erwards rendered famous by the imprisonment there
of Sir Walter Raleigh.

Although the great fortress-palace was to subsequently acquire a most
sinister reputation as a state prison, yet the present is the first
recorded instance of the committal of a great and notorious offender to
its dungeon cells. Subsequently, however, the severity of the bishop's
imprisonment appears to have been somewhat mitigated, for the King
ordered him to be allowed the large sum of two shillings a day for his
maintenance; so that, although a prisoner, he was enabled to fare
sumptuously.

One day after the Christmas of 1101, a long rope having been secretly
conveyed to him, concealed in a cask of wine, by one of his servants, he
caused a plentiful banquet to be served up, to which he invited his
keepers, and having intoxicated them to such a degree that they slept
soundly, the bishop secured the cord to a mullion in one of the double
windows of the southern wall-gallery in the keep, and, catching up his
pastoral staff, began to lower himself down. Having forgotten to put on
gloves, and being a heavy, stout man, the rope severely lacerated his
hands, and as it did not reach the ground he fell some feet and was
severely bruised. His trusty followers had horses in readiness, on one
of which they mounted him. The party fled to the coast, took ship, and
crossed over to Normandy to seek refuge with Duke Robert.[20] After some
time had elapsed, he contrived to make his peace with Henry, who allowed
him to return to England, when he regained his See of Durham, of which
he completed the cathedral, and also added to the works of the great
castle there. The window from which he is supposed to have escaped is
over sixty-five feet from the ground, and his evasion was evidently
considered at the time a most audacious and remarkable feat, as more
than one contemporary chronicler gives a very detailed and
circumstantial account of it.

It is not until the Edwardian period of our history that we find castles
used as places for the secure detention of captives. In the earlier
Norman times dungeons were of little use, their policy being one of
ruthless extermination, or of mutilation, in order to strike terror into
rebellious populations.[21] Only persons of the most exalted rank, such
as Duke Robert of Normandy, Bishops Odo, of Bayeux, and Ralph Flambard,
of Durham, Earl Roger, the son of William FitzOsbern, with a few
distinguished Saxon captives, underwen