Rome, 1981), pp. 90-5, translated as Sainthood in the Later Middle Ages, trans. Jean Birrell (Cambridge, 1997), pp. 77-80 (both versions will be cited, in the form, Vauchez, p. 90/77); Simon Walker, 'Political Saints in Later Medieval England', in The McFarlane Legacy: Studies in Late Medieval Politics and Society, ed. R. H. Britnell and A. J. Pollard (Stroud, 1995), pp. 77-106. 2 Vauchez, p. 71/61.

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late medieval Breton state but also its ideology were forged, a review of efforts to obtain or thwart Blois's promotion to sainthood may throw light on a multi-layered story, though one where much remains unknown and unknowable. A nephew of Philip VI of France, so related to both St Louis and St Louis of Toulouse, to whom he showed a strong devotion, and champion of the Breton priest Yves Helori, canonized by Clement VI in 1347, Blois had claims to sanctity which were principally advanced by his son-in-law Louis, duke of Anjou, younger brother of Charles V, who also interceded strongly for him with the papacy. As Vauchez comments, this was 'le meilleur exemple d'un culte a la fois politique et dynastique' of the late fourteenth century, though popular enthusiasm was also a major factor in forwarding Blois's cause.3 Naturally John IV of Brittany (1364-99), victor at Auray, did his best to prevent formal proceedings reaching a successful conclusion, acting vigorously to suppress the burgeoning cult of Blois: one constant at least in what follows.4 Some details may be helpful on why the cult developed, how the case for sanctification was presented and, as a curious epilogue, what eventually led Pope Leo XIII in 1904 to beatify Charles and complete what Urban V had started over five hundred years earlier. In presenting the evidence I make few claims to originality: apart from Vauchez's seminal work, most documents on the Processus Apostolici that began officially at Angers in September 1371 were published in 1921 by Dom Antoine de Serent OFM, along with a detailed account of Charles's life by Dom Fra^ois Plaine OSB.5 B-A. Pocquet du Haut-Jusse shortly afterwards provided a solid narrative, based on the Vatican Archives, which more recent work has scarcely improved, except for Vauchez's discovery of documents relating to the examination of the Angers proceedings at the curia in 1372, an essential stage that rarely leaves a trace in the records.6 3

Ibid., pp. 269-71/229-31, 420-6/363-8. Michael Jones, Ducal Brittany, 1364-1399 (Oxford, 1970); cf. C. Prigent, Pouvoir ducal, religion et production artistique en Basse-Bretagne, 1550-1575 (Paris, 1992), pp. 119-32 for 'L'usurpateur et le saint', based heavily on Vauchez. J. Kerherve, L'etat breton aux XlVe et XVe siecks: les dues, I'argent et les hommes (2 vols, Paris, 1987) is fundamental for administrative developments. 5 Monuments du proces de canonisation du bienheureux Charles de Blois, due de Bretagne, 1320-1364, ed. F. Plaine and A. de Serent (Saint-Brieuc/Paris, 1921). Some of Plaine's notes and correspondence have recently come to light in Landevennec, Abbaye StGuenole, Fonds Lebreton. 6 B-A. Pocquet du Haut-Jusse, Les papes et les dues de Bretagne (2 vols, Paris/Rome, 1928), i. 357ff; A. Vauchez, 'Canonisation et politique au XTVe siecle: documents inedits des Archives du Vatican relatifs au proces de canonisation de Charles de Blois, due de Bretagne (+1364)', Miscellanea in onore di Monsignor Martino Giusti (Vatican City, 1978), ii. 381-4044

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In only one respect am I perhaps better placed to comment on these events: I have recently edited the acta of Charles de Blois and his wife, Jeanne de Penthievre, and there is now a more systematic corpus of the documents issued by them as rulers of Brittany than earlier scholars had at their disposal.7 This can be used to control the hagiographical material of the canonization process, adding perspective or precision, especially with regard to understanding the duke's personality, his movements, his role in government, the names of his councillors and so on. His generosity, a matter on which many witnesses in 1371 gave eloquent testimony, for instance, can be measured in part from surviving grants. Likewise in tracing the administrative developments of his reign, especially the beginnings of general taxation and the growth of other governmental institutions and traditions that would be developed or transformed by John IV and his successors, the Recueil provides a firmer base than has been available hitherto. As a result we can reconstruct the life of Blois and assess his rule through a variety of sources other than those that are purely laudatory, trace the origins of his cult, witness the reaction of close contemporaries who chose to politicize it, see how evidence was collected for presentation to the pope and follow the case in the curia itself. If uncertainties remain, most notably with regard to the reasons why Gregory XI did not finally canonize him, Charles's case provides an abundance of material relating to canonization procedures that is seldom equalled in the late Middle Ages; for this reason alone it deserves to be more widely appreciated. A brief outline of the duke's life will explain why his sanctification was proposed. Probably born in 1321, Charles was the second son of Guy, count of Blois, and Margaret de Valois, sister of the future Philip VI of France. A career in the church may have been initially considered: from earliest youth he displayed a piety and scrupulosity, later verging on bigotry, in performing spiritual exercises that were to be among his main qualifications for sainthood. By the age of six, he had already learnt many common prayers, and his elder brother, Louis, who did not share his obsessive interest in pious learning, once remarked, 'You should have been a hermit'.8 But the dynastic needs of the Houses of Blois and Valois ensured that Charles eventually enjoyed a secular career. Recueil des actes de Charles de Blois et Jeanne de Penthievre, due et duchesse de Bretagne (1341-1364), ed. Michael Jones (Rennes, 1996). 8 Monuments, pp. 11-14, f°r testimony on Blois's upbringing, including, 'Carole, vos eritis heremita'; J. Croy, 'Date de la naissance de Charles de Blois', Memoires de la societe historique du Loir-et-Cher, 15 (1901), 266-81; Vauchez, pp. 420-6/363-8 for his character and piety. J-C. Cassard, Charles de Blois 1319/1364, due de Bretagne et bienheureux (Brest, 1994), is a brief modern account, but Plaine's immense life in Monuments, pp. 457-753, remains irreplaceable. 7

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The story of how Charles became a duke starts in 1334, when John III of Brittany (1312-41), lacking a direct heir, despite three marriages, approached Philip VI over his succession. Initially John offered to deliver Brittany to the crown but the Breton nobility opposed his plan, displaying a reluctance for closer union with Valois France that they were to show on several subsequent occasions: essential ideological support for later dukes in developing the late medieval Breton state.9 Thereafter John favoured the claims to succeed him of his niece, Jeanne, daughter of his younger brother, Guy, count of Penthievre (d. 1331). In the next few years numerous suitors were attracted by the presumptive heiress, among them Edward Ill's brother, John of Eltham (d. 1336) and the future Charles II of Navarre (b. 1332). In the end the prize was carried off by the count of Blois, thanks to royal mediation. The marriage contract was drawn up on 4 June 1337 and Charles joined his bride in Brittany shortly afterwards, in expectation of succeeding John III.10 Their plans were thrown into disarray when, on John Ill's death (30 April 1341), John de Montfort, his half-brother, put forward his own claims to the ducal throne. The civil war which followed is well known.11 In the summer of 1341, Montfort and Blois, on behalf of his wife, were invited to submit their respective claims to the parlement of Paris. Montfort's lawyers argued that he was the nearest male heir, while his opponents argued that Jeanne, legally representing her late father, was closer to John III than Montfort, an argument accepted by Philip VI in the arret de Conflans of 7 September 1341. This authorized Blois to proffer homage on his wife's behalf and assume the title of duke.12 Anticipating this unfavourable decision, Montfort left Paris before the arret was published. Already in July 1341 contact had been made with Edward III, and by late September English troops were detailed to support Montfort's bid for the duchy. On the French side, too, preparations for armed intervention quickly took shape. As the autumn progressed Franco-Breton troops achieved a major success when Nantes fell and John de Montfort himself was captured. But the Montfort cause was taken up courageously by his wife, Jeanne de Flandres, who appealed to Edward III for further assistance. Three A. de la Borderie, Histoire de Bretagne (6 vols, Paris and Rennes, 1896-1914), iii. 400-8. 10 A. du Chesne, Histoire de la maison de Chastillon-sur-Marne (Paris, 1621), preuves, pp. 118-20 (now Archives Nationales, Paris, K 42 nos. 37 and 372). 11 See Michael Jones, The Creation of Brittany (London, 1988), pp. 197-218, and idem, 'Nantes au debut de la guerre civile en Bretagne', in Vittes, 'bonnes villes', cites et capitales: melanges qfferts a Bernard Chevalier, ed. Monique Bourin (Tours, 1988), pp. 105-20. 12 Dom H. Morice, Memoires pour servir de preuves a I'histoire ecclesiastique et civile de Bretagne (3 vols, Paris, 1742-6), i. 1421-4. 9

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campaigns in 1342-3 established an Anglo-Breton presence around the coastline from Morlaix to the mouth of the Loire, while Blois and his supporters held most of central Brittany and its two leading cities, Rennes and Nantes. Over the next twenty years, the respective positions of the rival forces remained fairly constant. There were several battles, of which La Roche Derrien in June 1347, when Blois was captured, and Auray (1364) when he was killed, are the most significant. There were also several long sieges (most notably Rennes, 1356-7) but the most characteristic action was small-scale guerrilla warfare, normally waged by individual captains of rival garrisons who acknowledged only the loosest allegiance to either Montfort or Blois. The effects on the local population and countryside were devastating; they were compounded by the Black Death. Although interrupted by ill-kept truces and hampered by the absence of Blois, a prisoner in England from 1347 to 1356, the Penthievre party, implacably led by Jeanne de Penthievre, kept its cause alive by diplomatic and military means. It is against this sombre background that the rule of Charles de Blois between 1341 and 1364 has to be set. The physical suffering of his subjects was a constant concern to him, according to many witnesses in 1371. They testified to the practical ways in which he alleviated misery by individual acts of charity or through remitting general taxation or other burdensome obligations. The acta lend some support to this picture of an anguished duke, whose public and personal misfortunes add further poignancy to the story - military reverses suffered, wounds inflicted, privations and bereavements endured, all with stoic patience and exemplary faith. Informed of the deaths of two of his own children, for instance, or of a battle or town lost, his immediate response was 'Benedictus sit Deus in omnibus operibus suis'.13 At the time, this passive acceptance of misfortune often drove his advisers to despair, though by 1371 they had changed their rune, acknowledging it as an evident mark of sanctity. They also marvelled at the duke's personal austerities. A strict, time-consuming regimen of prayer, readings and religious exercises, including the daily hearing of mass, frequently on more than one occasion, and regular confession so that 'he never slept in a state of mortal sin', was reinforced by acts of self-denial that reveal great physical as well as mental stamina.14 This theme cannot be pursued here, but two extreme examples may be cited: a barefoot pilgrimage through the snow to the shrine of St Yves at Guingamp, and the surprise of many in his household when they discovered after Charles's death that he had worn a lice-infected 13 14

Monuments, pp. 39, 49, 57, 63, etc. Cf. Vauchez, pp. 421-2/364-5.

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hair-shirt under his armour at Auray.15 Other self-imposed penitential devices he is recorded as using include cords bound tightly round his chest so that the knots caused infected wounds, flagellation to draw blood while reciting psalms, and the lesser irritations of putting pebbles or sand in his shoes.16 There is no doubt that he was a difficult paragon to live with, though Charles did not insist on his wife sharing all his privations: while he preferred sleeping on a thin, hard straw palliasse, Jeanne's side of the marital bed had a feather mattress.17 In so far as it is possible to discern what they thought of each other, there are occasional hints throughout their marriage of genuine affection and companionship, though Jeanne did not depose in 1371, so that much of their domestic life together is irrecoverable. Before their nine years enforced separation, when the duke was a prisoner, the couple had at least six children between 1337 and 1347, though Charles is reported as saying that had it not been for his wedding vows he would not have known his wife carnally.18 There is no serious evidence of extramarital sexual activity and many witnesses in 1371 took the duke's chaste behaviour as another sign of sanctity; though Jeanne's remarriage was considered after 1364, she remained a widow for twenty years and possessed at her death relics of Charles which suggest enduring respect.19 Outside the immediate circle of courtiers, some of whom considered the duke far too favourably inclined towards clerics, his reputation for charitable deeds was already widespread in his lifetime. By sending his own doctors to assist women in childbirth, founding hospitals and personally visiting the sick, Charles displayed charity beyond the accepted obligations of his office. Boys were sent to school at ducal expense; widows and orphans maintained, justice administered expeditiously, red-tape swiftly cut as he ordered clerks to write out privileges for petitioners on the spot, even when they had waylaid him in the countryside where he sometimes needed interpreters to translate their requests from Breton into French so that he could take immediate action.20 It was this reputation among ordinary people for justice and charity that first drew pilgrims to the duke's tomb at Guingamp following his death and set in train the events that led to his proposed sanctification. 15 Monuments, pp. 30, 66, 76 (five hair-shirts bought at one time in Paris), 106 (removal of shirt before sleeping with Jeanne). 16 Vauchez, p. 422/365. 17 Monuments, pp. 34, 106. 18 Ibid., pp. 725-6 lists five children: Marguerite (d. by 1364), Marie (d. 1416), Jean (d. 1404), Guy (d. 1385) and Henri (d. after 1384); a son, Charles, also died young (ibid., p. 39). 19 Recueil, pp. 39 n. 88 and 41 n. 99 (relics); no. 308 n. i (remarriage). 20 Monuments, pp. 88-9.

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The first officially recorded miracles attributed to his merits did not occur until August 1367, almost three years after Charles's death.21 But by then both a popular cult of 'St Charles' and its appropriation by various parties with differing interests in its promotion had already occurred. While within a few weeks of his death former supporters began to pay their respects in the Franciscan convent at Guingamp where he was buried, the first signs of a general cult date from around Easter 1366. It was then that children from Blois and 'France' (probably the royal demesne), began to arrive at the tomb in large numbers, claiming that 'God had revealed the sanctity of the late duke'. This galvanized the local populace who had until that moment shown no particular veneration for Blois.22 It is hard to believe that the burgeoning cult was entirely spontaneous. By the time Evan Begaignon, bishop of Treguier (and a cardinal from 1371) authorized indulgences of forty days for visitors to the tomb in 1367, the lead in promoting it had already been seized by the Franciscan order, for whom Charles had always shown a deep respect. Evidence from Angers, Le Mans, Blois, Perigueux and elsewhere of early representations of him in pictorial or sculpted form is mainly associated with their convents.23 It seems likely that they had also organized the pilgrims (especially the bands of children) from outside Brittany who flocked to Guingamp, marking their routes by placing stones on rapidly growing Montjoies.24 At the tomb ex votos had accumulated in such quantities by Easter 1367 that at least one image-maker was gaining a decent living from selling model limbs and other objects in wax, wood and metal. These took a remarkable variety of forms as Brother Derrian le Petit later testified: 'naves, ymagines, pedes cum tibias, manus, brachia, capita, castra, domus, animalia, aves, ciphi, forme seu figure peccuniarum, doliorum vini, et figure oculorum, mammillarum, genitalium cere, ferracula pedum et manuum ac eciam camisie pro insigniis resuscitatorum, baculi, seu potencie, torchi et cerei magni, et multa alia que propter eorum multitudinem dictus testis enarrare nesciret'.25 Certainly it was against the Franciscans, who were celebrating a feast day and calling Charles both a saint and martyr without papal approval, that Urban V, at the prompting of John IV, issued a bull on 15 September 1368, instructing the Breton bishops to halt these practices.26 21

Vauchez, p. 270/230. Ibid., p. 269/229-30, after Monuments, pp. 283, 324, 337. 23 Monuments, pp. 192, 241, 277-8 (statues etc.); Pocquet, Les papes, i. 334 and 350 (Begaignon); Antoine de Serent, 'Charles de Blois, due de Bretagne (1319-1364) et 1'ordre de Saint Francois', Etudes franciscaines, 7 (1956), 204-21, and 8 (1957), 59~7524 Monuments, pp. 325, 330, 334. 25 Ibid., pp. 395-6. 26 Lettres secretes et curiales de Urbain V, ed. P. Lechacheux and G. Mollat (Paris, 1902-55), no. 2843; Vauchez, 'Canonisation', p. 384 n. 12. 22

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By then John had clearly woken up to the political dangers which the cult posed for his own recently established authority. A personal experience at Candlemas 1368 brought home the need for urgent action. Lodging in the Franciscan convent at Dinan for a meeting of the etats, the duke noticed a mural depicting the life of St Francis with a kneeling donor-figure of Blois, identified by the arms of Brittany.27 He ordered it to be whitewashed; next day drops of what appeared to be blood oozed through. As the astonishing news spread, queues formed to gather the liquid, but the duke's household, including some English knights and esquires, among them Robert Knolles, scathingly mocked Breton credulity: 'Falsi rustici vel villani, vos creditis quod sit sanctus, vos mentimini, pravi rustici, per sanctum Georgium, non est sanctus'.28 A ladder was brought and the image further defaced with predictable results: one iconoclast was struck with paralysis. Other miraculous events also began to occur elsewhere not just where support for Blois had traditionally been strong, as in the Tregor, where notarial records attest miracles from 10 June 1368, but alarmingly from 12 June also around Vannes, a principal centre of Montfortist power from the earliest days of the civil war.29 It is thus no surprise that messengers made hotfoot for Avignon; on 15 September 1368 the pope tried to reassure John IV by reporting that he had received no direct request to canonize Charles and that if he were to do so he would safeguard the duke's rights, a message repeated when the bull suppressing Blois's cult was issued.30 But the bishops failed to implement it and a year later, despite promises and a generally favourable attitude towards John IV, Urban V capitulated to requests from Charles V, unnamed bishops and the children of Blois to institute proceedings by appointing a commission headed by Louis de Thezard, bishop of Bayeux, to inquire into Blois's sanctity.31 From this point events ensured, as they had threatened to do since Blois's death, that the matter would assume much wider significance than simply a quarrel between two branches of the ruling ducal family. A few ramifications can be mentioned. Some political issues were very sensitive; for example, the relations of John IV with Urban V and his successor, Gregory XI, with his sovereign, 27 Monuments, pp. 283, 291-3, 406-7; cf. de Serent, Etudes franciscaines, 8 (1957), 61-5; Vauchez, p. 270/230-1; Prigent, pp. 122-3; L. Hery, 'Le culte de Charles de Blois: resistances et reticences', Annales de Bretagne et des pays de I'Ouest, 103 (1996), 40-2. 28 Monuments, p. 283. 29 Ibid., pp. 415-24, 437-40, 442-3. 30 Lettres secretes et curiales du Urbain V, no. 2818, 16 August 1368, but cf. ibid., no. 2843, Pocquet, Les papes, i. 359n. (correcting Monuments, p. 735), and Vauchez, 'Canonisation', p. 384 n. 13, for 15 September 1368. 31 Monuments, pp. 3-4, 17 August 1369.

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Charles V, with his former protector, Edward III, as England and France moved inexorably again to open warfare, and with his own bishops and other subjects, especially those who had reconciled themselves to his rule after previously serving Blois. Tact and skill were necessary to steer a safe course and both public and private interests guaranteed that Duke John's late rival's canonization would be a weapon in any diplomatic manoeuvres. These can be followed at best only in the broadest outline in surviving evidence; at worst they remain completely hidden from view. Take relations with Charles V, for example. After the defeat and death of Blois, peace was agreed between his widow and John IV, thanks to his mediation; later Charles accepted the new duke's homage and formal relations were carefully established, with Charles even smoothing out financial problems arising from John's inability, feigned or otherwise, to pay a substantial pension owed in return for Jeanne de Penthievre's renunciation of her claims to the succession.32 The deterioration of Anglo-French relations in 1368-9 undermined this fragile entente. John IV still had strong ties with Edward III, who was anxious to renew them as war with France loomed; many of John's leading advisers were Englishmen; among Bretons in his service several, including most significantly his chancellor, Hugues de Montrelais, bishop of Saint-Brieuc, and others who were involved in negotiations with Avignon like Guy de Cleder, archdeacon of Dinan and Guillaume Paris, dean of Nantes, had previously served Blois.33 Their new loyalty had yet to be seriously tested. Since there were fears that John would openly espouse Edward's cause, the chance to embarrass him and sow dissension at his court by supporting the call for an inquiry into the sanctity of Blois must have appeared very opportune to Charles V in 1369. Nor can it be entirely coincidental that Charles now began to woo some of John IV's former supporters, including Olivier, lord of Clisson, to stir up trouble on Brittany's borders, and to show a renewed interest in Penthievre claims. Among these were rights in the viscounty of Limoges, then under the Black Prince, which on 9 July 1369 Jeanne released completely to Charles.34 Though no proof can be offered, we may speculate that this was the price for his support in approaching the papacy over the canonization. There is also the matter of the Blois hostages in England: since 1356 Jean and Guy, the late duke's eldest sons, had been pledges for the huge ransom of 700,000 ecus exacted by Jones, Ducal Brittany, pp. 46ff; Recueil, nos 305, 310-14. Pocquet, Les papes, i, passim, for Montrelais, Cleder and Paris. 34 Recueil, no. 320 (Archives Nationales, J 242, no. 51), 9 July 1369; for the circumstances of this 'fictitious' release and Charles V's counter letters stating that the transfer had not taken effect, see R. Delachenal, Histoire de Charles V (5 vols, Paris, 1909-30), iv. 223 n. 2. 32

33

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Edward III for Charles's release. Of this sum, only a small proportion had been paid at his death, and although John IV had agreed to arrange the hostages' release in 1365, they were still closely confined in 1369, pawns in Edward Ill's hands. Would their father's canonization improve their lot? Straws in the wind suggest that they took an active part in promoting it, but it was not until the mid-13805 that this particular hostage crisis was resolved.35 Once more, though likely connections between events can be suggested that do not rely solely on simultaneity, proof is impossible on current evidence. What is certain is that there was much diplomatic intrigue: both Breton factions kept in touch regularly with Avignon. Embassies were also active in Paris and at other courts.36 Hugues de Montrelais found himself in a particularly ambivalent position as spokesman for John IV, former servant of Jeanne de Penthievre, and bishop of a diocese in which the cult of St Charles was taking firm hold.37 For the moment he appears to have adhered closely to John IV: when on 22 October 1370, just over a year after the pope had empowered the bishop of Bayeux and others to start canonization proceedings, Urban V renewed their mandate, it was now only to be exercized outside Brittany.38 At the same time, the role of Louis, duke of Anjou and his wife, Marie, the late duke's daughter, in promoting Blois's cause also becomes more evident, as they took over and directed more forcefully the earlier advocacy of the Franciscans. For instance, two months after the renewed papal commission, on 10 December 1370 at Toulouse, Marie issued her own procuration to Brother Raoul de Kerguiniou of Guingamp, the key figure locally in instigating the proceedings, to assemble witnesses to appear before the commissioners. This was the first of several procurations by the Anjou-Penthievre family, including one issued on 15 May 1371 at Devizes in Wiltshire by her brothers, Jean and Guy, another by their mother on 24 June, and one by Louis of Anjou on 8 July.39 By then, however, Gregory XI had succeeded Urban 35 Michael Jones, 'The Ransom of Jean de Bretagne, Count of Penthievre: An Aspect of English Foreign Policy, 1386-1388', Bulletin of the Institute of Historical Research, 45 (1972), 7-26 (The Creation of Brittany, pp. 263-82). Accounts for the hostages' upkeep survive for most years from 1364-85: PRO, Lists and Indexes, 11, Foreign Accounts, p. 107. 36 Recueil des actes de Jean IV, due de Bretagne, ed. Michael Jones (2 vols, Paris, I98c^3)> i- nos 145, 150, 154, 163, 163A, etc. 37 Though twenty-four inhabitants of Lamballe made excuses for not appearing at Angers (Monuments, pp. 452-4). 38 Ibid., pp. 4-5. A mandate of Charles V, dated 8 August, for payment of 1000 francs to the bishop of Bayeux 'lequel doit aller es parties de Bretaigne, d'Anjou et du Meine, pour certaines grosses besoignes que notre saint pere li a comises' probably dates to 1370: Mandements et actes divers de Charles V, ed. L. Delisle (Paris, 1874), no. 1981. 39 Monuments, pp. 5-8.

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V, and though he early showed enthusiasm for the inquiry, a personal matter threatened to influence his actions in the affair. For Roger de Beaufort, the new pope's brother, had recently been captured by the Captal de Buch, lieutenant of Charles II of Navarre, and in trying energetically to arrange his release, Gregory was in touch with several parties already involved in Blois's canonization and intrigue was rife.40 An immediate loser was John IV, whose fragile hold on power in Brittany was crumbling. His efforts to prevent the long-heralded inquiry being held failed in the late summer of 1371. Despite financial difficulties and John's threats against potential witnesses, it opened at Angers on 9 September I37I.41 In the next three months it heard 195 Breton and other testimonies and received written submissions relating to 187 miracles attributed to Blois, the majority healing miracles.42 John IV's representatives continued to protest at Avignon as the inquiry proceeded. As late as 20 November Anjou still feared that it might yet be abandoned because of escalating costs, a worry only lifted when Brother Raoul de Kerguiniou was paid 700 francs in January I372.43 By then the initial investigation was complete and the documents forwarded to Avignon for further scrutiny, along with letters from the bishops of Saint-Pol de Leon, Saint-Malo, Rennes, the recentlyinstalled Jean le Brun of Treguier and the abbot of Mont-Saint-Michel, urging swift completion of the formalities. The Breton bishops could hardly be unaware of John IV's views and of how this would jeopardize his position (Le Brun had been John's almoner and made a leg injury his excuse for not appearing in person at Angers);44 their defiance is evidence of the divisions among the duchy's ruling elite over current policies, but also reflects disputes between the Breton church and state over episcopal rights that long antedated John's reign.45 Two successive bishops of Treguier had encouraged the cult of Blois, despite John IV's opposition; relations with Saint-Malo had been embittered by a feud between the bishop and duke over their respective rights 40 Ibid., pp. 2-3, cf. Pocquet, Les papes, i. 360; Vauchez, 'Canonisation', p. 384 n. 16. By I February 1371 Gregory was already seeking help from Charles V for the ransom, Lettres secretes et cunales du Pape Gregoire XI, 1370-1378, relatives a la France, ed. L. Mirot et al. (Paris, 1935-57), no. 32; cf. also 39 and 132; Michael Jones, 'Fortunes et malheurs de guerre: autour de la rancon du chevalier anglais Jean Bourchier (+1400)', in La guerre, la violence et les gens au moyen age, i, Guerre et violence, ed. Ph. Contamine and O. Guyotjeannin (Paris, 1996), pp. 199-203, for Beaufort's ransom. 41 Monuments, pp. iff. 42 Herve Martin, Les ordres mendiants en Bretagne (vers 1230-vers 1530) (Paris, 1975), pp. 366-71, the best short discussion; see also Hery, Annales de Bretagne, 103 (1996), 39-56. 43 Paul Hay du Chastelet, Histoire de Bertrand du Guesclin (Paris, 1666), pp. 305-8. 44 Du Chesne, Chastilkn, p. 132; for Le Brun's letter of excuse but with an encomium of Blois, see Monuments, pp. 450-2. 45 Pocquet, Les papes i, passim.

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in the city, inflamed by the recent construction of the ducal Tour Solidor to cow the citizens. A desultory siege of Saint-Malo by Silvestre de la Feuillee, captain of Solidor, exacerbated matters in 1371-2. Similar ducal towers had also been built provocatively at Saint-Brieuc and Quimper; the latter particularly incensed local church authorities and attracted papal threats of excommunication at the very moment that the curia began examining the Angers inquiry.46 Despite such setbacks, John IV did not relax his diplomacy. Protests continued at Avignon, with efforts concentrating on finding technical faults to invalidate the inquiry.47 Gregory XI's concern for his brother's ransom provided some leverage. In order to raise money for Beaufort's release, his marriage to a rich Breton heiress Jeanne, lady of Rays, was arranged; Gregory XI wrote to Hugues de Montrelais, asking him to forward the matter on 8 March 1372 and a fortnight later sent Guy de Cleder to remonstrate with John over his excesses (notably at SaintMalo) and with instructions to collect various taxes.48 There was obviously bargaining room here: in return for allowing subsidies to be raised and the Beaufort-Rays match to proceed, the duke could ask that the canonization make no further progress. Nor did he give up efforts at the French court, where around i April envoys complained about Charles V's part in promoting the inquiry.49 But the slow deterioration of John's position continued. A new stage was reached on 18 June 1372, when Gregory XI appointed three cardinals to examine the records of the Angers inquiry. Two days later messengers were despatched to Brittany, presumably to inform the duke.50 On i July a notarized copy of the testimony from Angers was officially handed to Cardinal Grimoard, despite protests by John IV's proctor.51 The firm line that the pope was taking over the duke's various interests was reinforced by two letters on 4 and 9 July ordering him to desist from attacks on the bishops of Saint-Malo and Quimper.52 In the meantime the cardinals' commission heard arguments for and against breaking the seals on the Angers inquirybook at meetings on 10, 17, 26, 27 and 29 July and 4 August, when not only spokesmen of the Penthievre and Montfort parties presented their cases but independent experts were also called in. On 7 August, again 46

Ibid., i. 374ff. Lettres secretes et curiales du Gregoire XI, no. 775; Vauchez, 'Canonisation', pp. 390-1. 48 Lettres secretes et curiales du Gregoire XI, nos 691, 711-20, cf. also nos 686, 692-4, 758; Pocquet, Lespapes, i. 368, 381-2. 49 Morice, Preuves, ii. 37; Recueil Jean IV, no. I95A; Pocquet, Les papes, i. 361; Vauchez, 'Canonisation', p. 391 n. 29. 50 Lettres secretes et curiales du Gregoire XI, no. 829; Vauchez, 'Canonisation', p. 390. 51 Vauchez, 'Canonisation', p. 390. Grimoard was Urban V's brother. 52 Lettres secretes et curiales du Gregoire XI, nos 846 and 2596. 47

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in the face of strong protests by John IV's proctor, the original seals were broken open. Finally, after more discussion, on 30 August 1372 the results of the Angers inquiry were officially received by the curia.53 Then despite John IV's own mounting political and military difficulties in Brittany, where support for him had all but evaporated and the arrival of an English expeditionary force under John, lord Neville, simply aggravated matters, proceedings at the curia inexplicably hung fire.54 On 22 October 1372 Hugues de Montrelais, whose role throughout appears extremely devious, agreed not to oppose the canonization and protested his fealty to Louis of Anjou, although still chancellor of John IV to whom he had sworn a similar oath only a few months earlier.55 In any event John IV trusted him sufficiently to send him back to Avignon with Guy de Cleder. On their arrival, the Beaufort-Rays match, for which Montrelais acted as proctor, was contracted in the pope's own presence on 3 December.56 Though John IV's relations with Gregory XI were complicated by continuing disputes at Saint-Malo, the fact that a papal embassy sent to Brittany early in 1373 was detained en route by royal officers suggests that an accommodation had been reached.57 For when John fled his duchy in late April and the field was clear for a final declaration of Blois's sanctity, nothing happened. It was three years - years of intense Anglo-French diplomatic and military activity - before it again appeared on the papal agenda.58 This was in February 1376, two months after Montrelais's elevation to the cardinalate, while Brittany was now firmly in the hands of Charles V's lieutenants, when the pope ruled that the faults of form in the Angers inquiry were not sufficient to invalidate it, thus clearing the way for a final decision.59 Although curial scrutiny had reduced the miracles attributed to Charles to a sixth of those reported at Angers, enough proof remained for his sanctity to be accepted.60 Rumours Vauchez, 'Canonisation', pp. 393-404, printing the Processus super apericione libri habitus in curia. 54 Jones, Ducal Brittany., pp. 6yff, for John's alliance with Edward III in 1372. 55 Hay du Chastelet, pp. 308-9, and Morice, Preuves, ii. 50-1; Archives Departementales de la Loire-Atlantique, E 142 no. 22, 9 May 1372 (fealty to John IV). 56 Lettres secretes et curiaks du Gregoire XI, nos 1028-9; Cleder was certainly at the curia by 26 November (ibid., no. 994); their mission suggests that Pocquet's view (Lespapes, i. 360) that Montrelais supported the canonization in December 1371 is incorrect. 57 Lettres secretes et curiales du Gregoire XI, no. 1161, 22 March 1373; Cleder was sent to collect taxes in the dioceses of Reims and Sens in March 1373, a move probably designed to remove him from John IV's presence at a critical moment (Pocquet, Les papes, i. 388). 58 George Holmes, The Good Parliament (Oxford, 1975), for a good treatment of Anglo-French and papal diplomacy in the early 13705. 59 Pocquet, Les papes, i. 361 after Reg. Av. 287, fo. 38v, edited in idem, 'La "saintete" de Charles de Blois', Revue des questions historiques, 54 (1926), 114-15. 60 Vauchez, p. 563/482 n. 5. 53

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began to circulate to this effect. On 7 September 1376, Cristoforo di Piacenza, an envoy of Ludovico Gonzaga, ruler of Mantua., wrote from Avignon to his master that on the following Wednesday (10 September), 'Gregorius X I . . . ducem Britanie qui, uti audio, fuit iustus dominus, canonizat'.61 It is possible that it was just such news that caused John IV, an exile in England since April 1373, to leave hurriedly for Flanders in August 1376, a move which certainly took Edward III by surprise.62 Alarm proved unnecessary: on 13 September Gregory XI finally left Avignon for Rome and nothing more was heard of Blois's canonization for the rest of his pontificate.63 Nor does it appear to have resurfaced when anti-pope Clement VII succeeded, despite his close links with Charles V, Louis of Anjou and Hugues de Montrelais; the fact that most documents concerning the case were almost certainly then in Urban VI's hands at Rome may also have been an important consideration in preventing further progress.64 It was obviously providential for John IV, whose luck soon changed even more dramatically when an attempt by Charles V to take advantage of his absence from Brittany and to annex it directly to the crown in December 1378 completely misfired. Underestimating the strength of provincial sentiment, this move strained relations with Jeanne de Penthievre and provoked another strong reaction amongst Breton nobles and townsmen that led them to recall John IV from England in August I379-65 Few, even in his own family, now appeared interested in formally pursuing Blois's canonization, which remained in abeyance until the 18705. 61

A. Segre, 'I dispacci di Cristoforo di Piacenza procuratore mantovano alia corte pontificia, 1371-1383', Archivio storico italiano, 5th series, 43 (1909), 94. 62 Foedera, III, ii. 1062, 23 August 1376: 'nostre tres cher filz Johan, due de Bretaigne, par consail et abatement des auscuns Bretouns est alez en Randres sans scieu de nous et ne savons a quele entente . . .'; John was at Robertsbridge abbey, Sussex on 10 August (Recueiljean IV, i. no. 245). 63 N. M. Denis-Boulet argued that Blois was indeed canonized in 1376: 'La canonisation de Charles de Blois (1376)', Revue d'histoire de I'eglise de France, 28 (1942), 217-24. But she was refuted by M-H. Laurent, 'Charles de Blois fut-il canonise en 1376?', ibid., 46 (1951), 182-6, and 47 (1952), 192-4, a view now generally accepted (cf. Vauchez, p. 292/250 n. 5). 64 Monuments, p. 743; Louis of Anjou, in his will of 26 September 1383, Archives Nationales, J IO43A and P I33417 no. 33 = E. Martene and U. Durand, Thesaurus novus anecdotorum (3 vols, Paris, 1717), i. 1594-1612, stipulated that if he were to obtain the kingdom of Naples, 'diligemment et de tout nostre povoir nous poursuivrons a despens les canonizacions de saint memoire pape Urbain Ve, de messire Charles, jadis due de Bretaigne pere de la royne nostre compaigne, et celle de la demme [de] saint Elizeare, conte de Arian' (ibid., 1606 and cf. Revue d'histoire de I'eglise de France, 46 (1951), 185). For Elzear of Sabran (d. 1323, canonized 1369) and his wife, Delphine (d. 1360), see Vauchez, passim and J. Campbell, Enquete pour le proces de canonisation de Dauphine de Puimichel (Turin, 1978). 65 Jones, Ducal Brittany, pp. 85-7.

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By 1380, then, Charles's cult had already passed its apogee; as those who had personally known or served him died, and John IV and his successors entrenched themselves in power, enthusiasm inevitably waned.66 The sadly mutilated tomb of Roland de Coetgoureheden, Charles's seneschal, erected at Guingamp in the mid-13705, now provides one of the few contemporary material traces of his cult since the paintings, stained glass and images of Blois once found in other late medieval churches and chapels have almost entirely perished. Although heavily restored, enough of the original monument remains to show that the crowned figure presenting Coetgoureheden to the Virgin is Charles himself, a duke who, for all his piety and neglect of secular responsibilities, was indeed conscious of his regalities.67 Fragmentary murals at Saint-Leonard de Mayenne provide another rare indication of a cult which flourished as much beyond Brittany as within it, usually being connected with places where feudal lordship or the Franciscans provided direct links with the Penthievre family.68 Documentary evidence for veneration of Blois after 1380 is now almost as scarce as the archaeological. Bertrand du Guesclin, constable of France, who had long served the Penthievre cause, in the will he drew up in July 1380, instructed a pilgrim to visit and pray for him at the tombs of St Charles and St Yves.69 A few others followed suit.70 Some like the blessed Jeanne-Marie de Maille treasured relics; at her death in 1414, she owned part of one of Blois's hair-shirts.71 The Carmelites of Angers for many years had a famous richly embroidered pourpoint or doublet, now in the Musee des Tissus at Lyon, which is attributed to Blois, further evidence that he did not always spurn worldly display.72 John, duke of Berry, had a copy of the canonization inquiry in his famous library; other copies besides those still extant are known.73 But as the Montfort dynasty tightened its hold after 1381, few openly displayed an enduring enthusiasm for Charles. It is even Monuments, pp. J2^ff. J.-Y. Copy, Art, politique et societe au temps des dues de Bretagne: les gisants hautbretons (Paris, 1986), p. 113, and Prigent, Pouvoir, pp. 128-31 (Coetgoureheden); Michael Jones, ' "En son habit royal": le due de Bretagne et son image vers la fin du moyen age', in Representation, pouvoir et royaute a la fin du moyen age, ed. J. Blanchard (Paris, 1995), pp. 271-3, briefly examines what John IV's symbolism owed to Blois. 68 I have been unable to obtain an article from La province du Maine, cited by Vauchez and Prigent for the murals; for the lordship and lands of Blois in Maine see Recueil, passim. 69 Morice, Preuves, ii. 287. 70 Monuments, p. 745. 71 Ibid., p. 746. 72 PI. 27 in Patrick Galliou and Michael Jones, The Bretons (Oxford, 1991), p. 228. 73 Monuments, p. 746 (Berry); for a copy at the abbey of Cluny of the testimony collected in 1371, lost at the Revolution, see L. Delisle, Inventaire des manuscrits de la Bibliotheque Nationale, Ponds de Cluni (Paris, 1884), p. xx. 66 67

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possible that a verse-life of John IV written by his secretary, Guillaume de St-Andre, c. 1382-4, was a deliberate attempt to provide an alternative ideal Montfortist model of a Christian ruler to counter current views of Charles de Blois; John IV was not slow to seize other such opportunities for effective propaganda.74 Certainly by 1400 little is heard of Blois's cult except for one final medieval echo: on 24 August 1454 Guillaume de Bretagne, Charles's last surviving grandson, domiciled far from the duchy, urged his relatives in his will to continue to press for the canonization. But nothing came of it.75 Nevertheless some continued to revere his memory: when the prince of Dombes sacked Guingamp during the Wars of Religion in 1591, Blois's physical remains were spirited away by the Franciscans and later lodged by Dombes' rival, the due de Mercoeur, in the still-surviving chapel of Notre-Dame des Graces on the outskirts of the own.76 They were periodically displayed in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries before the Revolution brought new indignities. Choice relics, like a leg bone given to the bishop of Blois in 1731, had already been detached;77 in 1843 a M. de Blois of Morlaix divided what was left into four parts, depositing one with the bishop of Quimper; a second portion eventually found its way to Blois. In 1874 farce marred the solemn transfer of the remaining bones to a new reliquary at Notre-Dame des Graces when it proved to be too small, a matter set right by making an elaborate new one in the following year. Though driven shortly afterwards into exile in Spain by a staunchly republican government, a group of religious led by Dom Plaine, continued to press for official recognition of a cult which still attracted a following. In 1889 a new dossier was presented to Rome; in 1892 the process was reopened and, finally, in 1904, Charles de Blois was raised to the ranks of the blessed. A year later a magnificent service was held in Blois to celebrate his elevation at which many eulogies were pronounced.78 Enthusiasm in Brittany itself remained muted until July 1910 when a procession was held at Guingamp in which ten bishops and some 30,000 people allegedly took part. Because of some 74 Michael Jones, 'Un prince et son biographe: Jean IV, due de Bretagne (1364-1399) et Guillaume de Saint-Andre', in Les princes et I'histoire du XlVe au XVIIIe siecles, ed. Chantal Grell et al. (Bonn, 1998), pp. 189-203. 75 Archives Departementales des Pyrenees-Atlantiques, E 648 (Monuments, p. 753). 76 Monuments, p. 747-8. 77 Landevennec, Fonds Lebreton, Paroisses: Graces, letter of M. de Caumartin, bishop of Blois asking for a relic, 29 June 1730, together with an account of the separation 'd'un os de la Jambe', 20 May 1731. 78 Ibid., pp. iv-viii. The panegyric of Monseigneur Touchet, bishop of Orleans, included an extraordinarily Anglophobic denunciation of Edward III and the Montfortists.

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unexplained damage, the reliquary had to be replaced again in I929,79 while in 1939 the first parish church dedicated to St Charles de Blois was opened at Auray itself. But the most enduring monument to the prodigious efforts of Dom Plaine and Dom Antoine de Serent, who shared his enthusiasm for Blois, is the lovingly prepared edition of the Processus Apostolici published in 1921. As one who first met John IV of Brittany while studying the special subject 'Richard II' with James Campbell, later becoming that duke's apologist and a student of the late medieval Breton state, I do not begrudge this posthumous vindication. It has become increasingly clear recently that the Montfortists owe more to Charles de Blois than I, for one, have commonly acknowledged. His reign saw the start of major administrative developments, especially as financial needs during the Breton civil war began transforming seigneurial, patrimonial, forms of governance into professionalized and bureaucratic ones as more regular forms of taxation were imposed. But it can also, and even more significantly, be seen as a decisive period in the elaboration of the myth and symbolism that later provided the Montfort dynasty with some of its most powerful tools for state-building. Through his piety, Charles, for instance, popularized the cult of his sainted predecessors, Salomon and Judicael (with their largely mythical vitae), thereby reviving notions of Breton kingship;80 he emphasized the use of a royal crown (rather than the traditional ducal cercle), as is seen on Coetgoureheden's tomb and his own signet seal; he used the title ldei gratia1 on his gold coinage (another usurpation of what the Valois would later consider their sovereign rights).81 These lessons in projecting a particular image of the duke were not lost on John IV and his successors, for whom ducal 'regalities' in a wide variety of guises were fundamental to claims not only to adminsitrative but also to ideological autonomy. The political intrigues over Charles de Blois's sanctification traced here surely reflect strong contemporary awareness of the importance of this image-making for the Breton state. It was impossible, of course, for the Montfortists to endorse Blois's sanctity, but they could copy and even improve upon Blois's methods once they were firmly in power. How John IV managed (albeit somewhat fortuitously) to survive the major crisis which the proposed sanctification of his late rival posed to his embryo state has 79

Cf. the account of the translation of relics to a new reliquary on 10 March 1929, Landevennec, Fonds Lebreton, Paroisses: Graces. 80 Cf. A. Vauchez, 'Le due Charles de Blois (+1364) et le culte des saints rois bretons du haut moyen age', in Haut moyen age: culture, education et societe: etudes offertes a Pierre Riche, ed. Michel Sot (Paris, 1990), pp. 5-15. 81 Jones, 'En son habit royal', 271-3; Copy, p. 111, for a royal d'or issued in imitation of John II of France.

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been the main subject of this account; it is offered as a small token of gratitude to James Campbell who first introduced me to the late fourteenth century.

13 The Empire of Tamerlane: An Unsuccessful Re-Run of the Mongol State? DAVID MORGAN Tamerlane, Timur the Lame (?I336-I4O5), has not on the whole had a good press from historians. For Gibbon he was 'rather the scourge than the benefactor of mankind'. While, at the time of his accession, it might have been true that 'Asia was the prey of anarchy and rapine', and that Timur restored some kind of order, 'the remedy was far more pernicious than the disease . . . the petty tyrants of Persia might afflict their subjects; but whole nations were crushed under the footsteps of the reformer. The ground which had been occupied by flourishing cities, was often marked by his abominable trophies, by columns, or pyramids, of human heads.' He was not even much of an empire-builder, since 'his most destructive wars were rather inroads than conquests. He invaded Turkestan, Kipzak, Russia, Hindostan, Syria, Anatolia, Armenia and Georgia, without a hope or a desire of preserving those distant provinces. From thence he departed, laden with spoil; but he left behind him neither troops to awe the contumacious, nor magistrates to protect the obedient, natives.'1 Timur's early court historians, notably Nizam al-Din Shami and Sharaf al-Din 'Ali Yazdi (who wrote in Persian), of course presented a very different picture of their hero and patron. Nevertheless, the all too obvious facts of death and destruction on a massive scale have deterred most modern historians from taking Timur at his apologists' evaluation. More influential, among the contemporary accounts, was the hostile polemic of Ibn 'Arabshah (though this might also have something to do with the fact that his book, unlike Shami's and Yazdi's, exists in a comparatively recent and accessible English translation).2 The standard biography in English, since its publication in 1962, has been Hilda 1 Edward Gibbon, The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, ed. D. Womersley (3 vols, London, 1994), ii. 850. 2 Ibn 'Arabshah, Tamerlane or Timur, the Great Amir, trans. J. H. Sanders (London, 1936).

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Hookham's Tamburlaine the Conqueror.3 This is a strikingly good book, very judicious and well informed: the remarkable work of a history teacher at a midlands girls' grammar school who is otherwise chiefly remembered as having been Margot Fonteyn's mother. But although her book filled the need for a modern, up-to-date biography, it did little to change the traditional picture. It could well be argued that this was because the traditional picture was in essence right. But in one respect, at least, Timur subsequently came in for a degree of rehabilitation. There was and is little that can be done for his human rights record. But it can be shown that although what he did was certainly unpleasant, he at least knew what he was about. The old version of his career tended to represent it as a series of more or less random campaigns of plunder and destruction. There seemed to be no overall plan, no rational basis underlying it. To establish that such a rationale did in fact exist (or at any rate that it very probably did) was the achievement of Beatrice Forbes Manz, in her The Rise and Rule of Tamerlane, published in I989.4 She argued that Timur had found a solution to the perennial problem faced by every nomadic tribal unifier: what to do with his previously, and still potentially, unruly followers once they were denied their traditional custom of raiding and pillaging each other. The answer was in itself an obvious one, and in principle the same as that adopted by Chinggis (Genghis) Khan in the thirteenth century and indeed by the Prophet Muhammad's successors in the seventh: the mounting of external campaigns of conquest. This would keep his followers pleasantly and profitably employed, sufficiently busy, and sufficiently contented, not to be a danger to the state which they had been instrumental in founding. Between 1370, when Timur had achieved a dominant position in his homeland of Transoxania, and 1405, when he died, he was almost invariably away from home, campaigning in one direction or another. With him went his superlative army of (largely) Chaghatai nomad cavalry. There was little delegation of authority: Timur trusted no one, and preferred to remain personally in command. With the army of Transoxania under his own eye and enjoying itself in devastating other territories, he could be sure of its loyalty. Eventually, detachments of Chaghatai nomads were permanently settled in conquered territories, and tribal levies from the conquered lands were transferred to Transoxania, thus both ensuring the security of Timur's homeland and reducing the number of troops that might be available to his defeated enemies. In Beatrice Manz's view Timur's main priority, then, was not empire-building as such but control of his own military elite. This is the 3 4

Hilda Hookham, Tamburlaine the Conqueror (London, 1962). Beatrice Forbes Manz, The Rise and Rule of Tamerlane (Cambridge, 1989).

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explanation she offers for the apparent inefficiency of Timur's career of conquest, in that he seems to be continually invading the same areas. As long as his soldiers were contented, fighting and plundering in someone else's territory rather than at home in Transoxania, then all was well. In the light of this, to what extent - if at all - can Timur's career be seen as an attempt to re-establish the empire of Chinggis Khan? It should first of all be pointed out that there is a case for maintaining that Timur did nothing of the sort.5 Chinggis and his successors had built up an empire by attacking and conquering the great sedentary lands of Asia from a base in their native steppe grasslands to the north: Timur did just the opposite. He fought with an army of Chaghatai nomads not dissimilar in lifestyle or military organization from the followers of Chinggis Khan, but he operated from a secure base in largely sedentary Transoxania. And though he campaigned continually in sedentary Persia, many of his campaigns were attacks on nomadic areas, the Golden Horde to the north and the Chaghatai khanate to the east. More to the point, as Gibbon rightly observed, these and other expeditions were 'rather inroads than conquests': he made no attempt to incorporate those nomadic areas, or indeed Anatolia, into his empire, although they had all been parts of the Mongol Empire. He seems largely to have been concerned to neutralize them, to ensure that they would pose no threat to his own power. He showed no interest in ruling these vast territories. This was an odd way in which to go about reconstituting the Mongol Empire. Nevertheless, there is in fact no doubt that Timur's career was represented, then and later, as the re-establishment of that Empire. First, there is Timur's alleged birth date. Much play was made of the claim that Timur was born in the very same (Muslim) year in which Abu Sa'id, the last effective Mongol ruler of Persia, had died. Khwandamir, a late Timurid historian, puts it like this: 'In the year 736 [1335/6], when Sultan Abu Sa'id Bahadur Khan died, the Chinggisid sultans' fortune and independence came to an end in Iran. In accordance with the miraculous words, "Whatever verse we abrogate, or cause thee to forget, we will bring a better than it, or one like unto it" [Qur'an 2, 106], Amir Timur Giiregen was born . . . for in Rabi' I of the abovementioned year occurred the death of the felicitous padishah Abu Sa'id, and on Tuesday eve the 25th of Sha'ban 736 [8 April 1336] the SahibQiran [Timur] was born in Kish.'6 A similar point is made in the inscriptions on Timur's cenotaph and tombstone in the Gur-i Mir in Samarqand, both of which attribute to Timur a common ancestry with Cf. David Morgan, Medieval Persia, 1040-1797 (London, 1988), p. 89. Khwandamir, Habib al-Siyar, ed. Jalal Huma'i (Tehran, AHS 1333), iii. 393: translation (slightly adapted) from Wheeler M. Thackston, A Century of Princes: Sources on Timurid History and Art (Cambridge, MA, 1989), p. 102. 5 6

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Chinggis Khan (contrary to what has often been alleged, by myself and others, Timur never claimed actually to be descended from Chinggis Khan).7 It might be added that the accounts we have of Timur's early life bear a striking, and perhaps a suspicious, resemblance to the early life of Chinggis Khan as portrayed in such documents as the Secret History of the Mongols. Even if he left large parts of the old Mongol Empire invaded and subjugated but essentially unoccupied, there can be little doubt that, in Beatrice Manz's words, Timur 'set out to conquer the whole of the former Mongol Empire and almost succeeded'.8 It should be remembered that at the very end of his life, Timur was en route to Ming China, the conquest of which, if achieved, would certainly have confirmed his standing as successor to the Mongols. There had, however, been important changes since the days of Chinggis Khan. Timur had been born and brought up a Muslim, as had his Transoxanian followers. He was a product of a Muslim as well as a tribal nomadic society. So he functioned within both the Turco-Mongol and the Islamic traditions. This had advantages and disadvantages. A problem with the TurcoMongol tradition was that, in the circumstances of the late fourteenth century, the prestige of the house of Chinggis Khan was so vast that only a member of that lineage could legitimately reign and have the title of Khan, whereas in the Islamic tradition the holder of real power, the sultan (an Arabic word originally meaning 'power') should also act as the formal ruler. Timur seems on the whole to have laid his principal emphasis on the Turco-Mongol heritage. He married two Chinggisid princesses, thus earning himself the title of guregen> son-in-law, and until the last years of his life he maintained a member of the house of Chinggis Khan as nominal khan. It is true that no one could have been under any misapprehension about where the real power lay - the nominal khan did not, for example, take precedence over Timur at court - but it was evidently felt to be a necessary element of legitimation. It is interesting, though, to notice that Timur's tame Chinggisid was not a member of the house of Chaghatai, Chinggis Khan's second son whose descendants had ruled in Transoxania before the time of Timur (and who continued to rule in the eastern half of the old Chaghatai khanate, known as to the Transoxanians, perhaps disparagingly, as Mughulistan, the land of the Mongols). Timur's Chinggisid Khan was a descendant of Ogedei, The standard study is now John E. Woods, 'Timur's Genealogy', in Intellectual Studies on Islam: Essays Written in Honor of Martin B. Dickson, ed. Michel M. Mazzaoui and Vera B. Moreen (Salt Lake City, 1990), pp 85-125. For my own misleading remark about the inscriptions, see David Morgan, Medieval Persia, p. 85. 8 Beatrice Forbes Manz, 'Tamerlane and the Symbolism of Sovereignty', Iranian Studies, 21 (1988), 105. 7

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Chinggis's third son and immediate successor as Great Khan (r. 1229-41): this was a line not much associated with rule over a particular khanate among those into which the Mongol Empire had fallen. It is conceivable, therefore, that in deciding that his empire should be represented, nominally, by a descendant of Ogedei, Timur was at least implying a universal claim: to be the restorer of the Mongol Empire as a whole, not merely the Chaghatai Khanate or the Ilkhanate in Persia. It may well be that Timur found his inescapably non-Chinggisid status distinctly frustrating. This could be an explanation for the grandiosity of some of his projects, whether destructive - the barbarity of his massacres makes those of Chinggis pale into comparative insignificance - or constructive. His glorification of Samarqand, the capital he rarely saw, and his erection of suburbs named after the great cities he had sacked, is well known. Most conspicuous of all was his great mosque, the Bibi Khanum. This was so grandiose that its dome collapsed very quickly. Some indication of why this may have happened may be deduced from a story told by Timur's historian Sharaf al-Din 'Ali Yazdi: When His Highness [Timur] passed through the congregational mosque he had erected, the gateway (dargah) that had been built during his absence seemed too small and low in his exalted view. He therefore issued an edict that it be razed and another,- larger and higher, be built. Khwaja Mahmud Da'ud, for his shortcoming with regard to the erection of the aforementioned gateway, was held for investigation.9

The mosque was modelled on the (no longer extant) mosque of the penultimate Mongol Ilkhan, Oljeitii, in Sultaniyya:10 Evidently it was not a very successful imitation, any more than Timur's empire was a convincing facsimile of that of the Mongols. The debilitating effect of the great Mongol example - it might not be going too far to call it an inferiority complex - is perhaps most vividly illustrated in an anecdote told by Clavijo, the Castilian ambassador who travelled to Timur's court at Samarqand at the very end of the reign. The story concerns Timur's son Miranshah, who had been appointed by his father as governor of Azarbaijan in north-west Persia. Miranshah, Clavijo tells us, after wreaking havoc in Tabriz, arrived at the city of Sultaniyya, which had been the last of the Mongol capitals of the Ilkhanate: Standing some distance outside the city is an immense [mosque and] palace of many apartments that was built in past times by a certain great 9 Sharaf al-Din 'Ali Yazdi, Zafar-nama, ed. Muhammad 'Abbasi (Tehran, AHS 1336), ii. 421: trans. Thackston, A Century of Princes, p. 90. 10 Sheila S. Blair and Jonathan M. Bloom, The Art and Architecture of Islam, 1250-1800 (New Haven/London, 1994), p. 40.

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lord, whose body was later buried here in a magnificent tomb. Miran Shah now gave command to have the whole of this edifice demolished and by his orders the body of the founder that lay buried there was forthwith thrown out lying on the ground to perish dishonoured. Some say the Prince did all these things by reason of the madness that had overtaken him: but according to another report he was heard at one time saying to himself: 'Forsooth I am the son of the greatest man in the whole world, what now can I do in these famous cities, that after my days I may be always remembered?' He therefore began to build, but soon came to note that nothing of what he built was better than what had already been built by others before him. Considering this he was heard to say: 'Shall nothing remain of me for a remembrance?' and added 'They shall at least remember me for some reason or other': and forthwith commanded that all those buildings of which we have spoken should be demolished, in order that men might say: that though Miran Shah forsooth could build nothing, he yet could pull down the finest buildings of the whole world.11

According to Clavijo, this was too much even for Timur. On hearing of his son's activities he hastened to Azarbaijan, deposed Miranshah and even considered having him executed. The building which so aroused Miranshah's jealousy was the magnificent mausoleum of the Ilkhan Oljeitii, which still 'survives as the most eloquent testimony to the fact that the Mongols could build as well as demolish'.12 On'his death in 1405, Timur 'left behind a political order which could not function without him'.13 He had attempted to divide his realm between his four sons and their descendants - surely a conscious imitation of Chinggis's division of his conquests between the lines of Jochi, Chaghatai, Ogedei and Tolui - and he had tried to prescribe who should succeed him. But his political system was so utterly dependent on Timur himself that it could not and did not survive him. There was a long and debilitating struggle between his descendants, from which his fourth and only surviving son, Shah Rukh - not Timur's own choice as his successor - ultimately emerged victorious over what was left of his father's conquests. Timur 'had given his dynasty sufficient power and charisma to maintain their rule, but when the question of the succession was finally decided, the realm his successors inherited was a smaller and poorer one.'14 The empire outlived its founder by a century, but that century was one of steady and inexorable contraction. This is in very sharp contrast indeed with the Timurid empire's supposed model. The death of Chinggis Khan was followed by no succession struggle - the founder's instructions on this matter were obeyed, and in any case the Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo, Embassy to Tamerlane, trans. Guy Le Strange (London, 1928), pp. 162-3. 12 David Morgan, The Mongols (Oxford, 1986), p. 171. 13 Manz, The Rise and Rule of Tamerlane, p. 145. 14 Ibid., p. 147. 11

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functioning of the Mongol Empire was in no way dependent on Chinggis himself: unlike Timur, he had been able and willing to delegate. Far from contracting or collapsing on Chinggis's death in 1227, his empire continued to expand for a further half century. So much for Timur. Gibbon was not far wrong about him. But what should be said about the Timurids, the descendants of the conqueror who presided for a hundred years over the dissolution of his empire? Here the situation is rather different: Timur has few apologists, but his descendants (though not usually Miranshah) have many. This is essentially on the basis of their much-lauded cultural achievements, which some have even sought to dignify with the term 'the Timurid Renaissance', though it is not clear what, if anything, was being reborn. As I once put it myself, the Timurid dynasty 'had got off to the worst possible start with the appalling career of Temur, but for all their internecine struggles, many of them had done much to atone for the destruction inflicted by their ancestor'.15 Since I wrote those words, the Timurids' cultural stock has risen even higher, as a result of a series of conferences, exhibitions and publications, of which the most spectacular is Thomas Lentz and Glenn Lowry's Timur and the Princely Vision.16 Nevertheless my assessment, let alone those of others who are more enthusiastic than I, now seems excessively generous. Judged by the highest relevant standards, those of the Mongols, most of the Timurids were singularly insignificant politically, though they were still haunted by the ghost of the unattainable Mongol ideal. If Timur had to some extent modelled himself on Chinggis Khan, Shah Rukh's exemplar was probably the Ilkhan Ghazan Khan (r. 1295-1304), who had taken the Mongols in Persia over to Islam and had attempted, through a series of administrative reforms, to undo the damage of the previous seven decades of Mongol rule. Shah Rukh, from his capital in Herat (he had moved the centre of the Timurid empire there from Samarqand), may well have seen himself as the restorer of Ghazan's Islamic Mongol state. Shah Rukh was noted for, on the one hand, bringing about a substantial shift in emphasis away from Mongol law and custom and towards Islamic law, and on the other, retaining much respect for the Mongol tradition, as had Ghazan himself. We may note that the non-Timurid rulers of Azarbaijan referred to Shah Rukh's government as 'Ilkhani', and that Shah Rukh himself used the title Padishah-i Islam, which had been regularly used of Ghazan, notably by his minister and historian Rashidal-Din.17 Morgan, Medieval Persia, p. 98. Thomas W. Lentz and Glenn D. Lowry, Timur and the Princely Vision: Persian Art and Culture in the Fifteenth Century (Los Angeles, 1989). 17 I owe these points on Shah Rukh and Ghazan Khan to Beatrice Forbes Manz, 'Mongol History, Rewritten and Relived', forthcoming. See also idem, 'Temur and the 15

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I am inclined to think that the Timurids tend to be overrated because of generalization from the artistic achievements which were brought about under their rule or patronage. Those achievements are not imaginary, though I suspect they are in some ways more apparent than real. In the field of architecture, I would suggest that they would not seem so superior to the Mongols were more Mongol buildings still extant: the Sultaniyya mausoleum, so immeasurably superior to anything the Timurids erected, is still there to warn us of the dangers of forming conclusions based on little more than the accidents of survival. Everyone who takes an interest in Persian art is taught to revere Timurid mosaic tilework, and to contrast it to its advantage especially with the painted tiles of the succeeding Safavid period. But here we have perhaps all been brainwashed, at an early and formative age, by reading that wonderful, immensely persuasive, but profoundly misleading book, Robert Byron's The Road to Oxiana. Timurid book painting has been widely extolled, and much of it is indeed quite attractive. But to my (admittedly inexpert) eye it seems singularly insipid when compared with what came before and after: the Mongol Demotte or the Safavid Houghton Shah-namas, for example. Historical writing under the Timurids has also been praised. Whatever its quality, what it undoubtedly does demonstrate is the Timurids' Mongol obsession, especially in relation to what was produced at the court of Shah Rukh at Herat.18 One might wish that the Timurid historians had chosen to emulate the straightforward and unadorned literary style of the greatest of the Ilkhanid historians, Rashid al-Din (d. 1318); but unfortunately they did not. Most notably, Hafiz Abru produced in Herat an edition and continuation of Rashid al-Din's Jami' al-tawarikh, and as Alexander Morton has shown,19 it was probably there, between about 1402 and 1420, that the volume of letters formerly attributed to Rashid al-Din (d. 1318) was concocted, for what reason remains obscure: but the Mongol shadow pervades all. Only in India, which was sufficiently distant from the Mongols in both space and time, did Timurid descent became prestigious enough in itself for the Mongol shackles to be thrown off. Yet even then, Babur was the founder of the Mughal Empire: 'Mughal' is simply the Persian version of the word 'Mongol'. And he was descended from both Problem of a Conqueror's Legacy', Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, 3rd series, 8 (1998), 21-41. My indebtedness, here and elsewhere, to Professor Manz's works should not be taken necessarily to imply her agreement with the views expressed in this essay. See John E. Woods, 'The Rise of Timurid Historiography', Journal of Near Eastern Studies, 46 (1987), 81-108. 19 Alexander H. Morton, 'The Letters of Rashid al-Din: Ilkhanid Fact or Timurid Fantasy?', in Reuven Amitai-Preiss and David Morgan (ed.), The Mongol Empire and its Legacy (Leiden, I999)> PP- 155-9918

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Chinggis Khan and Tamerlane: an unpromising pair of ancestors who seem, however, to have cancelled each other out, since Babur was so unusually humane and enlightened a ruler - or so he says.20 20

See Stephen F. Dale, 'Steppe Humanism: The Autobiographical Writings of Zahir al-Din Muhammad Babur (1483-1530)', International Journal of Middle Eastern Studies, 22 (1990), 37-585 and idem, 'The Legacy of the Timurids', Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, 3rd series, 8 (1998), 43-58.

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14 Brittany and the French Crown: The Legacy of the English Attack upon Fougeres (1449) C. D. TAYLOR During the late middle ages royal officials slowly extended the authority of the French crown at the expense of local privilege and independence. The English dukes of Aquitaine were the most famous opponents of the Capetian and Valois claims to sovereignty and resort, but the successful conclusion of the Hundred Years War did not put an end to challenges presented by other princes, particularly the dukes of Burgundy and Brittany. In the early 14605, Francis II, duke of Brittany, disputed Louis XI's regalian rights over the Breton bishoprics and also demanded the right to implement an independent foreign policy, or at least to be recognized as an ally rather than a subject of the French crown. On I October 1463 Louis had concluded the truce of Hesdin with the new Yorkist king of England, Edward IV, and, contrary to recent practice, the duchy of Brittany was not explicitly cited as a French ally. Duke Francis objected to this clear challenge to his independence; and the English certainly did not accept that Brittany was included within the truce if not explicitly named, and so continued to take military action against the subjects of the duke. Yet there was again no direct mention of the duchy when the truce was extended to maritime affairs on 12 April 1464. Clearly Louis's strategy was to circumscribe the duke's freedom to conduct an independent foreign policy, by assuming that Brittany was part of the French kingdom and hence automatically subject to any alliance or treaty contracted by the king. Unfortunately, the plan failed because Edward IV negotiated a separate alliance with Duke Francis II of Brittany and Charles count of Charolais, son of Philip of Burgundy, against Louis XI. Moreover, Edward's secret * My thanks to M. C. E. Jones, M. K. Jones, M. H. Keen, P. S. Lewis and J. L. Watts for their helpful comments on earlier drafts of this piece. All references to the treatise Pour ce que plusieurs are to Bibliotheque Nationale, manuscrit francais 5058, upon which my forthcoming edition will be based. An older edition appears in Pretensions des Anglois a la couronne de France, ed. R. Anstruther (London, 1847), pp. 1-117.

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marriage to Elizabeth Woodville pre-empted any chance of an AngloFrench match to cement an alliance with Louis.1 At the height of this crisis, an anonymous royal official, perhaps Guillaume Cousinot II, produced for other administrators and diplomats a comprehensive manual concerning the legal issues that had arisen during the Hundred Years War. This text, Pour ce que plusieurs., mainly updated the material presented by earlier officials like Jean de Montreuil and Jean Juvenal des Ursins. Yet there was one completely new section, addressing the responsibility for the breach of the Anglo-French truce in 1449: the author argued that the English had seized the Breton fortress of Fougeres as part of a devious plan to win over the duchy to their side and thus to sever the traditional sovereign and feudal bond between the French crown and the dukes of Brittany. Clearly such an account had enormous implications for the later debate over the place of the duke of Brittany in the Anglo-French truce of Hesdin of 1463: the official treatise emphasized that the duchy had always been subject to the alliances and agreements arranged by the French sovereign, while also demonstrating that the English could not be trusted after their nefarious actions in the 14405. Royal diplomats were thus armed with useful arguments for the negotiations with the Yorkists and the Bretons; Louis himself echoed the treatise when he commented, after Francis II had concluded a separate truce with the English, that 'est bien estrange . . . d'oir, car quelque guerre ou autre chose qu'il soit advenue par cy devant, jamais Breton ne seroit Angloys centre la couronne de France'.2 Thus there is certainly reason to be suspicious of the unusual evidence provided by Pour ce que plusieurs. Yet historians have consistently relied upon this treatise as a source for the strange events surrounding the capture of Fougeres in March I449-3 There is no other B.-A. Pocquet du Haut-Jusse, Francois II, due de Bretagne et I'Angkterre (1458-1488) (Paris, 1929)3 pp. 70-103; J. Calmette and G. Perinelle, Louis XI et Angleterre, 1461-1483 (Paris, 1930), pp. 55-9, and B.-A. Pocquet de Haut-Jusse, 'Une idee politique de Louis XI: la sujetion eclipse la vassalite', Revue historique, 216 (1961), 386-9; and see also C. L. Scofield, The Life and Reign of Edward the Fourth (2 vols, London, 1923), ii. 350-3, and M. H. A. Ballard, Anglo-Burgundian Relations, 1464-1472 (Univ. of Oxford, D.Phil, thesis, 1992), pp. 26-7. For the dispute over the Breton bishoprics, see P. Contamine, 'Methodes et instruments de travail de la diplomatic francaise. Louis XI et la regale des eveches bretons (1462-5)', in Des pouvoirs en France, 1300-1500 (Paris, 1992), pp. 147-67. 2 Calmette and Perinelle, Louis XI et Angleterre, 56-7. For the authorship of Pour ce que plusieurs, see my forthcoming edition, together with C. D. Taylor, 'Sir John Fortescue and the French Polemical Treatises of the Hundred Years War', EHR, 104 (1999), 112-29. 3 A. Bossuat, Perrinet Gressart et Francois de Surienne, agents de I'Angleterre (Paris, J 936), pp. 304-6; M. H. Keen and M. J. Daniel, 'English Diplomacy and the Sack of Fougeres in 1449', History, 59 (1974), 375~9i; M. G. A. Vale, Charles VII (London, 1974), 116-18. 1

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direct evidence that the enterprise was carried out in the hope that the duke would miraculously be won over to the English cause. Rather, the English wished to secure the release of Gilles de Bretagne, brother of Duke Francis, and thus seized Fougeres as a valuable property to exchange for him. When the French reacted with such hostility to the seizure, the English defended their action by a number of arguments, including the claim that Brittany was subject to the English king and thus should not be included in the truce. The later claim that Suffolk and Somerset had authorized the attack as part of a nefarious plot to sever the alliance between Duke Francis II and Charles VII has encouraged historians to view the enterprise as the high point of English deceit and trickery during the Hundred Years War: in reality it is an example of the confusion and lack of long-term strategic planning which characterized English foreign policy under Henry VI. After the duke of Burgundy was reconciled with Charles VII by the treaty of Arras in 1435, the English government had gradually recognized the need to reach a diplomatic solution to the war. In pursuit of this goal, English and French ambassadors agreed a truce at Tours in May 1444, together with the marriage of Henry VI and Margaret of Anjou. Yet there were a number of disputes which threatened the truce. Most importantly, Henry VI had promised to deliver Le Mans and Maine to the French, but the handover was delayed by the resistance of his subjects in France and took place only in March 1448, under the threat of military action by Charles. A second difficulty arose when some of the captains retiring from Maine occupied and fortified the fortresses of St James de Beuvron and Mortain on the Breton-Norman frontier, against the terms of the truce.4 The event which finally destroyed the delicate balance of the truce was the seizure of the Breton town of Fougeres on 24 March 1449 by an Aragonese mercenary captain, Francois de Surienne.5 The French were quick to point out the strong ties between Francois de Surienne and the English; on 29 June 1449, the French ambassadors described him as 'messire Francois Larragonnois, chevalier de lordre de la Jarretiere . . . conseiller et pensionnaire dudit prince nepveu, et soubz le gouvernement et lieutenance du dit haut et puissant prince, due de Somerset'. Surienne was indeed a member of Henry VTs Norman council, and was 4 R. A. Griffiths, The Reign of Henry VI: The Exercise of Royal Authority, 1422-1461 (London, 1981), pp. 483-510. 5 Fougeres, dep. d'Dle et Vilaine. The duke of Alencon had pledged the lordship of Fougeres to the duke of Brittany to raise money for his ransom after the battle of Verneuil 17 August 1424. The king ignored the petitions of Alenfon for help to recover the lordship, and the subsequent events surrounding the attack in 1449 merely served to reaffirm Brittany's title: Bossuat, Perrinet Gressart et Francois de Surienne, p. 313.

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appointed a knight of the Garter on 27 November 1447. Moreover, he received wages for his service on the council, the payment of a pension agreed in 1442, a sum of 100 livres at the time of his nomination to the order, and the discharge of his dues to the college of St George at Windsor, together with the castle and captaincy of Porchester.6 From the French point of view, this looked very much like advanced payment for the assault on Fougeres. They charged Somerset with complicity in the attack, citing both letters that he had written before the enterprise, acknowledging that Surienne was advancing towards the lower boundaries of Normandy, and the depositions of Englishmen captured at Saint-Aubin du Cormier who reported that the attack upon Fougeres had taken place with the consent of the duke. The French were also aware that Francois de Surienne had received reinforcements from the English garrisons in lower Normandy, particularly those of Avranches and Tomblaine.7 Thus when the English failed to resolve the situation, royal assemblies at Roches-Trenchelionon 17 July and on 31 July unanimously agreed that Charles VII was freed from any obligation to uphold the truce. On the second occasion, Guillaume Juvenal des Ursins informed the English ambassadors Jean 1'Enfant and Jean Cousin that Charles VII was formally declaring war on Henry VI. Within just over a year, the French had reconquered Normandy.8 Naturally the English involvement in the assault on Fougeres was cited as the principal justification for the decision to abandon the truce. In an open letter to the inhabitants of Normandy written in July 1449, Charles VTI argued that the English had broken the truce by making war on the duchy of Brittany and other places obedient to the king of France; French ambassadors told the duke of Burgundy that Charles wished to resume hostilities because it was the king's duty as sovereign lord to support the duke of Brittany against the English and 'le roy ne le peut ou doit habandonner'.9 On 31 July 1449, Guillaume Juvenal des Ursins told the English ambassadors that Charles had to act to protect 6 Narratives of the English Expulsion from Normandy, 1449-1450, ed. J. Stevenson, Rolls Series (London, 1863), pp. 441-2, and also pp. 415-16, 436-7, together with Letters and Papers Illustrative of the Wars of the English in France During the Reign of Henry VI, ed. J. Stevenson, Rolls Series, 2 vols in 3 (London, 1861-4), i. 249 and the letter sent by Charles VII to the king of Castile on 2 April 1451, in E. Cosneau, Le connetabk de Richemont (Arthur de Bretagne), 1393-1458 (Paris, 1886), pp. 619-20. In general see Bossuat, Perrinet Gressart et Francois de Surienne, pp. 313-15, and Keen and Daniel, 'English Diplomacy and the Sack of Fougeres', 377. 7 Narratives of the English Expulsion from Normandy, pp. 441-3, 449-50, 457-8, and Mathieu d'Escouchy, Chronique de Mathieu d'Escouchy, ed. G. du Fresne de Beaucourt (3 vols, Paris, 1863-4), iii. 225-42. 8 Chronique de Mathieu d'Escouchy, iii. 185-6, 245-51; Letters and Papers, i. 243-64. 9 Ordonnances des roys de France de la troisieme race, ed. E. de Lauriere, D. F. Secousse et al. (Paris, 1723-1849), xiv. 59-64; Letters and Papers, i. 264-73.

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his frontiers, his kin and his subjects: Somerset had refused to make reparation for the seizure of Fougeres, despite the article of the truce that required 'que chascune des parties estoient tenues fair reparer les attemptaz qui avendroient en ladicte treve, si tost qu'ilz vendroient a leur congnoissance'.10 A commission of enquiry held in Rouen at the end of 1449, together with Surienne's own deposition, written on 15 March 1450, provided conclusive proof of the involvement of the dukes of Suffolk and of Somerset in the plot.11 Jean Juvenal cited these materials three years later in Verba mea auribus percipe, domine., reporting that the English council and the dukes of Suffolk and Somerset had all approved of Surienne's plan to capture Fougeres; he explained the actions of Surienne by observing that the Breton town 'estoit 1'une des belles conquestes que on pourroit faire, et que par ce moyen il tendroit toute Brethaingne, Anjou, Le Maine en crainte et doubte'; and he placed the enterprise within the wider context of English attempts to break truces and treaties whenever it was to their advantage.12 Thus the French viewed the attack upon Fougeres as yet another example of English deceit and disregard for the truce. Fifteen years later the anonymous treatise Pour ce que plusieurs offered the new analysis of the attack upon Fougeres already noted. It reported that the English had captured Fougeres as part of a plot designed to 'attraire le due et la duche de Bretaigne a leur obeissance comme leurs subgez et loster hors de la main et de lobeissance du roy Charles qui estoit aincoires plusgrant entreprise et infration de treue xx. foiz que nestoit ladicte prise de Fougeres'. Thus the English sought to sever the traditional bond between the French crown and the duchy of Brittany which had existed since the time of King Clothair, grandson of Clovis: counts and dukes of Brittany had paid homage to French kings since the reign of Philip Augustus, but the English king wished to bring the duchy under his control.13 Given the context within which Pour ce que plusieurs was written, it is perhaps not surprising that, in the words of Andre Bossuat, 'Mieux qu'aucun autre document contemporain, ce memoire montre que la rupture des treves cut comme raison principale . . . la question de Bretagne'.14 The anonymous author certainly had access to official records: he cited the 'deposicion de messire Francois de Surienne dit 1'Arragonnois, Letters and Papers, i. 243-64; Chronique de Mathieu d'Escouchy, iii. 245-51. * Thomas Basin, Histoire des regnes de Charles VII et de Louis XI par Thomas Basin, ed. J. Quicherat (Paris, 1859), iv. 290-347. 12 Jean Juvenal des Ursins, Les ecrits politiques de Jean Juvenal des Ursins, ed. P. S. Lewis (3 vols, Paris, 1978-93), ii. 231-3, iii. 79; and see also Basin, Histoire des regnes de Charles VII et de Louis XI, iv. 295. 13 Pour ce que plusieurs, fos 521-541, 56r. 14 Bossuat, Perrinet Gressart et Francois de Surienne, p. 332. 10 1

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executeur de ladicte enterprise et de pluiseurs autres qui aidierent a icelle conduire', and he was also aware that the French ambassadors to the conferences in June and July 1449 had apostolic and imperial notaries produce written instruments of their negotiations with the English, perhaps indicating that he had either seen those documents or was even present when they were drawn up.15 Moreover, the author was aware of the complicated debate over ecclesiastical revenues during the diplomatic negotiations after the treaty of Tours and he also had detailed information about the personnel employed by both sides for embassies after the attack upon Fougeres.16 Yet he was by no means a dispassionate chronicler of events, as seen most clearly in his discussion of the Salic Law. Previous polemical writers like Jean de Montreuil, Jean Juvenal and Noel de Fribois had demonstrated at least some degree of care in the handling of this problematic authority, but the author of Pour ce que plusieurs felt no such concerns when propagating 'la contreverite par excellence': he gave an entirely fictitious report of a debate over the French succession between Edward III and Philip of Valois in 1328, reporting that the English king had conceded that the Salic Law overturned the Plantagenet claim to the French throne.17 Significantly the author employed exactly the same technique in his discussion of the attack upon Fougeres. He provided a detailed account of a meeting where Somerset's envoys supposedly argued that the capture of Fougeres was not an infraction of the truce because the duke of Brittany was a subject of the king of England, and that the action was carried out by friends of Gilles de Bretagne, who was being held prisoner by his brother, the duke, even though he was a liegeman of the king of England. In reality Jean 1'Enfant and Jean Hanneford did meet with Charles VII at Razilly on 23 April, but advised him to raise the matter of Fougeres directly with Henry VI because the matter was too important for Somerset to deal with on his own.18 At the core of the account offered by Pour ce que plusieurs was the claim that the attack upon Fougeres was an attempt to subvert the allegiance of the duke of Brittany, the culmination of a 'strategeme bien merveilleux' which began when the English falsely included the duchy Pour ce que plusieurs, fos 511 and 6or, perhaps drawing in part upon the collection of documents in BN, manuscrit francais 4054. Note that the treatise may well have been written by Guillaume Cousinot, an active agent in the diplomatic negotiations of the late 14405. See above, p. 244 n. 2. 16 Pour ce que plusieurs, fos 5iv, 56v and syv-sSr. 17 Pour ce que plusieurs, fos 4r-i2r. For the phrase 'la contre-verite par excellence', see K. Daly and R. E. Giesey, 'Noel de Fribois et la loi salique', Bibliotheque de I'Ecole des Charles, 91 (1993), 10. 18 Pour ce que plusieurs, fos 52r-v; Chronique de Mathieu d'Escouchy, iii. 231-3; Narratives of the English Expulsion from Normandy, pp. 420-4. 15

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amongst their allies in the prorogation of the truce by the treaty of Lavardin in March 1448: le patriarche de Poitiers et les autres commissaires de la part de France venissent enuiron minuit ou fons du fosse du Mans, ouquel lieu se troimerent semblablement les commissaires de la part des Anglois, et baillerent leur appointement dunepart et dautre sans chandeille ne regarder quil y auoit dedens, et incontinent les gens darmes entrerent dedens laditte place. Or est vray que lesdits commissaires de la part des Anglois en la treve quilz baillerent de leur part au dessceu et sans le consentement des commissaires de la part de France comprindrent le due de Bretaigne de leur part comme le roy de France lauoit compris de la sienne.

Thus the English emissaries took advantage of the darkness to hide the fact that they had included the duke of Brittany amongst their allies: 'Et soit bein notte ceste cautelle, car cest toute leur iustification de la prise deFougieres'.19 Yet this unique and unconfirmed story of a candlelight deception carefully ignored the genuine arguments that the English might use to justify their claims on the loyalty of the duke of Brittany. For over two hundred and fifty years the counts of Brittany had paid homage to the dukes of Normandy and thus were only the arriere-vassals of the king of France. The revival by Henry V and his son of the ancient English claim to the duchy of Normandy raised the possible further claim that the Bretons dukes owed a greater allegiance to the English kings than to those of France. Indeed, one of the English demands during the peace negotiations at Calais in 1439 was for Normandy together with the homage of Brittany.20 But perhaps more importantly., Henry VI could also claim sovereignty over the duchy in his capacity as king of France, thanks to the treaty of Troyes.21 Duke John V had ratified the treaty twice, first on 8 October 1422 and again on 3 July 1427. On the second occasion the Breton estates followed suit; there were over fifty oaths in support of the action from two of the sons of the duke, five bishops, Pour ce que plusieurs, fos 49v-5or. For the inclusion of Brittany as an English ally in the English copy of the prorogation, see Foedera, Conventiones, Litterae, ed. T. Rymer (10 vols, The Hague, 1739-45), V. i. 190, and below, p. 251 n. 26. 20 P. Jeulin, 'L'hommage de la Bretagne', Annales de Bretagne, 41 (1934), 411-18, and C. T. Allmand, 'The Anglo-French Negotiations at Calais in 1439', BIHR, 40 (1967), 23. For the French defence against such claims, see for example Jean de Monteuil, Opera, ed. N. Grevy-Pons, E. Ornato and G. Ouy (4 vols, Turin-Paris, 1963-86), ii. 94; Les ecrits politiques de Jean Juvenal, i. 207, 424, ii. 69-71, 133; Robert Blondel, Oeuvres de Robert Blondel, ed. A. Heron (2 vols, Rouen, 1891-3), i. 194, 354 (and also see pp. 169, 3I7)21 Jean 1'Enfant and Jean Cousin declared on 31 July 1449 that 'ledit Roy d'Angleterre ne reclamoit aucun droit audit duchie de Bretaigne a cause du Royaume d'Angleterre': Chronique de Mathieur d'Escouchy, iii. 249. 19

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seven chapters, thirty-four barons, lords and knights, as well as representatives of the towns of Quimper, Saint-Pol and Dol.22 The instructions given by the royal council to Somerset in October 1448 clearly demonstrate that these historical ties loomed large in the English memory. The council declared that if the Breton ambassadors would only meet with the English in the presence of the French, then: in this matiere consideration is to be had to the othes made by the Duke of Bretaigne that dede is, by his brethern, his soones, and by the barons and notable persones of his duchie to the King, as it appereth by thaire lettres patentes . . . from theffect of which . . . it nis not the Kings intent in any wise to departe or doe any thing that may be prejudiciall thereto.23

At the subsequent conference held at Vaudreuil on 15 November 1448, Adam Moleyns refused to negotiate with either the ambassadors of Brittany or Burgundy in the presence of the French: the Burgundians had committed themselves to the treaty of Troyes with even greater force than the Bretons, as demonstrated by the great efforts that they made in 1435 to justify their reconciliation with Charles VII. In the context of these debates, it is not surprising that Bishop Thomas Bekynton included copies of almost all the extant documents concerning the treaty of Troyes and the subsequent oaths in his collection of diplomatic documents, produced during the 14405.24 On 16 March 1446 Duke Francis I paid homage to the French king, thus forcing the English to reconsider the question of the allegiance of Brittany that they had studiously ignored during the negotiations for the truce of Tours.25 The next year, they stopped listing Brittany among the current French allies and actually included the duchy among their own allies in the copy of the prorogation of the truce at Lavardin, though 22

Charles VII gave a full pardon for all previous agreements between Duke Jean V and the king of England when Duke Francois paid homage on 16 March 1446: Memoires pour servir de preuves a I'histoire ecclesiastique et civile de Bretagne, ed. Dom Morice (Paris, 1742-6), ii, cols 1119-1120, 1125-8, 1135-7, 1200-2, 1400; P. Jeulin, 'L'hommage de la Bretagne', 444-5; A. La Borderie, Histoire de Bretagne, iv, 1364-1515 (Rennes, 1906), pp. 217-20. 23 Proceedings and Ordinances of the Privy Council, 1386-1542, ed. N. H. Nicholas (7 vols, London, 1834-7), vi. 63. 24 The French, Burgundians and Bretons at Vaudreuil replied that neither of the dukes owed homage to Henry VI but were rather the kinsmen, friends, vassals and subjects of the king of France: Memoires pour servir, ii, cols 1439-41; and for Bekynton's collections, see Bodleian Library, MS Bodley 885 and BL, MSS Cotton Tiberius B xii, Harley 861 and Harley 4763. 25 P. Jeulin, 'L'hommage de la Bretagne', 446-8. When the French diplomats cited the homage of 1446, the English claimed to know nothing of this and also observed that 'se le dit due de Bretaigne lavoit fait depuis les treves, ce ne devroit pourtant prejudicier au droit du roy, nostredit seigneur': Narratives of the English Expulsion from Normandy, p. 479-

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there is no contemporary report that this was done by the elaborate trickery reported by Pour ce que plusieurs.26 In August 1448 ambassadors sent from England to discuss the breaches of the truce naturally reinforced their arguments by citing the fact that the duke of Brittany was an English ally according to the prorogation of the truce in March of that year; Adam Moleyns observed that 'Britiannia, sub treuga dicti Principis Anglic tanquam de sua obedientia continebatur'.27 In the aftermath of the assault on Fougeres, the English ambassadors were scrambling to find any argument to defend this clear breach of the truce. Thus it is not surprising that during the negotiations at the Louviers conference in June and July 1449, the English ambassadors cited the debate over the status of Brittany from the previous year, arguing that Somerset could only accept a resolution of the matter that would not prejudice the question of the subjection of Brittany: any concessions on that matter would have to be approved by Henry VI.28 Thus the English did resurrect the claim to overlordship over Brittany from 1447 onwards. But their intention was less to force the duke of Brittany to return to their side than simply to use the confusion surrounding the status of Brittany in order to justify their repeated breaches of the truce. Indeed it is not quite clear how such an enterprise might have won over Duke Francis, especially since Somerset's attack on La Guerche in October 1443 had played an important role in persuading him to side with Charles VII in the truce at Tours.29 The French were certainly suspicious of English attempts to question the status of Brittany. Charles VII noted that Somerset considered 'le fait de mondit seigneur de Bretaigne tout different de celluy du Roy, que ce n'estoient que voyes exquises pour trouver maniere de lui fere perdre ledit monseigneur de Bretaigne et ses subgetz'. Similarly, in the statement read out to the English ambassadors on 31 July 1449, the French highlighted Somerset's refusal to negotiate upon the status of Brittany, and observed that 'seroit faire trop plus grant prejudice au roy [de France] que la restitucion de Fougieres ne lui pourroit prouffiter'.30 Yet the only other source beyond Pour ce que plusieurs to claim that the English seized Fougeres as part of a plot to win over the duke of Brittany was a French royal letter sent to the king of Castile and Leon in April 1451: the English were accused of making open war against the terms of the treaty with the intention 'de actraire et attribuer a eulx la Memoires pour servir, ii, col. 1399; Foedera, V. i. 133, 147, 151, 155, 168, 173. The Breton ambassador, Michel de Parthenay, replied that the duke 'esse comprehensum sub treuga dicti Franciae Regis christianissimi tanquam de sua obedientia suum subditum, vassallum et consanguinem': Memoirs pour servir, ii, cols 1430-5. 28 Narratives of the English Expulsion from Normandy, pp. 427, 431-2. 29 See below, p. 253 n. 38. 30 Chronique de Mathieu d'Escouchy, iii. 233; Letters and Papers, i. 256, 263. 26 27

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The Medieval State

subgection et obeissance de nostredict neveu de Bretaigne et de son pais et duche'.31 No other source claimed that the English actually staged the attack upon Fougeres to win the Bretons to their side. The enterprise against Fougeres was principally designed to secure the freedom of Gilles de Bretagne, the anglophile brother of Duke Francis II of Brittany, who had been arrested on 26 June 1446 for conspiring with the English and who remained in custody successively in Chateaubriant, Montcontour and finally La Hardouinaie, where he was murdered on the night of 24 April 1450.32 Gilles has been an important ally of the English during the negotiations of the early 14405, particularly as a counterweight to the developing amity between the duke and the French crown. Moreover, Gilles would have proved to be an even more valuable ally if he had gained control of the lands that he claimed from his brother or even become duke in his own right. Gilles had been lauded in the highest terms for his obedience, service and devotion to the English crown in the letters by which Henry VI granted him a pension in December 1443, and the Boke of Noblesse regarded the imprisonment of the 'noble and trew knight' Gilles as an insult and offence against Henry VI, comparable with other dishonourable French breaches of the truce. These French crimes included taking of youre shippis and marchaundises upon the see, keping men of noble birthe undre youre predecessoure obedience and divers other true lieges men prisoneris under arest, as that noble and trew knight ser Gillis the Duke is son of Bretaine . . . And also before the taking of Fugiers ser Simon Morhier knight. . . And sithen the lord Faucomberge take prisoner by subtile undew meanys of a cautel taken under safconduct of youre adversarie at Pountelarge . . . And also the said forteresse of Pountlarge take the said day be right undew meanys33

It is this sense of outrage that probably explains the attack upon Fougeres. From this perspective, Somerset was correct when he reassured Francois de Surienne that its taking would not dishonour the order of the Garter, but rather serve his king well.34 There is no evidence to suggest that the English were willing to commit military forces to help Gilles de Bretagne in his domestic strategies: during his interrogation on 10 January 1447, Tangui the bastard Cosneau, Le connetable de Richemont, p. 620. For the dealings of Gilles with the English, see La Borderie, Histoire de Bretagne, iv. 311-41; Bossuat, Perrinet Gressart et Francois de Surienne, 308-311; Keen and Daniel, 'English Diplomacy and the Sack of Fougeres', 378-9, 384-6. See also Memoires pour servir, ii, cols 1364, 1378-81, 1386-8, 1392, 1407-9. 33 Memoires pour servir, ii, col. 1364; The Boke of Noblesse, ed. J. G. Nichols (London, 1860), p. 5. 34 Letters and Papers, i. 284-5. 31

32

Brittany and the French Crown

253

testified that Gilles expected the English to provide him with an army of five or six thousand men with which to secure what was rightfully his within the duchy, but Tangui had not believed his friend.35 Yet the English friends of Gilles were certainly concerned about his safety. On 6 June 1446, Hoo and Roos reported that his residence at Le Guildo was not secure and offered to provide men to protect the prince; twenty-five soldiers were sent from Avranches to serve as his bodyguards, and when these men had to return to their normal duties, Gilles was offered elite troops, 'le nombre que votre plaisir est d'en avoir'. On 25 June 1446, William Roskill sent a warning to the prince to leave his home immediately because men at arms were plotting against him.36 Soon after the arrest of Gilles, Matthew Gough tried to employ Thomassin Duquesne, Surienne's escalade-master, to free the Breton prince. At the inquiry into the attack upon Fougeres, Pierre Tuvache and Jacquemin de Molineaux testified that Suffolk had initiated the enterprise in order to secure the release of Gilles: in May 1446, Surienne's agent Jean le Rousselet had travelled to London and there met with Suffolk, who plotted 'pour trouver moyen de recouvrer messire Gilles en prenant la place de Montaulban, pour ce que le seigneur de ladite place avoit ledit messire Gilles en garde, ou autre place par quoy on peust avoir ledit messire Gilles'; Rousselet told Tuvache that Surienne was to attack either Fougeres, Laval or Vitre in retaliation for the imprisonment of Gilles de Bretagne by his brother.37 The English clearly assumed that a smallscale attack on a Breton stronghold might be enough to push the duke into freeing Gilles, especially after Francis indicated, shortly before August 1448, that he would be prepared to release Gilles with the consent of Charles VII; after all, such actions were not unprecedented and appeared to pose a limited risk to the truce.38 Not surprisingly, the English preferred to conduct negotiations for the release of Gilles on an informal basis and regarded this matter as being separate from the discussion of the truce. No mention was made of Gilles when the English, French and Bretons met in August 1448 to Memoires pour servir, ii, cols 1407-9. Memoires pour servir, ii, cols 1401-4. 37 Letters and Papers, i. 280-1, and Basin, Histoire des regnes de Charles VII et de Louis XI, iv. 320-3. 38 John Beaufort, earl of Somerset (d. 1444), had led an attack into Brittany and captured La Guerche in October 1443, before the treaty of Tours; this had played a major role in persuading Duke Francis to take part in the treaty of Tours on the French side. Francois de Surienne had himself seized Dreux, a town on the border between Normandy and French-held territory, shortly before January 1448; this attack was not mentioned in any of the chronicles, presumably in part because the town had been regarded as impregnable, so that the subsequent defeat was particularly embarrassing: Cosneau, Le connetabk de Richemont, pp. 343-5; Bossuat, Perrinet Gressart et Franfois de Surienne, pp. 305-6. 35

36

254

The Medieval State

discuss outstanding issues between England and Brittany but the English did petition Charles VII to release Gilles on two more informal occasions during I448.39 Even in the aftermath of Fougeres, the release of Gilles de Bretagne was not a central issue for the English negotiators. Pour ce que plusieurs falsely reported that in May 1449 the English ambassadors to Charles VII demanded that Gilles be freed: le due de Bretaigne . . . auoit pris et tenoit prisonnier messire Gilles de Bretaigne son frere a tort et centre raison, et lequel messire Gilles estoit homme lige et vassal dudit roy dAngleterre, et ne voloit ledit due de Bretaigne deliurer icellui messire Gilles ne le rendre audit roy dAngleterre son souuerain seigneur, jasoit ce que par pluiseurs fois il en eust este somme et requis. Parquoy nestoit pas merueilles se les amis dudit messire Gilles auoient fait aucune entreprise sur ledit due de Bretaigne.40

In fact the English ambassadors never raised this issue except during the conferences in June and July 1449, when they called for 'la deliverance de messire Gilles de Bretaigne., qui est homme lige et subget du roy, nostredit seigneur'. This, the eighteenth article in the first written presentation by the English, seems to have been employed as just one of a list of French and Breton breaches of the truce. Significantly, the French negotiators declared that Charles VII desired good relations between the duke and his brother and would work to that end when the matter of Fougeres had been resolved.41 In retrospect the attack upon Fougeres was misjudged because the English had placed too much faith in the patience of both Charles VII and Duke Francis. Yet the enterprise had come very close to succeeding. Duke Francis sent Michel de Parthenay, constable of Rennes, to negotiate with Francois de Surienne, and according to testimony given at the inquiry held at Rouen, Parthenay is reported to have said 'On dit que vous 1'avez prise pour avoir messire Gilles. Qui vous le rendroit avec un bon pot de vin, seriez-vous content?' Intriguingly Surienne replied that 'J'ai pouvoir de prendre, et non de rendre', and the opportunity was missed.42 Nevertheless Francis did almost release Gilles in May 1449 on the orders of Charles VII. Arthur de Richemont and Guillaume de Rosnivinen persuaded the French king to allow his Memoires pour servir, ii, cols 1412-15, 1429-30. Pour ce que plusieurs, fos 52r-v, and see also 55r-v. 41 Narratives of the English Expulsion from Normandy., pp. 429-30, 474-6, 479-80. The English also cited the French seizure of Pont de 1'Arche, Conches and Gerberay, and the unjust imprisonment of certain Englishmen. 42 Basin, Histoire des regnes de Charles VII et de Louis XI, iv. 326. On 31 July 1449 the English ambassadors claimed that Surienne had not wished to accept Pathenay's offer 'sans premierement le notifier au Roy [Charles VII]': Chronique de Mathieu d'Escouchy, iii. 250. 39

40

Brittany and the French Crown

255

release, arguing that the Bretons were very moved by the misfortunes of Gilles and might cause problems if he were not set free, that Gilles had atoned for any error, and that his deliverance might facilitate the restitution of Fougeres by the English and so restore peace. In consequence Charles sent Pregent de Coetivy, admiral of France, to Brittany to secure the release of Gilles; the duke initially complied but at the very last minute, on 30 May 1449, countermanded the release of his brother.43 Somerset had refused to make reparation for the enterprise and so his intransigence, reminiscent of the position that had delayed the handover of Maine for so long, may have driven the French and Bretons to take a more hostile line: just two days later Pont de 1'Arche was taken by Jean de Breze, Robert de Flocques and Jacques de Clermont.44 As a result, the Bretons and the French now held important bargaining chips to exchange for Fougeres, particularly in view of their capture of Lord Fauconberge and their subsequent seizure of Conches and Gerberoy. Under these circumstances the last-minute decision to prevent the release of Gilles de Bretagne strengthened the French negotiating position still further. By the end of June Duke Francis and Charles VII had signed an offensive and defensive alliance, and the English were no longer in a position to influence events. Somerset's intransigence in the face of French protests is entirely explicable without reference to a plot to subvert the allegiance of the duke of Brittany. He argued that he did not have sufficient power to negotiate over Fougeres because of the problem of the status of Brittany. This was a notorious delaying tactic of the English ambassadors, contradicted by letters of Henry VI which declared that Somerset and the ambassadors in France had no need to refer back to either Henry or his council.45 Yet Somerset may well have been following royal orders when he claimed that he had no power to make reparation for the seizure of Fougeres. In October 1448, the duke had 43

Coetivy had himself benefited from the original imprisonment of Gilles, receiving the rights to his lordships when they were confiscated on royal orders in June 1446, and had also led the force which arrested the prince on 26 June 1446. We can only speculate as to what role the admiral of France may have played in Duke Francis's decision not to follow the royal instructions: Cosneau, Le connetabk de Richemont, p. 382; Keen and Daniel, 'English Diplomacy and the Sack of Fougeres', 119. 44 The captors cried 'Sainct Yves! Bretaigne', and, according to Blondel, would only speak in Breton. Clearly every effort was being made to make this attack appear the work of Breton supporters of the duke, rather than an official French assault which would represent a breach of the truce: Oeuvres de Robert Blondel, ii. 26-34. 45 The English had used this argument during the negotiations concerning the surrender of Le Mans and Maine, and the English fortification of St James de Beuvron, but in response to French protests, Henry VI had asserted the competence of his representatives to resolve any issue in contention: Chronique de Mathieu d'Escouchy, iii. 204-5, 230-1, together with Letters and Papers, i. 260.

256

The Medieval State

asked the royal council for instructions on the debate over the status of Brittany and was instructed to hold the duke of Brittany to the promises and oaths made by his father in support of the treaty of Troyes: if the Bretons refused to comply, then one course of action would be to refer the matter back to Henry VI. Inevitably, any concession regarding the subjection of Fougeres would prejudice these oaths and so Somerset was technically right to require the matter to be examined by Henry VI himself. But this angered the French and so imperilled the negotiations, against the express orders of the council: the debate over Brittany was secondary to the need to avoid 'any open troubling of the tretee to be had betwix thambassatours of both partys at this time'.46 The duke may have also been influenced by the specific question of financial reparation for the damage done to Fougeres. At the conferences held in June and July 1449, the French demanded that the English make full reparation for goods taken to the value of 'deux millions dor et plus'.47 The suspicion must be that the money and goods taken from Fougeres ended up in the hands of Somerset and the English administration in Normandy. After the capture of Rouen, the French wanted the chambre des comptes materials and carefully copied the receiver-general's accounts for Normandy between 1448 and 1449. These accounts not only demonstrated that Somerset had communicated with Francois de Surienne in May and June 1449, via the herald Mortain, but also showed the movement of large amounts of Breton money and gold from Carentan to Caen in May of the same year. Sir John Fastolf subsequently suggested that the royal council should 'demande au due de Somerset. . . combien il eut dargent de la prinse de Forgieres'. As Basin noted, Somerset's chief fault was his greed.48 Thus the French hostility towards the English, culminating in the declaration of war on 31 July 1449, is entirely explicable without reference to any supposed English plot to attract Brittany to the subjection of Henry VI: the English had repeatedly acted against the tenor of the truce and had obstructed all attempts to resolve difficulties by negotiation. But in the 14605, when the question of the loyalty of the duke of PPC, vi. 63-4. The council recognized that those on the spot 'shall mowe better feel how the principal matier shall mowe be kept out of rupture than it is possible to the King and my lordes here to feele'. 47 Narratives of the English Expulsion from Normandy, pp. 447, 496-7, 511-12. The financial losses suffered by the inhabitants of Fougeres led the duke of Brittany to exempt them from the 'taille, subside et autres subventions' on 12 December 1449: Memoires pour servir, ii. 1515-16. 48 BL, Add. MS 11509, fos 7Ov, 82r-v; Letters and Papers, ii: 2. 718-20. My thanks to Michael K. Jones for these references. For Basin's comment, see Thomas Basin, Histoire de Charles VII, ed. C. Samaran and H. de Surirey de Saint-Remy (2 vols, Paris, 1933-44), ii- 66, 69-75; and Basin, Histoire des regnes de Charles VII et de Louis XI, iv. 192-7. 46

Brittany and the French Crown

257

Brittany was again a matter of great importance for the French crown, Pour ce que plusieurs provided a highly dramatic and entertaining interpretation of the English actions in 1449. This account is so convincing that it has fundamentally shaped the way in which the affair has been regarded by historians. Keen and Daniel described the events surrounding the attack on Fougeres as a 'sorry tale of false hope, diplomatic dishonesty and military irresponsibility'.49 To a large degree these judgements must stand: the English failed to live up to both the spirit and the letter of the truce, tried to persuade the duke of Brittany to abandon his close relationship with the French Crown and staged an unwarranted assault on his territory. But in an effort to persuade Duke Francis II to accept further encroachments upon his independence, Pour ce que plusieurs developed the notion of a complex plot by the English to subvert French sovereignty. The skill of this anonymous author is amply demonstrated not only by his crucial role in the success of the myth of the Salic Law, but also by the continuing influence of the spin that he applied to the attack upon Fougeres, 'cette comedie des Anglais'.50 49 50

Keen and Daniel, 'English Diplomacy and the Sack of Fougeres', 390. La Borderie, Histoire de Bretagne, iv. 353.

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Index ^thelred, II, king of England, 85,87, 98 Alba, see Scotland Alfonso VI, king of Leon and Castile, 147-60 Alfred, king of Wessex, 9, 19-23, 28, 45, 84n., 88 Anglo-Saxon Chronick, 76, 80, 85, 88, 90, no, 113, 115-16, 167 Anglo-Saxons, 2, 16-45, 71, 73-91, 163, 166, 197 Anselm, St, 93-7, 103-7, n? Anti-Semitism, 163-77 Aquitaine, see Gascony Aragon, kingdom of, 152, 157, 160, 215 Athelstan, king of England, 22-4, 84, 101 Augustine of Canterbury, St, 18, 19, 21 Battle abbey, 81, 117, 120-22 Bayeux Tapestry, 73-91 Bede, 2, 16, 18, 26, 29-32, 37-8, 64, 99, 100-2 Benevento, duchy of, 11-15 Bishops, bishoprics, 3-10, 17-22, 27-9, 57, 69-70, 81-3, 93-107, 109, 112-18, 120-2, 129, 137-8, 140,

142,150,152-3,167-8,176, 223-5, 230, 243, 249-51 Bonney, Richard, 198-9 Bordeaux, 201, 206, 208, 213 Bretigny, treaty of, 198, 214 Bristol, 133, 173-4 Brittany, county and duchy of, 78, 190, 201, 205, 209, 215-31, 243-57 Bury St Edmunds, 137, 167-70 Calais, 200, 205, 211-12 Cambridge, 138-9

Campbell, James, xiii-xlii, 25, 47-8, 64, 93-4, 103, 127, 160-1, 163, 197, 232 Canterbury, city and see of, 17-19, 45, 93, 99, 101-2, 121, 133 Carolingians, 2, 6-10, 15, 127 Castile, kingdom of, 147, 152, 160, 251 Charlemagne, king and emperor, 6, 8, 85-6, 153-4 Charles the Bald, king and emperor, 2, 7,8 Charles VII, king of France, 244-8, 250-5 Charles de Blois, duke of Brittany, 215-32 Charters, English urban, 129-37, 139-43; Welsh, 181-96 Chester, county, earldom and palatinate of, 181-2, 186-7, 189-90, 200, 202, 210 Clovis I, king of the Franks, 4, 8, 9 Cnut, king of Denmark and England, 24, 84, 140 Coimbra, 158-9 Coinage, 12, 14, 29, 31, 34, 38, 42, 44, 47, 128, 140, 165, 175-6 Communes, urban, 130, 141, 143 Compostela, Santiago de, 147-8, 153 Councils, royal, 103-7, 109-12, 119, 123, 125-6, 245-8 Counsellors, royal, 109-26 Coventry, 129-133, 144 Currency, see Coinage Cuthbert, St, 16, 19, 22-4 Dagobert I, king of the Franks, 4-6, 15 Dalriada (Dal Riata), kingdom of, 25-6, 35, 37, 48-9, 52, 64

The Medieval State

26o

David I, king of Scots, 50, 62-3, 68 Davies, R.R., 179, 198 Deheubarth, principality of, 179-80, 184, 186, 190-3 Denis, St, 4-9, 15, 19 Denmark, kingdom of, 78, 84, 197 Domesday Book, 59, 84-5 Dunadd, 35, 37-9, 42 Dunstan, St, 24, 93, 96-100 Durham, city and see of, 129, 137 Eadmer, 93-107, 114 Earls, Scottish, 53, 55-61, 63, 70 English, see Chester; Gloucester Ecgfrith, king of Northumbria, 26, 28, 39 Edgar, king of England, 96-7 Edinburgh, 26, 28 Edmund I, king of England, 22-3 Edward the Elder, king of Wessex, 21-22, 84-5, 87

Edward the Confessor, king of England, 24, 84-5, 122 Edward I, king of England, 47, 131-2, 136, 141-2, 174-7, 184, I97> 2OO-8, 2IO-I2, 214

Edward II, king of England, 142, 204-5, 208-10, 214 Edward III, king of England, 132, 136, 138-9, 142, 197-8, 200-1, 203-13, 223-4, 248 Edward IV, king of England, 139, 143-4, 243-4 Edwin, king of Northumbria, 26, 39 Empire, emperors, Holy Roman, 84, 105, 128-9, i59> i?2 England, passim; see also Anglo-Saxons; Kent; Mercia; Northumbria; Wessex Estates, multiple, 51-6, 58, 63-5 France, French, i, 15, 19, 35, 43, 148, 157, 165, 169, 197-231^ 243-57 Frankia, Franks, 2-10, 15, 17 Freeman, E.A., 75-6, 78-80 Galicia, county of, 147, 153

Gascony, Aquitaine, 201-11, 213, 243 Genghis Khan (Chinggis), 234-9, 241 Germany, see Empire Gibbon, Edward, 233, 235, 239 Glamorgan, 184-6, 188-9 Gloucester, city of, 133, 169-70; earldom of, 181-2, 186-7,189-90, 194 Gold, 34-6, 39, 40, 42, 151, 160 Gransden, Antonia, 93, 99 Gregory I (the Great), pope, 3,17-23, 153 Gregory VII, pope, 105-6, 148, 158 Gregory XI, pope, 224-5 Gregory of Tours, 3-5 Gwynedd, principality of, 179-80, 184-96, 200 Harold II, king of England, 73, 76, 78-80, 83, 85-6 Hastings, battle of, 73-91 Henry I, king of England, 98, 109-26, 130, 140 Henry II, king of England, 115, 130, 141, 143, 171-35 i9i> i93> 208 Henry III, king of England, 131, 141, 171-4, 177, 180, 198, 202, 204 Henry IV, king of England, 134,143 Henry VI, king of England, 134,136, 143-4, 245-73 249-52, 255-6 Henry,VII, king of England, 137, 143-4 Henry of Huntingdon, 113-15, 125 Hincmar, archbishop, 8-10 Hollister, C.W., 81-2, 141 Hull, Kingston-upon-, 133, 136 Ireland, Irish, 32, 36-7, 39, 47, 200-4, 206-9, 212-13 Isidore of Seville, 153, 160 Italy, i, 3, 15, 19, 28, 134-5, 139 Jews, 139,163-77 John, king of England, 130, 139, 141, 143, 171, 173, 189, 203, 208 John IV, duke of Brittany, 216-32 Julius Caesar, 83, 90-1

Index

261

Kent, kingdom of, 20, 38, 45, 101

Nottingham, 133, 136

Leicester, 137, 140 Leon, city and kingdom of, 147-61, 251 Lincoln, city of, 131, 133-4, 136-7, 144, 170-1, 174-5, 177 Lindisfarne, 16, 19 Llywelyn ap Gruffudd, prince of Gwynedd, 180, 184-5, 190-1, 193-4 Llywelyn ap lorwerth (the Great), prince of Gwynedd, 180, 189, 191, 193 Lombards, 2, 10-15 London, city of, 19, 83, HI, 128-34, 136, 140-5; see also Westminster Louis Vi, king of France, 116-17, 123 Louis VII, king of France, 190, 192-3

Orderic Vitalis, 109, 112, 116-19, 122-3, 125-6 Ormrod, W.M., 198-9 Oswald, St, king of Northumbria, 17, 22, 25-6, 28, 31, 33, 39, 93, 96-7 Oswiu (Oswy), king of Northumbria, 25-6, 28, 37, 99, 100 Oxford, 138-9

Magna Carta, 130, 135, 172 Maitland, F.W., 127-8, 135 Malcolm II, king of Scots, 49, 50, 54, 62, 66-70 Malcolm III, king of Scots, 49-51, 59, 62-3, 67-8 Maldon, battle of, 86-8 Margam Abbey, 182-6, 189, 194-5 Martin of Tours, St, 3-9, 15, 16 Matilda, empress, 115, 117, 141-2, 144 Mayors, English, 130, 136, 141 Mercia, kingdom of, 17, 20, 25, 29, 30, 49 Merovingians, 2, 4-6, 9 Michael, archangel, 10-16, 19, 20 Mongol empire, 233-41 Monte Gargano, 10-15, I9> 2O Mormaers, 53-6, 59-63, 65, 67-9 Navarre, kingdom of, 156-7, 160 Norman Conquest of England, 73-91, 128, 130, 140, 166-7, J97 Normandy, Normans, 47, 49, 50, 80, 109, 116, 118-19, 122, 200, 212 Northumbria, kingdom of, 16-20, 25-45, 47, 63, 99 Norwich, city of, 128, 131, 133-4, 164, 166-72, 177

Papacy, popes, 3, 21, 94, 104-6, 148, 151, 215-17, 221-8; see also Gregory I; Gregory VII; Gregory XI Paris, 4, 5, 169 Treaty of, 198, 200, 207 Parliaments, English, 129, 131-2, 136, 139, 177, 202, 212 Paul the Deacon, 10, 12 Pavia, 10, 12 Peasants' Revolt, 139, 142 Peter, St, 3, 5, 16, 99, 105-6 Picts, Pictland, 26, 34, 41, 48-9, 57, 64-6, 99 Pilgrimage, pilgrims, 3, 6, 10, 12, 15, 152, 218; see also Saints, cult of Plantagenet empire, 197-214 Portugal, 152, 160 Powys, principality of, 179-80, 184-7, 192-3 Redwald, king of East Anglia, 25, 31 Remigius, St, 8-10 Reynolds, Susan, i, 2, 128,132 Rheged, kingdom of, 26, 35 Richard I, king of England, 130, 139, 171, 173 Richard II, king of England, 133, 136, 142-3,211 Robert Curthose, duke of Normandy, 106, 114, 116, 122 Rome, 6, 16, 94, 104; see also Papacy Saint-Denis, abbey of, 4-8, 112 Saints, cult of, 1-24, 166-74, T 77> 215-41

262

The Medieval State

Salisbury, 129, 137 Sallust, 153-5 Scotland, Scots, kingdom of, 26-8, 36-7, 47-71, 132, 182, 187, 190, 201, 203-8 Seville, 155, 160 Sheriffs, English, 128, 133, 135, 140 Silos, monastery of, 147-9 Silver, 31-2, 34, 40, 42 Soissons, 4, 7 Southampton, 133, 136 Southern, R.W., 93-4, 100, 103, 169 Spain, 147-61, 230 Spatz, Wilhelm, 76, 80, 87-90 Spoleto, duchy of, u, 13 Staple, 132, 139, 143 Stephen, king of England, 141, 171-2 Strata Marcella, abbey, 182-6, 194-6 Strathclyde, 26, 35, 48-9, 51, 63 Stubbs, William, no, 127 Tamerlane (Timur), emperor, 233-41 Taxation, tribute, i, 37-8, 45, 51-5, 71, 119, 128, 132, 134-6, 139-45, 173, 175, 198-214 Thanes, manages, Scotish, 53-6, 58-64, 67,70 Theodore of Tarsus, archbishop of Canterbury, 17-19, 99, 101-3 Timurid empire, 233-41 Toledo, 147-8, 152-3, 156, 159-60 Tours, see Gregory; Martin Towns, English, 44, 127-45 Trade, commerce, 33-45, 127, 136, 139, 143, 199, 201 Tribal Hidage, 29, 30, 83

Universities, English, 138-9 Vikings, 8, 48, 56, 80, 84-5 Visigoths, kingdom of, 2, 147, 153-7 Wace, 79, 81-2 Wales, Welsh, 47, 168, 179-96, 200-8, 210 Weinbaum, Martin, 127, I33n. Wessex, West Saxons, kingdom of, 19-31,40-45,49,127-8 Westminster, 47, 137, 144, 201, 208-11, 213 Whitby, 18, 21, 33 Whithorn, 26-7, 37-9 Wilfrid, St, 26, 28-9, 31, 93, 96-7, 99, 100-3, 105 William I duke of Normandy and king of England, 73, 78, 80-3, 85, 90-1, 94, 106, 128-9 139, 140 William II (Rufus), king of England, 94-5, 103, 107 William of Jumieges, 78, 81-3, 90-1 William of Malmesbury, 101, 122,160, 169 William of Norwich, 166-72 William of Poitiers, 73, 76, 78, 82-3, 87,90 Winchester, 23, 112, 120 Worcester, see and monastery of, 18, 20, 21, 23, 170 Yeavering, 32, 39 York, cathedral and see of, 18, 19, 29, 31, 44,93,97,99,H2; city of, 131, 133-4, 137, 140, H4