own of Rouen, where he then was,
and where he received him as an honoured guest. Now, some writers tell
us that Edward the Confessor, who was by this time old and had no
children, had made a will, appointing Duke William of Normandy his
successor, and had informed the Duke of his having done so. There is no
doubt that he was anxious about his successor; because he had even
invited over, from abroad, EDWARD THE OUTLAW, a son of Ironside, who had
come to England with his wife and three children, but whom the King had
strangely refused to see when he did come, and who had died in London
suddenly (princes were terribly liable to sudden death in those days),
and had been buried in St. Paul's Cathedral. The King might possibly
have made such a will; or, having always been fond of the Normans, he
might have encouraged Norman William to aspire to the English crown, by
something that he said to him when he was staying at the English court.
But, certainly William did now aspire to it; and knowing that Harold
would be a powerful rival, he called together a great assembly of his
nobles, offered Harold his daughter ADELE in marriage, informed him that
he meant on King Edward's death to claim the English crown as his own
inheritance, and required Harold then and there to swear to aid him.
Harold, being in the Duke's power, took this oath upon the Missal, or
Prayer-book. It is a good example of the superstitions of the monks,
that this Missal, instead of being placed upon a table, was placed upon a
tub; which, when Harold had sworn, was uncovered, and shown to be full of
dead men's bones--bones, as the monks pretended, of saints. This was
supposed to make Harold's oath a great deal more impressive and binding.
As if the great name of the Creator of Heaven and earth could be made
more solemn by a knuckle-bone, or a double-tooth, or a finger-nail, of
Dunstan!

Within a week or two after Harold's return to England, the dreary old
Confessor was found to be dying. After wandering in his mind like a very
weak old man, he died. As he had put himself entirely in the hands of
the monks when he was alive, they praised him lustily when he was dead.
They had gone so far, already, as to persuade him that he could work
miracles; and had brought people afflicted with a bad disorder of the
skin, to him, to be touched and cured. This was called 'touching for the
King's Evil,' which afterwards became a royal custom. You know, however,
Who real