times is so concise that the events of an entire year are covered by a single sentence. The major chroniclers all drew upon a common pool of earlier sources, either quoting them verbatim or embellishing them with their own interpretations. Thus arose a form of historiographical “telephone game,” in which fact intermingled with fiction, real events with legend. The chroniclers also often wrote their histories as morality tales rather than strictly factual accounts. Although he claimed that each generation had a duty to keep a truthful record for the glory of God, Orderic Vitalis also firmly believed that history provided a record of events that was full of moral examples profitable to future generations: “Everyone should daily grow in knowledge of how he ought to live, and follow the noble examples of famous men now dead to the best of his ability.” 3 The story of Matilda’s rejection of William—and its aftermath—is found in the Chronicle of Tours , an extraordinarily lurid and sensational account written almost two centuries after the events that it describes. It is accounts such as this that are responsible for the many myths and legends about Matilda that sprang up during the years after her death. They provide a marked contrast to the official documents that chart her public duties as duchess of Normandy and queen of England. The emerging portrait is of a woman of profound contradictions: on the one hand a model wife and consort, on the other a headstrong, adulterous traitor. Given that she was the consort of England’s most famous conquering king, the number of established facts about Matilda of Flanders in which we can rest any confidence is surprisingly small. The years before she rose to prominence as duchess of Normandy and then as queen of England are given only the most cursory mention in the contemporary records. It is nigh on impossible to decipher such fundamental details as how many children she bore William, and in what order. But by piecing together the often fragmentary evidence, we can still paint a vivid picture of this most striking medieval queen. Matilda spent most of her life in Normandy, and it was there that she enjoyed the greatest political power. The proliferation of Norman sources has therefore been of considerable value in exploring her history. But after 1066, her attention was increasingly drawn across the Channelto her husband’s newly conquered kingdom. She would become the first woman to be crowned queen of England and formally recognized as such, and would wield authority so effectively that she proved an inspiration for female consorts for many centuries afterward. One of the most important sources for the period of Matilda’s reign in England is the series of charters to which she put her signature. These were usually written to record the transfer of property or estates, whereby the king and queen would grant lands to a favored subject (or in some cases a religious house) who would manage them on their behalf. Matilda signed these with an elaborate Jerusalem-style cross, which is both symmetrical and made with “une maine ferme” (a firm hand)—suggestive of her strength of character—distinguishing hers from the more mundane marks that were made by her fellow attesters. 4 By following the charters, we can trace the itinerary of this most peripatetic of consorts, and the frequency with which she witnessed them helps us grasp her growing influence and enormous importance in William’s administration. Arguably the most famous documentary source for the eleventh century is Domesday Book. Immensely valuable as a testament to the impact of the Norman Conquest upon England, it also tells us of the considerable wealth that Matilda accumulated during her tenure as queen. Moreover, it gives us an insight into her career as chief justiciar of England during William’s frequent absences, and the many references to her settling contentious property disputes prove just how