1066 - Andrew Bridgeford [132]
We could even suggest a hypothesis which does away with the whole idea of an outside patron. The monks of St Augustine's could have themselves decided to commission the Bayeux Tapestry, as a gift, secular in tone, to Bishop Odo of Bayeux, Earl of Kent, in order to cultivate him as an ally. St Augustine's was certainly wealthy enough to cause such a work to be produced. Its income of £635 in 1086 made it one of the richest abbeys in England. As the oldest Abbey in England, dating from the time of St Augustine himself, it claimed freedom from the jurisdiction of the Archbishop of Canterbury. The monks of St Augustine's even produced a series of forged charters in the 1070s in an attempt to retain this privileged position.1 Archbishop Lanfranc of Canterbury was not disposed to tolerate such an independently-minded monastery in his own back yard. Ill feeling between the monks of St Augustine's and the rival Christ Church Abbey over which Lanfranc presided, was already evident in the 1070s and this was to boil over into outright violence on the streets of Canterbury in the late 1080s.2 Odo, too, had poor relations with Lanfranc and thus he may well have been perceived by the monks as a valuable potential ally able and willing to stand up for the Archbishop. If anything like this is right, the appearance of Wadard and Vital, both knights of Odo having strong ties to the abbey, is unremarkable. Furthermore, the monks may have also desired to flatter Eustace, whose stone from Marquise was helping rebuild their abbey, presumably around this same time. On the other hand, the more subtle and hidden ways that the Tapestry promotes Eustace and his Frenchmen suggest that the designer was already favourable to Eustace, perhaps being of Boulonnais origin himself, and that the Count of Boulogne was involved in some more direct capacity from the start, if not as patron, then at least as a supporter in some sense. Either way, he is a very much more central figure than has traditionally been believed.
If the question of patronage is less certain than it has previously been thought, it has become clear that the tapestry's content is far removed from the 'Norman propaganda' of con ventional myth. Whoever was the patron and whatever the genesis of the idea, it is clear that the artist was playing a delicious and thoroughly dangerous game. The picture of the Bayeux Tapestry that has emerged in this book is one of an artistic masterpiece of intellectual brilliance, shot through with multiple layers of meaning. The purpose of Harold's voyage, the significance of Ælfgyva, Harold's oath, the meaning of the word 'French' in the battle scenes and the death of Harold are all treated by the artist in a way that deliberately teases the audience with ambiguity. At one level all of these scenes can be read as consistent with the Norman story. Ultimately, however, the artist's underlying meaning is revealed by subtle and persistent pictorial clues. He flattered Bishop Odo, but at the same time stitched ingeniously into the embroidered story are veiled statements of the English point of view and coded clues as to the role of Count Eustace and his men in the downfall of Harold, even an indication that Eustace himself struck the fatal blow that brought the last Anglo-Saxon king to his knees. The tapestry tells us that the Norman claim to the throne was built upon a lie. It was the lie that near the end of his reign King Edward sent Harold to Normandy in order to confirm William's status as the next king. In fact, Harold had journeyed to the continent on his own account but foolishly he swore an oath in William's favour in order to extract himself from his prolonged and dangerous stay in Normandy. When Harold himself ascended the throne in January 1066, in breach of this oath, God's judgement was not long in falling upon him and his country alike. Instrumental in the enforcement