f feudal loyalty to their spiritual
protectors; did homage to the Virgin for the lands that she vouchsafed to
bestow, and recognised in St. Michael the chief who conducted their
armies.

After hearing the complin vespers in the temporary chapel fitted up in
that unfinished abbey of Westminster, which occupied the site of the
temple of Apollo [53], the King and his guests repaired to their evening
meal in the great hall of the palace. Below the dais were ranged three
long tables for the knights in William's train, and that flower of the
Saxon nobility who, fond, like all youth, of change and imitation,
thronged the court of their Normanised saint, and scorned the rude
patriotism of their fathers. But hearts truly English were not there.
Yea, many of Godwin's noblest foes sighed for the English-hearted Earl,
banished by Norman guile on behalf of English law.

At the oval table on the dais the guests were select and chosen. At the
right hand of the King sat William; at the left Odo of Bayeux. Over these
three stretched a canopy of cloth of gold; the chairs on which each sate
were of metal, richly gilded over, and the arms carved in elaborate
arabesques. At this table too was the King's nephew, the Earl of
Hereford, and, in right of kinsmanship to the Duke, the Norman's beloved
baron and grand seneschal, William Fitzosborne, who, though in Normandy
even he sate not at the Duke's table, was, as related to his lord,
invited by Edward to his own. No other guests were admitted to this
board, so that, save Edward, all were Norman. The dishes were of gold and
silver, the cups inlaid with jewels. Before each guest was a knife, with
hilt adorned by precious stones, and a napkin fringed with silver. The
meats were not placed on the table, but served upon small spits, and
between every course a basin of perfumed water was borne round by
high-born pages. No dame graced the festival; for she who should have
presided--she, matchless for beauty without pride, piety without
asceticism, and learning without pedantry--she, the pale rose of England,
loved daughter of Godwin, and loathed wife of Edward, had shared in the
fall of her kindred, and had been sent by the meek King, or his fierce
counsellors, to an abbey in Hampshire, with the taunt "that it was not
meet that the child and sister should enjoy state and pomp, while the
sire and brethren ate the bread of the stranger in banishment and
disgrace."

But, hungry as were the gue