Danes, Saxons and Normans; or, Stories of our ancestors

by John G. Edgar

After having seated himself on the throne of Edward the Confessor, and attained the object of his ambition, William was not, perhaps, unwilling to pursue a policy of clemency and conciliation towards the Saxons. The Norman barons and knights might have been satisfied with the lands of the Saxons who had fallen at Hastings. But the numerous adventurers who had followed the Norman standard had yet to be gorged with plunder. While the Conqueror was on the Continent, these men were guilty of indiscreet severity; and the Saxons, unable to brook their insolence, formed leagues, and vowed to assert their liberty or die in its defence.

Messengers, hastily despatched, carried to Rouen intelligence of the state of affairs; and William in alarm hastened to Dieppe, and on a cold December night embarked for England. On reaching London he found that city in a ferment; and conscious that his military force was not as yet sufficient to keep down a whole nation, he resorted to artifice—called around him Saxon chiefs and prelates, promised all they asked—celebrated, in their company, the festival of Christmas—and having in this way gained over the leaders, addressed to the populace a proclamation, couched in the Saxon language, and engaging to maintain the laws of King Edward.

After making these and other promises, never intended to be kept, William left London, and proceeded westward, to pursue the work of conquest. At Exeter, where Githa, the widow of Godwin and mother of Harold, had resided since Hastings, the citizens, bent on resistance, fortified their walls, repaired their towers, and, summoning fighting men from the neighbouring country, indicated their determination to bid the Conqueror defiance.

Informed of the attitude assumed by the men of Exeter, William halted at a place four miles distant from the city, and sent, summoning the citizens to surrender and swear the oath of fidelity.

"No," answered the citizens of Exeter; "we shall swear no oath of fidelity to this pretended king, nor admit him within our walls. But if he thinks proper to receive, by way of tribute, the impost we pay to our kings, we will give it to him."

"I require subjects," was William's scornful reply, "and I will have them on no such conditions as are offered."

Without further parley, William ordered his banner to advance forthwith, and the Norman army speedily invested Exeter. Ere the assault began, however, some of the chief men, in pursuance of a secret negotiation, came to the king, demanded peace on terms of surrender, and delivered hostages. But on returning within the walls, the bulk of the citizens exclaimed against their treaty, kept the gates closed, and stood to their arms. William, who was not to be trifled with, caused one of the hostages to be brought in sight of the ramparts, and had his eyes put out. But the determination of the inhabitants was inflexible; and it was not till the siege had lasted nearly three weeks, and till forty-eight houses were destroyed, that their courage gave way, and they repaired to the Norman camp, in the attitude of suppliants, with their priests bearing missals and sacred vessels.

Having gained possession of Exeter, William ordered a strong fortress to be constructed out of the houses that had been destroyed during the siege, and proceeded with the subjugation of the west; adding Somerset and Gloucester to the conquered territory; dividing the land among his warriors; and on almost every eminence erecting strong and gloomy castles to keep the Saxons in awe. Recognising the importance of Gloucester as a barrier against the incursions of the Welsh, William fortified the north and south with embattled walls and gates, and selected its castle for his residence in winter, as he had already made the Tower of London his residence in summer, and the palace of Winchester his residence in spring.

Ere Exeter surrendered, Githa, the widow of Godwin, and a number of other women, escaped to one of the islands of the Severn; then to Bath; and from Bath gained the western coast, and embarked for Flanders. Fortunate, comparatively speaking, were those who thus betook themselves to exile. Cruel, indeed, if we are to believe historians, was the fate of those who remained. While thanes of high name and great descent were supplanted by men who had been weavers in Flanders and drovers in Normandy, their wives and sisters were degraded to the dust.