English Villages by P. H. (Peter Hampson) Ditchfield
page 104 of 269 (38%)
page 104 of 269 (38%)
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lord heard that a great battle had been fought at Stamford Bridge, in
Yorkshire, in which their gallant King Harold had defeated his own brother Tostig, aided by the King of Norway, Hardrada, and a large army. Then the news reached them that William of Normandy had arrived, and that Harold was marching night and day to meet him. Then they heard of the fatal battle of Hastings; and when it was told them that their brave King Harold was slain, and that William, the Norman, was the conqueror of England and the acknowledged king of the country, all England groaned to hear the fatal news. And then, after a few years, they found that their old lord had been deprived of his estates, and a new, haughty, proud Norman, who talked like a Frenchman, and laughed at their dear old Saxon language, came and ruled over them. He brought Norman servants with him, who took the best of the land, and made the Saxons do all the hard work on the farm, treating them like slaves. And now we must examine a most valuable document which throws a wonderfully clear light on the condition of England just before and after the Conquest. I refer to the _Domesday Book_, or survey of the country which William caused to be made. The Anglo-Saxon chronicler tells us that after a great Council at Gloucester the king "sent his men over all England, into every shire, and caused to be ascertained how many hundred hides were in the shire, or what land the king himself had, and cattle within the land, or what dues he ought to have in twelve months from the shire. Also he caused to be written how much land his archbishops had, and his suffragan bishops, and abbots, and earls; and though I may narrate somewhat prolixly, what or how much each man had who was a holder of land in England, in land, or in cattle, and how much money it might be worth. So very narrowly he caused it to be traced out, that there was not one single hide, nor one yard of land, nor even, it is shame to tell, though it seemed to him no shame to do, an ox, nor a |
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