One fruitful and instructive source of dispute comes from the way in which the lands in this or that district were commonly granted out.  The in-comer, commonly a foreigner, received all the lands which such and such a man, commonly a dispossessed Englishman, held in that shire or district.  The grantee stepped exactly into the place of the antecessor; he inherited all his rights and all his burthens.  He inherited therewith any disputes as to the extent of the lands of the antecessor or as to the nature of his tenure.  And new disputes arose in the process of transfer.  One common source of dispute was when the former owner, besides lands which were strictly his own, held lands on lease, subject to a reversionary interest on the part of the Crown or the Church.  The lease or sale—­emere is the usual word—­of Church lands for three lives to return to the Church at the end of the third life was very common.  If the antecessor was himself the third life, the grantee, his heir, had no claim to the land; and in any case he could take in only with all its existing liabilities.  But the grantee often took possession of the whole of the land held by the antecessor, as if it were all alike his own.  A crowd of complaints followed from all manner of injured persons and bodies, great and small, French and English, lay and clerical.  The Commissioners seem to have fairly heard all, and to have fairly reported all for the King to judge of.  It is their care to do right to all men which has given us such strange glimpses of the inner life of an age which had none like it before or after.

The general Survey followed by the general homage might seem to mark William’s work in England, his work as an English statesman, as done.  He could hardly have had time to redress the many cases of wrong which the Survey laid before him; but he was able to wring yet another tax out of the nation according to his new and more certain register.  He then, for the last time, crossed to Normandy with his new hoard.  The Chronicler and other writers of the time dwell on the physical portents of these two years, the storms, the fires, the plagues, the sharp hunger, the deaths of famous men on both sides of the sea.  Of the year 1087, the last year of the Conqueror, it needs the full strength of our ancient tongue to set forth the signs and wonders.  The King had left England safe, peaceful, thoroughly bowed down under the yoke, cursing the ruler who taxed her and granted away her lands, yet half blessing him for the “good frith” that he made against the murderer, the robber, and the ravisher.  But the land that he had won was neither to see his end nor to shelter his dust.  One last gleam of success was, after so many reverses, to crown his arms; but it was success which was indeed unworthy of the Conqueror who had entered Exeter and Le Mans in peaceful triumph.  And the death-blow was now to come to him who, after so many years of warfare, stooped at last for the first time to cruel and petty havoc without an object.