The castle of Alnwick stands on a hill on the south bank of the river Alne; being protected on one side by the river and on another by a deep gorge, it stands in a strong natural position. There are traces of earthworks that seem to show that the spot was fortified in the old British days, but the earliest fact which we know certainly is that there was a Saxon fortress here, held by a Gilbert Tyson, when William the Conqueror claimed England. Tyson hastened south to fight on Harold’s side, and was killed at the battle of Hastings. The fortress seems to have got into the hands of a Norman knight, Ivo de Vesci, who married the grand-daughter of Gilbert Tyson. King Malcolm of Scotland was killed in front of it, in 1093, with three thousand of his men. De Vesci’s son-in-law was probably the knight who rebuilt the castle in the Norman style, some portions of which still remain. In 1174, William the Lion, King of Scotland, who had claimed Northumberland as his own, attacked the castles of Wark and of Alnwick. Wark was defended by a gallant knight named Roger de Stuteville. William’s brave men tried in vain to force their way through the portcullis, but were beaten back. Then William ordered up his _perière_, a machine made for hurling stones. "This," said the king, "will soon smash down the gate for us!" With great expectations the machine was set in motion, but it acted so badly that it threw the stones on to William’s own men, and nearly killed one of his best knights! William raved in his fury, and swore he would rather have been captured in fair fight than be made to look so foolish in the eyes of his enemies. He gave word to burn the castle, but the wind was in the wrong quarter and blew back the flames. So he had to give up the siege. Stuteville, like a gallant enemy, told his men not to shout taunts and jeers at the departing Scots. But instead they blew trumpets and horns, and sang songs, and called out a very loud and hearty "Good-bye." Shortly afterwards, William came before Alnwick, and it was then De Vesci’s turn. It was Saturday morning on a hot July day, and the Scottish king’s knights flatteringly told him that the English were bound to give way to him, and Northumberland would be his. The king was dining in front of the castle, with no helmet on, when suddenly a part of the English army made a surprise attack. The bold king leapt on to his grey charger, and unhorsed the first knight he met. So quick and brave were the Scots that they had almost defeated the English when an English foot-soldier stabbed the king’s horse with his lance, and it fell, bringing William down to the ground and pinning him there. This turned the course of battle; the Scots were beaten back, and William taken prisoner.