common soldiers complained and declared that God was their adversary, and had stopped the wind to keep them back. The king did not know what to say to this, but at last he hit upon something that he knew would impress them. He ordered the shrine of St. Valleri to be brought from the tomb and placed in an open field, then invited everybody to pray to the saint to intercede with the Almighty for a breeze. Crowds of people far and near, as well as the Norman soldiers, brought offerings, and in a short time the shrine was buried in the gold, silver and other precious gifts that they placed upon it. The wind did not immediately change, but the malcontents had something to think about, and the delay gave Matilda time to carry out a pleasant surprise that she had planned for her husband. One day she appeared in the harbor on a splendid vessel of war that she had caused to be built as a present for William. She called it the Mora. At the prow of the vessel was a gold image of their youngest son. With one hand he held a trumpet to his lips, and with the other a bow with the arrow aimed towards England. Loud cheering and joyful exclamations greeted Matilda's appearance, and her husband was overcome by this mark of her affection.
The Mora carried a red flag at her mast-head by day; it was replaced at night by a bright light that served as a guide for the other vessels of the fleet. Scarcely was the duke well established on board than the long wished-for wind arose, every man was summoned to his post, and they set sail. Matilda went back home.
The Norman fleet met some very rough weather and lost two of their ships. On the 28th of September, 1066, they landed on the coast of Sussex.
The duke was the last person to step on shore. As he did so, he stumbled and fell. Probably he was still giddy from the motion of the vessel, but his followers thought it an evil omen and raised a great cry of distress. The duke's presence of mind did not desert him. He picked up two handfuls of sand, exclaiming: "See, Seigneurs! by the splendor of God, I have seized England with both hands!"
Then a meal was served on the beach, and afterwards the soldiers having selected a spot, began to put up the wooden fortress that they had brought in sections, from Normandy.
A piece of Matilda's tapestry represents the soldiers, assisting the carpenters and builders in this work.
The army tarried four days on the beach. But there were no telegraphs or newspapers in those days, so Harold knew nothing of the approach of his enemy until a knight arrived from Sussex, having ridden all the way without food or rest, and rushing into his presence shouted at the top of his voice: "The Normans have come! they have landed at Hastings and built up a fort! they will rend the land from thee and thine unless thou defend it well!" Harold sent a messenger offering to buy off the Normans, but William replied that he had not come for money, but to claim the realm that Edward the Confessor had given him.
"Nay; you ask too much of us, Sire," said the messenger. "Harold is willing to purchase your departure with silver, gold and fine garments, but if you refuse, he will give you battle on Saturday night."
The duke accepted the challenge. The night preceding the battle was passed by the English in dancing, singing and gambling; but the Normans prayed, fasted, and confessed their sins.
The battle was fought seven miles from Hastings. Taillefer, the warrior minstrel of Normandy, rode gallantly
at the head of the chivalry of his native land, singing the war songs of Rollo. William had three horses killed under him that day without receiving a single scratch himself. Harold was killed, and the victorious Duke William pitched his tent on the battle-field that night.
When Matilda received the joyful tidings of her husband's triumph, she was praying in a church, which, she ordered to be forever after called Notre Dame de Bonnes Nouvelles, in memory of the good news she had received there.
A celebrated piece of embroidery made by her after the victory represents her husband pointing towards his noble steed. He is dressed in a complete suit of armor, and the likeness is said to be as perfect as it could be, represented in cross stitch.
O n the Monday following the battle of Hastings, William rode into the city of London, on horseback, followed by a long train of the nobility of England and Normandy. He proceeded to Westminster Abbey, where he was crowned King of England.
Grand preparations had been made for this event, and such a brilliant coronation had never been seen. Crowds of people gathered in the streets, and the duke's fine presence and noble bearing won all hearts.
Holding the crown aloft the archbishop asked the nobles assembled, if they were willing to receive this duke for their king. They were so boisterous in their eager assent, that the Norman soldiers who had assembled outside the Abbey in case their protection should be needed, mistook the noise for the rising of the Saxons, and set fire to most of the buildings in the neighborhood. It required prompt action on the part of the more sober-minded of the Normans, to prevent the flames from destroying the Abbey itself. William was dismayed at this occurrence, and it was not until he showed himself in his coronation robes and crown, that his followers could be restored to order and quiet.
Now, one would naturally suppose that in those rude times, Matilda's neighbors would have taken advantage of her husband's absence to invade her dominion, but she governed with so much skill and prudence that they did not venture to molest her, and she made herself universally beloved and respected.
Having recounted the good traits of this queen, it is only fair to present the bad ones too, because nobody is entirely without faults, yet it is painful to be obliged to refer to one very dark deed of which she was guilty.
She must have had a large share of vanity, for she never forgave Brihtric Meaw because he did not return her early affection, and fourteen years later she sought revenge in this wise: She persuaded her husband to deprive Meaw of all his lands and bestow them on her; then she had him put in prison where, after several months, he died. This was a very serious crime, and it is hard to understand how a woman with everything in the world to make her happy, and with qualities so fine and noble as Matilda's certainly were, could have been capable of it.
After an absence of six months, William returned to Normandy, accompanied by a number of Saxon noblemen. He brought a large quantity of costly spoils, among which were garments richly embroidered in silver and gold by the skilful hands of the Anglo-Saxon women, whose beautiful work was renowned all over the world.
The whole summer was spent by the royal couple in travelling and amusements until news was brought to William that his Saxon subjects were planning an insurrection, when he hastened back to England. He arrived before any very serious steps had been taken.
He now began to see that his position would be in every respect more agreeable, and his subjects would be better, satisfied if he had his family at court, so he sent a numerous company over to Normandy to conduct them to England.
A.D. 1068. They proceeded at once to Winchester, where the queen's coronation took place with great pomp and ceremony. In order to render it still more imposing, William had himself crowned a second time, but on this occasion there was no such excitement as disturbed the first crowning. Everybody was charmed with the graceful, majestic appearance of the new queen, though some of the Saxons objected to her being called Regina, which is the Latin word, signifying Queen. However, William insisted upon this honor being conferred on his wife; though previous to his reign all the wives of the various kings had simply been termed "the lady, his companion." To be sure, few of the queens of England could claim more illustrious descent than Matilda; for Alfred, the best and noblest of their sovereigns, was one of her ancestors, and she was connected with most of the royal families in Europe.
After the coronation ceremony, a grand banquet was served, at which both the king and queen presided.
Now, Matilda had to be served by her hew subjects, the English, because they would not have been satisfied if she had kept only her Norman ladies in attendance.
The king was so happy that he bestowed favors right and left in order to gain the affection of the nation. He also revived some of the old offices at court, which was a very popular act. Among these, was that of grand pannetier, whose duty it was to carry the salt and the carving-knives from the pantry to the king's dining-table on state occasions. His fees were the salt-cellars, spoons, knives, and bread-covers laid on the royal table. Forks were not among the luxuries of William the Conqueror's day, when people must have verified the proverb of later times, that "fingers were made before forks." The Manor of Addington was presented to the cook for preparing a kind of white soup that tickled his majesty's palate.
During the grand coronation banquet, a noble cavalier, named Marmion, rode into the hall on horseback, completely armed, and shouted out three times: "If anybody denies that our most gracious sovereign Lord William, and his spouse Matilda, are King and Queen of England, he is a false-hearted traitor and liar, and here I do challenge him to single combat."
Nobody accepted the challenge.
Under a glass case' at the Museum of Bayeux is preserved to this very day, a piece of canvas, nineteen inches broad and sixty-seven yards long, on which Queen Matilda embroidered the whole conquest of England by her husband. There are many hundred figures of men, horses, birds, beasts, houses, trees, castles, and churches, all done in their proper colors.
The designs were made by a dwarf artist named Turold, who seems to have been farsighted enough to know that the work would become celebrated, for he has curiously managed to introduce his own figure or name on the canvas wherever it was possible.
After William and his wife were seated on the throne, there was a season of tranquillity. Then the Conqueror laid the foundation for the great Tower of London, as well as other strong fortresses. But revolts began again, and the Normans demanded the return of Matilda. She resolved to gratify them, but in so doing displeased the English, for they knew that during her absence there would be fewer celebrations at court, and they would thus be deprived of opportunities for disposing of their fine goods.
A.D. 1069. All the working people were affected, more or less, by her departure, and they got into a habit of gathering at each other's houses to discuss their wrongs and grievances. Fearing that they might stimulate one another to revolt, William instituted the Curfew, or the tolling of a bell, at eight o'clock every evening. This was a signal for all the lights and fires to be put out in the dwellings; the word was originally couvre feu, which means extinguishing fires.
Then William made war in the north of England and laid waste the whole country. In one of the battles a fair young Saxon, who was engaged to one of the king's daughters, was killed.
As time went on, Norman customs were adopted in England, and that dialect, which was a mixture of French and Danish, became popular. The learned wrote and conversed in Latin.
Now, the ladies of Normandy, whose husbands were fighting William's battles, began to grow tired of the long separation; besides, certain bits of gossip that came over the water to them aroused their jealousy. So, many of them insisted on recalling their lords who, for the sake of peace, were obliged to desert the king, and obey. The queen herself set a very bad example, for growing jealous of a daughter of one of the priests, she actually had the poor girl secretly put to death. When William went to Normandy, he beat her severely for this shameful deed.
Such treatment does not seem to have surprised her very much, though, for she forgave him just as she did for a similar indignity before her marriage, and the royal couple were soon living on the most amicable terms again.
But there was one serious cause of disagreement between them. It was the great affection that the queen felt for her eldest son Robert. She loved him better than any of her other children, while the third son, William Rufus, was the king's favorite.
Robert was a proud, self-willed, quick-tempered lad, who always wanted to rule, and the position of trust and importance that he had filled in Normandy during his father's absence had encouraged this disposition. He was spoiled, and showed an inclination to rebel when William resumed the reins of government.
A.D. 1076. One day when he was walking with some companions around the castle, his two younger brothers, William Rufus and Richard, with a desire for boyish fun, threw some dirty water out of the window directly on his head. Instead of receiving the joke good-naturedly, or retaliating as any brother might be expected to do, Robert flew into a passion, and with a drawn sword in his hand rushed up-stairs, declaring that he would kill the offenders. A great tumult ensued, and it was only the appearance of their father who burst into the room, flourishing his sword, and pronouncing angry threats, that prevented fatal consequences.
That evening Robert privately withdrew from court with a party of young nobles who were attached to him. He stood upon his dignity and refused to bow to his father's will.
About this time the Princess Constance married, and shortly after Princess Cicely entered a convent.
Then the queen received a severe blow in the death of her second son, Richard, a prince of most amiable disposition and studious habits. But Robert's bad conduct and his disrespectful behavior towards his father gave her more real sorrow than anything else in the world.
After a short absence he sought the king's presence and made a request that he should be appointed Sovereign of Normandy, saying, "It is my right; have you not promised to bestow it on me?"
"It is not my custom to strip until I go to bed," replied the king, adding some wholesome advice.
Then Robert, becoming impertinent,' said he did not come to listen to sermons, and angrily withdrew. He immediately went to live with his uncle, the Earl of Flanders. There he lived such a wild, extravagant life that his mother was frequently called upon to supply him with extra funds. When her private purse was empty, she sold her jewels and even her garments to provide the wicked youth with what he demanded.
All this was kept secret from William, which was certainly very wrong. But he found it out at last, and it need scarcely be said, that he was exceedingly angry. However, he did not beat his wife this time; perhaps he had heard before of women making sacrifices for their children, but he was hurt at Matilda's lack of confidence in him, and told her very truly, "The woman who deceives her husband is the destruction of her own house." She defended herself so well, that he forgave her at last, and continued to love her till the very end of her life.
But somebody had to be punished, and the victim was the agent who had forwarded the money to Robert, and attended to the selling of the queen's jewels and garments. The poor man was condemned to have his eyes put out. Filled with terror, he ran to a monastery, where, within twenty-four hours he was shaven and shorn and became a professed monk. Thus was he protected.
Robert's ambition would not let him rest, so he prepared an attack on England. There was a furious battle, and it so happened, that in the midst of it a hand to hand encounter took place between father and son. William was run through the arm with his adversary's lance and unhorsed. It is to be hoped, that as the warriors wore their visors down they did not recognize each other, for it would be horrible to think of a father's being intentionally wounded by his own flesh and blood. He cried out so loudly that he was known at once; then Robert raised him tenderly from the ground and begged to be forgiven, while he placed the wounded king on his own horse and led him to a place of safety.
It was a long time after the battle, in which Robert came off victorious, before he was blessed with his father's forgiveness, and this was brought about by the over-fond mother. Her health had suffered so much on account of the constant anxiety to which she was subjected, that William granted her request to invite his erring son home. But Robert was never admitted to his father's confidence.
A.D. 1078. It was William the Conqueror who established the celebrated Doomsday Book which contained a survey of all the lands throughout England. The object of this book was to enable the sovereign so to regulate taxes as to feel sure that he received as much as he dared exact from each subject.
It was while her husband was making one of his expeditions to Normandy that Queen Matilda heard of a German hermit who was renowned for his gift of prophecy. She sent to consult him as to what was likely to be the result of the ill feeling existing between her husband and Robert.
The hermit required three days for his reply, which was: "Tell your mistress that the Most High has made known to me in a dream, what she desires to hear. I saw in my vision, a pasture covered with grass and flowers. A noble charger was feeding thereon. A numerous herd gathered near eager to share the feast, but the charger would not permit them to approach. But, alas! suddenly he dropped dead, and a poor silly steer appeared in his place. He had no power to keep off the meaner animals, so they all rushed into the field and trampled down the grass and flowers that they failed to devour. This is the explanation:
"The noble steed is William the Conqueror, who by his wisdom and power keeps his surrounding foes in awe. The dull beast is Robert, who will succeed him. The other animals are the envious princes who are waiting for an opportunity to attack the fields of Normandy, and destroy the land. If the illustrious lady do not labor to restore peace, there will be nothing but misery, ruin, and desolation to her beloved country." This message came close upon the death of the Princess Constance, and added so much to Matilda's sorrow that her health broke down, and she died. She had reigned seventeen years, and was the first Anglo-Norman Queen of England.
Matilda's funeral was conducted with great pomp, and the tomb that was placed over her grave was a mass of sculpture and precious stones.
The king mourned the loss of his noble companion for many days; he gave up all his favorite sports and became an irritable, melancholy man. He survived his wife only four years.
Then Robert got possession of Normandy, but his attempt to place himself on the throne of England shortly afterwards failed.
A.D. 1087. William Rufus, called the Red King on account of the color of his hair, succeeded William the Conqueror, and his brother Henry became king when he died. Robert ended his life in a prison, after being shut up in it for twenty-eight years.
This princess is called "The Good Queen," a title that shows how dear she must have been to her subjects, and how much she must have done to promote their happiness. She is the only princess of Scotland who ever shared the throne of an English king.
Her aunt, Christina Atheling, was Abbess of Rumsey, and did all she could to influence Matilda to take the veil and enter a convent. But this was very displeasing to her father, the King of Scotland, and one day when she entered his presence with a nun's veil fastened to her head, he indignantly tore it to pieces, saying that he intended her to become a wife some day, not a nun. This circumstance made such an impression on her youthful mind, that she never forgot it.
When the king made this remark, there was a young man present whose name was Alan, Duke of Bretagne. He was the widower of Constance, William the Conqueror's daughter, consequently much too old for Matilda; nevertheless, he made up his mind on the spot that he would make her his wife if he could get her consent.
But now we must tell something about the illustrious mother of this princess, to whom she was indebted for her earliest lessons in piety and virtue.
Her name was Margaret, and her parents were Edward Atheling, surnamed the Outlaw, and a daughter of Henry II. of Germany.
A.D. 1068. When she was a young lady, her family determined to leave England and take up their residence in Hungary, but the ship on which they embarked became disabled, and was driven by a storm into the Frith of Forth. Malcolm Canmore, who was King of Scotland, chanced to be present when they arrived, and so struck was he with the extreme beauty of the Lady Margaret, that a few days later he demanded her hand in marriage. This offer pleased her brother Edgar Atheling very much, because, not only was it a fine thing to have his sister in such a lofty position, but Malcolm had received them all so kindly and hospitably that he had made an excellent impression, so Edgar joyfully gave his consent.
The spot where Margaret first set foot on Scottish soil is to this day called Queen's Ferry in memory of the circumstance.
Now, Malcolm could neither read nor write, and he was so rough and wild, that many of her Saxon friends objected to so pure and intellectual a girl as Margaret uniting herself to him. She loved him, however, and immediately after her marriage she set to work to reform her household as well as she could, and to introduce religious ceremonies, which were sadly wanting..
Her husband felt her superiority, and had so much confidence in her judgment that he left the entire control of the royal household in her hands. He entertained such respect and admiration for her virtues as well as her mental qualities, that her influence over him was excellent.
All persons who were leading bad, immoral lives were dismissed from the court, and no one was allowed to hold an office of any kind who failed in honesty or sobriety.
Although grace was said daily after each meal, by Turgot, the court chaplain, the Scotch nobles were in the habit of leaving the table as soon as they had satisfied their
stomachs, without waiting for the grace. This displeased Margaret, and she began to consider what she could do to keep them in their seats without commanding them to stay. At last her woman's ingenuity fixed upon this arrangement. She ordered a cup of the very choicest wine in the royal cellar to be served to each man after grace, and by degrees she had the satisfaction of seeing not a single vacant chair at table so long as Turgot remained. In time the "grace cup" became an established custom not only at court, but in the castles of the nobility, and the dwellings of the humbler classes throughout the land.
Margaret was also a devoted mother, and bestowed a great deal of care upon the education of her seven children. The learned Turgot was their preceptor and confessor, and when the queen was dying she said to him: "Farewell! my life is drawing to a close; to you I commit the care of my children; teach them above all things to love and fear God."
Her husband had been killed by treachery a short time previously, so the five princes and two princesses were left orphans.
Their uncle Edgar was very kind to them all, and placed the girls, Matilda and Mary, at the convent, with their aunt Christina, where he knew that they would have a better training and education than he could possibly bestow on them. There they remained for a long time, and were carefully instructed in the art of reading as well as in good manners.
Christina always hoped that they would both become nuns, and considering that they were entirely under her influence, with no parents, their brothers at a distance, and no home but the convent, it seems strange that they did not. But they were reserved for another fate.
In those rude times the Norman nobles were so rough and uncultivated that they had no respect for any woman excepting those consecrated to religion, consequently it was a common custom for young girls to dress in nun's attire for protection.
But Christina made her nieces wear the great, thick, heavy, black veil because it was all settled in her mind that it was to be forever, and whenever she saw Matilda without hers, she scolded her and treated her very harshly. Poor Matilda found it so uncomfortable, and no doubt unbecoming too, that she wept many a bitter tear over the infliction, and the moment she was out of her stern aunt's sight, she would fling the veil on the ground and stamp upon it. During the seven long years that she spent in the dreary convent, she must, many a time, have wished for her dear father to relieve her, as he once did.
Matilda was passionately fond of music and devoted much time and attention to this art. When she became Queen of England she was exceedingly liberal in her rewards to those monks who sang the church service well, and did everything in her power to encourage them.
While at the convent, this princess received two offers of marriage. The first was from the Alan, to whom we referred at the beginning of this biography. But fortunately for her he died before she was called upon to give an answer, for she positively asserted that she would rather wear the odious veil forever than wed him. The other offer was from the young and handsome William Warren, Earl of Surrey. But him she did not love, and although he was one of the richest and most powerful of the baronets of England or Normandy, she refused him. She was somewhat sly on this occasion, for she pleaded her devotion to a religious life as excuse, though the real one was the affection she entertained for Henry, fourth son of William the Conqueror.
She was then at Wilton Abbey, near Winchester, the favorite home of the Norman king. Edgar Atheling, who was very fond of his niece, went frequently to see her, and Henry sometimes accompanied him. On such occasions it is probable that Matilda managed to leave off her veil, for she was too pretty not to be somewhat vain, and Henry was too young and ardent not to have his heart touched by her charms.
This prince was surnamed Beauclerc because he was such a good student, and Matilda was so well, educated herself that she could appreciate his intellect and accomplishments. Therefore she preferred him to Warren, and no doubt by a whispered word, or a sly glance, succeeded in letting him know it.
Of all William the Conqueror's sons, Henry was most in favor among the English, owing to his having been born on their soil: nevertheless it was a long time before he became king.
When on his deathbed, his father called Henry to him and made the following prophecy: "Thy elder brothers may go before thee. Robert shall have Normandy, and William shall have England, but thou shalt be inheritor of all my honors, and shalt excel both thy brethren in riches and power."
This dying prophecy was not fulfilled until he was thirty-two years old, when Wat Tyrrel's arrow placed him on the throne. It happened in this way: William Rufus, with his brother Henry and a large party of attendants, were hunting one day, when Henry, by some mistake, was separated from the others and found himself quite alone in an adjoining forest. Suddenly, the string of his cross-bow snapped, and he entered the hut of the nearest forester to have it mended.
A shrivelled-up old woman, who sat on the hearth-stone and looked like one of the witches in Macbeth, saluted him as king. He was very much surprised at this, and began to assure her that she had made a mistake. Without heeding his reply, she continued in a cracked voice, holding up her long, bony forefinger in token of warning,
"Hasty news to thee I bring,
Henry, thou art now a king;
Mark the words and heed them well,
Which to thee in sooth I tell,
And recall them in the hour
Of thy regal state and power."
Henry was amazed, but had no time to reply before the Red King's attendants surrounded the door of the hut with news that their Sovereign had been shot and instantly killed. Wat Tyrrel's arrow had accidentally struck him in the head, and the unlucky marksman had fled to escape punishment.
Prince Henry did not wait to weep over the sad fate of his brother, nor even to see his body properly cared for, but jumped into the saddle and made speed for Winchester. The cause of this haste was that the royal treasurer, who happened to be present at the chase, declared emphatically that the crown now belonged to Robert, and started on a race with Henry to announce it at the Norman palace. But Robert was in the Holy Land, so, with drawn sword, Henry forced the treasurer to give up his keys, and at once took possession of the royal robes, jewels, and regalia. This high-handed action caused dissatisfaction among those nobles who owned lands in Normandy, for they were desirous that their duke should succeed; so it was resolved to settle the question in the council chamber. All the
nobles and prelates assembled, and while they were debating the matter, Henry gathered a crowd about him in the street, and eloquently pleaded his own cause. First he reminded them that he was a born Englishman, then he made the most flattering promises, and concluded his speech by assuring them that they should have an English queen, and be governed by English laws. Loud shouts and hurrahs greeted his ears, and "Long live Henry, King of England!" passed from mouth to mouth, until it was taken up in the council hall itself, and thus, by the voice of the people was the succession settled.
On the day after this scene Henry was crowned at Westminster Abbey. The promises he made he fully intended to execute, and set about his work of reform without delay. His popularity increased, and when he made known his intention to marry Matilda, a descendant of their beloved King Alfred, and a girl educated in England, it met with great favor.
He then made a formal proposal for her to her brother, the King of Scotland. But the Abbess Christina was determined not to give her up without a struggle, moreover, she was a Saxon, and objected to having the Norman line strengthened by such a union, so she declared that Matilda was a consecrated nun, whom it would be a sacrilege to marry.
Henry did not dare to act in defiance of the church, though he had resolved on this marriage, so he wrote to the Archbishop of Canterbury asking advice. That prelate refused to decide so important a question alone, but summoned a council of churchmen, before whom Matilda was requested to appear.
This must have been a most embarrassing ordeal for a young girl brought up in the strict seclusion of a convent, but she was equal to it, and answered all the questions put to her clearly and intelligibly. They asked her whether she had taken any vows, saying that if so, no motive could induce them to consent to their being broken. The princess denied that she had ever done so. The archbishop asked her if she had not worn the black veil at her father's court, and subsequently in the nunneries of Rumsey and Wilton.
"I do not deny," she replied, "having worn the veil in my father's court, for when I was a child my aunt Christina put a piece of black cloth over my head; but when my father saw it, he snatched it off in great rage, and swore at the person who had put it on me, observing at the same time that it was his intention to give me in marriage, not to devote me to the church."
Then she told how she had worn the veil for protection at first, and afterwards, because her aunt would beat and scold her whenever she left it off.
This explanation was considered perfectly satisfactory, and the council pronounced Matilda free to contract marriage with the king.
Now, although she loved Henry, and certainly had no desire to remain longer in the convent, yet she hesitated about getting married because she had heard the king was not so good and virtuous as he ought to be, and she feared to trust her happiness in his keeping. But those connected with the Saxon royal line entreated her with these words: "O most noble and most gracious of women, if thou wouldst, thou couldst raise up the ancient honor of England, thou wouldst be a pledge of reconciliation; but if thou refusest, the enmity between the Saxon and Norman races will be eternal; human blood will never cease to flow."
This was a strong argument in favor of her marriage. She was to become a bond of peace to a divided nation,
and she ceased to object when Henry promised to be a constitutional monarch, and observe the laws and privileges established by Alfred.
Three years and six months after his coronation Henry and Matilda were married, and the latter was crowned at Westminster. Before performing the ceremony, the archbishop stood up in the pulpit, and related the whole history of the princess's life, because he wanted to leave no room for doubt that she was justified in getting married. He then asked in a loud tone whether anybody present had an objection to raise. All declared that the matter was rightly settled.
This marriage proved one of the happiest events for the English nation, for the queen's thoughts were always for the common people, and she urged her husband to grant them all their rights and privileges. One of his first acts was to abolish the curfew at her request, for she said that everybody ought to be permitted to sit up and enjoy an evening chat just as long as they pleased.
Henry's Anglo-Saxon subjects soon became so warmly attached to him, that they were anxious to show him an allegiance which the stern laws of his father, or of the Red King, never could have forced from them. They loved the queen also, because they knew that a great deal of their happiness was the result of her good influence.