It was asserted that the chosen wife of the king was already the bride of Heaven; that she had been seen to wear the veil of a nun, which shut her out for ever from the world.
In this difficulty it was necessary for Henry to procure the assistance of the clergy, and, wishing to obtain the support of the Church against Robert, he sent messengers to Anselm entreating him to return to England, and resume the see of Canterbury. The king promised to restore the privileges of the Church, and to submit to its authority. Anselm acceded to the request, and agreed to perform the marriage ceremony; but when he heard the reports in circulation that Matilda had taken the veil, he declared that the matter required to be investigated, and that he would himself examine the princess on the subject.
On the question being put to her, Matilda denied that she had ever been dedicated to a religious life, or had worn the veil of her own consent. The reason she gave for having been made to do so at particular times gives a striking picture of the lawlessness and brutality of the Norman soldiery. "I confess," she said, "that I have sometimes appeared veiled, but the cause was this:--In my youth I was under the care of my aunt Christina. She, in order to preserve me from the Normans, by whose licentiousness the honour of all women was threatened, was accustomed to throw a piece of black stuff over my head; and when I refused to wear it, she treated me with great harshness. In her presence, therefore, I wore that veil, but when she was away, I used to throw it on the ground, and trample upon it in childish anger."[24]
Anselm convoked a council of nobles and ecclesiastics, who assembled in the city of Rochester, and to whom the evidence given by Matilda was submitted. Witnesses were examined in support of her assertions, and the assembly decided that the princess was free to dispose of her person in marriage. They cited, as an authority for this decision, the judgment of Archbishop Lanfranc, who, at a time when some English women had taken refuge in a convent from fear of the soldiers of the Conqueror, permitted them to regain their liberty.
At the time of the coronation of Matilda, the city of London could not have presented much to attract the eye. The convents were few, and the churches humble. The tall spire, rising like an aspiration towards heaven; the richly traceried window; the carved portal, did not yet exist to form a picturesque contrast with the rude, low houses built in irregular lines.