Part 1
E-text prepared by Mark C. Orton, Steven Gibbs, Rory OConor, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed between curly brackets was Greek in the original and has been transliterated into Latin characters.
THE LIVES OF THE III. NORMANS, _KINGS OF_ ENGLAND:
WILLIAM the first. WILLIAM the second. HENRIE the first.
Written by I. H.
MART. _Improbe facit qui in alieno libro ingeniosus est._
IMPRINTED AT LONDON BY _R.B._ _ANNO 1613._
TO THE HIGH AND MIGHTIE PRINCE _CHARLES_ _Prince of Wales._
MOST _Illustrious_ PRINCE:
Ovr late, too late borne, or too soone _dying Prince, HENRY of famous memorie, your deceased brother, sent for mee, a few monethes before his death. And at my second comming to his presence, among some other speeches, hee complained much of our Histories of England; and that the English Nation, which is inferiour to none in Honourable actions, should be surpassed by all, in leauing the memorie of them to posteritie. For this cause hee blamed the negligence of former ages: as if they were ignorant of their owne deseruings, as if they esteemed themselues vnworthie of their worth._
_I answered, that I conceiued these causes hereof; One, that men of sufficiencie were otherwise employed; either in publicke affaires, or in wrestling with the world, for maintenance or encrease of their priuate estates. Another is, for that men might safely write of others in a tale, but in maner of a History, safely they could not: because, albeit they should write of men long since dead, and whose posteritie is cleane worne out; yet some aliue, finding themselues foule in those vices, which they see obserued, reproued, condemned in others; their guiltinesse maketh them apt to conceiue, that whatsoeuer the words are, the finger pointeth onely at them. The last is, for that the Argument of our English historie hath bene so soiled heretofore by some vnworthie writers, that men of qualitie may esteeme themselues discredited by dealing in it._
_And is not this (said he) an errour in vs, to permit euery man to be a writer of Historie? Is it not an errour to be so curious in other matters, and so carelesse in this? We make choise of the most skilfull workemen to draw or carue the portraiture of our faces, and shall euery artlesse Pensell delineate the disposition of our minds? Our apparell must be wrought by the best Artificers, and no soile must be suffered to fall vpon it: and shall our actions, shall our conditions be described by euery bungling hand? Shall euery filthie finger defile our reputation? Shall our Honour be basely buried in the drosse of rude and absurd writings? Wee are carefull to prouide costly Sepulchers, to preserue our dead liues, to preserue some memorie what wee haue bene: but there is no monument, either so durable, or so largely extending, or so liuely and faire, as that which is framed by a fortunate penne; the memory of the greatest Monuments had long since perished, had it not bene preserued by this meanes._
_To this I added; that I did alwayes conceiue, that we should make our reckoning of three sorts of life: the short life of nature, the long life of fame, and the eternall life of glorie. The life of glorie is so farre esteemed before the other two, as grace is predominant in vs: the life of fame before our naturall life is so farre esteemed, as a generous spirit surmounteth sensualitie; as humane nature ouerruleth brutish disposition. So farre as the noble nature of man hath dominion in our minds, so farre do we contemne, either the incommodities, or dangers, or life of our body, in regard of our reputation and fame. Now seeing this life of fame is both preserued and enlarged chiefly by history; there is no man (I suppose) that will either resist, or not assist, the commendable or at least tolerable writing thereof, but such as are conscious to themselues, either that no good, or that nothing but ill, can bee reported of them. In whom notwithstanding it is an errour to thinke, that any power of the present time, can either extinguish or obscure the memorie of times succeeding. Posteritie will giue to euery man his due: Some ages hereafter will affoord those, who will report vnpartially of all._
_Then he questioned whether I had wrote any part of our English Historie, other then that which had been published; which at that time he had in his hands. I answered, that I had wrote of certaine of our English Kings, by way of a briefe description of their liues: but for historie, I did principally bend, and binde my selfe to the times wherein I should liue; in which my owne obseruations might somewhat direct me: but as well in the one as in the other I had at that time perfected nothing._
_To this he said; that in regard of the honour of the time, hee liked well of the last; but for his owne instruction, he more desired the first: that he desired nothing more then to know the actions of his Auncestours; because hee did so farre esteeme his descent from them, as he approached neere them in honourable endeauours. Hereupon, beautifying his face with a sober smile, he desired mee, that against his returne from the progresse then at hand, I would perfect somewhat of both sorts for him, which he promised amply to requite; and was well knowen to be one who esteemed his word aboue ordinary respects. This stirred in mee, not onely a will, but power to perfourme; so as engaging my duety farre aboue the measure either of my leisure or of my strength, I finished the liues of these three Kings of Norman race, and certaine yeeres of Queene ELIZABETHS Reigne._
_At his returne from the Progresse to his house at S. Iames, these pieces were deliuered vnto him; which hee did not onely courteously, but ioyfully accept. And because this seemed a perfect worke, he expressed a desire that it should be published. Not long after he died; and with him died both my endeauours and my hopes. His death, alasse! hath bound the liues of many vnto death, face to face; being no wayes able, either by forgetfulnesse to couer their griefe, or to diminish it with consideration._
_For in trueth he was a Prince of a most Heroical heart: Free from many vices which sometimes accompanie high estates, full of most amiable and admirable vertues: of whose perfections the world was not worthy. His eyes were full of pleasant modestie; his countenance manly beautifull; in bodie both strongly and delicately made; in behauiour sweetely sober, which gaue grace to whatsoeuer he did. He was of a discerning wit; and for the facultie of his mind, of great capacitie and power, accompanied with equall expedition of will: much foreseeing in his actions, and for passions a commander of himselfe; and of good strength to resist the power of prosperitie. In counsaile he was ripe and measured, in resolution constant, his word euer led by his thought, and followed by his deede. And albeit hee was but yong and his nature forward and free, yet his wisedome reduced both to a true temper of moderation; his desires being neuer aboue his reason, nor his hopes inferiour to his desires. In a word, hee was the most faire fruit of his Progenitours, an excellent ornament of the present age, a true mirrour to posteritie: being so equally both setled to valour, and disposed to goodnesse and Iustice, as hee expressed not onely tokens, but proofes, both of a courage, and of a grauitie and industrie right worthie of his estate._
_Glorious Prince, my loue and duety hath caried me further, then happily is fit for the present purpose: and yet this is but an earnest onely of my earnest affection and zeale to thy Honour. I shall hereafter haue a more proper place to display at large, the goodlinesse of thy shape, the goodnesse of thy nature, the greatnesse of thy minde: all thy perfections, whereby our affections were much enflamed. And euillworthy may he be of any happy hopes, who will not adde one blast of his breath, to make vp the glorious gale of thy fame._
_In the meane time I haue here accomplished his desire in publishing this worke: More to testifie to the world the height of his heart, then for any pleasure I haue to set foorth any thing, to the view of these both captious and vnthankefull times; wherein men will be, not readers onely, but interpreters, but wresters, but corrupters and deprauers of that which they reade; wherein men thinke the reproofe of others, to be the greatest parcell of their owne praise. But how should I expect any better vsage? The Commentaries of Caesar, neuer disliked before, are esteemed by Lypsius, a dry saplesse piece of writing. The most famous Tacitus is tearmed by Alceate, [1]a thicket of thornes; by Budaeus, [2]a most lewd Writer; by Tertullian, [3]an exceeding lyar; by Orosius, [4]a flatterer; then which assuredly he is nothing lesse. I will not expect any better vsage, I will not desire it; I will hereafter esteeme nothing of any worth, which hath not many to detract from it._
_Whatsoeuer this is, I haue presumed to present it to your Highnesse, for these causes following: First, for that it receiued this being from him, who was most dearely esteemed by you; who may be iustly proposed, as an example of vertue, as a guide to glory and fame. Secondly, for that the persons of whom it treateth, are those most worthy Ancestors of yours, who laid the foundation of this English Empire; who were eminent among all the Princes of their times, and happely for many ages after, as well in actions of Peace as of Warre. Lastly, for that I esteeme Histories the fittest subiect for your Highnesse reading: For by diligent perusing the actes of great men, by considering all the circumstances of them, by comparing Counsailes and meanes with euents; a man may seeme to haue liued in all ages, to haue beene present at all enterprises; to be more strongly confirmed in Iudgement, to haue attained a greater experience, then the longest life can possibly affoord._
_But because many errours doe vsually arise, by ignorance of the State wherein we liue; because it is dangerous to frame rules of Policie out of Countreys differing from vs, both in nature, and custome of life, and forme of gouernment; no Histories are so profitable as our owne. In these your Highnesse may see, the noble disposition and delights of your Ancestors; what were their sweete walkes, what their pleasant Chases: how farre they preferred glory, before either pleasure or safetie; how by the braue behauiour of their sword, they hewed honour out of the sides of their enemies. In these you may see, the largenesse, commodities, and strength of this Countrey; the nature of the people, their wealth, pleasure, exercise and trade of life, and what else is worthy of obseruation. Generally, by these you may so furnish your selfe, as not easily to be abused either by weake or deceitfull aduise._
_The Most High preserue and prosper your Highnesse: that as you succeed many excellent Ancestours in blood, so you may exceed them all in Honourable atchieuements._
Your Highnesse most deuoted, I. HAYWARD.
THE LIFE OF
KING WILLIAM
THE FIRST,
_Sirnamed Conquerour_.
Robert Duke of _Normandie_, the sixth in descent from _Rollo_, riding through _Falais_ a towne in _Normandie_, espied certaine yong persons dauncing neere the way. And as he stayed to view a while the maner of their disport, he fixed his eye especially vpon a certaine damosell named _Arlotte_; of meane birth, a Skinners daughter, who there daunced among the rest. The frame and comely carriage of her body, the naturall beautie and graces of her countenance, the simplicitie of her rurall both behauiour and attire pleased him so well, that the same night he procured her to be brought to his lodging; where he begate of her a sonne, who afterward was named _William_.
I will not defile my writing with memory of some lasciuious behauiour which she is reported to haue vsed, at such time as the Duke approched to embrace her. And doubtfull it is, whether vpon some speciall note of immodestie in herselfe, or whether vpon hate towards her sonne, the English afterwards adding an aspiration to her name (according to the naturall maner of their pronouncing) termed euery vnchast woman _Harlot_.
It is remembred by some, rather seruile then fond in obseruations, who will either finde or frame predictions for euery great action or euent; that his mother before the time of her deliuery had a dreame, that her bowels were extended ouer _Normandie_ and _England_. Also, that at the time of his birth, he fell from his mothers body to the ground; and there filled both his hands with rushes, which had bene cast thicke vpon the floore, and streined them with a very streit gripe. The wiues laughed at large, and soone grew prodigall of idle talke. But the Midwife somewhat more soberly said; That he should not onely hold well his owne, but graspe somewhat from other men.
When he was about 9. yeeres of age, his father went vpon deuotion to _Hierusalem_; and in his returne died at the Citie of _Nice_. So _William_ at that age succeeded his father; hauing then very generous and aspiring spirits, both to resist abroad, and to rule at home. Hee was committed to the gouernment of two of his vnckles; and the French King was entreated by his father to take vpon him the protection, both of his person and State. But his vnckles pretended title to his dignitie, by reason of his vnlawfull birth; the King of France also desired much and had often attempted to reduce _Normandie_ to his absolute subiection, as it was before the inuasion of the _Normans_. So as it may seeme he was committed to these Tutors, as a Lambe should be committed to the tutelage of wolues. The onely meanes of his preseruation consisted in a factious Nobilitie, deuided into so many parts, as there were parties: Some contending for possession of the yong Dukes person; others, of his authoritie and power; all of them incompatible to endure either equals, or els superiours: All of them vnited against a common enemie; all deuided among themselues.
Here it may be demanded how he being vnlawfully borne, could succeed his father in the dutchie of _Normandie_; his father leauing two brothers borne in lawfull marriage, and much other legitimate kindred behind him.
_Will. Malmesburie_[5] and some others haue reported, that albeit hee was borne out of marriage, yet Duke _Robert_ his father did afterwards entertaine his mother for lawfull wife: which by the Law of that Countrey, agreeable in that point to the Ciuill and Canon Lawes, sufficed to make the issue inheritable, although borne before.
And further, it was a generall custome at that time in France, that bastards did succeed, euen in dignities of highest condition, no otherwise then children lawfully begotten. _Thierrie_ bastard of _Clouis_, had for his partage with the lawfull children of the same _Clouis_, the Kingdome of _Austrasie_, now called _Lorraine_. _Sigisbert_ bastard of King _Dagobert_ the first, had his part in the Kingdome of France, with _Clouis_ the 12. lawfull sonne to _Dagobert_. _Loys_ and _Carloman_ bastards of King _Loys le Begue_, succeeded after the death of their father. So likewise in _England_, _Alfride_ bastard sonne of _Oswine_, succeeded his brother _Egfride_. So _Adelstane_ the bastard sonne of _Edward_ the elder, succeeded his father, before _Edmund_ and _Eldred_ his yonger brothers; notwithstanding they were lawfully begotten. So _Edmund_, surnamed the _Martyr_, Bastard sonne to King _Edgar_, succeeded him in the state, before _Ethelbred_ his lawfull issue. Afterward, _Harold_ surnamed _Harefoote_, bastard to _Canutus_, succeeded him in the kingdome, before _Hardicanutus_, his lawfull sonne. The like custome hath been obserued in _Spaine_, in _Portugale_, and in diuers other countreys. And it is probable that this vse was grounded vpon often experience, that bastards (as begotten in the highest heate and strength of affection) haue many times been men of excellent proofe, both in courage and in vnderstanding. This was verified[6] in _Hercules_, _Alexander_ the Great, _Romulus_, _Timotheus_, _Brutus_, _Themistocles_, _Arthur_: in _Homer_, _Demosthenes_, _Bion_, _Bartholus_, _Gratian_, _Peter Lumbard_, _Peter Comestor_, _Io. Andreas_, and diuers of most flourishing name: among whom our _Conquerour_ may worthily be ranged.
And yet in the third race of the Kings of _France_ a law was made, that bastards should not inherite the Crowne of the Realme. This custome was likewise banished out of _England_, and other countreys of _Europe_. Notwithstanding in _France_, other bastards of great houses were still aduowed.
The exercises of this Duke from his verie youth were ingenuous, manly, decent, & such as tended to actiuitie and valure: Hee was of a working minde and vehement spirit, rather ambitious then onely desirous of glory: of a piercing wit, blind in no mans cause, and well sighted in his owne: of a liuely and present courage; neither out of ignorance, or rash estimation of dangers, but out of a true iudgement both of himselfe and of them. In peace he was politicke: In warre valiant and very skilfull, both to espie, and to apprehend, and to follow his aduantages: this valure and skill in militarie affayres, was alwayes seconded with good successe. He was continually accustomed both to the weight and vse of armour, from his very childhood. Oftentimes hee looked death in the face with a braue contempt. He was neuer free from actions of armes; first vpon necessity to defend himselfe, afterwards vpon ambition to offend and disturbe the possessions of others.
In his first age he was much infested with rebels in _Normandie_; who often conspired both against his life, and against his dignitie and State; traducing him, as a bastard, as a boy, as borne of a base ignoble woman, as altogether vnworthy to be their Prince. Of these, some he appeased and reconciled vnto him: others he preuented, and dispersed their power before it was collected: others hee encountred in open field, before he had any haire vpon his face; where hee defeated their forces in full battell, then tooke their strongholds, and lastly chased them out of his dominion.
And first _Roger Tresnye_, hauing gained exceeding great both fauour and reputation by his seruices against the _Sarasins_ in _Spaine_, made claime to the duchie of _Normandie_; as one lawfully descended from _Rollo_ their first Duke. And albeit many others were before him in title, yet (said he) if they will sit still; if they, either through sloath, which is ill, or through feare, which is worse, will abandone the aduenture, he alone would free the _Normans_ from their infamous subiection. He was followed by many, partly vpon opinion of his right, but chiefly of his valour. But when he brought his cause to the arbitrement of Armes, hee was ouerthrowne in a strong battaile, wherein his claime and his life determined together.
After this, _William_ Earle of _Arques_, sonne to _Richard_ the second, and vnckle to Duke _William_, vpon the same pretence declared himselfe against his nephew. And albeit the _Normans_ were heauie to stirre in his fauour, yet hee so wrought with the French King, by assuring him great matters in _Normandie_; that with a mightie armie of his owne people, hee went in person, to place him in possession of that dutchy. The way which the King tooke, led him to a large valley, sandie and full of short bushes and shrubs; troublesome for horsemen either to fight or to march. On either side were rising hils, very thicke set with wood. Here the Armie entred with small aduisement, either for clearing the passage, or for the safetie of their carriages. The Vaward consisted chiefly of battle-axes and pikes. In the right wing were many _Almans_ among the _French_. In the left were many of _Aniou_ and _Poictou_. After these followed the baggage, with an infinite number of scullians, carters and other base drudges attending vpon it. Next came the French King with the maine battaile, consisting for the most part of valiant and worthy Gentlemen, brauely mounted. The lances and men at Armes cloased the Rereward.
When they were well entred this valley, the _Normans_ did liuely charge vpon them in head; they deliuered also their deadly shot from the hils on both sides, as thicke as haile. Notwithstanding the Vantgard, casting themselues into a pointed battaile in forme of a wedge, with plaine force of hand made themselues way; and marching in firme and close order through the thickest of their enemies, gained (albeit not without great losse) the top of a hill, and there presently encamped themselues. The like fortune happily might the residue haue had, if they had followed with the like order and courage. But failing herein, the right wing was hewed in pieces: the left wing was broken and beaten vpon the carriages; where ouerbearing and treading downe one an other, they receiued almost as much hurt from themselues, as they did from their enemies. The maine battaile and Rereward aduancing forward to rescue the carriage, were first miserably ouerwhelmed with a storme of arrowes from the hill on both sides: and the gallant horses once galled with that shot, would no more obey or endure their riders; but flinging out, either ouerthrew or disordred all in their way. And the more to encrease the miserie of that day, the dull and light sand which was raised, partly by the feete of horses and men, and partly by violence of the wind, which then blew full in the faces of the _French_, inuolued them all as in a thicke and darke cloud; which depriued them of all foresight and direction in gouerning their affaires. The valiant was nothing discerned from the coward, no difference could be set betweene contriuance and chance: All laboured in one common calamitie, and euery one encreased the feare of his fellow.
The _Normans_ hauing well spent their shot, and perceiuing the _French_ in this sort both disordered and dismayed, came downe from the hils where they houered before; and falling to the close stroke of battaile-axe and sword, most cruelly raged in the blood of their enemies. By whom if any sparke of valour was shewen, being at so great disaduantage, it was to no purpose, it was altogether lost; it was so farre from relieuing others, that it was not sufficient to defend themselues. And doubtlesse no thing so much fauoured the state of the _French_ that day, as that the number of the _Normans_ sufficed not to enclose them behind. For then they had bene entrapped as Deere in a toile; then not one of them could haue escaped. But the entrance of the valley remayning open, many fled backe to the plaine ground; tumbling together in such headlong hast, that if the _Normans_ had sharply put vpon them the chase, it is certaine that they had bene extreemely defeated. But the Duke gaue ouer the execution vpon good aduise. For knowing himselfe not to be of force vtterly to vanquish the _French_, he assayed rather by faire forbearance to purchase their friendship.