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The first three sections of the Bayeux Tapestry must be taken together, for they describe one incident, which is the departure of Harold from Bosham the port of Chichester, and a manor of his own. Of strictly contemporary evidence to that journey we have none. We can only guess that the year in which it was taken was the year 1064. As to its motive the Bayeux Tapestry gives of course the current Norman version, or rather hints at it. Edward the Confessor is in his palace at Westminster. It is important to note the conventional signs of his rank, the sceptre and the crown. It is the reappearance of the same symbols in the crowning of Harold—which was in the Norman version his supreme act of treason—that is particularly insisted upon. Edward, thus officially presented as it were, is giving a message: that is certainly the symbolism of the attitude, and it is exceedingly likely, though not equally certain, that the person to whom the message is being given is intended for Harold. But it is remarkable that the inscription here says nothing of the nature of that message, and that the point of capital importance—William of Malmesbury’s assertion that Harold was sent by Edward to assure William of his succession to the English throne—is not set out. Taking Wace as the basis of the Tapestry—and this is the best hypothesis—Harold sailed to release from William’s custody his brother Wulfnoth, who had been kept as a hostage in Normandy for King Edward to guarantee King Edward the fidelity of Godwin. But we must remember that the Roman de Rou does mention Edward’s sending Harold to assure William of the succession. And on the whole it is most likely that the intention of the Tapestry is to suggest this. Harold and his knights ride to Bosham. Harold himself is conventionally distinguished by the hawk on the wrist. The Church of Bosham is introduced into the story probably or certainly with the object of emphasizing (as the Tapestry perpetually does) the religious enormity of Harold’s later action, and both this visit to the Church and the Feast in the Upper Room before embarking, which forms the fourth episode, are clearly intended to refer to incidents which were traditional in the Norman story. But we have, I think, no remaining text giving either the visit to the Church or the Feast.

In the fifth division Harold and his suite embark, and it should be noted how large a company the Convention of the Tapestry supposes.

The intention of the expedition was almost certainly to make a Norman port. Once in the Channel the square-rigged ships could not beat into a wind that was too westerly for them or too much south of west, and their land-fall was at some point upon the coast of Ponthieu, of which district Count Guy was the lord. The point upon the coast of Ponthieu where the ships beached, or rather cast anchor in the shoal water, we may presume to have been the right bank of the estuary of the Somme, for it is the most convenient entry and has some shelter from a southerly wind; but all that flat sandy coast gave good opportunity for landing from such vessels, and the fleet may have made the Bay of Authie or even the mouth of the Canche. But the choice is not a wide one, for the coast of Ponthieu did not extend beyond the Canche. If the Somme were the point of entry, it has this historical interest: that Harold would then have found himself fated to land at the very point from which William two years later was to sail for the invasion of England. Count Guy seized Harold for ransom, something of a formality, though a formality which was to be of formidable consequence. He takes Harold and his suite to “Belrem”—the place to-day called Beaurain. Here the Tapestry follows Wace very closely, for it is Wace who tells us that Harold was recognised by a fisherman, who sent for Count Guy.

The capital of Ponthieu was Montreuil, and this castle of Beaurain, of which ruins still stand, was six or seven miles up the river from Montreuil—one passes right beneath it in the railway to-day on one’s way to Hesdin.

The last scene in this episode (which ends the first part of the story) is a scene by night in the hall of the castle of Beaurain, where by the light of torches Count Guy and Harold (who have ridden to Beaurain together as men of equal rank though one is being held to ransom) are bargaining—for the word “Parobolant” must refer to the discussion of the ransom.

To this first series of episodes in the story succeeds the arrival of the Duke of Normandy’s heralds insisting upon the release of Harold because Guy was vassal to William. The advent of these messengers forms the 12th and 13th sections of the design. It is perhaps a guide to the time of year in which all this took place, that on the border below we have the ploughing and the sowing of the spring. There has arisen in connection with these messengers of William’s a considerable and rather futile debate as to the meaning of the little figure who is holding the horses. I take his small size to be merely a piece of perspective, and the word “Turold” to refer to the taller figure on the left, to which it is attached.

This name Turold will be familiar to the students of Normandy in another famous connection, for it was a Turold (much at this time) who put at the end of “The Song of Roland” his inscription: “This is the end of what Turoldus wrote.”

After the arrival of the messengers the next three panels deal with Guy’s reluctant submission to his overlord; then comes the handing over of Harold to William. The Tapestry here closely follows Wace, save in one odd particular—that it reverses the order of the scenes and does not make quite clear the insistence of William; at least, that insistence and the importance of the urgent orders which William sent are not evident to a modern man looking at the document. But there is an element which might have made it clearer to a contemporary, and this is the accoutrement of the messengers. I have spoken about this in another aspect in the Preface. They are presumably men of high position in William’s court, for they bear fully developed heraldic signs upon their shield. It should be remarked, however, that save for shield and lance they are not armoured, and whether to indicate haste or the pacific character which William designed to retain as long as possible in their mission, they are not even helmeted. There is another point in these panels well worth the attention of the modern reader interested in the date of the document. We have in the border beneath an episode of a man fighting a bear, and somewhat to the right an episode which may be the introduction of tropical animals—the larger Felidæ, panthers perhaps. The first subject is certain, the second probable. Now, here (with many other examples in the long border above and below) you have the influence of the bestiaries (that is, the twelfth-century books describing beasts foreign and imaginary), and these, in turn, are the product of the Crusading march. In other words, these details fit in with all the rest of the converging evidence which forbids us to doubt that the document is of a later date than the Conquest itself. The last of this group of panels, the 16th, represents the bringing of Harold to William by Guy, and there follows a most interesting group of not less than ten panels, which form a separate episode in the story, and one which is for many reasons of high historic interest.

This episode is that of the Breton War, and it is curious to note that the rude though vigorous work of the Bayeux Tapestry tells us more about it than any other authority. The importance of this contrast between the Tapestry and the chroniclers will be at once apparent. It means that some tradition or some lost document ascribed to this somewhat inconclusive expedition into Brittany holds a great place in the story of Harold and his relations with the Conqueror. No one who looks at the Tapestry can doubt for a moment what the point of this episode is. The point is that Harold, joining with William in the expedition, proving of great service, rewarded by William, and in general much more closely bound to the Norman court through this accident than he otherwise might have been, was in all that followed a treacherous friend. The implication is clear. Whoever designed the Tapestry, or furnished the materials from tradition, believed and wanted others to believe that Harold was not only formally a traitor according to the mere rules of feudal society, but also morally and fundamentally one, as having forgotten and abused a close personal tie, the product of armed service. It is evident that in the imagination of contemporaries, and therefore in the tradition which they built up, this march of Harold side by side with William into Brittany colours the whole story.

Wace has but a few vague lines just telling us that there was such a thing as a fight with Brittany at this moment. If I am not mistaken, William of Poitiers is the only chronicler who gives us anything like an account, and even so his account is absurdly short and undetailed, though it tallies, both as to the places mentioned and as to the episodes with the Tapestry. The Breton Chronicle, I believe, says nothing about it.

Turning to the details of these ten panels (17 to 26 inclusive), one notes again the fully developed armorial bearings upon the retinue of William, and in the next panel the convention of the Palatium,2 that capital institution of Europe, the seat of government in every land; in one aspect a building, in another a body of men, and throughout the West for a thousand years the continuator of Rome.

It is also interesting to note the attempt at portraiture in the case of William. The round bullet head and square shoulders of the Gaul (the slight and distant strain of Scandinavian blood seems to have influenced neither his soul nor his body) are emphasized in this first introduction of him, and it is possible so to emphasize the portrait because he is so represented in this early part of the series neither helmeted nor crowned.

The episode of the priest and of the woman who is given the name of “Aelfgyva” has, if I am not mistaken, remained quite inexplicable. I will not follow my predecessors in the criticism of this, for I can suggest nothing new with regard to it. All who have written on the Tapestry with any care for historical accuracy and for the spirit of research have admitted their incompetence to explain the thing. There follows upon it the riding out of the army across the neck of the Cotentin towards the Mont St. Michael, which was, as it were, the boundary stone between Brittany and Normandy; and here we have the first appearance of those knights in full armour, which are so characteristic of the chief episodes in the Tapestry and whose costume is of such value to us in estimating its date. There was some incident at the crossing of the Couesnon (the boundary river between Normandy and Brittany) which evidently vividly impressed contemporaries and which further emphasized the now intimate and personal bond between Harold and the Norman court.

The river was forded. Men and horses got caught in the quicksands, and in some fashion it was Harold and his men who saved those who were in peril. It is worth pointing out in this connection that there was a bridge at Pontorson, within a few miles of the mouth; why that bridge was not used suggests an interesting conjecture. Perhaps the enemy held it, and William took his force round by the seashore to the north in order to outflank the position.

Conan of Brittany fell back on Dol, and then back again from Dol to Rennes. In the representation of the retreat from Dol you have a man sliding down a rope from the walls, which may be the memory of some incident, or more probably a conventional mark of haste. I presume a retreat upon Rennes, though the only proof of it is the single word “Rednes” and the conventional drawing to represent the town. At any rate, the “hub of the campaign” was at Dinant; the main fight was round the walls of that town, and Conan is represented in the Tapestry as surrendering it. He “offers the keys to William” in the inscription upon this panel.

Now the very little documentary evidence we have goes to show that this is legend rather than history, and further suggests the comparative lateness of the Tapestry, for William of Poitiers tells us that the expedition was on the whole unsuccessful.

These ten panels of the Breton Expedition (which I desire once more to point out as capital in the whole story—as told in the Bayeux Tapestry) end with a short and simple but critical incident, and that is the giving of arms to Harold by William. The thing was already a ritual and the mention of nothing could have more struck the men of the twelfth century with the closeness of the personal tie between William and Harold, which all this part of the Tapestry is designed to bring into relief. It is symbolised in the 26th panel.

The next two panels (27 and 28) represent what is in popular history the pivot of the whole story, Harold’s oath. It is, of course, the chief single event in the story of what the Norman writers regard as his treason. Note first that the scene is Bayeux. That is important, both because it explains why this favourite town of William’s should also be the custodian of the document before us, and because it again refers us to Wace and the Roman de Rou. Wace is the only author, I believe, who puts down Bayeux as the scene of Harold’s oath. I will give the words from the Roman de Rou that the reader may judge:

“That he (Harold) would give up to him (William) England when the King Edward should die, and that he (Harold) should take to wife, if he willed, a daughter that he (William) had. This, if he would, he should swear. William ... summoned a Parliament3 at Bayeux as people say,” &c. &c.

William is clothed in all the ritual garments of his authority, garments which were for the rulers of that day almost hierarchic and priestly; he is seated upon a throne, and everything is done by the artist to bring out the solemnity of the occasion. Harold swears with a hand upon either reliquary set upon two neighbouring altars for the purpose of the oath. It is true that the inscription upon the Tapestry tells us nothing of what he is promising upon oath, but we are quite safe in presuming that the story follows Wace and that he is promising the crown of England.

It is, of course, the chief matter of historical dispute in the whole business whether Harold did make that promise or no.

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