all
matters of importance, and especially in the bestowal of bishoprics and
abbeys, she would submit to the Church; and the Bishop and his
supporters pledged their faith to the Empress on these conditions. After
Easter, a great council was held at Winchester, which the Bishop called
as the Pope's vicegerent. The unscrupulous churchman boldly came
forward, and denounced his brother, inviting the assembly to elect a
sovereign; and, with an amount of arrogance totally unprecedented, thus
asserted the notorious untruth that the right of electing a king of
England principally belonged to the clergy: "The case was yesterday
agitated before a part of the higher clergy of England, to whose right
it principally pertains to elect the sovereign, and also to crown him.
First, then, as is fitting, invoking God's assistance, we elect the
daughter of that peaceful, that glorious, that rich, that good, and in
our times incomparable king, as sovereign of England and Normandy, and
promise her fidelity and support." The Bishop then said to the
applauding assembly: "We have despatched messengers for the Londoners,
who, from the importance of their city in England, are almost nobles, as
it were, to meet us on this business." The next day the Londoners came.
They were sent, they said, by their fraternity to entreat that their
lord, the King, might be liberated from captivity. The legate refused
them, and repeated his oration against his brother. It was a work of
great difficulty to soothe the minds of the Londoners; and St. John's
Day had arrived before they would consent to acknowledge Matilda. Many
parts of the kingdom had then submitted to her government, and she
entered London with great state. Her nature seems to have been rash and
imperious. Her first act was to demand subsidies of the citizens; and
when they said that their wealth was greatly diminished by the troubled
state of the kingdom, she broke forth into insufferable rage. The
vigilant queen of Stephen, who kept possession of Kent, now approached
the city with a numerous force, and by her envoys demanded her husband's
freedom. Of course her demand was made in vain. She then put forth a
front of battle. Instead of being crowned at Westminster, the daughter
of Henry I fled in terror; for "the whole city flew to arms at the
ringing of the bells, which was the signal for war, and all with one
accord rose upon the Countess [of Anjou] and her adherents, as swarms of
wasps issue from t