The opening of the British Museum’s The Bayeux Tapestry exhibition is not far off now. In early July, a bright yellow truck transported the tapestry from France via Eurostar, arriving in London under cover of darkness. With George Osborne, chair of the museum, posing as the symbol of a new entente cordiale, the display is being hailed both as a diplomatic triumph and as the blockbuster exhibition of a lifetime. Soon many thousands will have the opportunity to experience what Max Adams in his new book describes as this ‘dazzling, cinematic, embroidered strip cartoon’.
Speculation that the tapestry (actually an embroidery on linen) is missing a final scene is probably correct. Originally the last panel may have shown William the Conqueror’s coronation at Westminster Abbey on Christmas Day 1066. This was a crucial event. The crowning of the Norman invader using English rites emphasised William’s belief that he was Edward the Confessor’s legitimate heir.
Twenty years later, at the close of William’s reign, the issue of legitimacy lay at the heart of one of the most ambitious feats of government ever undertaken. Hundreds of royal agents were sent round the country to compile a survey, known in its completed form as ‘the king’s book’. Over a century later the subjugated English were referring to it by a name loaded with the unpopularity and terror the survey had triggered: Domesday, that is, the Day of Judgment.
