When Rollo and his brave companions, emigrating from Northern Europe at the end of the ninth century, got a firm hold of Rouen and the surrounding district, they were as far from being satisfied us ever. They ravaged every part of France, carrying their arms even into Burgundy. Charles the Simple, who had already yielded Normandy to them, harrassed by these unceasing hostilities, sought to purchase peace by the cession of another portion of his dominions. He offered Rollo the land between the river Epte and Brittany, if he would become a Christian and live in peace; but, though Charles threw his daughter into the scale, Rollo would not agree, for the territory was too small, and the lands uncultivated. He next offered him Flanders, which, by the way, was not his to give; but Rollo rejected it because it was boggy and full of marshes. He then offered him Brittany, which Rollo accepted.[51] Brittany, however, claimed to be a free state, and its inhabitants were a spirited and energetic race, not likely to yield allegiance where none was due. In accepting Brittany, therefore, Rollo obtained little better than an old quarrel. Continual wars, and a national enmity, between the states, was the only result of the gift.

We can here scarcely help observing by what a rare conjunction of circumstances it was that William, who from his boyhood had been at war with all the neighbouring states, and who a few months before the invasion of England, was engaged in active hostilities with the Count of Brittany, had leisure to undertake the great event of his life, could leave his duchy and drain it of his troops, without being exposed to the devastations of angry neighbours, and, not only so, but could obtain for his great enterprise the powerful assistance of those rival chiefs with whom he had so often been at variance, not even excepting the Counts of Ponthieu and Brittany. The most careless observer cannot but mark in this the finger of Providence.

But to return to our worsted work. Conan Earl of Bretagne being at this juncture at war with Duke William, and having drawn the Earl of Anjou into alliance with him, the two naturally agreed upon a given day to invade Normandy with their united forces. The Duke was however too much upon his guard, and too lively, to wait for them in his own dominions. He raised a considerable body of troops; and, knowing Harold to be a brave soldier, and fond of showing his valour, invited him and his companions to go with him upon this expedition; which Harold readily agreed to do. This was a clever stroke of policy. He not only procured the valuable assistance of Harold and his companions, all

the more valuable in consequence of the experience they had gained in Wales, but obtained ample opportunities of studying the character of the man whom he could not but look upon as his great rival. He had the means, in their lengthened intercourse, of showing him great attentions, and thus of apparently laying him under great obligations. But, above all, he induced Harold by this step to excite the enmity of the men of Brittany against himself. That William should make war upon them was no more than the custom of the country, but what right had the Saxon to interfere in their affairs? They could not, and did not, forget this on the field of Hastings.

The campaign in Brittany is described more fully in the Tapestry than in any of the chronicles, and some events are there depicted, such as the surrender of Dinan, which are not mentioned in any of them. William and his party setting out upon their expedition (Plate V.) pass the neighbourhood of Mount St. Michael. The inscription is, HIC WILLEM DUX ET EXERCITUS EJUS VENERUNT AD MONTEM MICHAELIS—Here Duke William and his army came to Mount St. Michael. This mount consists of a solitary cone of granite rising out of a wide, level expanse of sand, which at high tide is nearly covered by the sea. It is a very conspicuous object, and is seen on all sides from a great distance. A little to the south of St. Michael’s Mount, the river CoËsnon, which forms the boundary between Normandy and Brittany, joins the sea. At this point the waters of the ocean, in consequence of the contracting boundaries of the bay lying between Brest and Cape la Hogue, rise with great impetuosity and to a great height. The fording of the river, therefore, in the vicinity of the sea is often a hazardous undertaking. To add to the difficulties of travellers, the sand which covers the plain around St. Michael’s Mount, and extends some distance inland and along the bed of the river, is an exceedingly fine, white, marly dust, which, when covered with water, affords most treacherous footing. The beds of sand, moreover, frequently shift according to the varying currents of the tide, so that even a well accustomed traveller may get wrong. These statements have prepared us for the disasters which befel the party in crossing into Brittany. The legend here is, ET HIC TRANSIERUNT FLUMEN COSNONIS—And here they crossed the river CoËsnon—Most of the group, mistrusting the treacherous ford, have dismounted. One individual more venturesome than the rest reaps the consequences of his rashness. All those on foot do not, however, entirely escape. Harold is represented rescuing two of them from their difficulties; one he bears upon his back, the other he drags by the hand. The inscription is—HIC HAROLD DUX TRAHEBAT EOS DE ARENA—Here Harold the Earl dragged them out of the quicksand.

The fishes and the eels in the lower border are an appropriate ornament. The draftsman has here indulged in a little play of fancy. A man, with knife in hand, in trying to catch one of the eels, tumbles; his toe is caught by a wolf, whose tail is in turn seized by an eagle, and so the chapter of accidents proceeds.

The difficulty of the ford being got over, our party continued their march towards Dol, which is here represented by a castle. The inscription is, ET VENERUNT AD DOL—And they came to Dol. The present town of Dol is a remarkable place, bearing thoroughly the aspect of ancient days. Its walls are tolerably perfect. However antique its walls and houses, its market presents us with traces of an antiquity greatly exceeding theirs. Large quantities of pottery, resembling in form and substance the commoner kinds used by the Romans, are here exposed for sale. It is curious to see Roman taste, as exhibited in such fragile articles, outliving the lapse of so many centuries.

As has been already stated, Conan intended to invade William, who, however, anticipated him. The Duke moreover came upon him unexpectedly, and found him engaged in settling a private quarrel with Rual, to whom the seigneury of the city of Dol belonged. The moment the forces of William made their appearance before the gates of Dol, Conan was constrained to flee, and take refuge in Rennes, the capital of Brittany. His army is represented in the Tapestry as fleeing to the city, pursued by the troops of the Norman Duke. Over this scene is the legend, ET CONAN FUGA VERTIT—And Conan betakes himself to flight.

Rual, the lord of Dol, was but little benefited by the retreat of Conan. William’s forces scoured the country, and supplied their own wants at the expense of the inhabitants. Rual very politely thanked William for his deliverance, but hinted that if his army continued making such depredations everywhere, it was the same to him whether his country was ruined by Bretons or Normans. William issued orders prohibiting further devastation. A man is seen in the Tapestry letting himself down by a cord from the battlements of the castle; this, it has been conjectured, is the messenger sent to Duke William. A castle represents the city of Rennes, over which is inscribed the word REDNES.

We next meet with the town of Dinan. The inscription reads, HIC MILITES WILLELMI DUCIS PUGNANT CONTRA DINANTES—Here the soldiers of William attack Dinan. The place is undergoing all the calamities of a siege. Some of William’s party are assailing it, but their onset is met by the exertions of the garrison. Others apply flames to the structure. We learn from the Tapestry that the castle was obliged to yield, and we see that the act of surrender is conducted in a very formal manner (Plate VI). An inhabitant of the town, probably Conan himself, (ET CUNAN CLAVES PORREXIT—And Conan reached out the keys) is seen handing out the keys upon a lance, and they are received in a similar way by one of the chiefs of the attacking party. Both spears are adorned with a pennon or banner.[52] As we have no account of this siege in the chronicles, we can only gather its history from the stitches before us. Most likely William was satisfied with the formal submission of Conan, and quietly withdrew his forces. We do not in the Tapestry observe any of the invading troops entering the town.

Before proceeding further, we may notice some of the prominent

features of the castles which have been presented to our view. All of them are built upon elevated mounds. This was certainly one of the characteristics of an early Norman fortress. Further, we see that they were surrounded by a fosse, the section of which, in the Tapestry, is very boldly marked. In the case of Dinan, we have a barricade on the outside of this entrenchment. Besides these outworks, the castles consist of an outer fortification, or bailey, and of an interior building, or keep. The colouring of these structures may be purely fanciful, but I am disposed to think that the vertical stripes which we see upon some of them represent timber. The remains of some castles in Cornwall incontestably prove that, occasionally at least, the outside of the walls was braced with timber.[53] The walls of Guildford Castle are pierced with holes, which we are told were made for the scaffolding, and in order to hasten the drying of the mortar were left unfilled, and have since remained so. Is it not more likely that these cavities were formerly occupied by bolts for fastening an outside timber-casing to the walls?

But to proceed with Queen Matilda’s narrative. The campaign in Brittany being brought to a satisfactory conclusion, the honours of knighthood awaited the Saxon Earl. William himself confers upon him the envied dignity. The superscription is HIC WILELMUS DEDIT HAROLDO ARMA—Here William gave arms to Harold. Both parties are shown in the Tapestry armed cap-a-pie. Harold holds in his hand the banner which, by virtue of the rank now bestowed upon him, he is entitled to bear. William is seen placing with one hand the helmet on Harold’s head, and with the other bracing the straps of his hauberk.

The Norman Duke, in conferring the honour of knighthood upon his adopted son in arms, doubtless exhorted him to fight valiantly in the cause of God and the ladies, and especially to bear himself gallantly against any one who should disparage the beauty of that one lady to whom he had plighted his troth. In this way William strengthened the meshes which he had already cast over Harold.

It has been noticed that the mode of conferring knighthood used on this occasion is a compromise between the Norman and Saxon methods. Ingulphus tells us that the ministrations of a priest were required when knighthood was conferred among the Saxons, but that the Normans regarded it entirely as a military ceremony.[54] Further, whilst the Normans, whose military strength lay in cavalry, performed the ceremony on horseback, the Saxons, who had no cavalry, always performed it on foot. In the case before us the ceremony is performed on foot, but without the agency of a priest. According to Wace, the ceremony of knighthood took place before the commencement of the campaign in Brittany. This is one of those variations which prove the independence of each authority.

William and Harold, who had been sojourning so long together, fighting side by side, living in the same tent, eating at the same board, now came to Bayeux (WILLELMVS VENIT BAGIAS—William came to Bayeux), and here the Saxon Earl came under that obligation the breach of which filled men’s minds with horror and indignation. William could not but be aware that Harold intended to seize the crown of England on the death of the Confessor; he resolved therefore to avail himself of the present opportunity of throwing as many obstacles in his path as possible. Considering that Harold had come over professedly to announce to William that he was to be the successor to the Confessor, considering the very friendly terms on which they had now for some time been, and the very great obligations under which the Norman Duke had laid him, he could not refuse to take the oath. He no doubt felt, moreover, that he was in William’s power, and knew full well that unless he complied with his demand he would not be allowed to return to his native shores. He therefore swore to support his rival’s claims to the English throne. As the perjury of Harold was one of the pleas most successfully urged by William against his opponent, it invites our careful attention. Our faithful chronicler Wace gives us a full account of the transaction.—

“To receive the oath William caused a parliament to be called. It is commonly said that it was at Bayeux that he had his great council assembled. He sent for all the holy bodies thither, and put so many of them together as to fill a whole chest, and then covered them with a pall; but Harold neither saw them, nor knew of their being there; for nought was shown or told him about it; and over all was a philactery, the best that he could select.... When Harold placed his hand upon it, the hand trembled and the flesh quivered; but he swore and promised upon his oath to take Ele to wife, and to deliver up England to the Duke; and thereunto to do all in his power, according to his might and wit, after the death of Edward, if he should live, so help him God and the holy relics there! Many cried ‘God grant it!’ and when Harold had kissed the saints and had risen upon his feet, the Duke led him up to the chest and made him stand near it, and took off the chest the pall that had covered it, and showed Harold upon what holy relics he had sworn; he was sorely alarmed at the sight.”[55]

In this account there is a little inconsistency. We are told of Harold’s amazement when he had seen the relics, but we were previously informed that when he first placed his hand upon the chest “the hand trembled and the flesh quivered.” If he did not know that dead men’s bones were under the pall he must have suspected it; he must have known that this was the customary mode of taking an oath.[56]

In the Tapestry, Harold stands between two objects. One of them is a reliquary of the usual form, to which two staves are attached for the purpose of carriage. This reliquary has, however, a superaltare attached to it, such as is usually placed upon altars for the purpose of containing the consecrated wafer. The other object is an altar of the usual form and character. There does not seem to have been much temptation to William to practise a trick upon Harold, for he had so completely committed himself to the Duke that he could not avoid taking the oath, even though no covering had concealed the bones. But whether William did or did not practise this base artifice upon the Earl, it was natural that the Tapestry, being the work of Matilda, should endeavour to throw a veil over it. He is certainly in the Tapestry exhibited as swearing by the relics in the chest and by the host upon the altar, and he evidently touches them as if he knew they contained something very dreadful—he could not approach red-hot iron much more charily. We can readily conceive that after the ceremony William, by way of making as lively an impression as possible upon the mind of his victim, displayed the bones to him in all their sepulchral hideousness, and told them out in full tale before him. In such a case Harold might readily shrink from the exhibition, and be surprised at the number of martyrs which William’s diligence had brought together. William was too brave a man to attempt the mean artifice which historians ascribe to him. Harold never accused him of it. When reminded before the battle of Hastings, by a messenger of the Duke’s, of the oath he had taken, he sent this answer back, “Say to the Duke that I desire he will not remind me of my covenant nor of my oath; if I ever foolishly made it and promised him any thing, I did it for my liberty. I swore in order to get my freedom; whatever he asked I agreed to; and I ought not to be reproached, for I did nothing of my own free will.”[57]

But after all, this oath of Harold’s was not in the estimation of the men of that day the serious thing that has been represented. Men whom an oath taken in the name and in the presence of the living God could not bind, were not to be restrained by any moral influence. A little ingenuity only was requisite to release a man from an oath taken upon the relics. In the Roman de Rou we have a case in point.[58] At Val de Dunes the rebel lords of Normandy appeared in arms against the Duke. Before the opposing hosts joined, Raol Tesson, who was arrayed against William, was seen to act with hesitancy. His men besought him not to make war upon his lawful lord, whatever he did, reminding him that the man who would fight against his lord had no right to fief or barony. Raol could understand this argument, but what was he to do? he “had pledged himself, and sworn upon the saints at Bayeux to smite William wherever he should find him.” The difficulty was however got over. Ordering his men to rest where they were, “he came spurring over the plain, struck his lord with his glove, and said laughingly to him, ‘What I have sworn to do that I perform; I had sworn to smite you as soon as I should find you; and as I would not perjure myself, I have now struck you to acquit myself of my oath, and henceforth I will do you no farther wrong or felony.’ Then the Duke said, ‘Thanks to thee!’ and Raol thereupon went on his way back to his men.” Success attended the side which Raol thus espoused, and we hear nothing of his perjury. Harold fell on the hard-fought field of Hastings, and heaven and earth resounded with cries of horror at the foul sin. Had he won, a new abbey, or the re-imposition of Peter’s pence, would have cleared off the score.

Harold was now permitted to return home. The ship in which he sailed is represented in the Tapestry. Over the scene is the inscription, HIC HAROLD DUX REVERSUS EST AD ANGLICAM TERRAM—Here Harold the Earl returned to England. His approach to the shore is anxiously looked for by a watchman on the top of the gate-tower of his palace at Bosham. On reaching the land of his nativity Harold lost no time in repairing to court—ET VENIT AD EDWARDVM REGEM—And came to Edward the King. At the beginning of Plate VII. we see him in the presence of his sovereign, who reprimands him, as we have already observed (p. 28), for the miscarriage of his Commission.