Why did Lady Godiva take a naked horse ride?

Many conflicting legends have masked the real Godiva for centuries. To begin with, "lady" wasn't even her title. In 11th-century Anglo-Saxon England, that title was used exclusively to refer to the queen. The best comparison we can make to her noble status is countess, but that term didn't exist during Godiva's lifetime. Instead, she would've been addressed as "the earl's wife," or "the earl's bed-partner." Given that her husband's name was Earl Leofric, this title translates to Leofric eorl and his gebedda [source: Donoghue].

As if mistaking her title weren't a bad enough historical transgression, we've actually been calling her the wrong name. Born sometime between 979 and 1016, the noblewoman's name was Godgifu, which means "good gift." Some sources refer to her as Godgiva, and she eventually became known as Godiva. Around 1035, Godgifu married Leofric, Earl of Mercia. He was a pretty powerful man. The region of Mercia was at the very center of the island we know as modern-day England, and it was just across the way from Wales. Leofric's authority radiated from nearly every cardinal direction to influence people all across Anglo-Saxon England.

But Godgifu was no slouch herself. She came into the marriage with a considerable amount of wealth -- and eight countries that she called her very own. One of these was Coventry, the site of her legendary horse ride. (We'll return to that momentarily.) Under Anglo-Saxon laws, women were entrusted with keeping their household valuables and finances secure. Godgifu took very seriously the matter of managing her wealth. She and Leofric were also philanthropic and the primary benefactors of monasteries in their domain. Godgifu gave generously to the Benedictine abbey in Coventry in 1043, offering gold, silver and gems that were fashioned into crosses and bookplates. Given the nature of historical records from the Middle Ages, we don't have many details about Godgifu's personality but can infer that she was very pious [source: Stephens].

Leofric was an enthusiastic supporter of his wife's philanthropy. But according to some accounts, his staunch refusal to lower taxes for the citizens of Coventry was the basis for Godgifu's famous ride. The first version of the Lady Godiva legend appeared in the 13th century, nearly 200 years after her death. Roger of Wendover, a Benedictine monk and historian from St. Albans, wrote in the 1057 entry of his Chronica that the "Countess Godiva" asked Leofric to abolish the rather sizable tax demanded of Coventry's citizens. Leofric said no, but Godiva persisted until he gave in -- nearly. He promised to repeal the tax if Godiva would ride naked on her horse through the market and back. Godiva didn't flinch at the suggestion; she just ensured that she had Leofric's permission to complete the challenge. Then she undressed, let loose her long hair and arranged it over her body to cover herself. With her hair as a veil, she rode through the town and back without being seen. When she returned home, Leofric kept his promise and signed a charter, thereby freeing Coventry's citizens of the tax [source: Roger of Wendover].

The reverent noblewoman risking her reputation to protect the town's citizens makes for a powerful story. Too bad it's not true. On the next page, we'll take a closer look at the story and see why historians have discounted it.

After the Norman Conquest, writers endeavored to record the lore and history of England. Their goal seemed to be quantity over quality -- the accuracy of many of these accounts is debatable, and the Lady Godiva tale is one sterling example of a pseudo-historical yarn that was woven again and again through the centuries.

As we've learned, Roger of Wendover is credited with the first instance of the Godiva legend. His monastery had been almost solely founded by Godgifu. Roger may have been trying to glorify the generous patron: In his account, the Countess Godiva is infallibly pious (Leofric is begrudgingly righteous in the end). Matthew Paris went on to paint her even more colorfully in Flores Historarium when he succeeded Roger in the late 13th century. Their versions were pretty similar, though Paris took more liberties with fleshing out the characters. In the 14th century, other historians added that the ride occurred in the morning and that the townspeople continued to pay taxes on their horses.

But in the 16th century, Grafton's "Chronicle" added a new twist to the story. He cited Gaufride as his source -- but no one is sure who Gaufride was. Scholastically speaking, this makes Grafton's version more tenuous, but it proved far more entertaining (later, it would inspire countless poems and ballads about Godiva). According to Grafton, the townspeople had been ordered to stay inside while Godiva rode through the town. One man couldn't resist sneaking a peek as she processed down the streets. As he peered through the window to the street below, a divine force intervened to strike him dead, or in some versions blind. He became known as Peeping Tom. This tension between the exhibitionist and the scopophiliac (one who finds pleasure in looking at things) was later a critical point in Sigmund Freud's theories about human psychology. For years, Lady Godiva and Peeping Tom were inextricably connected, though today we use the colloquial expression "Peeping Tom" to refer to someone -- male or female -- who looks at things he or she isn't supposed to.

By the 19th century, the Godiva legend had taken on a new meaning. The lower classes were at last able to afford private homes and came to know the luxury of personal space. People accepted that some things are better shielded from public eyes, and they began to consider Godiva as a representative of modesty. In 20th century and modern popular culture, these symbolic parts of the story started to fade away, but concrete images like the noblewoman's naked body and her long hair still resonate with people -- even if they don't know why Godiva took that naked horse ride.

So is it worse to remember history inaccurately or not remember it at all? We learned earlier that Godgifu entered into her marriage with some property in her name and that Coventry was one of those places. Since she owned Coventry, Godgifu would've made the call to lower or abolish taxes. What's more, 11th-century Coventry was a provincial parcel of farmland [source: Stephens]. There were no taxes. And the land wasn't big enough or prosperous enough to warrant a taxation system until the 12th or perhaps 13th century. Therefore, Godiva's ride never happened because there simply was no need for her to prove anything.

That hasn't stopped people from celebrating it. Beginning in 1678, a Godiva Procession was held in Coventry to commemorate and recreate the event. Maidens tapped to play the part of Godiva wore a flesh-colored body stocking and were offered free liquor by the local pubs -- liquid courage for the ride. Today, Coventry carries on the tradition. Even if it's just lore, the Lady Godiva tale is part of the town's identity.

To read more about Godgifu, alias Lady Godiva, peruse the links that follow.