the expedition that
crushed a Breton revolt, and chased its leader to the dangerous
quicksands of St. Michael's Mount. Certainly too, an oath of some kind
was plighted between the host and his somewhat unwilling guest. In
this the Duke must have made mention of the promise given by Edward
the Confessor as to the English Succession. This Edward it will be
remembered was one of the Saxon princes who had lived for some time in
Rouen, and was always fond of his Norman mother and her friends.
Mention is also made of a betrothal of William's daughter to the Earl.
In any case, we may be sure that Harold was sufficiently engaged to
satisfy the politic Duke before he was allowed to return to England.
Nor may we imagine that the next news which came across the Channel
was wholly unexpected. For as the Duke was hunting with his courtiers
and squires in his pleasaunce at Quevilly, across the Seine from
Rouen, a messenger brought the tidings that Edward the Confessor was
dead, and that Harold son of Godwin had seized the throne. Wace
describes how Fitz-Osbern paced up and down the hunting-hall with his
master as they discussed the news, and the Duke soon made his mind up
as to the course to be pursued. A message was at once sent over to
Harold, reminding him of the famous Oath, which had been taken, as
some say, and according to the suggestions in the Bayeux Tapestry,
over the sacred relics of the saints. What the Duke had expected and
even hoped for, of course happened. Harold repudiated all knowledge of
a binding agreement as to the Succession, and Normandy could
thenceforth call upon the outraged Sanctity of Religion to help her in
what was cleverly published as a Holy War.

Now the full effects of the religious trend in William's policy were
seen at last, as clearly as was the wisdom of his own carefully
religious life. The champion of the poor, the fatherless and the
widow, the worshipper and communicant in Rouen Cathedral, the builder
of hospitals and monasteries, above all the friend of Lanfranc, was
easily able to secure the voice of the Pope in favour of a claim based
not on heredity, not on election, not on bequest, but made by virtue
of the personal injury done to him by Harold, and made to avenge the
insulted saints of Normandy by recalling pagan England into the fold
of Rome. Never were the highest motives so skilfully interwoven with
appeals to lower instincts in the mingled crowd whom the Duke William
gathered to his