It is said, that he then received the fullest assurances of being appointed to the succession, and that Harold himself had been sent soon after into Normandy to settle whatever related to it. This is an obscure transaction; and would, if it could be cleared up, convey but little instruction. So that whether we believe, or not, that William had engaged Harold by a solemn oath to secure him the kingdom, we know, that he afterwards set up a will of King Edward in his favour, which, however, he never produced, and probably never had to produce. In these delicate circumstances Harold was not wanting to himself. By the most equitable laws, and the most popular behaviour, he sought to secure the affections of his subjects; and he succeeded so well, that when he marched against the king of Norway, who had invaded his kingdom and taken York, without difficulty he raised a numerous army of gallant men, zealous for his cause and their country. He obtained a signal and decisive victory over the Norwegians. The king Harfager, and the traitor Tosti, who had joined him, were slain in the battle; and the Norwegians were forced to evacuate the country. Harold had however but little time to enjoy the fruits of his victory.

Scarce had the Norwegians departed, when William duke of Normandy landed in the southern part of the kingdom with an army of 60,000 chosen men, and struck a general terrour through all the nation, which was well acquainted with the character of the commander, and the courage and discipline of his troops.

The Normans were the posterity of those Danes, who had so long and so cruelly harassed the British islands, and the shore of the adjoining continent. In the days of King Alfred a body of these adventurers, under their leader Rollo, made an attempt upon England; but so well did they find every spot defended by the vigilance and bravery of that great monarch, that they were compelled to retire. Beaten from these shores, the stream of their impetuosity bore towards the northern parts of France, which had been reduced to the most deplorable condition by their former ravages. Charles the Simple then sat on the throne of that kingdom; unable to resist this torrent of barbarians, he was obliged to yield to it; he agreed to give up to Rollo the large and fertile province of Neustria, to hold of him as his feudatory. This province, from the new inhabitants, was called Normandy. Five princes succeeded Rollo, who maintained with great bravery, and cultivated with equal wisdom, his conquests. The ancient ferocity of this people was a little softened by their settlement; but the bravery, which had made the Danes so formidable, was not extinguished in the Normans, nor the spirit of enterprise. Not long before this period, a private gentleman of Normandy, by his personal bravery, had acquired the kingdom of Naples. Several | others followed his fortunes, who added Sicily to it. From one end of Europe to the other the Norman name was known, respected, and feared.

Robert, the sixth duke of Normandy, to expiate some crime, which lay heavy upon his conscience, resolved, according to the ideas of that time, upon a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. It was in vain that his nobility, whom he had assembled to notify this resolution to them, represented to him the miserable state to which his country would be reduced, abandoned by its prince, and uncertain of a legal successour. The duke was not to be moved from his resolution, which appeared but the more meritorious from the difficulties which attended it. He presented to the states William, then an infant, born of an obscure woman, whom, notwithstanding, he doubted not to be his son; him he appointed to succeed him he recommended to their virtue and loyalty; and then solemnly resigning the government in his favour, he departed on the pilgrimage, from whence he never returned. The states, hesitating some time between the mischiefs that attend the allowing an illegitimate succession, and those which might arise from admitting foreign pretensions, thought the former the least prejudicial, and accordingly swore allegiance to William; but this oath was not sufficient to establish a right so doubtful. The dukes of Burgundy and Britanny, as well as several Norman noblemen, had specious titles. The endeavours of all these disquieted the reign of the young prince with perpetual troubles. In these troubles he was formed early in life to vigilance, activity, secrecy, and a conquest over all those passions, whether bad or good, which obstruct the way to greatness. He had to contend with all the neighbouring princes; with the seditions of a turbulent and unfaithful nobility, and the treacherous protection of his feudal lord the king of France.

All of these in their turns, sometimes all of these together, distressed him. But with the most unparalleled good fortune and conduct he overcame all opposition, and triumphed over every enemy: raising his power and reputation above that of all his ancestors, as much as he was exalted by his bravery above the princes of his own time.

Such was the prince, who, on a pretended claim from the will of King Edward, supported by the common and popular pretence of punishing offenders and redressing grievances, landed at Pevensey in Sussex, to contest the crown with Harold. Harold had no sooner advice of his landing than he advanced to meet him with all possible diligence; but there did not appear in his army, upon this occasion, the same unanimity and satisfaction, which animated it on its march against the Norwegians. An ill-timed economy in Harold, which made him refuse to his soldiers the plunder of the Norwegian camp, had created a general discontent. Several deserted, and the soldiers, who remained, followed heavily a leader, under whom there was no hope of plunder, the greatest incitement of the soldiery. Notwithstanding this ill disposition, Harold still urged forward, and by forced marches advanced within seven miles of the enemy. The Norman, on his landing, is said to have sent away his ships, that his army might have no way of

safety but in conquest; yet had he fortified his camp, and taken every prudent precaution, that so considerable an enterprise should not be reduced to a single effort of despair. When the armies, charged with the decision of so mighty a contest, had approached each other, Harold paused awhile. A great deal depended on his conduct at this critical time. The most experienced in the council of war, who knew the condition of their troops, were of opinion, that the engagement ought to be deferred; that the country ought to be wasted; that, as the winter approached, the Normans would in all probability be obliged to retire of themselves; that, if this should not happen, the Norman army was without resources; whilst the English would be every day considerably augmented, and might attack their enemy at a time and manner, which might make their success certain. To all these reasons nothing was opposed but a false point of honour, and a mistaken courage in Harold; who urged his fate, and resolved on an engagement. The Norman, as soon as he perceived that the English were determined on a battle, left his camp to post himself in an advantageous situation, in which his whole army remained the night which preceded the action.

This night was spent in a manner, which prognosticated the event of the following day. On the part of the Normans it was spent in prayer, and in a cool and steady preparation for the engagement; on the side of the English in riot, and a vain confidence, that neglected all the necessary preparations. The two armies met in the morning; from seven to five the battle was fought with equal vigour; until at last the Norman army pretending to break in confusion, a stratagem to which they had been regularly formed, the English, elated with success, suffered that firm order, in which their security consisted, to dissipate; which when William observed, he gave the signal to his men to regain their former disposition, and fall upon the English, broken and dispersed. Harold in this emergency did every thing which became him, every thing possible to collect his troops and to renew the engagement; but whilst he flew from place to place, and in all places restored the battle, an arrow pierced his brain; and he died a king, in a manner worthy of a warriour. The English immediately fled; the rout was total, and the slaughter prodigious.

The consternation which this defeat and the death of Harold produced over the kingdom, was more fatal than the defeat itself. If William had marched directly to London, all contest had probably been at an end; but he judged it more prudent to secure the sea coast, to make way for reinforcements; distrusting his fortune in his success more than he had done in his first attempts. He marched to Dover, where the effect of his victory was such, that the strong castle there surrendered without resistance. Had this fortress made any tolerable defence, the English would have had leisure to rouse from their consternation, and plan some rational method for continuing the war; but

now the conqueror was on full march to London, whilst the English were debating concerning the measures they should take, and doubtful in what manner they should fill the vacant throne. However, in this emergency it was necessary to take some resolution. The party of Edgar Atheling prevailed: and he was owned king by the city of London, which even at this time was exceedingly powerful, and by the greatest part of the nobility then present. But his reign was of a short duration. William advanced by hasty marches; and, as he approached, the perplexity of the English redoubled; they had done nothing for the defence of the city. They had no reliance on their new king; they suspected one another; there was no authority, no order, no counsel; a confused and ill-sorted assembly of unwarlike people, of priests, burghers, and nobles, confounded with them in the general panick, struck down by the consternation of the late defeat, and trembling under the bolts of the papal excommunication, were unable to plan any method of defence: insomuch that, when he had passed the Thames and drew near to London, the clergy, the citizens, and the greater part of the nobles, who had so lately set the crown on the head of Edgar, went out to meet him: they submitted to him, and having brought him in triumph to Westminster, he was there solemnly crowned King of England. The whole nation followed the example of London; and one battle gave England to the Normans, which had cost the Romans, the Saxons, and Danes, so much time and blood to acquire.

At first view it is very difficult to conceive how this could have happened to a powerful nation, in which it does not appear that the conqueror had one partisan. It stands a single event in history, unless, perhaps, we may compare it with the reduction of Ireland some time after by Henry the Second. An attentive consideration of the state of the kingdom at that critical time may, perhaps, in some measure lay open to us the cause of this extraordinary revolution.

The nobility of England, in which its strength consisted, was much decayed. Wars and confiscations, but above all the custom of Gavelkind, had reduced that body very low. At the same time some few families had been raised to a degree of power unknown in the ancient Saxon times, and dangerous in all. Large possessions, and a larger authority, were annexed to the offices of the Saxon magistrates, whom they called Aldermen. This authority, in their long and bloody wars with the Danes, it was found necessary to encrease, and often to encrease beyond the ancient limits. Aldermen were created for life; they were then frequently made hereditary; some were vested with a power over others; and at this period we begin to hear of dukes, who governed over several shires, and had many aldermen subject to them. These officers found means to turn the royal bounty into an instrument of becoming independent of its authority. Too great to obey, and too little to protect, they were a dead weight upon the country.

able power, and the more considerable, because it | depended upon influence rather than institution; influence among so free a people being the principal source of power. But this authority, great as it was, never could by its very nature be stretched to despotism; because any despotick act would have shocked the only principle, by which that authority was supported, the general good opinion. On the other hand, it could not have been bounded by any positive laws, because laws can hardly subsist amongst a people, who have not the use of letters. It was a species of arbitrary power, softened by the popularity from whence it arose. It came from popular opinion, and by popular opinion it was corrected. If people so barbarous as the Germans have no laws, they have yet customs, that serve in their room; and these customs operate amongst them better than laws, because they become a sort of nature both to the governours and the governed. This circumstance in some measure removed all fear of the abuse of authority, and induced the Germans to permit their chiefs to decide upon matters of lesser moment, their private differences, for so Tacitus explains the minores res. These chiefs were a sort of judges, but not legislators; nor do they appear to have had a share in the superiour branches of the executive part of government, the business of peace and war, and every thing of a publick nature, being determined, as we have before remarked, by the whole body of the people, according to a maxim general among the Germans; that what concerned all ought to be handled by all. Thus were delineated the faint and incorrect outlines of our constitution, which has since been so nobly fashioned and so highly finished. This fine system, says Montesquieu, was invented in the woods; but whilst it remained in the woods, and for a long time after, it was far from being a fine one; no more indeed than a very imperfect attempt at government, a system for a rude and barbarous people, calculated to maintain them in their barbarity.

The ancient state of the Germans was military; so that the orders, into which they were distributed, their subordination, their courts, and every part of their government, must be deduced from an attention to a military principle.

The ancient German people, as all the other northern tribes, consisted of freemen and slaves; the freemen professed arms, the slaves cultivated the ground. But men were not allowed to profess arms at their own will, nor until they were admitted to that dignity by an established order, which at a certain age separated the boys from men. For when a young man approached to virility,† he was not yet admitted as a member of the state, which was quite military, until he had been invested with a spear in the publick assembly of his tribe; and then he was adjudged proper to carry arms, and also to assist in the publick de

They had no other nobility; yet several families amongst them were considered as noble.

↑ Arma sumere non ante cuiquam_moris, quàm civitas suffecturum probaverit.-Tacitus de Mor. Germ. 13.

Nihil autem neque publicæ neque privatæ rei nisi armati agunt. Id. ibid.

This

liberations, which were always held armed. spear he generally received from the hand of some old and respected chief, under § whom he commonly entered himself, and was admitted among his followers. No man could stand out as an independent individual, but must have enlisted in one of these military fraternities; and as soon as he had so enlisted, immediately he became bound to his leader in the strictest dependence, which was confirmed by an oath, || and to his brethren in a common vow for their mutual support in all dangers, and for the advancement and the honour of their common chief. This chief was styled senior, lord, and the like terms, which marked out a superiority in age and merit; the followers were called ambacti, comites, leuds, vassals, and other terms, marking submission and dependence. This was the very first origin of civil, or rather military, government amongst the ancient people of Europe; and it arose from the connexion, that necessarily was created between the person who gave the arms, or knighted the young man, and him that received them; which implied, that they were to be occupied in his service who originally gave them. These principles it is necessary strictly to attend to, because they will serve much to explain the whole course both of government and real property, wherever the German nations obtained a settlement; the whole of their government depending for the most part upon two principles in our nature,-ambition, that makes one man desirous, at any hazard or expence, of taking the lead amongst others; and admiration, which makes others equally desirous of following him from the mere pleasure of admiration, and a sort of secondary ambition, one of the most universal passions among men. These two principles, strong both of them in our nature, create a voluntary inequality and dependence. But amongst equals in condition, there could be no such bond, and this was supplied by confederacy; and as the first of these principles created the senior and the knight, the second produced the conjurati fratres, which, sometimes as a more extensive, sometimes as a stricter bond, are perpetually mentioned in the old laws and histories.

The relation between the lord and the vassal produced another effect,--that the leader was obliged to find sustenance for his followers; and to maintain them at his table, or give them some equivalent in order to their maintenance. It is plain from these principles, that this service on one hand, and this obligation to support on the other, could not have originally been hereditary, but must have been entirely in the free choice of the parties.

But it is impossible, that such a polity could long have subsisted by election alone. For in the first place, that natural love, which every man has to his own kindred, would make the chief willing to perpetuate the power and dignity he acquired

§ Cæteri robustioribus ac jam pridem probatis aggregantur. Id. ibid. Illum defendere, tueri, sua quoque fortia facta ejus gloriæ assignare præcipuum sacramentum est. Id. 14.