Note Rr. p. . The Sermon of Wulfstan or Lupus

There is, I suppose, no question that the person affectedly described as “Lupus” is really Archbishop Wulfstan. And I have little doubt in fixing the discourse to the year 1014. This is the date given in the heading of one of the manuscripts, while another has 1008. In an insertion in the text itself the discourse is said to have been delivered four years before the death of Æthelred. “Ðis wæs on Æþelredes cyningcs dagum gediht, feower geara fæce ær he forðferde.” This would at first sight look as if the right year were 1012. But the discourse itself contains a passage which shows that it must be later than Æthelred’s flight in 1013. The speaker says (p. ) that the two most shameful deeds that can be done are to compass one’s lord’s death and to drive him out of the land. Each of these crimes, he says, has been done in England (“ægðer is geworden on ðysum earde”); Eadward has been murdered; we expect the speaker to add that Æthelred has been driven out; but either some words have been lost in the text or else Wulfstan left it to his hearers to fill up the gap for themselves. But in any case the passage would have no force or meaning at any time before Æthelred’s flight. And I am not sure that it is not possible, by a little chronological subtlety, to reconcile the date of 1014 with the other date of four years before the death of Æthelred. The year begins at different times in different reckonings. In a chronology which made the year begin at Lady-day, Æthelred’s death on April 23, 1016 would come in a year 1016–1017, while, if the sermon was preached before March 25, in a year 1013–1014, this might possibly be called the fourth year before the other. It may no doubt have been delivered just at the end of what we should call the year 1013, but the matter of the discourse agrees so well with the matter of the decrees of the Gemót of 1014 that one is strongly tempted to connect the two. It cannot in any case belong to 1012. See p. .

It is remarkable how little strictly historical information the speech gives us. Indeed the one historical fact which it mentions is wrong, as Wulfstan says that the body of Eadward the Martyr was burned (“Eadweard man forræde and syððan acwealde and æfter þam forbærnde”). But it is none the less valuable as a picture of the wretchedness of the times, a picture which goes very much into detail in its general descriptions, though without mentioning the names of persons or places. I have summed up most of the chief points in the text. Among the passages which are most worthy of notice are those which relate to the slave-trade. The orator first says (p. );

“Earme men syndon sare beswicene and hreowlice besyrwde and ut of þysum earde wide gesealde swyþe unforworhte fremdum to gewealde, and cradolcild geðeowode þurh wælhreowe unlaga for lytelre ðyfðe wide gynd ðas þeode. And freo riht fornumene and ðrælriht genyrwde and ælmesriht gewanode.”

The other passage (102) says;

“Eac we witan full georne hwær seo yrmð gewearð þæt fæder gesealde his bearn wið weorðe, and bearn his modor, and broðor sealde oðerne fremdum to gewealde ut of ðisse ðeode.”

Slavery also brought its own punishment in other ways. The slaves often joined the heathen invaders (“ðeh þræla hwylc hlaforde æthlæpe and of cristendome to wicinge weorðe”); sometimes a thegn’s slave led his own master into slavery (“and oft þræl ðæne ðegen ðe ær wæs his hlaford, cnyt swyðe fæste and wyrcð him to þræle, ðurh Godes yrre”). The lustful excesses of Englishmen, several of whom would hire a harlot in common (p. ), were avenged by the outrages of the invaders on the wives and daughters of English thegns (“and oft tyne oððe twelfe, ælc after oðrum, scendað and tawiað to bismore micelum ðæs ðegenes cwenan, and hwilum his dohtor oððe nyd magan; þær he onlocað þa læte hine sylfne rancne and rincne and genoh godne ær þæt gewurðe.” p. . Cf. Herod, viii. 33). Two or three pirates drove all the people from sea to sea (“oft twegen sæmen oððe ðry hwilum drifað ða drafe Cristenra manna fram sæ to sæ ut ðurh ðæs ðeode gewelede togædere.” p. ).

Lastly, there is an apparent allusion to the capture of Canterbury and captivity of Ælfheah and others, which certainly falls in better with my notion of that event than with the notion of a general massacre. “We hym gyldað singallice, and hy us hynað dæghwamlice: hy hergiað and hy bærnað, rypað and ræpiað and to scipe lædað.” (p. ). This almost sounds like the poem in the Chronicles about Ælfheah. One might almost have thought that the speech was made during the time of Ælfheah’s imprisonment, but the manifest allusion to the flight of Æthelred forbids this.