While the conquerors of Northumberland passed the winter of 1070 at York, and rested from the fatigues they had undergone in their campaign north of the Humber, William occupied his mind with schemes for the reduction of the country around Chester--"the one great city of England that had not yet heard the tramp of the foreigners' horses." When winter passed, and spring began to bring back the grass to the fields and leaves to the trees, the Norman king intimated his intention of setting out on the important expedition. But the effect produced by William's orders, that war-steeds should be saddled, and warriors should mount, to encounter new perils, was such as he could hardly have anticipated. Loud murmurs immediately arose in the army, especially among the auxiliaries from Anjou and Brittany. Exaggerated accounts of the ruggedness of the province of Chester and of the ferocity of the inhabitants circulated through the camp; and the terrible hardships suffered in Northumberland utterly disinclined the soldiers for a campaign on the banks of the Dee. "This service," said they, "is more intolerable than slavery. We demand leave to return to our homes." "Wait awhile," said William, coaxingly: "after victory I promise you repose; and with repose, great estates, as the reward of your exertions." After some difficulty the murmurs of the Normans were silenced; and William, leading his army over the intervening mountains by paths till then deemed impracticable for cavalry, entered the city of Chester as a conqueror. Having erected a strong castle to keep the natives in awe, he gave the command of the province to a Fleming, named Gherbaud, with the title of Earl of Chester. Elate, doubtless, with his good fortune, Gherbaud entered on his duties with vigour. His ardour, however, was speedily damped. It appeared that the accounts of the ferocity of the men of Chester that had reached York were not altogether without foundation. The English and Welsh, hitherto sworn foes, and continually at strife, seemed to vie with each other in their attacks on the invaders. Harassed on every hand, and exposed to continual anxiety and peril, Gherbaud grew tired of Chester, abandoned his earldom, and intensely disgusted with his taste of the conquered country, retired to Flanders. It now appeared necessary to place the earldom of Chester in the hands of a man who, while gifted with the governing faculty, could laugh at danger, and fatigue, and ferocious foes. Accordingly, William, duly weighing the circumstances of the case, conferred the post of danger on that feudal personage who figures in the history of the period as Hugh d'Avranches, and who, from bearing a wolf's head painted on his shield, was familiarly known among his contemporaries as Hugh le Loup.