towns were such fortresses as Exeter, Leicester, Winchester, Chester, Chichester, Taunton, York, Norwich, and Nottingham. Each, including many that belonged to the Crown, represented an English estate. To many of them military service had long been paid; and now into them the knights and barons from Normandy and the lieutenants and governors for the Crown were inserted. So far, the policy was sound and promised to be successful; but when the new lords began to build castles of stone they became obnoxious to both sovereign and people. The possessor of a strong castle was ever ready for rebellion, and was not uncommonly a tyrant even to his own people, of whom this made him independent: hence, castles properly so called,—buildings in masonry,—were hated by both king and people. The old-fashioned residence, half mansion, half fortress, formed of earth and timber or at best of a rude kind of masonry, such as Scott more by intuition than inquiry attributes to the Saxon Cedric, was strong when held by brave men in sufficient numbers for a short time; but under ordinary circumstances it could easily be attacked, and set on fire. These fortified residences were out of fashion with the Normans, and fell into disuse. The English lords were of the same immediate lineage with their tenants; and if they occasionally squeezed them, they did it as a man squeezes his own milch cow, tenderly. But the castle of stone was held by a stranger whose language, arms, and armour were strange to the people, and by them feared and hated. The Norman castle was a purely military building. It was not only strong when well garrisoned, but its passive strength was also great; and when the bridge was up and the gates closed it was at all times safe against an enemy unprovided with military engines. Fire, the ordinary and ready weapon of the populace, against such a wall, for example, as Cardiff (40 feet high and 11 feet thick), or against such a Tower as London, could do nothing. The garrison also, composed in the English times of the tenants of the lord, under the Normans were not unfrequently mercenaries,—men without ruth or conscience, distrusted even by their employers, whose trade was war and whose gain was plunder, and of whom Maurice de Bracy was a very favourable specimen. “Quot domini castellorum,” it was said “tot tyranni.” No wonder, then, that the Norman castles came to be regarded as the symbol of rebellion on the one hand, and of tyranny on the other.