XII. THE REIGN OF WILLIAM I…

XII. 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.

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.

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.

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.

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XIII. REIGN OF WILLIAM II

William's Surname--How he obtained the Throne--Rising in favour of his Brother, Robert--Bishop Odo's Ill-fortune--Surrender of Rochester Castle--Flight of Odo--Failure of the Conspiracy--Death of Lanfranc--William's Misrule--Randolf the Firebrand--Appointment of Anselm to Canterbury--Rufus invades Normandy--Treaty between the Brothers--Siege of Mount St. Michael--Malcolm Canmore's Inroad into England--Building of Castle at Carlisle--Death of Malcolm--Illness of William--His Treachery towards Robert--Welsh Marauders--Earl Mowbray's Hard Fortune--The King's Exactions--He obtains possession of Normandy--The Hunt in the New Forest--Death of the Red King.

William, whose surname of Rufus was derived from the ruddiness of his countenance, no sooner found himself in possession of his father's letter to the primate Lanfranc, than he fled from the monastery of St. Gervais, where William was dying, and hastened to England, in order to secure possession of the crown.

Sensible that an act so opposed to the laws of primogeniture and the feudal rights might meet with great opposition from the nobles, he trusted to his celerity for success, and reached the kingdom before the news of the king's death arrived. Pretending orders from the dead monarch, he secured the strong fortresses of Dover, Pevensey, and Hastings. On his arrival a council of prelates and barons was summoned to proceed to the election of a sovereign. Robert, who would naturally be chosen, and his partisans, were in Normandy, while William and his adherents were on the spot. Besides, Archbishop Lanfranc, who felt himself bound to obey the last injunction of his benefactor William, exerted the whole influence of the Church in his favour. Three weeks after his father's death William II. was proclaimed king, and crowned with the usual formalities.

As we before stated, the Conqueror on his death-bed commanded the liberation of his half-brother, Odo, the Bishop of Bayeux. That warlike prelate, who had recovered some portion of his possessions in Kent, had long been the enemy of Lanfranc. The prompt compliance of the archbishop with the letter of the deceased king led William at first to yield himself entirely to his directions. Odo therefore extended his hatred to his nephew, and he set himself accordingly to form a party in favour of the eldest brother, Robert, who was already in possession of the duchy of Normandy, as well as the county of Maine.

The great point he urged upon the nobles whom he enlisted in the cause of the last-named prince, was the fact that they held possessions in both countries, and that it would be much more prudent to hold their lands of one sovereign only. These representations were not without effect; and whilst the newly-crowned king held the festival of Easter, the barons, who had matured their plans, departed to raise the standard of revolt in various parts of the kingdom--Odo, in Kent; William, Bishop of Durham, in Northumberland; Geoffrey of Coutances, in Somerset; Roger Montgomery, in Shropshire; Hugh de Bigod, in Norfolk; and Hugh de Grantmesnil, in Leicester.

The rising which thus took place might have been formidable if the movements of the insurgents had been seconded by energetic action on the part of Robert. That pleasure-loving prince, who had promised to bring over an army from Normandy, once more sacrificed the prospect of a throne to his habitual indolence: and Odo waited in vain for the assistance which was to come across the channel. When at length single ships, with detachments of the invading forces, ventured from the Norman coast, they were intercepted and destroyed by English cruisers. The Norman attempt at invasion was abandoned, and the English insurgents were left to sustain the shock of the king's forces as best they might.

The first attacks of Rufus were directed against his uncle Odo of Bayeux. That fierce and turbulent bishop waited his coming at Pevensey, which he had fortified and garrisoned. This stronghold was taken after a siege of a few weeks, and Odo fell into the hands of Rufus, who set him at liberty, on condition of his taking a solemn oath to deliver up Rochester Castle into the king's possession, and to quit the country immediately afterwards.

Rochester Castle was held by Eustace, Count of Boulogne, one of the warmest partisans of Robert. When Odo arrived before the gates with the king's escort, and demanded in set form that the keys should be given up, the count took him prisoner with his guards. This was a stratagem by which Odo hoped to escape the accusation of perjury, while he continued his rebellious course of action against the king. As the real commander of the garrison, this truculent bishop sustained for many weeks the attacks of his royal nephew, who, with his united forces of English and Normans, laid siege to the castle. Defied by his own countrymen, the Red King turned for counsel and assistance to the English. He adopted a policy of conciliation towards those nobles of English blood who still retained any influence; he made liberal promises, which afterwards were only partially fulfilled, and he obtained their adherence to his cause. The king proclaimed the old English call to battle, "Let every man who is not a man of nothing,[5] whether he live in burgh or out of burgh, leave his house and come," and many Englishmen flocked to his standard.

At length the besieged were subdued by disease and famine, and compelled to capitulate. They sent to William, informing him of their desire, and demanding that they should be allowed to retain their lands and titles under his sovereignty. Rufus at first refused to grant such a permission; but the Norman troops in his army, who could not forget that the garrison of the castle were their countrymen, and many of whom may have had relatives or friends within the walls, made appeals to the mercy of the king. "We," they said, "who have been with thee in great dangers, entreat thee to spare our countrymen, who are thine also, and who have fought with thy father."[6]

After much entreaty, the king permitted the besieged to leave the town with their arms and horses. Not satisfied with this concession, Odo had the arrogance to demand that when the garrison quitted the castle the bugles of the king's troops should not sound in token of triumph, as was the custom in those days. Rufus replied angrily that he would not grant such a request for a thousand marks of gold.

The Norman adherents of Robert then passed out of the gates with ensigns lowered, and amidst the sounds of exultation from the king's troops. At the sight of Odo, a great clamour arose among the English soldiers. They remembered the thousand crimes of the soldier-bishop, and cried out that he was unfit to live. "Ropes! bring ropes!" they shouted; "hang the traitor bishop and his friends!" Such sounds as these from every side thundered in the ears of the prelate, and thus, pursued by curses, he left the country for ever.

Meanwhile the conspirators in another part of the kingdom had met with ill success. The Earl of Shrewsbury, and with him other Norman nobles, had collected an army, which was occupied in laying waste the surrounding country. The earl with his troops set out from Shrewsbury, plundering and burning towns and villages, and putting many of the inhabitants to the sword. The progress of this marauding force was stopped on its arrival before Worcester. The citizens, excited by a deep hatred of their Norman oppressors, closed the gates, and, conveying their wives and children into the castle, prepared for a desperate resistance. Headed by their bishop, who refused to go into the castle, but took the post of danger on the walls, they gave battle to the besiegers, and having watched their opportunity when part of the Norman forces were absent on one of their plundering expeditions, the citizens sallied forth upon the remainder, and cut many of them to pieces. These reverses proved fatal to the success of the conspiracy, and Rufus found little difficulty in dealing with the rest of the insurgent chiefs. Some he won to his side by promises; others, who still defied him, were quickly subdued, and were visited with various degrees of punishment, or made their escape into Normandy, with the loss of their estates. As soon as the insurrection was quelled, and all danger from that source was at an end, Rufus revoked the concessions he had made to his English subjects, and before long the English population were reduced to their previous condition of servitude and misery.

In the following year (1089) Lanfranc, Archbishop of Canterbury, died. If we compare the acts of his life with those of his contemporaries, and judge of his character with a due regard to the times in which he lived, we shall find his memory entitled to our respect. It is said of him that he was "a wise, politic, and learned prelate, who, whilst he lived, mollified the furious and cruel nature of King William Rufus, instructing to forbear such wild and outrageous behaviour as his youth was inclined unto."[7] The archbishop built various hospitals and almshouses, and recovered twenty-five manors which had been wrested from the see of Canterbury. One of these was a large estate which had been seized by Odo, and which that rapacious bishop was compelled to restore. Removed from the influence of Lanfranc, the king gave the rein to his debaucheries, and showed himself "very cruel and inconstant in all his doings, so that he became a heavy burden unto his people." He appointed no successor to the primacy, but kept the see of Canterbury vacant four years, seizing the revenues, and applying them to his own vicious purposes.

Rufus elevated to the offices of royal chaplain and chief minister of state a Norman priest, named Randolf, who had received the surname of Le Flambard, or the Firebrand. This man, who was of humble origin, was of bad character, ambitious, ready-witted, and a willing pander to the vices of the king. To raise money for his royal master's pleasures, he increased the burdens of the people; inflicted heavy fines in punishment of trifling offences; and caused a second survey of the kingdom to be made, raising the estimated value of estates, and increasing the royal revenues, at the expense of great suffering throughout the country. Contentions were continually occurring between the English and their oppressors. Everywhere the Normans showed themselves cruel and avaricious, trampling down the conquered race, and treating them as inferior beings. Flambard, who was Bishop of Lincoln, ruled his diocese with such tyranny that, as we read in an old chronicle, the inhabitants wished rather to die than live under his authority.

At length William, seized with remorse after an attack of illness, appointed Anselm, the Abbot of Bec, to the vacant archbishopric. Anselm was sorely unwilling. "You would yoke me," said he, "a poor feeble old sheep, with the savage bull." But he withstood the king with saintly patience, constantly inveighing against the corruption of the court, until, in 1097, he was forced to retire from the royal persecution to Rome.

Meanwhile the Norman fortresses of Albemarle, St. Valery, and others, were obtained possession of by various means, and were held in the name of King William; and Conan, a powerful burgess of Rouen, had entered into the conspiracy, and engaged to betray the capital into the hands of a lieutenant of Rufus. Robert at length was roused to the dangers which surrounded him, but finding himself without money to raise troops, he applied to Philip I., of France, for assistance. Philip responded to the call, and advanced with an army to the borders of Normandy: but Rufus sent him a sum of money as a bribe, and the French king returned at once to his own country.

Robert appealed to his brother Henry, whom he had placed some time before in possession of a portion of the Norman duchy, in return for a sum of £3,000 which Henry had advanced. Since that time frequent quarrels had occurred between them, and it is related that, on one occasion, Henry was arrested by the duke's orders, and kept for a short time in prison. However, on receiving Robert's request for succour, Henry came to Rouen, and rendered his brother important assistance. Reginald de Warrenne, the lieutenant of Rufus, was driven back and compelled to retreat: the burgess Conan was taken prisoner, and pushed by Prince Henry, with deliberate cruelty, through the window of a high tower in the cathedral.

Early in the year 1091, the Red King landed an English army in Normandy, and advanced into the country. Robert again applied to Philip of France who exerted himself to arrange a treaty of peace between the two brothers. By the provisions of this treaty, which was signed at Caen, the lands of Eu, Albemarle, Fécamp, and others, were assigned to Rufus; and it was agreed that no further attempt should be made by Robert upon the English throne. Robert was to be aided to conquer the districts of Maine and portions of Henry's territory in place of those which he resigned in Normandy, and William engaged to pardon those barons who had defended his brother's cause, and to restore to them their titles and lands. The barons of the two factions agreed that if the king survived the duke, he was to have possession of Normandy; and if the duke outlived the king, he should receive the English crown. This treaty was signed by twelve barons on each side, who swore to maintain its provisions.

Peace had been concluded between the two elder sons of the Conqueror; but it only produced war between Robert and Rufus, on the one side, and Henry on the other. Finding that his brothers were combining to despoil him, Henry seized St. Michael's Mount, a solitary rock on the coast of Normandy, and in this strong position he sustained a long siege from the combined armies of his kinsmen. An incident of the siege is related by some of the old chroniclers to the following effect:--The supply of water in the castle fell short, and the garrison were reduced to great distress from thirst. Robert, having been informed of this circumstance, sent a supply of wine to his brother Henry, and also permitted some of the people of the castle to fetch water. This conduct incensed William, who expressed his indignation at such generosity; but Robert replied that he could not suffer his brother to die of thirst. "Where," said he, "shall we get another brother when he is gone?" There is another story told of the same siege, from which it appears that on one occasion Rufus had a narrow escape from death. The king had ridden out alone to take a survey of the fortress, when he was suddenly attacked by two of Henry's soldiers, who struck him from his horse. One of the men was about to dispatch him, when Rufus called out, "Hold, knave! I am the King of England!" The soldier threw down his dagger, and raised him from the ground with professions of respect. It is related that Rufus rewarded the man with presents, and took him into his service.

According to some accounts, the besieging forces retired without having obtained possession of the fortress; but the more probable story, and that which rests on the better authority, is that Prince Henry was at length obliged to capitulate, and that he was deprived of all his estates. For two years he wandered about the Continent with a scanty escort and in great poverty. At length he obtained the government of the city of Domfront, and in that position he displayed much ability, and obtained considerable power in the surrounding country.

Meanwhile (1091) Malcolm Canmore had invaded England, and had penetrated "even to Chester." William sent an army to oppose him, and, according to some authorities, also fitted out a naval force, which was overtaken by a storm on the Scottish coast and destroyed.[8] The two armies met somewhere on the borders of Scotland, but the impending conflict was prevented by the efforts of Robert of Normandy, who had returned with William to England, and Edgar Atheling. A treaty of peace was concluded, by which Malcolm rendered homage to Rufus, as he had done to William the Conqueror, and was permitted to retain certain lands in Northumberland, of which he had become possessed.

Soon after (1093) Rufus gave directions for the building of a fortress at Carlisle, and having sent a number of English to inhabit the town, he bestowed on them many valuable privileges. This act, if not an infringement of the recent treaty with Malcolm, was at least a violation of the rights of that monarch. The earldom of Cumberland had been for centuries attached to the Scottish crown, and Malcolm demanded its restitution. A conference took place between the two kings, and Rufus having refused redress for the injury, Malcolm returned in haste to Scotland, and carried an army into Northumberland, burning and laying waste the country. Before Rufus could advance to meet him, the Scottish monarch had fallen into an ambush, and was killed, together with his eldest son, at Alnwick. It is related that when the news of the death of her husband and son was brought to Margaret, the Queen of Scotland, she bowed her head beneath the stroke, and died within four days afterwards.

William, after his return from Carlisle, fell sick at Gloucester; and being oppressed with the recollection of his many crimes, and probably deriving little comfort from the ghostly ministrations of Flambard, he gave signs of repentance, and promised on his recovery to amend his life. The repentance, however, passed away with the danger, and he is represented as having become from this time more cruel and debauched than before.

The king still withholding from his brother Robert the possessions which were his right, the duke returned to Normandy, and sent heralds to William, according to the usage of chivalry, denouncing him as a false and perjured knight, who held possession of lands which he had resigned by treaty. William went to Normandy to answer the charge, and agreed to submit to the decision of a court composed of the high Norman nobility. The award, however, being in favour of Robert, the Red King refused to abide by the decision, and, leading an army into Normandy, he defeated the adherents of the duke in several engagements.

Events followed each other closely resembling those which took place on William's previous expedition against his brother (1094). Robert, as before, made an appeal to Philip. The disputes between the sons of the Conqueror would seem to have been a source of considerable profit to the King of France, and his ready response to the call of Robert was probably less from a regard for his neighbour's welfare than from a view to his own interest. Rufus determined to buy him off as he had done before, and to obtain money for this purpose he devised a scheme in which he had the assistance of Randolf Flambard. He ordered a levy of 20,000 men in England, and when the troops arrived at Hastings to embark, it was announced to them that the king was willing to excuse them from the dangers of the campaign, and that each man would be permitted to return to his home on payment of ten shillings towards the expenses of the war. The money raised by this means was paid to Philip, who marched his forces back to France. The small and ill-appointed army of Robert would probably now have been overcome, had not affairs in England compelled Rufus to relinquish the contest.

The Welsh had taken advantage of the king's difficulties to invade the adjoining counties, and "after their accustomed manner,"[9] carried off the cattle, and plundered and murdered the inhabitants, many of whom they also made prisoners. They laid siege to the castle of Montgomery, and took it by assault, slaying all the garrison. William in 1095 marched hastily into Wales, but found it impossible to reach the marauders, who kept to the cover of the woods and marshes, and among the mountains, watching their opportunity to slay any of the English and Norman troops whom they could reach unawares. Rufus pursued them over the hills; but his march was attended with heavy loss to his army, and he was at length compelled to retreat, "not without some note of dishonour." Two other expeditions met with no better success. Thereupon he left the conquest of Wales to his nobles, whose eagerness was whetted by grants of land in the unconquered districts. An army was despatched under the command of the Earl of Shrewsbury, and the Earl of Chester, who re-took the isle of Anglesea, of which the Welsh had obtained possession.[10] The inhabitants were maltreated or put to the sword; but, having received some reinforcements, a battle ensued, in which the Earl of Shrewsbury was slain. The victory, however, was on the side of the Earl of Chester, who remained for some time in Wales, desolating the country.

While the Welsh were still unsubdued, Rufus received information of a powerful confederacy which had been formed against him in the north of England. The king had reason to suspect some of his nobles of disaffection, and especially Robert Mowbray, Earl of Northumberland, a powerful noble, whose long absence from court had excited suspicion. A royal proclamation was issued, calling upon every baron in the kingdom to appear at court at the approaching festival of Whitsuntide, on pain of outlawry. The Earl of Northumberland neglected to obey the summons, and the king immediately marched an army to Newcastle, where he surprised some of the earl's accomplices. He next besieged and took the castle of Tynemouth, and thence proceeded to Bamborough, an impregnable fortress, to which the Earl had retreated with his family.

After various unsuccessful attempts to take this castle by storm, Rufus, who seems to have inherited much of the military talent of his father, adopted another plan of attack. He built a wooden fort opposite Bamborough, calling it Malvoisin, or "bad neighbour"; and, having placed a garrison in it, he withdrew the rest of his army. His lieutenants were directed to use every opportunity of inflicting damage upon the adherents of Earl Mowbray, or of gaining possession of his person.

One night the earl quitted his castle with an escort of only thirty horsemen. The object with which he did so is variously stated; but the most probable account is that he was betrayed by some followers of Rufus, who offered to give up the town of Newcastle into his possession. The earl was surprised by a body of Norman troops, and while many of his retinue were cut to pieces, he escaped from his assailants, and took sanctuary at St. Oswin's monastery, Tynemouth. By the laws of chivalry, the blackest criminal was safe under the shadow of the Cross; but the soldiers of William were deterred neither by those laws, nor by any respect for the sacredness of the place. They pursued the earl to his sanctuary, and after a desperate resistance made him prisoner.

Having carried Earl Mowbray to Bamborough, and placed him before the gates of his castle, they demanded a parley with the Countess Matilda. On her appearance, they exhibited her husband as a prisoner, and told her that they would put out his eyes before her face unless she at once gave up the castle into their hands. Matilda is described as having been remarkable for her beauty; she was young, and had been married to the earl only a few months before. She did not long hesitate, but ordered the gates to be thrown open. Among the followers of Mowbray was one through whom Rufus gained a knowledge of the extent of the conspiracy, and of the persons implicated in it. The subsequent fate of Mowbray was that of a living death. His young wife had indeed saved him from blindness, but he was not the less deprived of the light of day. Condemned to perpetual imprisonment, he was confined in a dungeon at Windsor Castle, where we read that he dragged on existence for thirty years afterwards. Another account, however, has it that he ended his life as a monk.

The property of the banished nobles was plundered by the adherents of the king, and then left for some time uncultivated, and without owners. Nevertheless, the people of the town or hundred in which such estates lay, were compelled to pay the full amount of land tax as before. The king, also, forcibly raised troops of men to build a wall encircling the Conqueror's Tower at London, a bridge over the Thames, and, near the West Minster, a hall or palace of audiences, for the stated assemblies or assizes of the great barons.[11]

The money which William Rufus paid to his brother for the possession of Normandy was obtained by inflicting new burdens and exactions upon his people. "All this," says Holinshed, "was grievous and intolerable, as well to the spirituality as temporality, so that divers bishops and abbesses, who had already made away with some of their chalices and church jewels to pay the king, made now plain answer that they were not able to help him with any more; unto whom, on the other side, as the report went, the king said again, 'Have you not, I beseech you, coffins of gold and silver, full of dead men's bones?' meaning the shrines in which the relics of saints were enclosed."

The king also argued that there was no sacrilege in taking money obtained from such a source, for the purpose of prosecuting a holy war, and delivering the sepulchre of Christ from the hands of the infidel. He did not choose to remember that the expedition to the Holy Land was one in which he had no part, and that he required the money, not for that purpose, but to obtain a worldly possession. If the argument carried little weight, the force by which it was backed was not to be resisted, and the spoils of the altar, as well as the hoards of civilians, were seized in the king's name.

Robert, having resigned his dukedom, and set out for the Holy Land, William passed over into Normandy to take possession. He was received with welcome by the Norman nobles, who, if not well disposed towards their new sovereign were overawed by his power or bought by his gold. The people of Maine, however, rose in revolt, and, headed by Helie, the Lord of La Flèche, the insurrection assumed an importance which rendered it necessary for Rufus to take energetic measures for its repression. He entered Maine at the head of a large force, but on the interference of the Count of Anjou and Philip of France, he consented to a truce with the insurgents, and Helie, having been taken prisoner, was set at liberty, on tendering his submission, and giving up of Le Mans into the king's hands. (A.D. 1099.)

The people, however, remained disaffected towards the English king. A year passed away without any change in this state of things, when one day, as William was hunting in the New Forest, a messenger came to him with the intelligence that Helie had obtained possession of the town of Le Mans, that the inhabitants had joined him, and were besieging the castle, containing the Norman garrison. Rufus immediately set off for the sea-coast without waiting for an escort; and when some of his lords came up with him, as he was about to embark, they counselled him to wait until troops could be summoned to accompany him. William replied, "Such as love me, I know well, will follow me," and went at once on shipboard. A storm was blowing so violently that even the sailors hesitated to set sail; but the king was determined to proceed, and cried out to the master to weigh anchor, asking him if he had ever heard of a king that was drowned?

Rufus escaped the storm, and landed next day at Harfleur. When the news of his advance reached Le Mans the insurgents were struck with dismay. Helie, forgetting his knightly fame, and the safety of the people, disbanded his troops and fled at the mere sound of the enemy's approach, while William passed through the country, dealing ruin and desolation around him.

On his return to England, the king began, "after his old manner, to spoil and waste the country by unreasonable exactions," assisted by Randolf Flambard. Various public buildings, which were erected by Rufus, served as pretexts for demands of money, most of which was applied to satisfy his own private extravagance.

In the month of August, 1100, there was held, in the New Forest, a hunting meeting, at which the king was present. This district, where the blackened ruins of villages still remained, where the ground had been watered by the tears and the blood of the miserable inhabitants, murdered or driven from their homes, where the trees grew thickly in commemoration of a deed of cruelty which has but few parallels in history--this gloomy solitude was destined to be the death-scene of Rufus, as it had already been of two other persons of the Conqueror's blood. In the year 1081, Richard, the eldest son of William I., had been accidentally killed in the New Forest; and in May, 1100, Richard, son of Duke Robert and nephew of Rufus, was killed there accidentally by an arrow. In these successive calamities, the people thought they saw a retribution for the crime which had been committed in that place.

On August 2, the king and his court were assembled at Malwood Keep or Castle, preparing to go a-hunting. A large and noble company were there making merry, and at the side of the King sat Prince Henry--the two brothers having become reconciled some time before. Among the party was a Norman knight, whose name was Sir Walter Tyrrel, Lord of Poix. The company separated on arriving in the forest, as the custom was in hunting; the only person who remained near to the king being Sir Walter Tyrrel. As it drew towards evening a hart suddenly bounding from a thicket, crossed the path of the king. Rufus drew his bow, but the shot missed its mark. Tyrrel was placed at some little distance in the underwood, and the hart, being attacked on both sides, stood for a moment at bay. Then the king, who had spent all his arrows, called out to his companion, "Shoot! shoot! in the devil's name!" Tyrrel obeyed, and the arrow, glancing from a tree, struck the king in the breast, piercing him to the heart. Rufus fell beside his startled horse, and died instantaneously. Such is the story most commonly related of the death of the Red King, but the account is not to be received without reservation. The facts which may be considered fully authenticated are, that Rufus met with a violent death in the New Forest, having been shot in the breast by an arrow. Whether the bow was drawn "at a venture," or by the hand of a murderer--whether the hand was that of Tyrrel, or of another--are questions to which no positive answer can be given. Tyrrel, however, was suspected from the first of having killed the king. He immediately galloped away to the sea-coast, and took ship for Normandy, whence he proceeded to seek the protection of the King of France. On arriving there he swore he had no part in the death of King William; but in those days few men hesitated either to make or break an oath for a powerful motive, and, therefore, this circumstance of itself would not be sufficient to throw discredit on the account already related. The body of the king was discovered by a poor charcoal burner, by whom it was carried in a cart to Winchester Cathedral, where it was buried. He died without issue.

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XIV. THE FIRST CRUSADE

The Institution of Chivalry--Affairs in the Holy Land--Pilgrimages--Persecution of Christians--Peter the Hermit--Crusade Decided on--Progress of Peter's Mission--The Council of Clermont--Attitude of Pope Urban--The Truce of God--Expedition of Walter the Penniless--Excesses of the Crusaders--Defeat of the Christians by the Turks--Conduct of the Emperor Alexius--Disaster in Hungary--Geoffrey de Bouillon--March of his Army--Robert of Normandy and his Troops--Imprisonment of Hugh of Vermandois--Arrival of Godfrey before Constantinople--The Byzantine Court--The Church of Santa Sophia--Scenes of Magnificence--Reception of Godfrey by the Emperor--Tancred's Army leaves Italy--Bohemond's Submission--Count Raymond at Constantinople--Arrival of Robert of Normandy--Siege of Nicæa--Treachery of the Emperor--Severe Struggle with the Turks--Bravery of Robert--Flight of the Turks--Crusaders' Sufferings on their March--Siege and Fall of Antioch--Defeat of the Persians--Pestilence at Antioch--Arrival of the Crusaders before Jerusalem--Fall of the City--Vengeance of the Crusaders--Godfrey elected King of Jerusalem--Hospitallers and Templars--Close of the First Crusade.

In the year 1096 Robert determined to join a crusade then about to set out for the Holy Land, and to enable him to do so, he agreed to pledge his duchy of Normandy into the hands of Rufus for a sum of £6,666. This transaction is described by the historians as having been a mortgage for three years; but it must have been evident, even to the uncalculating mind of Robert, that he had little chance of regaining possession of his property at the end of that time.

To enable us to understand this extraordinary proceeding on the part of Robert, it will be necessary to examine the causes which led to those expeditions which are called the Crusades. These causes, which had been in operation for hundreds of years, were two, of very opposite nature--namely, in the East, the spread of Mahometan power; and in the West, the institution of chivalry, preceded by the introduction of Christianity.

The institution of chivalry had for its object the cultivation of those virtues which may be classed under the word manhood, in its best and widest sense. The true knight was supposed to be pious, truthful, and brave; a generous friend, a gallant warrior, a devoted lover. It was necessary for him to add great strength of body, and skill in all manly exercises, to gentleness of manner and culture of mind. Terrible in battle, it was his duty to wield the sword of justice, to strike down the oppressor; but to help the weak, and give his life, if need be, for the innocent.

The youth who aspired to knighthood began his career as a page in some noble house, where, under the gentle influence of women, he was taught various accomplishments, and imbued with that beautiful though fantastic dream of honour which he hoped to realise in his future life. At the age of fourteen the page became an esquire, and was permitted to wear a sword. He now began a regular course of training for arms, and usually sought to attach himself to some knight of fame, whom he attended in hall or field, and supported in battle. The young aspirant was admitted to the honours of knighthood at the age of twenty-one, unless he had previously won his spurs by some gallant feat of arms. This honour was of rare occurrence, as, by the laws of chivalry, the duties of esquire were limited to attendance upon his lord, and he was permitted few opportunities of personal distinction.

The original spirit of chivalry was essentially religious. The initiation into the order of knighthood was a religious ceremony, and usually took place on one of the feasts of the Church, as Easter day, the day of Pentecost, or Christmas day. The aspirant prepared himself for his new dignity by long vigils, fasts, and prayer; and on the night before the ceremony took place, he repaired alone to the church, where he passed the hours in watching beside his armour.

On the day appointed, high mass was performed in the presence of the nobles and bishops and an assembly of the people; and after the sword of the novice had been consecrated to the service of heaven, he took a solemn vow, according to the laws of chivalry, "to speak the truth, to succour the helpless and oppressed, and never to turn back from an enemy." The bishop then dubbed him a knight, and the other knights, and often the ladies present, advanced and armed the youth. The spurs were usually buckled on first, and thus came to be regarded as the symbol of knighthood.

Such was the form by which a young man was admitted to the highest dignity of chivalry. Chivalry recognised nothing higher or nobler than the condition of a knight, and the fame of every man, instead of being tied to his name by a title, was borne by the mouths of minstrels and palmers.

Various writers have attempted to fix the date at which chivalry first took its rise; but on this point there is no certain information. Probably the idea of chivalry was the growth of centuries, and made its way gradually through the corruptions of the times in which it was born. Whatever may have been its origin, the institution was in its infancy in the tenth and eleventh centuries, and received no marked development until the time of the first Crusade. The stories of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table[12] are as fabulous as the wonders of Merlin or the tales of the Arabian Nights. In the days of Charles the Great, chivalry, in the general sense of the word, was yet unborn; and though in the time of Alfred its spirit undoubtedly existed in our own country, it had yet assumed no name or distinctive form.

According to Tacitus, customs bearing a resemblance to those of chivalry existed among the German nations in the institution known as the comitatus. On the fall of Rome, these tribes subdued and colonised the country now called France, and it is probable that they planted there the germ of the institution of chivalry. The first traces of its existence in France appear soon after the time of Charles the Great. It originated with a few knights, who endeavoured to introduce among their licentious companions a love of virtue and honour. However small may have been the early success of their efforts, the principle of chivalry to which they gave expression shines like a star in those dark ages.

The laws of chivalry gradually became recognised and enforced, and were submitted to by every man who desired to win either the smiles of women or honourable fame among men. Refined and mystical as were the doctrines of chivalry, its laws were practical and severe, demanding mortification and self-denial. In later times the simple and austere habits of the knights were exchanged for luxury and licentiousness, and the spirit of chivalry decayed with the growth of those arts of life which conduce to ease and refinement.

Towards the end of the eleventh century, the attention of Europe was attracted to the state of affairs in the Holy Land, and chivalry, which had hitherto been rather a name than a reality, received from this cause a sudden and powerful impulse.

From the period of the destruction of the second temple, the history of Jerusalem had been a record of strife and bloodshed. During the early occupation of the city by the Romans, the holy places were profaned by pagan rites, and the spots venerated alike by Jew and Christian became the scene of sacrifices to heathen deities.

In the fourth century, when Rome herself acknowledged the doctrines of Christianity, churches were erected on the ruins of the temples of Venus and Jove, and Jerusalem was again regarded as the seat of the true faith. When Mahomet appeared and spread his new doctrines throughout the East, the aspect of affairs was once more changed, and the Holy City fell into the hands of the Arabians. In the year 969, the dominion of the caliphs of Egypt was established over the whole of Palestine.

In the following century a multitude of rude and savage races from the shores of the Caspian Sea invaded the lands of the people of the south. These hordes, called in history the Seljuk Turks, gradually extended their conquests, and between 1038 and 1092 obtained possession of Persia, Arabia, and the greater part of Syria. The invaders embraced the religion of Mahomet, and in many cases a fusion took place between them and the conquered nations. After various vicissitudes, Jerusalem, in 1076, fell into the hands of the Turkish supporters of the Caliph of Cairo.

In every age the Holy Land had been held in the highest veneration by the Christian nations. Pilgrims proceeded thither from the most distant parts of Europe, in the faith that the long and toilsome journey would secure for them some spiritual benefit. Dressed in the costume mentioned in the Bible, and carrying with him only a staff in his hand and a scrip at his side, the pilgrim trusted entirely to charity for support. Wherever the Christian religion prevailed among the people, that charity was exhibited; his character was held in veneration, and food and lodging were provided for him as a religious duty. At rare intervals along his way, he came to an hospital or almshouse, built for the reception of pilgrims by some Christian prince. On his return he placed in the church of his native town the branch of the sacred palm-tree[13] (which he had brought from Jerusalem), in proof of the accomplishment of his vow.

During the time that Palestine remained under Christian rule, these pilgrimages were performed without much danger, and devotees from all parts of Europe flocked to the Holy City. The coffers of the Church were enriched by the sale of relics, which each traveller eagerly desired to possess.

Under the sway of the Caliphs the pilgrimages continued, but the Christians were treated with indignity by the Turks, and various persecutions took place. In the tenth century a belief was entertained that the end of the world was at hand, and people of all classes hurried to Jerusalem in hope of a purification from their sins. In the eleventh century the persecutions of the Christians increased, and their condition became wretched in the extreme. They were, indeed, tolerated in the Holy City on payment of a tribute of two pieces of gold yearly, but their religious ceremonies were prohibited, their property was frequently plundered, and the honour of their daughters violated.

Since the fourth century it was generally believed that the very cross on which Christ suffered had been discovered at Jerusalem, and a curious drawing of this subject occurs in a Greek manuscript of the ninth century. This belief afforded an additional stimulus to the piety of devotees, and a piece of the sacred wood was regarded as of inestimable value. Pilgrims, therefore, still made their way to Jerusalem, but were not permitted to enter the city except on payment of a piece of gold--a large sum at that day. Few of the pilgrims possessed enough to satisfy this demand, and they were driven from the gates, with their long-deferred hope turned to utter despair. Many of them died from famine before the walls of the city; many more perished by the roadside, as they pursued their weary journey homewards; and but few survived to tell the tale to Europe, and to kindle the flame which was soon to burn up with fury.

The Christian emperors of the East are reported to have sent letters from time to time to the princes of Europe, detailing the sufferings of the Christians in Judea, and soliciting assistance. These appeals, together with the accounts of Turkish cruelties given by the returned pilgrims, caused a feeling of deep indignation throughout Europe, and aroused the spirit of chivalry.

At this time there appeared on the scene a remarkable man, who is known by the name of Peter the Hermit. In his youth he had been a soldier, and had been married, but subsequently he became a priest. He is described as having been small and mean in person, but with eyes powerful in expression, and an eloquent voice. He had long been noted for the austerity of his life, and it is said of him that he found pleasure in the greatest abstinence.

This man formed the determination of visiting Jerusalem, and having performed the journey in safety, he paid the piece of gold demanded, and was admitted into the city. Here he was a witness of the cruelties perpetrated upon the Christians, and was seized with horror and indignation at the sight. He held a conference with the Greek patriarch, who, at the suggestion of Peter, determined to write to the Pope and the princes of the West, describing the misery of the Christians, and praying for protection.

Furnished with his credentials, Peter returned to Italy and laid his complaint before Urban II. The tale told by the hermit was received with the deepest attention, and the Pope warmly espoused his cause. Urban gave his authority to the scheme of the Crusade, and with the promise of his co-operation, Peter set out to preach the delivery of the Holy Land throughout Europe.

The story of his progress is told by various writers of that age. "He set out," says Guibert Nogent, "from whence I know not, nor with what design; but we saw him at that time passing through the towns and villages, preaching everywhere, and the people surrounding him in crowds, loading him with presents, and celebrating his sanctity with such high eulogiums, that I never remember to have seen such honours paid to any other person. He showed himself very generous, however, in the distribution of the things given to him. He brought back to their homes the women that had abandoned their husbands, not without adding gifts of his own, and re-established peace between those who lived unhappily, with wonderful authority. In everything he said or did, it seemed as if there was something divine; so much so, that people went to pluck some of the hairs from his mule, which they kept afterwards as relics; which I mention here, not that they really were so, but only served to satisfy the public love of anything extraordinary. While out of doors he wore a woollen tunic with a brown mantle, which fell down to his heels. He had his arms and his feet bare, ate little or no bread, and lived upon fish and wine."

Such was the appearance of the man whose eloquence drew after him the whole of Europe. The records of history afford no other instance of events so stupendous, arising from a cause apparently so insignificant. The position of Peter, however, is not to be measured by his woollen garb and low estate. The fame of the anchorite had gone before him; he carried with him the Pope's authority; he was a palmer from Jerusalem, who had himself seen the things he described. The age was enthusiastic, and religious sentiment, as well as knightly ambition, was enlisted in the cause which he preached.

While Peter journeyed on from city to city, Urban called together a council at Placentia, at which deputies were present from the Emperor of Constantinople. The meeting being unanimous in favour of the Crusade, Urban determined to venture across the Alps. A Council was held in 1095 at Clermont, in Auvergne, at which were assembled bishops and princes, both of France and Germany, and a vast concourse of people. After the less important business of the meeting had been transacted, Urban came forth from the church in which the Council was held, and addressed the multitude in the market-place. He recounted the long catalogue of wrongs suffered by the Christians in the Holy Land from the pagan[14] race. With an eloquence for which he was remarkable, he appealed to the most powerful passions which animate the breast of mankind; and the assembly rose up and cried with one voice--"It is the will of God! it is the will of God!" The news of this Council spread with wonderful rapidity over the world; and, in the words of an old historian, "throughout the earth the Christians glorified themselves and were filled with joy; while the Gentiles of Arabia and Persia trembled, and were seized with sadness; the souls of the one race were exalted, those of the others stricken with fear and stupor." Some modern historians, in speaking of the influence possessed by Urban over the people, have reproached his memory for the use to which he applied his eloquence, and for having incited the people to the wild and bloodthirsty expeditions of the Crusades, with a view to his own interest. Such an accusation cannot be regarded as just. It is the part of wisdom, as of charity, to judge of a man's acts, not by a standard of pure and abstract right, but rather with regard to the times in which he lived and the influences by which he was surrounded. The spirit of the age was warlike and enthusiastic, and such a spirit may be traced through the conduct of Pope Urban; but there is no reason to doubt that he was sincere, and that he upheld the cause of the Crusades at the cost of great personal sacrifices.

At the Council of Clermont a universal peace was proclaimed, called the Truce of God, and its observance was some time afterwards sworn throughout the country. Europe had long been in a disturbed condition; the weak were liable to be plundered by the strong without redress: and wars and feuds between rival princes were continued with little intermission. It is related that at the Truce of God these evils disappeared, and for a short time there was a profound peace.

Thieves and murderers--criminals of every dye, were tempted by the prospect of boundless licence, and joined the Crusade. Every man wore the sign of the Cross upon his shoulder, cut in red cloth, and many adventurers assumed that sacred emblem in the belief that it would afford a perpetual absolution for any crime they might commit. But while preparing for the departure of the various expeditions, the Crusaders--even those of the most reckless character--abstained for a while from violence, and kept the Truce of God. This cessation of civil warfare must have endured some time, for among the wild spirits who joined the first body of the Crusade few, if any, lived to return, and the removal of so many plunderers and marauders must have produced a beneficial effect on the state of society in Europe.

People of every degree and of various nations were animated with the same ardent enthusiasm. Nobles sold or mortgaged their lands to raise money for the enterprise; poor men abandoned their homesteads and their families, and flocked to the standard of the Cross. The old writers describe the sufferings occasioned by the parting of husbands from their wives, parents from their children. They tell us, however, of exceptions to these scenes of misery. Some wives and mothers there were who, in their fanatic zeal, incited their husbands to the journey, and parted from them without a tear.

In the year 1096, the first body of the Crusaders set out for the Holy Land under the command of Walter the Penniless, a nobleman of Burgundy. This man was a soldier of fortune, noted for his poverty, but also possessed of some degree of military fame. The army which he led was a mixed rabble without order or discipline, who committed many excesses, and plundered the towns and villages which lay on their road. Passing through Germany, Walter entered Hungary, which country had been converted to Christianity several centuries before. At Semlin some stragglers of Walter's army were attacked and plundered by a portion of the inhabitants, and the arms and crosses of the men who had thus been despoiled were placed as trophies upon the walls of the city. The Crusaders called for vengeance; but Walter restrained their impetuosity, and passed on into Bulgaria. Here he found himself among a nation altogether hostile; the gates of the cities were shut against him, and his troops were unable to obtain food. Urged by hunger, they seized the flocks and herds of the natives, who attacked the invaders, and defeated them with great slaughter. Walter succeeded with difficulty in collecting the remnant of his scattered multitude, and led them on the way to Constantinople. Here, after many privations, he at length arrived and obtained permission from the emperor to await the coming of Peter the Hermit, who at length appeared with a following reduced to 7,000.

The discordant elements of which the combined forces were composed soon appeared in a defiance of all authority; and between the various nations a spirit of animosity arose, which found vent in repeated quarrels and disturbances. The thirst for plunder, also, was not restrained by any gratitude for the hospitality of the emperor. Alexius had sent both money and provisions in abundance to the camp of the Crusaders, who, nevertheless, seized whatever booty came within their reach, entering houses and palaces, and stripping the lead from the roofs of the churches, and selling it to the people from whom it had been stolen.

These lawless acts continuing on the increase, the emperor found means to convey his dangerous allies across the Bosphorus, advising them not to quit their new encampment till the arrival of other divisions of the Crusade. The troops, however, continued their ravages throughout Bithynia; a stronger hand than that of a palmer was necessary to control them; and Peter, wearied with excesses which he was unable to prevent, proceeded to Constantinople for the purpose of holding a council with the emperor.

During his absence the Lombards and Germans separated from the French, and chose for their leader a man named Renault, or Rinaldo. Under his command, they resumed their march, and took possession of the fortress of Xerigord. Here they were attacked by Sultan Soliman, who cut to pieces a detachment placed in ambuscade, and then invested the fortress. The besieged possessed no supply of water within the walls, and they endured the most dreadful agonies from thirst. At the end of eight days, the leader, Rinaldo, with his chief companions, went over to the Turks, and betrayed the fortress into their hands. The remainder of the garrison were put to death without mercy.

The news of this disaster reached the French camp, and with it came a false report of the fall of Nicæa. The troops demanded to be led towards the Turkish territory, and Walter the Penniless, having in vain attempted to restrain their impatience, placed himself at their head. Before the army had advanced many leagues into the country, it was encountered by the Turks, who attacked the Crusaders in overwhelming numbers. An obstinate resistance only served to make the carnage more complete. Walter himself, after performing many feats of valour, fell covered with wounds, and the Christian army was routed so completely that only 3,000 men escaped the sword. The fugitives entrenched themselves at Civitot, where they were again attacked by a large force. The Turks surrounded the fortress with piles of wood, with the intention of destroying the garrison by fire, but the Crusaders, seizing a moment when the wind blew towards the Turkish camp, set fire to the wood themselves, and many of their enemies perished in the flames.

Meanwhile a soldier had made his escape from the town, and having reached Constantinople, told the news of these disasters to Peter the Hermit. At the prayer of Peter, the Emperor Alexius sent forces to rescue the garrison of Civitot, and the remnant of the army of the Cross was brought in safety to Constantinople. On their arrival, however, Alexius commanded them to disperse and return to their own country, and he bought from each man his arms; thus at once depriving him of the means of violence, and supplying him with money for the journey. This policy on the part of the emperor has given rise to an accusation against him of having betrayed the Crusaders, and entered into an alliance with the Turks. No such motive is required to account for the conduct of Alexius. He would necessarily be glad to purge his dominions from a number of lawless vagabonds, who committed every species of iniquity in the name of a holy cause, and who, as his allies, were more to be dreaded than the Turks his enemies.

While the expedition of Peter the Hermit thus came to an end, other bands of fanatics and adventurers were following in his steps, without being destined to reach Constantinople. The accounts of these expeditions are inevitably obscure; but the information we possess on the subject is not of a kind to induce a desire for further details. It is related that a multitude of 200,000 persons, without even a nominal leader, passed through Germany towards the south of Europe. Their course was marked by excesses of every kind; men and women lived in a state of debauchery, and indulged in drunken orgies, obtaining supplies by plundering the surrounding country. Every Jew who fell into their hands was put to death, and the fanatic multitude declared it to be the will of heaven that they should exterminate the nation who had rejected the Saviour. A terrible retribution, however, was at hand, and the sacred emblem of the Cross was purified from the stains with which it had been covered by the perpetrators of these enormities. At Merseburg, a large Hungarian force opposed the advancing multitude, who attacked that city with fury. A breach had been made in the walls, and the fall of Merseburg seemed inevitable, when some strange and sudden terror, which has never been accounted for, seized the besieging army, and they gave up the attack, and fled in dismay over the country. The Hungarians pursued them on every side, and mowed them down by hundreds. Day after day the slaughter went on, until the fields were strewn with corpses and the Danube was red with blood. Such was the fate of the first bands of Crusaders who set out towards the Holy Land. More than a quarter of a million persons had already perished by famine or disease, or by the swords of the Turks or Hungarians, whose vengeance they had excited by acts of violence and plunder. Meanwhile many powerful princes of the West were occupied in collecting troops and preparing to take the field. Among these were Godfrey of Bouillon, Duke of Lorraine; Hugh, Count of Vermandois, and brother of Philip, King of France; Robert, Duke of Normandy; Bohemond, Prince of Tarentum; Robert, Count of Flanders; and Raymond, Count of Toulouse; each of whom conducted an army towards Constantinople.

Among the leaders of the first Crusade, the most distinguished was Godfrey VI., Lord of Bouillon, Marquis of Anvers, and Duke of Lorraine. Inferior in political power to some of his companions, he was superior to them all in that influence which depends upon personal character. Although still young in years, he had earned fame in many a well-fought field; and his name was known throughout Europe in connection with acts of private virtue no less than with gallant feats of arms. Amidst the cruelty and licentiousness so commonly attributed to the men of that age, the character of Godfrey is presented to us almost without blemish; and if we make some reservation for the partiality of monkish chroniclers towards the great leader of the Crusade, there will still remain evidence of facts which entitle the memory of the Lord of Bouillon to the highest honour. Robert the Monk, one of his contemporaries, who was present at the siege of Jerusalem, speaks of Godfrey in the following terms:--"He was of beautiful countenance, tall of stature, agreeable in his discourse, of excellent morals, and at the same time so gentle that he seemed better fitted for the monk than for the knight; but when his enemies appeared before him, and the combat was at hand, his soul became filled with a mighty daring: like a lion, he feared not for his own person; and what shield, what buckler, could withstand the fall of his sword?" Long before the Crusade had been preached at Clermont, Godfrey had heard the tales of the sufferings of the Christians in Palestine, and had said that he desired to travel to Jerusalem, not with scrip and staff, but with spear and shield. At the time when the standard of the Cross was raised throughout Europe, he was suffering from a bad fever, but "immediately he shook disease from his limbs, and rising, as it were, with expanded breast, from years of decrepitude he shone with renovated vigour."[15] In order to furnish money for the expedition he had undertaken, he sold to the Church of Liège his beautiful domain and castle of Bouillon; and the standard which he raised was joined by his brother Baldwin, his relation, Baldwin de Bourg, and many other knights of fame.

The army of Godfrey commenced its march from the Moselle in August, 1096, and followed the course previously taken by Peter the Hermit. The order and moderation which distinguished the disciplined troops of Godfrey was as remarkable as the violence and excesses committed by the rabble which had preceded them. The march was conducted peaceably, and without incident, to the frontiers of Hungary, where the army came in sight of the unburied corpses of the multitude slain near Merseburg.

Godfrey called a halt, and proceeded to investigate the causes of the spectacle which lay before him. He wrote a firm but temperate letter to the King of Hungary, demanding an account of the carnage, and Carloman sent envoys with a reply which proved satisfactory. An interview subsequently took place between the duke and the king, at the fortress of Posen. Godfrey went towards this place, accompanied by an escort of 300 knights, and conversed with the Hungarian monarch on the reconciliation of the Christians. The rights of hospitality, which were respected among the most savage nations, were also enforced by the laws of chivalry; and therefore, at the invitation of Carloman, Godfrey dismissed his retinue without hesitation, and, accompanied by a few of his knights, entered the capital. After some difficulty, he obtained the right of passage through Hungary.

While Godfrey was pursuing his course through Hungary, another body of Crusaders, headed by Hugh, Count of Vermandois, were proceeding towards Constantinople by way of Italy. Joined to this expedition, though probably not marching in the same body, were the troops of Robert, Duke of Normandy, and Stephen, Count of Blois.

Robert of Normandy was not altogether destitute of chivalrous qualities; and therefore it is no matter for surprise that this man, whose reckless and licentious character was notorious, should take up the cause of the Cross. The most irreligious men are often superstitious. The crusade was a pilgrimage, with all the pomp of war, and the temptation of earthly aggrandisement was mingled with the hope of a recompense beyond the grave. Fame in this world and happiness in the next were the prizes for which the nobles forsook their feasts and dances, and the poor their homes and their children. Robert was eloquent in speech, and, when his indolence was overcome, skilful and energetic in action; but his deeds were the result of impulse rather than of principle, and were unrestrained by prudence or good sense. He, however, possessed the popular virtue of lavish generosity, and large bands of troops, both Norman and English, attached themselves to his standard. Several independent lords also accompanied him, among whom were Eustace of Boulogne, Stephen of Albemarle, and Odo, the Bishop of Bayeux.

The army of Hugh of Vermandois crossed the Alps with the intention of proceeding by sea to the Holy Land. The old chroniclers describe in glowing terms the brilliant appearance of the troops--the splendour of their equipments--the multitude of knights with shining armour, and banners glistening in the sun. Such a sight had never before been seen in Europe, and it seemed as though this gorgeous array had been destined for pleasure rather than for war. Robert of Normandy and Stephen of Chartres dispersed their forces among the towns of Barri and Otranto, and passed the autumn in gaiety and dissipation. Hugh of Vermandois, however, determined to embark without delay, and he wrote to the Emperor Alexius, demanding haughtily that preparations should be made for his reception. But his vessels were scattered in a storm, and Hugh himself, having landed at Durazzo, was detained in captivity, and sent to Constantinople. Here he was received with great civility by Alexius, who exerted himself by flatteries and attentions to gain the goodwill of his prisoner.

The news of the imprisonment of Hugh reached the army of Godfrey at Philippopolis, and Godfrey sent messengers to the emperor, demanding that the Count of Vermandois should be immediately liberated. Alexius refused to comply with the request, and Godfrey commenced hostilities by giving up to pillage the beautiful province of Thrace. This course of action had its effect, and the emperor found himself compelled to liberate the prisoners. Godfrey then, at once, repressed further acts of violence among his soldiers, and marched peaceably to Constantinople, where he arrived two days before Christmas.

The Count of Vermandois advanced from the city to meet his friend, and at that moment a messenger from the emperor approached Godfrey and invited him to visit the palace. The Lord of Bouillon, however, had been warned against the treachery probably intended by Alexius, and therefore refused to enter the walls. The inhabitants of the city were then prohibited from traffic with the Crusaders, and the army of Godfrey laid waste the surrounding country. During the festival of Christmas these offensive measures were suspended, and at the end of that time the emperor recalled his edict.

Once more Alexius sent deputies to induce Godfrey to enter the city, and his refusal was followed by a second prohibition of traffic, and by further acts of retaliation on the part of the Crusaders. A body of troops then issued from the town, and attacked the camp of the Latins. The Greeks from the walls hurled darts and shot arrows upon the soldiers below, but the Crusaders, who were protected by their coats of mail, inflicted great damage upon their assailants before night closed in and put an end to the combat. Alexius was compelled, by the sufferings of his people, to give up all thoughts of hostile measures, and traffic and intercourse were resumed between the inhabitants and the Army of the Cross. Hugh of Vermandois, upon whom the blandishments of Alexius had produced their impressions, exerted himself to establish peace, and to prevail upon Godfrey to take the oath of fealty to the emperor. The Lord of Lorraine at first refused to bend the knee before this treacherous prince, but at length the arguments of Hugh produced their effect, and a son of Alexius having been sent to the Latin camp as a hostage, Godfrey entered Constantinople with his friends.

Since the conversion of the Emperor Constantine to Christianity (A.D. 323), a city of spacious squares, gorgeous palaces, and churches had been gradually growing up upon the site of the little town of Byzantium. This place was selected by Constantine as the seat of his empire, and the removal may be regarded as one of the causes which hastened the fall of Rome. After the death of Constantine, the vast empire over which his sway had extended was separated into distinct sovereignties for his sons and nephews. That portion of the Roman territory of which Constantinople was the capital gradually acquired strength and importance, and became an empire which has since been known as the Greek, Eastern, or Byzantine empire.

Of those splendours of the Byzantine court which had exerted so marked an influence upon the mind of the Count of Vermandois, and were now employed to dazzle the eyes of his companions in arms, we have full records in the writings of that period. Benjamin of Tudela, a Spanish Jew, who travelled through the East in the twelfth century (1159 or 1160), has given a description of what he saw at Constantinople, and speaks in glowing terms of the magnificence of the buildings and the wealth and luxury of the inhabitants.

"The King Emanuel,"[16] says he, "has built a grand palace for the throne or the seat of his empire, on the borders of the sea, in addition to those which were built by his ancestors. In this palace the columns and their capitals are covered with pure gold and silver, and he has caused to be graven on them all the wars which he and his ancestors have made.[17] There also has been erected a throne of gold and precious stones, above which hangs, by a golden chain, a crown of gold, which comes exactly upon his head when he is seated. In this crown are stones of such great price as cannot be estimated. In the night there is no need of candles, for every one is able to see by the sparkling of these jewels. There are also many other wonders, which no man could recount.

"Thither are carried every year the tributes of all Greece, whose castles are filled with dresses of silk, of purple, and gold. Nowhere else in the world do we see such buildings and such great riches. It is said that the tribute of Constantinople alone amounts to twenty thousand pieces of gold a day,[18] derived from imposts upon the shops, markets, and taverns, as well as that paid by merchants who repair thither from all quarters, both by land and sea. The Greek inhabitants of the country are very rich in gold and jewels. They go about in dresses of silk, fringed with gold and embroidery. To see them in this attire, mounted on their horses, one would say that they are like the sons of kings."[19]

In spite of the luxury which prevailed, the subjects of the Byzantine empire were the most dexterous and laborious of nations. Their country was blessed by nature with every advantage of soil, climate, and situation; and in the support and restoration of the arts their patient and peaceful temper produced results which were not to be attained amidst the warlike spirit and feudal anarchy of Europe. In the preparation of those costly dresses described by the Jewish traveller, the colours most in use were the Tyrian purple, the brilliant scarlet, and the softer lustre of the green. These colours were also used to adorn the buildings.

"There is also at Constantinople," continues Benjamin of Tudela, "the temple of St. Sophia; and the Pope of the Greeks, who are not subject to the Pope of Rome. You may count as many altars in the Temple of St. Sophia as there are days in the year. Thither are gathered immense riches from the isles, country houses, and towns of the country. There is no temple in the universe where we find such riches as are there. In the midst of this temple there are columns of gold and silver, and chandeliers of the same metals, in such numbers that we cannot count them."

A church dedicated to the Divine Wisdom (Santa Sophia) was built by Constantine in the twentieth year of his reign. This building was burnt down in the year 404, and having been rebuilt by Theodosius, was again destroyed by fire. The vast pile, which still remains one of the chief ornaments of Constantinople, and which is now used as a Mahometan mosque, dates from the reign of Justinian. That magnificent prince determined to build "the grandest monument ever erected by the hand of man." Seven years were occupied in collecting materials from every part of the world, and nine were employed in the actual building. Columns of marble from the Temples of the Sun at Palmyra and of Diana at Ephesus, bricks of perfect form and remarkable durability from the island of Rhodes, were brought at immense cost to complete the edifice. Gold and mosaics were spread over the surface, and paintings on gold and costly marbles covered the walls.

The church of St. Sophia, which once contained so many splendours, now retains within it but few traces of its former glory. The imposing proportions of the building still remain, but the walls are bare, and upon the dome the Crescent has replaced the Cross.

The narrative of Benjamin of Tudela goes on to describe a "place where the king diverts himself, called the hippodrome near to the wall of the palace.[20] There it is that every year, on the day of the birth of Jesus the Nazarene, the king gives a grand entertainment. There are represented by magic arts before the king and queen, figures of all kinds of men that exist in the world; thither also are taken lions, bears, tigers, and wild asses, which are made to fight together, as well as birds. There is no such a sight to be seen in all the world."[21]

According to Gibbon, the great palace, the centre of the imperial residence, was situated between the hippodrome and the church of St. Sophia; and the gardens descended by many a terrace to the shores of the Propontis. The new palace, erected in the ninth century by the Emperor Theophilus, was accompanied with five churches, one of which was conspicuous for size and beauty. The square before the portico of the church contained a fountain, the basin of which was lined and encompassed with plates of silver. In the beginning of each season the basin was replenished, instead of water, with the most exquisite fruits, which were abandoned to the populace for the entertainment of the prince. He enjoyed this tumultuous spectacle from a throne resplendent with gold and gems, which was raised by a marble staircase to the height of a lofty terrace. Below the throne were seated the officers of the guards, the magistrates, and the chiefs of the factions of the circus; the inferior steps were occupied by the people; the space below was covered with troops of singers, dancers, and pantomimists. The fanciful magnificence of the emperor employed, in various fantastic designs, the skill and patience of such artists as the times could afford; but the taste of Athens would have despised their frivolous and costly labours--a golden tree with its leaves and branches, which sheltered a multitude of birds warbling their artificial notes, and two lions of massy gold, and of natural size, which looked and roared like their brethren of the forest.

Such were the scenes of magnificence which were presented to the view of Godfrey and his companions as they entered the Greek capital. The emperor received the great leader of the Crusade with the highest distinction, clothed him with imperial robes, and called him his son.[22] The character of Godfrey is shown to us in so high and noble an aspect, that it is not probable he was much affected by these flatteries; but whatever may have been his motives, he consented to do homage to the emperor, according to the feudal laws of France. Alexius now made costly presents to the Crusaders, and gave them honourable conduct from the city. After having refreshed themselves for several days, the army passed the Hellespont and encamped at Chalcedon, there to await the other divisions of the Crusade.

Soon after the departure of Godfrey from Lorraine, Bohemond, Prince of Tarentum, and his relation Tancred had quitted Italy with an immense body of troops, including 10,000 horse. While the character of Bohemond was ambitious, grasping, and unprincipled, the virtues of Tancred were unanimously extolled by the historians of the day, and have been celebrated in undying verse from the pen of Tasso.

The army under these leaders landed at Durazzo and passed through Epirus to Adrianople. Although Alexius had communicated with Bohemond, promising him assistance, the Greek troops harassed the advancing forces, and various engagements took place, with considerable loss on both sides; Bohemond then, at the invitation of the emperor, visited Constantinople, leaving his army behind under Tancred. Influenced by large gifts of money and lands, Bohemond did homage to the emperor, and became one of his firmest allies.

Impressed with a sense of the humiliation of a concession which had been bought with gold, Tancred determined not to submit to similar demands. On receiving the news the young knight immediately marched his army towards Constantinople, and, crossing the Hellespont--without giving any notice of his intention--joined the forces of Godfrey at Chalcedon. Alexius made many efforts to bring back Tancred to Constantinople, and to induce him to do homage, but without success; and the attention of the emperor was presently drawn in another direction, by the arrival of Raymond of St. Gilles, Count of Toulouse, with an army of Crusaders from Languedoc.

Raymond, who is represented as being revengeful and avaricious, but possessing some moral firmness, in conjunction with pride, refused to pay his allegiance to the emperor. The troops of the Count of Toulouse were at a considerable distance from the army of his friends, and Alexius did not hesitate to order a night attack to be made from the city upon the French camp. The Languedocians, however, repulsed their assailants with great loss, and further negotiations, which afterwards took place, only resulted in a second refusal on the part of Raymond to pay the required homage. He, however, consented to take a vow that he would make no attempt against the life or honour of the emperor.

Alexius then changed his conduct, and invited the count to the palace, where the luxury and magnificence which surrounded him produced its effect, and Raymond remained for some time amidst the pleasures of the court. Bohemond and Godfrey, however, had already marched from Chalcedon towards Nicæa, the capital of the Turkish kingdom of Roum. On receiving the news of their departure, the Count of Toulouse quitted Constantinople and hastened to follow the main body of the army.

Another army, forming the last division of the first Crusade, soon afterwards appeared before Constantinople. Robert of Normandy had at length torn himself away from the pleasures of Italy, and had brought with him a well-appointed army, though fewer in numbers than those which had preceded him. Robert took the oath of allegiance, satisfied with the assurance that the other leaders had already done so, and his army having received supplies from the emperor, passed the Hellespont, and marched towards Nicæa, in the path of their companions.

During the successive visits of the Crusaders to Constantinople, the Greek emperor had lost no opportunity of sowing jealousies and dissensions among them. Nevertheless, during the siege of Nicæa, which was the first combined undertaking of the Army of the Cross, there seems to have been no want of harmony among the various leaders. This city, which was occupied by the Seljuk Turks, was strongly fortified by a solid wall, from which rose 350 towers.

When the Christian leaders had united their forces, and been joined by Peter the Hermit with the remnant of his multitude, their army is said to have numbered 600,000 men, exclusive of those who did not carry arms. The number of knights is estimated as having been 200,000. The Seljukian Sultan, David, had quitted his capital on the approach of the Crusaders, and having collected throughout the country a large body of horse, he made a sudden attack upon the Christian forces, but was defeated with heavy loss.

The siege of Nicæa was now pressed with vigour, but the town was obstinately defended, and many of the assailants were shot down by the arrows of the Turkish bowmen. One Turk in particular was seen to present himself repeatedly on the walls, and to deal death wherever his aim was directed. The best-aimed arrows having failed to touch him, the Christian soldiers were seized with superstitious terror, and attributed to him the possession of some supernatural power. It is related by Albert of Aix that Godfrey of Bouillon at length took a crossbow himself, though that weapon was considered as fit only for a yeoman, and having directed it against the Turkish archer, sent an arrow to his heart.

The supplies of the town were obtained from Lake Ascanius (Isnik), which lay beneath its walls, and when this circumstance was discovered by the Crusaders, they established a blockade. Alexius meanwhile had privately communicated with the Turks, who agreed to surrender the city into his hands on condition of receiving immunity and protection. When, therefore, the besieging forces expected the submission of the garrison, the imperial ensign suddenly appeared upon the walls. It had been previously determined between the emperor and the Christian leaders that on the fall of the city it should be given up to Alexius, and that the riches it contained should be distributed among the troops. The treachery of the emperor, in having forestalled this arrangement, excited the greatest indignation among the soldiers of the Crusade, and their leaders had the utmost difficulty in restraining them from that vengeance which they demanded.

The army having resumed its march, the divisions headed by Bohemond and Robert of Normandy became separated from the main body. After crossing arid plains and barren hills, they encamped for the night near Dorylæum, in a pleasant valley watered by a running stream. On the following morning they were suddenly attacked by an army of 200,000 men, who rushed down upon them from the mountains with shouts that shook the air. The Crusaders made a gallant resistance, but they had to deal with an enemy whose superiority lay not less in numbers, than in the fleetness of their steeds and the position of the ground. The Christian soldiers were mown down by flights of arrows and by the charges of the Turkish cavalry; and on being attacked simultaneously in front and rear, they gave way, and fell into confusion. The Turks forced their way into the camp of Bohemond, where they massacred the old, the women, and the helpless. At this juncture the stout heart of Robert of Normandy saved his companions from the disgrace of utter defeat. Spurring his horse among the flying troops, he uncovered his head, and through the din and confusion of the fray sounded his battle-cry of "Normandy!" "Bohemond!" he shouted, "whither fly you? Your Apulia is afar! Where go you, Tancred? Otranto is not near you! Turn upon the enemy! God wills it! God wills it!" And with these words he rallied the troops, drove back the Turks, and maintained a firm line of defence. The battle raged during many hours with great slaughter on both sides, and the Christian troops were gradually giving way before overwhelming numbers, when the Red Cross banner appeared upon the hills, and the army of Godfrey of Bouillon advanced to change the fortune of the day. The Paynim host were compelled to fly in disorder, and their camp, containing much booty of food, fell into the hands of the Crusaders.

In the subsequent march through Phrygia, the Christians had to pass over a large tract of country which had been completely ravaged by the enemy. Their provisions soon became exhausted, and under the burning rays of a southern sun they found themselves without water. The accounts given by the chroniclers of the sufferings of the troops are too dreadful to be repeated. Men, women, and horses fell by thousands on the way, and perished by a lingering and painful death.

At length water was found, and the host of the Crusade reached the city of Antioch in Pisidia. Here, surrounded by a fertile district, the main body of the troops rested for a while from their fatigues, while detachments under the command of Tancred and Baldwin, brother of Godfrey Bouillon, made incursions through the country, and became possessed of the towns of Tarsus and Mamistra. Subsequently Baldwin crossed the Euphrates, and was elected King of Edessa, in which city he remained until the conquest of the Holy Land was completed.

The great army of the Crusade continued its march through uninhabited wilds and barren mountains, and having taken possession of Artesia, advanced towards the Syrian Antioch. Situated on the hills above the river Orontes, the town of Antioch was so strongly fortified by nature as well as by art, that all efforts to take it by assault proved fruitless, and the movable towers, mangonels, battering-rams, and other engines, which were brought to bear by the besieging army, were used without effect (October 21, 1097). Meanwhile famine and disease spread their ravages in the camp without the walls, and the storms of winter proved more fatal to the troops than the arrows of the enemy. Rendered reckless by their sufferings, the soldiers cast aside all the obligations of morality; crimes of the worst description became common, and even the ties of nature were forgotten. We are told by William of Malmesbury, that such was the extremity to which the Crusaders were reduced, that many of them fed upon the dead bodies of their companions. Some of the inferior leaders deserted the army, and among these was Peter the Hermit, whose impulsive enthusiasm gave way before continued misfortunes. He, however, was brought back by Tancred, and was compelled to take a vow that he would not again abandon the enterprise until the army had reached Jerusalem. After various encounters had taken place before the walls, during which the knights of the Crusades performed extraordinary feats of valour, the town of Antioch was betrayed in 1098 to the crafty Bohemond, and the Turkish inhabitants were slaughtered indiscriminately. But the victors found their condition very little improved by the conquest. The city was rich in booty of various kinds, but contained only a scanty store of provisions, of which the Crusaders stood most in need.

Reduced to a state of famine within the walls, the Christians found themselves attacked from without by the forces of the Persian Sultan, who had advanced to rid the country of the invaders. The army of Godfrey had the choice of giving battle to their assailants, or of perishing miserably in the city. Various means having been resorted to of arousing the superstitious feelings of the soldiers, the Christian host marched out from the gates, and began the attack. The ghastly faces of men worn down by famine and misery were lighted once more by the flame of fanaticism, and the wild multitude threw themselves with desperate vigour upon the splendidly appointed host of the Moslem.

In the midst of the contest the Crusaders saw, or thought they saw, some figures clothed in white raiment, and mounted upon white horses, advancing to their aid over the mountains. A cry was raised that the saints were coming to fight on their side; and so powerful was the effect of the enthusiasm thus produced, so terrible was the charge of the Christians upon their enemies, that the Persian host was utterly routed, and dispersed over the hills. Nearly 70,000 Turks are said to have died in the battle of Antioch, while the loss on the part of their opponents did not exceed 10,000. The Crusaders re-entered the city laden with the rich booty of the Turkish camp, in which were found provisions of all kinds, with stores of gold and arms.

While the Christian army was reposing in the midst of plenty, Hugh of Vermandois and Baldwin of Hainault were dispatched to Constantinople on a mission to the Emperor Alexius. Baldwin fell into a Turkish ambuscade, and his fate is not known; but Hugh of Vermandois arrived safely at the Byzantine court. Alexius, careless of his plighted faith, refused to send the reinforcements which were demanded, and suffered events to take their course. The Count of Vermandois having tasted once more the pleasures of ease and luxury, and wearied with the fatigues and privations of the Crusade, abandoned the cause which he had sworn to maintain, and leaving his companions in arms to their fate, returned to his estates in France.

Meanwhile a pestilence broke out in Antioch, and compelled the chiefs to separate and distribute their men in cantonments over the country. A desultory but successful warfare continued to be waged against the Turks, and many towns and fortresses fell into the hands of the Crusaders. At length, after further sufferings and much hard fighting, the remnant of the Army of the Cross arrived before Jerusalem. Of those immense armies, the flower of European chivalry, which had passed in splendid array under the walls of Constantinople, only about 50,000 men were left to reach the Holy City.

An attack was begun on the 7th of June, 1099, headed by Godfrey, Tancred, Robert of Normandy, and Robert of Flanders. The barbicans were carried, and a portion of the wall was thrown down; but such was the strength of the fortifications, and so obstinate the defence of the Turks, that it became necessary to construct engines of assault similar to those which had been used in the siege of Nicæa. Catapults and movable towers were prepared, and to these was added a machine called the "sow," made of wood, and covered with raw hides to protect it from fire. The hollow space within was filled with soldiers, who, with this protection, were occupied in undermining the walls.

To secure success in the final effort of the enterprise, the leaders exerted themselves to heal the dissensions which had hitherto existed in the army, and Tancred set an example of conciliation by embracing his foe, Raymond of Toulouse, in sight of the troops. An expiatory procession, headed by the chiefs and the clergy, was made round the walls of the city, and prayers were offered up at some of the holy places in the neighbourhood for the success of the Christian arms. These demonstrations were treated by the Turks with contempt. They mocked at the procession as it passed before them, and having raised the Cross upon the walls, they threw dirt upon the sacred symbol. The anger of the Crusaders was excited to the utmost, and their interpretation of the religion of peace permitted them to mingle oaths of vengeance with the prayers for victory.

The preparations having been completed, the towers were rolled up to the walls, and the attack commenced. The chiefs of the Christian army appeared on the higher stages of the towers, and Godfrey of Bouillon himself was seen with a crossbow in his hand directing his shafts within the town. The Turks replied by pouring out sheets of flame[23] and flights of arrows upon their assailants. The assault had continued for ten days without result, when the Crusaders redoubled their efforts. Some soldiers from the tower of Godfrey effected a lodgment on the walls, and were followed by the Lord of Lorraine, with Baldwin de Bourg, and other chiefs. Robert of Normandy and Tancred forced one of the gates, and the standard of the Cross was raised upon the walls of Jerusalem on the 15th of July, 1099.

The details of the massacre that ensued form one of the bloodiest pages of history. The Turks, after a vain attempt to dispute the advance of the Crusaders, fled to the mosques, and were slain before the altars. The inhabitants of the city were put to the sword without distinction, women and children sharing the fate of their husbands and their fathers. Ten thousand men are said to have been butchered in the Mosque of Omar, where they had attempted to defend themselves. Streams of blood flowed down the streets of the city, and few of the infidel race escaped the carnage. Such was the vengeance taken by the Crusaders for the persecutions suffered by the Christians in Jerusalem; such were the deeds of horror perpetrated in the name of the Saviour of mankind, as though the Majesty of Heaven could be propitiated by a libation of human blood.

It became necessary to place the safety of the Holy City in the care of one powerful chief, and Godfrey of Bouillon was elected the first King of Jerusalem. He was invested with his new dignity in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, but refused to be crowned, saying that it was not fitting that he should wear a crown of gold in the city where the Saviour had been crowned with thorns. His reign lasted barely a year, and on his death his brother Baldwin was chosen to succeed him.

It does not fall within the scope of this history to trace the progress of events at Jerusalem under its Latin kings. Some account may, however, be given of the origin of two powerful orders of knighthood, which indirectly owed their origin to the First Crusade.

In the year 1048, some merchants from Amalfi obtained permission from the caliph to build a hospital at Jerusalem for the protection of pilgrims. A piece of ground near to the site of the Holy Sepulchre was assigned to them for this purpose, and a chapel and hospital were built there, the first being dedicated to St. Mary, and the second to St. John the Baptist. During the siege of Jerusalem many of the sick and wounded Crusaders were brought into the hospital; and, in gratitude for the benefits they received there, they determined to dedicate their lives to charitable acts, and to enter the Monastery of St. John. They assumed as a dress a black robe, with the figure of a white cross with eight points. Pope Pascal II. bestowed many valuable privileges upon the order, and the Poor Brothers of the Hospital of St. John became a wealthy community, famed throughout Europe. During the reign of Baldwin III. of Jerusalem, the Hospitallers resumed the sword, binding themselves by a vow to draw it only against the enemies of Christ. The order of St. John was then divided into the several classes of knights, clergy, and serving brothers. The knights were highest in rank, and commanded in battle or in the hospital; the serving brothers filled the offices of esquires, or assisted the clergy in attendance upon the sick. The vows, which were taken by all without distinction, included the duties of chastity, of obedience, and of a renunciation individually of all worldly possessions.

The order of the Red Cross Knights, or Templars, is to be referred to a different origin, though the object for which it was instituted was of a similar kind, namely, the protection of pilgrims. The military order of Knights Templars was founded by Baldwin II., King of Jerusalem, in 1118, and they first came to England in 1185. They took vows of obedience to a Grand Master whom they had appointed, and also bound themselves to purity of life, to mutual assistance, and to fight continually against the infidel, never turning back from less than four adversaries. The order was known as that of the Temple of Jerusalem. They wore a white robe, to which was attached a red cross. In addition to their great standard, which also displayed these colours, they carried in battle a banner with black and white stripes, which was intended to signify charity and kindness to their friends, and destruction to their enemies. The Knights Templars, whose rules, like those of the Hospitallers, enjoined humility and poverty, soon became the proudest and wealthiest order in Christendom; and while the Knights of St. John remained during several centuries honoured and respected for acts of benevolence, the Templars became hated and feared for their vices and their cruelty. Much of the chivalry of Europe afterwards became merged in these two orders.

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XV. THE REIGN OF HENRY I

Accession of Henry I.--Robert's Delay in Italy--The Charter of Liberties--Henry's Popularity--Offers his Hand to Matilda--Her Lineage--Obstacles to the Marriage--The Church decides in Favour of it--London at this Period--Coronation of Matilda--Roger of Salisbury--The Marriage--Punishment of William's Favourites--Arrival of Robert in Normandy--Prepares to Attack Henry--Anselm's Services to Henry--Peace effected between the Brothers--Henry's Dispute with Anselm--Strange Policy of the Pope--The Dispute Settled--Death of Anselm--The Earl of Shrewsbury Outlawed--Visit of Robert to England--Campaigns in Normandy--Robert and Edgar Atheling taken Prisoners--Fate of Edgar--Captivity and Death of Robert--Normandy in Possession of Henry--The English King and his Nephew--Return of the King to England--Betrothal of Henry's Daughter Matilda to the Emperor of Germany--War with the Welsh--Death of the Queen--Renewed War in Normandy--Henry before the Council of Rheims--Battle of Brenneville--Treaty of Peace--Shipwreck and Death of the King's Son--Henry's Grief--Character of Prince William--More Trouble in Normandy--The Empress Matilda declared Successor to the Throne--Her Marriage with the Count of Anjou--Death of William of Normandy--Last Years of the King's Life--Death of Henry.

When the news of the death of William Rufus was brought to his brother Henry in the New Forest, the prince immediately set spurs to his horse and galloped to Winchester. Presenting himself before the officers in charge of the treasures of the crown, he demanded the keys; but before he had obtained them, William de Breteuil, the royal treasurer, who had followed Henry from the New Forest, arrived on the spot, and interposed his authority. De Breteuil reminded the prince of the oath of allegiance which they had both taken to Robert of Normandy, to whom also, as the eldest son of the Conqueror, the throne as well as the treasure by right belonged. A violent altercation took place, and Henry drew his sword and threatened De Breteuil with instant death unless the treasure were given up. Several nobles of the late king's court supported the demand, and the treasurer found himself compelled to abandon an opposition which proved unavailing.

Henry, whose abilities had procured him the surname of Beauclerk, or the "fine scholar," showed himself as prompt in action as skilful in design. He immediately distributed some of the jewels and money of the crown among his adherents and the clergy of Winchester, and with these gifts, and promises still more lavishly bestowed, he secured a certain degree of popularity in the city. Having been elected king by the barons who were present, he hastened to London, when he again distributed large gifts among those whose adhesion was necessary. So rapidly was all this done, that on the 5th of August, three days after his brother's death, Henry was proclaimed king, and was crowned in Westminster Abbey by Maurice, Bishop of London.

It will be remembered that, by the treaty signed at Caen between Robert of Normandy and William Rufus, the crown of England devolved upon the survivor; but while Henry was obtaining possession of the throne, Robert was not yet returned from the Holy Land. Soon after the fall of Jerusalem, the Duke of Normandy had quitted Palestine and landed in Italy. Here he was received with high honour and welcome by the Norman barons who had conquered large possessions in that southern land. Passing through Apulia, he was entertained at the castle of the Count of Conversane, who was a relation of Robert Guiscard. The count received his guest with the utmost hospitality, and all the resources of a princely establishment were placed at his command. It is not surprising that these pleasures should attract a man like the Duke of Normandy, who had just escaped from the protracted hardships of the Crusade. But the Count of Conversane had a daughter; she was young, accomplished, and of great beauty. Robert fell in love with the Lady Sibylla, and obtained her hand in marriage. Ignorant of the critical position of affairs in England, and probably troubling himself little about the future, the Duke of Normandy lingered in Italy, while his more ambitious brother was securing himself in the sovereignty he had usurped.

The English people are said to have been inclined in favour of Henry, from the circumstance of his having been born and educated in England. The advantage he thus possessed was improved to the utmost, and the new king exerted himself to obtain the goodwill of that portion of his subjects who, however trodden down and oppressed by the arrogant Norman barons, were, in fact, the strength and sinew of the nation. A charter of liberties was passed, in which Henry bound himself to restore the laws of Edward the Confessor--that is, the old customs of the country--and promised to restrict himself to his just claims over his tenants, making the same agreement binding in turn upon his tenants towards their vassals. This charter was the cause of great rejoicing among the people, and though the effects produced by it were less advantageous than was expected, it is remarkable as having supplied the groundwork for that more important concession which was afterwards obtained from King John.

These measures gave to Henry a greater popularity than had been enjoyed by either of his predecessors. The nation had no fears of foreign invasion. Some of the most pressing grievances had been redressed, and hopes were given of the removal of others; and although several generations had to pass away before the distinction of Norman and Saxon was entirely to merge into the general name of Englishman, the process had already commenced--a process which, rousing the slumbering English from the lethargy of years, and stimulating the energetic principles of the Norman character to their highest development, ultimately gave birth to a series of events which placed England foremost in the rank of nations.

Such was the state of affairs when the new king, rejecting all thoughts of an alliance with any of the princely families of the Continent, as the crowning act of reconciliation with his English subjects, offered his hand to the exiled and portionless daughter of Malcolm Canmore, a humble novice in the Abbey of Romsey, but the representative of a long and illustrious line of English princes.

We have seen how, on the death of Edward the Confessor, Harold obtained possession of the crown, and have recorded his defeat and death, and the flight of Edgar--"the noble child," as the English chroniclers fondly term him--with his mother and sisters to Scotland. The results of his voyage, and the marriage of his sister Margaret with the King of Scotland, have been already related.

Six children arrived at years of maturity. Edward, who was slain with his father at Alnwick; Edgar, Alexander, and David, who each in turn succeeded to the crown. The daughters were named Mary, who married Eustace, Count of Boulogne; and Matilda, or Maud, afterwards queen of Henry I.

The death of Malcolm and his eldest son, which occurred in 1093, was soon followed by that of Margaret. The brother of Malcolm assumed the crown, to the exclusion of his three nephews; and to this cause we may doubtless attribute the sending of Matilda, together with her sister, to the care of their aunt Christina, who had taken the veil in 1086.

As Matilda grew towards womanhood, more than one Norman chieftain had endeavoured to obtain her hand in marriage; but on preferring their request to William Rufus, that politic monarch had refused his consent. He did not wish to see an English princess, a lineal descendant of Alfred the Great, allied to any man whose power or abilities might enable him to aspire to the throne. Matilda, therefore, remained in the seclusion of the cloister until King Henry sent to her his proposals of marriage. It is related that the young princess received the offer with dislike if not with disdain. She was not ignorant of the sufferings which the Norman invasion had brought upon her countrymen, and her sympathy with their sorrows induced a hatred of their oppressors. Her friends and attendants, however, combated these scruples, and argued that, by her consent, she might restore, in some degree, the safety and happiness of the people, while her refusal would certainly tend to increase the enmity between the Norman and English races. It is one of the penalties attached to royalty that those connections which, in a lower and happier sphere of life, are matters of choice and affection, become among princes mere questions of State policy. Matilda felt herself unable to resist the arguments brought forward in favour of the match, and she gave an unwilling consent. An opposition on the other side, meanwhile, arose among the Norman adherents of Henry, who were ill-disposed to have an English queen to reign over them, and were probably jealous of the effect such a marriage would produce among the people in the king's favour.

It was asserted that the chosen wife of the king was already the bride of Heaven; that she had been seen to wear the veil of a nun, which shut her out for ever from the world.

In this difficulty it was necessary for Henry to procure the assistance of the clergy, and, wishing to obtain the support of the Church against Robert, he sent messengers to Anselm entreating him to return to England, and resume the see of Canterbury. The king promised to restore the privileges of the Church, and to submit to its authority. Anselm acceded to the request, and agreed to perform the marriage ceremony; but when he heard the reports in circulation that Matilda had taken the veil, he declared that the matter required to be investigated, and that he would himself examine the princess on the subject.

On the question being put to her, Matilda denied that she had ever been dedicated to a religious life, or had worn the veil of her own consent. The reason she gave for having been made to do so at particular times gives a striking picture of the lawlessness and brutality of the Norman soldiery. "I confess," she said, "that I have sometimes appeared veiled, but the cause was this:--In my youth I was under the care of my aunt Christina. She, in order to preserve me from the Normans, by whose licentiousness the honour of all women was threatened, was accustomed to throw a piece of black stuff over my head; and when I refused to wear it, she treated me with great harshness. In her presence, therefore, I wore that veil, but when she was away, I used to throw it on the ground, and trample upon it in childish anger."[24]

Anselm convoked a council of nobles and ecclesiastics, who assembled in the city of Rochester, and to whom the evidence given by Matilda was submitted. Witnesses were examined in support of her assertions, and the assembly decided that the princess was free to dispose of her person in marriage. They cited, as an authority for this decision, the judgment of Archbishop Lanfranc, who, at a time when some English women had taken refuge in a convent from fear of the soldiers of the Conqueror, permitted them to regain their liberty.

At the time of the coronation of Matilda, the city of London could not have presented much to attract the eye. The convents were few, and the churches humble. The tall spire, rising like an aspiration towards heaven; the richly traceried window; the carved portal, did not yet exist to form a picturesque contrast with the rude, low houses built in irregular lines.

The Thames, crossed by one poor wooden bridge, was not then, as now, crowded by a fleet of merchantmen. At the Tower, the Vintry, and Edred's-hithe, a few small vessels, indeed, might be anchored; and from time to time some tall Norman galley might glide over its silvery waters.

On either side of the city, and close to the water's edge, stood the important fortresses of the Tower and Castle Baynard, whilst a rude collection of huts, of the poorest description, formed that general receptacle of thieves and outlaws, the Borough. Close to them stood the convent and church of St. Mary, and far beyond, on the same side of the river, rising above the marshes which surrounded it, might be seen the towers of the palace of Lambeth.

As the procession moved on, the eyes of the princess encountered a fairer spectacle; for, on quitting the village of Charing, she entered the broad but irregular road which led to the palace of Westminster, the residence of the sovereign of England. There the hand of improvement, guided by art, had lavished enormous sums of money both on church and hall. The abbey, which had been raised by the pious exertions of the Confessor, was probably no ignoble edifice.

Beside the primate was a churchman of a very different character, Roger, the king's chancellor, afterwards Bishop of Salisbury. The history of his progress under royal favour is strikingly characteristic of the man and the times in which he flourished. At the period when Henry was fighting under the banner of his brother, William Rufus, with a troop of mercenaries whom he headed, they entered a church near Caen, and requested the priest whom they found there to say a mass as quickly as possible. This priest was Roger, who promptly complied with their request, and hurried over the service in so rapid a manner that they unanimously declared that it would be impossible to find a priest more suitable for a soldier's chaplain. In this new office Roger acquitted himself so well, that Henry, on his accession, advanced him to the chancellorship, and in 1107 to the see of Salisbury. He became one of the ablest financiers of the age, and a great builder of churches and castles.

Of the principal nobles of England and Normandy, it is probable that only a few were present. Some were in the Holy Land with Robert; others, dissatisfied at the usurpation of his younger brother, remained in their respective castles, silently preparing to assert the right of the lawful heir to the throne. Amongst those, however, who adhered to Henry, was the famous Roger de Bigod, who had obtained vast possessions both in Norfolk and Suffolk; whilst another devoted friend of the king was the powerful Earl of Chester, lord of the Welsh marches, and commonly called Hugh Lupus, on account of his turbulent disposition.

The marriage was celebrated on the 12th of November, 1100, and the queen was crowned amidst the acclamations of the people. Previous to the ceremony, Anselm, who wished to leave no room for slanderous reports, and to remove all doubts of the lawfulness of the marriage, mounted a platform before the church door, and explained the question which had been disputed, and the decision of the council, to the assembled people.

The Normans, however, who had raised the opposition to the marriage, and many of whom were secret adherents of Duke Robert, vented their ill-humour in bitter railleries and jests. They gave Henry the nickname of Godric, and his queen they called Godiva--names which were English, and were applied in derision. It is related by an old historian that Henry heard all these things, but that he dissembled his anger, and pretended to laugh heartily at the jests.

Soon after his marriage the king commenced proceedings against several of the most vicious of his brother's favourites, whom he despoiled of their ill-gotten possessions, and either expelled from the country, or threw promptly into prison. During the time he had been attached to his brother's court, Henry had taken part in the debaucheries which prevailed there; and it is probable that the punishment of his former associates was dictated, not by any regard for the interests of virtue, but rather from a deference to the wishes of the people; while, at the same time, he was enabled to fill the royal coffers with the treasures of the banished lords. Foremost among the proscribed was Randolf Flambard, the minister of Rufus, who had been made Bishop of Durham, and had amassed large possessions by extortion, and by selling justice. Flambard was seized and thrown into the Tower, whence he effected his escape, by means of a rope which was conveyed to him by some of his friends in a flagon of wine. Having made his way to the coast, he crossed the Channel, and entered the service of Robert of Normandy.

When Robert at length returned to his dukedom with his bride Sibylla, he was received with acclamation by the inhabitants, and soon expressed the intention of enforcing his claim to the crown of England; but, with his accustomed procrastination, he took no immediate steps to that end, but occupied his time with feasts and tournaments. When at length he was aroused to enter upon the expedition he had planned, he was supported not only by the resident Norman barons, but also by many of those who had settled in England, and who agreed to join their forces to his standard. Among these were the Earl of Surrey William de Warrenne, Robert de Pontefract, Hugh de Grantmesnil, Robert de Malet, and Robert de Belesme, Earl of Shrewsbury.

On the other hand, Henry was strong in the support of the English people, and a party of the Norman nobility. Archbishop Anselm, with other prelates, rendered the king important service, and secured to Henry the support of the Pope. There is no doubt whatever that Anselm was a conscientious man, and that if he adhered to the cause of the younger brother, he did so from a sincere desire to establish the liberties of the people, and from a conviction that the rule of Henry, who had pledged himself to promote the welfare of his subjects, was preferable to that of the weak and luxurious Duke of Normandy.

Henry fitted out a fleet for the purpose of intercepting the duke in his voyage across the Channel; but the English sailors, from some cause which has not been entirely explained, deserted from their allegiance, and carried the ships over to the service of Robert.

Robert landed with his army at Portsmouth (1101), and was immediately joined by many barons and knights of Norman birth; the clergy, however, and the populace remained faithful to the cause of the king. Several days elapsed before the rival forces came within sight of each other; and in the meanwhile some of the Norman barons acted as mediators between the two brothers, and succeeded in arranging terms of peace. Robert agreed to resign his claim to the crown of England for a yearly pension of two thousand pounds of silver; and it was decided that the adherents of either side should be pardoned, and that their possessions, confiscated by the king or the duke, should be at once restored. A clause was also added, to the effect that whichever of the two brothers might survive the other, should succeed to his title and dominions. The effusion of blood was thus stayed for the moment, and Robert returned with his army to Normandy (1102).

Finding himself securely in possession of the throne, Henry was disposed to revoke some of the concessions which he had made to Anselm for the purpose of securing the support of that prelate. The king demanded that he should do homage for the archbishopric of Canterbury; and Anselm having returned a decided refusal, a dispute arose which lasted over several years. In the first instance, the question was referred to the Pope, Pascal II., who decided that all ecclesiastics should enter the Church without the authority of laymen, of however high degree. Henry persisted in maintaining his prerogative, and required Anselm either to do homage or once more to quit the kingdom. The archbishop remained firm; and the king, who did not desire an open rupture with the Church, sent three bishops to Rome to negotiate with the Pope. Anselm, at the same time, sent two monks as messengers of his own. It is stated by Eadmer, the biographer of Anselm, that the Pope had recourse to a strange expedient to evade the difficulty in which he found himself. He refused to communicate with the three bishops in writing, but informed them verbally that he ceded the right of investiture to the king; while he gave letters to the two monks, in which he supported the opposition of Anselm, and desired him to continue that course of action.

On the return of the messengers to London, an assembly was convened, at which they delivered the report of their journey. The word of the three bishops was accepted by the king in preference to the written testimony produced by the monks; and though the Pope affirmed that the evidence of the bishops was false, and, moreover, excommunicated them as liars, Henry stoutly pursued his own line of policy, and invested new bishops with the sees of Hereford and Salisbury. Anselm obtained permission to proceed himself to Rome for the purpose of terminating the dispute (1103).

The archbishop remained abroad several years, during which negotiations were carried on. In 1106 a compromise was agreed to, by the terms of which the more important parts of the investiture--the oaths of fealty and homage--were retained by the king; while the Pope was content with the merely symbolic presentation of the ring and crozier. Upon these lines the question, which had long agitated Europe, was afterwards settled at Worms between Calixtus II. and the Emperor Henry V.

After the return of Anselm, a number of canons were passed by a council of the Church, enforcing upon the clergy the obligation of celibacy. Lanfranc had previously exerted himself to promote this object, though with only partial success; and Anselm now undertook to enforce the same measures. Those priests who were married were commanded to separate from their wives, whom they were never again to see, except in the presence of witnesses. Any who should refuse compliance were to be excommunicated and deposed from the order.

In the year 1109 Anselm died at the age of seventy-six. He was a man of very great ability and erudition, the evidences of which may be found in his writings, which are still extant. He exerted himself to establish schools, and to promote the spread of knowledge throughout the country, and the news of his death was received with general regret among the people. He represented in saintliness, administrative powers, and political foresight the highest ideals of mediæval Christendom.

The treaty which had been signed between Henry and Robert in no degree affected the policy of the king, who showed himself as unscrupulous and careless of his plighted faith as had been his brother Rufus. Determined to punish those barons who had supported the Duke of Normandy, and whose power and position rendered their disaffection a matter to be dreaded, Henry took measures calculated to excite them to some overt act of rebellion, which should enable him to proceed against them without the shame of a direct violation of the treaty. The first who became the object of attack was Robert de Belesme, Earl of Shrewsbury, who held large possessions in Normandy as well as in England. De Belesme was summoned before the general assembly held in the king's palace, to answer forty-five charges which were brought against him. On appearing before the council, the earl, according to the custom of the time, demanded leave to go and consult with his friends respecting his accusation and the conduct of his defence. The permission having been granted, the earl immediately quitted the court, took horse, and galloped off to one of his fortified castles.

The king and the council having waited in vain for his answer to the charges, made proclamation of outlawry against him, and declared him a public enemy unless he returned and appeared before the court at its next sitting. Robert de Belesme made no answer to the summons, but prepared energetically for war, and collected large stores of provisions in his castles of Arundel, Shrewsbury, and Tickhill. Bridgenorth, on the frontier of Wales, was also strongly fortified.

Henry advanced against his rebellious vassal with an army, a great part of which was composed of English troops, who marched with alacrity to punish the proud Norman baron. After having obtained possession of the castle of Arundel, Henry marched against Bridgenorth, where the earl had entrenched himself. For several weeks the king besieged the town without result, when some of the Norman barons undertook to arrange terms of peace, as they had already done in the case of Robert of Normandy.

Many of the barons waited upon King Henry, and demanded a conference, or parlement, for the purpose of preparing terms of peace. The plain on which the assembly met was bounded by hills, on which were posted a large body of English troops. These, who had been informed of the object of the conference, called out loudly to the king, "Place no faith in them, King Henry, they want to lay a snare for you: we will give thee our assistance, and will follow thee to the assault. Make no peace with the traitor until he falls into thy hands." The warning appears to have produced its effect, and no reconciliation took place between the belligerents. The fortress of Bridgenorth at length capitulated, and the king's forces marched through a densely-wooded country to attack the earl in his stronghold of Shrewsbury. A short interval elapsed, and then this fortress also was taken; and Earl Robert, who was made a prisoner was banished from the country, with the forfeiture of the whole of his estates. Other nobles, who had adhered to the cause of Robert of Normandy, were afterwards prosecuted, and met with a similar fate to that of the Earl of Shrewsbury.

The English troops of Henry had long sought for an opportunity of vengeance upon the oppressors of their country, and they might not unreasonably feel elated at the victories they had obtained over the Norman insurgents. It does not appear, however, that the nation at large derived any benefit from the suppression of the rebellion. Although Henry was bred in England, and had married an English wife, his sympathies were not with the people whom he governed. The old historians tell us that the good Queen Matilda used all the influence she possessed to advance the happiness and secure the liberties of her countrymen; but her counsel and entreaties do not seem to have produced any effect upon the conduct of the king. The condition of the people soon after the marriage of Henry with Matilda is thus described in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle:--"It is no easy matter to relate all the miseries with which the land was at this time afflicted, by unjust and continual exactions. Wherever the king went, those in his train oppressed the people, and were guilty of murder and incendiary fires in many places."

Alarmed for the safety of his adherents, Robert, without hesitation, came over to England, accompanied only by a small escort, and placed himself unreservedly in his brother's power for the purpose of pleading the cause of the proscribed nobles.

At this time Robert resigned his pension of two thousand pounds. According to some historians, he was detained by Henry as a prisoner, and the pension was the price paid by the duke for his liberty; while another account states that the sum was given as a present to the Queen Matilda. It is, however, certain that Robert soon returned to Normandy without having succeeded in the object of his visit.

The Duke of Normandy was ill-fitted to restrain the excesses of his turbulent barons, or to hold with a firm hand the reins of government. Many disorders sprang up in his duchy, and were left unnoticed or unpunished by the sovereign. The fair Sibylla died in 1102, and since that time the duke had resumed his irregular way of life, and had shown more completely than ever his utter incapacity for the management of public affairs.

King Henry took advantage of this state of things to interfere in the disputes of the Norman barons; and, after appearing for a time in the character of a mediator, he at length threw off the mask, and declared himself the protector of the duchy against the maladministration of his brother. He summoned Robert to give up possession of the duchy in return for an annual payment of money. The duke indignantly refused to comply with the demand, and Henry prepared to dispossess his brother by force.

In the year 1105 the king entered Normandy with an army, and captured several castles and fortified places. Robert, however, was not without means of defence; some few nobles of power and influence still remained attached to his cause, and Henry returned to England, having added Caen and Bayeux to his possessions.

A second campaign was opened in the following year, and Henry crossed the Channel with a more formidable armament than before. He appeared before Tenchebrai, an important stronghold, situated at a few leagues' distance from Mortain. Having in vain attempted to corrupt the garrison with gold, the king laid siege to the castle with his whole army. Messengers came to Robert with the news that his troops were hard pressed by the enemy, and the duke promised that, in defiance of every obstacle, he would come on a certain day to their assistance. The promise was redeemed; and, at the time appointed, the duke, with a small but gallant band of troops, attacked the army of his brother. Placing himself at the head of his knights he dashed in upon the English infantry, which gave way before him in disorder. So impetuous was the charge, that the fortune of the day seemed likely to be in favour of Robert, when the cowardice or treachery of the Earl of Shrewsbury turned the tide of affairs. De Belesme, whose troops formed an important division of the army of the duke, suddenly fled from the field. A panic ensued among the Normans, and the brilliant deeds of valour performed by their leader failed to restore their courage or to secure the victory. After a desperate resistance, Robert was taken prisoner, with many of the chief nobles who had fought under his banner.

Edgar Atheling, who was serving in the Norman army, also fell into the hands of Henry. At the instance of the queen, his niece, a pension was granted to him, and he is related to have passed the rest of his days on a small farm in England, where he lived in obscurity, and no historian has noted the time of his death or the place of his burial.

In 1106 a harder fate was reserved for the Duke of Normandy. He was confined in Cardiff Castle, which stood near to that of Gloucester, and had recently been conquered from the Welsh. At first some degree of liberty was permitted to him, and he was allowed to take exercise among the fields and woods of the neighbourhood. On one occasion, however, he made an attempt to escape on horseback, but was pursued and taken in a marsh, which he had attempted to cross in his flight. It is related by some historians that, to prevent the possibility of another attempt of the same kind, the king ordered his brother's sight to be destroyed by a painful operation. In this miserable condition, with light and liberty alike shut out, the once gay and gallant Duke of Normandy lingered on for twenty-eight years, without quitting his prison. He died in 1135.

After the victory of Tenchebrai the whole of Normandy fell into the hands of Henry. Rouen, the capital, submitted without resistance to the conqueror, and the town of Falaise capitulated after a siege of short duration. Among the prisoners taken at Falaise was William, the son of Robert and Sibylla. Some feeling of pity seems to have entered the breast of the king when his nephew, then a child of five years old, was brought before him. He committed the prince to the care of Hélie de St. Saen, a Norman nobleman of high character, who had married a natural daughter of Robert. Soon afterwards, however, Henry attempted to secure the person of his nephew, and sent a body of troops to the castle of St. Saen for that purpose. Hélie, who feared some evil intention on the part of the king, effected his escape, and carried his young charge to the court of Louis VI., King of France. On the way Hélie passed some time at the courts of the most powerful Norman barons, and at that of Fulk, Count of Anjou, by whom, as well as by Louis, the prince was received with kindness and protection. He was brought up in the palace of the French king, who, as he grew up, presented him with horses and the harness of a knight, while Fulk promised to give him his daughter Sibylla in marriage.

Louis, who dreaded the power of the King of England, saw the advantage he might obtain by supporting the legitimate claims of William Clito, or William of Normandy, as he was afterwards called. In the name of the young prince, he entered into a league with the chiefs of some of the neighbouring states, among whom was the Count of Flanders. Henry was attacked at various points along the frontiers of Normandy, and some of his fortresses and towns were taken. At the same time, many Norman barons, who were secretly attached to the cause of Duke Robert, engaged in a conspiracy against Henry. At length the king succeeded by policy in dissolving the league against him. A treaty was signed, by which the estates of Hélie de St. Saen were given to Fulk of Anjou, to whose daughter, Matilda, Henry agreed to marry his own son, William. The contract of marriage between Sibylla and the son of Robert was broken off, and the cause of the latter was no longer to be supported by the Count of Anjou. William of Normandy retired to the court of Baldwin, Count of Flanders, who was one of the warmest supporters of his cause.

Having brought these negotiations satisfactorily to an end--for which purpose he had spent two years in Normandy--Henry returned to England. The sums expended by the king in procuring the submission of the friends of William were obtained by heavy burdens and exactions from the people of England. Each year is described as being attended with its peculiar calamity, and in the year 1110 the sufferings of the people were heavy, "caused by the failure of the crops and the taxes demanded by the king for the dowry of his daughter."[25]

This daughter, who bore her mother's name of Matilda, was then only seven years old. By the feudal laws the king was entitled to levy a tax on the marriage of his eldest daughter, and Matilda was betrothed to Henry V., Emperor of Germany, who had sent ambassadors to demand her hand. The nominal rank of the German emperor was high, but the country over which he ruled was poor, and the prince himself not unfrequently kept state with empty coffers. He demanded a large dowry, which, after some delay, was seized rather than collected from the English people, and the young princess was committed to the hands of the ambassadors, who conducted her "with all honour" to Germany, where she was to receive her education. Her embarkation was a splendid sight, and is described in glowing terms by contemporary historians, but the people could not forget "how dear all this had cost the English nation,"[26] and Matilda's unpopularity in after years might in some degree be traced to the circumstances which had attended her marriage.

About the year 1111 the Welsh made incursions into the English counties on their borders, and overran the whole of Cheshire, causing great distress and damage to the inhabitants. Henry advanced against them, and as they retreated before him he followed them to the fastnesses of the mountains, defeating them whenever he could find an opportunity of engaging them in battle. As had been the case with his father, the Conqueror, and his brother Rufus, Henry found himself unable to subdue a people whose home was among trackless mountains and dangerous morasses, and he contented himself with building a chain of forts or castles a little farther into the country than those erected by his predecessors. He also brought over a number of Flemings, to whom he gave a district of Pembrokeshire, with the town of Haverfordwest. These people were at once industrious and warlike, and they maintained themselves in prosperity in their new colony, in spite of repeated attacks made upon them by the Welsh.

On May 1, 1118, Queen Matilda died, "with the sad reflection that she had sacrificed herself for her race in vain."[27] Of this unhappy lady the historians of the time record no acts which were not gentle and womanly; and she appears to have merited the affection of the people, and that title of "the Good" which they conferred upon her. For the last twelve years of her life she was neglected by her husband, and lived in the palace of Westminster, surrounded by the pomp and state of royalty, but not the less friendless and alone. She passed much of her time engaged in exercises of devotion, and it is related of her that her chief recreation consisted in listening to the songs and the stories of minstrels, whom the spirit of chivalry prompted to offer their tribute to her virtues and misfortunes.

Meanwhile, a dangerous confederacy was forming on the Continent among the adherents of William of Normandy. Henry had neglected, in almost every instance, to perform the promises which he had made to the Norman barons; and he had refused to conclude the match which had been agreed upon between his son William and the daughter of Fulk, Count of Anjou. Louis of France, who still extended his favour and support to the son of Robert, entered into a league with Fulk of Anjou and Baldwin of Flanders, for the purpose of wresting the dukedom of Normandy from the possession of Henry. The first campaign was favourable to the arms of the English king, who successfully defended his territory against the attacks of the allies. Louis then determined to demand the assistance of the ecclesiastical power. A council of the clergy was convoked at Rheims, at which the Pope, Calixtus II., was present; and thither the King of France carried the young prince, and presenting him to the council, craved its assistance on his behalf. Louis addressed an eloquent speech to the Pope, in which he dwelt upon the unjust and merciless character of the King of England, who not only refused to his nephew those possessions which belonged to him of right, but also retained his brother, the Duke of Normandy, in solitary and endless imprisonment. Henry, who had been apprised of the purpose of the council, sent costly presents to the Pope and the clergy, and subsequently had an interview with Calixtus, at which similar inducements were employed with success. The council looked coldly on the suit of Louis, and refused him the assistance he demanded.

The friends of William of Normandy continued the war with vigour, and Henry experienced several reverses. At the siege of Eu, Baldwin, Count of Flanders, the most energetic and determined of the allies, was killed; and finding himself thus freed from one formidable foe, Henry determined to get rid of another by means which, on a former occasion, had proved efficacious. He sent messengers to the Count of Anjou, proposing that the marriage between his son and the count's daughter should take place immediately; a bribe of money was also added. The count accepted the terms, withdrew his forces from those of the King of France, and the marriage was soon afterwards celebrated.

The cause of the allies now rapidly lost ground. The less powerful barons, wearied with the ill success of their arms, or induced by presents, which were distributed with a lavish hand by Henry, deserted one after the other, until the French king was left to sustain the struggle almost alone. During the desultory warfare which was carried on between the opposing forces, an engagement took place which has been honoured with the title of the battle of Brenneville, and which has been cited as a curious example of the mode of warfare common at that time.

Louis having laid a scheme for surprising the town of Noyon, Henry marched to the relief of the place, and encountered a portion of the French army at Brenneville (1119). On the side of the French were four hundred knights, while King Henry was attended by somewhat more than that number. William of Normandy, at the head of a body of the French, made a gallant charge upon his opponents, and penetrated through their ranks to the place where Henry was standing. The English king was struck on the head by Crispin, a Norman soldier, who had followed the fortunes of William. Henry, however, was rather excited than injured by the blow, and he struck his adversary to the ground, following up his advantage with other feats of gallantry. By this means he encouraged his troops, and after an obstinate conflict, the French were beaten off, with the loss of their standard and one hundred and forty knights, who were taken prisoners. The number of dead in this engagement amounted only to two, or, as some say, to three knights. At this period the cavalry were encased in heavy armour, which almost secured the wearers from blows of sword or lance, while, according to the usages of chivalry, all knights, on whichever side they fought, were regarded as one brotherhood, and the object aimed at in battle was not to despatch an adversary, but to take him prisoner. These circumstances account for the number of dead being unusually small as compared with the number engaged; though in the battle of Brenneville the proportion of the former seems to be less than in any other engagement on record.

The battle of Brenneville was followed by a treaty of peace, which was arranged by the intervention of the Pope Calixtus, between Louis and Henry. By this treaty, the interests of William Fitz-Robert were entirely set aside, and the whole of the duchy of Normandy was to remain in the hands of Henry, whose son William was to render homage to Louis for the possession of the duchy. By this means the King of England evaded the declaring of himself a vassal of the King of France--an act which, as Duke of Normandy, he was called upon to perform.

Henry carried his son William into Normandy, where he received his first arms, and was acknowledged as King Henry's successor by the barons. He also obtained the hand of the daughter of Fulk of Anjou. The bride was a child of twelve years old, and the prince had but just passed his eighteenth year. These various matters being accomplished, and peace established on a tolerably secure footing, King Henry prepared to return to England (1120).

The fleet was assembled at Barfleur, and at the moment when the king was about to embark, a man named Thomas Fitz-Stephen advanced to speak with him, and offering a mark of gold, said, "Stephen, the son of Erard, my father, served all his life thy father by sea, and he steered the vessel which carried the duke to the conquest of England. My lord the king, I pray thee to appoint me to the same office. I have a ship called La Blanche Nef,[28] which is well rigged and fully manned." The king answered that, as regarded himself, the choice of a ship was already made, but that he would entrust the petitioner with the care of his two sons and his daughter, with the nobles and attendants of their train. The vessel in which Henry embarked then set sail with a fair wind, and reached the English coast in safety on the following morning. On board the Blanche Nef were the prince, his half-brother Richard, and their sister the Lady Marie, or Adela, Countess of Perche, with other nobles of England and Normandy, to the number of 140 persons, besides fifty sailors. Before setting sail three casks of wine were distributed among the crew by the prince's order; and several hours were spent carousing, during which many of the crew drank themselves "out of their wits." After nightfall, and when the moon had risen brightly, the vessel left her moorings, and proceeded with a soft and favourable breeze along the coast. Fifty skilful rowers propelled her on her way, and the helm was held by Fitz-Stephen. The sailors, excited by wine, pulled stoutly, so as to overtake the vessel of the king, when suddenly they found themselves entangled among some rocks off Barfleur, then called the Ras de Catte, and now known as the Ras de Catteville. The Blanche Nef struck on one of the rocks, and immediately began to fill. The cry of terror which broke from the startled revellers passed through the calm night air, and reached the king's ship at a distance of several miles. Those who heard it, however, little suspected its meaning, and passed on their way unconscious of the catastrophe which had taken place so near to them.

As the ship struck, the stout-hearted captain hastily lowered a boat, and placing the prince with a few of his friends therein, entreated him to make for the shore without delay. The devotion of Fitz-Stephen was, however, without avail. William heard the screams of his sister Marie, who had been left on board the vessel, and he commanded the boat to be put back to save her. When the order was obeyed, the terrified passengers threw themselves into the boat in such numbers that the frail bark was immediately upset, and all who were in it perished. In a few moments more the ship was also engulfed beneath the waters. The only trace which remained of the wreck was the main-yard, to which two men clung with the tenacity of despair; one of these was a butcher of Rouen, named Berauld, and the other a young man of higher birth, named Godfrey, the son of Gilbert de l'Aigle.

Fitz-Stephen, the captain, after falling into the water, rose to the surface, and swam towards the two men who were clinging to the spar. "The king's son!" he cried, "what has become of him?" "We have seen nothing of him," was the reply; "neither he nor any of his companions have appeared above water." "Woe is me!" the captain exclaimed, and sank to rise no more. It was in the month of November, and the coldness of the water fast numbed the limbs of the younger of the two survivors, who at length let go his hold, and committing his companion to the mercy of Heaven, disappeared beneath the waves. Berauld, the butcher, the poorest of all those who had set sail in the Blanche Nef, was the only one who survived to tell the story of the shipwreck. Wrapped in his sheepskin coat, he supported himself until daybreak, when he was seen by some fishermen, who rescued him from his perilous situation. This occurred on the 26th of November, 1120.

The news reached England on the following day, but no man dared tell the king of his bereavement. At length the courtiers tutored the young son of Count Theobald of Blois, who was sent in to the king, and, falling at his feet, told him of the loss of the Blanche Nef, with all on board. Henry is said to have fainted at the news, and the historians agree in dwelling upon the grief he felt--a grief so rooted that he was never afterwards seen to smile.

The English people appear to have regarded the shipwreck as a judgment of Heaven upon the vices of the prince and the cruelties of his father. This view was strengthened by the circumstance that the disaster took place, not in a storm, but on a calm sea and under a tranquil sky. The character of Prince William is represented by the chroniclers as that of a tyrannical and licentious youth. He is said to have detested the people from whom his own mother was descended, and to have declared that when he became king he would bend the necks of the English to the plough, and treat them like beasts of burden. "The proud youth!" says Henry of Huntingdon, a contemporary writer; "he was anticipating his future reign; but God said, 'Not so, thou impious one; it shall not be.' And thus it happened that his brow, instead of being encircled with a crown of gold, was dashed against the rocks of the ocean." It is possible, however, that the historians gave too much importance to the light words of a heedless youth, and we may well be cautious in covering with infamy the name of one of whose life the last and best authenticated act at least was noble and generous.

On the death of Prince William, the Count of Anjou sent messengers to Henry, demanding back his daughter Matilda, together with the dowry which had been given to the king on her marriage. Henry willingly consented to the return of the princess to her father, but refused to give up any part of the money. Fulk was thus furnished with a pretext for renewing his former connection with William of Normandy, on whose future prospects the death of his cousin might exercise considerable influence. The son of Duke Robert was placed by Fulk in possession of the earldom of Le Mans, and was again betrothed to Sibylla, the younger daughter of the Count Henry, who was apprised of these proceedings, passed over into Normandy, and after a year of desultory warfare, made prisoners of several of the Norman barons, and detached Fulk of Anjou once more from the cause of William.

In 1126 Henry's daughter Matilda became a widow, by the death of her husband, Henry V. of Germany, and the king then determined to appoint her his successor to the throne of England and the dukedom of Normandy. The native English, as well as the Normans, were altogether opposed to a scheme whose object was to place them under the government of a woman. The power of Henry was, however, so firmly established that the barons who murmured in secret did not dare openly to resist his will. Those among them who had the greatest influence were conciliated by grants of land; the assistance of the clergy was already secured; and on Christmas Day, 1126, a general assembly of the nobles and higher ecclesiastics of the kingdom was convened at Windsor Castle for the purpose of declaring the Empress Matilda (as she was still called) the legitimate successor to the throne. The clergy and the Norman barons of both countries unanimously swore allegiance to her, in the event of the king's death. Several disputes as to precedence took place on the occasion, and one of these was remarkable as having an importance beyond the mere question of court etiquette. Robert, Earl of Gloucester, who was an illegitimate son of the king, demanded to take the oath before Stephen, Count of Blois, who was the son of Adela, daughter of the Conqueror, and therefore nephew to Henry. It is probable that both of these men aspired to the throne, and that, while in the act of taking vows which they had no intention of performing, each was anxious to have his rank and standing determined. The legitimate birth of Stephen prevailed over the nearer relationship of Robert, and the Count of Boulogne first took the oaths to maintain the succession of Matilda.

In the same year (1126) Fulk, Count of Anjou, departed for the Holy Land, having first placed the government of his country in the hands of his son Geoffrey, surnamed Plante Genest, or Plantagenet, from his custom of wearing on his helmet a sprig of yellow broom instead of a feather. The young Count of Anjou is described as possessing elegant and courtly manners, a noble person, and a reputation for gallantry in the field. These qualities recommended him to the favour of King Henry, who personally invested him with the order of knighthood. The ceremony took place at Rouen with great pomp, and the king, according to the custom of chivalry, presented his son-in-arms with a horse and a splendid suit of armour.

The English king had frequently had cause to dread the opposition of the House of Anjou, and therefore he was induced, not less by motives of policy than by his regard for Geoffrey, to form an alliance with that powerful family. He determined that his daughter Matilda should wed the Count of Anjou. The marriage was concluded without the knowledge of the barons, who afterwards declared their disapproval of it, and many of them made it a pretext for breaking the oath of allegiance which they had taken to the ex-empress.

The marriage was celebrated in Rouen on August 26, 1127, and the festival, which was marked with all the splendour which the wealth of Henry could command, was prolonged during three weeks. On the first day heralds went about the streets, commanding in the king's name that all men whatsoever should take part in the festivities, and that any man neglecting to make merry on the joyful occasion should be considered guilty of an offence against the king.

Meanwhile, William of Normandy had obtained a position of power and influence which gave Henry much uneasiness. When Fulk of Anjou abandoned his connection with the son of Robert, the cause of the latter was still upheld by Louis, King of France. Charles the Good, Count of Flanders, the successor of Baldwin, was murdered by his own people while attending a service of the church in Bruges, and Louis gave that county to William. The Flemings, who at first received their new earl without opposition, broke out into revolt after the departure of the French king, and sent to ask the support of Henry. William, however, was not without supporters, and his personal gallantry, joined to high military talents, gave him the victory over the insurgents in various encounters. His career, however, was destined to be short; in an engagement under the walls of Alost, in which he completely defeated his opponents, the son of Robert received a wound on the head, which proved fatal within a few days afterwards. He died on the 27th of July, 1128, at the age of twenty-six.

Henry was thus relieved from any dread of the pretensions of his nephew, and he passed over into Normandy. In 1133 Matilda gave birth to a son, who was named Henry, and who afterwards reigned in England with the title of Henry II. Subsequently two other sons, named Geoffrey and William, were the fruit of this marriage. On the birth of his grandson, the king again endeavoured to secure to his race the succession to the throne by causing the barons once more to swear fealty to Matilda and to her children. During Henry's stay in Normandy, various quarrels took place between the ex-empress and her husband, and the king had great difficulty in keeping the peace between them. It would appear that Matilda seized every opportunity of prejudicing her father against her husband, who was exasperated at the king's refusal to place him in immediate possession of Normandy.

The last years of Henry's life were embittered by these dissensions in his family, and his health rapidly declined. In the year 1135 he received news of an incursion of the Welsh, and while preparations were making for his return to England he was seized with a sudden illness. Having passed a day in hunting at Lions-la-Forêt, in Normandy, he supped late in the evening upon a dish of lampreys, of which he was remarkably fond. An indigestion, which resulted in a fever, was the consequence of this indulgence, and three days afterwards he expired (December 1, 1135). His body was afterwards conveyed to Reading Abbey, which he had himself founded, and was there buried.

In spite of the misery endured by the English during this reign, their condition was better than it would have been had a weak king been at the head of affairs. As far as in him lay, Henry maintained order throughout the kingdom. He could do but little to ameliorate the evils of famine, pestilence, and floods; but he could, and did, check the exactions and cruelties of the barons, whether lay or ecclesiastical; he put a stop to the excessive contributions in kind levied by the followers of the court under the name of purveyance. Although the people suffered fearfully from taxation, they were better off than if they had been subject to the extortions of every petty landowner. The issuers of false coin were hanged without mercy, and all crimes of violence were punished with equal severity. "He made peace," says the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, "for man and beast. Whoso bare his burden of gold and silver, no man durst do him aught but good."

In order to carry out the maintenance of order, Henry strengthened the administrative machinery throughout the kingdoms. The best features in the old English system had been the local assemblies, which were remarkably representative, and did their work efficiently. These institutions, which had been allowed to lapse into decay, Henry restored in their integrity, and renewed at the same time the system of Frank-pledge, or mutual responsibility. But he was not content with mere restoration; it was necessary that the local courts should keep in touch with a powerful central authority, otherwise they would undoubtedly be too weak to withstand the courts of the land-owning nobility. He therefore organised his ordinary council into a great court, which became known as the Curia Regis, or king's court. It was composed of a selection of barons, the chief officers of the royal household, and those who were best qualified for judicial matters. Its president was the Justiciar, who was the king's representative. The business of the court was twofold--financial and judicial. When employed in financial business the court sat in the exchequer chamber--so called because its table was covered with a cloth resembling a chess-board--and was spoken of as the court of the barons of the exchequer. The organisation of this court was the great work of Roger of Salisbury. From it proceeded men who were sent to traverse the country, first in the capacity of officers of finance, afterwards as officers of justice. These judicial visitations were developed by Henry II. into a permanent part of the system of the country.

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