Anonymous

THE REIGN OF WILLIAM I.

After Hastings—-Election of Edgar Atheling—Submission of London and Accession of William—Tumult during his Coronation—Character of his Government—Return to Normandy—-Affairs during his Absence—Suppression of the First English Rebellion—Rebellion in the North—The Last National Effort—The Reform of the Church—The Erection of Castles—Plan of a Norman Castle—End of Edwin and Morcar—"The Last of the Saxons"—Affairs in Maine—Conspiracy of the Norman Nobles—The Execution of Waltheof—Punishment of Ralph the Wader—The Story of Walcher of Durham—Expeditions to Scotland and Wales—Quarrels between William and his Sons—Domesday Book—The Creation of the New Forest—Punishment of Odo of Bayeux—The Death of William—Incidents at his Burial—Character of William.

Great as were the disasters of Hastings, the English were still in a position to offer a powerful resistance, had they been united and firm. The population of London took up arms, and were further strengthened by the arrival of the Earls Edwin and Morcar within their walls, who now saw how foolish their previous treachery had been. The Witena-gemot was convened, in which, as the brothers of Harold were both slain, and his sons too young to govern, Edgar Atheling, the grand-nephew of Edward the Confessor, the only descendant of Cerdic, was elected king, chiefly through the influence of the primate Stigand, and Aldred, Archbishop of York.

Although dear to the people on account of his birth, Edgar possessed no one quality necessary for the crisis which menaced his kingdom. So weak was his character, that it would have been difficult for him, under the most favourable circumstances, to have maintained himself upon the throne; and he was totally unfitted to cope with an adversary, who was not only the most warlike, but one of the ablest princes of his time.

William remained for some days quietly at Hastings after his victory, not doubting that the terrified inhabitants of London would send a deputation to his camp with offers of submission. This inactivity, however, was but of short duration. Finding that no one came to him with offers from the English, and learning that several vessels which his wife Matilda had sent to him with reinforcements from Normandy had been attacked and driven from the coast at Romney, the duke felt that it was time to act, but tempered his ardour with prudence.

His first care was to assure his communications with the continent, and establish a post to which he could retreat in case of reverse. With this intention, he followed with his army the line of coast between Hastings and Dover, stopping by the way at Romney, which he pillaged and burnt. The garrison of Dover Castle, a fortress at that time deemed impregnable, yielded without a blow, vanquished by the terror of his name; and was replaced by a force of Normans. Here William remained till he received fresh troops and supplies from Normandy; after which, he advanced with the flower of his army to London.

Finding the approaches to the city well defended, the Conqueror made no attempt to carry it by assault, but dispersed his troops in the neighbourhood, with orders to burn and plunder the villages, and to intercept all supplies to the capital. The two earls, Morcar and Edwin—refusing to yield obedience to the phantom of a king whom the ambitious prelates, who hoped to govern in his name, had caused to be elected—had retired to their respective governments. After their departure the military authority fell into the hands of Esegar. Although deprived of the use of his limbs, he caused himself to be borne on his litter to every point of the city, examined the defences, and exercised the utmost vigilance and zeal for the general safety.

But the earls and people gradually withdrew their allegiance from the feeble Edgar, and resolved to take the oath of fidelity to a new sovereign in the camp of the Normans. The primate Stigand was the first who went over to William, whom he encountered at Wallingford, and who received him with hollow marks of affection and respect, addressing him by the titles of "Archbishop" and "Father" in exchange for those of "King" and "Son." The example of Stigand was quickly followed by his brother of York, and the principal nobles and prelates who had assembled in London. At length Edgar Atheling himself came and resigned into the hands of the Conqueror the crown he had so lately received. William accepted it with affected modesty, invited the barons to express their wishes, and, on finally ascending the throne, made it appear that he did so in obedience to their desire.

Christmas Day was the day fixed for the coronation of the new king, and the church of Westminster the place appointed; but before trusting himself within the walls of London, the wily Norman caused some of the strongest entrenchments to be destroyed, and commenced strengthening the fortress which has since grown into the Tower of London.

William decided on receiving the crown from the hands of Aldred, Archbishop of York, and he also resolved that the ceremony should take place with the same formalities which marked the accession of the Saxon kings, wishing to appear to hold his crown, not as conqueror, but as the elect of the English people.

A serious tumult took place during the ceremony. When the archbishop demanded of the assembled nobles whether they would have William for their king, the reply was given with acclamations so loud as to startle the Norman soldiers stationed outside the church. Supposing that an attack was being made upon their duke, the troops rushed to the English houses adjoining the abbey, and set them on fire. Both Norman and Saxon nobles rushed from the sacred edifice, leaving their new sovereign and a few churchmen alone within the walls. Keeping his self-possession, William commanded that the ceremony should be concluded; and in the midst of the cries of his new subjects, who were being massacred on all sides, the flames of the burning houses, the pillage and devastation, he took the oath to govern according to the laws of the kings his predecessors. Directly after his coronation, William, not deeming himself in perfect safety in London, whose inhabitants bitterly resented the outrage they had been subjected to, removed to Barking, where he received the homage of many of the great earls, churchmen, and thanes.

The conduct of William at this period appears to have been most prudent; he respected the rights of his new subjects and the laws of property, though it was impossible for him to restrain the rapacious disposition of his followers. The treasures of Harold and the donations of the nobility, which were supposed to be voluntary, furnished the first largess, which he distributed amongst his companions in arms. He granted at least nominal privileges to the citizens of London, in the hope of reconciling them to his government, and took strong measures to secure the future tranquillity of the capital. It is true that he disarmed the inhabitants; but at the same time, in order to establish a favourable impression of his justice, he punished with rigour various acts of outrage that had been committed. He introduced into England that strict execution of justice for which his administration had been celebrated in Normandy; and even during this violent revolution, disorder and oppression met with rigorous punishment. His army in particular was governed with severe discipline; and, notwithstanding the insolence of victory, care was taken to give as little offence as possible to the jealousy of the vanquished. The king seemed solicitous to unite, in an amicable manner, the Normans and the English, by intermarriages and alliances; and all his new subjects who approached his person were received with affability and regard. No signs of suspicion appeared, not even towards Edgar Atheling, the heir of the ancient royal family, whom William confirmed in the honours of Earl of Oxford, conferred on him by Harold, and whom he affected to treat with the highest kindness, as nephew to the Confessor, his great friend and benefactor. Though he confiscated the estates of Harold, and of those who had fought in the battle of Hastings on the side of that prince, whom he represented as a usurper, he seemed willing to admit of every plausible excuse for past opposition to his pretensions, and received many into favour who had carried arms against him.

William set sail from England in the month of May, 1067, to return to Normandy, accompanied by the most considerable nobility of England, who, while they served to grace his court by their presence and magnificent retinues, were in reality hostages for the fidelity of the nation. Among these were Edgar Atheling, Stigand the primate, the Earls Edwin and Morcar, Waltheof, the son of the brave Earl Siward, with others eminent for the greatness of their fortunes and families, or for their ecclesiastical and civil dignities. During his absence, William had entrusted the government of his newly-acquired country to his half-brother and most trusted companion, Odo, Bishop of Bayeux, and William Fitz-Osborn. The affection of the king had elevated Odo at a very early age to the see of Bayeux, where he displayed great ability, not only in the administration of the affairs of his diocese, but in the councils of his sovereign. In obedience to the canon of the Church, which strictly forbids the shedding of blood by a priest, he never carried arms, although he constantly attended his brother in all his battles, assisting him with his advice and resources, which were large. He was, says a contemporary historian, "a prelate of such rare and noble qualities, that the English, barbarians as they were, could not but admire him." To Odo had been assigned the government of Kent and the South, the remainder of the kingdom being committed to the care of Fitz-Osborn. This noble was the steadfast friend of the Conqueror, whom he invariably supported in his disputes with his own turbulent Norman subjects, and to his influence was attributed the resolution of William to make good his claims to the crown of England by the invasion of the country. Fitz-Osborn was looked upon by the Normans as one of the greatest warriors of the age; and by the subjugated and suffering English as the powerful instrument of the Conqueror in oppressing their unhappy country, which he ruled with a rod of iron.

GREAT SEAL OF WILLIAM I.

Discontents and complaints multiplied rapidly during the absence of William, and secret conspiracies were entered into against the government. The Norman historians throw the blame of these proceedings on the fickle, turbulent spirit of the English, who, doubtless, when they began to recover from their panic and surprise, felt ashamed of having yielded so tamely to the enemy. The inhabitants of Kent, who had been the first to acknowledge him, were also the first to attempt to shake off the yoke, and, assisted by Eustace, Count of Boulogne, endeavoured to surprise the castle of Dover, but failed. Edric the Forester, being pressed by the ravages committed by the Normans on his lands, entered into an alliance with two Welsh princes to repel force by force. A secret conspiracy was gradually formed throughout England to get rid of the Normans by a general massacre, like that perpetrated on the Danes. So strong were the feelings of the Saxons, that the vassals of Earl Copsige, on the refusal of that noble to lead them against the invaders, put him to death as a traitor to his country.

The king, informed of these proceedings, hastened over to England, and by his sudden appearance disconcerted the machinations of his new subjects. Those who were most compromised in these transactions betrayed their fears by flight, and William confiscated their estates, which he bestowed upon his Norman followers. The inhabitants of Exeter, however, instigated by Gytha, mother to King Harold, refused to admit a Norman garrison; and betaking themselves to arms, were strengthened by the assistance of the neighbouring inhabitants of Devonshire and Cornwall. The king hastened with his forces to chastise this revolt; and on his approach, the wiser and more considerable citizens, sensible of the unequal contest, persuaded the people to submit, and to deliver hostages for their obedience. A sudden mutiny of the populace broke this agreement; and William, appearing before the walls, ordered the eyes of one of the hostages to be put out, as an earnest of the severity which the rebels might expect if they persevered in their revolt. The inhabitants, undaunted by this savage act, refused to surrender, and sustained the attack of the king's forces for eighteen days, during which the besiegers suffered heavy loss. When the city at length was taken, the brave men of Exeter obtained terms by which their lives and property were secured to them. William then proceeded to conquer Gloucestershire and Worcestershire.

Although Fortune appeared to lavish her smiles upon the Conqueror, bitter discontent was brooding in the hearts of the English, who saw themselves stripped one by one of their liberties and privileges, and whenever they met with the Normans in small parties the people set on them and slew them without mercy. An insurrection at last broke out in the north of England, headed by the Earls Morcar and Edwin, who bitterly regretted their short-sighted policy in not having supported Edgar Atheling on the throne. Before appealing to arms, these powerful nobles had secured the assistance of the Welsh; of Malcolm, King of Scotland; and of Sweyn, King of Denmark. Edwin was opposing the King because the latter, who had promised his daughter to the earl in marriage, would not keep his word.

William knew the importance of celerity in quelling a revolt, especially when supported by such powerful leaders. He advanced, therefore, with rapid marches towards the north. On his way he gave orders to fortify Warwick Castle, which he committed to the government of Henry de Beaumont, one of his nobles; while Nottingham Castle was entrusted to William Peverell, another Norman leader. Using the utmost expedition, the Conqueror reached York before the promised succour had arrived or the English were prepared for resistance; the city threw open its gates to the Conqueror. "Their submission was received," as Lingard says, "with a promise of forgiveness, and a resolution of vengeance." The king at this time fortified several castles in different parts of the country, and thus securing possession of the military power, left Edwin and Morcar, whom he pretended to spare, destitute of all support, and the two earls had no other resource than to appeal to William's clemency. A peace which he made with Malcolm, who did him homage for Cumberland, seemed at the same time to deprive them of all prospect of foreign assistance. Edgar Atheling, dreading the unscrupulous policy of William, yielded to the advice of Cospatrick, a powerful Northumbrian noble, and fled with him, accompanied by his mother Agatha and his two sisters Margaret and Christina, to Scotland, where they were hospitably received by Malcolm, who soon afterwards espoused the former princess—the latter became a nun.

In 1069 the English made their final effort of resistance. Godwin, Edmund, and Magnus, three sons of Harold, had, immediately after the defeat at Hastings, sought a retreat in Ireland, where, having met with a kind reception from Dermot and other princes of that country, they projected an invasion of England; and they hoped that all the exiles from Denmark, Scotland, and Wales, assisted by forces from these several countries, would at once commence hostilities, and rouse the English against their haughty conquerors. They landed in Devonshire, but found Count Brian of Brittany, at the head of some foreign troops, ready to oppose them, and, being defeated in several actions, they were obliged to retreat to their ships, and return to Ireland.

The efforts of William, however, were now directed to the north, where affairs had fallen into the utmost confusion. Robert de Comines, the newly-appointed Earl of Durham, was surprised in the town by the exasperated people, and put to death, with the whole of his followers. This success animated the inhabitants of York, who, rising in arms, besieged in the castle William Malet, their governor. William, however, soon put down the rebellion, built a second castle, and then retired southwards. In September the Danish troops landed from 240 vessels; Osberne, brother of King Sweyn, was entrusted with the command of these forces, and he was accompanied by Harold and Canute, two sons of that monarch; Edgar Atheling appeared from Scotland, and brought along with him Cospatrick, Waltheof, Siward, and other leaders, who, partly from the hopes which they gave of Scottish succours, and partly from their authority in those parts, easily persuaded the warlike and discontented Northumbrians to join the insurrection. Malet, that he might better provide for the defence of the citadel of York, set fire to some houses which lay contiguous; but this expedient proved the immediate cause of his destruction. The flames, spreading into the neighbouring streets, reduced the whole city to ashes. The enraged inhabitants, aided by the Danes, took advantage of the confusion to attack the castle, which they carried by assault, and put the garrison, consisting of three thousand men, to the sword. This success gave the signal for the inhabitants of many other parts of England to show their hatred of the Normans. Hereward, a noble of East Anglia, assembled a considerable force, and taking a position on the island of Ely, made successful incursions in the country round him. The English, in the counties of Somerset and Dorset, rose in arms and assaulted the castle of Montacute, while the warlike inhabitants of Cornwall and Devon laid siege to Exeter, which, from a grateful recollection of the clemency William had shown them, remained faithful to his interests. Edric the Forester laid siege to Shrewsbury, and made head against Count Brian and Fitz-Osborn. In short, the whole nation rose, like a man suddenly awakened from a dream, and seemed resolved to atone for the abjectness of its previous submission by a vigorous and well-organised resistance to its oppressors.

William, however, appeared undismayed by the storm lowering on every side around him. Calling his army together, he marched rapidly towards the north, where the rebellion appeared the most formidable, knowing that a defeat there would strike terror into the rest of the insurgents. Joining policy with force, he made a separate treaty with the Danes, offering them, as the price of their withdrawal into Denmark, permission to plunder and ravage the sea-coasts. Cospatrick also, despairing of success, paid to the Conqueror a large sum to be received once more into favour; he was afterwards invested with the earldom of Northumberland as the price of his submission. The King of Scotland arrived too late with his succours, and found himself obliged to retire; and all the insurgents in various parts of the country either dispersed or laid down their arms, with the exception of the East Anglian noble Hereward, who still kept possession of the island of Ely. Edgar Atheling, finding himself unsupported, withdrew with his followers and friends once more into Scotland; and the kingdom, without any great battle being fought, once more submitted to the iron yoke of the Normans. Sensible of the restless disposition of the Northumbrians, William determined to incapacitate them ever after from giving disturbance; and he issued orders for laying entirely waste that fertile country, which for the extent of sixty miles lies between the Humber and the Tees. The houses were reduced to ashes by the merciless Normans; the cattle seized and driven away; the instruments of husbandry destroyed; and the inhabitants were compelled either to seek for subsistence in the southern parts of Scotland, or, if they lingered in England from a reluctance to abandon their ancient habitations, perished miserably in the woods from cold and hunger. The lives of 100,000 persons are computed to have been sacrificed to this stroke of barbarous policy, which, by seeking a remedy for a temporary evil, thus inflicted a lasting wound on the power and opulence of the nation. The subjugation of the English was completed by the conquest of Chester.

William next proceeded to replace Englishmen in the church by Normans. Amongst the English churchmen was Stigand, Archbishop of Canterbury, a man who by the greatness of his birth, the extent of his possessions, and the dignity of his office, was marked out as the first victim.

Not deeming it safe to violate the respect due to the primate, William waited the arrival of the Bishop of Sion, the legate of the Pope in England. It was not deference to the see of Rome alone which induced William to receive the Papal envoy, but the desire of using him for a political purpose which he had long meditated; and the legate consented to become the supporter of his tyranny. He summoned, therefore, a council of the prelates and abbots at Winchester; and being assisted by two cardinals, Peter and John, he cited before him Stigand, Archbishop of Canterbury, to answer for his conduct. The primate was accused of three crimes: the holding of the see of Winchester, together with that of Canterbury; the officiating in the pall of Robert, his predecessor; and the having received his own pall from Benedict IX., who was afterwards deposed for simony, and for intrusion into the Papacy. These crimes of Stigand were mere pretences, since the first had been a practice not unusual in England, and was never anywhere subjected to a higher penalty than a resignation of one of the sees; the second was a pure ceremonial; and as Benedict was the only pope who then officiated, and his acts were never repealed, all the prelates of the Church, especially those who lived at a distance, were excusable for making their applications to him. Stigand's ruin, however, was resolved on, and was prosecuted with great severity. The legate degraded him from his dignity; the king confiscated his estate, and cast him into prison, where he continued in poverty and want during the remainder of his life.

J. C. Dudley

PLAN OF A NORMAN CASTLE. (J. C. Dudley.)

Like rigour was exercised against the other English prelates. Ethelric, Bishop of Selsey, and Ethelmer, of East Anglia, were deposed by the legate, and imprisoned by the king. Many considerable abbots shared the same fate: Ethelwine, Bishop of Durham, fled the kingdom. Wulstan, of Worcester, a man of inoffensive character, was the only English prelate that escaped this general proscription. Brompton relates that the last-named bishop was also deprived of his dignities by the synod; but refusing to deliver his pastoral staff and ring to any but the person from whom he first received it, he went immediately to King Edward's tomb, and struck the staff so deeply into the stone that none but himself was able to pull it out; on which he was allowed to retain possession of his dignity. Aldred, Archbishop of York, who had crowned the Conqueror, died about the same time. He left his malediction, it is said, to William, on account of the wrongs he had inflicted on the people. The deposing of Stigand gave the king an opportunity of paying a long debt of gratitude to Lanfranc, a Lombard priest, by raising him to the vacant dignity. This abbot had been sent by him shortly after his marriage with Matilda to the court of Rome, to obtain the Papal dispensation for their union, it having been discovered, after the ceremony had taken place, that they were related within the prohibited degrees. The new archbishop showed himself exceedingly unbending where the prerogatives of the primacy were in question. After a long contest before the Pope, he compelled Thomas, a Norman monk, who had been appointed to the see of York, to acknowledge his superiority, a point which had hitherto been warmly contested between the occupants of the rival sees. The zeal of the new primate in supporting the interests of Rome met with great success. It is true that William, during his reign, rarely felt inconvenience from it, for with his strong hand and iron will he kept the Church in subjection to the Crown, and would allow none to dispute his sovereign will and pleasure. He prohibited his subjects from acknowledging any one for Pope whom he himself had not previously received: he required that all the ecclesiastical canons, voted in any synod, should first be laid before him, and be ratified by his authority; even bulls, or letters from Rome, could not legally be produced, till they received the same sanction; and none of his ministers or barons, whatever offences they were guilty of, could be subjected to spiritual censures till he himself had given his consent to their excommunication; also, while agreeing that the tax on every house, known as Peter's pence, should be paid to the Pope, William proudly refused to do him homage.

In order to secure the subjection of his new subjects, the Conqueror did not neglect the important means which the erection of castles or fortresses presented. Amongst others, he either built, or caused his chief vassals to build, those of Pevensey, Hastings, and the White Tower of London. The castles, or stone-built fortresses of England, previous to the Conquest, were few and inconsiderable. Those erected by the Romans had fallen into ruin; and although Alfred the Great had strengthened the defences of the country by upwards of fifty towers of defence, they had not been kept up by his successors; and to this neglect the speedy reduction of the country to the Norman yoke may, in a large measure, be attributed. There were no long and wearisome sieges to undertake; no position capable of holding an army in check for any length of time: all was left to the chance of an open battle.

At the period previous to the Conquest, the castles and places of strength were chiefly of wood. William determined to alter this, and speedily commenced the erection of his strongholds, and in process of time the great feudal barons followed his example.

In order to afford an idea of these structures, we shall, as briefly as possible, give a general idea of a Norman fortress or castle. It consisted of an enclosure, varying, according to the importance of its position, of from five to ten acres of land, and, where circumstances rendered it possible, was surrounded by a moat or artificial canal, on the edge of which was a strong wall enclosing a second wall. Between these was the first ballium, or outer court. Within the second wall, which surrounded the keep, or great tower, were storehouses for the garrison, and other offices, as well as lodgings for the troops. In the centre of the interior space stood the citadel, keep, or master tower, in which resided the governor, or feudal possessor; in his absence, the castellan inhabited it, exercising the same authority as his chief. This last edifice was generally erected on an artificial or natural mound. It contained the state apartments, together with the domestic offices, and, in the centre, below the foundations, the dungeons for prisoners of war and other captives, such as felons, who had fallen under the jurisdiction of the lord or governor. In many instances there were secret means of access to these prisons by narrow passages contrived in the walls. In advance of the moat stood the barbican, or outward defence, with a watch-tower, communicating with the interior by means of a drawbridge, which drew up from within, so as to be under the direction of the sentinel or guard. The entrance to the ballium, or outward court, was still further secured by a strong gate, defended by a portcullis, to be raised or lowered as occasion required, by means of strong iron chains and pulleys. The walls were further protected by battlements, perforated by loopholes, through which arrows could be discharged, and towers were planted at various distances. The outward walls were seldom less than seven feet in thickness, and those of the keep frequently as many as fifteen. Before the discovery of gunpowder and the invention of artillery, these strongholds might be considered impregnable; and when taken it was generally by famine, or through the treachery of some portion of the garrison. Figuratively speaking, they were so many Norman bridles to check the impatience of the half-broken English steed. The English had now the mortification to find that as William's authority increased it was employed in their oppression; that the scheme of subjection had been craftily planned, and was being relentlessly carried out, attended by every circumstance of indignity and insult calculated to wound the pride of a susceptible people.

The position of the two Earls Morcar and Edwin soon became intolerable; for, notwithstanding that they had stood aloof during the last insurrection of their countrymen, and maintained their allegiance, William treated them with disrespect; and the hungry adventurers who surrounded his court, while they envied the possessions of the English nobles, thought themselves entitled to despise them as slaves and barbarians. Sensible that with the loss of their dignity they had no longer any hope of safety, they determined, though too late, to assert the independence of their country. With this intention Edwin fled, but was killed while so doing; whilst his brother Morcar took refuge with the gallant Hereward, who still maintained himself in the Isle of Ely. The king, with his usual vigour, determined to subdue their stronghold; and for this purpose he caused a large number of flat-bottomed boats to be constructed, on which he placed his men, and surrounded it. He next caused a road to be made through the morass, two miles in length, and after a desperate attack obliged the English to surrender in 1071. Hereward, however, contrived to escape, by cutting his way, sword in hand, through the enemy, and carried on the war by sea against the Normans with such success, that William was glad to compromise with him by giving him back his estate and honours. The memory of Hereward, "England's darling," as he was called by his countrymen, long remained cherished in their hearts, and the exploits of the last hero of English independence were for many years a favourite theme of tradition and poetry.

The King of Scotland, in hopes of profiting by these convulsions, had fallen on the northern counties, but on the approach of William he retired; and when Malcolm re-entered his country he was glad to make peace, and to pay the usual homage to the English crown. To complete the Norman king's prosperity, Edgar Atheling himself, despairing of the success of his cause, and weary of a fugitive life, submitted to his enemy; and, receiving a decent pension for his subsistence, was permitted to live in England unmolested. But these acts of generosity towards the leaders were contrasted, as usual, by William's rigour against the inferior malcontents. He ordered the hands to be lopped off, and the eyes to be put out, of many of the prisoners whom he had taken in the Isle of Ely, and he dispersed them in that miserable condition throughout the country as monuments of his severity.

His attention was then turned to France. Herbert, the last count or chief of the province of Maine, bordering on Normandy, had bequeathed his lands to William, who had taken possession of them several years before the invasion of England. In 1073, the people of Maine, instigated by Fulk, Count of Anjou, rose in rebellion against William, and expelled the magistrates he had placed over them. The settled aspect of affairs in England afforded him leisure to punish this insult to his authority; but being unwilling to remove his Norman forces from the island, he carried over a considerable army, composed almost entirely of English; and joining them to some troops levied in Normandy, he entered the revolted province. The national valour, which had been so long opposed to him, was now exerted in his favour. Signal success attended the expedition. The men of Maine were beaten by the English, many towns and villages were destroyed, and the inhabitants tendered their submission to the Conqueror.

NORMAN AND SAXON ARMS.

But during these transactions (1074) the government of England was greatly disturbed, and that too by those very foreigners who owed everything to the king's bounty, and whose rapacious disposition he had tried in vain to satisfy. The Norman barons who had engaged with their duke in the conquest of England were men of independent spirit and strong will; and however implicit the obedience which they yielded to their leader in the field, it is possible that in more peaceful times they found it difficult to brook the imperious character and overbearing temper of the king. The discontent became general. Roger, Earl of Hereford, the son and heir of Fitz-Osborn, so long the intimate friend and counsellor of the king, had negotiated the marriage of his sister with Ralph the Wader, Earl of Norfolk. For some reason, now unknown, the alliance was displeasing to the king, who sent from Normandy to forbid it. The two earls, despite the prohibition, proceeded to solemnise the union; and, foreseeing the resentment of William, prepared for a revolt.

It was during the festivities of the nuptials that they broached their design to their numerous friends and allies assembled on the occasion, by complaining of the tyranny of the king; his oppressive conduct to the unfortunate English, whom they affected to pity; his insolence to men of noble blood; and the indignity of submitting any longer to be governed by a prince of illegitimate birth. All present, inflamed with resentment, shared in the indignation of the speakers, and a solemn compact was entered into to shake off the royal yoke. Even Earl Waltheof, who was present, expressed his approval of the conspiracy, and promised to assist it.

This noble was the last of the English who possessed any great power or influence in the kingdom. After his capitulation at York, he was received into favour by the Conqueror; had even married Judith, his niece; and had been promoted to the earldom of Nottingham. Cospatrick, Earl of Northumberland, having, on some new disgust from William, retired into Scotland—where he received the earldom of Dunbar from the bounty of Malcolm—Waltheof was appointed his successor in that important command, and seemed still to possess the confidence and friendship of his sovereign; but as he was a man of generous principles, and loved his country, it is probable that the tyranny exercised over the English lay heavy on his mind, and destroyed all the satisfaction which he could reap from his own grandeur and advancement. When a prospect, therefore, was opened of retrieving their liberty, he hastily embraced it; but after his cool judgment returned, he foresaw that the conspiracy of those discontented barons was not likely to prove successful against the established power of William; or, if it did, that the slavery of the English, instead of being alleviated by that event, would become more grievous under a multitude of foreign leaders, factious and ambitious, whose union or discord would be equally oppressive. Tormented with these reflections, he disclosed the plans of the conspirators to his wife Judith, of whose fidelity he entertained no suspicion; but who took this opportunity of ruining her confiding husband. She conveyed intelligence of the conspiracy to the king, and aggravated every circumstance which she believed would tend to incense him against Waltheof, and render him absolutely implacable. Meanwhile the earl, still dubious with regard to the part which he should act, discovered the secret in confession to Lanfranc, on whose probity and judgment he placed great reliance. He was persuaded by that prelate that he owed no fidelity to those rebellious barons, who had by surprise gained his consent to a crime; that his first duty was to his sovereign and benefactor, his next to himself and his family; and that, if he seized not the opportunity of making atonement for his guilt by revealing it, the temerity of the conspirators was so great, that they might give some other person the means of acquiring the merit of the discovery.

Waltheof, convinced by these arguments, went at once to Normandy, where William was then residing, and confessed everything to the king, who, dissembling his resentment, thanked him for his loyalty and love, but in his heart gave the earl no thanks for a confidence which came so late.

The conspirators, hearing of Waltheof's departure from England, concluded at once that they were betrayed, and instantly assembled in arms before their plans were ripe for execution, and before the arrival of the Danes, with whom they had secretly entered into an alliance. The Earl of Hereford was defeated by Walter de Lacy, who, supported by the Bishop of Worcester and the Abbot of Evesham, prevented him from passing the Severn, and penetrating into the heart of the kingdom. The Earl of Norfolk was defeated by Odo, the warlike Bishop of Bayeux, who sullied his victory by commanding the right foot of his prisoners to be cut off as a punishment for their treason. Their leader escaped to Norwich, and from thence to Denmark.

William, on his arrival in England, found that he had nothing left to do but punish the instigators and leaders of the revolt, which he did with rigour. Many were hanged; some had their eyes put out; others had their hands cut off, or were otherwise horribly mutilated. The only indulgence he showed was to the Earl of Hereford, who was condemned to lose his estate, and to be kept a prisoner during pleasure. The king appeared willing to remit the last part of the sentence, probably from the recollection of his father's services, and the dread of increasing the discontent of the Norman barons; but the haughty and unbending spirit of the earl provoked William to extend the sentence to a perpetual confinement.

Waltheof, being an Englishman, was not treated with so much humanity; though his guilt, always much inferior to that of the other conspirators, was atoned for by an early repentance. William, instigated by his niece Judith, as well as by his rapacious courtiers, who longed for the forfeiture of so rich an estate, ordered the thane to be tried, condemned, and executed. The English, who considered Waltheof as the last hope of their nation, grievously lamented his fate, and fancied that miracles were wrought by his relics, as a testimony of his innocence and sanctity.

Nothing remained to complete William's satisfaction but the punishment of Ralph the Wader and he hastened over to Normandy in order to gratify his vengeance on that criminal; but though the contest seemed very unequal between a private nobleman and the King of England, Ralph was so well supported both by the Count of Brittany and the King of France, that William, after besieging him for some time in Dol, was obliged to abandon the enterprise, and make with those powerful princes a peace in which Ralph himself was included. England, during his absence, remained in tranquillity, and nothing remarkable occurred, except two ecclesiastical synods, which were summoned, one at London, another at Winchester. In one of these the precedency among the episcopal sees was settled, and the seat of some of them was removed from small villages to the most considerable town within the diocese.

William to the end of his reign no longer had any serious difficulties to contend with from the English, the national spirit being broken and subdued beneath his iron yoke. The conspiracies which ensued were now those of the Normans, and the partial insurrections that took place were instigated chiefly by private vengeance against some local oppressor.

In one of these insurrections perished Walcher, Bishop of Durham, a prelate originally from Lorraine, and elevated by the new king to the see of St. Cuthbert. Historians who have written of this remarkable man agree in describing him as no less distinguished for his attainments than for the excellence of his moral character: he was good but feeble, and lacked the energy necessary to restrain the evil-doers in the troublesome times in which he lived. His tragic death is said to have been predicted by the widow of Edward the Confessor, who resided at Winchester, where the bishop was consecrated. When she saw him conducted in pomp to the cathedral, struck by his venerable air and majestic demeanour, she exclaimed to those around her, "Behold a noble martyr!"

On the death of Waltheof, the government of Northumberland was confided by William to this venerable prelate, who thus united in his hands the temporal as well as the spiritual power. He promptly devoted himself to the restoration of monasteries throughout the diocese.

His own disposition being good, he suspected no ill in others; and giving much time to study, delegated a large share of his authority to one Gilbert, a relation, an ecclesiastic of ardent character, who committed great crimes and exactions, and permitted the soldiers to pillage and slay the inhabitants of the diocese without listening to their prayers for redress. It was in vain that the good bishop tried to temper the harshness of this man by associating with him his archdeacon, one Leobwine, who sided with Gilbert in all his exactions; or took to his councils a noble Englishman, Ligulf, uncle to the deceased Waltheof. The two tyrants disregarded the remonstrances of Ligulf, and continued their career of crime and oppression. At length Leobwine, enraged at Ligulf's expostulations, demanded his life of his confederate Gilbert, who entered the house of the Saxon, and slew him with most of his followers.

The murdered man not only held vast possessions, but was highly esteemed on account of the justness of his character; and the crime aroused such unusual indignation that the people, excited by his relatives and friends, flew to arms, demanding vengeance on the criminals. The bishop, in an agony of fear, sent messengers to say that justice should be done; that he should place out of the pale of the law Gilbert and his accomplices; that he himself was innocent of the death of Ligulf, and offered to purge himself by oath of all suspicion of the deed. This offer was accepted, and the two parties met at a church near Durham, a ferocious and armed multitude on one side, frantic for vengeance. They had seen, they said, the assassins received and sheltered in the episcopal palace directly after the commission of the crime.

Walcher, alarmed by their cries, refused to trust himself amongst them, but offered to take the oath in the church, where he was surrounded, together with the actual murderers. In the midst of the tumult, the Saxon cry of "Short rede—good rede," signifying "Short words—good words," was raised, and their leader called out, "Slay the bishop!" The multitude, delighted with the order, rushed to the sacred edifice, and attempted to set it on fire. In this peril the prelate commanded Gilbert, who had actually committed the offence, to quit the church, lest, as he said, the innocent should perish with the guilty; he obeyed, and was speedily torn in pieces by the English. Leobwine refused to quit the place, which he vainly hoped would shelter him, although the flames had begun to penetrate in every part. Then it was the bishop took the resolution of quitting the building, in the hope that the lives of his companions might be spared. Covering his face with his mantle, he advanced amongst the crowd, but soon fell, pierced by a hundred wounds. Leobwine, and those who were with him, perished in the flames.

Excited by this success, the insurgents returned to Durham, and attempted to become masters of the citadel of the murdered bishop; but the garrison, which was composed of Normans, beat them off, and they dispersed themselves in the neighbouring country.

No sooner did the report of this insurrection reach the ears of Odo, the grand justiciary of the kingdom, than he marched towards Durham with a strong body of men to restore order. Incensed at the death of his brother prelate, he gave licence to his soldiery to ravage and destroy. The horrors that ensued were fearful. Whenever an Englishman was met with he was put to death, with circumstances of appalling barbarity. This scene of horrors took place in 1080, and fell with double hardship on the inhabitants, who had not yet recovered from the incursion which Malcolm, King of Scotland, had made a short time previously in the province.

William resolved to chastise the Scots once more, and for that purpose entrusted the command of an expedition to his eldest son Robert. But on the arrival of the prince in Northumbria, he no longer found an enemy to oppose him, Malcolm and his troops having retired into their own country. The only result, therefore, of the enterprise was the founding of the town of Newcastle upon the banks of the river Tyne.

The following year the king marched into Wales in person, with numerous forces, and overran a considerable portion of the country, delivering, in the course of his progress, upwards of 300 English, whom the Welsh had enslaved. From this excursion he was speedily recalled by a confederacy entered into against him by the Danes, whose king, Canute the Younger, laid claim to the crown of England, and with this intention entered into an alliance with Olaf, King of Norway, and with his brother-in-law Robert, Count of Flanders, who promised him a succour of 600 vessels. William felt the utmost alarm at this alliance, which seriously menaced his throne, and he enlisted under his banners a crowd of mercenaries from every part of Europe, whom he paid by the enormous contributions wrung from his English subjects. The Danish invasion, however, never took place, through the death of Canute and dissensions among the other leaders.

Although released from external menaces, it was not permitted to the Conqueror to enjoy repose in the last years of his eventful reign. Ordericus Vitalis, in speaking of him, says, "He was afflicted by the just judgment of God. Since the death of Waltheof, whom he had so unjustly punished, he had neither repose nor peace, and the astonishing course of his success was poisoned by the troubles which those related to him occasioned."

When William first received the submission of the province of Maine, he had promised the inhabitants that his eldest son Robert should be their prince, and before he undertook the expedition against England he had, on the application of the French court, declared him his successor in Normandy, and had obliged the barons of that duchy to do him homage as their future sovereign. By this artifice, he had endeavoured to appease the jealousy of his neighbours, as affording them a prospect of separating England from his dominions on the Continent; but when Robert demanded of him the execution of those engagements, he gave him an absolute refusal, and told him, according to the homely saying, that he never intended to throw off his clothes till he went to bed. Robert openly declared his discontent; and was suspected of secretly instigating the King of France and the Count of Brittany to the opposition which they made to William, and which had formerly frustrated his attempts on the town of Dol; and, as the quarrel still augmented, Robert proceeded to entertain a strong jealousy of his two surviving brothers, William and Henry (for Richard was killed in 1081, while hunting, by a stag), who by greater submission and complaisance had acquired the affections of their father. In this disposition on both sides, a small matter sufficed to produce a rupture between them.

The three princes residing with their father in the castle of l'Aigle in Normandy, were one day engaged in sport together; and after some mirth and jollity, the two younger threw some water over Robert, as he passed through the court on leaving their apartment—a frolic which he would naturally have regarded as innocent, had it not been for the suggestions of Alberic de GrÆntmesnil. This young man persuaded the prince that the act was meant as a public affront, which it behoved him in honour to resent; and the choleric Robert, drawing his sword, ran upstairs, with an intention of taking revenge on his brothers. The whole castle was filled with tumult, which the king himself, who hastened from his apartment, found some difficulty in appeasing. He could by no means calm the resentment of his eldest son, who, complaining of his father's partiality, and fancying that no proper atonement had been made for the insult, left the court that very evening, and hastened to Rouen with the intention of seizing the citadel of that place. Disappointed in this attempt by the precaution and vigilance of Roger of Ivry, the governor, he fled to Hugh of NeufchÂtel, a powerful Norman baron, who gave him protection in his castles; and he levied war openly against his father. The popular character of the prince, and a similarity of manners, engaged all the young nobility of Normandy and Maine, as well as of Anjou and Brittany, to take part with him; and it was suspected that Matilda, his mother, whose favourite he was, supported him in his rebellion by secret remittances of money, which so enraged her husband that, despite the affection he is known to have borne her, he is said to have beaten her with his own hand.

All the hereditary provinces of William were convulsed by this war, and he was at last compelled to draw an army from England to assist him. These forces, led by his ancient captains, soon enabled him to drive Robert and his adherents from their strongholds, and re-establish his authority; the rebellious son himself being driven to seek a retreat in the castle of Gerberoi, which the King of France, who had secretly fomented these dissensions, placed at his disposal. In this fortress he was closely besieged by his angry father, and many encounters took place in the sorties made by the garrison. In one of these Robert engaged the king without knowing him, wounded him in the arm, and unhorsed him. On William calling out for assistance, his son recognised his voice, and, filled with horror at the idea of having so nearly become a parricide, threw himself at his feet, and asked pardon for his offences. So says Florence of Worcester, while other accounts represent William as having been rescued by his attendants. The entreaties of the queen, and other influences, soon afterwards brought about a reconciliation; but it is thought the Conqueror in his heart never forgave his son, although he afterwards took Robert to England. This occurred previous to the expedition recorded on the preceding page, in which he sent his son to oppose the King of Scotland.

The tranquillity which now ensued gave William leisure to begin an undertaking which proves the comprehensive nature of his talents. This was a general survey of all the lands in the kingdom in 1081; their extent in each district; their proprietors, tenures, value; the quantity of meadow, pasture, wood, and arable land which they contained; and in some counties the number of tenants, cottagers, and slaves of all denominations who lived on them. He appointed commissioners for this purpose, who entered every particular in their register by the verdict of juries, and after a labour of six years (for the work was so long in finishing), brought him an exact account of all the landed property in England. This monument, called Domesday Book—the most valuable piece of antiquity possessed by any nation—is still preserved in the Exchequer. It was followed by a great Witena-gemot at Salisbury, attended, it is said, by some sixty thousand men, who all swore obedience to the king "against all other men."

William, in common with all the great men of the time, was passionately addicted to the chase; a pastime he indulged in at the expense of his unhappy subjects. Not content with the royal domains, he resolved to make a new forest near Winchester, his usual place of abode, and for this purpose laid waste a tract of country extending above thirty miles, expelling the inhabitants from their houses, and seizing on their property, without affording them the least compensation; neither did he respect the churches and convents—the possessions of the clergy as well as laity being alike confiscated to his pleasures. At the same time he enacted penalties more severe than had hitherto been known in England, against hunting in any of the royal forests. The killing of a deer, wild boar, or hare, was punished by the loss of the offender's eyes—and that at a time when the slaying of a fellow-creature might be atoned by the payment of a fine. The death of William's son Richard there, and afterwards of William Rufus, were regarded as judgments from heaven for the sacrilege committed in the making of the forest.

The transactions recorded during the remainder of this reign may be considered more as domestic occurrences which concern the prince, than as national events which regard England. Odo, Bishop of Bayeux, the king's uterine brother, whom he had created Earl of Kent, and entrusted with a great share of power during his whole reign, had amassed immense riches; and, agreeably to the usual progress of human wishes, he began to regard his present acquisitions as but a step to further grandeur. He had formed the chimerical project of buying the papacy; and though Gregory, the reigning pope, was not of advanced years, the prelate had confided so much in the predictions of an astrologer, that he reckoned on the pontiff's death, and on attaining, by his own intrigues and money, that envied state of greatness. Resolving, therefore, to go to Italy with something like an army, he had persuaded many barons, and among the rest Hugh, Earl of Chester, to take the same course, in hopes that when he should mount the Papal throne, he would bestow on them more considerable establishments in that country. The king, from whom all these projects had been carefully concealed, at last got intelligence of the design, and ordered Odo to be arrested. His officers, from respect to the immunities which the ecclesiastics now assumed, scrupled to execute the command, till the king himself was obliged in person to seize him; and when Odo insisted that he was a prelate, and exempt from all temporal jurisdiction, William replied that he arrested him not as Bishop of Bayeux, but as Earl of Kent. He was sent prisoner to Normandy, and, notwithstanding the remonstrances and menaces of Gregory, was kept in confinement during the remainder of William's reign.

William was detained upon the Continent some time after this affair by a quarrel which, in 1087, broke out between himself and his suzerain the King of France, concerning the possession of the border district called the Vexin. His displeasure was also increased by some railleries which had been thrown out against his person. The king had grown remarkably stout, and been detained for some time on a bed of sickness. Philip, hearing of this, expressed his surprise that his brother of England should be so long at his lying-in, but that no doubt there would be a fine churching when he was delivered. The Conqueror, enraged at the insulting jest, sent him word that, as soon as he was up, he would be churched in Notre Dame, and present so many lights—alluding to the Catholic custom—as would give little pleasure to the King of France. Immediately on his recovery he kept his word; for, gathering an army, he led his forces into L'Isle de France, laying everything waste with fire and sword in his passage, and took the town of Mantes, which he reduced to ashes.

This career of conquest, however, was cut short by an accident which afterwards cost William his life. His horse starting on a sudden, caused him to bruise his stomach severely against the pommel of his saddle. Being advanced in years, he began to apprehend the consequences, and ordered himself to be conveyed to the monastery of St. Gervais in Rouen. Finding his end approaching, he perceived the vanity of all human greatness, and began to feel the most bitter remorse of conscience for the cruelties he had practised, the desolation he had caused, and the innocent blood he had shed during his reign in England; and by way of atonement gave great gifts to various monasteries. He also commanded that Earl Morcar and other English prisoners should be set at liberty. He was now prevailed upon, though not without reluctance, to release his brother Odo, against whom he was terribly incensed.

He left Normandy and Maine to his eldest son Robert, whom he had never forgiven for his rebellion against him. He wrote to Lanfranc, the primate, desiring him to crown William King of England, and bequeathed to his son Henry five thousand pounds of silver, foretelling, it is said, that he would one day surpass both his brothers in greatness.

He died at Rouen, on the 9th of September, 1087, in the sixty-first year of his age, the twenty-first of his reign over England, and fifty-second over Normandy. Early in the morning the king heard the sound of a bell, and eagerly demanded what it meant. He was told that it sounded the hour of prime in the church of St. Mary. "Then," said he, "I commend my soul to my Lady, the mother of God, that by her holy prayers she may reconcile me to her son, my Lord Jesus Christ," and immediately expired.

From the events which followed the reader may judge of the unsettled nature of the time. The knights and prelates hastened to their respective homes to secure their property; the citizens of Rouen began to conceal their most valuable effects; the servants rifled the palace, and hurried away with the booty; and the royal corpse for three hours lay almost in a state of nudity on the ground. At length the archbishop ordered the body to be interred at Caen; and Herlwin, a neighbouring knight, out of compassion, conveyed it at his own expense to that city.

At the day appointed for the interment, Prince Henry, the Norman prelates, and a multitude of clergy and people, assembled in the church of St. Stephen, which the Conqueror had founded. The mass had been performed, the corpse was placed on the bier, and the Bishop of Evreux had pronounced the panegyric of the deceased, when a voice from the crowd exclaimed, "He whom you have praised was a robber. The very land on which you stand is mine. By violence he took it from my father; and in the name of God I forbid you to bury him in it." The speaker was Ascelin Fitz-Arthur, who had often, but fruitlessly, sought reparation from the justice of William. After some debate the prelates called him to them, paid him sixty shillings for the grave, and promised that he should receive the full value of his land. The ceremony was then continued, and the body of the king deposited in a coffin of stone.

William's character has been drawn with apparent impartiality in the Saxon Chronicle by a contemporary and an Englishman. That the reader may learn the opinion of one who possessed the means of forming an accurate judgment, we have transcribed the passage, retaining, as far as it may be intelligible, the phraseology of the original:—

"If any one wish to know what manner of man he was, or what worship he had, or of how many lands he were the lord, we will describe him as we have known him; for we looked on him, and some time lived in his herd. King William was a very wise man, and very rich, more worshipful and strong than any of his fore-gangers. He was mild to good men who loved God, and stark [stiff] beyond all bounds to those who withstaid his will. On the very stede [place] where God gave him to win England, he reared a noble monastery and set monks therein, and endowed it well. He was very worshipful. Thrice he bore his king-helmet every year when he was in England; at Easter he bore it at Winchester, at Pentecost at Westminster, and in mid-winter at Gloucester: and there were with him all the rich men all over England, archbishops and diocesan bishops, abbots and earls, thanes and knights. Moreover, he was a very stark man, and very savage; so that no man durst do anything against his will. He had earls in his bonds, who had done against his will; bishops he set off their bishoprics, abbots off their abbotries, and thanes in prison; and at last he did not spare his own brother Odo. Him he set in prison. Yet, among other things, we must not forget the good frith [peace] which he made in this land, so that a man that was good for aught might travel over the kingdom with his bosom full of gold without molestation; and no man durst slay another man, though he had suffered never so mickle evil from the other. He ruled over England; and by his cunning he was so thoroughly acquainted with it, that there is not a hide [a measure varying from 60 to 120 acres] of land of which he did not know both who had it, and what was its worth, and that he set down in his writings. Wales was under his wield, and therein he wrought castles: and he wielded the Isle of Man withal: and moreover, he subdued Scotland by his mickle strength. Normandy was his by kinn: and over the earldom called Mans he ruled; and if he might have lived yet two years, he would have won Ireland by the fame of his power, and without any armament. Yet, truly, in his time men had mickle suffering, and very many hardships. Castles he caused to be wrought, and poor men to be oppressed. He was so very stark. He took from his subjects many marks of gold, and many hundred pounds of silver; and that he took, some by right, and some by mickle might, for very little need. He had fallen into avarice, and greediness he loved withal. He let his lands to fine [money payment] as dear as he could; then came some other and bade more than the first had given, and the king let it to him who bade more. Then came a third and bid yet more, and the king let it into the hands of the man who bade the most. Nor did he reck how sinfully his reeves [bailiffs] got money of poor men, or how many unlawful things they did. For the more men talked of right law, the more they did against the law. He also set many deer friths [forests]; and he made laws therewith, that whosoever should slay hart or hind, him man should blind. As he forbade the slaying of harts, so also did he of boars. So much he loved the high deer, as if he had been their father. He also decreed about hares, that they should go free. His rich men moaned, and the poor men murmured; but he was so hard that he recked not the hatred of them all. For it was need they should follow the king's will withal, if they wished to live, or have lands or goods, or his favour. Alas, that any man should be so moody, and should so puff up himself, and think himself above all other men! May Almighty God have mercy on his soul, and grant him forgiveness of his sins!"

The king was of ordinary stature, but inclined to corpulency. His countenance wore an air of ferocity, which, when he was agitated by passion, struck terror into every beholder. The story told of his strength at one period of his life almost exceeds belief. It is said that, sitting on horseback, he could draw the string of a bow which no other man could bend even on foot.

Harsh and repulsive in its main features though the government of William was, it was of great service to England, in that it was firm and equal. The Conqueror would allow no one to oppress but himself; and so the country was spared the establishment of petty baronial tyrants throughout the land, with the necessary accompaniments of private warfare and constant rebellion. The English, on the other hand, were taught by the great Witena-gemot at Salisbury to look to the sovereign, not to any local potentate, for redress of wrongs; it was upon them that William relied when it was necessary to chastise the rebellious adventurers who had accompanied him across the channel. His rules of law were not inequitably fitted to the wants of a mixed population, and beneath their iron discipline the nation educated itself by suffering, and learnt to become united and self-reliant. The Church also gained considerably by his reforms. Its provincialism was corrected, and it was brought in contact with western Christendom. The establishment of the supremacy of Canterbury over York was also a great step in the direction of ordered ecclesiastical government. At the same time, as we have seen, both papal and ecclesiastical pretentions were carefully kept in check, and during the Conqueror's reign no collisions between Church and State disturbed the peace of the realm. His establishment of separate ecclesiastical courts to try ecclesiastical cases threw open the door to many abuses, which, however, did not come to a head until the time of Henry II. It may be mentioned, by the way, that the word Conqueror was not used in those times in its present acceptance, but meant "The Gainer." William invariably professed to regard himself not as a usurper, but as a lawful heir to the English throne.

King William had issue, besides his three sons who survived him, five daughters, namely—1. Cicely, a nun in the monastery of FÉcamp, afterwards abbess in the Holy Trinity at Caen, where she died in 1127. 2. Constantia, married to Alan Fergent, Count of Brittany: she died without issue. 3. Alice, contracted to Harold. 4. Adela, married to Stephen, Earl of Blois, by whom she had four sons—William, Theobald, Henry, and Stephen—of whom the eldest was neglected on account of the imbecility of his understanding. 5. Agatha, who died a virgin, but was betrothed to the King of Galicia: she died on her journey thither, before she joined her bridegroom.