of this permission. The pope's consent was obtained with still less difficulty. William had shown himself in many instances a friend to the church, and a favourer of the clergy. On this occasion, he promised to improve those happy beginnings in proportion to the means he should acquire by the favour of the holy see; it is said, that he even proposed to hold his new kingdom as a fief from Rome. The pope, therefore, entered heartily into his interests; he excommunicated all those that should oppose his enterprize, and sent him, as a means of insuring success, a consecrated banner.

CHAPTER II.

REIGN OF WILLIAM THE CONQUERER.

AFTER the battle of Hastings, the taking of Dover, the surrender of London, and the submission of the principal nobility, William had nothing left but to order in the best manner the kingdom he had so happily acquired. Soon after his coronation, fearing the sudden and ungoverned notions of so great a city, new to subjection, he left London until a strong citadel could be raised to over-awe the people. This was built where the tower of London now stands. Not content with this, he built three other strong castles, in situations as advantageously chosen, at Norwich, at Winchester, and at Hereford, securing not only the heart of affairs, but binding down the extreme parts of the kingdom. And as he observed, from his own experience, the want of fortresses in England, he resolved fully to supply that defect, and guard the kingdom both against internal and foreign enernies. But he fortified his throne yet more strongly by the policy of good government. To London he confirmed by charter the liberties it had enjoyed under the Saxon kings; and endeavoured to fix the affections of the English in general, by governing them with equity according to their antient laws, and by treating them on all occasions with the most engaging deportment. He set up no pretences which arose from absolute conquest. He confirmed their estates to all those who had not appeared in arms against him, and seemed not to aim at subjecting the English to the Normans, but to unite the two nations under the wings of a common parental care. If the Normans received estates and held lucratives offices, and were raised by wealthy matches in England, some of the

English were enriched with lands and dignities, and taken into considerable families in Normandy. But the king's principal regards were showed to those by whose bravery he had attained his greatness. To some he bestowed the forfeited estates, which were many and great, of Harold's adherents; others he satisfied from the treasures his rival had amassed; and the rest, quartered upon wealthy monasteries, relied patiently on the promises of one whose performances had hitherto gone hand in hand with his power. There was another circumstance, which conduced much to the maintaining, as well as to the making, his conquest. The posterity of the Danes, who had finally reduced England under Canute the Great, were still very numerous in that kingdom, and in general not well liked by, nor well affected to, the old Anglo-Saxon inhabitants. William wisely took advantage of this enmity between the two sorts of inhabitants, and the alliance of blood which was between them and his subjects. In the body of laws which he published, he insists strongly on this kindred, and declares, that the Normans and Danes ought to be as sworn brothers against all men: a policy, which probably united these people to him; or at least so confirmed the antient jealousy which subsisted between them and the original English, as to hinder any cordial union against his interests.

When the king had thus settled his acquisitions by all the methods of force and policy, he thought it expedient to visit his patrimonial territory, which, with regard to its internal state, and the jealousies which his additional greatness revived in many of the bordering princes, was critically situated. He appointed to the regency, in his absence, his brother Odo, an ecclesiastic, whom he had made bishop of Bayeaux in France, and earl of Kent, with great power and pre-eminence in England; a man bold, fierce, ambitious, full of craft, imperious, and without faith, but well versed in all affairs, vigilant and courageous. To him he joined William Fitz-Auber, his justiciary, a person of consummate prudence and great integrity. But, not depending on this disposition, to secure his conquest as well as to display its importance abroad, under a pretence of honour, he carried with him all the chiefs of the English nobility, the popular Earls Edwin and Morcar, and, what was of most importance, Edgar Atheling, the last branch of the royal stock of the Anglo-Saxon kings, and infinitely dear to all the people.

The king managed his affairs abroad with great address, and covered all his negotiations

for the security of his Norman dominions, under the magnificence of continual feasting and unremitted diversion, which, without an appearance of design, displayed his wealth and power, and by that means facilitated his measures. But, whilst he was thus employ ed, his absence from England gave an opportunity to several humours to break out, which the late change had bred, but which the a nazement likewise produced by that violent change, and the presence of their conquerour, wise, vigilant, and severe, had hitherto repressed. The antient line of their kings displaced; the only thread on which it hung carried out of the kingdom, and ready to be cut off by the jealousy of a merciless usurper; their liberties none, by being precarious, and the daily insolencies and rapine of the Normans intolerable; these discontents were increased by the tyranny and rapaciousness of the regent; and they were fomented from abroad by Eustace, count of Boulogne; but the people, though ready to rise in all parts, were destitute of leaders; and the insurrections actually made were not carried on in concert, nor directed to any determinate object. So that the king, returning speedily, and exerting himself every where with great vigour, in a short time dissipated these ill-formed projects. However, so general a dislike to William's government had appeared on this ccasion, that he became in his turn disgusted with his subjects, and began to change his maxims of rule to a rigour, which was more Conformable to his advanced age, and the sternness of his natural temper. He resolved, since he could not gain the affections of his subjects, to find such matter for their hatred as might weaken them, and fortify his own authority against the enterprizes which that hatred might occasion. He revived the tribute of Danegelt, so odious from its original cause, and that of its revival, which he caused to be strictly levied throughout the kingdom. He erected castles at Nottingham, at Warwick, and at York, and filled them with Norman garrisons; he entered into a stricter inquisition for the discovery of the estates forfeited on his coming in; paying no regard to the privileges of the ecclesiastics, he seized upon the treasures, which, as in an inviolable asylum, the unfortunate adherents to Harold had deposited in monasteries. At the same time he entered into a resolution of deposing all the English bishops, on none of whom he could rely, and filling their places with Normans. But he mitigated the rigour of these proceedings by the wise choice he made in VOL. II.-35

filling the places of those whom he had deposed; and gave by that means those violent changes the air rather of reformation than oppression. He began with Stigand, archbishop of Canterbury. A synod was called, in which, for the first time in England, the pope's legate, à Latere, is said to have presided. In this council, Stigand, for simony and for other crimes, of which it is easy to convict those who are out of favour, was solemnly degraded from his dignity. The king filled his place with Lanfranc, an Italian. By his whole conduct he appeared resolved to reduce his subjects of all orders to the most perfect obedience.

The people loaded with new taxes, the nobility degraded and threatened, the clergy deprived of their immunities and influence, joined in one voice of discontent; and stimulated each other to the most desperate resolutions. The king was not unapprized of these motions, nor negligent of them. It is thought he meditated to free himself from much of his uneasiness, by seizing those men, on whom the nation in its distresses used to cast its eyes for relief. But whilst he digested these measures, Edgar Atheling, Edwin and Morcar Waltheof the son of Seward, and several others, eluded his vigilance, and escaped intc Scotland, where they were received with open arms by King Malcolm. The Scottish monarch on this occasion married the sister of Edgar; and this match engaged him more closely to the accomplishment of what his gratitude to the Saxon kings and the rules of good policy had before inclined him. He entered at last into the cause of his brotherin-law and the distressed English; he persuaded the king of Denmark to enter into the same measures, who agreed to invade England with a fleet of a thousand ships. Drone, an Irish king, declared in their favour, and supplied the sons of Earl Goodwin with vessels and men, with which they held the English coast in continual alarms.

Whilst the forces of this powerful confederacy were collecting on all sides, and prepared to enter England, equal dangers threatened from within the kingdom. Edric the Forester, a very brave and popular Saxon, took up arms in the counties of Hereford and Salop, the country of the antient Silures, and inhabited by the same warlike and untameable race of men. The Welsh strengthened him with their forces, and Cheshire joined in the revolt. Hereward le Wake, one of the most brave and indefatigable soldiers of his time, rushed with a numerous band of fugitives and

outlaws from the fens of Lincoln and the Isle of Ely; from whence, protected by the situation of the place, he had for some time carried on an irregular war against the Normans. The sons of Goodwin landed with a strong body in the west; the fire of rebellion ran through the kingdom; Cornwall, Devon, Dorset, at once threw off the yoke. Daily skirmishes were fought in every part of the kingdom with various success, and with great bloodshed. The Normans retreated to their castles, which the English had rarely skill or patience to master; out of these they sallied from time to time, and asserted their dominion. The conquered English for a moment resumed their spirit; the forests and morasses, with which this island then abounded, served them for fortifications, and their hatred to the Normans stood in the place of discipline; each man, exasperated by his own wrongs, avenged them in his own manner: every thing was full of blood and violence. Murders, burnings, rapine, and confusion overspread the whole kingdom. During these distractions, several of the Normans quitted the country, and gave up their possessions, which they thought not worth holding in continual horrour and danger. In the midst of this scene of disorder, the king alone was present to himself and to his affairs. He first collected all the forces on whom he could depend within the kingdom, and called powerful succours from Normandy. Then he sent a strong body to repress the commotions in the west; but be reserved the greatest force, and his own presence, against the greatest danger, which menaced from the north. The Scots had penetrated as far as Durham; they had taken the castle, and put the garrison to the sword. A like fate attended York from the Danes, who had entered the Humber with a formidable fleet. They put this city into the hands of the English malecontents, and thereby influenced all the northern counties in their favour. William, when he first perceived the gathering of the storm, endeavoured, and with some success, to break the force of the principal blow, by a correspondence at the court of Denmark; and now he entirely blunted the weapon, by corrupting, with a considerable sum, the Danish general. It was agreed, to gratify that piratical nation, that they should plunder some part of the coast, and depart without further disturbance. By this negotiation, the king was enabled to march with an undissipated force against the Scots, and the principal body of the English. Every thing yielded. The Scots retired into their own

country. Some of the most obnoxious of the English fled along with them. One desperate party, under the brave Waltheof, threw themselves into York, and ventured alone to resist his victorious army. William pressed the siege with vigour; and, notwithstanding the prudent dispositions of Waltheof, and the prodigies of valour he displayed in its defence, standing alone in the breach, and maintaining his ground gallantly and successfully, the place was at last reduced by famine. The king left his enemies no time to recover this disaster; he followed his blow, and drove all who adhered to Edgar Atheling out of all the countries northward of the Humber. This tract he resolved entirely to depopulate, influenced by revenge, and by distrust of the inhabitants, and partly with a view of opposing an hideous desert of sixty miles in extent, as an impregnable barrier against all attempts of the Scots in favour of his disaffected subjects. The execution of this barbarous project was attended with all the havoc and desolation that it seemed to threaten: one hundred thousand are said to have perished by cold, penury, and disease. The ground lay untilled throughout that whole space for upwards of nine years. Many of the inhabitants both of this and all other parts of England, fled into Scotland; but they were so received by King Malcolm, as to forget that they had lost their country. This wise monarch gladly seized so fair an opportunity, by the exertion of a benevolent policy, to people his dominions, and to improve his native subjects. He received the English nobility according to their rank; he promoted them to offices according to their merit, and enriched them by considerable estates from his own demesne. From these noble refugees several considerable families in Scotland are descended.

William, on the other hand, amidst all the excesses, which the insolence of victory, and the cruel precautions of usurped authority could make him commit, gave many striking examples of moderation and greatness of mind. He pardoned Waltheof, whose bravery he did not the less admire, because it was exerted against himself. He restored him to his antient honours and estates; and thinking his family strengthened by the acquisition of a gallant man, he bestowed upon him his niece Judith in marriage. On Edric the Forester, who lay under his sword, in the same generous manner he not only bestowed his life, but honoured it with an addition of dignity.

The king, having thus by the most politic and the most courageous measures, by art,

by force, by severity, and by clemency, dispelled those clouds, which had gathered from every quarter to overwhelm him, returned triumphant to Winchester; where, as if he had newly acquired the kingdom, he was crowned with great solemnity. After this, he proceeded to execute the plan he had long proposed, of modelling the state according to his own pleasure, and of fixing his authority upon an immovable foundation.

There were few of the English who, in the late disturbances, had not either been active against the Normans, or shown great disinclination to them. Upon some right, or some pretence, the greatest part of their lands were adjudged to be forfeited. William gave these lands to Normans, to be held by the tenure of knight service, according to the law which modified that service in all parts of Europe. These people he chose, because he judged they must be faithful to the interest on which they depended; and this tenure he chose because it raised an army without expense; called it forth at the least warning; and seemed to secure the fidelity of the vassal, by the multiplied ties of those services which were inseparably annexed to it. In the establishment of these tenures, William only copied the practice which was now become very general. One fault, however, he seems to have committed in this distribution; the immediate vassals of the crown were too few; the tenants in capite at the end of this reign did not exceed seven hundred; the eyes of the subject met too many great objects in the state, besides the state itself; and the dependance of the inferiour people was weakened by the interposal of another authority between them and the crown; and this without being at all serviceable to liberty. The ill consequence of this was not so obvious, whilst the dread of the English made a good correspondence between the sovereign and the great vassals absolutely necessary; but it afterwards appeared, and in a light very offensive to the power of our kings. As there is nothing of more consequence in a state than the ecclesiastical establishment, there was nothing, to which this vigilant prince gave more of his attention. If he owed his own power to the influence of the clergy, it convinced him how necessary it was to prevent that engine from being employed in its turn against himself. He observed, that besides the influence they derived from their character, they had a vast portion of that power which always attends property. Of about 60,000 knights' fees, which England was then judged so contain, 28,000 were in the hands of the

clergy; and these they held discharged of all taxes, and free from every burthen of civil or military service; a constitution undoubtedly no less prejudicial to the authority of the state, than detrimental to the strength of the nation, deprived of so much revenue, so many soldiers, and of numberless exertions of art and industry, which were stifled by holding a third of the soil in dead hands out of all possibility of circulation. William in a good measure remedied these evils, but with the great offence of all the ecclesiastic orders. At the same time that he subjected the church lands to military service, he obliged each monastery and bishopric to the support of soldiers, in proportion to the number of knight's fees that they possessed. No less jealous was he of the papal pretensions, which, having favoured so long as they served him as the instruments of his ambition, he afterwards kept within very narrow bounds. He suffered no communication with Rome but by his knowledge and approbation. He had a bold and ambitious pope to deal with, who yet never proceeded to extremities with, nor gained one advantage over William during his whole reign; although he had by an express law reserved to himself a sort of right in approving the pope chosen, by forbidding his subjects to yield obedience to any whose right the king had not acknowledged.

To form a just idea of the power and greatness of this king, it will be convenient to take a view of his revenue. And I the rather choose to dwell a little upon this article, as nothing extends to so many objects as the public finances; and consequently nothing puts in a clearer or more decisive light the manners of the people, and the form, as well as the powers of government, at any period.

The first part of this consisted of the demesne. The lands of the crown were, even before the conquest, very extensive. The forfeitures consequent to that great change had considerably increased them. It appears from the record of Domesday, that the king retained in his own hands no fewer than 1400 manors. This alone was a royal revenue. However, great as it really was, it has been exaggerated beyond all reason. Ordericus Vitalis, a writer almost contemporary, asserts, that this branch alone produced a thousand pounds a day ;* which, valuing the pound as it was then estimated, at a real pound of silver, and then allowing the difference in value

I have known myself great mistakes in cal

culation by computing, as the produce of every day in the year, that of one extraordinary day.

since that time, it will make near twelve millions of our money. This account, coming from such an authority, has been copied without examination by all the succeeding historians. If we were to admit the truth of it, we must entirely change our ideas concerning the quantity of money, which then circulated in Europe. And it is a matter altogether monstrous and incredible, in an age when there was little traffic in this nation; and the traffic of all nations circulated but little real coin; when the tenants paid the greatest part of their rents in kind; and when it may be greatly doubted whether there was so much current money in the nation, as is said to have come into the king's coffers from this one branch of his revenue only. For it amounts to a twelfth part of all the circulating species, which a trade, infinitely more extensive, has derived from sources infinitely more exuberant to this wealthy nation, in this improved age. Neither must we think, that the whole revenue of this prince ever rose to such a sum. The great fountain, which fed his treasury, must have been Danegelt, which, upon any reasonable calculation, could not possibly exceed one hundred and twenty thousand pounds of our money, if it ever reached that sum. William was observed to be a great hoarder, and very avaricious; his army was maintained without any expense to him; his demesne supported his household; neither his necessary nor his voluntary expenses were considerable. Yet the effects of many years' scraping and hoarding left at his death but sixty thousand pounds, not the sixth part of one year's income, according to this account, of one branch of his revenue and this was then esteemed a vast treasure. Edgar Atheling, on being reconciled to the king, was allowed a mark a day for his expenses, and he was thought to be allowed sufficiently; though he received it in some sort as an equivalent for his right to the crown. I venture on this digression, because writers in an ignorant age, making guesses at random, impose on more enlightened times, and affect by their mistakes many of our reasonings on affairs of consequence; and it is the errour of all ignorant people, to rate unknown tinies, distances, and sums, very far beyond their real extent. There is even something childish and whimsical in computing this revenue, as the original author has done, at so much a day. For my part, I do not imagine it so difficult to come at a pretty accurate decision of the truth or falsehood of this story.

The above-mentioned manors are charged

with rents, from five to an hundred pounds each. The greatest number of those I have seen in print are under fifty; so that we may safely take that number as a just medium; and then the whole amount of the demesne rents will be 70,000 pounds, or 210,000 of our money. This, though almost a fourth less than the sum stated by Vitalis, still seems a great deal too high, if we should suppose the whole sum, as that author does, to be paid in money, and that money to be reckoned by real pounds of silver. But we must observe, that, when sums of money are set down in old laws and records, the interpretation of those words, pounds and shillings, is for the most part oxen, sheep, corn and provision. When real coin money was to be paid, it was called white money, or argentum album, and was only in a certain stipulated proportion to what was rendered in kind; and that proportion generally very low. This method of paying rent, though it entirely overturns the prodigious idea of that monarch's pecuniary wealth, was far from being less conducive to his greatness It enabled him to feed a multitude of people; one of the surest and largest sources of influence, and which always out-buys money in the traffic of affections. This revenue, which was the chief support of the dignity of our Saxon kings, was considerably increased by the revival of Danegelt, of the imposition of which we have already spoken, and which is supposed to have produced an annual income of 40,000 pounds of money as then valued.

The next branch of the king's revenue were the feudal duties, by him first introduced into England; namely, ward, marriage, relief, and aids. By the first, the heir of every tenant, who held immediately from the crown, during his minority was in ward for his body and his land to the king; so that he had the formation of his mind at that early and ductile age to mould to his own purposes, and the entire profits of his estate, either to augment his demesne, or to gratify his dependents. And as we have already seen how many and how vast estates, or rather princely possessions, were then held immediately of the crown, we may comprehend how important an article this must have been.

Though the heir had attained his age before the death of his ancestor, yet the king intruded between him and his inheritance; and obliged him to redeem, or as the term then was, to relieve it. The quantity of this relief was generally pretty much at the king's direc tion; and often amounted to a very great sum. But the king's demands on his rents in