hastened with an army to the protection of his people, and expressed the utmost ardour to show himself worthy of their favour. had given so many proofs of an equitable and prudent administration, that the people flocked from all quarters to join his standard; and as soon as he reached the enemy at Stanford, he found himself in a condition of giving them battle. The action was very bloody; but the victory was decisive on the side of Harold, and ended in the total rout of the Norwegians, Harfagar their king and Tosti being slain. Those who escaped, owed their safety to the personal prowess of a brave Norwegian, who is said to have defended a bridge over the Derwent for three hours, against the whole English army; during which time he slew forty of their best men with his battle-axe: but he was at length slain by an arrow. Harold, pursuing his victory, made himself master of a Norwegian fleet that lay in the river Ouse; and had the generosity to give prince Olave, the son of Harfagar, his liberty, and allowed him to depart with twenty vessels. There had never before been in England an engagement between two such numerous armies, each being composed of no less than threescore thousand men. The news of this victory diffused inexpressible joy over the whole kingdom; they gloried in a monarch, who now showed himself able to defend them from insult, and avenge them of their invaders; but they had not long time for triumph, when intelligence was brought of a fresh invasion more formidable than had ever been formed against England before. This was under the conduct of William, duke of NorSept. 29, mandy, who landed at Hastings with an army of disciplin1066. ed veterans, and laid claim to the English crown. William, who was afterwards called the Conqueror, was the natural son of Robert, duke of Normandy. His mother's name was Arlette, a beautiful maid of Falaise, whom Robert fell in love with as she stood gazing at the door whilst he passed through the town. William, who was the offspring of this amour, owed a part of his greatness to his birth, but still more to his own personal merit. His body was vigorous, his mind capacious and noble, and his courage not to be repressed by apparent danger. His father Robert growing old, and, as was common with princes then, superstitious also, resolved upon a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, contrary to the advice and opinion of all his nobility. As his heart was fixed upon the expedition, instead of attending to their remonstrances, he showed them his son William, whom, though illegitimate, he tenderly loved, and recommended to their care, exacting an oath from them of homage and fealty. He then put him, as he was yet but ten years of age, under the tutelage of the French king; and soon after going into Asia, whence he never returned, left young William rather the inheritor of his wishes than the crown. In fact, William, from the beginning, found himself exposed to many dangers, and much opposition, from his youth and inexperience, from the reproach of his birth, from a suspected guardian, a disputed title, and a distracted state. The regency, appointed by Robert, were under

great difficulties in supporting the government against this complication of dangers and the young prince, when he came of age, found himself reduced to a very low condition. But the great qualities which he soon displayed in the field and the cabinet gave encouragement to his friends, and struck a terror into his enemies. He on all sides opposed his rebellious subjects, and repressed foreign invaders, while his valour and conduct prevailed in every action. The tranquillity which he had thus established in his dominions induced him to extend his views; and some overtures, made him by Edward the Confessor in the latter part of his reign, who was wavering in the choice of a successor, inflamed his ambition with a desire of succeeding to the English throne. Whether Edward really appointed him to succeed, as William all along pretended, is, at this distance of time, uncertain; but it is beyond a doubt, that Harold, happening to pay a visit to the Norman coast, was induced by this prince to acknowledge his claims, and to give a promise of seconding them. This promise, however, Harold did not think proper to perform, when it stood in the way of his own ambition; and afterwards, when William objected to the breach, he excused himself, by alleging that it was extorted from him at a time when he had no power to refuse. On whatever side justice might lie, the pretext on William's part was, that he was appointed heir to the crown of England by Edward the Confessor, upon a visit he had paid that monarch during his lifetime. In consequence of these pretensions, he was not remiss, after the death of Edward, to lay in his claims; but Harold would admit none of them, resolved to defend by his valour what his intrigues had won. William finding that arms alone were to be the final deciders of this dispute, prepared to assert his right with vigour. His subjects, as they had long been distinguished for valour among the European nations, had at this time attained to the highest pitch of military glory. His court was the centre of politeness; and all who wished for fame in arms, or were naturally fond of adventure, flocked to put themselves under his conduct. The fame of his intended invasion of England was diffused over the whole continent; multitudes came to offer him their services in this expedition; so that he was embarrassed rather in the choice of whom he should take, than in levying his forces. The pope himself was not behind the rest in favouring his pretensions; but either influenced by the apparent justice of his claims, or by the hopes of extending the authority of the church, he immediately pronounced Harold an usurper. He denounced excommunication against him and all his adherents, and sent the duke a consecrated banner to inspire him with confidence. With such favourable incentives, William soon found himself at the head of a chosen army of sixty thousand men, all equipped in the most warlike and splendid manner. The discipline of the men, the vigour of the horses, the lustre of the arms and accoutrements, were objects that had been scarcely seen in Europe for before. It was in the beginning of summer that he embarked this powerful body on board a fleet of three hundred sail;

some ages

and, after some small opposition from the weather, landed at Pevensey, on the coast of Sussex, with resolute tranquillity. William himself, as he came on shore, happened to stumble and fall; but, instead of being discomposed at the accident, he had the presence of mind to cry out, that he thus took possession of the country. Different from all the ravagers to which England had been formerly accustomed, this brave prince made no show of invading a foreign country, but rather encamping in his own. Here he continued in a quiet and peaceable manner for about a fortnight, either willing to refresh his troops, or desirous of knowing the reception which his pretensions to the crown would meet with among the people. After having refreshed his men at this place, and sent back his fleet to Normandy to leave no retreat for cowardice, he advanced along the sea-side to Hastings, where he published a manifesto, declaring the motives that had induced him to undertake this enterprise.

He was soon roused from his inactivity by the approach of Harold, who seemed resolved to defend his right to the crown, and retain that sovereignty which he had received from the people, who only had a right to bestow it. He was now returning, flushed with conquest, from the defeat of the Norwegians, with all the forces he had employed in that expedition, and all he could invite or collect in the country through which he passed. His army was composed of active and valiant troops, in high spirits, strongly attached to their king, and eager to engage. On the other hand, the army of William consisted of the flower of the continent, and had been long inured to danger. The men of Bretagne, Boulogne, Flanders, Poictou, Maine, Orleans, France, and Normandy, were voluntarily united under his command. England never before, nor ever since, saw two such armies drawn up to dispute its crown. The day before the battle, William sent an offer to Harold to decide the quarrel between them by single combat, and thus to spare the blood of thousands; but Harold refused, and said he would leave it to the God of armies to determine. Both armies, therefore, that night pitched in sight of each other, expecting the dawning of the next day with impatience. The English passed the night in songs and feasting; the Normans in devotion and prayer.

The next morning at seven, as soon as day appeared, both armies were drawn up in array against each other. Harold appeared in the centre of his forces, leading his army on foot, that his men might be more encouraged by seeing their king exposed to an equality of danger. William fought on horseback, leading on his army, that moved at once, singing the song of Roland, one of the famous chiefs of their country. The Normans began the fight with their cross-bows, which, at first, galled and surprised the English; and, as their ranks were close, their arrows did great execution. But soon they came to closer fight, and the English, with their bills, hewed down their adversaries with great slaughter. Confusion was spreading among the ranks, when William, who found himself on the brink of destruction, hastened, with a select

band, to the relief of his forces. His presence restored the suspense of battle; he was seen in every place endeavouring to pierce the ranks of the enemy, and had three horses slain under him. At length, perceiving that the English line continued impenetrable, he pretended to give ground; which, as he expected, drew the enemy from their ranks; and he was instantly ready to take advantage of their disorder. Upon Upon a signal given, the Normans readily returned to the charge with greater fury than before, broke the English troops, and pursued them to a rising ground. It was in this extremity that Harold was seen flying from rank to rank, rallying and inspiring his troops with vigour; and though he had toiled all day, till near night-fall, in the front of his Kentish men, he still seemed unabated in force or courage, keeping his men to the post of honour. Once more, therefore, the victory seemed to turn against the Normans, and they fell in great numbers; so that the fierceness and obstinacy of this memorable battle were often renewed by the courage of the leaders, whenever that of the soldiers began to slacken. Fortune, at length, determined a victory that valour was unable to decide. Harold making a furious onset at the head of his troops against the Norman heavy armed infantry, was shot in the brain by an arrow; and his two valiant brothers, fighting by his side, shared the same fate. He fell with his sword in his hand, amidst heaps of slain; and, after the battle, the royal corpse could hardly be distinguished among the dead. From the moment of his death, all courage seemed to forsake the English; they gave ground on every side, and were pursued with great slaughter by the victorious Normans. Thus, after a battle which was fought from morning till sun-set, the invaders proved successful, and the English crown became the reward of victory. There fell nearly fifteen thousand of the Normans, while the loss on the side of the vanquished was yet more considerable, beside that of the king and his two brothers. The next day, the dead body of Harold was brought to William, and generously restored without ransom, to his mother.

Oct. 14,

1066.

This was the end of the Saxon government in England, which had continued for more than six hundred years. Before the time of Alfred, the kings of this race seemed totally immersed in ignorance, and, after him, taken up with combating the superstition of the monks, or blindly obeying its dictates. As for the crown, during this period, it was neither wholly elective nor totally hereditary, but disposed of either by the will of the former possessor, or obtained by the eminent intrigues or services of some person nearly allied to the royal family. As for the laws and customs of this race, they brought in many long in practice among their German ancestors; but they adopted also many more which they found among the Britons, or which the Romans left behind them after their abdication. They assumed, in imitation of those nations, the name of kings; and some of them took the Greek appellation of Basileus, a title unknown to the countries from which they came. Their noblemen

also assumed names of Roman authority, being termed dukes or duces; while the lower classes of people were bought and sold with the farms they cultivated; a horrid custom, first introduced by the Greeks and Romans, and afterwards adopted by the countries they conquered. Their canon laws also, which often controlled the civil authority, had primarily their origin in Rome; and the priests and monks, who drew them up, had generally their education there. We must not, therefore, ascribe the laws and customs which then prevailed over England, entirely to Saxon original, as many of them were derived from the Britons and Romans. But, now the Saxon monarchy was no more, all customs and laws, of whatever original, were cast down into one common mass, and cemented by those of Norman institution. The whole face of obligation was altered, and the new masters instituted new modes of obedience. The laws were improved; but the taste of the people for polite learning, arts, and philosophy, for more than four hundred years after, was still to continue the same. It appears surprising enough, in such a variety of events, such innovation in military discipline, and such changes in government, that true politeness, and what is called a taste in the arts, never came to be cultivated. Perhaps the reason may be, that, while the authority of the church continued so great, the people were afraid of any knowledge but that derived to them through their clergy; and, being secluded from the ordinary conversation of mankind, they were but indifferent judges of human nature. A monk of the tenth century, and a monk of the eighteenth century, are equally refined, and equally fit to advance those studies that give us an acquaintance with ourselves, or that tend to display the mazes of the human heart.

CHAPTER V.

WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR.

A. D. 1066-1087.

NOTHING could exceed the consternation of the English upon the loss of the battle of Hastings: their king slain, the flower of their nobility cut off, and their whole army dispersed or destroyed, struck them with despair. Very little seemed now remaining but a tame submission to the victor; and William, sensible of their terror, was careful not to lose the fruits of victory by delay. Accordingly, after the pursuit of the flying enemy, and a short refreshment of his own army, he set forward on the completion of his design; and, sitting down before Dover, took it after a slight resistance, and fortified it with fresh redoubts. After a short delay at this place, he advanced by quick marches towards London, where his approach