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Title: The Minority of Henry the Third

Author: Kate Norgate

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Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MINORITY
OF HENRY THE THIRD ***

Transcriber’s Note
Most pages started with a sidenote showing the year. These were printed in bold and
partially underlined. They have been moved to the start of paragraphs, and kept only
when they change. For some long paragraphs, which were printed over several pages, a
range of dates is shown.
Other sidenotes, in italics, either give the actual date of an event, or show a change of
year.
Footnotes have been renumbered and moved to the end of chapters.
All references to footnote numbers (i.e. page and note number) have been changed to
the footnote numbers used here.
Some formatting and punctuation in citations, sidenotes and the index have been
standardized.
Variant spelling, inconsistent hyphenation and inconsistent spelling of people’s names are
retained, however a few palpable printing errors have been corrected. Opening brackets
within brackets have been left unclosed. Other changes are listed at the end of the book.
Throughout this book the abbreviation ib. is used to refer to the same work as the
previous reference, and l.c. or loc. cit. is used when the reference is to the same place in
the referenced work (or ll.cc. where the reference is to more than one page). Each has
been linked to the citation to which it refers.

By the same Author

JOHN LACKLAND
8vo. 8s. 6d. net.

London: MACMILLAN &
CO., Ltd.

THE MINORITY OF HENRY THE THIRD

MACMILLAN AND CO., Limited
LONDON . BOMBAY . CALCUTTA
MELBOURNE

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
NEW YORK . BOSTON . CHICAGO
DALLAS . SAN FRANCISCO

THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd.
TORONTO

THE MINORITY
OF

HENRY THE THIRD

BY

KATE NORGATE

MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
ST. MARTIN’S STREET, LONDON
1912

COPYRIGHT

Richard Clay and Sons, Limited,
BRUNSWICK STREET, STAMFORD STREET, S.E.,
AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.

I was set to work at the history of Henry III’s early years by a letter from
Thomas Andrew Archer which only reached me after his death. To his
memory I dedicate this book.
4 January, 1912.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I
PAGE
THE WAR WITH LOUIS, 1216–1217 1

CHAPTER II
THE REGENCY OF WILLIAM THE MARSHAL, 1217–1219 61

CHAPTER III
THE LEGATION OF PANDULF, 1219–1221 108

CHAPTER IV
TUTORS AND GOVERNORS, 1221–1223 173

CHAPTER V
THE YOUNG KING, 1223–1227 208

NOTES
I — The Truces of 1216–1217 269
II — The Blocked Gate at Lincoln 273
III — Falkes de Bréauté at Lincoln 275
IV — The End of the Battle of Lincoln 276
V — The Treaty of Kingston 278
VI — The Tenure of Crown Offices during the Minority 280
VII — The Papal Letters of 1223 286

VIII — The Royal Castles in 1223–1224 290
IX — Falkes and the “thirty pairs of letters” 292
X — Bedford Castle 293
XI — The Hanging of the Bedford Garrison 296

Index 301

Filius non portabit iniquitatem patris.

THE MINORITY OF HENRY III

CHAPTER I
THE WAR WITH LOUIS
1216–1217

Iniit ergo omnis multitudo pactum in domo Dei cum rege, dixitque ad eos Joiada: Ecce, filius regis
regnabit.

On the 19th of October, 1216, King John lay dead in 1216
Newark castle. Nearly half of his realm, including the
capital, was in the hands of a foreign invader who was supported by a
numerous and powerful section of the English baronage as well as by the
citizens of London; and the sole surviving male representatives of the royal
house of England were two boys, the elder of whom was but nine years old.
The King had been cut off suddenly, at a moment when not one of his
English counsellors was at his side; and the small body of troops which he
had brought with him from the west consisted almost entirely of foreign
mercenaries. It might well have been expected that these men would, as
soon as the “landless king” was dead, transfer their services to his rival. But
John had possessed that mysterious gift which seems to have been common
to the whole Angevin house, the gift of inspiring a personal attachment out
of all proportion to the merits of its object. These men, seemingly without
any leader to direct their action, took upon themselves and faithfully and
successfully fulfilled the duty of carrying into effect John’s last wishes, so
far as lay in their power, by conveying his corpse across England from
Newark to Worcester, and calling on the loyal barons to meet them there for

the double purpose of burying the dead King and concerting offensive and
defensive measures to secure the rights of his heir.[1]
John’s last act had been to commend his eldest son to the care of the Earl
of Pembroke, William the Marshal. “Sirs”—thus he is said to have
addressed the few friends who stood around his death-bed—“I must die.
For God’s sake, pray the Marshal to forgive me the wrongs that I have done
him. He has always served me loyally, and never requited me an ill turn for
any evil that I have done to him or said to him. Sirs, for God’s sake Who
made the world, pray him that he will forgive me; and because I trust in his
loyalty more than in that of any other man, I beg you that he may have my
son in his charge, and always keep him and guard him; for the child will
never be able to hold his land through any one, unless it be through the
Marshal.”[2] When the Marshal, who was at Gloucester, “heard say that the
King his lord was dead, he was grieved thereat.” He set out at once to meet
the funeral train at Worcester; Gualo the Legate, who no doubt also was
somewhere in the west of England, did the like; and a goodly company of
clerks and knights were present with them at the burial. As soon as it was
over, “the great men”—that is, probably, the Legate and the Marshal—
hurried back to Gloucester, and sent out a summons to all those barons who
held with the King to join them there without delay. The appeal met with a
quick response; a council was held, and all present unanimously agreed that
they should send for little Henry “and do with him what God should teach
them to be reasonable and right.” The child had been placed for safety in
the castle of Devizes; Sir Thomas de Sandford was despatched to fetch him
thence, and the Marshal went as far as Malmesbury to meet him.[3]
The heir of England was gifted with more than the ordinary attractiveness
inherent in youth and innocence; he had a beautiful face, with golden hair,
and he was already noted for a gravity and dignity of speech beyond his
years.[4] A faithful retainer, Ralf of Saint-Samson,[5] was “carrying him in
his arms”—that is, probably, holding him on the horse’s neck before him—
when, in the plain outside Malmesbury, William the Marshal met the little
company coming from Devizes. The Marshal saluted the future King; “and
the well-trained child said to him, ‘Welcome, Sir! Truly, I commit myself to
God and to you, that for God’s sake you may take care of me; and may the
true God Who takes care of all good things grant that you may so manage
our business that your wardship of me may be prosperous.’ ‘Fair Sir,’

answered the Marshal, ‘I tell you loyally, as I trust my soul to God, I will be
in good fealty to you, and never forget you, so long as I have power to do
anything.’” The boy burst into tears, and the bystanders and the Marshal did
the like “for pity.”[6]
Most of the barons of the King’s party were now at Gloucester, and
anxious that the coronation should take place without delay. One, however,
who ranked next to the Marshal in importance—Ranulf, Earl of Chester—
had not yet arrived, and it was not without some hesitation that the others
ventured to take so important a step in his absence. The urgency of the case
however overcame their scruples and their fears of Ranulf’s displeasure;[7]
and on the eve of S. Simon and S. Jude—ten days after 27 Oct.
John’s death—a council over which the Legate presided
made the final arrangements for crowning the King the next morning.[8] At
the last moment a question arose: who was to knight the boy? “Who should
do it,” one of the assembly answered, “save he who, if we were a thousand
here, would still be the highest and worthiest and bravest of all—he who
has already knighted one young king[9]—William the Marshal? God has
given him such grace as none of us can attain. Let him gird the sword on
this child; so shall he have worthily knighted two kings.” It was done; and
next morning the “pretty little knight, clad in his little 28 Oct.
[10]
royal robes,” was led in solemn procession to the
abbey church. Standing before the high altar, he recited, under the dictation
of the Bishop of Bath,[11] the old traditional coronation oath: that he would,
all the days of his life, maintain the honour, peace, and reverence due to
God, His Church, and His ordained ministers; that he would render right
and justice to the people committed to him; that he would abolish bad laws
and evil customs, if any such were in the realm, and would observe good
laws and customs and cause them to be observed by all men. He then did
homage to the Holy Roman Church and the Pope for the realms of England
and Ireland, and swore that so long as he held them, he would faithfully pay
the thousand marks promised by his father to the Roman see. This homage
must have been done to Gualo as the Pope’s representative. It was followed
by the crowning and anointing which made Henry king. This most solemn
rite was carried out with as much of the customary ceremonial as
circumstances permitted.[12] The Archbishop of Canterbury, who according
to immemorial precedent should have performed it, was beyond the sea.

Gualo alone had, as Legate, a right to take the Primate’s place on such an
occasion; but it seems that he tactfully declined to do so, and commissioned
a member of the English episcopate to act in his stead, while he himself
undertook the more ordinary duty of singing the Mass. The very crown was
a makeshift, “a sort of chaplet”[13]—probably an ornament for a woman’s
hair, belonging to the Queen-mother. Under the sanction of the legatine
authority Bishop Peter of Winchester, assisted by the Bishops of Worcester
and Exeter, anointed the child and placed this improvised crown on his
head.[14]
When the service was over Philip d’Aubigné caught up the tired child in
his arms, carried him back to his apartments, and caused him to be relieved
of his heavy robes before proceeding to the hall where the coronation
banquet was spread.[15] The company at the high table must have been a
small one; besides the Legate, the Queen-mother,[16] and six bishops,[17]
there seem to have been present at the coronation only six persons of
sufficiently high rank to be mentioned by name in the chronicles of the
time; the Earls of Pembroke and Ferrers, Philip d’Aubigné, John Marshal,
[18]
William Brewer, and Savaric de Mauléon.[19] There was however a
considerable gathering of abbots and priors, and “a very great crowd” of
lesser folk.[20] In the midst of the banquet a messenger made his way into
the hall and delivered to the Earl Marshal aloud, in the hearing of all, an
urgent appeal for succour from the constable of Goodrich castle, besieged
on the preceding afternoon by some partisans of Louis. Goodrich was only
twelve miles distant, and the incident was naturally felt to be a bad omen.
[21]
Guided by a common instinct, all the little company around the King
turned, as John had turned many a time, to William the Marshal as their one
hope, and before they separated for the night they went to him with the
same request which had already been made to him by John and by little
Henry himself: “You have made our young lord a knight; he owes his crown
to you; we all of us together pray you to take him into your keeping.” “I
cannot,” answered William, “I am old; the task is too heavy for me. Leave
the matter till the Earl of Chester comes.” With this answer he dismissed
them for the night.[22]
Next morning Ranulf of Chester arrived, just as they 29 Oct.
were all about to do homage, as was usual on the morrow

of a coronation, to the new King. Ranulf did his homage like the rest, and
expressed his approval of all that had been done in his absence. A meeting
was then held “in the King’s hall,” for the purpose of choosing “a valiant
man to guard King and kingdom.” The Bishop of Winchester—no doubt
according to arrangement made on the preceding night after the Marshal
had withdrawn—called on Alan Basset to speak first. “By my faith!” spoke
Alan, “fair sir, though I look up hill and down dale, I see no one fitted for
this, save the Marshal or the Earl of Chester.” Again the Marshal protested
that the matter was too hard for him: “I am too feeble and broken, I have
passed fourscore years. Take it upon you, Sir Earl of Chester, for God’s
sake! for it is your due; and I will be your aid so long as I have strength in
life, and will be under your command loyally to the uttermost of my power;
never shall you command me aught, by word or by writing, that I will not
do as well as I may by God’s helping grace.” “Out upon it!” cried Chester,
“Marshal, this cannot be. You, who in every way are one of the best knights
in the world—valiant, experienced, wise, and as much loved as you are
feared—you must take it; and I will serve you and do your behests, without
contradiction, in every way that I can.” Hereupon Gualo called the Earl, the
Marshal, the Bishop of Winchester, and one or two others into an inner
room, where the matter was discussed among them privately. No
conclusion, however, was reached, till at last the Legate “besought the
Marshal for God’s sake, and required of him that he should undertake the
charge for the remission and pardon of his sins, that he might be fully
absolved of them before God at the Day of Judgement.” “In God’s Name!”
said the Marshal, “if I am saved from my sins, this charge befits me well; I
will take it, however burdensome it may be.” “Then,” adds his biographer,
“the Legate gave it to him, as was right; and the good Marshal received the
King and the guardianship both together.”[23]
The Marshal’s forethought went beyond that of the others. Having
accepted the charge of the regency, he at once made a suggestion which
shewed that he intended to do the work of that office thoroughly. “My lords,
you see the King is young and tender; I should not like to lead him about
the country with me. So please you, I would seek out, by your counsel, a
wise man who should keep him somewhere at ease. This is necessary; I will
not drag him about with me. I shall not be able to stay in one place, but
must travel about and look to the safety of the Marches. Wherefore, I would
have some master provided and chosen for him in your presence, to whom I

can intrust him with security.” “Let the choice be yours, Sir,” said the
Legate, “for we have no fear but you will choose rightly.” “Then,”
answered William, “since you leave the whole matter to me, I will give him
in charge to a very good master, the Bishop of Winchester, who has already
had the charge of him and has brought him up carefully and well.” To this
all agreed,[24] and it seems to have been in this way that “by common
consent, the care of King and kingdom was committed to the Legate, the
Bishop of Winchester, and William Marshal, Earl of Pembroke.”[25]
There was no fear of these arrangements being unacceptable to the rest of
the King’s party. Throughout all England there was but one opinion of
William the Marshal; and when “the folk outside” heard that he had
undertaken the governorship of the King and the realm, “they rejoiced
greatly.” But within the castle, when darkness fell, the old Earl once more
called around him “his sure council”—three faithful friends; his nephew
John Marshal, his squire John of Earley, and Ralph Musard[26]—with whom
he had already had an anxious consultation on the preceding night, after the
first informal offer of the regency.[27] Now, setting his back against a wall,
he began: “Give me your counsel! for, by my faith, I have embarked on a
wide sea where, cast about as one may, neither bottom nor shore can be
found, and it is a marvel if a man come safely into port. But may it please
God to bear me up! They have given me this charge, which is like to
miscarry,[28] as you may see and know; and the child has no possessions,
worse luck! and I am an aged man.” He paused, choked by tears; “and they,
who loved him with all their hearts, wept too for pity.” Recovering himself,
he asked them: “Have you nothing to say to me?” “Yes,” answered John of
Earley. “You have undertaken a business from which there is no drawing
back. But so long as you hold to it, I tell you that the worst that may come
can only bring you honour. Suppose that all your adherents should join
Louis, and surrender all the castles to him, so that you could find no shelter
anywhere in England;—that you had to quit the country, and that Louis
pursued you till you fled to Ireland;—still that would be great honour! And
if a losing game could thus turn to your praise, how much greater will be
your joy when you get the better of the adversary, as, please God, you may!
Then all men will say that never man of any race won such honour upon
earth. Is it not worth the winning?” “By God’s sword!” swore the aged hero,
“your counsel is true and good, and goes so straight to my heart that if all

the world should forsake the King, save myself, know you what I would
do? I would carry him on my shoulders from one land to another, and never
fail him, though I had to beg my bread.” His friends applauded his
resolution, and he, having now cast aside all misgivings, closed the
conference with characteristic simplicity. “Now let us go to bed; and may
God Who rules over all things give us His counsel and aid, as He surely
does aid those who wish to do right and cleave unto loyalty.”[29]
He took up his new duties without further hesitation. Under his direction
letters were immediately despatched to all the sheriffs and wardens of
castles throughout England, bidding them render obedience to the new
King;[30] and Gualo called upon the prelates and the loyal barons to meet
the King and his guardians in a council at Bristol on November 11. When
the council met, it comprised the whole strength of the 11 Nov.
loyal party. Only eleven bishops indeed were present; but
the statement made in a royal letter that “all the prelates”[31] of England
were there was practically true nevertheless; for the two metropolitans were
both out of the country, the Bishops of London, Lincoln, and Salisbury were
ill, and the sees of Durham, Norwich, and Hereford were vacant. The
laymen who attended were the Earls of Pembroke, Chester, Derby (or
Ferrers), and Aumale, the Justiciar Hubert de Burgh, Savaric de Mauléon,
the two William Brewers (father and son), Robert de Courtenay, Falkes de
Bréauté, Reginald de Valtort, Walter de Lacy, Hugh and Robert de
Mortimer, John of Monmouth, Walter de Beauchamp, Walter and Roger de
Clifford, William Cantelupe, Matthew FitzHerbert, John Marshal, Alan
Basset, Philip d’Aubigné, and John L’Estrange, besides others whose names
are not recorded; and there were also some “other prelates,”—that is, abbots
and priors—and knights.[32] Gualo, who as representing the overlord of
King and kingdom necessarily acted as president of the council, began by
causing every man present to swear fealty to the King; he then laid an
interdict upon the whole of Wales “because it held with the barons,” and
repeated his excommunication of the rebels and their allies, with Louis of
France at their head.[33]
Next day there was issued a provisional Charter, 12 Nov.
purporting to be granted by the boy-King “under the
guidance of God, and for the salvation of our soul and of the souls of all our
ancestors and successors, to the honour of God, and the exaltation of Holy

Church, and the amendment of our realm, by the counsel of our venerable
fathers” Gualo and the other prelates and magnates enumerated. Of course
it began with the declaration which had already been, and was to be again,
so often made, and so often proved but an empty form: “The English
Church shall be free, and have her rights and liberties entire and
undisturbed;” but the recital in the first article of the Great Charter of John’s
grant, made to the Church before his quarrel with the barons, of one special
liberty—that of free election—was omitted.[34] The clauses of John’s
Charter regulating the reliefs due from tenants-in-chief,[35] the wardship of
heirs under age,[36] the marriage of heirs and widows,[37] were reproduced
with a few very slight alterations, of which the most significant was an
addition to the clause relating to the custody of estates: that the obligations
laid down as binding on the guardian of a lay fief were to be binding
likewise on the custodian of a vacant ecclesiastical dignity, and that a
wardship of this kind was not to be bought or sold.[38] The article protecting
the King’s debtors and their sureties against arbitrary distraint;[39] that
which protected free tenants against arbitrary requirement of service other
than what was legally due from their lands;[40] that which ordered common
pleas to be held in a fixed place instead of following the King;[41] the
regulations for taking recognitions of novel disseisin, mort d’ancester, and
darrein presentment;[42] the clause protecting men of all classes against the
infliction of arbitrary fines for offences;[43] the clauses which forbade the
exaction of contributions for bridge-building from persons or places not
legally bound thereto,[44] and the holding of pleas of the Crown by sheriffs
or other royal bailiffs,[45] the regulations concerning ward-penny and castle-
guard;[46] the royal promises to seize no timber for building without the
owner’s consent,[47] not to withhold the lands of a convicted felon from his
lord beyond a year and a day,[48] to abolish all weirs except on the sea-
coast,[49] to issue no more writs of praecipe in cases where a freeman might
thereby be deprived of the means of obtaining justice,[50] to grant writs of
inquisition concerning life or limb freely without payment,[51] to cease from
unjust interference with other men’s rights of wardship in the case of heirs
holding land of a mesne lord by military service and other land of the
Crown by some other tenure;[52] the clause ordaining equal weights and
measures to be used throughout the realm;[53] that which forbade any man

to be sent to the ordeal on the sole accusation of an officer of the Crown;[54]
the King’s undertaking not to punish or prosecute any man in any way
except by the lawful judgement of his peers and according to the law of the
land,[55] and neither to sell, deny, or delay, right and justice to any,[56] not to
exact unfair reliefs from escheated baronies,[57] not to summon men to the
Forest Courts from districts outside the Forest jurisdiction and on pleas
unconnected with it;[58] the clause securing the custody of vacant abbeys to
those who were entitled to it as founders,[59] and that which forbade arrest
or imprisonment for manslaughter on the appeal of any woman other than
the wife of the slain man[60]—were all renewed, as were also the promises
given by John that the Forests made in his reign should be disafforested and
the river enclosures made during the same period destroyed.[61] Henry
pledged himself, as John had done, to give immediate redress to any
Welshmen whom John had dispossessed of their lands without lawful
judgement of their peers.[62] The article concerning the ancient liberties and
customs of London and other towns was renewed, with the insertion of a
special mention of the Cinque Ports.[63] That which forbade the King’s
constables to seize any man’s corn or cattle without immediate payment,
except by the owner’s leave, was modified; if the owner belonged to the
township in which the castle stood, payment might be deferred for three
weeks.[64] Another article of the Great Charter had forbidden all sheriffs and
other officers of the Crown to use any freeman’s horses or carts without the
owner’s consent; they were now permitted to do so on payment of a sum
“anciently fixed”—tenpence a day for a cart with two horses, fourteenpence
a day for a cart with three horses.[65] The general rule laid down in 1215
that “all merchants should come and go and dwell and trade in England, in
time of peace, without the imposition of arbitrary customs” (“maltotes”),
was limited by the insertion of a proviso, “unless they have been publicly
forbidden.”[66] Nineteen articles were entirely omitted. There was no
renewal of the articles forbidding the exaction of interest, during the
minority of a debtor’s heir, on money borrowed from the Jews or others;
nor of the royal promises to institute an inquiry into the abuses of the Forest
law and of the Crown’s rights over escheated baronies, to remove from all
offices in England certain of John’s foreign adherents, to make restitution to
persons illegally disseised under John, to remit fines made illegally with
him, to reinstate Welshmen illegally disseised under Henry II. and Richard,

and to appoint no justiciars, constables, sheriffs, or bailiffs, save those who
knew the law of the realm and were minded to observe it well.[67] The
articles declaring that the ferms of the shires, wapentakes, and hundreds
should be reduced to their old figures, without increment (except on royal
manors); sanctioning the distribution of the chattels of an intestate freeman
by his next-of-kin under the direction of the Church, after his debts were
paid; and giving leave to all men to go in and out of England freely, except
in time of war,[68] were also omitted. Above all, there was no renewal of
two provisions of the highest importance: that no scutage or aid should be
imposed except by the common consent of the realm, unless it were for the
King’s ransom, the knighting of his eldest son, or the marriage of his eldest
daughter, and of “reasonable” amount, and that for the assessment of an aid
or scutage on occasions other than those named, the common council
should be summoned in a certain manner and for a fixed day, and the matter
should proceed according to the counsel of those who answered the
summons.[69] As a natural consequence of this omission, the article
providing that no mesne lord should henceforth receive permission to take
an aid from his freemen except of reasonable amount and for the before-
named purposes[70] was omitted likewise. The weighty sixtieth article of the
Great Charter, however—“All these aforesaid customs and liberties which
we have granted in our realm, so far as in us lies, to be kept towards our
own men, all the people of our realm, both clerks and laymen shall observe,
so far as in them lies, towards their men,”—was retained.[71] The provisions
for the return of hostages and charters, and for a settlement of terms with
King Alexander of Scotland,[72] were of course omitted, being no longer
applicable under the altered political circumstances. The grounds on which
the other omissions and modifications were made are thus set forth in the
clause with which the Charter concludes, and which replaces the sixty-first
clause of the Great Charter (the clause containing the arrangement about the
twenty-five “over-kings”): “Forasmuch as in the former charter there were
certain chapters which seemed weighty and doubtful, to wit, concerning the
assessment of scutages and aids, the debts of Jews and others, the liberty to
go in and out of our realm, the forests and foresters, warrens and warreners,
and the customs of the shires, and the river-enclosures and their keepers: it
has pleased the prelates and magnates that these should be deferred till we
shall have taken counsel more fully; and then we will do to the full,

concerning these and other matters which may require amendment,
whatever things may appertain to the common good of all and the peace and
stability of our self and our realm.”[73]
The seals with which, in place of the non-existent royal seal, this Charter
was confirmed in the King’s name were those of Gualo the Cardinal Legate
and William the Marshal, Earl of Pembroke, “governor of ourself and our
realm.” The form of the document must have been determined by Gualo
and William conjointly; and it reflects the utmost credit upon the wisdom,
tact, and moderation of both. Their explanation, given in the clause just
quoted, as to the omissions in the new Charter was reasonable and true. The
matters omitted were such as a provisional government, especially under
the existing circumstances, could not safely deal with. They were all, more
or less, matters of controversy; they were also matters affecting the relations
of the Crown not with the nation as a whole, but with certain members or
sections of the nation; matters, in a word, as to which it would have been
neither politic nor just to tie the hands of a King who was not yet capable of
acting for himself—above all at a moment when any surrender of the
powers and claims of the Crown might have deprived him and his
counsellors of the already sufficiently small means which they possessed of
carrying on the war against the invader. Most “grave and doubtful” of all
was the question which had furnished the immediate pretext, though it was
certainly not the sole incentive, for the rising of the barons against John: the
question of scutage. If the limitations imposed by the twelfth and fourteenth
articles of the Great Charter upon the King’s rights of scutage were not
actually new, they had been obsolete so long as to be practically an
innovation on the established custom of the realm. This fact was the coign
of vantage on which John had taken his stand when appealing to the Pope
against the barons; and it was on this ground that Innocent had condemned
the Charter. The accession of a child-King was not the moment for
gratuitously surrendering on his part a claim whose illegality was, to say the
least, not proven, and which the Pope, as overlord of the kingdom, had
upheld; and the postponement of this question enabled Gualo at once to
give the papal sanction to the new Charter. The publication of the Charter,
with that sanction, left no valid excuse for the continuance of a refusal to
recognize the native sovereign. Henry was now as definitely pledged as
Louis to the redress of all grievances which were really national, and the

security for the fulfilment of the pledge was at least as strong on Henry’s
side as on the side of the stranger.
But the stranger was in the land, with a force of armed followers of his
own, sufficient, if not indeed for its conquest, at least to keep the footing
which he had gained there; and the men who had called him to their aid
were bound to his cause by engagements from which they could not easily
extricate themselves, even if they wished to do so. When they heard of
Henry’s coronation they were furious, and many of them took a solemn oath
that they would never hold land of any of John’s heirs. Gualo retorted by
interdicting their lands; and his arguments, pleadings, and threatenings had
a considerable effect not only on the clergy to whom they were primarily
addressed,[74] but also on the lay folk of the King’s party, whose loyalty was
greatly encouraged by hearing their enemies excommunicated every
Sunday and holiday. This, together with a general feeling that “the sins of
the father should not be visited on the son,” inclined John’s old adherents to
serve the new King even more zealously than they had served the late one;
and they set to work vigorously at the fortification of their castles in his
behalf.[75]
At the moment of John’s death Louis was still, with the greater part of his
forces, encamped, as he had been for three months, before Dover castle, and
was awaiting the results of a truce which had been made between him and
its warden—Hubert de Burgh—in the early part of October, to enable
Hubert to communicate with John and obtain from him either succour, or
leave to surrender. When fully certified of John’s death, Louis invited
Hubert to a parley and addressed him thus: “Your lord, King John, is dead;
it is useless for you to hold this castle longer against me, seeing you have
no succour; surrender the castle and come into my fealty, and I will enrich
you with great honours and you shall be great among my counsellors.” “If
my lord be dead,” Hubert is reported to have answered, “he has sons and
daughters who ought to succeed him; as to surrendering the castle, I would
fain speak with my comrades of the garrison.” These all agreed that he
should refuse, “lest by shamefully surrendering the place he should incur
the mark of treason.”[76] On this Louis consented to another truce with
Hubert till after Easter,[77] and withdrew to London.[78] The Dover garrison
immediately sallied forth and foraged around till they had stocked the castle
with all necessaries, after burning all the buildings which Louis had set up

round about it;[79] while Hubert was by this somewhat unexpected release
enabled to join the council at Bristol.
The French party now held, besides London, the chief strongholds of
Surrey and Hampshire—Reigate, Guildford, Odiham, Farnham, Winchester,
Southampton, Porchester; Marlborough, just within the Wiltshire border,
seems to have been their extreme western outpost. In the Midlands and the
North they held Mountsorel and most of the castles of Yorkshire. Between
these northern fortresses and London, however, lay a tract of hostile
country. The Thames Valley was blocked by Windsor and Oxford; two of
John’s foreign followers, Engelard d’Athée (or de Cigogné) and Andrew de
Chanceaux, were in command of Windsor; while the castles of Oxford,
Buckingham, Hertford, Bedford, Cambridge, and Northampton, and the
whole of the six shires in which they stood, were under the charge of the
most devoted and energetic, as well as the most ruthless, of John’s soldiers
from over sea, Falkes de Bréauté. Beyond these lay Nottingham, Newark,
Sleaford, and Lincoln, whose castles were all in the possession of the
royalists.[80] To the east, though the Earls of Essex and Norfolk were among
the partisans of Louis, the castles of Pleshy, Colchester, Norwich, and
Orford were garrisoned by the troops of the King.[81] In the far north
Newcastle-on-Tyne was held for Henry by Hugh de Baliol,[82] and the
fortresses of the see of Durham by the constables of the Palatine bishop.
The western shires were entirely in the hands of the Royalists. On the
Dorset coast Peter de Maulay, to whom John on the eve of his last campaign
had entrusted his second boy, Richard, was in command of Corfe, a fortress
which on account of its remote position and great strength had been chosen
for the depository of the greater part of the royal treasure.[83] The French
had apparently no hold upon the coast anywhere except at Southampton and
Porchester, and at Rye, where the castle was held for Louis by Geoffrey de
Say.[84] Some of the Cinque Ports had indeed submitted to Louis in 1215,
but they had almost immediately thrown off his yoke, resumed their
allegiance to John, and joined hands with a motley band of adventurers and
country folk who under the leadership of William de Casinghem occupied
the Weald of Kent and were a perpetual danger to the French troops
engaged in the siege of Dover.

That siege Louis seems to have now finally decided to abandon, probably
with the intention of devoting himself instead to the consolidation of his
conquests by the acquisition of eastern England. On 11th November—the
meeting-day of the Council at Bristol—he appeared before Hertford and
laid siege to the castle. For twenty-five days he plied his machines against it
in vain, its commandant, Walter de Godardville, a knight of Falkes’s
household, making a brave defence and a great slaughter of the assailants,
till the siege was ended on 6th December[85] by a general truce made
between the Royalist leaders and Louis on the condition that Hertford and
Berkhamsted should be evacuated and surrendered to the French prince.[86]
The constable of Berkhamsted, however—a German knight named
Waleran, who had long been in John’s service—was unwilling to accept the
truce, and held out against siege and assault till an order in the King’s name
compelled him to surrender on 20th December.[87] When the truce expired,
another was made, the condition being the evacuation and surrender of the
royal castles of Orford and Norwich;[88] and this second truce seems to have
been followed by a third, purchased probably by the surrender of
Cambridge and either Colchester or Pleshy. At some date between the
middle and the end of January, 1217, Louis called his 1217
adherents to a council at Cambridge, while the King’s
guardians brought up their young sovereign from Gloucestershire to
Oxford,[89] and opened negotiations for a peace, or, failing that, a further
prolongation of the truce. Of peace Louis’s English supporters would not
hear; and as the arrangements for another truce made but slow progress,
Louis laid siege to the castle of Hedingham. Finally, however, a truce was
made, its conditions being apparently the surrender of Hedingham and
Colchester (or, if Colchester had been surrendered earlier, Pleshy), and
perhaps some minor strongholds, and the continuance of “all things”—
castles and other matters—as they were at that moment until a month after
Easter.[90]
Thus by the beginning of February, 1217, Louis’s 1217
mastery of eastern England was completed, seemingly
without a struggle. At first glance, the action of Henry’s representatives
seems unaccountable; there is, however, reason to think that it was really
part of a scheme for bringing the desultory war to a crisis. Their aim seems
to have been first to induce Louis to scatter his forces, and then to lure him

back to the coast, hoping that there they might either cut off his retreat, or
compel him to return to his own country.[91] For the accomplishment of this
design it would be necessary to concentrate their own forces; and this could
only be done by withdrawing the garrisons from such of the royal castles as
were least worth retaining at the moment. These were the castles of East
Anglia and Essex. Unlike the fortresses of the west, which it was of
paramount importance to maintain in a state of efficiency as a protection
against encroachments of the King’s enemies from the Welsh border, these
eastern castles were practically isolated outposts in a district of which the
greater part was under the enemy’s control. Surrounded as they were by the
territories of powerful barons who supported Louis, they were not available
as bases for concerted action; and the stores, arms, horses, and men in them
could be made far more useful elsewhere.[92] To the enemy, on the other
hand, the bait would be a tempting one; and the possible consequences of
taking it might well have escaped the penetration of a more wary general
than was Louis of France at this stage of his career. The possession of these
castles placed the whole of eastern England under his uninterrupted sway,
and removed all serious obstacles, except one, to his communications with
his allies in the north. That one obstacle was the castle of Lincoln, which
under the command of a woman had hitherto resisted every assailant. Louis
appears to have made a circuit of his new possessions—no doubt placing a
garrison in each of them—and then proceeded to Lincoln, hoping that his
personal presence and the isolation in which she was now placed might
tempt or frighten Dame Nicolaa into a betrayal of her trust. In this hope he
was disappointed. The city received him, as it had already received his
adherents; but the castle “held out,” for the Dame “kept it very loyally.”
Louis could only return to London and thence send the castellan of Arras to
take up his quarters in Lincoln city, that he might “hold the country with the
help of the Northerners.”[93]
Louis was now anxious to get back to France. According to one account,
his father was again urgently calling him home;[94] according to another, he
was alarmed by letters from his agents at Rome, telling him that unless he
left England the Pope intended to confirm on Maundy Thursday the
excommunication which had been pronounced on him by Gualo.[95] When
he announced to his English friends in London his intention of leaving the
country they were highly displeased, and he had to take a solemn oath that

he would return before the expiration of the truce.[96] None of the
successive truces made during this winter seem to have been very
scrupulously kept by either party. On the morrow of the surrender of
Berkhamsted Louis had marched upon S. Alban’s and 1216 21 Dec.
demanded homage of the abbot, and on its refusal had
only been restrained from burning both abbey and town by the intervention
of Saer de Quincy, whereby the abbot was persuaded to give him eighty
marks for a respite till Candlemas.[97] A month later, at 1217 22 Jan.
the very time when the King’s Council were
endeavouring to arrange a conference of commissioners from both sides for
the redress of infractions of the first and second truces and for securing the
observance of the truce then existing,[98] Falkes de Bréauté sacked the same
unlucky town and wrung from the abbot another heavy fine.[99] Louis’s visit
to Lincoln was not an overt act of hostility such as these, but it was
distinctly a violation of the spirit of the conditions on which the last truce
had been made; and the Royalists may perhaps have considered themselves
thereby released from their own obligation to abide by those conditions.
However this may be, Louis, seemingly on the point of setting out from
London for the coast, received information that the castle of Rye had been
“taken by subtlety” by the English.[100]
As early as 17th December, 1216, “the brave men of Ireland who are with
their ships on the coasts of Normandy” had been bidden, and encouraged by
the promise of liberal reward, to come in force to Winchelsea, ready and
prepared to go forth in the King’s service on S. Hilary’s day, or as soon after
as possible.[101] They seem to have obeyed the summons, and to have been
joined by an English fleet, gathered no doubt from the loyal Cinque Ports,
and commanded by the governor of the Channel Islands, Philip d’Aubigné.
[102]
A detachment of Royalists, protected by, if not Jan.
actually landed from, these ships, had “by the wise
counsel of the Marshal” now surprised and occupied Rye.[103] Louis at once
set out for the coast; he went, however, not direct to Rye, but to Winchelsea
—still, it seems, intending to sail for France. At his approach the burghers
of Winchelsea broke up all the mills in their town, and then took to their
boats and went to join Philip d’Aubigné and his fleet off Rye. Louis had no
sooner entered Winchelsea than he found himself caught in a trap whence
there was no way of escape—shut in between the new garrison of Rye, the

ships, and the Weald, where “Willikin” de Casinghem was still in command
of a dauntless and reckless band of loyalists who broke down every bridge
and blocked every passage in the rear of the French, and cut off the head of
every straggler who came within their reach.[104]
Louis and his men were soon on the verge of starvation; there was plenty
of corn in the town, but no means of grinding it save the slow process of
rubbing it between their hands; they could get neither flesh nor fish; their
“best food” consisted of some “large nuts” which they found in the town.
For a while they struggled on, making occasional truces with the ships’
men, probably for the purpose of being able to fish without molestation and
thus procure a little food; but the sailors paid little or no regard to these
truces, and even came ashore to shoot at the enemies.[105] At last Louis sent
some messengers who contrived to slip through the Weald to London for
succour. Some of his knights there set out to rescue their lord; but they
dared not attempt to pass through the Weald, so they went by the high road
through Canterbury to Romney, and thence—as it was impossible for them
to proceed from Romney to Winchelsea without passing Rye—despatched a
message to the governor of the county of Boulogne asking him to send them
all the ships he could get. He sent, it is said, over two hundred vessels—
probably only small boats—all of which save one came into port at Dover,
and were speedily occupied by the French knights who hastened thither
from Romney; but a succession of storms kept them waiting a fortnight
before they could sail. Meanwhile Louis and his men had possessed
themselves of several large ships which were lying in the harbour of
Winchelsea; and one of the vessels sent from Boulogne had, “by the
hardihood of the mariners,” contrived to evade the English fleet and reach
the same place, “where it was very welcome.” In all likelihood the captain
of the ship which achieved this exploit was a man who for many years past
had been known on both sides of the Channel as the most daring of seamen
and the most ruthless of pirates, Eustace “the Monk”; for it was Eustace
who now proposed to build, on one of the large ships, a “castle” wherewith
to attack the English. This “castle” was “so big that everyone stared at it
with wonder, for it overpassed the sides of the ship in every direction.” A
stone-caster was next set up on another ship, to hurl stones at the English
fleet; Louis had already set up on the shore for the same purpose two
similar machines, whose missiles went almost across the channel which

separates Winchelsea from Rye; and these did the English ships
considerable damage. But one evening the English brought up some of their
vessels close to the town, stole away the galley which bore the “castle,” and
hewed it in pieces before the very eyes of the French. Louis laid the blame
of this mishap on the Viscount of Melun, who apparently was responsible
for the watch that night; Melun bluntly declared the men were so hungry
that not four knights could be found to undertake the watch; Louis retorted
that he would take it himself. Then Eustace de Neville interposed, saying he
would find forty knights to watch with him as long as Louis pleased. That
night he did it, with forty of his friends, “very honourably”; and next
morning the relieving squadron from Dover came in sight. The English
ships threatened to intercept it; but the first English vessel which came to
close quarters by some accident struck one of its own consorts and sank it
with all its crew, and amid the confusion resulting from this catastrophe the
French ships made their way safely into the harbour of Winchelsea.[106]
With these ships Louis, whose force is said to have now consisted of
more than three thousand men, proceeded to Rye, which the English
garrison, seeing they could not defend it, evacuated.[107] By this time the
Marshal[108] and the other members of the Council were on their way up
from the west of England to a general muster of the Royalist forces at
Dorking. Thence, on 28th February, a letter was despatched in the King’s
name to the townsfolk of Rye, bidding them take courage, give no hostages
to Louis, and make no terms with him, for they would speedily receive
“greater succour than they could believe possible.” The Bishop of
Winchester, the Marshal, the Earls of Chester, Ferrers, and Aumale, nearly
all the barons of the western March (Walter de Lacy, Hugh and Roger de
Mortimer, Walter and Roger de Clifford, William de Beauchamp, John of
Monmouth, “and others”), and several other well-known leaders (William
de Harcourt, Engelard de Cigogné, William de Cantelupe, Falkes de
Bréauté, Robert de Vipont, Richard FitzRoy), with a multitude of knights,
men-at-arms, and crossbowmen, and some loyal Welshmen, were setting
out for Rye at once, and the King himself was about to follow with the
Legate and a crowd of clergy and “crusaders.”[109] But before this letter was
written Louis had made his escape. After appointing his nephew
Enguerrand de Coucy as his representative in England, with orders to go to
London “and not stir thence upon any account,” and leaving a French

garrison in Rye,[110] he had slipped away to Dover, and thence sailed on
27th or 28th February to France.[111]
The Legate meanwhile had turned the war into a crusade. He had set the
example, which the prelates followed, of assuming in token of the
sacredness of the young King’s cause the white cross which marked the
English warriors in Holy Land; all loyal subjects were exhorted to do the
like; and those who had already taken the cross with the intention of joining
the host now on its way to Egypt were encouraged to exchange their
intended pilgrimage for the struggle with the excommunicate enemies at
home.[112] Nobles and common folk alike responded to this appeal,
“preferring to have a king from their own land rather than a foreign
one.”[113] All through the winter the tide had been turning surely though
slowly. As early as the end of November, 1216, William of Aubigny, the
lord of Belvoir, who in the preceding year had defended Rochester castle
for the rebel party with a stubborn bravery worthy of a better cause, and on
its capture had been sent by John to prison at Corfe, bought his release by a
fine of six thousand marks and homage to the new King; he was at once
intrusted with the castle of Sleaford, “and he kept it right valiantly.”[114]
Two recruits of yet greater importance joined the Royalist forces a few days
after Louis left England: the younger William Marshal—eldest son of the
regent—and the king’s uncle, William Longsword, Earl of Salisbury. These
two, “who loved each other like brothers,”[115] seem to have been already
contemplating a return to their natural allegiance in the second week of
December, 1216;[116] but their scruples or their fears kept them in the
hostile camp for three months longer. Then, in the first days of March, the
elder Marshal “met them by the way” somewhere between Shoreham and
Knepp.[117] The meeting was evidently pre-arranged.[118] All three spent the
night together at Knepp; and when the two younger men parted from the
elder one next morning, it was to lead their followers to Winchester and
besiege it for the King.[119] The old Marshal followed them with another
body of troops, and laid siege to Farnham in the first week of March.[120]
By 12th March it was taken;[121] and so, too, about the same time, was the
city of Winchester and “the lesser castle” there—that is, the Bishop’s castle,
known as Wolvesey.[122] The “tower,” or royal castle,[123] however, held out
against the united forces of the two friends and the regent, who on leaving

Farnham came to their assistance. At last it was decided that he should
continue the siege,[124] while his son and Longsword led their forces to
Southampton or Odiham,[125] and another party under Philip d’Aubigné was
sent to besiege Porchester.[126] On the last day of March the younger
Marshal laid siege to Marlborough; and “after great difficulty” he took it.
[127]
Southampton and Odiham had now been regained;[128] Chichester was
won before 16th April, and Porchester before 27th April.[129] Meanwhile
Falkes de Bréauté had made a raid on the Isle of Ely and recovered
possession of it for the King.[130] The royal forces were swelling fast;
“converts”—as the rebels who returned to allegiance are called in the
official records—came crowding in;[131] and after Easter the Marshal, while
still blockading the “tower” of Winchester, felt himself strong enough to
despatch the Earls of Chester, Aumale, and Ferrers, with Robert de Vipont,
Brian de Lisle, William de Cantelupe, and Falkes, and a number of knights
and men-at-arms drawn from the garrisons of the evacuated royal castles, to
form the siege of the rebel Earl of Winchester’s great fortress of Mountsorel
in Leicestershire.[132]
Tidings of these things reached Louis in France; “and when he heard
them,” says a contemporary, “he was not at all glad.” About Easter time he
had betaken himself to Calais, but with only a very small following; if he
had gone to France with the hope of gathering forces there, he must have
been disappointed. He had, however, procured a new machine called a
trebuchet, “about which there was much talk, for at that time few of them
had been seen in France.” With this machine, and a handful of knights—
only one hundred and forty—he at last set sail[133] for England once more
on Saturday, 22nd April.[134] As the French ships drew near to Dover on the
morning of S. George’s day, their occupants saw the huts Sunday, 23 April
which had been built to shelter the besiegers of the castle
still standing, empty but intact. At that very moment, however, King John’s
son Oliver and Willikin of the Weald came down upon the huts and set them
on fire, after slaughtering some of the few men who had been left to guard
them. To attempt a landing at Dover in the face of an enemy whose
numbers and position it was impossible to distinguish amid the smoke thus
raised, and who could so easily pour down a murderous fire of arrows and
other missiles from the cliffs, would have been to court destruction. Louis

therefore altered his course and made for Sandwich. There he succeeded in
landing,[135] though not without opposition from some of the local ships.
[136]
Next day he rode to Dover and took up his quarters in the priory. There
he heard dismal reports of the losses suffered by his adherents in other parts
of England; so he hurriedly arranged with the constable of the castle for a
further prolongation of the local truce,[137] and returned to Sandwich.
Having now been joined by the Count of Nevers with a few followers, he
dismissed the inferior portion of his own forces to the ships, which he sent
back to France,[138] but, as the sequel showed, with instructions to return.
[139]
Then, after firing the town of Sandwich in vengeance for the hostility
of its mariners,[140] he moved on to Canterbury; next day (Tuesday, 25th
April) he set out for Winchester. At Malling he was met by Saer de Quincy,
Simon de Langton, and some others of his English partisans. On the
morrow (Wednesday, 26th) he “made a long day’s march, for he went from
Malling to Guildford”; his baggage could not get beyond Reigate. On this
day he was joined by Enguerrand de Coucy and the greater part of the
garrison which he had left in London. Next day (Thursday, 27th) he reached
Farnham, but only to find it prepared for defence against him, and to learn
that Winchester castle was lost to him,[141] its castellans having surrendered
it before they knew of his return to England.[142]
No sooner did the Marshal hear that Louis was back than he gave orders
for the immediate razing of all the castles which had been retaken, except
Farnham.[143] It was Farnham that Louis now turned to attack. The outer
bailey was speedily captured by assault; but the keep, as a foreign
chronicler quaintly says, “heeded it not.”[144] Next day (Friday, 28th April)
Earl Saer of Winchester came to Louis asking for help to relieve
Mountsorel.[145] Its garrison of ten knights and some men at arms under
Henry de Braybroke had held out manfully for nearly a month, but had now
found it needful to ask their lord, Saer, for succour.[146] After some
consultation Louis, “being unable to get rid of him otherwise,”[147] sent him
to London with orders that some of the leaders there should supply him
with troops and accompany him to Mountsorel for the twofold purpose of
relieving that fortress and “subduing the whole province” to Louis himself.
Under the joint command of Saer, the count of Perche, Robert Fitz Walter,
and some other barons, a large body of knights and men-at-arms, some

English, some French, and “all coveting their neighbour’s goods,” as an
indignant chronicler says, set out accordingly from London on Monday, 1st
May.[148]
From S. Alban’s, where they halted for the night, the French mercenaries
went about plundering churches, desecrating cemeteries, and putting “all
sorts of people” to torture and ransom; at the abbey they got nothing but
food and drink, Louis having apparently given it to be understood that he
was “satisfied” with the larger sum which he had recently extorted from the
abbot, and that they must exact nothing more. A marvellous experience
which befell some of the sacrilegious spoilers at Redburn[149] probably
sobered them somewhat, for they passed through Dunstable “without doing
much harm.”[150] When, a few days later, they reached Mountsorel, they
found that, so far as that castle was concerned, their work was done. The
leaders of the besieging force had had timely warning from their scouts, and
had withdrawn to Nottingham.[151]
Louis meanwhile had on Saturday, 29th April, marched from Farnham to
Winchester, his rearguard chased by a party of Royalists from Windsor,
who, however, failed to overtake it. The Marshal, after demolishing the
castle as much as haste permitted, had evacuated the city, and the few
Royalists left in it fled at the approach of the French. Louis stayed there five
days, to put in train the restoration of the castle. On 4th May—Ascension
Day—he left the completion of this work and the custody of the city to the
Count of Nevers, and set out once more for London.[152] There he heard that
the garrison of Dover had broken their truce, and chased and slain some of
his men who had arrived at Dover after he left it. He stayed in London two
nights and then went on to Dover, and on the Friday before Whit-Sunday,
12th May, set up his trebuchet before the castle, while his men built
themselves huts all around in preparation for a renewal of the siege. Next
day (Whitsun Eve) forty of his ships reappeared, seeking to enter the
harbour; but a contrary wind drove them back to Calais, all except five,
which made their way in together. On Monday, 15th, the other thirty-five
came again from Calais. At the same time there hove in sight some eighty
or more ships “great and small,” among them twenty “great ships armed
and prepared for battle,” coming from Romney under Philip d’Aubigné and
Nicolas Haringot. The small French transports, not daring to risk a meeting
with these big vessels, fled towards Calais; twenty-seven of them however

had advanced so far that they could not withdraw in time to avoid an
encounter; eight of these were captured, the sailors and men-at-arms whom
they carried were slain at once, and the knights imprisoned in the holds of
the ships, “where they were uncomfortable enough.” The victorious English
ships then anchored before the castle, thus effectually cutting off its
besiegers from all chance of reinforcement by sea. Louis vented his rage by
sending some of his men by land to burn Hythe and Romney; the
“Wealdsmen” attacked them, but seemingly without success.[153]
While Louis was in London, the host which had gone to relieve
Mountsorel moved eastward to Lincoln, at the urgent request of Hugh of
Arras, who went in person to beg that they would all join him and his
“Northern” friends at the siege of Lincoln Castle. He was, he said, almost
on the point of taking it, and its capture would be a great advantage to the
cause of Louis. After some debate the leaders consented, and the whole
force marched to Lincoln and quartered itself in and around the city.[154]
Tidings of this movement reached the Marshal on the Friday before Whit-
Sunday—the day on which Louis set up his trebuchet at 12 May
Dover—when the council and the loyal barons were
gathered round the King at Northampton for the approaching festival.[155]
Hereupon, says his biographer, “God, Who supports, maintains, and
counsels all loyal men, put into their hearts a marvellous counsel, of which
came much good and much honour to them. List, then, the sum of the
counsel with which God inspired the man chosen and renowned and trusted
above them all. ‘Hearken,’ spoke William the Marshal, ‘loyal knights and
all ye who are in fealty to the king! For God’s sake hearken to me, for what
I have to say deserves a hearing. This day we bear the burden of arms to
defend our fame, and for ourselves and our dear ones, our wives and
children, and to keep our land in safety, and to win great honour, and for the
peace of Holy Church, which these men have wronged and ill-used, and to
gain remission and pardon of all our sins. Take heed then that there be no
backsliders amongst us.’”[156] After this solemn exordium he put the
situation clearly before his audience. Part of the enemies were sieging
Lincoln Castle, but only a part; Louis was elsewhere, and “those who
accompanied him had got themselves foolishly into a tangle.”[157] Here,
then, was an opportunity not to be lightly thrown away. “For God’s sake, let
us stake everything upon it! Remember that if we gain the victory, we shall

increase our honour, and preserve for ourselves and our posterity the
freedom which these men seek to take from us. We will keep it. God wills
us to defend it! Therefore every man must bestir himself to the utmost of his
power, for the thing cannot be done else. There must be no gaps in our
armed ranks; our advance upon the foe must be no mere threat; but we must
fall upon them swiftly. God of His mercy has granted us the hour for
vengeance upon those who are come hither to do us ill; let no man draw
back!” The whole assembly “took heart and hope, strength and hardihood”
from his words, and became eager to go forward at all costs.[158] So, with
the unanimous consent of Gualo and the other members of the royal
council, the Marshal called upon all loyal castellans and knights to muster
at Newark on Whit-Monday, 15th May.[159] They came gladly, to the
number of four hundred knights, near two hundred and fifty cross-bowmen,
and so many sergeants and horsemen as might well make up for the small
number of knights.[160] The leaders of the host were the two William
Marshals, Bishop Peter of Winchester (who was “learned in the art of
war”), the Earls of Chester, Ferrers, and Aumale, William d’Aubigny, John
Marshal, William de Cantelupe with his son of the same name, Falkes de
Bréauté, Thomas Basset, Robert de Vipont, Brian de Lisle, Geoffrey de
Lucy, Philip d’Aubigné, “and others.”[161]
Next day arose a new peril, which recalls one of the incidents that
preceded another battle at Lincoln, seventy-six years before. “The Normans
who were in the host” went to the younger William Marshal and addressed
him thus: “Fair sir, you were born in Normandy; you ought to know that it
is the right of the Normans to strike the first blow in every battle. Take heed
that we lose not our right.” Earl Ranulf of Chester, however—like his father
in 1141—claimed the same privilege for himself, and bluntly declared that
unless he were placed in the van, he would not go with the host, and they
should have no help from him. The Earl Marshal and the other leaders were
obliged to pacify him by granting his demand, on the understanding that the
right of the Normans should not be thereby prejudiced for the future.[162]
Three days were spent at Newark, as a breathing-time for Tues., 16 May
men and horses and an opportunity for religious exercises
to prepare the men for their task. On the third morning, Fri., 19 May
after Mass, the Legate and clergy again excommunicated
Louis by name, with all his accomplices and abettors, especially those who

were sieging Lincoln castle, “together with the city of Lincoln and all its
contents.” The Legate then gave plenary absolution to all who, having made
a truthful confession, were about to take part in the expedition.[163] This
done, the whole host flew to horse and arms.[164]
The Legate set out for Nottingham,[165] taking with him the young King.
For the fighting men, the direct route would have been the Foss Way, which
ran in an almost straight line from Newark to Lincoln. But it ran to the
southernmost gate of the city, below the hill; and their aim was to reach the
western side of the castle on the hill-top without passing through the city,
which was in the hands of the enemy. They therefore fetched a compass to
the northward as far as Torksey;[166] and there, or at Stow[167] hard by, they
spent the night. On Saturday morning (May 20th), after Mass, they drew up
in full array for their final march upon Lincoln.[168] Once more the Marshal
bade them fight, “for honour or Paradise,” against the enemies of God and
the Church. “God has given them into our hands; up and at them! The hour
is come!” “And all who heard him bore themselves joyfully, as if they were
going to a tournament.”[169] Chester led the van; the Marshal and his sons
commanded the next division; Earl William of Salisbury the third, and
Bishop Peter of Winchester the fourth, which consisted of cross-bowmen.
[170]
Another body of cross-bowmen—perhaps commanded by Falkes—
seems to have formed an advanced guard which marched a mile in front of
the rest of the host.[171]
The boundaries of medieval Lincoln were determined by those of the
Roman city on the site of which it was built. They formed, roughly
speaking, a parallelogram whose length from north to south was
considerably greater than its width, and whose northern half stood on the
summit of a steep and rocky hill whence the southern half sloped down
almost to the bank of the river Witham; the whole was divided
longitudinally by the Roman road known as Ermine Street. The city “above
hill” represented the original Roman camp; to this the part “below hill” had
been added in the later days of the Roman occupation. The wall wherewith,
in the thirteenth century and for many centuries after, the whole was
encompassed, followed in the main the outlines of the Roman enclosure
thus enlarged. The castle, founded by William the Conqueror and partly
reconstructed in the twelfth century, occupied the south-western angle of

the first Roman city: it was thus enclosed on the north, east, and south
within the later city, from which it was separated by a wide and deep ditch.
This ditch was continued along its outer or western side; and on this side
the walls of castle and city formed one continuous line, the wall being
carried across the ditch at the north-western and south-western extremities
of the castle enclosure. Immediately north of the ditch at the former of these
two points of junction between the city wall and the castle wall, stood the
West Gate of the city; whether there was also a gate at the southern junction
point is not known. The castle had two main entrances; one on the east,
towards the city; the other on the west side, towards the open country. The
keep was on the south side. Beyond the western wall and ditch the plateau
formed by the hill-top extended some little distance; and it was here that
King Stephen had entrenched himself when he besieged the castle in 1141,
leaving the bishop and citizens to watch the other three sides. The partisans
of Louis seem not to have been sufficiently sure of the citizens to venture
on following Stephen’s example; for they had evidently made no attempt to
occupy the site of his encampment, but had set up all their machines and
concentrated all their forces within the city, directing all their attacks upon
the castle from thence, and taking no steps to prevent its garrison from
communicating through the western sally-port with their friends outside.
The main road from Torksey and Stow to Lincoln now enters the city
south of the castle; but there is a branch road connecting it at Burton with
an old Roman way which runs from Kirton-in-Lindsey and enters Lincoln
by the West Gate; and this appears to have been the way taken by the
Royalists. At some distance from the gate they halted, and the Marshal sent
forward his nephew John to open communications with the garrison.[172]
On his way John met Dame Nicolaa’s lieutenant constable, Geoffrey de
Serland, whom she had despatched from the castle secretly to tell the
leaders of the relieving host how matters stood within, and that a “little
door,” or “postern at the back”—that is, the small door of the western sally-
port, by which no doubt Geoffrey himself had gone out—was already open
to receive them.[173] With this welcome message John Marshal hastened
back; he was seen and chased by some Frenchmen, but escaped unharmed.
[174]
Two of the English barons who were in the city, Robert Fitz-Walter and
Saer de Quincy the Earl of Winchester, rode out to reconnoitre as soon as
the Royalists’ approach was known. On their return they said: “These

warriors come on in good order, but we are far more in number than they;
let us go out to meet them at the ascent of the hill, and then we can catch
them all like larks in a cage.” The Count of Perche, however, who was in
command of the French troops, was too cautious to act upon a report so
vague and went out himself with another of the French leaders, to count the
enemies, as he said, “according to the custom of France.” He was, however,
deceived in his reckoning; for each of the Royalist chieftains had two
banners, one of which led his contingent in the fighting host while the other
was with his baggage, so that the baggage, forming a separate group in the
rear, looked like another army and was mistaken for such by the two
Frenchmen, who went back doubting what was best to do. They finally
decided to shut the city gates and thus, as they hoped, hold the city till they
should have won the castle[175]; thinking that the English, with men and
horses wearied from a long march, would not attempt to penetrate within
the walls. When this movement came to the knowledge of the Marshal, he
made it an argument for instant attack. “See, they retire behind their walls!
The victory is ours already, when these men, ever foremost in tourney, hide
themselves at our approach. Let us do the right, for God wills it!”[176]
It was easy to introduce troops into the castle by the western sally-port;
but it would not be so easy to pass the whole relieving force through the
castle into the city. Bishop Peter of Winchester, who according to the
Marshal’s biographer “was the master in counselling our people that
day,”[177] seems to have resolved on trying to ascertain for himself where a
direct entrance into the city could be effected. He led his men up to the
castle wall, bade them await him there, and with a single attendant entered
the fortress. He found it greatly damaged by the long siege, and in such
constant peril from the French mangonels and stone-casters, still actively at
work, that its occupants begged him to withdraw from the great court into
the shelter of the keep. Thence, after complimenting and encouraging the
“good dame,”[178] he stole out, evidently by the small south door,[179] on a
yet more hazardous reconnoitring expedition into the city, “wishing to see
how it stood.”[180] Looking about him, he caught sight of a gate “which
joined the walls of the city with those of the castle,” and which was
“blocked with stone and cement.” This was apparently the West Gate of the
city.[181] The reason for which it had been blocked, whether this was done
by the French or (as is more probable) under orders from Nicolaa[182] at an

earlier period of the war, is not difficult to guess. Lincoln had more gates
than could easily be guarded all at once;[183] if one of them was rendered
impassable, there was one less to watch and defend. The sequel implies that
the “stone and cement” were not so put together as to form a wall of solid
masonry; probably the door on the inner side of the gateway had been
closed and the obstruction piled up, rather than built up, on the outer side; if
so, it might be cleared away without its removal being noticed inside the
city until the door was forced open.[184] In all likelihood Peter’s discovery
of this possible entrance had really been made as he passed the outer side of
the gate on his way to the castle, and the purpose of his daring venture was
to learn whether its inner side was penetrable and unguarded. He found that
it was so, and having made his way back safely to his friends, gave orders
for the gate to be cleared out. His comrades of the host came to meet him
joyously, “every man in the ranks singing as if the victory were already
won”; Peter merrily told them that when they had gained possession of the
city he should claim the bishop’s house for his own residence, as a reward
for having prepared them a safe way of entry.[185]
Possibly, however, the lay leaders may have been unwilling to stake the
safety of their enterprise solely on the judgement of their episcopal
counsellor; for it seems that while Falkes de Bréauté, with his own
followers and all the cross-bowmen, was sent into the castle, the main body
of the host went round to the north gate—the Roman “Porta Nova,” “New
Port,” now reduced to a single great arch with a smaller one at its side, but
in the Marshal’s day probably still almost complete in the pristine strength
of its solid Roman masonry, forming an arched passage flanked by two
smaller passages, some twenty feet long,[186] and closed with heavy doors
which the Royalists set to work to batter in.[187] The French party were
plying their engines vigorously on the castle when suddenly they saw its
walls and towers bristling with cross-bowmen; and “as in the twinkling of
an eye” a shower of quarrels, aimed with deadly effect at the destriers of the
besiegers, reduced many knights and barons of high rank among them to the
condition of foot soldiers. The sight of their discomfiture tempted Falkes to
make a dash from the eastern gate of the castle into their midst, with some
of his personal followers; he was, however, quickly surrounded and
captured, but was gallantly rescued by his men.[188] Bishop Peter
meanwhile was protesting to the Marshal against the folly—as he deemed it

—of trying to force an entrance elsewhere than at the “safe” place where, as
he said, there was an opening in the wall ready for use, yet hidden from and
unguarded by the enemy. “By my head! those men are wrong; they have not
found the right way to get in. I will lead you to it; come with me.” “By
God’s sword! hither, my helmet!” was the Marshal’s reply.[189] Peter
however now held him back and proposed that before risking a general
assault two men from each “battle” or division of the host should be sent to
look around for ambushes.[190] This was done; but the Marshal was too
impatient to await the result. He at once “put himself forward on his way,”
calling his own men to the onset: “Forward! Now shall ye see your enemies
vanquished in a few hours; shame to him who longer delays!” Again Peter
tried to check him, begging him to wait till the whole host could be reunited
and the attack made in full force. The aged warrior would not listen;
“swifter than a merlin he struck spurs into his horse, so that all who were
with him gathered hardihood as they beheld him.” A “valet” called after him
that he was, after all, going without his helmet; “Stop here while I fetch it,”
said the Marshal to his son. In a moment he was back again, “and when he
had thus covered his head, he was goodly to look upon beyond all the rest—
light in movement as a bird, hawk or eaglet.” “Hungry lion never rushed on
its prey so hotly as the Marshal on his foes”; at the first onset he dashed
three spears’ length into their midst, cutting his way through them and
scattering them on all sides, while Bishop Peter followed shouting “God
help the Marshal!”[191]
By this time the stubborn attack on the north gate had succeeded, and all
the Royalist forces thus poured in at once upon the besiegers of the castle,
[192]
who, although numerically stronger, were unable to withstand their
onset,[193] aided as it was by the murderous fire which Falkes’s cross-
bowmen, from their vantage-ground on the castle wall, poured down upon
the horses of the French knights, the animals falling “like stuck pigs” while
the riders were captured without possibility of rescue.[194] The French force
is said to have consisted of six hundred and eleven knights and full a
thousand footmen; it is not quite clear whether this reckoning includes their
English allies.[195] Yet, small as were the numbers engaged on both sides,
the fight lasted from between seven and eight o’clock in the morning till
nearly three in the afternoon.[196] It was protracted partly by the stubborn
persistence of the two parties, who both alike felt that the destiny of

England was involved in its result, and partly by the impossibility, in the
steep and narrow streets of a city such as Lincoln, of bringing it to a
decisive issue in one general encounter. It thus became a battle of the old-
world epic type, full of separate incidents and individual encounters; and
this peculiar character, together with the extraordinarily small amount of
actual bloodshed and loss of life that took place in it, probably suggested
the name afterwards given to by the victors—“the Tournament,” or as the
word is commonly but in this case perhaps less accurately rendered, “Fair
of Lincoln.”[197]
The first recorded incident was one of good omen for the Royalists.
Some of them found the enemy’s chief engineer[198] working a stone-caster
which hurled stones against one of the towers of the castle. Mistaking the
new-comers for knights of his own party, he, all the more eagerly, placed a
stone in his machine, but as he was giving the signal for its discharge they
came up behind him and struck off his head.[199] The Marshal and the Earl
of Salisbury “turned to the right, leaving a minster on their left,”[200] and
came upon a cluster of enemies, one of whom, Robert of Ropsley, levelled
his spear “to joust,” and struck that of Longsword with such force that it
shivered into fragments; but the Marshal gave him such a blow between the
shoulders that he fell to the ground “and crawled away to hide himself.”
The fight swept onward almost to the brow of the hill on which the city was
set, till on a level space near the great minster,[201] the French made a
resolute stand under the direction of the Count of Perche.[202] He was only a
youth, of scarce two and twenty years,[203] “handsome, tall, and noble-
looking.”[204] He stood at bay as bravely as King Stephen had stood in
somewhat like circumstances in the earlier battle of Lincoln; and for a while
he and his men succeeded in checking the progress of the Royalists. By
degrees, however, the French lost ground and began to fall back down the
hill. Perche, with a few of his personal followers, alone kept his post, and
was at last surrounded by almost the whole force of the English. They
called upon him to surrender, but he refused with an oath, saying he would
never yield to one of a race “who had been traitors to their king.”[205]
Reginald Croc, a knight of Falkes’s household,[206] then levelled a spear at
him and struck him in the eye. The Marshal, coming up at that moment,
seized the bridle of the count’s horse, “and it seemed right, as the count was

the chief man on the French side.” Perche dropped the bridle, took his
sword in both hands, and struck with it on the Marshal’s helmet three blows
in quick succession, “so mighty that they dinted it visibly,” and then
suddenly fell from his horse. The Marshal thought he had fainted, “and
feared that he himself should be blamed therefor.” “Dismount and take off
his helmet,” said one of Perche’s men, William of Montigny, “for it hurts
him; but I doubt he will stand up no more.” Croc’s spear had in fact pierced
through the eye to the brain, and when the helmet was removed the friends
and foes who crowded round saw that the gallant youth was dead.[207]
Perche’s comrades at once rushed down the hill[208] and rejoined the bulk
of the French troops, to whom his heroism and the concentration of the
English around his person had given a breathing-space of which they had
made good use. They and their English allies had rallied in the lower town,
and now came, in close array, up the hill, hoping to regain possession of its
summit. Meanwhile the young Marshal had rejoined his father. “Are you
hurt?” asked the Earl. “No, Sir.” “Forward then! This day we will conquer,
or chase them from the field.” Attacked on their right flank by Chester and
his “good folk” before they reached the hill-top, confronted when they did
reach it by the Marshals, and shut in between the minster and the castle, the
French, after another stubborn fight, were again driven down the slope; and
this time they were chased right out of the city and through its southern
gate, or Stone-Bow,[209] to Wigford Bridge.[210] There they made a last
gallant stand, fighting with such desperate fury that “if God had spoken by
thunder, He would not have been heard.” Their pursuers were no less daring
and impetuous: William Bloet, the young Marshal’s standard-bearer,
charged into the crowd on the bridge with such vehemence that he and his
horse went sheer over into the river, only, however, to struggle out again
with equal quickness and gallantry. Gradually the cry of “King’s men!
King’s men!”[211] rose higher above the din. Saer de Quincy and his son
Robert were taken; so was Robert FitzWalter; so were several other rebel
barons;[212] at last the rest turned and fled across the suburb of Wigford by
“the street which goes straight to the hospital”[213]—in other words, the
whole length of the present High Street—till they reached the outer or
furthermost gate of Lincoln.[214] This gate, known as the Great or Western
Bar-Gate, protected the bridge by which the main road from Lincoln to the
south crossed the great drain called the Sincil Dyke. Here the fugitives were

checked by a double obstacle. The bar of the gate was so constructed that
the gate closed of itself after every individual who passed in or out. Just as
the foremost of them reached it, a cow tried to enter, and, the gate falling
upon her, stuck fast, so that egress was altogether impossible till the animal
was slain; and even then, as there was apparently no means of fixing the
gate open, each man as he came up had to dismount and open it for himself.
[215]
The unhappy fugitives might, it seems, have been captured or even
slain almost to a man, had their pursuers so willed it; but many of them
were English, and the ties of blood restrained their kinsmen in the royalist
host from carrying the pursuit to extremity.[216] Notwithstanding this
forbearance, however, a large number of prisoners were captured.[217]
Among these were nearly all the English barons who had sided with Louis;
[218]
no less than seven were taken by John Marshal, and several by Bishop
Peter and his men;[219] forty-six in all are named by contemporary
historians;[220] and the prisoners of knightly rank numbered three hundred,
[221]
besides many others of lesser degree. Those who escaped “stopped
neither by night nor by day, in town or house, for they thought that on every
hill-side and in every dale the bushes were all full of Marshals.”[222] Only
three of the “great men” among the French—Simon of Poissy, Hugh the
castellan of Arras, and Eustace de Merlinghem the constable of Boulogne—
reached London with some two hundred knights. The foot-soldiers were
nearly all slain by the country folk who came out “with swords and staves”
to intercept their flight.[223] In the actual battle only five men had been
slain; on one side the Count of Perche, two of his knights,[224] and a man-at-
arms whom no one recognized; on the other, Perche’s slayer, Reginald
Croc.[225]
Unhappily, the English sullied their victory by sacking Lincoln. Not
content with seizing the baggage and valuable goods of the French nobles
and the rebel barons, which they found piled up in waggons in some of the
streets, they “despoiled the whole city, even to the uttermost farthing”; and
on the strength of Gualo’s exhortation to treat the canons of the cathedral
chapter as excommunicate (owing to their having been throughout the war
in opposition to the King), they plundered every church, breaking open
chests and presses and carrying off plate, jewels, vestments, and money; the
precentor of the cathedral lost eleven thousand marks. Many women fled

from the city with their children and household goods, and sought to escape
in boats, but through their overcrowding and ignorance of rowing all the
little vessels capsized, the occupants were drowned, and the goods became
the prize of anyone who fished them up from the bottom of the river.[226]
All these things were done after the Marshal had left the city. As soon as the
fight was over he and the other leaders held a council to consider what they
should do next. Some were for marching on London, some for trying to
dislodge Louis from Dover. As they could not agree, the Marshal with his
usual practical good sense bade them all go home and place their respective
prisoners in safety, and meet him again, with the Legate, on a day which he
named, at Chertsey,[227] or, according to another account, at Oxford.[228] He
then, without stopping even to eat, hurried with his tidings of victory to the
King and the Legate at Nottingham. Thither, next morning, came news of
another gain to the royal cause; the garrison of Trinity Sunday, 21
Mountsorel, whose constable, Henry de Braybroke, had May
gone with Saer de Quincy to Lincoln, had fled and left
the castle deserted.[229] The Earl of Salisbury appears to have been sent to
secure it for the King; two days later an order was issued 23 May
to him from Lincoln, in the King’s name, to deliver it to
Earl Ranulf of Chester,[230] who forthwith razed it to the ground.[231]
On Thursday, 25th May,[232] the news of the Fair of Lincoln reached
Louis in his camp before Dover. He took counsel with his friends; and they
all agreed that he must raise the siege, concentrate in London, and send to
France for reinforcements. Unwillingly he caused his trebuchet to be taken
down, and prepared to withdraw, but determined to stay over Sunday 28th,
“to see whether he would get any news.” On the Sunday “it was very clear
at sea, and looking towards Calais they saw many ships with their sails set,
whereof they rejoiced greatly.” Next day the ships “came 29 May
sailing over the sea right merrily, to the number of full six
score.” The English, when they saw them, hoisted their sails and put to sea;
the French set off in chase, but finding they could not catch them put about
again and made straight for Dover. The English then put about likewise,
overtook the hindermost ships of the French fleet, and captured eight of
them; the rest got safe into the harbour, and were met by Louis on the
beach. To his great disappointment and rage, however, he found that, except
one large vessel in which were eighteen knights, they brought nothing but

sailors, merchants, and men-at-arms. Next day he sent 30 May
them all back again, with two messengers charged with
letters to his father. Then he set fire to “all the ships which were ashore
before the haven,” and betook himself to Canterbury and thence to London,
where he arrived on Thursday, 1st June.[233]
The Royalists meanwhile had advanced by way of Windsor and Staines
to Chertsey;[234] thence they made secret overtures to some of the leading
citizens of London for the surrender of the city. Tempted on the one hand by
the promise of a confirmation of its liberties “under the King’s seal,” and
terrified on the other hand by the fate of Lincoln, London was clearly
beginning to waver; and Louis, on discovering these secret negotiations,
could only secure himself in the city by closing all its gates save one and
insisting upon a renewal of homage from the citizens to himself.[235] At the
beginning of June the Archbishop of Tyre, who had come to Europe to
preach a crusade, arrived in England from France, accompanied by the
abbots of Citeaux, Clairvaux, and Pontigny, and endeavoured to reconcile
the contending parties.[236] Several parleys were held,[237] and a draft treaty
was actually prepared[238] and seems to have been discussed between four
of Louis’s counsellors and four of Henry’s, who met, accompanied by
twenty knights of each party, between Brentford and Hounslow,[239] on 13th
June. But the meeting proved useless because Louis insisted upon including
in the peace four clerks whose conduct had been, alike in an ecclesiastical
and a political point of view, so outrageous that the Legate absolutely
refused to admit them to any terms without previously consulting the Pope.
[240]
The unsuccessful mediators returned to France at the end of the month.
[241]

Meanwhile Falkes de Bréauté had taken Lynn.[242] On 23rd June the
sheriffs were ordered to publish the Charter in their shires and see that it
was put in execution.[243] The King and his council then withdrew to
Gloucester;[244] and it was probably during their temporary absence from
the neighbourhood of London that Louis sent the Viscount of Melun and
Eustace de Neville on a plundering raid into East Anglia, whence they
returned laden with the spoils of the famous abbey of S. Edmund.[245]

This raid was evidently a desperate expedient for obtaining supplies.
Cooped up in London, Louis and his men were in need of everything; and
Philip Augustus shewed no inclination to send them help of any kind.[246]
Months before, if we may believe the Marshal’s biographer, the French
King, when he heard that John was dead, his son crowned, and the Marshal
in charge of the realm, had declared that further effort was useless. “We
shall take nothing in England now; that brave man’s good sense will defend
the land—Louis has lost it. Mark my words! When the Marshal takes the
matter in hand, we are undone.”[247] As Philip had from the outset refused
to countenance his son’s enterprise openly, so now he connived at, rather
than assisted, the efforts of his daughter-in-law, Blanche of Castille, to
collect money and troops for Louis.[248] Blanche scoured the country in her
husband’s behalf, pleading his cause so energetically that a contemporary
says, “if those whom she enlisted had all gone to England in arms, they
might have conquered the whole kingdom.”[249] The force which her efforts
finally brought together at Calais numbered, however, only about a hundred
—or at the utmost three hundred—knights.[250] Several times, while they
lay encamped on the shore, some English ships sailed up to the harbour and
discharged arrows at them; and once, at least, a great fight took place, in
which the English were signally worsted. Another night the French actually
crossed the Channel and anchored off Dover, intending to sail thence round
to the mouth of the Thames; but in the morning, as they were about to set
forth, a storm overtook them and drove them back panic-stricken to the
coast of Flanders.[251]
On 4th July the King’s guardians issued from Gloucester a summons for
a council to be held at Oxford on the 15th. It seems not to have actually met
till a week later; and on 26th or 27th July the King and the Marshal returned
to Gloucester, after issuing (22nd July) a summons for another assembly to
be held at Oxford on 6th August.[252] The royal forces were increasing more
and more. Two great nobles had joined them since Louis’s return to
England—the Earl of Warren before 22nd June, and the Earl of Arundel
before 14th July[253]—and nearly one hundred and fifty rebels submitted
between the end of May and the beginning of August.[254] When the host re-
assembled at Oxford[255] all was ready for the final struggle. From Oxford
they moved to Reading, and thence to Farnham;[256] there, it seems, the

leaders separated, the Legate and the King going northward again with one
part towards London, while another part under the Earl Marshal and the
justiciar made for the Kentish coast to prepare for its defence against the
expected French fleet.
From Dover the Marshal summoned the men of the Cinque Ports to arm
and assemble their ships at Sandwich. The aged warrior was eager to go
forth in person and encounter the French at sea, but his men would not
suffer it; he must stay on shore, they said, “for if it chanced that he were
slain or captured, who then would defend the land?”[257] On S.
Bartholomew’s eve he, with the Earl of Warren, King Wed., 23 Aug.
[258]
John’s elder son Richard, Philip d’Aubigné, and a
host of other “good knights,” lay encamped near Canterbury. They “slept
little,” for they all knew that the morrow might prove a day almost as
momentous as that of Senlac. At early dawn they 24 Aug.
marched to Sandwich. The day broke clear and bright,
with a “soft and pleasant” wind which soon brought into view the armament
coming from Calais.[259] It consisted of some eighty vessels of various
sizes;[260] ten of them were large ships of war, fully armed,[261] of which
four were filled with knights and six with men-at-arms; the smaller vessels
carried accoutrements and other goods.[262] Among the knights were some
of the noblest and bravest men of France;[263] those of highest rank and
fame, thirty-six in number, together with the treasure which Blanche was
sending to her husband, were in the ship of Eustace the Monk, who seems
to have been in command of the whole fleet.[264] The vessels were making
for the mouth of the Thames,[265] and as they swept round Thanet in close
array as if ready for a fight, Eustace’s ship leading,[266] their number and
character could be plainly distinguished by the Royalists drawn up on the
shore, as well as by the sailors who manned the English ships in Sandwich
harbour.[267]
At the eleventh hour the Marshal’s plan of campaign all but broke down.
The English fleet was ready; but it comprised only eighteen, or at the
utmost twenty-two, ships of any size, with some smaller ones to the number
of about twenty more;[268] and the sight of the enemy’s superior fleet struck
such terror into the sailors that they lost their heads completely, left their
ships with the sails all hoisted, and took refuge in their little boats.[269]

Once more the Marshal appealed to them as only he could appeal. Again he
offered to go with them; but again his own men forbade it.[270] Then by a
characteristic exhortation he shamed the mariners out of their fears. “God
has given us one victory over the French on land. Now they are coming
again, to claim the country against Him. But He has power to help the good
on sea as well as on shore,[271] and He will help His own. You have the
advantage in the game; you will conquer the enemies of God!”[272] The
impressionable sailors caught a new spirit from the landsmen who, fresh
from their victory over superior numbers at Lincoln, were fearless of the
risk of another encounter at similar odds.[273] One ship was quickly filled
with the Marshal’s own followers, under his nephew John;[274] Richard the
King’s son went on board another with a company of knights;[275] a third
was occupied by Earl Warren’s men, the Earl himself remaining on shore
with the Marshal;[276] Philip d’Aubigné probably commanded a contingent
from the Channel Isles. Hubert de Burgh seems to have joined the muster
by sea, coming from Dover in “a fine ship” of his own,[277] and to have
taken the supreme command.
The skill and energy of the English sailors quickly atoned for their
momentary panic. Though wind and tide were both against them,[278] they
came up in the rear of the French fleet just as it reached the mouth of the
estuary. For a moment the leading English ship—that of Hubert—seemed
about to close with the enemy; then it suddenly shot forward, as if the
commander’s purpose were not to give battle, but to avoid it.[279] On seeing
this, the French shifted their sails, and with insulting cries of “La hart! la
hart!”—a call with which huntsmen were wont to urge their hounds after
the quarry—turned round to the attack, their line still headed by the ship of
Eustace the Monk.[280] This was probably the largest and most formidable
vessel of the French fleet; but it was overloaded; it carried, besides its
freight of men and treasure, some valuable horses for Louis, and a
trebuchet; and in consequence, it lay so deep in the water that the waves
almost overflowed its deck. Sir Richard the King’s son laid his ship
alongside it at once; Earl Warren’s men quickly brought up their ship on its
other side. This latter ship was only a cog, or fishing vessel; but being light
it stood high above the water, and its occupants were thus able to cast down
potfuls of lime and stones on their adversaries’ heads, with blinding if not

deadly effect.[281] Meanwhile the armed galleys of the English fleet, few
though they were in number, were doing fatal execution on some of the
other French ships, piercing them with their iron beaks and sinking them.
Now, too, the French had the wind in their teeth, and it carried into their
faces clouds of quicklime thrown up into the air by the English. Moreover,
Philip d’Aubigné had with him a company of crossbowmen whose arrows
wrought havoc among the enemy.[282] At length a man-at-arms from
Guernsey, Reginald Payne, leaped from the deck of the cog to that of
Eustace’s ship with such an impetus that in alighting he knocked down a
French knight, William des Barres; in another moment he had prostrated a
second foeman of rank and disabled a third; amid the confusion thus created
all the fighting men on the cog followed him, and Eustace’s ship was
captured with all on board.[283] On seeing this the remaining French ships
took to flight. The victors chased them all the way back to Calais.[284] Only
fifteen vessels—the largest in the fleet except that of Eustace—reached the
harbour; of the lesser ones many were taken[285] and the rest sunk.[286] The
slaughter was frightful; only thirty-two men, all of high rank and renown,
were retained as prisoners on the ship which had belonged to Eustace, and
even these were with difficulty saved by the English knights from the fury
of the men-at-arms and sailors whose valour had won that great prize.[287]
On every other captured vessel only a man or two were left alive; the rest
were slain and “flung to the fishes for food.”[288]
When the fight and the chase were over and the prizes all towed into
Sandwich, one prisoner was missed: Eustace the Monk. After a long search
he was found hiding in the hold of his ship[289] from the universal hatred of
which he knew himself to be the object, not only as the commander of the
hostile fleet, but still more as a traitor of the deepest dye and a man of
infamous character in every respect. He offered to give his captors ten
thousand marks and to serve King Henry faithfully if they would grant him
his life, “but it could not be.” One Stephen, a seaman of Winchelsea, who
had sailed with him in earlier days when he was in the service of King John,
flung in his face a recital of all his misdoings on land and sea, and bade him
choose whether to have his head cut off on the ship’s deck or on the
trebuchet. “Neither alternative was sweet,” says a contemporary writer with
grim sarcasm; “anyway, they cut off his head. That was his festival
day.”[290] The severed head was afterwards stuck on the point of a spear and

carried round the neighbourhood, to shew the people, who had long lived in
terror of the ruthless freebooter, that he was really dead.[291] The prisoners
were sent to Dover to be put in ward in the castle under the charge of
Hubert;[292] Philip d’Aubigné was despatched to carry news of the victory
to the Legate and the King;[293] the Marshal stayed to superintend the
division of the spoils. There was a large quantity of valuable things, money,
plate, clothes, horses, arms, harness, provisions of various kinds; the
Marshal contrived to distribute these in such a way that every man thought
his own share better than that of his fellows, and yet to leave a residue
which, with the hearty assent of the sailors, he devoted to the foundation of
a hospital for “God’s poor,” in honour of the Saint on whose festival day the
victory had been won.[294]
The Fair of Lincoln had, as a contemporary writer emphatically says,
“destroyed the [rebel] barons.”[295] It had deprived Louis of the bulk of his
English allies, and left the French conquest of England to be accomplished,
if accomplished at all, solely by French hands. Had the French
reinforcements effected a landing and defeated the Royalists in one battle,
such a conquest might still have been possible. But when the tidings of that
S. Bartholomew’s day reached Louis, he at once saw that his cause was lost.
[296]
While the Marshal’s division of the English host was in Kent, the other
division, with the Legate and the young King, had encamped round about
London, more closely than the Royalists had yet approached the capital
since Louis’s return. Gualo seems to have placed Henry with his mother in
the safe shelter of Windsor castle while he himself ventured as near to
London as Kingston; one day, however, a report reached him that the
French were sallying forth to attack him, whereupon he rode hastily back to
Windsor. This French sally may have been the “very fine raid, wherein the
lesser folk won much gain,” which is said to have been made about this
time by the young Duke of Brittany. Again there was ineffectual talk of
peace. Then the Legate proposed a siege of the city; but for this the lay
leaders deemed their forces insufficient, and they retired each man to his
own quarters. Another unsuccessful attempt at pacification, made by a
Cistercian monk who was one of the Pope’s penitentiaries, was followed by
a meeting of the Queen-mother and the Count of Nevers, between Windsor
and London; “they spoke amicably, and parted amicably, but without
making peace.” Louis was so conscious of peril that he removed from the

bishop’s house to the Tower, “to be more in safety.”[297] The news of the
battle of Sandwich reached him late on the evening of Saturday, 26th
August. On Monday, 28th, Robert of Dreux went under a safe-conduct from
the King to speak with the Marshal at Rochester; next day one of the newly-
captured French knights, Robert de Courtenay, was allowed to go to
London to speak with Louis, Dreux remaining as a hostage in his stead.[298]
After consulting with Courtenay and others, Louis decided to ask for a
parley with William the Marshal in person.[299]
William took counsel with the other Royalists; “and there were some
who spoke rightly bravely, though they had kept away from the coast in the
hour of need.” These men said: “We do not want to conciliate Louis. The
only parley we want is a siege of London.” But the valiant men who had
been in the fight were wiser; they besought the Marshal to get the French
out of the country “and not to let lack of money be a hindrance, for they
would help him to the utmost of their power, with their hearts and bodies
and possessions.” He therefore agreed to go and parley with Louis.[300] He
took with him, however, all the Royalists who had accompanied him into
Kent; and the whole English host, thus reunited, now blockaded the city by
land, while on 1st September the “barons” of the Cinque Ports were bidden
to bring all their ships to the mouth of the Thames for the King’s service,
[301]
thus cutting off the capital from all chance of communication by sea. It
was obvious that if Louis did not make terms at once, he would speedily be
starved into unconditional surrender.[302] He took a course which was not
only safer, but also more honourable both for himself and his adversaries,
when he met the Marshal and the Justiciar in conference outside London.
He frankly committed himself into their hands and those 5 Sept.
of the Legate, requesting them to dictate their own terms,
on the sole condition that those terms should be such as would neither
dishonour him nor offend his companions in arms.[303]
The Marshal and the Justiciar returned to Windsor, and Louis to London.
From that night—Tuesday, 5th September—till Saturday, 9th, he waited in
vain for their expected propositions; then, on the advice of his barons, he
determined to make a sally early next morning and try to cut his way out.
Late on the Saturday night, however, as they were about 9 Sept.
to separate and make their preparations for the morrow’s

venture, a letter was brought to him from the Marshal asking for a day’s
truce and requesting that Hugh de Malaunay might be sent to speak with the
Marshal and the council. Both these requests Louis granted. A parley was
then fixed for Tuesday (12th September), and a prolongation of the truce till
Thursday (14th) was guaranteed by the Queen, the two William Marshals,
the Earls of Salisbury, Warren, and Arundel, and some other magnates.
Malaunay returned on Monday, 11th, and “told Louis what he had got.”[304]
It was evidently something of great importance, for Louis at once
“summoned his whole council, and the barons of England who held with
him, and the citizens, and asked their advice upon it; and they all approved
it.”[305]
What Malaunay had brought was evidently the definite offer of terms for
which Louis had asked. Louis had put himself—“saving his honour”—into
the hands of the King’s guardians; “therefore,” as a contemporary English
historian says, “they, with whom the whole matter rested, and who desired
above all things to get rid of Louis, sent back to him a certain form of peace
drawn up in writing;[306] to which if he consented, they would undertake to
secure for him and his adherents a safe departure from England; if not, they
would use their utmost efforts to compass his ruin.”[307] The terms which
they offered seem to have been these: The adherents and allies of Louis in
England, Henry and his adherents, London and the other towns, were all to
have their respective rights and lands as they had them at the beginning of
the war. (A later clause explained that this provision was not to apply to
clerks, except as regards lay fees held by them.) Prisoners on both sides,
taken since Louis’s coming to England, to be set free; those taken earlier, to
be released if three persons, to be chosen by Henry’s council from the
council of Louis, should swear that they were Louis’s men on the day of
their capture; for all prisoners, ransoms already paid to be kept; ransoms
now due to be paid; ransoms not yet due to be remitted; and all disputes to
be settled by the aforesaid three. All English prisoners, and other English
subjects who were in arms against King John, to give security for their
fidelity to Henry, by homage, oaths, and charters, according to the custom
of England. Money for the payment of which hostages had been given to
Louis was to be paid at once, if the date fixed for the payment had arrived,
and the hostages were to be restored. All cities, lands, and other property
which had been forcibly occupied in England were to be restored to the

King or other owners. Louis was to send letters to the brothers of Eustace
the Monk bidding them restore to Henry the islands (some of the Channel
Isles) which Eustace had seized; if they failed to do so, Louis was to
distrain the lands which they held of him; and if they were then still
contumacious, they were to be outside this peace. Louis and Henry were
each to send a copy of the peace to King Alexander of Scotland, and he, if
he wished to be included in it, was to restore all castles, lands, and
prisoners, taken by him during the war. Louis was to send a copy, on the
same conditions, to Llywelyn and the other Welsh princes. Louis was to
quit-claim to all the barons and men of England all homage, fealty,
confederations, and alliances, and never henceforth to make, on account of
this war, any confederation which might at any time cause damage to the
English King. The barons of England were to swear to Henry that they
would enter into no confederation or undertaking against him or his heirs,
with Louis or with any other person. Louis was to take his corporal oath,
and his men with him, and such of them as the King’s council should
choose were also to pledge themselves individually by charters, that they
would keep this peace firmly and faithfully; and Louis was to do his utmost
to obtain confirmation of it from the Pope.[308] All debts now due to Louis
were to be paid.[309]
Well might Louis and his counsellors “all approve” this draft treaty. Even
if it was not—as in all likelihood it was—accompanied by a verbal
intimation of the Marshal’s willingness to pay Louis an indemnity in
money, still the terms were much less hard than they had expected.[310] The
issue of the next day’s conference was now a foregone conclusion.[311] The
meeting took place in an islet in the Thames, opposite Kingston.[312] The
Royalists drew up on one side of the river, the French on the other. Louis
and his counsellors entered a boat and were rowed to the island, where they
found the Queen, with the Legate “clad all in scarlet,” the Marshal, and the
other members of the English King’s council, as well as the King himself.
[313]
Louis and his men swore on the Gospels, first of all, that they would
stand to the judgement of the Church and be faithful to Church and Pope
from that day forward.[314] Then they swore to the conditions of peace
already set forth,[315] Louis adding a promise that he would, if possible,
induce his father to restore to Henry his rights beyond the sea. Henry then
laid his hand on the Book, and, together with the Legate and the Marshal,

made oath to restore to the barons of England and all other men of the realm
all their rights and heritages, with all the liberties formerly demanded, for
which the discord between John and the barons had arisen.[316] Lastly, an
indemnity of (seemingly) ten thousand marks was promised to Louis, for
which the Earl Marshal made himself personally responsible.[317]
Thus, on Tuesday, September 12th,[318] the peace was made. The
absolution of Louis and his followers was deferred till next day, because the
prelates had not brought their “chapels” with them,[319] and also because
Gualo declared that Louis should have no absolution unless he would come
“barefooted and shirtless, clothed in a woollen gown”—the proper garb of a
penitent. The Frenchmen however begged hard that their lord might be
suffered to come with his woollen gown hidden under his robe; and to this
Gualo consented.[320] Both parties returned to their lodgings for the night.
Next day the Legate and the bishops put on their silken Wed., 13 Sept.
copes and their mitres and absolved Louis and all his
men, except the four clerks specially reserved for the judgement of the
Pope,[321] who were made to withdraw from the island while the absolution
was taking place. Gualo then sent the Pope’s penitentiary to London to
absolve the citizens and others who had not been present at the conference.
[322]
On Thursday, September 14th, the conclusion of the peace was
formally announced in the King’s name.[323] On Sunday, 17th, the Legate
went to Merton priory, and next day the peace was 18 Sept.
confirmed there, on the one part by Louis with the
Counts of Britanny, Nevers, and Dreux, and “many others from France,” on
the other part by the Queen with many English bishops, earls, barons, and
knights. On the 22nd Louis came to Merton again, to receive from the
Legate’s penitentiary injunctions about his penance.[324] After this he was
escorted to Dover by the Legate, the Marshal, and other magnates,[325] and
sailed for France on Michaelmas eve.[326]

FOOTNOTES: [Skip footnotes]

[1] Cf. W. Coventry, vol. ii. p. 232, and Rog. Wendover (ed. Coxe), vol. iii. pp. 385–6.

[2] Hist. de Guill. le Maréchal, ll. 15170–90. Cf. Hist. des Ducs de Normandie, p. 180.

[3] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15207–57.

[4] “Quem gratia juventutis et innocentia cunctis reddidit amabilem, et venusta facies
cum flava caesarie singulis favorabilem, sermo quoque maturus universis venerabilem.”
Mat. Paris, Hist. Angl., vol. ii. p. 196.

[5] “Qui son meistre e son norriçon Out este e encor esteit,” Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15263–
4. These words seem to imply that Ralf was Henry’s tutor, or teacher, but this cannot have
been the case, for Ralf was only a man-at-arms, “serviens” (Close Rolls, vol. i. pp. 345 b,
362); no doubt, one whose proved fidelity to the late king had entitled him to be specially
trusted to watch over the safety of the heir.

[6] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15261–84.

[7] Ib. ll. 15287–305.

[8] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 1.

[9] Henry, son of Henry II.

[10] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15306–24.

[11] M. Paris, Chron. Maj., vol. iii. p. 1; Hist. Angl., vol. ii. p. 195.

[12] “Cum orationibus et cantuum modulationibus quae in coronatione regum solent
decantari,” R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 2.

[13] “Sertum quoddam,” T. Wykes, a. 1216.

[14] The Hist. des Ducs, p. 181, and the Annals of Margan, Tewkesbury, Winchester, and
Waverley, a. 1216, say that Henry was crowned by Gualo; the Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15329–
31, says “Wales la messe li chanta, Li legaz, e sil corona, O li evesques qui la furent”; and
the official letter written in Henry’s name to the Justiciar of Ireland says he was crowned
“by the hands of Gualo the Cardinal legate and the bishops then present” (Foedera, I. i. p.
145). Probably, however, they all mean merely what is expressly, though awkwardly, stated
by the Merton chronicler—“Coronatus ... a domino Syvalone legato ... assistentibus sibi
domino Petro Wintoniensi episcopo qui eum inunxit et coronam imposuit capiti, ut dicunt”
&c. (Petit-Dutaillis, Vie de Louis VIII., p. 514), and more clearly by the Barnwell annalist:
“Imposuit autem ei manus ex jussu legati episcopus Wintoniensis” (W. Cov., vol. ii. p.
233). Roger of Wendover (vol. iv. p. 2) says Henry was crowned and anointed by Bishop
Peter; Matthew Paris (Chron. Maj., vol. iii. p. 2) that Peter of Winchester and Jocelyn of
Bath crowned him; the Dunstable annalist (Ann. Monast., vol. iii. p. 48) that he was

crowned by Gualo’s authority, but by the hands of the Bishops of Winchester, Worcester,
and Exeter. Wykes’s account of the coronation is obviously fantastic, except in one detail,
that of the “sertum quoddam,” which is no doubt correct, as certainly no real crown could
be available.

[15] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15333–46. This corrects the statement of R. Wendover, l.c.,
“duxerunt regem ... regalibus indutum ad mensam.”

[16] Chron. Merton, l.c.

[17] Winchester, Worcester, Chester (or Coventry), Bath, Exeter, and Meath; see R.
Wend., vol. iv. p. 1, Ann. Wav., a. 1216, Ann. Dunst. a. 1215, p. 48, and Chron. Merton, l.c.

[18] R. Wend., l.c.

[19] Ann. Wav., a. 1216. This Chronicle and Roger both add the Earl of Chester, but they
are certainly wrong.

[20] R. Wend., l.c.

[21] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15347–72. For the name of the place see errata to vol. ii. p. 390.

[22] Ib. ll. 15373–15400.

[23] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15465–561. Cf. Hist. Ducs, p. 181: “Guillaume li Mareschaus fu
eslius a iestre souvrains baillius del regne.”

[24] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15579–15610.

[25] W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 233.

[26] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15611–30.

[27] Ib. ll. 15401–64.

[28] “L’om m’a baillie ceste baillie,
Qui ja est pres de mesballie;” ll. 15641–2.

[29] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15628–708.

[30] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 3.

[31] Foedera, I. i. p. 145.

[32] See the list of witnesses to the Charter, Statutes of the Realm—Charters of
Liberties, p. 14.

[33] Ann. Wav., a. 1216.

[34] First Charter of Henry III., c. 1.

[35] Magna Charta, c. 2, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 2.

[36] Ib. cc. 3, 4, 5.

[37] Ib. cc. 6, 7.

[38] 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 5.

[39] Ib. c. 9, M. C., c. 9.

[40] M. C., c. 16, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 11.

[41] M. C., c. 17, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 12.

[42] M. C., cc. 18, 19, 1st Ch. Hen. III., cc. 13, 14.

[43] M. C., cc. 20, 21, 22, 1st Ch. Hen. III., cc. 15, 16, 17.

[44] M. C., c. 23, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 18.

[45] M. C., c. 24, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 19.

[46] M. C., c. 29, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 22.

[47] M. C., c. 31, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 24.

[48] M. C., c. 32, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 25.

[49] M. C., c. 33, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 26.

[50] M. C., c. 34, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 27.

[51] M. C., c. 36, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 29.

[52] M. C., c. 37, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 30.

[53] M. C., c. 35, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 28.

[54] M. C., c. 38, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 31.

[55] M. C., c. 39, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 32.

[56] M. C., c. 40, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 33.

[57] M. C., c. 43, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 35.

[58] M. C., c. 44, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 36.

[59] M. C., c. 46, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 37.

[60] M. C., c. 54, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 39.

[61] M. C., c. 47, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 38.

[62] M. C., c. 56, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 40.

[63] M. C., c. 13, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 10.

[64] M. C., c. 28, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 21.

[65] M. C., c. 30, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 23.

[66] M. C., c. 41, 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 34.

[67] M. C., cc. 10, 11, 48, 43, 50, 52, 55, 57, 45.

[68] M. C., cc. 25, 27, 42.

[69] M. C., cc. 12, 14.

[70] M. C., c. 15.

[71] 1st Ch. Hen. III., c. 41.

[72] M. C., cc. 49, 58, 59.

[73] 1st Charter of Henry III., c. 42; Statutes of the Realm—Charters of Liberties, pp.
14–16.

[74] W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 233.

[75] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 3.

[76] Ib. pp. 3, 4.

[77] W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 232. The words are “Hiis diebus, antequam de obitu regis mentio
fieret, impetraverunt qui apud Dovram obsessi erant inducias usque post Pascha, et soluta
est obsidio”; but the more detailed accounts in our other authorities clearly show that
though hostilities were suspended before John’s death, the siege was not actually raised till
the beginning of November. Mr. G. J. Turner appears to have overlooked this fact when he
wrote that Hubert’s absence from the coronation “excites some suspicion concerning his
loyalty” (“Minority of Henry III.,” part I., Trans. Roy. Hist. Soc., 2nd Series, vol. xviii., p.
246). It was precisely Hubert’s loyalty which made it impossible for him to leave Dover till
his truce with Louis was prolonged and the siege raised.

[78] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 4. Cf. Hist. Ducs, p. 182: “Grant doute avoient” [the king’s
friends] “de Looys, qui se partit tost de Douvre apries chou que la trive fu prise entre lui et
cels dedens, si s’en vint à Londres.”

[79] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 4.

[80] For Newark and Lincoln see Hist. Ducs, p. 181; for Sleaford see below, p. 25.

[81] Norwich castle is said by Roger of Wendover (vol. iii. pp. 378–9) to have been
“found empty” and garrisoned by Louis before John’s death; but this is a very unlikely
story. Without discussing objections in detail, it is enough to say that in the French
expedition into East Anglia (R. Wend., l.c., M. Paris, Hist. Angl., vol. ii. p. 182) during
which this important acquisition is alleged to have been made, Louis had in reality no

personal share at all, being at the time busy winning castles in Hampshire; and that the
expedition was clearly a mere raid, from which all the French troops engaged in it returned
to meet Louis again in London. Cf. Hist. Ducs, p. 172.

[82] Hist. Ducs, p. 181.

[83] Hist. Ducs, p. 180.

[84] Ib. p. 182.

[85] R. Wend., vol. iv. pp. 4–5.

[86] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15717–28. According to one account, Louis made over Hertford
to Robert FitzWalter, to whom it had formerly belonged (Hist. Ducs, l.c.); according to
another, FitzWalter claimed it, but was put off with a temporizing answer, on the advice of
Louis’s French knights, who said, truly enough, that “Englishmen who had betrayed their
own sovereign were not fit to be trusted with castles.” R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 5.

[87] R. Wend., vol. iv. pp. 5, 6.

[88] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15735–41.

[89] Henry was at Oxford in 1217 on January 13–20, and again January 27–February 1;
Close Rolls, vol. i. pp. 295 b–297.

[90] On all these truces and surrenders see Note I at end.

[91] W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 235.

[92] E.g., the stores, &c., removed from Norwich and Orford were on 8th February
assigned for the reinforcement of Dover; Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 335 b.

[93] Hist. Ducs, p. 182.

[94] W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 235.

[95] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 11.

[96] W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 235.

[97] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 6.

[98] Patent Rolls Hen. III., vol. i. p. 109. See Note I.

[99] R. Wend., vol. iv. pp. 10–11.

[100] “Prise par engien.” Hist. Ducs, p. 182.

[101] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 17.

[102] “Qui la”—i.e., at Rye—“estoit a grant plente de nes biens garnies de gens armees,
comme chil qui la mer ot a garder de par le roi.” Hist. Ducs, p. 183.

[103] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15779, &c.

[104] Cf. Hist. Ducs, pp. 181, 183, and Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15768–9 and 15795–808.

[105] Hist. Ducs, p. 183.

[106] Hist. Ducs, pp. 184–187.

[107] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15859–67; cf. Hist. Ducs, p. 187.

[108] From the Hist. G. le Mar. alone it might be supposed that the Marshal himself had
headed the expedition which captured Rye; but the Rolls distinctly show that this was not
the case.

[109] “Crucesignati.” Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 108–109.

[110] Hist. Ducs, p. 187.

[111] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15868–9, 16034–6. We get the date by comparing these latter
lines with the date of Louis’s return; see M. Paul Meyer’s note 5, vol. iii. p. 225.

[112] W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 235.

[113] Ann. Wav., a. 1217.

[114] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 5.

[115] Hist. G. le Mar., l. 15884.

[116] When they had a joint letter of safe conduct to go to the court for six days; Pat.
Rolls, vol. i. p. 10, 8th December, 1216.

[117] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15872–86.

[118] A dateless letter from the Earl Marshal, Walter de Lacy, William de Cantelupe, and
Falkes, to the Earl of Salisbury and the younger Marshal, sets forth that the writers have
sworn “quod conventionem prolocutam inter dominum nostrum Henricum regem Angliæ
illustrem et nos” [sic, but surely it should be vos?] “pro posse nostro firmiter et absque
malo ingenio teneri faciemus,” wherefore the two persons addressed are to come without
delay to the writers, who will have them absolved by the Bishop of Chichester, he being
empowered by the Pope and the Legate to absolve persons returning to allegiance. Pat.
Rolls, vol. i. p. 109.

[119] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15884–96.

[120] Cf. ib. ll. 15901–2, and Close Rolls, vol. i., p. 299.

[121] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 37.

[122] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 15943–4.

[123] Ib. l. 15972.

[124] Ib. ll. 15960–84. Reinforcements were on 7th April summoned to be at Winchester
on Wednesday after the close of Easter, i.e., 10th April; Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 335 b.

[125] “S’en alerent Baucone,” Hist. G. le Mar., 15986. The name is hopelessly corrupt;
M. Meyer suggests in a note “à Suzhantone?” It is probably either Southampton or
Odiham; cf. Hist. Ducs, pp. 187, 189.

[126] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16003–10. The place is there called Rovcestre, but there can be
no doubt Porchester is meant; we know from the Close Roll, vol. i. p. 301 b, that the siege
of Porchester was begun before 20th March.

[127] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16011–33.

[128] Hist. Ducs, pp. 187, 189.

[129] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 57, 62.

[130] Hist. Ducs, p. 188.

[131] See the orders “de conversis” in Close Rolls, vol. i. pp. 300 b et seq.

[132] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 14. Cf. Hist. Ducs, p. 189, and Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16092–6.
Roger gives the date, “post Paschalem solemnitatem,” i.e., after 26th March.

[133] Hist. Ducs, p. 188.

[134] “In vigilia S. Georgii martyris,” Chron. Merton in Petit-Dutaillis, p. 514. The
Barnwell Annalist (W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 236) says, “Sabbato quo finiendae erant treugae
applicuit Lodowicus apud Sandwich.” The day on which the truce would end, if the
“month after Easter” (see above, p. 19), meant a calendar month, would be 26th April, and
not Saturday but Wednesday. But a month of four weeks from Easter would expire on
Saturday, 22nd April; and this interpretation is confirmed by the Hist. Ducs (l.c.), one MS.
of which says Louis sailed “le venredi devant le mois de Pasques”; see M. Francisque-
Michel’s note, ib., and M. Paul Meyer’s notes to Hist. G. le Mar., vol. iii. p. 225. The only
doubt is whether Louis sailed on the night of Friday, 21st April, and landed on Saturday,
22nd, or sailed on Saturday, 22nd, and landed on Sunday, 23rd. As the preponderance of
evidence seems to be in favour of the latter view, I have based my reckoning of the dates of
his subsequent movements on the assumption of its correctness.

[135] Hist. Ducs, p. 189.

[136] W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 236.

[137] “Fist tant a Hubiers de Bourg que les trives furent alongies,” Hist. Ducs, l.c.
Hubert may or may not have been there in person; the “truce” is obviously only the local
one, limited to Dover and quite independent of the general truce, which was now
unquestionably ended.

[138] Hist. Ducs, l.c.

[139] W. Cov., l.c.

[140] Hist. Ducs, l.c.

[141] Hist. Ducs, pp. 189, 190.

[142] Comparing Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16039–44 and 16052–53, with Hist. Ducs, pp. 189,
190, I venture to think that this is the true meaning of the poet’s somewhat confused story,
notwithstanding M. Meyer’s note 1, vol. iii. p. 225. The fact that the Marshal was attesting
royal letters at Winchester from 14 March onwards does not prove that he had gained
possession of the castle before that date.

[143] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16048–50. The order for razing Chichester castle had been
issued before, on 16 April; Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 57.

[144] “Li castiaus n’ot garde,” Hist. Ducs, p. 190.

[145] Hist. Ducs, l.c.

[146] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 14.

[147] “Qui escondire ne li pot.” Hist. Ducs, l.c.

[148] From R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 15, we should suppose that Saer’s appeal to Louis was
made in London; but the Hist. Ducs, l.c., shows that it was made at Farnham. On the other
hand, the Flemish chronicler represents Saer as departing straightway from Farnham for
Mountsorel “on the morrow,” i.e. Saturday, 29 April, “o grant chevalerie d’Englois” and
some seventy French knights (pp. 190, 191); while Roger says the relieving force—which
he makes to consist of six hundred knights and more than twenty thousand men-at-arms—
started from London “pridie kalendas Maii, id est die Lunae proximo ante Ascensionem
Domini” (l.c.). The last day of April, 1217, was Sunday, not Monday. I think we may
combine the two accounts, and assume that Saer left Farnham on April 29 to go not
directly towards Leicestershire, but to London. The journey thither, and the necessary
preparations after he had joined his associates there, must have taken a couple of days, and
the combined forces could hardly set out before Monday, 1 May. The Ann. Dunst., p. 49,
say the relieving force consisted of “the barons who were at London,” the Count of Perche,
the Marshal of France, and ten thousand armati whom Louis had given them. The Hist. G.
le Mar., ll. 16085–92, which says the party set out from Winchester at the same time that
Louis and the rest of his forces returned thence to London, is obviously quite wrong.

[149] R. Wend., vol. iv. pp. 15–17.

[150] “Satis innocenter,” Ann. Dunst., p. 49.

[151] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 17. W. Cov., vol. ii; p. 237. Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16097–16105.

[152] Hist. Ducs, pp. 191, 192. Cf. Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16055–81.

[153] Hist. Ducs, pp. 192, 193. “E li Waudois les assaillirent, mais desconfis furent.”

[154] Hist. Ducs, p. 194. Cf. R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 17, and W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 237.

[155] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16115–26.

[156] Ib. ll. 16126–53.

[157] “Se sunt embatuz folement,” l. 16161.

[158] Ib. ll. 16153–99.

[159] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 18.

[160] Ib. For the knights see also Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16264–6 and 17025.

[161] R. Wend., vol. iv. pp. 18, 19.

[162] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16203–24.

[163] R. Wend., vol. iv. pp. 19, 20. Cf. Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16225–32.

[164] R. Wend., l.c.

[165] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16236–7.

[166] Ib. l. 16238.

[167] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 20.

[168] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16240–46. Cf. R. Wend., l.c. In p. 25 Roger gives the date of
the battle as “quarto decimo kalendas Junii, sabbato scilicet in hebdomada Pentecostes,”
where the ecclesiastical date is correct, but not the civil one. One MS. of the Hist. Ducs
makes it “la velle de la Pentecouste;” but the other has “la velle de la Trinite,” p. 194, note
3. The Annals of Waverley, a. 1217, give the true date, “tertio decimo kalendas Junii, in
hebdomada Pentecostes.” So also R. Coggeshall, p. 185.

[169] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16277–310, 16331–4.

[170] Ib. ll. 16247–61, 16314–15.

[171] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 20. He makes seven divisions, or “battles,” instead of four,
but gives no details of their arrangement. It is possible that either he or the Marshal’s
biographer may have put the crossbowmen in a wrong place.

[172] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16418–24.

[173] Cf. ib. ll. 16427–32 and R. Wend., vol. iv. pp. 21, 22.

[174] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16434–60.

[175] R. Wend., vol. iv. pp. 20, 21. Cf. Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16341–72.

[176] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16373–97.

[177] Ib. ll. 16998–9.

[178] “Whom God preserve both in body and soul!” prays the Marshal’s biographer, l.
16492. The other party called her “molt engigneuse e mal querans e vighereuse vielle,”

Anon. Béthune, quoted by Petit-Dutaillis, p. 148.

[179] Hist. G. le Mar., vol. iii. p. clix.

[180] Ib. ll. 16467–510.

[181] On the “blocked gate” see Note II.

[182] The whole city above hill, except the minster precincts, was in the “bail” or
jurisdiction of the castle.

[183] It had at least seven, without counting the two Bar-Gates beyond the river.

[184] I think this is to be inferred from Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16544–52; see Note II.

[185] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16521–34.

[186] E. Mansel Sympson, Lincoln, pp. 24, 25.

[187] “At illi” [i.e. majores exercitus] “per eam” [the “little back door” of the castle,
“posterulam quae propter adventum eorum fuerat jam aperta,” cf. above, p. 36] “noluerunt
omnes intrare, sed miserunt Falcasium cum agmine toto cui praeerat et cum balistariis
omnibus, qui portam civitatis saltem unam exercitui aperirent. Deinde omnis multitudo ad
portam se aquilonarem conferens illam confringere vacavit ... Falcasius interim castrum
cum agmine cui praeerat ac balistariis omnibus ingressus,” &c. R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 22.

[188] R. Wend., l.c. See Note III.

[189] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16541–55. See Note III.

[190] “Mes soufrez que entor la tor Augent dui home tot entor De chascune de nos
batailles Qui enquerront les repostailles,” ll. 16563–66. La tor ought of course to mean the
castle. But the castle was known to be surrounded on three of its sides by enemies in open
action against it; to send men to look for “ambushes” round it seems therefore absurd, and
would certainly have been impracticable. Can la tor be a scribe’s error for le mur, and did
the poet mean “round the wall of the city”? Or can “entor la tor” be a sheer blunder for
something wholly different, and should ll. 16564–5 be construed together—“Let two men
go all round each of our battles,” &c.?

[191] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16567–16628.

[192] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 22.

[193] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16643–77.

[194] R. Wend., l.c.

[195] The poet in ll. 16335–40 excludes the English rebels from his reckoning; but in ll.
17026–7 he seems to include the English knights fighting on the French side in the six
hundred and eleven. The Hist. Ducs, p. 191, makes only seventy French knights.

[196] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 25.

[197] “Nundinae,” R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 25. See Professor Tout’s article on “The Fair of
Lincoln,” Eng. Hist. Rev., April, 1903, p. 241, note 2. Cf. also Hist. G. le Mar., l. 16334
(see above, p. 34).

[198] “Li lor mestre perreior.”

[199] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16630–42.

[200] That is, after going along what is now the street called Westgate to its junction
with that now known as Bailgate (a portion of the old Ermine Street), they turned
southward down the latter; the “church on their left” would be All Saints, near the angle
formed by the junction of Bailgate and Eastgate. The cathedral church would have been
called not “un moustier” but “le moustier,” as in l. 16705.

[201] Obviously the space between the west front of the cathedral church and the east
gate of the castle.

[202] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16681–708.

[203] William the Breton, Gesta Philippi Aug., c. 223.

[204] Hist. G. le Mar., l. 16707.

[205] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 23.

[206] Ib. p. 24.

[207] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16729–68.

[208] “Aval une rue a senestre S’en tornerent vers Wikefort,” ll. 16774–5. Perche and
his men had evidently been fighting with their backs towards the east front of the minster,
so that the “street on their left” would be the main road—Ermine Street, Steep Hill, High
Street—running down due southward “towards Wigford” as the poet says.

[209] The present Stonebow was built in the fifteenth century, but the name “Stan-bogh”
occurs in a document dating from 1220–1230. Sympson, Lincoln, pp. 384, 425.

[210] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16777–828. Wigford Bridge is now called the High Bridge.

[211] “Reials! reials!” l. 16903.

[212] “Dont point ne m’ennuie,” contemptuously says the Marshal’s biographer, l.
16939.

[213] See Note IV.

[214] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16830–944.

[215] See Note IV.

[216] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 23.

[217] Ib., Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17002–20.

[218] Hist. Ducs, p. 194.

[219] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16997–17018.

[220] Saer de Quincy (Earl of Winchester), Henry de Bohun (Earl of Hereford), Gilbert
of Ghent, Robert FitzWalter, Richard de Montfichet, William de Mowbray, William de
Beauchamp, William Mauduit, Oliver D’Eyncourt, Roger de Cressy, William de Coleville,
William de Ros, Robert de Ropsley, Ralf Chaineduit, R. Wend.,vol. iv., pp. 23–24; to these
the continuator of Gervase of Canterbury (vol. ii. p. 111) adds Robert FitzWalter’s son,
Gilbert de Clare, Gerard de Furnival, Stephen and Maurice of Ghent, Nicolas and Eustace
de Stuteville, Warin de Montchensy, Ralf and Roger de Tony, Geoffrey de Say, Henry and
Philip, sons of Earl David (of Huntingdon), William de Huntingfield, William de Hastings,
Nicolas de Kennet, Robert de Grilley, Robert of Newburgh the constable of Hedingham,
John of Bassingbourne, Ralf Murdac, Anselm de Kent, William de Fiennes, Geoffrey and
Walter de St. Leger, Henry de Braybroke, Adam FitzWilliam, Simon de Kime, Walter de
Thinham, Robert Marmion the younger, John of St. Helen’s, William Martel, and John of
Sanford. The Chron. Merton (Petit-Dutaillis, p. 514) gives the total number as fifty-two.
One of those enumerated above, however—Henry de Braybroke—is said by the Dunstable
Annalist (p. 49) to have escaped with Simon de Poissy. Earl William de Mandeville and the
constable of Chester also escaped; Hist. Ducs, p. 195.

[221] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 24. Cont. Gerv. Cant., l.c. In W. Cov., vol. ii. pp. 237, 238, the
number is given as three hundred and eighty, but avowedly only on hearsay.

[222] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 16965–69.

[223] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 26.

[224] M. Paris, Hist. Angl., vol. ii. p. 213.

[225] R. Wend.,vol. iv. p. 24.

[226] Ib. pp. 24, 25.

[227] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17031–68.

[228] Hist. Ducs, p. 195.

[229] R. Wend., vol. iv. pp. 25, 26.

[230] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 64. The Marshal was back at Lincoln on the 22nd; Close
Rolls, vol. i. p. 308 b.

[231] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 26. Ann. Dunst., p. 50.

[232] Hist. Ducs, p. 195, says “le joesdi apries le Pentecouste” instead of after Trinity;
but this is a mistake caused by the writer having dated the battle a week too early; see
above, footnote 168.

[233] Hist. Ducs, pp. 195, 196.

[234] Ib. pp. 196, 197.

[235] Ann. Wav., a. 1217.

[236] Hist. Ducs, p. 197. The three abbots had letters of safe-conduct from the king, who
with the host was now at Reading, on 6th June; Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 68.

[237] Hist. Ducs, l.c.

[238] Rer. Gall. Scriptt., vol. xix. p. 636.

[239] Safe-conduct, dated 12th June, Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 69.

[240] They were Simon de Langton, Archdeacon of Canterbury and brother of the
Primate; Gervase of Hobrigg, Dean of S. Paul’s, London; Robert of S. Germain, a clerk of
the King of Scots; and Master Elias, a clerk of the Archbishop of Canterbury. From the
beginning of the war these men had set the Papal authority at defiance, and they were now
preaching at Paul’s Cross to the people and “giving them to understand that the Royalists
were excommunicate and that Louis and his men were good folk, wrongfully
excommunicated by the Pope.” Hist. Ducs, pp. 197, 198. See the Archbishop of Tyre’s
letter in Rer. Gall. Scriptt., vol. xix. pp. 636, 637, and cf. Hist. Ducs, p. 198, and W. Cov.,
vol. ii., p. 238.

[241] They had a safe-conduct to the sea on 21st June; Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 70, 71.

[242] Before 22nd June; Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 71.

[243] Foedera, I. i. p. 147.

[244] They were there 1–6 July; Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 77–79.

[245] Hist. Ducs, p. 198.

[246] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 27.

[247] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17085–103. The monstrous version of Philip’s speech given by
M. Paris, Hist. Angl., vol. ii. p. 216, is beneath notice except as an illustration of Matthew’s
own character as an historian.

[248] R. Wend., vol. iv. pp. 27, 28. See also the curious story in Récits d’un Ménestrel de
Reims, pp. 157, 158.

[249] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17117–24. Cf. Ann. Dunst., p. 50.

[250] One hundred, Hist. Ducs, p. 198; three hundred, R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 28.

[251] Hist. Ducs, pp. 198, 199.

[252] Close Rolls, vol. i. pp. 336, 314 b, 317, 336 b.

[253] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 71; Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 314.

[254] Petit-Dutaillis, p. 157. See especially Close Rolls, vol. i. pp. 310–312.

[255] August 7–13; Close Rolls, vol. i. pp. 317 b–319 b.

[256] Reading, August 14th; Farnham, August 15th. Ib. p. 320.

[257] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17167–210. Of this, again, Matthew Paris (Hist. Angl., vol. ii.
pp. 217, 218) has a version which is obviously a mere romance of his own, devised—as
needlessly as clumsily—to exalt Hubert de Burgh at the expense of the Marshal.

[258] Son of Warren’s sister; see Hist. Ducs, p. 200.

[259] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17262–85.

[260] So say Roger of Wendover, vol. iv. p. 28, and the Hist. Ducs, l.c. The Marshal’s
biographer, ll. 17293–4, says three hundred, but this does not tally with our accounts of the
smallness of the force which the fleet had to bring over.

[261] “Batellies.”

[262] Hist. Ducs, l.c.

[263] See the list in Hist. Ducs, p. 201.

[264] Cf. Hist. Ducs, l.c., and Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17160, 17290–91, and 17365–76.

[265] Hist. Ducs, l.c.

[266] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17286–90.

[267] Hist. Ducs, l.c.

[268] Cf. Hist. Ducs, l.c., Ann. Wav., a. 1217, Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17214–15, and R.
Wend., l.c.

[269] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17234–44.

[270] Ib. ll. 17245–56.

[271] “Mes Dex e en terre e en mer
A le poeir d’aidier as buens;
Donques aidera il as suens,” ll. 17322–24.

[272] Ib. ll. 17313–28.

[273] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 28.

[274] Cf. ib. and Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17309–10.

[275] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17307–8; Hist. Ducs, p. 201.

[276] Hist. Ducs, l.c.

[277] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17302–6.

[278] Ib. ll. 17329–31; R. Wend., l.c.

[279] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17354–58. Cf. M. Paris, Hist. Angl., vol. ii. p. 219.

[280] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17360–65.

[281] Ib. ll. 17377–404. Cf. Hist. Ducs, pp. 201, 202.

[282] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 29.

[283] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17405–433.

[284] Ib. ll. 17463–82.

[285] Hubert de Burgh came back with two of them in tow; ib. ll. 17505–08.

[286] Cf. Hist. Ducs, p. 201, and Ann. Wav., a. 1217.

[287] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17507–62.

[288] Ib. ll. 17473–80. The poet says, speaking “apres cels qui virent,” that there were
full four thousand Frenchmen slain, besides those who sprang overboard and were
drowned (Cf. R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 29). But he adds “Je n’i fui pas; ci m’en descombre De
dire ce que nuls ne seit,” ll. 17491–97.

[289] R. Wend., l.c.

[290] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17434–55, and Hist. Ducs, p. 202; cf. R. Wend., vol. iv. pp. 29,
30. This last says it was Richard the king’s son who answered the inveterate turncoat’s
offers of ransom and service by exclaiming “Nunquam de caetero falsis tuis
promissionibus quenquam in hoc saeculo seduces, proditor nequissime,” drawing his
sword and striking off his head. The French account seems more probable, as I think we
may safely identify the “Stephen Trabe” (or “Crave”) of the Hist. Ducs with the poet’s
“Stephen of Winchelsea.”

[291] Hist. Ducs, p. 202.

[292] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17572–76.

[293] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 30.

[294] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17510–68. The date is confirmed by Hist. Ducs, l.c., R. Wend.,
vol. iv. p. 28, and W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 238; the Ann. Wav., a. 1217, erroneously make it the
eve, instead of the day, of S. Bartholomew—“X. kal. Septembris.”

[295] “Destructi sunt barones apud Lincolniam.” Chron. Merton, Petit-Dutaillis, p. 514.

[296] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 30.

[297] Hist. Ducs, pp. 199, 200.

[298] Ib. p. 202.

[299] Ib. Cf. Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17634–41.

[300] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17642–76.

[301] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 89.

[302] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 30; cf. W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 239.

[303] “Ludowicus in arcto positus significavit Legato pariter ac Marescallo quod ipse
voluit consilio eorum in omnibus obedire, ita tamen quod salvo honore suo et sine suorum
scandalo pacem congruam providerent,” R. Wend., l.c. “Looys parla a eus” [the Marshal
and the Justiciar] “e il li orent en couvent que il se peneroient en boine foi de la pais faire,
e tele qui honnerable li seroit,” Hist. Ducs, p. 203.

[304] “Si conta a Looys che que il ot trouvé.”

[305] Hist. Ducs, pp. 203, 204. Cf. Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17683–90, where however it is
asserted that the French kept their English allies out of the council, “not wishing them to
know their secrets.”

[306] “At illi, in quibus totum pendebat negotium, et qui Lodowici liberationem supra
modum desiderabant, quandam pacis formam in scripto redactam ei remiserunt.” I am
conscious that my rendering of Lodowici liberationem is a bold one but I believe it
conveys the real meaning better than a strict translation.

[307] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 30.

[308] “Item, Dominus Ludovicus faciet juramentum corporale, et sui cum eo, et cartas
suas facient singuli quos consilium domini Regis voluerit, quod pacem praescriptam
firmiter et fideliter tenebunt; et ad impetrandam super hoc confirmationem Domini Papae
et Domini Legati apponet legale posse suum per preces.” Foedera, I. i. p. 148; D’Achéry,
Spicilegium, vol. iii. p. 586. Why Louis should be specially charged with the duty of
obtaining confirmation of the peace from the Pope, and still more from the Legate, when
the latter was at the head of those who were actually dictating its terms, is one of the many
puzzles connected with the treaty of Kingston. The Pope, however, did confirm the treaty,
on 13th January, 1218, and he says expressly that he did so at the request of Louis;
Foedera, I. i. p. 149.

[309] On the document summarized above see Note V.

[310] “Cum autem forma pacis ad Ludovicum pervenisset, audienda et inspicienda,
placuit, timens multa deteriora.” Flores Hist., vol. ii. p. 165.

[311] Roger of Wendover, vol. iv. p. 31, says that Louis after discussing the draft with
his friends sent to ask for a conference; but the Hist. Ducs, p. 203, distinctly indicates that
this meeting on Tuesday (11th September) had been arranged before the terms were sent to
him.

[312] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17702–3; Hist. Ducs, p. 204. R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 31, says
“near Staines.”

[313] Hist. Ducs, l.c.

[314] R. Wend., l.c.

[315] A stipulation of interest, which appears in only one known version of the written
conditions of peace, may probably have been inserted in them at the same time: “Item,
Dominus Ludovicus reddat Domino Regi rotulos de Scaccario, cartas Judaeorum, et cartas
factas de libertatibus tempore Regis Johannis a P. Rumougrend (sic), et omnia alia scripta
de scaccario quod (sic) habet, bona fide.” (Martène and Durand, Thesaurus Novus
Anecdotorum, 1717, vol. i. p. 858). I have no idea what can be the meaning of the words “a
P. Rumougrend,” unless they have, in process of transcription, been somehow evolved out
of “in p[rato] Runimead.”

[316] R. Wend., vol. iv. pp. 31, 32.

[317] Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 7; Hist. Ducs, l.c.

[318] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 95. On this date, and the whole series of dates connected with
the treaty, see Note V.

[319] Hist. Ducs, l.c.

[320] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17704–10.

[321] See above, p. 47.

[322] Hist. Ducs, p. 205.

[323] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 91.

[324] Chron. Merton, Petit-Dutaillis, p. 515.

[325] Cf. ib., R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 32, Hist. Ducs, p. 205, and Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17717–
20.

[326] Rob. Autiss. Contin. II., Pertz, Rer. Germ. Scriptt., vol. xxvi. p. 282.

CHAPTER II
THE REGENCY OF WILLIAM THE MARSHAL
1216–1219

He was a verray perfight gentil knight.

The coronation of Henry III had brought England face to 1216
face with a problem which was practically new in her
history: the problem of a royal minority. In the days before the Norman
Conquest, indeed, three English kings had been crowned before they
reached the age which for men of lower degree was counted as that of legal
majority; and the last of these three, Æthelred the Redeless, had come to his
throne at almost the same age as Henry. But these cases were all too remote
to furnish precedents for the guidance of the statesmen into whose hands
the task of carrying on the government of England was thrown by the death
of John. They could not even furnish a precedent for the choice of a regent;
and the choice actually made was the result of circumstances which may
without exaggeration be called unique. None of the known rules of English
law concerning wardship were altogether applicable to the case of the
Crown. As the law of England then stood, the wardship of a free tenement
held by other than military tenure, and of its infant heir, belonged to the
infant’s next-of-kin who was not capable of inheriting the tenement; the
wardship of an infant tenant in chivalry, and of his land, belonged to his
overlord. If the analogy of the former case were to be followed, the regency
would have fallen to the King’s mother, Isabel of Angoulême. Not only,
however, was the task, in the circumstances then existing, far too weighty to
be laid upon a woman and a foreigner, but it was obviously impossible to
treat the crown and realm of England as a mere ordinary socage tenement.
Wardship in chivalry, on the other hand, would until little more than three
years before Henry’s accession have supplied no analogy at all; for the King

and kingdom of England had no overlord upon earth before John’s homage
to the Pope in May, 1213. By virtue of that homage England became a fief
of the Roman see, and consequently on John’s death the wardship of his
youthful heir and his distracted realm vested legally in Pope Honorius III. It
might therefore have been expected that the regency would be at once
assumed by the Pope’s representative in England, the Legate Gualo. But
Gualo was an Italian who had been scarcely fifteen months in the land, and
he was a priest. The needs of the time imperatively demanded that the
acting head of the state, whose first task must be to drive out an alien
invader and bring back rebels to allegiance, should be an Englishman and a
warrior; and Gualo’s conduct showed that neither he nor Honorius ever
contemplated any other arrangement. In all the transactions connected with
the crowning of the new King and the organization of the new government
the Legate seems to have purposely kept himself as much as possible in the
background, guarding the rights of the Pope and the interests of the Pope’s
ward not by direct intervention but rather by his mere presence, and putting
forth his official powers only when their exercise was required to confirm,
by the Papal sanction given through him, the measures agreed upon by the
great men of the land, on whom the actual responsibility of appointing a
regent thus devolved. If in undertaking that responsibility they were guided
by any precedent or analogy at all, it must have been one drawn from a land
far remote from England, but probably better known to many Englishmen
in the days of Richard Cœur-de-Lion’s nephew than most of the countries
nearer home; a land, too, which for fifty years in the preceding century had
been ruled by kings of the same blood as Richard and Henry themselves.
The “Assizes of Jerusalem” in which the jurisconsults of Cyprus, towards
the end of the thirteenth century, embodied the traditions of law and custom
said to be derived from a code originally compiled by the first King of the
Latins in Jerusalem, Godfrey of Bouillon, and modified by his successors
down to Saladin’s capture of the Holy City in 1187, contain an ordinance
about minor heirs which runs thus: “If he” (the minor) “is a lord of land”—
that is, a sovereign or suzerain lord—“his body and his fortresses ought to
be guarded as shall be agreed by the community of his men.”[327] This
provision had been acted upon in the case of King Baldwin III, on whose
accession, at the age of thirteen, the princes and barons of the realm claimed
and exercised the right to elect a regent.[328] What the magnates of Palestine
thus did in 1174 the magnates of England did as freely in 1216. Not only

did Gualo make no claim to the regency for himself, but he did not even
attempt to dictate their choice. If indeed that choice was influenced by any
one outside their own circle, that one was the late King. John’s
commendation, however, could scarcely have been needed to point out the
man for the office.
Yet that man was one who had not only passed the age of three score
years and ten,[329] but had passed it without ever having held any office, in
court, camp, or administration, of sufficient importance to give scope for
the display of any special capacities for generalship or government, or for
the acquisition of special knowledge and experience in the conduct of
politics or of war. Neither by birth nor by origin was William the Marshal a
magnate of the highest rank. The founder of the Marshal family, one
Gilbert, who seems to have been either a cadet or a connexion by marriage
of the Norman house of Tancarville, was marshal to Henry I; that office
became hereditary in his family, and furnished a surname to all his race.
The office of the King’s Marshal was in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries
a grand serjeanty and nothing more; the military duties and responsibilities
originally involved in it had long since passed into other hands, and the
material advantages attached to it seem to have been of small extent and
importance; it gave to its holder little more than a position of honour and
dignity in the royal household, the right of carrying the sword of state on
certain public occasions, and, possibly, a sort of inchoate right to the
custody of the royal castle of Marlborough. William was a younger son; at
the age of twelve years or thereabouts he was sent, with a c. 1155
companion and a serving-lad, to seek his fortune abroad,
in the household of his father’s cousin William of Tancarville, the
chamberlain of Normandy. There he shewed so little promise of distinction
that the other young squires declared “William Waste-meat”[330] to be good
for nothing but eating, drinking, and sleeping. The chamberlain, however,
had a better opinion of his young kinsman. He knighted him at a moment
when Henry II and Louis VII were at strife and some partisans of Louis
were threatening the Norman Vexin: and Sir William in his first fight—in
defence of the castle of Drincourt—proved himself well worthy of his
spurs.[331] But immediately afterwards the two Kings made peace; and it
was not in war, but in the tournaments which on the Continent (they were as
yet unknown in England) furnished at once a school of arms and a means of

subsistence for the younger members of the baronial houses in time of
peace, that William first made himself a name.[332]
By 1170 William had acquired such a reputation that he was chosen by
Henry II not only to be a member of the household of the “young King”—
Henry’s eldest son—but was specially appointed to watch over and direct
the lad’s military training.[333] Three years later young 1173
Henry himself, when offered knighthood at the hands of
some of the noblest and most illustrious among the chivalry of France,
declared that he would receive it only from “the best knight that ever was or
will be,” and handed his sword to William the Marshal.[334] After nearly
twelve years of close companionship slanderous tongues 1182
parted William from the young King, shortly before the
latter’s final revolt against his father.[335] The slander was, however,
detected and William was recalled[336] in time to watch over his young
lord’s death-bed and receive his dying charge to fulfil in 1183
his stead a vow which he had made of pilgrimage to the
Holy Land.[337] On William’s return to Europe, early in 1187, Henry II took
him into his own service as a knight of his household;[338] and thenceforth
till the hour of Henry’s death he was the King’s best counsellor and closest
friend.[339]
The first act of Henry’s successor was to confirm a 1189
grant which Henry had promised to William, of the hand
of the greatest heiress in his realm, Isabel de Clare.[340] Her heritage
included the English earldom of Pembroke or Striguil, the Norman barony
of Longueville, and a fief in Ireland comprising nearly the whole of the
ancient kingdom of Leinster. William’s marriage suddenly raised him from
the position of a portionless younger son, “without a furrow of land, and
with no fortune but his knighthood,” to that of a magnate of high rank, great
wealth, and considerable territorial importance, and thus gave him, as a
matter of course, a permanent and definite place in the royal council; but he
showed no disposition to take a prominent part in politics. As one of the
subordinate justiciars appointed by Richard to assist in the government of
the realm during the King’s absence on Crusade, he at first supported John
against William of Longchamp, and afterwards, when John’s treason was
made manifest, supported the new justiciar, Walter of Coutances, against

John. After Richard’s return William was almost constantly with him in
Normandy, taking his full share in the warfare with Philip Augustus which
occupied the last five years of Richard’s life; but his share was that of a
devoted follower and a brave knight, not of a great noble holding an
independent command. It was only at Cœur-de-Lion’s death that William
the Marshal came to the front of affairs. The dying King 1199
had appointed him constable of the castle of Rouen,
which contained the ducal treasure; it was he who won for Richard’s chosen
successor, John, the support of the Norman primate, and thus largely
contributed to secure for John acceptance in Normandy as duke.[341] The
FitzGilbert patrimony had come to him in 1194, on the death of his elder
brother.[342] The earldom of Pembroke or Striguil, which he had held by
courtesy since his marriage with the young countess, was granted to him by
formal investiture on John’s coronation day;[343] a few months later the
office of Marshal was conferred by royal charter on him and his heirs for
ever.[344] Throughout the greater part of John’s reign he 1200–1216
was sheriff of Sussex and Gloucestershire, and he was
also an assistant justice and baron of the Exchequer. For some years after
John’s accession he seems to have been in almost constant attendance on
the King; during the Interdict he resided chiefly on his Irish lands. From
1213 onwards he was again John’s constant companion and his most trusted
counsellor; and in that capacity his name stands in the preamble of the
Great Charter first among the lay magnates in the list of the persons by
whose advice the Charter was granted. Throughout the troubles of the
succeeding year he adhered quietly but steadily to the King, whose dying
testimony has been quoted already—“He has always served me loyally; in
his loyalty, above that of any other man, I put my trust.”
Fifteen years earlier, Richard Cœur-de-Lion had repelled in similar words
a charge of treason insinuated against the Marshal: “God’s Feet! I have
always held him for the most loyal knight in all my realm. I do not believe
he has ever been false.”[345] Three years later, when the death of the aged
regent of England was announced at the court of France, the flower of the
French chivalry vied with each other in extolling the knightly virtues of
their dead enemy, and Philip Augustus spoke the crowning word of praise:
“You have well said—but what I say is that he was the most loyal man I
ever knew in any place where I have been.”[346] In the epithet unanimously

chosen by three men so unlike each other as Richard, John, and Philip, to
sum up their opinion of William the Marshal, lies the key to his whole
career, and to the peculiar place which he held in the estimation of his
contemporaries. What they admired and reverenced in him was not genius
but character; the character, as a modern French critic has truly said, of the
typical knight without fear and without reproach. One of William’s friends,
Aimeric de Ste.-Maure, the Master of the Temple, expressed the general
verdict in another way; when he and William were both on their death-beds,
he said: “Bury me beside William the Marshal, the Good Knight, who has
won that surname by his probity on earth and will carry it with him to
Heaven.”[347] To be thus known as pre-eminently “The Good Knight” was
to have won the highest title of honour that the medieval world could
bestow. The “probity,” or “prowess,” which constituted the essence of the
ideal knightly character, was a complex quality, hardly to be expressed by
any single word of modern speech; it included valour and skill in arms; and
it also included, above all else, what the men of the Middle Ages called
“loyalty.” Primarily, to them, loyalty meant the faithful discharge of the
obligations legally involved in the relation between vassal and lord;
obligations, indeed, often disregarded and violated in practice, but
theoretically acknowledged as sacred no less in the days of John Lackland
and Philip Augustus than in the days when they inspired one of the noblest
outbursts of feeling in the noblest epic of ancient France.[348] This principle
of “loyalty” in the medieval sense was the rule by which the Marshal
walked, with a rare steadfastness and consistency, throughout his life. The
very passages in his career which seem at first glance most difficult to
reconcile with modern ideas on the subject are in reality illustrations of the
simple and literal way in which he followed his rule, and were thoroughly
understood as such by the sovereigns against whom they brought him
temporarily into opposition.[349] He never concerned himself with abstract
politics; in any given circumstances, his sole concern was to do his own
duty to his own lord, whoever that lord might be. He knew neither doubt
nor fear. He was, indeed, constitutionally fearless; personal danger of any
kind was a thing of which he seems to have remained through life almost as
unconscious as when in early childhood, a hostage in the power of Stephen
and condemned to be hurled like a stone from a mangonel into the castle
which his father was defending for the Empress Maud, he had disarmed the
King’s wrath by running up to the deadly engine and begging for a “swing”

in it. But his courage never degenerated into rashness; he was never eager
to fight (except in a tournament) merely for fighting’s sake, nor willing to
countenance violent measures unless they were imperatively called for by
necessity or honour. His temper was cool and practical. He was no pioneer
of reform or of revolution; he accepted without question the ordinary
standards of public opinion in his day.[350] His ideal was strictly the ideal of
his own time; an ideal, therefore, which all his contemporaries could
understand and appreciate, and which they could see to be fulfilled in his
person more completely than in that of any other man then living, at any
rate in England. As he was true and just in the fulfilment of his duty as a
vassal, so he was true and just in all his dealing. When he was but a landless
knight, living by the ransoms of the prisoners and the sale of the horses
captured by him in tournaments, men already knew that his word was his
bond. His lord the “young King,” Henry II’s son, habitually “spent so much
in every place where he went, that when the hour of departure came, he
knew not how to get away” from his creditors. “Counts, barons,
vavassours” vainly offered to stand surety for the payment of his debts; the
shrewd tradesmen would accept no such security; but when the Marshal
pledged his word that the accounts should be settled within a month, they
exclaimed, “If the Marshal warrant us, we are as good as paid.”[351] Even so
Louis of France, when from the treasury of England, exhausted by years of
confusion and war, an indemnity was promised him for his losses and
expenses in the invasion, suffered this important item in the terms of peace
to be left without mention in the written treaty, and trusted for its fulfilment
solely to the regent’s plighted word. Jealousy, suspicion, party-spirit, could
find no occasion against a character so simple, so unpretending, so honest
and straightforward as that of William the Marshal. Thrice in his long life—
once by some dastardly comrades who envied the esteem in which he was
held by the two Henrys, twice by King John—an attempt was made to cast
aspersions on his honour. Each time he met the calumny in the same way;
he offered to disprove it by ordeal of battle. Each time his challenge, uttered
in the King’s presence and in the midst of the court, was answered by a
general silence more significant than words. No man dared encounter
William the Marshal in the ordeal, because every man believed it
impossible for the “judgement of God” to go against the Good Knight who
was without fear because his conscience was without reproach.

In point of fact, the Legate and the magnates at Gloucester in October,
1216, had set up what we now call a regency; but the idea 1216
which that word conveys to us was to them so entirely
new and strange that they seem to have been at first unable to find a name
for it. Immediately after the coronation Earl William the Marshal began to
exercise the functions of a regent, and among them that of issuing letters
patent and close in the King’s name. In these letters he, at first, sometimes
styles himself simply “William Marshal Earl of Pembroke”; but on six
occasions he calls himself “Justiciar.”[352] His assumption of this title is
puzzling in more ways than one. The chief justiciarship of England was not
vacant; it had been given by John in 1215 to Hubert de Burgh, whose
fidelity to John and to his heir is as unquestionable as that of the Marshal
himself, and was being demonstrated by his defence of Dover against Louis
at the very time of the Marshal’s appointment to the regency. In the
thirteenth century an office granted, as was that of the Justiciar, by letters
patent,[353] to be held during the King’s pleasure, was not vacated by the
King’s death, but belonged of right to the grantee until he was superseded
by means of a new appointment.[354] Twenty years later Hubert himself
declared that he had been Justiciar “without contradiction” ever since his
appointment by John;[355] it is clear, therefore, that the Marshal’s
assumption of the title was not regarded by Hubert as implying any design
of ousting him from his office. There was indeed one precedent, dating
from the time of Richard, for the appointment of two chief Justiciars at
once. But Earl William’s position was from the outset not that of a Justiciar
at all. The Justiciar was the King’s second in command—the foremost
minister of the Crown when the sovereign was present, his lieutenant and
vicegerent when he was absent from the realm; in either case, his delegate
and nothing more. Earl William was not the King’s delegate; he had not
been appointed by the King and was not removable at the King’s pleasure;
he had been called by the Legate and the magnates to govern the realm
during the King’s minority, as guardian of the King himself. He was, in
modern phraseology, not Viceroy but Regent. Still, there was just sufficient
analogy between his functions and those which, under certain
circumstances, appertained to the Justiciar, to suggest his adoption of that
title, in a tentative sort of way, until a better one could be devised.[356] In a
word, as his office was a novelty and an experiment, so its earliest

appellation seems to have been a makeshift. Before the end of November,
1216, that appellation was replaced by a loftier and more comprehensive
one—“Governor of the king and of the kingdom.”[357] No attempt seems to
have been made at any further definition either of the limits of his powers,
or of his relation to the royal Council; there was in fact no means of
defining either, nor any authority capable of so doing. In one sense he was
above the council; but in another sense he was merely its most important
member; its other members acted in subordination to him, but he was not
independent of them; they were the King’s councillors, not his; nay, more—
it was from them that he had received his authority, and he was thus in
some sense responsible to them for his exercise of it. He was also, and
above all, in theory at least, responsible to the Legate and, through the
Legate, to the Pope.[358] It is thus impossible to determine precisely how
much of the credit of the policy which freed England from her invaders and
restored peace and order to the distracted country and the ruined
administration is due to the Marshal himself, and how much to his
colleagues, Gualo, Hubert, Peter des Roches, and the other ministers of the
late King. A large share of credit must in any case belong to them for a
steady, faithful, and intelligent co-operation without which the Marshal
obviously could not have carried on either war or government at all. But it
is certain that for two years and a half after the coronation no act was done
in the King’s name without the Marshal’s consent; for, except on a very few
special occasions, all the royal letters during that period were attested by
him and sealed with his seal.[359] It may therefore fairly be said that
whatsoever they did in England, he was the doer of it.
One thing there was which, it was clearly understood 1216–1217
from the outset, could not be done at all during the
King’s minority. No grant in perpetuity made by, or in the name of, a person
under age was valid by English law. The application of this rule to the case
of an infant King seems not to have been expressed till more than two years
after Henry’s coronation, but it was effectually secured during that time by
an expedient whose simplicity and practicality are eminently characteristic
of the Marshal. A grant in perpetuity on the part of the Crown was invalid
unless sealed with the King’s seal. No great seal was made for Henry till
two years after he was crowned; the seal of the regent served in its stead.
[360]
On several occasions during the first year of the regency grants were

made in the King’s name to hold good “till the fourteenth completed year of
our age.”[361] There was as yet no fixed rule for the 1216–1217
determination of a King’s majority; but the reigning King
of France, Philip Augustus, had been crowned as his father’s colleague
shortly after his fourteenth birthday, and had exercised the functions of
royalty from that time forth. This was the origin of the rule which fixed the
coming of age of later Kings of France at fourteen years; and Henry’s
guardians seem at first to have contemplated taking Philip’s case as a
precedent for that of their own boy-sovereign.[362] There was no English
precedent to guide them. Nine years later it was asserted that one castellan
—Peter de Maulay—had bound himself by an oath to John not to give back
the castles of which he had charge till Henry should be of legal age.[363] It is
possible that John may have demanded and received such an oath from
more than one of the wardens of the royal castles; but evidently neither
they, the Marshal, nor any of the council knew what was John’s idea—if he
even had one—of what should constitute legal age in the case of his
successor; the definition tentatively suggested at the beginning of the reign
was clearly not based upon any direction left by him. At the close of 1217 it
was abandoned, and its place was taken by a vaguer formula—“till our
coming of age.”[364] The question of when that was to be could not become
urgent for three years at least; it was therefore wisely put aside for solution
at a more convenient season.
Some indications seem to point to another possible 1215–1216
restriction on the powers of the king’s guardians, in the
shape of a theory that their “pleasure” was not legally equivalent to “the
King’s pleasure”; in other words, that appointments made by the late King
were not revocable (except for some special reason) during the minority of
his successor. There is however no evidence that this theory was ever put
into explicit words or formally recognized;[365] and nothing of the kind is
needed to account for the fact that the great majority of the Crown officers
appointed by John were left undisturbed by the Earl Marshal in their several
bailiwicks.[366] Thirteen counties were at John’s death under sheriffs of
foreign birth. Falkes de Bréauté was sheriff of Northamptonshire, Rutland,
Cambridgeshire, Huntingdonshire, Bedfordshire, Buckinghamshire, and
Oxfordshire; Peter de Maulay of Dorset and Somerset; Savaric de Mauléon
of Hampshire; Philip Marc of Derbyshire and Nottinghamshire; Engelard de

Cigogné (or d’Athée) of Surrey. The two last named were members of a
family on which “the Barons” of 1215 had conferred a signal mark of
distinction, by making it the subject of a separate article (the fiftieth) in the
Great Charter, whereby John was pledged “to remove altogether from their
bailiwicks the relations of Gerard of Athée,” several of whom, among them
Engelard of Cigogné and Philip Marc, are mentioned by name, “and all
their following, so that they may never more hold any bailiwick in
England.” The reason for this remarkable enactment was, so far as can be
made out from existing evidence, simply this: that when, after a struggle in
which Gerard of Athée fought gallantly for his country and his Count,[367]
the old Angevin lands were conquered by Philip Augustus, these kinsmen—
sprung from a group of little villages between Tours and Loches—instead
of settling down under the new ruler of Touraine, crossed the sea to seek
employment in the service of their natural-born sovereign and make homes
for themselves in his island realm; that he entrusted them with offices of
considerable importance as well as (in some cases at least) of considerable
pecuniary value, and especially with the command of some of the chief
royal castles;[368] that they fulfilled the duties thus entrusted to them with
fidelity and efficiency, and that they had under their control a numerous
following of dependents who had accompanied or rejoined them from
beyond the sea, and who were, like them, faithful soldiers and servants of
the King. We need seek no further for the grounds on which the “Barons of
the Charter” desired to get rid of Gerard d’Athée and his kindred;[369] nor
for the grounds on which the fiftieth article of the Great Charter was
omitted in the revised version issued by Gualo and the Marshal in Henry’s
name. The only puzzle in the matter is why the baronial party should have
singled out the members of this particular family by name[370] to be made
victims of their jealousy and fear, and not included the other “alien” officers
in the same condemnation (or commendation); for two at least of those
others were men who by origin, class, and character differed little from
Gerard of Athée and his kinsmen. The third, indeed—Savaric de Mauléon—
was a noble by birth, the head of an illustrious family of baronial rank in
Poitou, and a man of personal distinction in other pursuits besides that of
arms; it is needless to say more of him at present, for, as he returned to his
native land shortly after the council at Bristol, the military and
administrative offices held by him in England were of necessity transferred
to other hands. But Falkes de Bréauté and Peter de Maulay were simply

soldiers of fortune from the continental dominions of the house of Anjou.
[371]
Together with the sheriffdom of Dorset, Peter de Maulay had been
entrusted by the late king with the castle of Corfe, and in it not only the
royal treasury and some important State prisoners, but also the child
Richard who was, after Henry, the next and indeed the only male heir to the
Crown. Since John had deemed Peter a fit person to have such a charge as
this, the darkest hour of the struggle with the enemies of John’s heir was
obviously not the time for removing him from his post. As to Falkes—
called by Matthew Paris “the rod of the Lord’s fury”—he was a man after
John’s own heart, as ruthless and reckless as John himself; but his
fierceness was equalled by his daring valour, his consummate skill in
military affairs, and his zeal in the royal cause. A glance at the map of
England is enough to shew why John had chosen such a man as this to have
charge of the particular group of counties and castles which he placed under
the command of Falkes; and the story of the war is enough to justify the
wisdom of his choice.[372]
The treaty of Kingston was no sooner concluded than 1217
both parties set to work conscientiously to carry its
provisions into effect. “Reverted perverts” came crowding in to the King’s
allegiance, and as fast as they came their lands were ordered to be restored
to them.[373] On 23rd September Louis and Henry joined in summoning
Alexander of Scotland to make restitution of the English lands which he
had seized during the war.[374] Orders were promptly issued for the delivery
of prisoners and the payment of ransoms and other moneys due according
to the terms of the treaty.[375] Only two classes of men suffered any real
punishment for their share in the war. The one class consisted of men of
Norman birth who held or claimed lands in England, and who had taken the
side of Louis; concerning these the sheriffs were warned that “no seisin is
adjudged to them, till the English shall have recovered their lands in
Normandy.”[376] The other class was that of the clergy who had disobeyed
the bishops and the Pope by supporting Louis; and their punishment came
solely from the Legate. On 27th October he went to London[377] and there
meted out condign punishment to the clergy who had set his
excommunication at naught. He “went to the church of S. Paul, and caused
all the altars and all the chalices to be broken up, and all the vestments to be
burnt, and new ones to be put in their place; and he put in new canons; and

the old ones who had chanted the service in defiance of him he deprived of
all their benefices; and he made the beneficed clergy of the town exchange
their parishes for upland ones.”[378] “Some of the clergy he degraded; some
he sent, still excommunicate, to the threshold of the Apostles.”[379] Thirteen
clerks “who used threatening language to him and his” he put in ward at
Westminster.[380] What ultimately became of them we are not told; but on
18th February next year all clerks under sentence of 1218
excommunication for adherence to Louis were, in the
king’s name, bidden to leave England before Mid-Lent (22nd March), and
warned that if found there after that date, they would be kept in ward “till
the king should give further orders concerning them.”[381]
On Sunday, 29th October, 1217—a year and a day 1217
after his coronation—the young King entered his capital.
[382]
“He was received with glory, and fealty and homage were done to
him,” no doubt by the citizens and by many other “reverted perverts.”
During the ensuing week “many discussions were held by the King’s
guardians and the leading men of the kingdom concerning the ordering of
the realm, the establishment of peace, and the abolition of evil
customs.”[383] The outcome of these deliberations was a new issue of the
Charter,[384] or what seems to have been meant to be regarded as the issue
of a new Charter; for the preamble (which, except for the names, is a copy
of the preamble of Magna Charta) ignores all earlier documents. As a matter
of fact, however, this Charter is a revised edition of the Charter of 1216,
from which it differs only in the following particulars: In the article
concerning widows, the amount of legal dowry is, for the first time,
defined: it is fixed at a third part of all the husband’s lands, “unless she have
been dowered with a less amount at the church door.”[385] The article
relating to the judicial eyres and the three recognitions is modified.
Recognitions of mort d’ancester and novel disseisin are to be taken in the
several shires before justices who are to be sent thither once (instead of four
times) a year, and who are to hold the assizes “with the knights of the
shires”[386]—not, it seems, as in 1215 and 1216, with four knights specially
elected for the purpose; if these assizes cannot be completed on the day
fixed, the cases are to be dealt with, not as in 1215 and 1216 by a sufficient
number of knights and freeholders who are to remain on the spot for that
intent, but by the judges “elsewhere on their eyre,” or if the cases are too

difficult they are to be referred to and settled by the judges of the Bench;
[387]
and the assizes of darrein presentment are to be always held and settled
by these last-named judges.[388] In the article regulating the imposition of
amercements the king’s villeins are excepted from the safeguard given to
the villeins of other lords.[389] The article concerning the requisition of corn
or cattle is modified by the extension of the limit of time for payment from
twenty-one days to forty.[390] On the other hand, carts belonging to an
ecclesiastical person, a knight, or a lady, are henceforth not to be
requisitioned at all.[391] The unsupported accusation of a Crown bailiff is
henceforth to be insufficient not only for sending a man to the ordeal, but
also for compelling him to make compurgation.[392] The King’s promise to
take no unfair advantage of his possession of escheats is made still more
definite.[393] Of the six matters spoken of in John’s Charter which were
expressly mentioned in clause 42 of the Charter of 1216 as being postponed
for future consideration—the assessment of scutages and aids, the rights of
Jewish and other creditors against the heirs of deceased debtors, liberty of
ingress into and egress from the realm, the regulation of forests and
warrens, the customs of the shires, and the river-enclosures and their
keepers—the fourth was left to be dealt with in a separate Charter of the
Forest; to three others as many new articles were devoted. No river-
enclosures are henceforth to be kept up save those which were in existence
in the time of Henry II.[394] Respecting the “customs of the shires,” the
provision in the twenty-fifth chapter of Magna Charta (to which the words
on that subject in the closing paragraph of Henry’s first Charter must refer),
that all shires and other local jurisdictions except those on the royal
domains shall be at their “old ferm” without increment, is not renewed; but
in its stead there is a clause regulating the holding of the county courts and
the sheriff’s tourn. The shire court is to be held not oftener than once a
month, and at longer intervals where such have been customary. No sheriff
or his bailiff is to make his tourn in the hundred except twice a year—after
Easter and after Michaelmas—and only in the proper and accustomed place.
View of frankpledge is to be made at Michaelmas term, in such a manner
“that every man shall have the liberties which he used to have in the time of
our grandfather King Henry, or which he has since acquired, and so that our
peace shall be kept, and the tithing shall be complete as it was wont to be;
and the sheriff is to seek no occasions, and is to be content with what the

sheriff used to have for holding his view in King Henry’s time.”[395]
Concerning the once crucial question which had furnished the original
pretext for the rising of the barons against John, the guardians could now
venture to reassert the rights of the Crown; and they did so, but in terms
carefully chosen so as to avoid all reference to the late troubles: “Scutage
shall be taken henceforth as it used to be taken in the time of our
grandfather King Henry.”[396] Two other new articles were added, whose
connexion with the scutage clause is not difficult to see. The one enacted
that henceforth no free man should either give away or sell so much of his
land as that the residue should be insufficient to furnish the service due to
the lord of the fief;[397] the other forbade that any man should give his land
to a religious house for the purpose of receiving it back again to hold of that
house, and enacted that if any man were convicted of so doing, his donation
should be void, and his land forfeited to the lord.[398] The other omissions
were disposed of, for the moment, by a general saving clause: “Reserving to
the archbishops, bishops, abbots, priors, Templars, Hospitallers, earls,
barons, and all other persons both ecclesiastical and secular, the liberties
and free customs which they had before.”[399] Lastly, it was ordained also
“by common consent of the whole realm” that all adulterine castles, that is,
castles which had been built or rebuilt since the beginning of the war
between the late King and his barons, should be immediately destroyed.[400]
This Charter has no date. It was, doubtless issued in the early days of
November; probably on the 6th, for on that day there was issued a Charter
of the Forest which dealt amply with the grievances connected with the
abuse of Forest law.[401]
The article concerning scutage was inserted in the Charter for an
immediate and important purpose; it was the ratification of a tax which the
Council had imposed a few days before the Charters were issued. Of the
many problems with which the Marshal and his colleagues had to grapple
one of the most urgent and most difficult was that of finance. The confused
entries on the Pipe Rolls of John’s later years indicate that the financial
administration of the realm had been gradually drifting towards chaos from
1212 onwards; in 1215 chaos was reached, and the machinery of the
Exchequer came to a standstill. After Michaelmas, 1214, no session of the
Exchequer was held, no accounts were rendered by any of the sheriffs or
other bailiffs of the Crown, for more than three years. John had met the

expenses of the war partly by payments out of the treasury, partly by means
of writs addressed to various fiscal officers throughout the country,
directing them to make on his behalf certain payments out of the ferms for
which they were accountable at the Exchequer.[402] As, however, “no
one”—as a chronicler says—“would pay any money to the King” or his
representatives, and as a considerable part of the kingdom was in the
possession of the enemy, both of these resources must have been well-nigh
exhausted before the death of John, who was in fact reduced at last to sheer
plunder to provide for the maintenance of his troops. The Marshal at the
outset of his regency seems to have sought help towards providing the
sinews of war in the levy of a hidage, carucage, and “aid,” this last word
probably representing a tallage from the towns. Of the time and
circumstances of their imposition there is no record, but it is most probable
that the matter was decided in the council at Bristol immediately after the
coronation, in November, 1216.[403] Of course none of these taxes could be
collected in the districts which were under the control of Louis or his
partisans. In July, 1217, the Pope ordered the prelates to contribute an aid to
the King’s necessities.[404] Meanwhile wages, allowances, and other
payments were made by means of jewels from the royal treasury, and in
cloth of silk, samite, and baldaquin from the royal wardrobe.[405]
At the earliest possible moment an effort was made to revive the working
of the Exchequer. Its records were for some time previous to the end of the
war in the possession of Louis, and were restored only on the conclusion of
peace in the middle of September;[406] the session seems therefore to have
been appointed for Martinmas,[407] instead of Michaelmas which was the
customary date. Before Martinmas came, however, it was found, apparently,
that some of the sheriffs could not get their accounts ready by the appointed
day; and ultimately they seem to have been allowed to bring them up at
various times from November, 1217, till a fortnight after Easter, 1218.[408]
The accounts thus rendered were those for the first half of the seventeenth
(fiscal) year of King John, from Michaelmas, 1214, to Easter, 1215; in other
words, the last fiscal half-year completed before the outbreak of war
between the barons and the King.[409] For the second half of that year, and
for the whole of the two succeeding years up to Michaelmas, 1217, no
accounts were ever rendered or demanded; the first Pipe Roll of Henry III is
the roll of his second year, from Michaelmas, 1217, to Michaelmas, 1218,

and it contains no mention of arrears.[410] This arrangement was both
practical and equitable. The accounts for 1215–1217 must in many cases,
through no fault of the persons responsible for them, have been in a
confusion impossible to disentangle; some of the shires had been entirely in
the possession of the King’s enemies; to many of the sheriffs and other
Crown bailiffs the King must have been really more in debt than they were
to him. With a budget thus restricted and a treasury thus exhausted the
Marshal had to carry on the King’s government and pay the indemnity
which he had promised to Louis.
“Our faithful Earl William the Marshal has bound himself to the Lord
Louis on our behalf, under no small penalty, to the payment of ten thousand
marks, for the boon of peace between Louis and ourself”—such is the
official statement made, a year later, in a letter written in Henry’s name to
the Pope.[411] This amount was independent of the sums due to Louis,
according to the terms of the treaty, from towns and individuals who had
made agreement with him on condition of a financial aid or tribute which
they had not yet paid; the aggregate of these latter sums appears to have
been reckoned at something between five and seven thousand marks.[412]
On 23rd September letters patent were issued ordering that these debts
should be paid without delay to Louis’s Marshal, William de Beaumont.[413]
For the receipt of the indemnity Louis appointed as his attorneys two
merchants of S. Omer, Florence (or Florentinus) “the Rich” and his son
William. This appointment seems to have been made for the joint
convenience of Louis and Henry. Louis apparently wanted six thousand
marks sterling paid down, and received them from Florence and William,
who themselves supplied the amount on a promise made to them on 23rd
September in Henry’s name that half the sum thus advanced should be
repaid to them on All Saints’ day and the rest at Candlemas; a part of the
first instalment of repayment was to be made in fells and wool; if these
were not duly delivered Henry was to pay Florence and William an
additional sum of five hundred marks sterling “for the profit of that
merchandise.” If the whole debt to the two merchants were not paid at the
term appointed, Count Peter of Brittany and Robert of Arène were
authorized by the King, the Earl Marshal, and the royal Council to seize and
hold on behalf of Louis “any goods belonging to the King and his realm
that they could get, to the value of the amount due,” until it was paid.[414] A

letter from the Marshal in his own name to the King of France at once
illustrates the scrupulous honesty for which he had long been renowned,
and shews that he doubted the possibility of fulfilling these promises to
Florence. “If,” he writes, “our agreement with Florence be not kept, we
desire and grant that you assign all the land which we hold of you to
Florence and his son till the whole debt and interest due to them shall be
discharged, saving only our service to you for the said lands.”[415] His
doubts were justified; eleven months later the debt to Florence and William
still amounted to no less than two thousand one hundred and fifty marks.
[416]
To bring it down to this he had had to borrow more than five hundred
marks in the King’s name from various merchants of Ireland, Wales, and
England, and several hundred more from other individuals, and to lend nine
hundred marks out of his own purse;[417] and the financial straits of the
Crown are further illustrated by the fact that the total of wool required for
the first instalment of repayment to Florence had had to be made up by
seizing several sacks belonging to individual merchants at Northampton
fair, one of whom did not receive compensation till the end of November,
1218, while another had to wait for it till the middle of February, 1219.[418]
It seems to have been originally proposed that the whole indemnity should
be paid by S. Andrew’s day, 1217;[419] but this was manifestly
impracticable. The account with Louis was in fact not closed till 1219 at the
earliest, for the last five hundred marks needed to wipe out the debt were
lent to Henry by Gualo’s successor in the legation, Pandulf.[420]
The very first thing, therefore, to be laid before and sanctioned by the
Great Council of the realm when at the end of October, 1217, it was once
more gathered round the sovereign in his capital city, was a scheme of
taxation for the year. This consisted of a scutage of the ordinary amount—
two shillings on the knight’s fee—a tallage, a hidage, and a carucage. These
taxes were imposed, as had been the practice in the time of Henry II, in the
full council of the barons.[421] The formal imposition of the scutage must
have taken place on the very day of Henry’s entry into London, 29th
October, or at latest on the following morning. This tax was avowedly
destined for the payment of the indemnity.[422] It was obviously for
purposes connected with finance that an inquisition concerning the King’s
demesne lands had been ordered in September;[423] and on 9th November,
commissioners were despatched to assess the tallage on these demesnes,

and to make searching inquiries about escheats and about all lands “into
which there is no entry except through the sheriffs or bailiffs and without
due warrant,”[424] and to seize all such into the King’s hand.[425] At the
same time the King’s justiciars in Ireland were directed to lay a “tallage and
efficacious aid” upon the cities, towns, and royal demesnes in that country,
and to “beg of the Kings of Connaught and Thomond and the other kings in
Ireland, and of the barons and knights who held in chief of the King, such
an efficient aid that the King should evermore be thankful to them”; and
they were further exhorted to send the money thus collected to England
with all possible speed.[426]
The first judicial eyre of the new reign seems to have been held very
soon after the second issue of the Charter, and to have had for one of its
objects the administering of the oath of fealty to the King’s subjects in
general. To one district, at least, there went six justices itinerant before
whom the knights and other free men swore that they would keep the peace
of the Church, the King, and the realm, and would help and defend all
persons who were willing to keep it likewise; that they would obey all
“reasonable” commands of the King, and uphold the royal rights, and hold
the good laws and customs of the realm; that if any man should presume to
contravene the same, they would at the bidding of the King and his council
come together faithfully in force and amend the matter to the utmost of their
power; that “neither for hatred, nor favour, nor fear” would they fail to keep
their fealty; that they would do and receive justice according to the
reasonable customs and laws of England; that no previous or subsequent
oath should hinder their observance of all these things; and that “in all these
things they would support the Marshal.”[427]
The various dependencies of the English Crown had next to be secured.
Alexander of Scotland had taken advantage of the troubles in England to
seize the town and castle of Carlisle. As early as 23rd September, 1217, the
Marshal peremptorily demanded restitution of these and of the other lands
and the prisoners taken by Alexander during the war; and at the same time
he bade the prelates and magnates of the North, if Alexander did not
immediately comply with the demand, give the sheriff of Cumberland their
“efficient aid and counsel” in forcing him to do so.[428] Alexander seems to
have yielded at once. The Marshal had a hold over him; the English honour
of Huntingdon, which the Scot Kings had held since 1136 and which they

dearly prized, was in the hand of King Henry. On 6th November an escort
was ordered to meet Alexander at Berwick on S. Andrew’s day and bring
him “to speak with us and do to us what he ought to do.”[429] The meeting
seems to have taken place on 17th or 18th December at Northampton;[430]
on the 19th Alexander, having done his homage, received seisin of his
English lands,[431] and a safe-conduct till Candlemas Day for his journey
home.[432]
Far more troublesome and dangerous vassals than the Scot king were the
native princes of Wales. In ancient times Wales had been divided into three
kingdoms: Gwynedd, answering roughly to the modern counties of Flint,
part of Denbigh, Carnarvon, Anglesey, and the western part of Merioneth;
Powys, stretching from the mouth of the Dee to the river Wye, and
including, besides the southern part of what is now Denbighshire and the
eastern part of Merioneth, the present shires of Montgomery and Radnor;
and Deheubarth, which included, besides the remaining shires of the
modern South Wales, the district of Monmouth as far east as the Wye.
These three kingdoms had been separate and independent, although a sort
of overlordship or primacy seems to have been recognized as appertaining
to the Kings of Gwynedd. By the end of the twelfth century Gwynedd was
the only one of these three States which remained purely Welsh in
population and government. The whole of Deheubarth and the greater part
of Powys were dotted over with Norman castles, every one of which was
the capital of a lordship held by a baron of Norman or English race, owning
allegiance to no one save the English King.[433] Neither these “marcher
lords” nor their sovereign, however, had made any real progress towards
conquering the country or its people; they were, so to say, detachments of a
feudal host encamped here and there in a foreign land, and surrounded by a
native population which still maintained its own customs and laws and
recognized no authority except that of its own hereditary chieftains.
Between the two peoples there was a bitter racial and national feud; but the
relations between the Norman lords marchers and the Welsh princes varied
greatly. It was not for the interest of the former to quarrel unnecessarily
with their Welsh neighbours at any time; and when they themselves chanced
to be in rebellion against their own sovereign—as was the case with some
of them, notably with the great house of Breuse in south-eastern Wales, in
the latter years of John’s reign—they naturally found it convenient to make

alliance with the native rulers of the land. These, on the other hand, were
often at feud among themselves, and did not scruple to make use of the
marchers’ aid against one another when it suited them, though at other times
they were ready to make common cause against the common enemy.
At the opening of Henry’s reign the native element in 1216
Wales was very distinctly in the ascendent. The old
superiority, or primacy, of Gwynedd had once more become a living thing.
Llywelyn ap Iorwerth had been for more than twenty years extending his
power over the southern and eastern principalities. He 1194–1216
had in 1206 accepted the hand of John’s elder daughter
Joan—the child, seemingly, of John’s early dissolved marriage with Isabel
of Gloucester[434]—but throughout the civil war his sympathies were
openly and actively with John’s enemies. In 1215 he “and the Welsh princes
in general” attacked Caermarthen and destroyed the castle, and also took
and destroyed most of the other castles in South Wales.[435] On the other
hand, his chief rival, Gwenwynwyn, the prince of southern Powys, offered
his service to John; whereupon Llywelyn, with “most of the princes,”
marched into Powys and “took possession of Gwenwynwyn’s whole
territory to himself” in 1216.[436] At the close of 1215 the Bishop of
Hereford had died.[437] He was Giles de Breuse, the head of a family whose
patrimony—comprising Radnor, Brecon, and Abergavenny in Wales,
besides Totnes and Barnstaple in Devonshire and Bramber in Sussex—had
been forfeited to the Crown in 1210 under circumstances which made it
well-nigh impossible that confidence should ever be restored between the
house of Breuse and King John. Giles had indeed, only a few weeks before
his death, fined with the King for restitution of all the lands which had been
his father’s;[438] but his next brother, Reginald, on succeeding to his
hereditary claims, set himself to prosecute them by making common cause
with the King’s enemies in Wales. Llywelyn was now at the height of his
triumph, not only in Powys, but also in Deheubarth; in 1216, at Aberdovey,
in his presence and obviously under his dictation, South Wales was
portioned out between the four rival representatives of its sovereign house,
Maelgwn and Rhys “the Hoarse” and their nephews “Young Rhys” and
Owen.[439] These latter were cousins to Reginald de Breuse.[440] With
Llywelyn Reginald formed a closer connexion by taking one of his
daughters to wife.[441] In August, 1216, John visited the Welsh border and

sought to win the support of some of the princes, and also of Reginald de
Breuse, but it “did not avail him anything.”[442] Evidently they all saw in
John’s extremity, and after his death in his successor’s youth and
helplessness, their long-desired opportunity for revenge; and we can hardly
doubt that it was a combination of Welshmen and followers of Reginald de
Breuse who attacked Goodrich on the eve of Henry’s coronation. Gualo’s
interdict published a fortnight later shows how clearly it was understood
that Wales as a whole “held with the barons.”
Early in 1217 the Earl Marshal wrote in the young 1217
King’s name to Reginald de Breuse, urging him to return
to his allegiance and promising that if he did so, the whole of his patrimony
should be restored to him.[443] Reginald however continued obstinate till the
Royalist victory at Lincoln. Then he, like many others, seems to have
realized that the tide had turned, and that it was time for him to turn
likewise. Before Midsummer he had submitted, and he was soon reinstated
in the Irish and English possessions of his father.[444] His Welsh kinsfolk
promptly punished his desertion of their party; Rhys and Owen wrested
from him “the whole of Builth except the castles”; Llywelyn marched upon
Brecknock. Reginald however succeeded in patching up some kind of peace
with his father-in-law, who thereupon turned his arms against the Flemings
of Pembrokeshire, and compelled them all to promise Sept.
him tribute and submission.[445]
To Llywelyn, as to King Alexander, the treaty of 1217
Kingston was duly notified by Louis.[446] The new
Bishop of Hereford and the Bishop of Coventry were, it seems, empowered
by the Legate to receive the submission of all the Welsh princes and absolve
them from excommunication at Hereford on 18th November; when this was
done, Hugh de Mortimer[447] and some other barons were to escort them to
Northampton for a meeting with the King.[448] Henry and the Marshal were
at Northampton on 17th and 18th December;[449] but evidently the Welsh
princes did not come. It may have been to keep guard on the Welsh border
that the Marshal took his young sovereign to keep Christmas at Gloucester,
[450]
and lingered with him in the west of England throughout the first four
months of the new year. In February, 1218, a safe- 1218
conduct was issued to Llywelyn that he might come and

do homage to the King at Worcester.[451] No date is fixed in the letter, and
no record of the homage appears to exist; but there can be no doubt that it
was performed at the appointed place on or before 17th March, for on that
day, at Worcester, the castles of Cardigan and Caermarthen with the lands
appertaining to them were committed by the King and his council to his
“beloved brother-in-law Llywelyn, Prince of North Wales,” that he might
hold them till the King’s coming of age, maintaining them out of their own
revenues, and administering justice within their territories in the King’s
name.[452]
Two days before, a safe-conduct had been issued to all 1218
the magnates of both North and South Wales to come and
do homage at Worcester at the close of Easter (22nd April).[453] It does not
appear whether any of them came, except Llywelyn, who seems to have
come for a special purpose. Morgan, the lord of Caerleon-upon-Usk, had
taken no notice of repeated admonitions from Louis to observe the treaty of
Kingston, and had deliberately broken truce by slaying in one day no less
than ten Anglo-Normans of gentle birth, and also burning twenty-two
churches.[454] The Marshal had put an effectual stop to such proceedings on
Morgan’s part; he “fought against Caerleon and took it”[455]—that is,
according to his own biographer, his bailiff “called up his men and his
friends and besieged Caerleon, and it was taken.” At the “parliament” at
Worcester Llywelyn asked that Morgan should, like the other allies of
Louis, be formally reinstated in the right to hold his land “according to the
terms of the treaty,” that is, as he had held it before the war. The regent,
acting on the advice of “his council”—defined as “all those who were in
fealty to him”[456]—refused, on the ground of Morgan’s flagrant infraction
of the peace; and the “parliament” adjudged Caerleon and its appurtenances
to its conqueror.[457] The general homage of Welsh magnates seems to have
been postponed from the close of Easter to the morrow of Ascension day,
25th May.[458] On that or the following day, at Woodstock,[459] it at last took
place, so far at least as concerned Deheubarth; the Welsh chronicles
themselves tell us that “young Rhys went himself, and all the princes, by
the advice of Llywelyn, to the court of the king, from South Wales, to do
him homage.”[460]

The homage of King Ragnald “of the Isles”—that is, the Isle of Man and
the Orkneys—took longer to win, probably because he was geographically
more difficult to reach. On 16th January, 1218, he was summoned to come
over and do homage “and make amends for the excesses committed by his
men against King Henry’s men, both in England and in Ireland,” and a safe-
conduct was given him, to last till 30th April,[461] but he did not come; on
1st May another safe-conduct was issued to him, till 1st August,[462] again
with no result; and it was not till September, 1219, that he actually came.
[463]
Neither his personal contumacy nor the piratical “excesses” of his
seafaring subjects, however, constituted a real danger to the peace of the
realm.
In the Irish dominions of the English Crown the first 1217
trouble that arose under the new reign came neither from
the barons nor from the people, but from the Justiciar. Geoffrey de Marsh,
who had held that office in Ireland since 1215, no sooner heard of the death
of King John than he despatched to Henry, or to his 1216
guardians, letters in which he assured his young
sovereign of his fidelity, and asked for instructions how to act for the
furtherance of his interests in Ireland. He seems to have suggested that the
Queen-mother, or the heir-presumptive, little Richard, should be sent thither
to represent the Crown.[464] The Marshal sent him in reply a letter in the
King’s name, informing him of the coronation and the proceedings of the
council of Bristol, and requesting him to receive for Henry the homage of
the magnates and the King’s other subjects in Ireland; also promising to
send them in return a confirmation of the same liberties which had just been
granted to their fellow-subjects in England. The suggestion about the Queen
and Richard was politely waived with an assurance that it should be duly
considered. Geoffrey was warmly thanked for his past and present loyalty,
and entreated to redouble his efforts in behalf of a King whose tender years
made him the more in need of his liegemen’s counsel and aid.[465] On 6th
February, 1217, a copy of the Charter was sent to Ireland 1217
with a letter in the King’s name addressed to all the
King’s faithful subjects in Ireland, expressing his desire that as a reward for
their fidelity to his father and a motive for its continuance towards himself
they and their heirs for ever should, of his grace and gift, enjoy the same
liberties which his father and he had granted to the realm of England.[466]

The Marshal’s policy was to bind the English March in Ireland as closely as
possible to the Crown; he had already issued letters patent forbidding the
election of Irishmen to cathedral dignities within the King’s land in Ireland,
“because by such elections the peace of that land has frequently been
disturbed,” and commanding that when such dignities fell vacant, clerks of
the King and other “honest Englishmen useful to us” (the King) “and our
realm” should be elected and promoted thereto by the joint counsel of the
Archbishop of Dublin and the Justiciar.[467] The Archbishop of Dublin,
Henry of London, was at that time in England; but on 16th April,
“although,” writes the King to the barons in Ireland, “we feel his presence
here is most necessary to us and our realm, and we can hardly do without
his counsel,” he was sent to “visit and console” his diocese, and also
expressly to assist the Justiciar with his counsel and support in ordering and
amending the condition of the King’s Irish territory; while the Justiciar was
bidden to “acquiesce in all things” in the counsel of the Archbishop, and to
be guided by it in his expenditure of the money received at the Dublin
Exchequer, “forasmuch as the King wills that nothing be done without his
assent.”[468]
The position of the Justiciar of the Irish March at this time was very
much more independent than that of the Chief Justiciar of England. The
Justiciar in Ireland seems to have practically had the entire control of the
whole machinery of government, administration, and finance, throughout
the King’s Irish domains. The revenues due to the Crown, whether derived
from demesne lands, or from taxes, or tolls, or from the proceeds of
escheats, fines, wardships, reliefs, and the like, seem to have all passed
through his hands. The fixed revenue of the Crown lands was assigned to
him for the necessary expenses of government and for maintaining the
defence of the land and the garrisons of the royal castles, and in
remuneration of his own services; the residue he was supposed to pay into
the Exchequer in Dublin, for transmission to the King when required.
Moreover, it seems to have been he who appointed the wardens of the
King’s castles throughout the March.[469] Such a system offered facilities
for almost unlimited embezzlement on the part of a dishonest Justiciar, or
mismanagement and waste on the part of an incompetent one; while it left
to the English government scarcely any means of proving a charge of either
dishonesty or incompetence against an officer at once so remote and

invested with so much independent authority. It seems clear that the reports,
and the results, of Geoffrey’s financial administration which reached
England were not satisfactory to the regent, and that the Archbishop of
Dublin was really sent not so much to “assist” the Justiciar as to hold him in
check and keep a watch on his proceedings. Eight months later Geoffrey
had to be reprimanded[470] for not having yet executed a royal order issued
on Midsummer day for the restoration of Limerick to Reginald de
Breuse[471]; and on 12th February, 1218, a long letter of 1218
remonstrance was written to him in the King’s name. He
had been bidden to come over and do his homage, and certify the King as to
the state of the Crown’s Irish lands; the King is “greatly surprised” that he
has not yet come, and again bids him come without fail before Easter next,
and bring with him all the money that the King’s subjects and bailiffs in
Ireland can be induced to furnish, for the payment of the debt to Louis, and
of six hundred marks owed to the Pope, being two years’ arrears of the
tribute due to him from Ireland.[472] Whether Geoffrey sent any money does
not appear; he certainly did not come over in person; probably, however, he
made some excuse which gave the Marshal no grounds for questioning his
loyalty, for his homage was left in abeyance till after the Marshal’s death.
In England itself every effort was made by the 1218
government to carry out loyally the terms of the treaty of
Kingston and the provisions of the Charter. On 22nd February the two
Charters—the Charter of Liberties and that of the Forest—were sent
certainly to one, probably to all of the sheriffs, with instructions to publish
them in the shire-courts, and to make all the men of the shire swear to the
observance of them, as well as to take an oath of fealty to the King; especial
stress was laid on the execution of the last clause in the Charter of Liberties,
which enjoined the destruction of adulterine castles.[473] In July the chief
Justiciar of the Forest, John Marshal, the regent’s nephew, was despatched
on a Forest circuit to make arrangements for deafforestations to be carried
out according to the Forest Charter.[474] Such of the prisoners taken during
the war, and of their captors, as were dissatisfied with regard to questions of
ransom were by public proclamation, made through the sheriffs each in his
shire, invited or summoned to shew their complaints on 6th May before the
King’s council at Westminster, for the settlement of their respective claims
and the composing of their mutual differences.[475]

As a chronicler says, “it was difficult speedily to 1217
satisfy the desires of all men, and to allay in a moment
the rancour of so many dissidents”; and it was also, after the turmoil of the
last few years, difficult for men of the fighting classes to settle down to a
life of peace. Some of them “found an outlet for the relics of discord” in
tournaments.[476] The real war was no sooner ended than 1217
Englishmen became possessed by a rage for these
military exercises, which until the time of King Richard had never been
permitted in England, and were everywhere and always discountenanced by
the Church. Their revival at a moment when the embers of war were still
smouldering was obviously a matter of grave peril, requiring to be dealt
with promptly and firmly. It was a curious turn of fate that compelled the
Earl Marshal, who had spent his youth and acquired his knightly repute in
the lists of France and Flanders, to use his power for the suppression of this
mimic warfare in his native land; and the first letter patent in which a
tournament was forbidden by him—on 4th October, 1217, little more than a
week after the departure of Louis—reveals with characteristic simplicity his
reluctance to commit his young sovereign to a condemnation of
tournaments in general; “Know ye,” the King is made to say, “that we will
and ordain that this tournament be not held, for no other reason than this,
that we fear a disturbance of our realm; which may God avert.”[477] Ten
months later the young King’s uncle, Earl William of Salisbury, was
forbidden to hold a tournament for which he was making preparations at
Northampton, “till by God’s help and the counsel of our faithful men, and
of yourself” (Salisbury), “the state of peace in our realm shall be made
firmer and more secure.”[478] Similar prohibitions occur again and again;
[479]
but they were ineffectual, by 1220 the condemned practice had become
so general that, according to one monastic chronicler, “tourneyers, their
aiders and abettors, and those who carried merchandise or victuals to
tournaments were ordered to be all together excommunicated every
Sunday.”[480]
Other restless spirits seem to have found occupation in 1218
persecuting the Jews. In March, 1218, the Jews of
Gloucester, Lincoln, Oxford, and Bristol were placed under the special
charge of twenty-four citizens in each city, whose names were to be
enrolled, and who were to guard the Jews against molestation from any one,

“especially from Crusaders”;[481] and it was probably to facilitate the duties
of these guardians, by rendering the persons under their charge
distinguishable at a glance, that the Jews were all ordered to wear, when out
of doors, two white “tablets” of linen or parchment on the front of their
upper garment.[482] These ordinances were no doubt called forth by some
unrecorded outrages whose origin we may, from the words about
“Crusaders,” gather to have been closely connected with a matter which
was now beginning to engage more worthily the militant spirits of the time.
In November, 1215, a General Council assembled at Rome under Innocent
III had decreed a new Crusade, in response to an appeal for succour which
the King of the Latins in Holy Land, John de Brienne, had made three years
before. Some English barons and knights had taken the Cross, but they had
been too much occupied with the troubles in their own land to attempt the
fulfilment of their vow till the civil war was ended. Whenever and wherever
a Crusade was preached, the ruder and more ignorant among the votaries of
the Cross, in their impatience to attack its enemies, were too apt to begin
with those who were nearest at hand, and who were also most unpopular on
other grounds than religious ones—the Jews. It is, however, highly probable
that the general peace of the realm was the more easily preserved during the
next year or two because several of the leading barons of both parties in the
civil war now took themselves out of the country altogether, and went to
sink their differences, for a while at least, in the common cause of
Christendom against Islam. The first of the magnates who actually set out, it
seems, were two steady loyalists, the Earls of Chester and Ferrers, who with
Brian de Lisle, John de Lacy the constable of Chester, William de Harcourt,
“and many others,” started at the end of May or beginning of June 1218.
[483]
Within a few months the Earl of Arundel,[484] Baldwin de Vere,
Geoffrey de Lucy, Odonel the son of William d’Aubigny,[485] and the king’s
half-brother Oliver,[486] all took the Cross, and so did two of the leaders of
the other party—Robert FitzWalter and Saer de Quincy, Earl of Winchester.
[487]
Saer died in Holy Land,[488] and so did Baldwin de 1219
Vere; Robert FitzWalter came home in broken health,[489]
and seems thenceforth to have withdrawn from public life.
Still there remained men of both parties whom it was 1217
hard to bring or keep under control. Throughout Henry’s
minority his guardians found themselves at intervals in difficulties with

certain men who “presumed to keep in their hands, contrary to the King’s
prohibition and the will of the owners, castles and lands belonging to some
of the bishops and magnates”[490]—and, the chronicler might have added, to
the King himself. The earliest case of flagrant insubordination in this
respect was that of Robert de Gouy. In 1215 Bishop Hugh of Lincoln had
delivered to King John the castles belonging to his see, to be garrisoned for
and by the King during his struggle with the rebel barons. One of these
castles, Newark, was given in charge by John to Robert de Gouy, on
condition of an oath sworn by Robert that in case of John’s death he would
surrender the place to no one save the bishop.[491] Two months later John
died in that very castle. On 10th June, 1217, Robert was by letters patent
ordered to deliver Newark to its rightful owner.[492] It seems to have been
anticipated that he might plead his oath to John as binding him to surrender
the place only to the bishop in person; Henry de Coleville, a knight holding
land under the see of Lincoln, was sent by the bishop to Newark, accredited
by letters under the bishop’s seal authorizing him to receive the castle in the
bishop’s stead, and also carrying letters from the Legate certifying that he,
Gualo, was responsible for the bishop’s detention in London on business of
state. Robert, however, refused to deliver Newark to Henry de Coleville,
partly, it seems, on the ground of his oath, partly on the plea that the Crown
owed him some money. On 23rd June the Council in the King’s name
promised that if this latter plea should prove to be just, Robert’s claims
should be satisfied, provided that he delivered Newark to Coleville without
further delay.[493] This second summons had to be followed up by a third,
on 23rd July, insisting that Robert should either at once obey, or come
before the King’s Court at Oxford on 5th August, to hear and do what the
Council should determine.[494] The Council’s decision appears to have
simply confirmed the mandate of 23rd June; on 13th August De Gouy is
told that he has made himself liable to a very severe sentence by his
contempt of the judgement of the King’s Court in still retaining Newark,
but, in consideration of his long service to the late King and the present one,
his claim shall be satisfied if he will without fail come and stand to the
judgement of the King’s Court concerning the castle on 31st August at
Oxford.[495] It was, however, not till 26th October that Robert made a
formal surrender of Newark into the hands of the King himself, for the
Bishop of Lincoln, and took an oath that within forty days he would clear

the place of himself and his men and deliver it bodily to the bishop in
person or to whomsoever the bishop should delegate for that purpose; and
also that in the meantime he would do no harm or damage to any of the
bishop’s men, lands, or goods. The constables of Lincoln and Nottingham
(the two nearest royal castles) were bidden to enforce full amends for any
infraction of this last promise;[496] a detail which seems to imply that
Robert was suspected of being actuated by personal ill-will towards the
bishop. Three months passed, and Newark was still 1218
occupied by Robert and his men. Then, on 27th January,
1218, the temporalities of the see of Lincoln were committed—having
apparently been placed in the King’s hand by the bishop specially to that
intent—to two laymen, and the constables of its castles, Banbury, Sleaford,
and Newark, were ordered to resign their respective charges to the new
custodians.[497] Again Robert de Gouy disobeyed the royal order; and on
14th March the sheriff of Nottingham (Philip Marc) was bidden to join the
Bishop of Lincoln in driving him out of Newark by force.[498] Either their
joint attempt failed, or the bishop shrank from this extreme measure; at last,
on 4th July, the Earl Marshal took upon himself to subdue the obstinate
rebel, and summoned thirty miners from Gloucestershire to meet him at
Stamford, where the royal forces were to muster for the siege of Newark.
[499]
He and the King left London on July 8th; on the 20th they reached
Newark, and next day they wrote to the mayor of Lincoln for materials
needed for the siege.[500] The Marshal apparently saw no occasion for
superintending its conduct in person; on the 23rd he and the King withdrew
to Leicester, and by the 26th they were in Oxfordshire.[501] Probably before
they left Newark their military demonstration had done its work in
frightening Robert sufficiently to make him offer terms, not indeed to the
government, but to the Bishop of Lincoln. Some friends of Robert’s made
overtures of peace to Hugh; Hugh agreed to pay Robert a hundred pounds
for the provisions in the castle, and Robert apparently evacuated it
forthwith.[502] On 27th July he made formal surrender of it into the hand of
the King in person, at Wallingford, and the King committed it to the custody
of the Bishop of Winchester, who was to do with it whatever the Legate
should direct.[503] No doubt it was restored to the Bishop of Lincoln. Robert
de Gouy was struck dead by lightning at S. Neot’s before the year was out.
[504]

As the second year of little Henry’s reign drew to a 1218
close, his guardians seem to have felt it time to make
arrangements for securing that the validity of acts done and orders issued in
his name should no longer be dependent on any individual, even though that
individual were the Governor of King and Kingdom or the Legate. It is
probable that a change in the legation was known to be impending,[505] and
also that the physical strength of the aged Marshal was beginning to give
way under the strain of his great labours and responsibilities, when the
making of a new royal seal was entrusted to a goldsmith named Walter “of
the Hithe.” The seal was of silver, of the weight of five marks.[506] It was
first used on 3rd or 4th November, 1218, to authenticate an ordinance
specially designed to guard against a possible misuse of it during the King’s
minority. Letters patent were issued warning all men that no grant in
perpetuity was to be sealed with it till the King’s coming of age, and that
any such grant found thus sealed should be null and void.[507] It was
probably on the same occasion that the Bishop of Winchester, the
Chancellor, the Justiciar, and “the King’s common council” made oath in
the Legate’s presence that they would “keep and hold the King in seisin of
all the lands which were in the hand of his father, King John, on the day
when war was first begun between him and his barons of England, and that
nothing should be done in the way of granting or alienating any land so that
it should be ceded to any man in perpetuity so long as the King was under
age.”[508] The letter patent concerning the use of the seal was attested by the
Legate, the Archbishops Stephen of Canterbury—who had returned from
Rome in May[509]—and Walter of York, the Justiciar, and a number of other
prelates and nobles.[510] Its attestation must have been almost the last of
Gualo’s public acts in England. His work there was done, and well done; he
wished to resign his office; and the Pope, who had other work for him
elsewhere, had accepted his resignation. In the last week of November he
set out on his homeward journey.[511] A few days later a new Legate came
to take his place.[512]
At Candlemas, 1219, the Marshal fell sick. The court 1219
was then in London; but he seems to have been absent
from it for a few days when he was taken ill, for his biographer says he
“rode to London in pain.”[513] There, with his wife, he lodged in the Tower
—still, despite increasing illness, attending to the duties of his office—till

the middle of March, when, feeling that the end was drawing near, he sent
for his son and his men and “spoke comfortable words to them, as he well
knew how.” By the advice of “several who loved him heartily,” he made his
will, deliberately and carefully. Then he asked his son and Henry
FitzGerold to carry him to his manor of Caversham, “for he thought he
could bear his sickness more easily in his own house, and if he were to die,
it were better that he should be at home than elsewhere.” They carried him
thither in a boat, his wife accompanying him in another boat.[514] The court
seems to have immediately removed from London to Reading, probably as
the most convenient place where the Council could all assemble within such
a distance of Caversham as enabled them to keep in constant
communication with him.[515] To the King and the Council at Reading he
sent a message, asking that they would all come to speak with him; and they
came. “Simply they sat around him” while he spoke to the King: “Fair
sweet sir, in presence of these barons I wish to tell you that when your
father died and you were crowned, it was arranged that you should be given
into my charge, and so you were, that I should defend your land, which is
not easy to hold. I have served you, I can truly say, loyally and to the
uttermost of my power; and I would serve you yet, if it pleased God to
enable me; but every one can see it is not His Will that I should abide
longer in this world. Wherefore it is fitting, so please you, that our baronage
choose some one who shall guard you and the realm in such a way, if he
can, as to please both God and men. And may God grant you to have such a
master as may be to our honour!” Up rose the Bishop of Winchester and
spoke: “Hearken now! Marshal, the land was given you to hold and the
realm to maintain, I grant it; but the King was given to me.” “Out upon
you!” said the Marshal, “Lord Bishop, that saying is wrong; you should
have held your peace. You were never concerned in this matter. The time is
not very long since you and the good Earl of Chester besought me with
tears that I would be guardian and master of the King and the kingdom both
together; your memory is short, meseems; and the Legate was at great pains
about the matter, and begged and commanded me, till from you all, together
with him, I received the King and the kingdom. And when I had received
the King, it was well seen and heard, I assure you, that I gave the King into
your hand, for he could not go travelling about; therefore I gave him to you
to take care of him.” Here, seized with sudden pain, he turned to the Legate:
“Go now, and take the King with you; and to-morrow, if you please, be

good enough to return. I will take counsel with my son and my people, and
provide some one to undertake the business; and may God guide our
counsels aright!”
Next morning he called his son, his wife, his nephew John, and his most
trusted advisers, and told them his project: that the King “should be
committed to God and the Pope, and to the Legate.” “For in no land are the
folk of so many different minds as in England; and if I committed him to
one, the others, you may be sure, would be envious.” “If the land be not
defended by the Pope at the present juncture, then I know not who should
defend it.” To this they all agreed. So when the King, the Legate and the
great men came again, “the Marshal raised himself on his side, and called
the King, and took him by the hand, and said to the Legate: ‘Sir, I have
thought long and carefully about what we spoke of yesterday. I will commit
my lord here into the Hand of God, and into the hand of the Pope, and into
yours, you being here in the Pope’s stead.’ Then he said to the King: ‘Sir, I
pray the Lord God that, if I have ever done anything that pleased Him, He
may grant you to be a brave and good man; and if you should go astray in
the footsteps of any evil ancestor and become like to such, then I pray God,
the Son of Mary, that He give you not long life, but grant you to die at
once.’ ‘Amen,’ answered the King.” Another attack of pain seems to have
compelled the Marshal again hurriedly to dismiss the assembly: but he at
once sent his eldest son after them, that he might formally deliver the King,
“in the sight of the baronage,” to the Legate, in order that no man should be
able to say this thing was done in a corner. The young Marshal fulfilled his
commission; taking the King by the hand, “in the sight of all he offered him
to the Legate. But the Bishop of Winchester sprang up and took the child by
the head. ‘Let be, my Lord Bishop!’ said the young Marshal, ‘concern
yourself not with this matter; I wish it to be seen that I fulfill all my father’s
command.’” The Legate rose up to receive the King, and sternly rebuked
Peter.[516]
The old Marshal, feeling, as he said “delivered from a great burden,”
lingered for some weeks longer, and died on 14th May, conscious to the
last, in the act of making the sign of the cross.[517] Earls, barons, bishops,
abbots, joined the funeral train as it passed from Caversham to London; and
with every imaginable token of honour and reverence from clerks and
laymen alike, the Marshal was laid to rest, as he had desired, in the church

of the Knights of the Temple; Archbishop Stephen of Canterbury taking the
chief part in the burial service and paying the last honours to the man whom
he too, as he stood by the open grave, declared to have been “the best
knight of all the world that has lived in our time.”[518]

FOOTNOTES: [Skip footnotes]

[327] “Se il est seignor de terre, par acort dou commun de ces homes deit estre garde
son corps e ces forteresces.” Assises de Jérusalem, ed. Beugnot, vol. i. p. 261.

[328] William of Tyre, lib. xxi. cc. 3, 5.

[329] His biographer represents him as stating in October, 1216, that he was “over
eighty,” see above, p. 6; but this seems to be an error on the part of either the writer or the
Marshal himself; see Hist. G. le Mar., vol. iii. p. xxiv. and p. 8, note 2. His parents were, it
seems, married in 1141 or 1142, and in all likelihood he—their second son—was born in
1143 or 1144.

[330] “Gaste-viande.”

[331] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 815–1106. I am compelled to differ from the illustrious editor
of the Histoire respecting this “affair of Drincourt,” which he regards as a fantastic version
of what the Gesta Henrici and Robert of Torigny relate as having taken place there in 1173.
To my mind, the divergences pointed out in M. Meyer’s own footnote to Hist. G. le Mar.,
vol. iii. p. 16, and in his introduction, ib. p. xxviii., indicate plainly that the poet and the
prose writers are speaking of two distinct events; and this indication is confirmed by the
fact that the poet brings his story of Drincourt into immediate connexion with the
knighting of the Marshal (cf. M. Meyer’s note 3, vol. iii. p. xxvi.). This “most puzzling
passage in the whole poem” need not puzzle us at all, if we will but accept it literally; i.e.,
as relating to an otherwise unrecorded episode in the strife between Henry and Louis,
about the Vexin and other matters, which went on—intermittently indeed and with long
intervals of peace, but still never wholly laid to rest—through fully ten years prior to the
crowning of the “young king.” The episode was obviously one of no great consequence,
except to the Marshal, who probably cherished its memory as that of the first real fight in
which he was privileged to take a share. Its non-appearance in the other records of the time
is therefore no proof of its unreality. The names of the chief actors on the French side—the
Count of Flanders and his brother Matthew, Count of Boulogne—are no doubt an
“anachronism,” dragged in, by a very natural confusion of memory on the part of the poet’s
informants, from the later “affair of Drincourt” in 1173. For the incident itself, apart from
this error as to some of the persons concerned in it, more than one possible date might be
suggested which would fit in well enough with the place given to the affair in the string of
the poet’s narrative.

[332] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 1163–1526.

[333] Ib. ll. 1939–46.

[334] ll. 2071–2150.

[335] ll. 5127–5636.

[336] ll. 6415–6606.

[337] ll. 6865–6905.

[338] ll. 7302–7309.

[339] ll. 7529–9223.

[340] ll. 9364–9371.

[341] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 11877–908.

[342] Ib. ll. 10012–10076.

[343] R. Howden, vol. iv. p. 90.

[344] Charter Rolls, p. 46 b; date, 20th April, 1200.

[345] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 9845–58.

[346] Ib. ll. 19125–52.

[347] Ib. ll. 18407–20.

[348] Chanson de Roland, ll. 1117–1123.

[349] E.g., his adhesion to the “young king” when the latter was in rebellion against
Henry II., his refusal to do homage to Richard for his Irish lands (which he held under
John) in 1194, and his refusal to fight for John against Philip Augustus (to whom he had
done homage for his Norman lands) in 1205. In this last instance John pretended to regard
William’s action as treasonable, but his after-conduct showed that he had been only
pretending.

[350] See his answer to a remonstrance about the gains he had won by tourneying, Hist.
G. le Mar., ll. 18469–96, and his forcible seizure of money whose owner destined it to an
evil use, ll. 6677–6834.

[351] Ib. ll. 5088–5104.

[352] Justiciarius noster, 1st November, 1216 (Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 1), 2nd November
twice (ib. p. 2, Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 293); justiciarius Angliae, 13th November twice
(ll.cc.); justiciarius noster Angliae, 6th November twice, 12th November, 14th November
(Pat. Rolls, pp. 2, 3).

[353] The letter patent by which Hubert was appointed is unfortunately not enrolled; but
the appointment was so clearly recognized by all parties as valid that we cannot doubt its
having been made in the usual way.

[354] Turner, “Minority of Henry III.”, part I, Trans. Roy. Hist. Soc., 2nd ser. vol. xviii.
p. 271.

[355] Responsiones pro Huberto (M. Paris, Chron. Maj., vol. vi.), p. 64.

[356] It may even have been given to him purposely, by consent of the real Justiciar, in
order to enable him to undertake certain administrative functions specially attached to the
chief Justiciar’s office, while Hubert was—as he said himself in 1239—so busy at Dover
that “a castro non potuit recedere nec officium justiciarii exercere”; Responsiones, p. 65.

[357] “Rector nostri et regni nostri.” This title appears on the Rolls for the first time on
19th November, 1216 (Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 3), and continues thenceforth in regular use.

[358] This fact is too self-evident to need illustration, but it is well illustrated by an
incident of the late spring or early summer of 1217. Some person or persons unnamed
“urgently entreated” Honorius to take measures for the appointment of Earl Ranulf of
Chester as colleague to the Earl Marshal, whom they represented as being too old to fulfil
the duties of his office, “especially in these times.” The proposal did not commend itself to
the Pope; but he remitted the matter to Gualo’s judgment (Roy. Letters, vol. i. p. 532,
Honorius to Gualo, 8th July, 1217), and it seems to have been heard of no more. How or
with whom the suggestion originated there is nothing to show. That it had not come from
the Legate is clear from the wording of the Pope’s letter to him. It evidently did not come
from the Marshal himself, although, as has been seen, he had originally proposed that the
regency should be given to Chester. There is no sign that it was the outcome of any
intrigue on the part of Chester, whose conduct seems never to have in any way belied the
assurance of loyal support which he had given to the Marshal in October, 1216.

[359] In the very rare cases which form an exception to this rule it is the Legate whose
seal takes the place of the Marshal’s. One of these exceptional cases is so interesting as to
deserve special notice. It consists of two letters patent, both dated Bristol, 2nd December,
1216, attested by the King himself, and sealed with the seals of the Legate and the Bishop
of Winchester (Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 9, 10). One of these letters is addressed to the Justiciar
of Ireland, Geoffrey de Marsh, the other to Meiler FitzHenry; the purpose of both is to
secure for the Marshal his rights in Ireland as lord of Leinster, especially the service due to
him from Meiler, which the late King had (in one of his fits of suspiciousness) taken into
his own hand as security for the Marshal’s fidelity. The reason why these letters were not
attested by the Marshal himself is obvious; but the interesting point in the matter is that the
Legate and the Bishop, or the boy-King, or all three together, seem to have seized upon the
occasion as an opportunity for putting on record the estimation in which they held him.
Each letter contains a sort of parenthesis, quite unnecessary to its main purport, in praise of
Earl William. “Qui” writes Henry to Geoffrey “patri nostro viventi semper fideliter astitit,
et nobis assistit, et cujus fidelitatem plurimum commendamus”; while in the letter to
Meiler there is a yet more unconventional and emphatic outburst of feeling—“Ipse enim
W. semper patri nostro viventi fideliter astitit, et devote et nobis constanter adheret et
assistit, et ipsius obsequium pre cunctis regni nostri magnatibus habemus plurimum
commendatum, quoniam tamquam aurum in fornace, sic se in necessitate probavit.”

[360] See the Rolls, 1216—November, 1218, passim.

[361] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 1, 23, 72, 100; Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 299 b.

[362] The King of Jerusalem seems to have come of age at fifteen, like his subjects.
Assises de Jérusalem, ed. Beugnot, vol. i, p. 262.

[363] Querimonia Falcasii, W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 60.

[364] “Usque ad etatem nostram,” Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 123, &c. This formula was used
as late as August, 1226; ib. vol. ii. p. 57.

[365] See Note VI.

[366] For the changes of sheriffs in Henry’s first year see Turner, Minority, pt. I. pp.
273–4.

[367] He was made Seneschal of Touraine in 1202, defended Loches against Philip in
1204, was captured with the castle, and ransomed by John for a thousand marks. See
Turner, pt. I. p. 249.

[368] Gloucester, Bristol, Hereford, Nottingham, Odiham, Windsor. See Turner, pt. I. pp.
249–251. It was Engelard who defended Windsor so long and so successfully against the
French. He had previously made a splendid defence of Odiham; R. Wend., vol. iii. p. 371.

[369] There is not a particle of evidence that these men had ever given just cause for
resentment to any English party or person. “They cannot be described as royal favourites,
for not one of them received a grant of land in perpetuity by royal charter. Nor can they be
included among the King’s political advisers; for if they had been such they would
certainly have witnessed his charters occasionally. Yet not one of them witnessed a royal
charter except Engelard de Cigogné; and he witnessed but one before the issue of the Great
Charter at Runnymede, and but two afterwards. They were neither courtiers nor politicians,
but soldiers of experience, whom the barons feared with good cause.” Turner, pt. I. pp.
253, 254.

[370] A grotesque comment on the whole affair is furnished by the fact that the drafters
of the article seem to have neither known nor cared what the names of their intended
victims really were; see Turner, pt. I. pp. 248, 252.

[371] Bréauté is in Normandy, Maulay in Gascony. Of Falkes we shall have to speak at
length later on. Peter de Maulay is (like Falkes) said to have begun life as an usher or
doorkeeper: “Chil Pieres de Maulay ot este huissiers le roi, mais puis crut tant ses afaires
que il fu chevaliers,” &c. Hist. Ducs, p. 180.

[372] As Mr. Turner truly says (pt. I. pp. 276, 277):—“The confidence which King John
and the advisers of his son Henry reposed in these so-called alien sheriffs rested on
experience. Not one of them could boast of illustrious ancestry” (Savaric is not included
among those of whom Mr. Turner is here speaking) “or inherited wealth; not one of them
can fairly be described as a royal favourite. Men of action, soldiers brought from France to
defend their King and his kingdom, they owed their positions to their military talents.
These men from the King’s dominions across the sea helped in no small measure to place
the heir of the Angevin house safely on the throne of England.”

[373] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 322 et seq.; Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 92.

[374] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 93.

[375] Ib. pp. 94–97.

[376] Close Rolls, vol. i. 329; date, 12th October.

[377] Chron. Merton, Petit-Dutaillis, p. 515.

[378] Hist. Ducs, p. 206.

[379] W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 239; cf. ib. p. 240, and R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 33.

[380] Ann. Dunst., p. 52.

[381] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 377.

[382] Chron. Merton, Petit-Dutaillis, p. 515.

[383] W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 240.

[384] Statutes of the Realm, Charters of Liberties, pp. 17–19. On this Charter see
Professor Powicke’s article, “The Chancery during the minority of Henry III,” Eng. Hist.
Rev., vol. xxiii. pp. 232, 233.

[385] Second Charter of Henry III, c. 7.

[386] c. 13.

[387] c. 14.

[388] c. 15.

[389] 2nd Ch. Hen. III, c. 16; cf. 1st Ch. Hen. III, c. 15, M. C., c. 20.

[390] 2nd Ch. Hen. III, c. 23; cf. 1st Ch., c. 21.

[391] 2nd Ch., c. 26.

[392] 2nd Ch., c. 34; cf. 1st Ch., c. 31.

[393] 2nd Ch., c. 38; cf. 1st Ch., c. 35.

[394] 2nd Ch. Hen. III, c. 20.

[395] c. 42.

[396] c. 44.

[397] c. 39.

[398] 2nd Ch. Hen. III, c. 43.

[399] c. 46.

[400] c. 47.

[401] Statutes of the Realm, Charters of Liberties, pp. 20, 21.

[402] See Turner, pt. I. p. 285.

[403] Hidage, carucage, and aid are mentioned on 7th June, 1217, as having been
assessed “de precepto nostro,” Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 310; and the two former seem to have
been in process of collection in some of the Midland shires in the middle of April of that
year; ib. pp. 306, 306 b, Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 56.

[404] Roy. Letters, vol. i. p. 532.

[405] Close Rolls, vol. i. pp. 602, 603.

[406] See above, footnote 315.

[407] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 328.

[408] Ib. pp. 343, 340 b, 376 b.

[409] Turner, pt. I. p. 288.

[410] Ib. p. 284.

[411] Roy. Lett., vol. i. pp. 7, 8; date, 6th November. Dr. Shirley made the year 1217, but
he must have overlooked the closing words of the letter—“De praemissis autem novi sigilli
nostri sanctae paternitati vestrae reverentiam merito duximus exhibendam”—which clearly
shew that it is 1218.

[412] The various accounts of the money paid (or promised) to Louis are extremely
puzzling. The Chronicle of Melrose, a. 1217, p. 131, gives the total as ten thousand
pounds. The Dunstable Annals, p. 51, say that Louis left his Marshal in England “pro
quindecim millibus marcarum recipiendo, quas pro reragiis tenseriarum et expensis quas
fecerat promiserunt”—this verb has no nominative, but the king’s guardians seem to be
meant. The Hist. Ducs, p. 204, after summarizing the treaty, says Louis was to have
“deseure tout chou, x m. marcs d’estrelins por l’arierage de ses rentes que il n’ot pas euues,
et pour la desconfiture de Nicole vii m. mars; che fu xvii m. mars par tout.” (For the first
marcs the MS. followed in the printed text has livres, but the other has marcs, which is
obviously the right reading; see the editor’s note 1, l.c.). M. Petit-Dutaillis, Vie de Louis
VIII, p. 176, note 2, takes the marks promised to Louis as marks sterling. But the document
on which he relies for this interpretation of the sum (ib. p. 512) is a statement of the king’s
debt to Florence of S. Omer, not of his debt to Louis. The letter of 6th November, 1218,
which does specify the sum due to Louis, says nothing about marks sterling; it calls them
simply “marks.” Reading the Dunstable Annals and the Hist. Ducs by the light of the
king’s letter, one is led to think that the monk’s “fifteen thousand marks” are made up of
the king’s ten thousand marks “pro bono pacis” (= “pro expensis quas fecerat [Ludovicus]”
= “pour la desconfiture de Nicole”), and five (instead of seven) thousand “pro reragiis,”
“pour l’arierage de ses rentes,” the amounts given for the indemnity and for the arrears
having been reversed (and the latter perhaps exaggerated) by the Flemish historian.

[413] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 94.

[414] Ib. p. 114.

[415] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 115.

[416] Ib. p. 168, 30th August, 1218.

[417] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 369 b.

[418] Ib. pp. 383, 388 b.

[419] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 125.

[420] Ib. p. 284.

[421] “Scutagium positum de novo per consilium commune comitum et baronum
nostrorum Angliæ,” 10th November, 1217, Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 125; “per commune
consilium regni nostri,” 30th October, 1217, Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 371: “de carrucagio et
hydagio quod assisum fuit per consilium regni nostri,” 9th January, 1218, ib. p. 348 b.
Tallage to be taken from the towns and from the royal demesnes, ib. pp. 349, 359, 364,
370; Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 170, 171.

[422] Its proceeds are enrolled in the Pipe Rolls 2 and 3 Hen. III under the title of
“Compotus de Scutagio assiso ... ad Angliam deliberandam de Francis”; see Petit-Dutaillis,
p. 177, note 5. It did not, however, all go to Louis; e.g., the whole scutage of Kent, as well
as a share of the tallage from some of the towns in that county, was allotted to Hubert de
Burgh for the repair and fortification of Dover Castle, 11th February, 1218, Close Rolls,
vol. i. p. 352.

[423] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 336.

[424] “In quas ingressus non habetur nisi per vicecomites vel ballivos et absque debito
waranto.”

[425] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 170, 171.

[426] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 375.

[427] Ann. Dunst., p. 53.

[428] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 93. On Alexander’s occupation of Carlisle and the
ecclesiastical feud there, see ib. p. 111.

[429] Ib. p. 122.

[430] Henry was at Northampton those two days, ib. pp. 130, 172.

[431] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 348, Northampton.

[432] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 132.

[433] Even in Gwynedd there were encroachments in the north-east, e.g., Rhuddlan.

[434] After careful consideration I can see no other possible interpretation of the decree
(Bliss, Calendar of Papal Documents, vol. i. p. 109) whereby Pope Honorius in 1226
declared Joan legitimate, but without prejudice to King Henry.

[435] Brut y Tywysogion, pp. 287–289.

[436] Ib. p. 291.

[437] About 11th November, ib. pp. 285–287; certainly between 2nd October and 20th
November, Close Rolls, vol. i. pp. 232 b, 237 b.

[438] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 232 b.

[439] Brut, pp. 289, 291.

[440] Sons of his father’s sister Maud by her marriage with Gruffudd ap Rhys, who died
in 1201. Maelgwn and Rhys Gryg, i.e., “the Hoarse,” were Gruffudd’s brothers.

[441] Brut, p. 287.

[442] Ib. p. 293.

[443] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 335, Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 109, 110.

[444] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 72–75, 112.

[445] Brut, pp. 299, 301.

[446] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17738–45.

[447] Husband of Reginald de Breuse’s sister Annora.

[448] Foedera, I. i. p. 149.

[449] Above, footnote 430.

[450] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 132; cf. Close Rolls, vol. i. pp. 348, 376.

[451] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 136.

[452] Ib. vol. i. p. 143, Close Rolls, vol. i. pp. 378 b, 379. Cf. Brut, p. 303: “Christianity
was restored to the men of the south, and Caermarthen and Aberteivi” [i.e., Cardigan]
“were put under the custody of Llywelyn.” These two castles and the whole land of Gower
had been since January, 1214, under the charge of the Earl Marshal; see Pat. Rolls Joh., p.
109 b.

[453] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 142.

[454] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17748–17859.

[455] Brut, p. 303.

[456] Hist. G. le Mar., l. 17818.

[457] Ib. ll. 17860–17871; the story is told confusedly, but with the help of the Brut and
the dates furnished by the Rolls the sequence of events can be made out. The Worcester
parlement in which this discussion took place is doubtless not the first meeting with

Llewelyn, in March, but the later meeting, at the close of Easter, when the court would be
gathered round the king for the festival.

[458] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 149.

[459] Ib. pp. 155, 156.

[460] Brut, p. 305.

[461] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 133.

[462] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 150.

[463] Ib. p. 204.

[464] Geoffrey’s letter does not seem to be extant; we only know its contents from the
reply.

[465] Foedera, I. i. p. 145.

[466] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 31.

[467] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 22, 23, 14th and 17th January, 1217.

[468] Ib. p. 57; cf. Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 306.

[469] These things appear from the agreement made between the king and Geoffrey de
Marsh in 1220, Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 263–264.

[470] Ib. p. 132, 18th December, 1217.

[471] Ib. p. 72.

[472] Close Rolls, vol. i. pp. 376 b, 377.

[473] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 377.

[474] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 162, 15th April, 1218.

[475] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 358 b.

[476] W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 240; cf. Hist. Ducs, p. 207, and Ann. Dunst., p. 51.

[477] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 116.

[478] Ib. p. 174.

[479] Ib. pp. 194, 195, 198, &c.

[480] Ann. Dunst., a. 1220, p. 60.

[481] Close Rolls, vol. i. pp. 354 b, 357, 359 b.

[482] Ib. p. 378 b.

[483] The Ann. Dunst., a. 1218, p. 54, say all these started in May. The Ann. Wav., a.
1218, say Chester and Ferrers started at Whitsuntide (Whit Sunday was 3rd June), and
place Harcourt’s departure in the following year. Cf. W. Cov., vol. ii. pp. 240, 241.

[484] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 44; Ann. Wav. and Dunst., a. 1219.

[485] Ann. Dunst., a. 1219.

[486] R. Wend., l.c.

[487] R. Wend., l.c.; Ann. Dunst. and Wav., a. 1219. In a letter patent dated 20th January,
1219, the king takes under his protection until June 24th a ship which Saer “sibi parari fecit
in partibus Galweiae ad eundum in partes Bristoll, pro victualibus et armis et aliis sibi
necessariis ad iter peregrinacionis suae quod facere disponit in terram Jerosolymitanam.”
Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 185.

[488] Ann. Wav., a. 1219.

[489] Ann. Dunst., a. 1219, p. 56.

[490] The story of the siege of Newark in 1218 is prefaced by Roger of Wendover, vol.
iv. pp. 34, 35, as follows: “Erant autem his diebus multi in Anglia quibus tempore belli
praeteriti dulcissimum fuerat de rapinis vixisse, unde nunc post pacem denuntiatam et
omnibus concessam non potuerunt manus a praeda cohibere; horum autem principales
fuerunt incentores Willelmus comes Albemarliae, Falcasius cum suis castellanis, Robertus
de Veteriponte, Brienus de Insula, Hugo de Baillul, Philippus Marci, et Robertus de Gaugi,
cum aliis multis, qui castella quorundam episcoporum ac magnatum cum terris et
possessionibus contra regis prohibitionem et illorum voluntatem detinere praesumpserunt
eisdem; inter quos Robertus de Gaugi, post multas regis admonitiones, castellum de
Newerc cum villa tota et pertinentiis, quae ad jus Hugonis Lincolniensis episcopi
spectabant, ei reddere contradixit.” Mr. Turner (“Minority,” part II., Trans. Roy. Hist. Soc.,
3rd ser. vol. i. pp. 221–222) has shown that not only up to this date, but for several years
after, there is no evidence on this subject against Falkes, and that there is none whatever, at
any date, against Brian de Lisle, Philip Marc, and Robert de Vipont. Hugh de Balliol really
was contumacious, and so too, though as yet in a much lesser degree, was William of
Aumale (ib. pp. 223, 237). It is quite clear that, as Mr. Turner says (p. 222), Roger’s
account of the Newark affair was written some years after the occurrence, and that Roger
“had in mind the events of the years 1224 and 1225 when he was writing of 1218.” A hint
of this confusion lurks in a detail which seems to have escaped Mr. Turner’s notice. Roger,
immediately before the passage quoted above, says that Henry kept Christmas, 1217 (1218,
in Roger’s reckoning), at Northampton with Falkes. But as a matter of fact Henry kept that
Christmas at Gloucester; see above, p. 91. Obviously Roger was confusing the Christmas
of 1217 with that of 1223, the one which immediately preceded the redistribution of royal
castles in 1224, and which Henry really did spend at Northampton, though not as Falkes’s
guest.

[491] Pat. Rolls Joh., p. 193 b. See details in Turner, pt. II. pp. 222–225.

[492] Pat. Rolls Hen. III, vol. i. p. 68.

[493] Ib. p. 71.

[494] Ib. p. 81.

[495] Ib. p. 85.

[496] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 121.

[497] Ib. pp. 134, 135.

[498] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 378.

[499] Ib. p. 365.

[500] Ib. p. 365 b.

[501] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 162, 163.

[502] R. Wend., vol. iv. pp. 35, 36.

[503] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 164.

[504] Ann. Dunst., a. 1218.

[505] Gualo had certainly sent in his resignation to the Pope; it was on 12th September,
1218, that Honorius appointed Pandulf legate to England, Gualo having resigned that
office: Bliss, Calendar of Documents, vol. i. p. 58.

[506] “Liberate de thesauro nostro Waltero aurifabro qui fecit sigillum nostrum v marcas
pro argento sigilli nostro ponderante v marcas; et pro opere mercedem suam ita reddatis
quod de jure contentus esse debeat,” Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 381 b, 7th November 1218. The
sum finally decided upon as that “wherewith he ought by rights to be content” was forty
shillings, which another writ addressed to the treasurer and chamberlains on 2nd December
authorised them to pay “Waltero de Ripa aurifabro in mercedem operis sigilli nostri quod
fecit”; ib. p. 383.

[507] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 177. This letter has no date; but it heads the Roll of 3 Hen. III,
and is entitled, “Primae litterae novi sigilli domini regis, de cartis vel litteris patentibus non
faciendis; et hic incepit sigillum domini regis currere.” In the Close Roll of the same year
(vol. i. p. 381) there is a note, “Hic incepit sigillum domini regis currere,” inserted between
the abstract of a letter dated 3rd November and that of a letter dated 5th November. The
earliest dated document expressly stated in the Rolls to be “sealed with our seal” is a patent
of 4th November, Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 207.

[508] On 3rd September, 1220, Henry writes to Almeric of Limoges: “Sciatis quod cum
dominus Gualo titulo S. Martini presbyter cardinalis Legatus esset in Anglia, juratum fuit
in praesentia ipsius per dominum Wintoniensem episcopum, et cancellarium nostrum, et
Hubertum de Burgo justiciarium nostrum, necnon et per commune concilium nostrum,
quod ipsi nos custodient et tenebunt in seisina omnium terrarum quae fuerunt in manu
domini Johannis Regis patris nostri die qua guerra primo mota fuit inter ipsum et barones
suos Angliae, et quod nec aliquid fiet de terra aliqua conferenda vel alienanda, quamdiu
infra aetatem fuerimus, quod cedere possit alicui ad perpetuitatem,” Foedera, I. i. p. 163. It

is possible that this transaction, of which I have found no other mention, may have taken
place at the council of Bristol in November, 1217; but if it had we should have expected
the Marshal to be named among those who took the oath. The date which I have suggested
for it seems therefore more probable.

[509] Chron. Melrose, a. 1218, p. 134.

[510] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 177. The statement of the Waverley Annals, a. 1218, that the
Charter was again re-issued after Michaelmas, is clearly erroneous; this supposed
confirmation is, as Professor Powicke says (“Chancery,” Eng. Hist. Rev., vol. xxiii. p. 234),
“obviously that of 1217.”

[511] “Circa festum S. Clementis,” Ann. Wav., a. 1218; “circa festum B. Andreae,” R.
Coggeshall, p. 186, and M. Paris, Chron. Maj., vol. iii. pp. 42, 43. He seems to have
carried with him a part, but still only a part, of the arrears of tribute due from England and
Ireland to the Pope: “Soluta est vicesima pars trium annorum ab Anglis Ecclesiae
Romanae,” say the Ann. Winton., a. 1219; on the debt for Ireland, see above, p. 95. The
Barnwell Annalist says Gualo went “cum infinita pecunia, quocumque modo adquisita”
(W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 241); but the insinuation here implied, and the charges of avarice and
extortion brought against Gualo by some modern writers, are groundless. See Turner, pt. I.,
pp. 225, 256, note 1.

[512] R. Coggeshall, p. 186.

[513] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17881–86.

[514] Ib. ll. 17886–17936. The poet says the Marshal stayed in London till after the
beginning of Lent; and this is confirmed by the Rolls. We have no attestations of the
Marshal between 15th March (Mid-Lent) and 20th March, but on the 20th he attests a letter
at Caversham, Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 189. On the attestations of royal letters during the last
few weeks of his life see Turner, pt. I. p. 291.

[515] This seems to be the meaning of Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17941–48, compared with the
letters attested by the Marshal on 24th and 28th March and 4th April, two of them “in the
presence of Bishop Peter” (Close Rolls, vol. i. pp. 389 b, 390), and those attested by Peter
at Caversham on 2nd April (Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 190), and by Pandulf and Peter at Reading
on 10th and 11th April (Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 390).

[516] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 17949–18114. Cf. the statement made on the King’s behalf in
the indictment against Hubert de Burgh in 1239, that the Legate (by a clerical error or a
slip of memory miscalled “Gwalla”) “de commune consilio et provisione totius regni post
mortem Marescalli fuit primus consiliarius et principalis totius regni Angliae,”
Responsiones pro Huberto, M. Paris, Chron. Maj., vol. vi. p. 64.

[517] See the extremely interesting account of his last days and death, Hist. G. le Mar.,
ll. 18121–18973. The date—14th May, Tuesday before Ascension Day—is given in Ann.
Wav., a. 1219.

[518] Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 18983–19073.

CHAPTER III
THE LEGATION OF PANDULF
1219–1221
Car n’a tele gent en nule terre
Comme il a dedenz Engleterre
De divers corages chascuns;
. . . .
Si la terre n’est defendue
Par l’Apostoire en icest point
. . . .
Dont ne sai je qui la defende.

Hist. G. le Mar., ll. 18041–18060.

Ille [Pandulfus] multos bellicos tumultus nondum congelatos auctoritate sibi tradita tempore
legationis viriliter comprimebat.

Flores Historiarum, a. 1221.

The new Legate was not a stranger to England. His first recorded visit there
had taken place in 1211. He was then in subdeacon’s orders, and a member
of the household of Pope Innocent III.[519] Of his earlier life nothing is
known, except that he was a Roman by birth;[520] but King John seems to
have already had some indirect knowledge of him, for it was at John’s
request that he and another papal envoy, a brother of the Temple, were
appointed by Innocent to go and confer with the King of England for the
restoration of peace to the English Church.[521] In the one interview which
took place between the commissioners and the King, Pandulf was the
spokesman on the papal side; and John found that he had mistaken his man.
The subdeacon simply stated the terms which he was instructed to offer to
John; a long argument ensued, in which John was worsted; but he still

refused to submit, whereupon Pandulf told him to his face, in the presence
of all the court, that the Pope meant to subdue him and had already
excommunicated him and absolved his subjects from their allegiance, and
that the sentence was to take effect from that day forth. “If I had not sent for
you, I would make you ride about my realm for a year!” raved the King.
“You might as well say you would hang us,” coolly answered Pandulf; “we
look for no other reward from you”; and when John tried to frighten him by
issuing in his presence orders for the mutilation and execution of sundry
prisoners, one of whom was a priest, the only result was that Pandulf went
to fetch a candle for the avowed purpose of formally excommunicating then
and there any person who should lay hands on this particular victim, and
that John, evidently alarmed lest the candle should be used against himself
as well as against his officers, hurried after the dauntless subdeacon and
surrendered the man to his judgement.[522] Thenceforth Pandulf became the
Pope’s special confidant and assistant in all matters relating to England and
its King. It was he who in January, 1213, carried to Philip Augustus the
Pope’s letter charging Philip with the execution of the sentence of
deprivation against John; and it was he alone who shared with the Pope the
secret of the negotiations which were then already afoot for rendering
Philip’s expedition needless. Four months later he was in England again,
receiving, in the Pope’s behalf, first John’s assent to the identical terms
which he had refused in 1211, and secondly the King’s homage to the
Roman See for the realms of England and Ireland.[523]
After a hurried visit to France, to stop the intended invasion from thence,
[524]
Pandulf returned to England, and remained there till the beginning of
the next year. His position during this time is somewhat difficult to define.
His official rank was merely that of “the Pope’s messenger”;[525] he had
never held a commission as Legate; and the distinction between the two
offices was clearly marked when in September, 1213, an envoy of higher
standing in the Curia, Nicolas, Cardinal Bishop of Tusculum, came clothed
with the full powers of a Legate a latere to receive a repetition of John’s
homage to Rome, and to raise the Interdict as soon as the bishops and
clergy should have been compensated for their losses and wrongs. Certain
payments made to Pandulf on the King’s behalf seem to indicate that he was
the authorized receiver of the earliest instalments of the tribute to Rome.
[526]
John had already made a friend of the man who had withstood him in

1211; the Pope’s clerk was taken into the counsels of the King; “We have
granted to Master Pandulf that a truce be made between ourself and the
Welsh,” wrote John to the Marcher barons in July, 1213;[527] and when
Pandulf went oversea in January, 1214, he went as “the King’s
messenger”[528]—whether to France or to Rome, there is nothing to shew
with certainty; but it is probable that he carried some of the tribute money
to the Pope. He seems to have been back in England by the end of the year,
when the recall of Nicolas of Tusculum left him once more sole
representative of the Pope in England, but still without any higher title than
before. In the spring of 1215 he and the Bishop of Chichester conjointly
were delegated by the Pope to investigate the merits of a project for
dissolving the union between the see of Bath and the abbey of Glastonbury.
[529]
In the preamble to the Great Charter “Master Pandulf, the Pope’s
subdeacon and familiar,” stands with the Master of the Temple between the
bishops and the lay magnates in the list of the King’s advisers; and he is the
last named of the three commissioners (the other two being the Bishop of
Winchester and the Abbot of Reading) to whom the Pope addressed his
letter ordering that the “disturbers of King and kingdom” should be
proclaimed excommunicate by the bishops. If any of these latter failed to
obey the order, the commissioners themselves were empowered to suspend
the recalcitrant prelates; and thus it fell to the lot of Pandulf and Bishop
Peter to proclaim the suspension of Archbishop Stephen.[530]
Some seven or eight weeks before this, Pandulf had been—of course on
the King’s recommendation—elected to the bishopric of Norwich;[531] but
no steps towards his consecration were taken for more than six years.
Shortly after the middle of September, 1215, he seems to have gone to
Rome on a mission from John, who wrote to the Pope that “although Master
Pandulf is most useful to us in England, inasmuch as he labours faithfully
and devotedly for the honour of the Roman Church and of ourself and our
whole realm, yet we send him to your Holiness because we can trust no one
else to explain the state of ourself and our realm so well as he can do
it.”[532] We find no further trace of Pandulf for nearly two years. It is
doubtful whether he had returned to England before John’s death; Gualo
had been residing there as Legate since May, 1216, and the subdeacon’s
presence was therefore no longer necessary for the interests of either Pope
or King. In July, 1218, he was at Rome, acting as notary to the Pope.[533]

On 12th September Honorius appointed him to the office which Gualo had
just resigned;[534] and on 2nd December he was formally welcomed as
Legate in S. Paul’s cathedral in London.[535]
Pandulf had well earned his promotion; and the special appropriateness
of his appointment as Legate in England was obvious. His qualifications for
the post may be summed up in an adaptation of the words in which John
had commended him to Honorius: there was no one in the Roman Curia
who could be trusted to understand and manage the affairs of John’s heir
and of his realm so well as this man whom King and Pope alike had found
by experience to be “most useful, faithful, and devoted” to the interests of
both. As Legate, Pandulf came to his task in far less difficult circumstances
than Gualo had done. Even when he set out from Rome, however, there
must have been a general consciousness that the new Legate would ere long
have to take upon him another charge, with which his predecessor had
never been burdened. The selection of an English noble, instead of the legal
representative of the overlord of England, as governor of King and kingdom
in 1216 had been occasioned by circumstances which in 1218 had ceased to
exist. There was now no invader to expel, no rebellion to subdue, no need
for a warrior-regent: and there was also no man among the baronage clearly
marked out for the regent’s office as the Marshal had been by his personal
qualities and by the universal estimation of his fellow barons. It is only fair
to the English magnates to say that there are no indications of rivalry among
them for the reversion of the regent’s office; but there can be no doubt that,
as the Marshal himself foresaw, the appointment of any one of them as his
successor must inevitably have led to jealousy and discord, and that the
only person who could safely take the foremost place in the government
after him was the representative of the Apostolic See. The matter might
indeed not have been settled without difficulty, had its settlement been
postponed till after the Marshal’s death. His forethought and his influence
averted the danger, and from the day when he transferred the custody of the
King to Pandulf at Reading the Legate was recognized as chief among the
guardians of little Henry and his realm.
Pandulf’s supremacy, however, was of a different 1219
character from that of the Earl Marshal. Theoretically, it
was more absolute, for the powers which had appertained respectively to
the Marshal and to Gualo were united in his person; he was at once the

elected regent of the realm and the representative of its overlord. But
practically his rule was less absolute, because he had the good sense to
recognize from the outset that the direction of the entire home and foreign
policy of England, and of its internal government, was a charge too great
for a foreign ecclesiastic to undertake single-handed. He did not assume the
title of “ruler of King and kingdom”; and he shared the functions of that
office with the Justiciar and the Bishop of Winchester. He took but little part
in the routine of administrative business; he is seldom found attesting royal
letters; he left such matters to Hubert and Peter. From the very beginning of
his regency, however—even before the death of the Marshal—he claimed
an exclusive right of supreme control over one department of royal
administration: the treasury. This appears from some letters written by him
from the west of England to the treasurer Eustace de Fauconberg and the
vice-chancellor Ralf de Neville in London, in the spring of the year 1219.
[536]
Soon after the council at Reading, Pandulf went to reside for some
weeks first at Cirencester, and afterwards at the abbey of Lantony at
Gloucester. On 30th April he wrote from Cirencester to Eustace and Ralf
conjointly: “By our authority as Legate we lay upon you strict injunctions
to give all attention and diligence to the business of the Exchequer; to
deposit what money you can get in the house of the Temple in London, and
to pay nothing of it out to anybody without our special command and
licence; and we strictly forbid that the seal be withdrawn from the
Exchequer at the bidding of anyone.”[537] At the same time he wrote a
separate letter to Ralf, ordering him “not to withdraw from the Exchequer
with the seal at anyone’s bidding, because the proceedings of the Exchequer
and the advantage of the King would be hindered thereby.”[538] On 10th
May he “warned and exhorted” Ralf to “attend faithfully and devotedly to
the King’s business, and especially the business of the Exchequer which is
at present imminent.”[539] In subsequent letters to Ralf he emphatically
reiterated his orders to store up money in the Temple and to let none of it be
paid out “without our knowledge and command”; on one occasion giving as
a reason that “as you well know, the King is burdened with many
debts.”[540] On 16th May he so far relaxed his injunction to Ralf about not
quitting the Exchequer as to give him leave “the holy blissful Martyr for to
seek,”[541] if he wished it, and if there was nothing that needed to be done at
the Exchequer; “but,” he added, “make haste back, and deposit the King’s

seal under your own in the Temple till you return”; and on 26th May he
again told the vice-chancellor not to leave the Exchequer “at the bidding of
any man.”[542]
It is not certain whether the seal referred to in these letters is the King’s
great seal or its duplicate the seal of the Exchequer. Nominally, the custody
of both these seals appertained to the Chancellor; but since the latter years
of Henry II a large part of the Chancellor’s duties, including the keeping of
the great seal, had been usually delegated to a vice-chancellor; and the
whole of them were left in the capable and trusty hands of Ralf de Neville
throughout the greater part of the chancellorship of Richard de Marsh,
which lasted from 1214 till 1226.[543] The Exchequer seal was never
permitted to leave the precincts of the Exchequer, where it was kept by the
Chancellor “through a deputy,”[544] who doubtless might be, but was not
necessarily, identical with the vice-chancellor. With the paying of money
out of the Exchequer neither Chancellor nor vice-chancellor, as such, had
anything to do; this was a part of the business of the treasurer and
chamberlains. It seems probable that the vice-chancellor may have been
also one of the chamberlains acting at the Exchequer at this time.[545] It is
certain that he was in Pandulf’s fullest confidence;[546] and he may thus in a
twofold or even threefold capacity—as keeper of the King’s great seal, as
the Chancellor’s deputy having the custody of the Exchequer seal, and as
chamberlain—have supported Pandulf’s efforts to maintain, as a special
prerogative attached to the regent’s office, the right of exclusive control
over the Exchequer.[547] That there was some matter under discussion
between the Legate, the Justiciar, the treasurer, and the vice-chancellor, is
clear from a letter written by Hubert de Burgh on 15th May to Eustace and
Ralf in which he says the Legate “sent us word that he will labour
altogether by our counsel for God’s honour and the King’s advantage; and
we sent him word that if he will acquiesce in your advice, we will acquiesce
in his counsel, for God’s honour and the advantage of the King.”[548] The
constitution of the Exchequer underwent great changes in the course of the
next fifteen years; and some of these changes may have owed their origin to
Pandulf, who perhaps made, or attempted to make, some experiments in the
re-organization of this department of the government, possibly with a view
to checking what he may have regarded as extravagance on the Justiciar’s
part in the disposal of the King’s money. Some months later we find him

exhorting Hubert also to “take effectual steps concerning the business of the
Exchequer”;[549] and four years later one of the charges brought against
Hubert was that of having been “a waster of the King’s treasure.”[550] There
is, however, no means of ascertaining what really lay behind Pandulf’s
mysterious orders to the vice-chancellor. If the matter was one which
involved a conflict between the authority of the regent and that of the
Justiciar, it was probably compromised, or at least decided by an amicable
agreement; it evidently led to no subsequent friction in the council of three
which virtually governed England throughout Pandulf’s legation, and in
which, while the foremost place belonged by a double right to the Legate-
regent, the second belonged by long-established constitutional tradition to
the Justiciar.
Hubert de Burgh’s reputation as a statesman had yet to 1201–1217
be made; but a career of distinction in more ways than
one already lay behind him. His origin is absolutely unknown. The surname
of which he and his brothers seem to be the earliest bearers mentioned in
history represents, no doubt, the birthplace of one of their ancestors,
probably their father;[551] but whether that place was Peterborough, or
Brough in Westmorland, or one of the many Burghs and Burys in England
or of the almost as numerous “Bourgs” in the continental dominions of the
Angevin house, there is nothing to shew. In the early years of John’s reign
Hubert’s brother William played some part in the affairs of the Anglo-
Norman March in Ireland.[552] Hubert himself was in 1201–1205
1201 chamberlain to John,[553] and entrusted with the
wardenship of the Welsh Marches.[554] At the close of 1202 he was
constable of Falaise, and had charge of the captive Arthur of Brittany,
whom he saved from John’s cruelty chiefly, it seems, out of regard for the
interests of John himself.[555] In 1204 he was constable of Chinon; he held
it against the forces of Philip Augustus for twelve months, and when at last
—long after the rest of the old Angevin lands were lost—its walls were so
shattered that further defence became impossible, he sallied forth at the
head of his men, fighting desperately, and was only made prisoner when
disabled by a severe wound.[556] On his release he returned to his duties as
chamberlain; and he was also sheriff of six counties at various times during
the next eight or nine years.[557] Early in 1214 John appointed him

seneschal of Poitou,[558] whence he returned in the following April with
some troops for the King’s service;[559] shortly afterwards all the King’s
subjects from over sea who obeyed his summons to come and help him
against the barons were instructed to place themselves under Hubert’s
orders.[560] In June Hubert became chief Justiciar of England.[561] For the
exercise of the Justiciar’s ordinary functions he had little scope during the
next two years; it was as constable of Dover castle that he rendered his most
important services to John and to John’s youthful successor. From May,
1216, till August, 1217, he was practically absorbed in one task, the defence
of Dover; and although the account of the sea fight on S. Bartholomew’s
day given by an historian of the next generation,[562] which ascribes the
entire credit of that decisive victory to Hubert alone, is very far from being
borne out by contemporary and impartial authorities,[563] he undoubtedly
shewed himself on that day as brave and capable on board ship as he had so
often proved himself on land. Thus he passed from the military to the
political stage of his career supported by the well-earned respect and
goodwill of all parties in the realm.
The Bishop of Winchester’s position at the council- 1198–1215
table was peculiar. He had no official title and no specific
functions in the civil administration of the kingdom; his connexion with the
government was a purely personal one. A donjon of fourteenth century
construction overlooking a hamlet built on the slope of a hill with a little
stream flowing round its foot, some twelve kilometres south of Poitiers, is
in all likelihood the successor of a castle from which Peter des Roches and
his family derived their surname. In his youth Peter had been a knight in the
service of Richard Cœur-de-Lion;[564] and he must have shown great
aptitude for the career of a warrior, since, long after his helmet had been
replaced by a mitre, he was regarded as “learned in the military art,” and
proved himself worthy of his reputation when he acted as “the master
counsellor” of the English host on the day of the Fair of Lincoln. When and
why he became a clerk there is nothing to shew; but he seems to have done
so shortly before or soon after Richard’s death. In June, 1198, he was
Richard’s chamberlain;[565] a year later he was a “beloved clerk” of John’s,
and treasurer of Poitou.[566] In the favour of Richard’s successor he rose
rapidly. On 3rd January, 1202, he was made dean of S. Martin’s at Angers;
[567]
but his time was spent mostly in England as a clerk in the royal

household;[568] and though he still bore the title of treasurer of Poitou at the
beginning of 1205,[569] he must have lost the profits of all his continental
dignities and offices when the Angevin lands passed into the hands of Philip
of France. For these he was indemnified by grants of various ecclesiastical
revenues and offices in England;[570] and before February 5th, 1205, he was
elected Bishop of Winchester,[571] the see which ranked next to the two
archbishoprics in wealth and importance. He of course owed his election to
the influence of the King; a part of the chapter had chosen another
candidate, against whom Peter had to plead at Rome for confirmation; his
pleading was successful, and he was consecrated by Innocent III on 25th
September.[572] Peter was the one bishop who remained in England
throughout the years of interdict. In 1210, during the King’s absence in
Ireland, he joined with the Justiciar Geoffrey FitzPeter and the Earl of
Chester in an expedition into Wales which prevented a threatened Welsh
invasion.[573] In October, 1213, Geoffrey FitzPeter died; and on 1st
February, 1214, John appointed the Bishop of Winchester chief Justiciar of
England.[574] The King’s choice of a foreigner for this office is said to have
caused much grumbling among the barons,[575] the more so as John was on
the eve of quitting the realm for a military expedition to Aquitaine, so that
during his absence, which lasted eight months, Peter was practically viceroy
of England. One chronicler asserts that Peter “by misusing his power turned
the wrath of the barons against the King”;[576] but there is no proof that the
country was any worse administered during those eight months than it had
been for several years previously, and nothing to indicate that Peter was
guilty of personal tyranny or extortion, or, in short, that he did anything
worse than carry on the King’s government as he found it. Nor is it by any
means clear that he was really disliked or distrusted, except by one section
of the baronage—the section whose lofty patriotism and keen sense of
nationality were soon to be displayed in their scheme for the annexation of
England to France. The substitution of Hubert for Peter as Justiciar at
Midsummer, 1215, may have taken place in deference to the King’s other
advisers; but there is no evidence that such was the case; nothing is known
about the circumstances of Hubert’s appointment; and it is quite possible
that Peter may have resigned the justiciarship of his own accord.
From that time forth Peter never held office as a 1216
minister of state. He never had done so, save during

those sixteen months of his justiciarship in 1214–1215.[577] He had,
however, received another token of John’s confidence; he had been
entrusted with the education of John’s heir. We have seen that in October,
1216, the Earl Marshal, with the assent of the other loyal barons, bestowed
on Peter the important charge of the little King’s person, expressly on the
ground that he had already been the child’s “master” and proved himself “a
very good” one, who had “brought him up carefully and well.” As Henry
was but just nine years old when these words were spoken,[578] we must
infer from them that he had been under Peter’s care from a very tender age.
Probably John had placed him in the bishop’s household as early as it was
possible to do so, somewhat as Henry II had placed his eldest son, when
quite a young child, in the household of Thomas the Chancellor.[579] The
Marshal and the magnates did only what was natural and right when they
replaced their young sovereign under the charge of his former tutor. The
commission which Peter received from them, however, involved more than
the boy’s education; it expressly included the responsibility for his personal
safety. The man to whom was confided a charge so weighty as this
obviously needed no official title to vindicate for him a prominent place
among the counsellors by whose advice England was to be governed in his
royal pupil’s name; and the active and versatile Southerner, experienced and
efficient alike in matters of war, of administration, of finance, and of well-
nigh every kind of public business, secular and ecclesiastical, was a
colleague whose help the official governors of the realm would have been
foolish indeed to reject or undervalue on the score of his foreign birth. They
and he seem to have worked together without perceptible friction
throughout the regency of the Marshal. The sharp words which passed
between Peter and the regent shortly before the latter’s death, and Peter’s
unseemly behaviour to the younger Marshal and the Legate next day,
probably resulted from a misunderstanding on the part of the bishop. He
evidently thought that the proposal to appoint a new “guardian of King and
Kingdom” and the symbolical delivery of the King into the hands of
Pandulf were meant to deprive himself of his precious charge. There was,
however, no such intention. Pandulf gave Peter the rebuke which his
violence deserved, but immediately replaced Henry under his care.[580]
For the first six months of Pandulf’s regency the 1218–1219
chronicles are blank, so far as the internal history of

England is concerned. Throughout those months, however, one man was
openly setting the government at defiance. In December, 1216, the royal
castles of Rockingham and Sauvey, with the important 1216
Forest jurisdictions attached to them,[581] had been
committed by the Earl Marshal to the custody of William de Fors, the titular
Count of Aumale[582] (or “Albemarle,” as it seems to have been commonly
called in England), “that he might dwell in them with his men until his own
lands, which the King’s enemies had occupied during the war, should be
restored to him.”[583] The actual custodian of Sauvey, Geoffrey de Serland,
was apparently somewhat unwilling to hand the place over to the young
count;[584] and as Geoffrey’s loyalty is unquestioned, his reluctance was
probably caused by some doubts either of William’s loyalty, or of his fitness
for the charge of such an important post. If so, these doubts were well
founded. On 11th February, 1218, William, having 1218
received restitution of his own lands, was bidden to
deliver up Rockingham and Sauvey to another custodian.[585] This order
was not obeyed; and a contemporary writer asserts that the Earl Marshal
before his death “greatly repented” of having put these castles into the
young count’s hands, “because of the complaints which arose out of the ill-
doings of the said count and his officers who dwelt there and wrought
serious injuries to the people of the district, both rich and poor.”[586] For
some unexplained reason, however, no further steps seem to have been
taken in the matter till six months after the Marshal’s death. Then, on 30th
November, 1219, a lengthy indictment against Aumale 1219
was issued in the form of letters patent to the barons,
knights, and freeholders of the five counties—Lancashire, Lincolnshire,
Cumberland, Rutland, Leicestershire, and Yorkshire—in which the bulk of
his possessions lay. Count William was not only detaining, against the royal
will and command, certain lands and castles of the King’s which had been
placed in his charge (to wit, Rockingham and Sauvey), but was also
fortifying and victualling them in the King’s defiance, although a day had
actually been set—“to which he paid no heed”—for him to surrender them
to the King in person. He was also holding tournaments; more especially he
had lately held and attended one at Brackley, contrary to the King’s express
orders, and regardless of a sentence of excommunication passed upon him
by the Legate. He was therefore to be avoided as an excommunicate and a

rebel; the persons addressed were warned, on pain of condign punishment,
not to assist him in fortifying Sauvey, but to be ready to take action against
him in whatever way they should be directed by future letters from the
King; and the sheriffs of the five counties were ordered to proclaim him
excommunicate.[587] Strangely enough, neither in record nor chronicle do
we find any further mention of William of Aumale till the following April,
when an order addressed to him for forty bucks to be sent 1220
to the King at Westminster shows that he was again
recognized as warden of a royal Forest, which can only have been that of
Rockingham or Sauvey;[588] and his next appearance is in the middle of
June, when he was one of the sureties for King Henry’s fulfilment of a
treaty with the King of Scots.[589] He seems to have been absolved on
condition of taking the Cross[590] and of surrendering the castles and setting
forth on his crusade within a given period. Such an arrangement would
serve, for the time being, the purposes of Count and Legate alike. William
remained in possession; Pandulf avoided, or at least staved off for a while,
the responsibility of taking forcible measures against a man whom the
Marshal had apparently deemed it prudent to treat with forbearance.
A like forbearance was exercised towards the Justiciar 1220
of Ireland, Geoffrey de Marsh. Shortly before the
Marshal’s death Geoffrey appears to have announced his intention of going
on Crusade; and the Council seized the opportunity thus 1219
afforded them to insist that before he went, he must come
to England to perform his homage to the King, and confer with them
touching the state of affairs in Ireland. For this purpose they gave him on
23rd April a safe-conduct till All Saints’ day; and they arranged that during
his absence from Ireland the Archbishop of Dublin, who had been his
colleague in the office of Justiciar during the past twelve months, should
take sole charge of the March.[591] The Archbishop was himself anxious to
go to England for an interview with the King; and as Geoffrey delayed his
departure, he at length wrote and asked permission to do so.[592] His request
seems to have crossed with some royal letters issued on 22nd September,
ordering that his appointment as chief Justiciar should take effect from
Candlemas next, and that by that date Geoffrey should be in England
without fail;[593] and this order Geoffrey was just preparing to obey when it
was followed by a warm assent to the Archbishop’s proposed visit, which

the King’s advisers said “would be most welcome for many reasons.” On
this Geoffrey was disposed to make the Archbishop’s impending departure
from Ireland a reason for again deferring his own; the Archbishop, however,
besought the King not to let him do so, but to bid him “commit the custody
of the land, according as the Council may provide, to some other man.”[594]
The Archbishop was certainly in England in the summer of 1220; but there
is no sign of Geoffrey’s presence there at Candlemas. Summoned again, this
time to meet the King and Council at Nottingham on 1st June, he at last
came over, but was unavoidably prevented from being at Nottingham on the
appointed day, and begged that a later date might be fixed on which he
might “lay before the King and council the affairs of the King’s land in
Ireland, and”—thus he wrote to his “very dear friend” Hubert de Burgh
—“they may be settled by the counsel of yourself and other of the King’s
faithful men and of our friends.”[595]
The settlement took the form of a convention between the King and
Geoffrey, drawn up at Oxford on 11th August, in presence of the Legate and
the Archbishop of Dublin, as well as Peter des Roches, Hubert de Burgh,
and other members of the royal council. The Justiciar is in future to answer
at the King’s Exchequer in Dublin for escheats, wards, fines, gifts, tallages,
reliefs, and aids, from Ireland; and the proceeds of all these, after they have
been accounted for at the Exchequer, are to be rendered to the King at his
command. Out of the assessed revenue of Ireland, and its “reasonable
perquisites” other than those above mentioned, the Justiciar is to maintain
the garrisons of the King’s land and castles in Ireland; the garrisons to be
such as shall be determined by the advice of Archbishop Henry, Thomas
FitzAdam, and Richard de Burgh. The surplus of these revenues and
perquisites shall be accounted for at the Dublin Exchequer by the view of
these three persons; and clerks of the King, appointed for the purpose, shall
keep a counter-roll of all these things. The Justiciar shall appoint as
constables of the King’s castles loyal and fit men who shall swear to keep
the castles faithfully and safely for the King, so that in case of the
Justiciar’s capture, or death, or misconduct, the castles shall be safe; and
these constables shall give hostages for their fidelity to the Archbishop of
Dublin and the Earl Marshal, and shall also send to the King, through the
Archbishop, charters of fealty. The Justiciar gave his two sons as hostages;
the Earl Marshal stood pledge for him; and he himself further pledged the

whole of his lands, to fall in to the King and the Marshal respectively (he
held some of each), in case of his failure to keep faith. He also took an oath
to keep all these promises, on pain of being excommunicated by the
Archbishop of Dublin in case of breaking them; and as he had left his seal
in Ireland for legal purposes there, this writing was at his request sealed
with the seals of his brother William and of the Archbishop of Dublin, until
he, Geoffrey, could put his own seal to it.[596]
From this document it must be inferred that nothing worse than
mismanagement was proved against Geoffrey. His mismanagement
however had clearly reached a point at which any sovereign of full age, and
in a position to enforce his commands, would have put an end to it by
summarily dismissing Geoffrey from his office. But the guardians of Henry
III knew that they were not in a position to enforce the dismissal of the
Justiciar whom Henry’s father had left in charge of the March in Ireland.
Geoffrey was not willing to resign because he was not prepared to render an
account of his stewardship. If they issued a direct order for his supersession
it was highly probable that he would set them and their order at defiance,
and that he would be supported in his defiance by the wardens of the royal
castles who owed their appointments to him. Henry could not go, as John
had gone, with an armed force at his back, to settle matters in Ireland for
himself; nor could anyone in England be sent to do so in his stead. Should
force be needed to subdue Geoffrey, the task of subduing him could only be
committed to some of the barons of the March; and to commit it to any of
these would be to plunge the whole March into a civil war which might
result in the complete destruction of the King’s authority there. The case
against Geoffrey was clearly not strong enough to justify Pandulf and his
colleagues in taking measures which involved such a risk. The course which
they took in giving Geoffrey another chance of redeeming his errors, while
hedging him round with the strongest moral restraints that could be devised
to prevent a repetition of those errors, was at once more politic and more
just.
Pandulf’s most congenial sphere of action was diplomacy; and at the
outset of his legatine career he was called upon to exercise his diplomatic
gifts on a readjustment of the relations between the Kings of England and
Scotland. In 1218 Alexander of Scotland—seemingly 1218
with the knowledge and assent of the English

government—sent to the Pope a copy of the treaty which has been made
between his father and John in 1209, and requested that Honorius would by
his apostolic authority either confirm or annull it, as should seem to him
best. Honorius committed the decision of the matter to Pandulf,[597] who
was then on his way to England. Pandulf, after studying Nov.
the text of the document,[598] appointed a day for a
formal discussion of the questions at issue between the 1219
parties, in his presence, at Norham on 2nd August, 1219.
[599]
Alexander appeared in person; Henry was represented by a proctor.
The discussion ended in an agreement that on the morrow of All Souls’ day
another meeting should take place before the Legate, wheresoever he might
be, “to treat concerning peace between the two Kings; and if peace cannot
then be attained, the cause shall be proceeded with according to law.”
Where this second meeting was held we know not, nor by what means
peace was “then attained”; but it certainly was attained: “We are coming
back at once” wrote Pandulf, in the triumph of his successful mediation, to
Peter des Roches, “for, as Stephen de Segrave” (King Henry’s proctor) “and
Master Robert of Arènes may have told you by word of mouth, our lord the
King’s matters with the King of Scotland are by God’s grace now happily
settled.”[600]
What these “matters” were is nowhere stated. Later 1219
indications, however, point to a probability that all these
obscure proceedings resulted in a ratification of the treaty as a whole, but
with a modification of one article. William the Lion had given the wardship
and marriage of his two daughters, Margaret and Isabel, to John, with
fifteen thousand marks which were, seemingly, intended to form their
dowries. The only copy of the treaty of Norham which we possess says
nothing more on the subject than this; but from other sources we have
reason to infer the existence in the original text of a further stipulation, that
the elder girl, Margaret, was to become the wife of John’s heir, or if the boy
should not live long enough, of the next heir, the baby Richard; and also of
a formal surrender, made on the express condition of this marriage, of all
the Scot King’s claims upon Northumberland, Cumberland, and
Westmorland.[601] When this treaty was made, in August 1209, Henry’s age
was one year and ten months; Richard’s was seven months. Margaret of
Scotland was fourteen years old at the least.[602] By 1218 Margaret’s

brother and Henry’s guardians must all alike have begun to feel that this
clause as it stood was doomed to prove impracticable. Henry’s great-
grandfather Geoffrey of Anjou had, indeed, at the age of fifteen, married a
woman ten years older than himself; and the difference of age between
Henry II and Eleanor was probably not much less. But Eleanor was
Duchess of Aquitaine, and Geoffrey’s bride was heiress of Normandy and
England; while Margaret could bring to her husband nothing beyond her
share of the fifteen thousand marks. The guardians of the reigning King of
England might fairly expect to have no difficulty in finding for him in due
time a matrimonial alliance fraught with greater advantages, personal and
political, than were offered by a marriage under these circumstances with a
sister of his own vassal; and Henry himself, when old enough to decide,
was almost certain to repudiate the engagement so lightly made for him by
his father. On the other hand, unless some steps were taken in anticipation
of this contingency, Scotland might find that she had given England fifteen
thousand marks for nothing: the non-fulfilment of this unlucky clause
would invalidate the whole treaty, and might lead to a rupture between the
two countries, which both parties desired to avoid. After Henry’s final
coming of age in 1227, we are told, he had to give the King of Scots two
hundred pounds worth of land for the quit-claim of the three northern
counties, “because the former agreements[603] were not observed”—that is,
because Henry had not married Margaret.[604] This compensation for his
failure to marry her may have been agreed upon between the two Kings
when she was betrothed to Hubert de Burgh in 1220 or 1221. Possibly,
however, and even more probably, it may have been settled in Pandulf’s
presence in November, 1219.
From Scotland the Legate turned to Wales. Throughout the winter of
1219–1220 he was in the west of England, negotiating with Llywelyn for
the settlement of a dispute between the Welsh prince and Hugh de Mortimer
about certain manors on the Welsh border.[605] On 2nd December Llywelyn
was invited, or summoned, to meet the Legate at Worcester to discuss the
matter on 7th January, 1220.[606] The King’s letter, however, contained a
summons to answer complaints as well as to make them; and it may have
been for this reason that Llywelyn was unwilling to obey it. At his request
Pandulf postponed the meeting till the octave of Candlemas.[607] It seems to
have had a successful result thus far, that Llywelyn was 1220

induced to refrain from open hostilities throughout the spring. On Rogation
Monday, 4 May, he met the King, the Legate, the Archbishop of Canterbury,
the Bishop of Winchester, and the Justiciar, in conference at Shrewsbury,
[608]
and gave what was understood on the English side as a promise that he
would surrender the lands in dispute between himself and Hugh de
Mortimer.[609] An attempt was also made to check the perennial strife
between the men of the Welsh prince and those of the English Earl in
Pembroke, by a truce on the understanding that the Marshal and the other
Marcher lords “should be restored to their rights” before 1st August.[610] On
the strength of these promises David, Llywelyn’s eldest son by Joan, was
formally taken under the King’s protection, and the subject princes of Wales
were bidden in the King’s name to be loyal to both Llywelyn and David.
[611]

From Shrewsbury King, Legate, and council hastened 1220
to London for an important public ceremony. Early in
April the Legate and the Primate had received letters from the Pope
ordering that Henry “should be a second time raised to the office of king,
with due solemnity, according to the custom of the realm; because his first
coronation, on account of the disturbed condition of his realm, had been
performed less solemnly than was right and fitting, and in another place
than that which the usage of the kingdom required.” This, of course, meant
that the boy was to be re-crowned at Westminster, and by the Archbishop of
Canterbury. Stephen was delighted, “for he loved the King dearly on
account of his innocency.” He and Pandulf agreed that the ceremony should
take place on Whit-Sunday, 17th May, and all the prelates and nobles were
summoned to be present.[612] On the preceding day the young King himself
had another solemn function to perform. Henry came of a family who for
two hundred years past had been known as “great builders”; he was a lad of
refined, artistic temperament, as well as of a pious disposition; and it seems
that he had already undertaken the work which was to be the great
architectural glory of his reign, the rebuilding of the abbey church of
Westminster. On Whitsun Eve he laid the first stone of the new Lady
Chapel.[613] Next morning for the last time a king was crowned in the old
church of S. Edward the Confessor. In Pandulf’s presence Henry renewed
under the dictation of Archbishop Stephen the oath which he had sworn in
Gualo’s presence at Gloucester—to protect the Church of God, and to

preserve inviolate the peace of both clergy and people and the good laws of
the realm; then the Archbishop placed in his hands the insignia of the regal
office, and set upon his head “the crown of the most holy King Edward.”
“And this crowning of the King was done with such great peacefulness and
splendour, that the oldest men among the nobles of England who were
present asserted that they never remembered any of his predecessors being
crowned amid such concord and tranquillity.”[614]
Concord and tranquillity did indeed, to all outward 1205–1208
seeming, reign at that moment over all the dominions of
the English Crown, except the Duchy of Aquitaine. One of the most
difficult of the many difficult problems with which the regency had to deal
was the problem of how to retain Poitou and Gascony for Henry. The
heritage of his grandmother Eleanor had descended to him almost complete.
Philip Augustus had never made any attempt to conquer Gascony; he had
seized Poitou, but the greater part of it had been regained by John in 1214
and left in his possession by the terms of the truce with which the war
between him and Philip had ended. John’s seneschal in Gascony at that time
was one of his chamberlains, Geoffrey de Neville[615]; another chamberlain
—Hubert de Burgh—soon became seneschal of Poitou.[616] At the end of
the year 1214 or the beginning of the next Geoffrey de Neville was
succeeded by a baron of Saintonge, Reginald de Pons;[617] in June 1215
Hubert de Burgh became Justiciar of England; before that year closed, the
seneschalship of Poitou was united with that of Gascony in the hands of
Reginald[618]; and thenceforth the two offices were always granted together
and became practically one. Reginald resigned it a few months after John’s
death, and was succeeded by Archbishop William of Bordeaux.[619] A year
later William gave it up likewise, and in May 1218 Geoffrey de Neville was
again sent across the sea to be Seneschal of Poitou and Gascony.[620]
Reginald and William had resigned ostensibly for the same reason—
because they wanted to go to the Holy Land. Possibly the layman and the
prelate may both of them have been glad of an excuse for ridding
themselves of an extremely disagreeable office. The loyalty—such as it was
—of Poitou and Gascony to the English Crown was of very recent growth;
it had sprung up since the expulsion of the Angevins from their other
continental dominions. The one persistent political aim of the men of the
South was to escape as much as possible from all external control, no

matter whence it came. Their land was full of thriving cities and towns,
each with a highly developed administrative organization of its own, almost
like so many miniature republics; and of high-spirited, hot-tempered barons
who were perpetually quarrelling among themselves. Moreover, towns and
barons were mutually jealous of one another; and all were alike jealous of
any interference with their respective privileges, corporate or individual, on
the part of a higher power. They were also all alike shrewd enough to see
that their chances of independence were greater under the rule of a
sovereign beyond the sea than under the direct rule of the King of France.
But they were also, all alike, fully alive to the advantages of their position
between two rival overlords; and the possibility of some turn in Aquitanian
politics which might furnish a plea, an excuse, or a temptation for French
intervention was a danger never absent from the minds of Henry’s
counsellors in their dealings with his transmarine dominions.
Besides Poitou and Gascony, the Duchy of Aquitaine included four
counties whose rulers owed homage and obedience to the Duke as their
suzerain: Angoulême, La Marche, Limoges, and Périgord. Two of these
stood, during the early years of the thirteenth century, in relations to each
other and to their common overlord which gave them a special importance
in the politics of the Duchy. The county of Angoulême was the heritage of
Queen Isabel, John’s wife and Henry’s mother. La Marche belonged to
Hugh of Lusignan, to whose eldest son Isabel had been betrothed in her
infancy, under whose care she had been brought up, and from whose house
her own father had literally stolen her, a child scarce twelve years old, to
marry her to the King of England. Between the houses of 1200
Lusignan and of Anjou there was already, even at that
date, a smouldering feud of some years’ standing, which this outrage, of
course, aggravated, but which was allayed for a time in 1214 by John’s
promise of little Joan, his eldest daughter by Isabel of 1214
Angoulême, as wife to the younger Hugh in her mother’s
stead. Joan was then four years old. Her bridegroom—known simply as
“Hugh of Lusignan,” his father being Hugh, Count of La Marche—was a
young man in the prime of life,[621] gifted with an ample share of the
stirring, ambitious, acquisitive spirit which characterized his race. That race
was famous alike in legend and in history, and had reached the height of its
greatness within the lifetime of the reigning count of La Marche, two of

whose brothers had been crowned and anointed Kings.[622] Another brother,
Ralf, was in right of his wife count of Eu in Normandy and owner of some
lands in England. In 1218 the elder Hugh went to the 1218
Crusade; and thus when Geoffrey de Neville took up the
government of Poitou and Gascony, the younger Hugh was for practical
purposes count of La Marche, and the most important personage in northern
Aquitaine. He and Joan were still only betrothed, not married; but she was
in his custody, and he was officially treated as “brother” to King Henry; he
had claims against the English Crown respecting certain lands which John
had promised to him at his betrothal;[623] and when his uncle Ralf of Eu
died childless in the spring of 1219, he seems to have 1219
also—no doubt on behalf of his father—laid claim to
Ralf’s estates, and taken a high-handed method of enforcing his demand, by
picking a quarrel with the King’s town of Niort. Geoffrey de Neville tried to
mediate, and promised to procure him satisfaction for any complaint that he
might have against the town, “but,” writes Geoffrey to the King, “he
answered that he would not cease from infesting your land for us or for
anybody else.” Geoffrey had now been seneschal for a year, and was
confessedly at his wit’s end and eager to be rid of an office in which he
foresaw nothing but failure and disgrace. “He”—that is, Hugh—“and others
can see how poor we are both in men and money.” “We greatly fear that
unless speedy and effectual counsel be taken for the defence of your land,
the said Hugh and the magnates will usurp it, and it will pass to the rule of a
stranger. And we do you to wit that unless you take strong measures for its
defence, we (Geoffrey) intend to set out for Holy Land on Midsummer day,
for we will on no account stay here to your and our own damage and
disgrace; because the said Hugh has let us know that he will not cease from
molesting you until you give up the English lands of the count of Eu. For
the love of God, write back quickly what you wish us to do.”[624]
Apparently the answer to this letter was an order to remain at his post; and
he did so, though complaining bitterly of the impossibility of the task laid
upon him. “We have already urged you,” he writes again, “to take some
counsel for the defence of your land of Poitou and Gascony, not so much
against the King of France as against your own barons, who ravage your
land and capture and put to ransom your townsfolk, and behave themselves
towards your men in such fashion that it appears, and we believe, they are
not well affected to your service. We, by reason of our poverty, cannot

defend the land, nor subdue them; and they make no more account of me
than if I were a foot-boy. Wherefore we do you to wit that unless you take
other counsel without delay, you will soon see us in England. And do not
say that the King’s land is lost through us; you are casting it away
yourselves for lack of counsel.”[625]
At this juncture a new complication arose. Queen 1218–1219
Isabel had in 1218 returned to her own county of
Angoulême, received in its capital city the homage of its barons, and taken
its government into her own hands.[626] She had some trouble at the outset
with Reginald of Pons, the ex-seneschal of Poitou, who seems to have
owned some castles in the Angoumois, and for some unexplained reason
held them against her, but was soon overcome by her superior forces.[627] A
matter of more consequence was her quarrel with Bartholomew of Puy. In
the early part of John’s reign Bartholomew had been provost, or mayor, of
the city of Angoulême;[628] from July, 1214,[629] if not earlier, he was
seneschal of the county for John, and after John’s death for Henry. Isabel
was minded to govern for herself; rightly or wrongly, she asserted that
Bartholomew was plotting mischief against her with some of the Poitevin
barons, especially Ralf de Lusignan the count of Eu, and also with the King
of France; she therefore deprived him of his office and all his possessions,
and made him give her his two sons as hostages. Bartholomew, apparently,
appealed to the English government and the new seneschal of Aquitaine,
and fled for shelter to Hugh de Lusignan.[630] Just then 1219
Hugh and the seneschal had suddenly become friends.
Geoffrey wanted to go to England, but he was so absolutely penniless that
on reaching La Rochelle he found it impossible to proceed any further, or
even to leave the city,[631] till a loan of a hundred and sixty marks from
some local merchants was negotiated for him by Hugh de Lusignan, who
offered himself as surety for its repayment by the English government. This
simple but timely stroke of policy made Hugh master of the situation in
Aquitaine. The letters in which he and Geoffrey notified the transaction to
King and Council were carried to England by Bartholomew of Puy.
Geoffrey excused his acceptance of Hugh’s help on the plea that “the
trouble in your land is so great that ruin would have followed if I had
withdrawn”; Hugh modestly remarked that “your land of Poitou was greatly
disturbed, but by God’s grace we have put it into a better state.” Both

requested that the money should be given to Bartholomew in the presence
of Ralf of Saint-Samson, who accompanied him, and who “knew that these
things were true”; and Geoffrey added a warning—“If it be not paid, and if
Sir Hugh should be compelled to pay it for me, you will never again find
anybody who will make any loan to your order or to you.”[632]
The Council perceived that the only thing to do with 1219
Sir Hugh was to make a friend of him, if possible, by
enlisting him as a sort of unofficial colleague to the luckless seneschal. In
July Bartholomew of Puy came back, in the character of “the King’s
messenger.”[633] He seems to have brought letters from the King and
Council to Isabel, directing her to reinstate him in his property. Almost at
the same time negotiations were set on foot in the King’s name for a loan of
a thousand marks from the mayor and citizens of La Rochelle, and another
thousand from those of Bordeaux, “to be used and expended by the hands
of our very dear brother, Hugh of Lusignan, in defence of our land, if it
should be needful.”[634] The possible danger against which it was thought
that defence might be needed was an attack from Louis of France. He had
been for some months past in the county of Toulouse, fighting against the
Albigensians, and some of Henry’s subjects in Aquitaine feared that the
French host, when its work at Toulouse was done, might be used against
their sovereign and themselves.[635] These suspicions of Louis were,
however, without justification. There is not the least indication that Louis
ever thought of using, or allowing his followers to use, the opportunity
which certainly lay within his reach for intervening at this time in the
troubles of Poitou and Gascony. The truce between France and England,
however, was now within nine months of its term;[636] and Pandulf was
growing very anxious to secure its prolongation. In September a month’s
safe-conduct was given to some envoys from the King of France to come
over and discuss this matter.[637] In January, 1220, the 1220
Legate wrote urgently from the west of England, where
he was detained by his negotiations with Llywelyn, to the Bishop of
Winchester and the Justiciar, begging them to send some trusty messenger,
“secretly, privately, and without delay,” to ask Philip for a renewal of the
truce; he himself drafted for them a letter such as he deemed advisable for
the envoy to convey; and he impressed upon his colleagues the importance
of taking the matter in hand at once and insisting upon a decisive answer

from the French King.[638] Three envoys were accordingly despatched on
26th January;[639] and on 3rd March the truce was renewed for four years
from the ensuing Easter.[640]
Hugh of Lusignan meanwhile had thrown himself at 1220
once into his new part, posing as the zealous protector of 1219
the interests and loyal executor of the mandates of his
little “brother,” even in opposition to the Queen-mother, who complained
bitterly to Pandulf of the “maintenance” which Hugh and Geoffrey de
Neville, acting under instructions from the royal Council, afforded to
Bartholomew of Puy against her.[641] In August, 1219, the countess of Eu
went to England, to claim her share of her late husband’s possessions there.
As she was a kinswoman of the Earl of Warren and a niece of the Justiciar,
a conflict between her claims and those of her husband’s brother bade fair
to stir up a good deal of trouble.[642] By the middle of November
Bartholomew of Puy seems to have been in England again;[643] and before
that time Geoffrey de Neville was there also.[644] Geoffrey appears to have
left Poitou and Gascony under the charge of a knight named William
Gauler, who presently wrote a pathetic letter to Hubert de Burgh,
complaining that he had been left without any revenues save those of the
ports, which were only worth fifty pounds, “for all the affairs of the
Poitevins and of Bordeaux”; moreover, his friends were telling him that the
King had ordered him to be arrested, he knew not why. With strong
protestations of loyalty William declared himself ready to settle his
accounts, “willingly and truthfully,” with any one whom Hubert might send
to Gascony as seneschal, “whether it were the chamberlain or some other
man.” “Gascony,” he added, “is in a good condition up to the present; but I
greatly fear it will quickly fall back into worse ways unless you send us
good counsel and reinforcements.”[645]
Meanwhile the towns were protesting their loyalty, and 1219–1220
complaining of one another, and also of the intrigues of
the French party and the lawless doings of the local barons.[646] About this
last grievance they grew more clamorous than ever in the winter of 1219–
1220. “The King’s burghers” of La Rochelle, Niort, and S. Jean d’Angély
lived in perpetual terror of the lord of Parthenay, William Larchevêque, who
with the lord of Rancon “and with the consent of others whom we will not

at present name,” persecuted them “daily and unceasingly.” “He seizes your
burghers and holds them to ransom; he carries off their beasts of burden,”
wrote the mayor and commune of Niort. “He has put out the eyes of the
bearer of this letter, and those of two other men, without any offence or
fault of theirs, and though they were not even on his land when he captured
them. And all this evil he does to us, so he declares, because of a hundred
marks of silver which the late King promised him, and on account of a
certain traitor whom you, Sir Hubert de Burgh, hanged when you were our
seneschal.” With one voice the towns entreated that an efficient governor
might be sent into Poitou ; and they gave it clearly to be 1220 (March)
understood that they did not want Geoffrey de Neville
back again. “Our former governors have been somewhat slack in their
dealings with your enemies.” “When Sir Geoffrey was here, he could not
protect us; he was not sufficient for these things, nor for other things either.
If he were here now, he would be of no use. Send us some one more useful,
more competent to manage this country, and to provide for the welfare of its
people and uphold the rights and interests of the Crown.”[647]
The task of selection devolved upon Hubert de Burgh. 1220
Pandulf, a total stranger to Aquitaine and its affairs,
seems to have declined to take any part in the matter beyond promising to
ratify Hubert’s choice, on whomsoever it might fall.[648] Hubert was the one
man then in England who knew by experience what were the most essential
qualifications for the vacant post. Before he could find a man to his mind,
however, another sudden change occurred in the political situation. In
February or March, 1220, tidings came from Damietta that the count of La
Marche was dead;[649] and before the middle of May Isabel of Angoulême
wrote a startling announcement to her son. “We do you to wit that the
counts of La Marche and Eu[650] being both dead, Sir Hugh de Lusignan
was left, as it were, alone and without an heir, and his friends would not
allow him to marry our daughter on account of her tender age, but
counselled him to make such a marriage that he might speedily have an
heir; and it was proposed that he should take a wife in France; which if he
should do, all your land in Poitou and Gascony, and ours too, would be lost.
We therefore, seeing the great danger that might arise if such a marriage
should take place, and getting no support from your counsellors, have taken
the said Hugh count of La Marche to be our lord and husband.”[651]

This letter probably reached England shortly before the coronation; on
22nd May Henry wrote to his step-father, expressing his approval of the
marriage.[652] At the same time he desired Hugh to escort Joan to La
Rochelle and there deliver her to two persons (Ralph Gernon and Joldewin
of Douai) who were charged to take care of her till they received further
orders from England.[653] A new use for the little girl’s hand had already
been devised by the royal Council; they offered it to the young King of
Scots. He was invited to meet Henry at York on 10th June;[654] and there, on
15th June, the treaty of marriage was arranged. Henry pledged himself to
give Joan to Alexander to be his wife, at the ensuing Michaelmas, “if he
could get her”; if he could not, his second sister, Isabel, should be given to
Alexander in her stead, within fifteen days of the time appointed. Henry
also promised that he would either cause Alexander’s two sisters to be
honourably married in England within a year from S. Denys’s day (9th
October), or restore them to their brother within a month after that term
should have expired.[655] All thought of a marriage between Margaret of
Scotland and Henry himself had evidently been given up by mutual
consent.
Henry’s doubts whether he could get his eldest sister back in time for her
to be married at Michaelmas proved well founded. Queen Isabel, when she
announced her own marriage, had assured him that she was ready to let
Joan go home as soon as he liked to send for her. At the same time she had
requested that her own dower-lands, and a sum of three thousand five
hundred marks which she alleged had been bequeathed to her by John,
should be handed over to Hugh;[656] and it soon became apparent that she
and Hugh intended to hold Joan in pledge till this was done. The English
Council, however, were equally determined not to give up the Queen’s
dowry until that of Joan, and Joan herself, were safely restored. On 20th
June letters were written in Henry’s name to the Pope, asking him to bid the
bishops of Saintes and Limoges compel Hugh to restore Joan and her dowry
and right the wrongs which he had done to Henry in other matters;[657] and
also to the cardinals, requesting that they would bring their influence to bear
upon the count of La Marche, who, “regardless of his plighted vow, having
taken our mother to wife instead of our sister, now refuses to give our sister
back to us, wishing by his detention of her to compel us to buy her
back.”[658]

The union of La Marche and Angoulême, instead of making for the peace
and safety of Aquitaine as Isabel had pretended, was in fact no sooner
accomplished than it made matters worse than ever. Hugh openly threatened
the towns and barons who opposed him with a renewal of hostilities, and so
great was their terror that “all the bishops, very many of the barons, and
other good men of the King’s towns of Bordeaux, Niort, La Rochelle, and
S. Jean d’Angély went to him in a body at Angoulême, desiring him that
before he made war upon them he should approach the King and the
Council with reference to the matters in dispute between him and the King.”
The joint efforts of the bishops and of the King’s envoys, who seem to have
arrived in the midst of the colloquy, wrung from Hugh a promise to stay his
hand for a while.[659] But his promises were worthless; and the complaints
of the towns continued to pour in upon Henry’s guardians. To the town of
Niort Hugh had granted a truce of seven weeks; “but,” wrote the mayor and
commune, “as we had no security except his word, we put it to Sir William
Maingo the younger whether he would keep us safe, so far as he and his
men were concerned, and maintain the truce. He wrote back to us that if we
would render to him one hundred marks a year, which King John had
promised him, he would keep us in safety; otherwise we must guard
ourselves against him and his men; and he has already done us some injury.
We likewise sent letters to Sir William Larchevêque, that he might certify
us whether he would keep the truce or not. And he wrote back that he would
not keep the truce, but would do us all the evil and damage that he could;
and he is oppressing us so that we dare not get our harvest in; and he sets
traps for us daily, and so do many others”—Hugh’s own men-at-arms
among the number.[660] “When the truce was begun between us and the
count of La Marche,” they write again, “the count by one of his knights
declared us deprived of all rights within his fiefs”; he and his men were
guarding all the roads so that neither corn, nor wine, nor wood, nor any
necessaries could be got into the city, “and what is your own property he
declares to be of his fee.” Again “with tears” they implored Henry to send
them such a governor as should extricate them and all Poitou from these
perils.[661]
The men of Bordeaux on the other hand were urgent that Hugh should be
appeased. “He has promised,” they wrote, “to maintain and defend the
towns, from himself and his, and all other living men, faithfully to the

utmost of his power, for your benefit and honour. And since his defence and
maintenance is, above that of all others, most useful and necessary to your
faithful men of Poitou, and molestation from him is equally perilous and
injurious to them, we entreat your royal majesty, by every means we can, to
take such counsel that a man of such importance, such a useful defender of
your land, and so pious and humble a protector of peace and tranquillity,
may not through any other’s fault withdraw from your service; for he has
promised that so long as he lives he will, unless you give him cause to do
otherwise, remain faithfully in your service against all men living. All these
things,” they add, “have been communicated to us by the good men of La
Rochelle.”[662] But meanwhile the good men of La Rochelle had learned
something of the value of Hugh’s fine promises. Threatened by him with
“all the harm that he could do” to them, surrounded by enemies who
persecuted them for their loyalty, and without any protector save the Bishop
of Saintes, they again pleaded—as did also the men of Bordeaux[663]—for
the appointment of an efficient seneschal: “Send us quickly a strong man,
who will bring back the barons to allegiance, and with their aid rout the
enemies and restore the royal authority.”[664] A rumour that the King was
about to make the viscount of Thouars seneschal of Poitou struck panic into
Niort. “God forbid it! for the viscount is our mortal foe, and in your father’s
time, with the counsel of the King of France, he did us all the evil that he
could. As you love your land of Poitou, and us, and your own honour, we
beseech you on no account to venture on making him seneschal; moreover,
make not anyone from these parts seneschal of Poitou. If you do, they will
take your land for their own advantage, as much as they can, as some did in
your father’s time. And we and the other faithful men shall have to go out of
your land, unless you take diligent care and good counsel in this business.
May it therefore please your excellency to send some noble, discreet, wise,
and powerful man from the parts of England, to be your seneschal—such a
man as will know how to deal with your affairs in Poitou, and be able to
hold your land.”[665] Another rumour—this time in England—as to the
Council’s intentions with respect to the vacant office drew forth a trenchant
protest from Earl William of Salisbury. “I am given to understand,” he
writes to Pandulf, “that you, together with the King’s Council, proposed to
send the count of Aumale into Poitou to keep the land. And as it seems to
me that the count is less obedient than he should be to the King’s
commands concerning the things which he holds in England, which are

small, I doubt he would be less obedient still if he had the seneschalship and
government of Poitou which is a great thing. And therefore I give notice to
your holiness that you will in no wise commit the custody of that land to
him by my counsel or assent.”[666]
Oddly enough, the man finally chosen by Hubert was Philip of Ulecote,
who also had given the government some trouble about the restitution of a
castle to its rightful owner.[667] When the choice was at last made, in
August, some difficulty arose before it could be carried into effect; the
sequel suggests that Philip’s state of health may have been the obstacle. “I
never felt any confidence,” wrote Pandulf to Hubert on 25th August, “that
Philip should go there; though you seemed mighty certain about the matter,
rambling over seas and mountains in quest of things that are not to be had.”
In a more serious strain he warned the Justiciar that some decision must be
made at once. “You must provide for that country, which plainly appears to
be perishing through the fault of the King’s Council. The matter has been
already shamefully delayed, and I greatly fear lest grave damage should
come of it.”[668] In the middle of September Philip of Ulecote was formally
appointed seneschal of Poitou,[669] and went across the sea.
Pandulf and Peter des Roches, meanwhile, had enlisted the services of
the Dean of Poitiers, who visited England in August, to negotiate with Hugh
of La Marche for a truce.[670] A carucage “for our great needs, most urgent
debts, and the preservation of our land of Poitou” had been agreed upon in a
council at Oxford on 9th August.[671] Negotiations with the communes of
La Rochelle and Bordeaux for a loan “for the safe keeping of Poitou and
Gascony” were begun in September.[672] These two towns, with Niort and
S. Jean d’Angély, had now resolved upon sending representatives to
England to lay their complaints before the Council; the Preceptor of the
Temple, Gerard Brochard, at their request undertook to accompany these
envoys, and begged the Council to give him and them an audience in
London in the week after Michaelmas, “to hear the proposals of the count
of La Marche, and of others, on all sides.” Gerard, it is clear, was in the
confidence of all parties, and he declared positively that if the Council
would listen to him, the damsel Joan would be restored to them in honour
and freedom; “she would have been delivered to me,” he said, “if I would
have stood surety that the King would do to the count what he ought.”[673]

Probably Gerard received in London, and thence transmitted to Hugh, a
formal assurance that Henry would “do what he ought”—in other words,
surrender his mother’s dowry. At the same time the Pope took up the matter;
and a letter from him, on 20th September, threatening that if Hugh did not
within fifteen days after its receipt deliver Joan, together with the city of
Saintes and the Isle of Oléron (which had been pledged to him by John as
security for her dowry) to Henry’s appointed representatives, he should be
excommunicated and his lands placed under interdict,[674] was followed by
Hugh’s submission, so far as the surrender of Joan herself was concerned.
In obedience to an order from England issued on 6th October that he should
either himself bring Joan to England, or deliver her at La Rochelle to
certain persons appointed to receive her there,[675] he set out with the child;
but he fell sick at Oléron, where the Dean of Poitiers and the new seneschal
of Aquitaine, Philip of Ulecote, had been ordered to meet him. The Dean
waited for the seneschal in vain, and at last learned that he was dead.[676] At
the beginning of November Hugh, being too ill to proceed, delivered Joan
to the commissioners—the Dean and two other envoys—who escorted her
to La Rochelle.[677] The term fixed for her marriage was past, but at its
expiration, on 13th October, Henry and Alexander had met again at York,
[678]
and Alexander had evidently consented to wait for her with patience;
he waited in fact till the following Midsummer. Her stepfather, when he
gave her up to Henry’s commissioners, assured them of his intention to go
and perform his homage for La Marche and Angoulême as soon as his
health should permit him.[679] Thus for a few months Aquitaine was—
comparatively—at peace.
Meanwhile, however, the “concord and tranquillity” in England had not
been altogether unbroken. At first glance the Pope’s selection of the spring
of 1220 for the re-crowning of the young King appears unaccountable.
Since the ceremony had not taken place immediately after the Primate’s
return, two years ago, it would have seemed more natural to delay it for
seventeen months longer, till the boy should have reached the completion of
his fourteenth year, the earliest age which could, on any known principle, be
reckoned as that of legal majority. A clue to the purpose for which the
matter was hurried on may possibly be found in certain steps which were
taken immediately after the coronation. On its morrow (18th May) “the
barons who were present swore that they would resign their castles and

wardenships at the will of the King, and would render at the Exchequer a
faithful account of their ferms; and also that if any rebel should resist the
King, and should not make satisfaction within forty days after being
excommunicated by the Legate, they would make war upon him at the
King’s bidding, that the rebel might be disinherited without the option of a
fine.”[680] A week after this, on 26 May, the Pope wrote a letter to Pandulf.
He began by expressing his distress at the reports that reached him of his
royal ward’s extreme poverty; this, he said, was imputed chiefly to the
archbishops, bishops, and other prelates in England, some of whom had
usurped the King’s castles, manors, and other domains, and were detaining
the same “on the frivolous pretext that they wish to keep them safe till the
King should be of age; and so meanwhile the King must be a beggar, while
they run riot, against his will, on what belongs to him.” The Pope therefore
ordered that they should surrender all such castles and lands to the King,
and make restitution of all the proceeds thence derived since the war, and
bade Pandulf enforce their compliance with penalties both spiritual and
temporal. In a second letter, written two days later, Honorius instructed the
Legate not to suffer any man, howsoever faithful or closely attached he
might be to the King, to hold in his custody more than two of the King’s
castles, on pain of ecclesiastical censure without appeal.[681]
From the days of Henry II, if not from a yet earlier time, the Crown had
found it a hard matter to preserve its authority over castles held in private
ownership. Such ownership was limited by the King’s right in three ways.
The owner was bound to allow his castle to be garrisoned by the King’s
own men at the King’s will; to surrender it into the King’s hand if required;
and not to make any addition to its fortifications without the King’s licence.
Against the enforcement of these royal rights the owners of castles had
struggled, with varying success, under Henry II, Richard, and John. The
civil war, and the new conditions under which the powers of the Crown had
to be exercised during the minority of John’s successor, had intensified their
jealousy of all restriction upon their tenure of their fortresses; and a like
spirit of independence began to show itself in some of the wardens of the
King’s own castles, with regard to the fortresses under their charge. The
only important case of this kind, until the latter part of the year 1219, was
that of Count William of Aumale. But between August, 1219, and March,
1220, trouble began to threaten in connexion with two royal fortresses of

not less consequence than Sauvey and Rockingham, and from two men of
far greater political and personal weight than William de Fors.
The combined offices of sheriff of Lincolnshire and warden of Lincoln
castle were hereditary in the family of Haye, represented at this time by the
old Dame Nicolaa, whose capability, courage, and loyalty had never failed
in the service of John and his heir throughout the last twenty years. Three
days after the battle of Lincoln the city and county had 24 May 1217
been committed to the boy-King’s uncle, William
Longsword Earl of Salisbury, to hold during the King’s pleasure.[682] This
grant was probably made with the double purpose of rewarding Longsword
for his share in the victory, and relieving Nicolaa of a burden which she
had, nearly two years before, declared to be too great for her.[683] Five
months later, however, when peace was made, the old lady asked to be
reinstated in her hereditary functions. Her request was granted, and on 31st
October the Earl was bidden to deliver the castle to her and give her seisin
of the sheriffdom without delay; but the latter half of this order seems not to
have been enforced;[684] and at the beginning of December the county “with
all its appurtenances” was again committed to William to hold during the
King’s pleasure.[685] This time, however, the castle did not go with the
shrievalty; for from March, 1218, onwards we find the 1218
former once more, with the full sanction of the Crown,
under the charge of its veteran castellan, Nicolaa.[686] No one seems to have
ventured on molesting her till three months after the death of the old Earl
Marshal. Then, on 23rd August, 1219, “the sheriff of 1219
Lincoln”—no doubt the Earl of Salisbury’s deputy—had
to be sharply told that he was to “maintain, protect, and defend the lands,
goods, and men of our trusty and well-beloved Nicolaa de Haye within his
bailiwick, to cause her no molestation, injury or damage, nor to meddle in
any way with her debts to the Crown, or in any matters concerning her, till
he received orders to do so”; and next day “all the knights and good men”
of the shire were informed that the King had assigned Falkes de Bréauté
(who was sheriff of two shires contiguous to Lincolnshire, those of
Northampton and Rutland) to Dame Nicolaa as her assistant in the defence
of Lincoln castle, “and that they should all efficaciously counsel and assist
Falkes in the King’s business which Falkes would explain to them, for the
preservation of the peace of the realm.”[687] It seems that Falkes, with three

of his knights (and no doubt some attendant men-at-arms), at once took up
his abode in the castle and made it his headquarters for the next nine
months.[688] From a temporary absence in January, 1220, 1220
when he went to meet the King at Northampton, he was
recalled by an urgent message from Nicolaa; and a letter from Falkes
himself to Hubert de Burgh makes it perfectly clear that the danger against
which he was required to protect her was a persistent endeavour of the Earl
of Salisbury, as sheriff of the county, to enter the castle. “But,” wrote
Falkes, “God helping me, with the force at the Dame’s command I will take
good care that he shall not get in.”[689]
William Longsword was a son of Henry II; illegitimate, but always
acknowledged and treated as “the King’s brother” by both Richard and
John, and by Henry as “our beloved uncle.” Richard had given him the
earldom from which he took his title, together with the hand and the great
possessions of Ela, heiress of an earlier line of Earls of Salisbury. He had
done good service to John until the middle of 1216; then he had joined
Louis, but early in 1217 he had returned to the side of little Henry, and had
received back all his forfeited estates, to which in August of the same year
were added the counties of Somerset and Devon.[690] His attempt to
interfere with the rights of a castellan appointed by the King to the
command of a royal castle certainly failed, and was probably abandoned
without any open strife, for there is no sign of any breach in the friendly
relations between the King and his “beloved Uncle William,” to whom the
boy seems to have been really attached. But the mere making of such an
attempt, by a man of such high rank and so closely connected with the
King, was not without grave significance; and it coincided ominously with
another incident of graver significance still.
The castle of Marlborough, like that of Lincoln, 1220
belonged to the Crown. When it fell into the hands of
Louis in 1216 the younger William Marshal, then in arms on Louis’s side,
claimed it as his by right. The chronicler who records this claim mentions
also a claim put forth by William to act as Marshal for Louis in England;
[691]
possibly he may have claimed the wardenship of Marlborough castle as
appertaining to the Marshalcy. The two offices may have been granted
together to his grandfather John FitzGilbert, who was certainly Marshal
under Henry I, and commandant at Marlborough after that King’s death. In

1175–1176 a part of the fine due to the Crown from the heirs of John
FitzGilbert for entering upon their patrimony was remitted in
reimbursement for repairs done to Marlborough castle.[692] At the
coronation of Richard John FitzGilbert’s two elder surviving sons, John and
William, shared between them the functions of Marshal, but the hereditary
character of that office was not explicitly determined till ten years later.
During the greater part of those ten years Marlborough was not a royal
fortress; Richard had given it to his own brother John. John’s accession as
King restored it to its old status; but no reference to its wardenship occurs
in the charter whereby John granted the Marshalcy to William and his heirs
for ever; and the great Earl never was, nor, so far as we can see, claimed to
be custodian of Marlborough castle during John’s lifetime.[693] He certainly
was so, however, from November, 1217, until his death, 1217
[694]
and his eldest son succeeded him in this wardenship.
In March, 1220, Hubert de Burgh informed Pandulf that 1220
Marlborough castle was being fortified—evidently
without instructions from the Crown. Pandulf bade him despatch without
delay “the most stringent letters from the King that could be drawn up,”
ordering the Marshal to stop the work at once, and strictly forbidding all
persons engaged in it, on pain of their bodies, goods, “and even their
inheritance,” to do anything towards fortifying the castle without a special
licence and order from the King.[695] No further letters on the subject appear
to be extant; the information which Hubert had forwarded to Pandulf may
have proved to be incorrect, or the Marshal may have given some
satisfactory explanation. There is, however, an indication elsewhere that he
took upon himself to exercise over the tenants of the castle of Marlborough
more arbitrary authority than he was entitled to assume as custodian of that
fortress for the King.[696] Moreover, there was another matter about which
trouble with him must have been felt to be impending.
Immediately after the younger Marshal’s return to 1217
allegiance, in March, 1217, there had been granted to
him, to hold during the King’s pleasure, the English lands of Earl David of
Huntingdon.[697] The most important part of these lands was the honour of
Huntingdon, which the Scot Kings had inherited from the English wife of
King David of Scotland, which William the Lion had subenfeoffed to his
brother David, and which, with the estates held by David direct of the

English Crown, had now become forfeit to its English overlord because
David and the reigning King of Scots—his nephew Alexander—had
espoused the cause of Louis. A few months later they both submitted to
Henry; Alexander, having performed his homage in December, was granted
seisin of “the lands held of him in England by Earl David”;[698] and in the
following March orders were issued for complete restitution to David
himself of all his English possessions.[699] He seems to have regained them
all except one castle: Fotheringay. In June, 1219, he died, 1219
leaving an heir under age. His fief being an English one,
the right to its custody fell not to its immediate overlord the King of Scots,
but to its lord paramount the King of England; in Henry’s name it was
committed, during his pleasure, to the charge of three knights, and an order
was issued that they should receive full seisin of “the manor of
Fotheringay” from the constable of the castle[700]—that is, the younger
Marshal (now Earl William the second of Pembroke and Striguil), or his
lieutenant there. In October the custody of the honour was transferred to the
King of Scots.[701] But twelve months later Fotheringay 1220
castle was still in the hands of the Earl Marshal; not
because either Henry or Alexander had authorized him to retain it, but
because he was, for some reason or other, unwilling to give it up, and to
make him do so against his will was, as things then stood, practically
impossible. He was the eldest son of the late regent. He was the most
intimate friend of the Earl of Salisbury. On him, as Earl of Striguil, the
security of the Welsh March chiefly depended; as heir of his mother, Isabel
of Leinster, he was the mightiest baron of the English March in Ireland; and
as heir to the lands which had belonged to his parents in Normandy, he
could at any moment put himself in touch with Philip of France. In private
life he seems to have been a man of high character; and since his return to
allegiance, with his friend Salisbury, in 1217, he had, like Salisbury, acted
as a valiant, useful, and faithful adherent of the King. If the Council had
shrunk from taking extreme measures against Aumale, much less could they
proceed to extremities with Salisbury and the Marshal. Yet the example set
by these two men was certain to lead to further mischief unless some steps
were taken to prevent it.
The Earl Marshal was certainly, the Earl of Salisbury 1220
and the count of Aumale were almost certainly, included

among the nobles who were present at the coronation and who next day
took the oath which has been mentioned already.[702] The coronation, the
oath, the Pope’s letters, taken all together, suggest that in the spring of 1220
the Council had invoked the Pope’s assistance to enhance the authority of
the Crown for the special purpose of strengthening the hands of its
guardians in an effort to deal with the whole question of the English castles.
It is, however, very difficult to guess what, or who, can have prompted the
instructions issued to the Legate by the Pope on 26th and 28th May. The
information on which the letter of 26th May purports to be written is shown
by the records to be erroneous. No castle belonging to the King was in the
custody of either of the archbishops; only three were in the custody of any
other prelate. Those three were Porchester, Winchester, and Southampton,
held by Peter des Roches together with the sheriffdom of the county in
which they stood. There is also no indication that either Peter or any other
prelate had ever attempted, or even been (in England) accused or suspected
of attempting, to usurp castles or lands belonging to the Crown, or made
difficulties about restoring any such lands which may have been
temporarily entrusted to him for safe keeping during the war. The second
letter is equally unaccountable; for while the enforcement of the order that
no man should hold more than two royal castles at once would have
deprived Peter of one such wardenship, it would have deprived Hubert de
Burgh of four;[703] and it would have further involved a wholesale
rearrangement not only of the wardenships, but also of the sheriffdoms,
throughout south-eastern England and also in the Midlands, where a still
greater number of royal castles were in the hands of Falkes de Bréauté as
sheriff of seven shires. It is therefore not surprising that no use was made of
these two papal mandates. As no mention of them occurs in the chronicles
of the time, it is most probable that they were never published; Honorius
may have sent with them private instructions authorizing Pandulf to publish
or suppress them at his own discretion. By the time they reached England
the King’s guardians were feeling their way in more wary fashion towards
the end which they had in view.
The King’s journey to meet Alexander of Scotland furnished an
opportunity for a royal progress through some of the castles which lay
between London and York. “The King with his tutors,” says the Barnwell
annalist, “perambulated his realm, to know whether those whom his father

had made custodians of fortresses in England were minded to give up those
fortresses quietly to himself as their lord.”[704] From York he went by way
of Pontefract to Nottingham, thence to Leicester, and thence to
Northampton. When he reached Rockingham, however, on 25th or 26th
June,[705] the castle gates were shut against him.[706] William of Aumale had
only ten days before been chosen as one of the King’s sureties for the treaty
with Scotland.[707] He had clearly left the court since then; but he was not in
Rockingham castle, though he was evidently known to be not far away, for
two messengers who were immediately despatched to him with another
royal command for the surrender of Rockingham and Sauvey were ordered
to be back at the hour of prime next morning.[708] They seem to have
returned with a request from Aumale for a safe-conduct to the court.
Meanwhile a military force under Falkes, which had accompanied or
followed the King from Northampton to Rockingham, invested the castle,
[709]
with the ready assistance of the people of the shire, who seem to have
found Aumale a very overbearing and troublesome neighbour. On Sunday,
28th, the garrison “seeing that they were in a strait and had not power to
resist, ignominiously went out and left free entrance to the King.”[710] A
safe-conduct until prime on that Sunday morning had been issued to
Aumale the day before;[711] he had used it, and had made formal surrender
of both Rockingham and Sauvey into the King’s hand.[712] Next day a
notice was issued in the King’s name, stating that Count William had
resigned the custody of these two castles “of his own free will.” The King,
on his side, quit-claimed to the count the ferm received by him from the
manors and other royal demesnes, and the issues of the Forests, attached to
the castles, from the time when the castles were given him in custody to the
day on which he resigned them, and also undertook to obtain from the
Legate permission for the count to postpone the fulfilment of “his vow.”[713]
The letters patent setting forth this agreement were issued on the joint
motion of the Justiciar and the Bishop of Winchester; Pandulf was evidently
absent from the court. There can be no doubt that Aumale’s vow here
referred to was a vow of Crusade, enjoined by Pandulf as the condition of
the count’s release from excommunication at the close of the preceding
year; and we may see in it a reason for the extreme generosity with which
the count was treated. A government whose head was a papal Legate might
make a military demonstration, but could hardly use real force against a

man who wore the Cross. There is, moreover, some probability that the
Council, or some member of it, may have entertained a project of letting
Count William commute his vow for an undertaking which might well be
deemed a penance quite as severe as a crusade—the seneschalship of Poitou
and Gascony. A report to that effect certainly reached the Earl of Salisbury
at some date between December, 1219, and the end of June, 1220.[714] The
report may have been false; but it is quite possible that the project may have
really existed, and by no means clear that it deserved the scorn heaped upon
it by the King’s uncle. The appointment of William de Fors as governor of
Aquitaine would be an excellent expedient for getting him peaceably out of
England; and though troublesome there, he was not without qualifications
for the vacant post over sea. As the son of a Poitevin father he would be
quicker to understand the character of the people, and perhaps more
acceptable to some of them, than a man of pure English blood; at the same
time, his stake in the country was too small[715] to involve him in personal
rivalry with the Aquitanian barons; while as a great English noble he would
be readily welcomed by the towns. In the weeks between the coronation and
the treaty with Scotland the thoughts of Hubert de Burgh, “roaming over
seas and mountains” in search of a governor for Aquitaine and at the same
time haunted by the problem of the English castles, may well have turned—
or may have been turned by Pandulf or Peter—to a possibility of ending the
weary search and winning the resignation of Aumale’s English wardenships
at one stroke; and the agreement with Aumale on S. Peter’s day may have
been made on the basis of some previous negotiations whose completion
the march on Rockingham was intended merely to precipitate. In the face of
Longsword’s protest, however, the project of sending Aumale to Poitou, if
ever seriously entertained, must have been abandoned; and we may see in
its abandonment the reason why Aumale did not receive the licence which
he desired for a further postponement of his crusade. Pandulf seems to have
offered him instead the option of redeeming his vow altogether, doubtless in
the usual way, by a payment of money; but Aumale neither paid nor went.
[716]

The 29th of the ensuing December would be the fiftieth anniversary of
the martyrdom of S. Thomas of Canterbury. For nearly two years
Archbishop Stephen had been preparing to celebrate this jubilee by a
translation of the martyr’s relics from their lowly resting-place in the crypt

of his cathedral church to a chapel behind the high altar, where a
magnificent shrine had been made ready to contain them. The actual
anniversary was anticipated by nearly six months, and the translation took
place on 7th July, amid an immense concourse of clergy and laity not only
from all parts of England, but from lands beyond the sea. A temporary
guest-house, on such a scale that an annalist of the time calls it a “palace”
and declares that he does “not believe its like had been seen since the days
of Solomon,” was erected by the Archbishop for his guests, and therein rich
and poor, home-born and strangers, were entertained with a sumptuous
hospitality which the same writer likens to the banquets of Ahasuerus.[717]
“The barons of England,” also, “did an act of great courtesy; for they
caused proclamation to be made, a great while before the holy body was to
be removed, that no Englishman should lodge in the town, because they
wished that those who came from other countries should find lodging
there”; they themselves took up their quarters—camping out in the fields, it
seems—outside the walls, all except the Earl Marshal, who lodged in the
city that he might take care of the strangers and see that they came to no
harm.[718] Over twenty prelates attended, including, besides the Legate, an
Archbishop from Hungary, and the Archbishop of Reims with three of his
suffragans.[719] With graceful tact Pandulf and Stephen concurred in giving
to the French Primate the foremost place in the religious services of the
occasion; it was he who, at their joint request, on the eve of the translation
dedicated the altar before the shrine and sang the first vespers of the
festival, and who also sang the high Mass on the great day itself.[720]
Among the lay visitors from over sea were the widow of Cœur-de-Lion, the
Count of Dreux, and many French nobles.[721] King Henry was of course
present;[722] and all England shared in the glory of the most famous of
English saints.
Early in August a great council was held at Oxford, mainly, it seems, for
purposes of finance. A carucage of two shillings for every plough “as it was
yoked on the morrow of S. John the Baptist last year, the fourth of our
reign,” was granted to the King by the lay magnates “for his great needs,
and for the preservation of his land of Poitou.” The collection of this impost
was entrusted in every shire to the sheriff and two lawful men who were to
be chosen “by the will and counsel of the whole shire, in full shire-court”;
and it was to be paid into the Temple in London by 30th September.[723]

The prelates made a similar grant on behalf of themselves and all the clergy,
secular and regular, and their tenants; these contributions were to be paid
direct to the Crown without the intervention of the sheriffs or other lay
agents. On this point some confusion arose, and amended instructions were
sent to the sheriffs on 7th September.[724] Another difficulty thwarted the
endeavours of the sheriff of Yorkshire—Geoffrey de Neville—to collect the
“gift” in his shire; at the shire-court held for that purpose on 14th
September none of the magnates appeared, and their bailiffs all alike
declared that “their lords knew nothing about the matter, the magnates of
those parts having never been asked for it by the King either by word of
mouth or by his letters.” Some of them suggested that if the King himself
spoke to the magnates when he came to York (to meet the King of Scots on
13th October), the payments would probably be made without further
trouble. Geoffrey reported the matter to the King’s Council, and asked
whether he should take forcible measures to compel payment.[725] There is
some reason to think that he did so, or tried to do so, and that some of the
Yorkshire barons retaliated at the beginning of the next year by capturing
him and keeping him prisoner for a time.[726] Unluckily we have no record
showing how the dispute was settled; but it is clear that from Yorkshire, at
least, the carucage cannot have been paid in by the morrow of Michaelmas.
The same day was fixed for the returns of an inquest which the sheriffs
were, at the time when the first letters about the carucage were issued (9th
August), ordered to make into the extent and value of the royal demesnes
and escheats in the several shires.[727] No doubt these returns were required
for fiscal purposes. The agreement between the King and Geoffrey de
Marsh, made in the same council at Oxford,[728] was followed on 18th
September by a demand for an aid from Ireland.[729] With all this the Crown
was still deep in debt, to the Pope, to Louis, to Queen Berengaria, to the
Legate;[730] it was in fact only by means of frequent loans from Pandulf that
its current expenses could be met at all.[731]
Two other matters came up for settlement at the Michaelmas session of
the barons of the Exchequer and the justices at Westminster. One of these
was a complaint of the Earl Marshal against the Prince of Wales.
Llywelyn’s promise, or alleged promise, that the wrongs done by him to the
Earl and the other Marcher-lords should be righted by Lammas Day[732]
was not fulfilled; indeed, the truce made in May on the strength of that

promise seems to have been broken as soon as Llywelyn returned from
Shrewsbury to his own country. He asserted that the men of Pembroke
refused to confirm the truce, called in help from Ireland against him, and
harassed the Welsh to such a degree that at last he was obliged to bid his
nephews and his other followers withdraw from the borders of
Pembrokeshire to a safer place.[733] The Marshal, on the other hand,
declared that the Welsh Prince “in no wise kept the terms of the peace, but
brought the King’s dignity into contempt, spurning his own promises and
acting quite contrary to them.” The Marshal complained to the King at
Oxford, and was promised satisfaction—so far as the King could give it—in
London on the morrow of S. Michael.[734] On 21st August the sheriffs of
Gloucester, Hereford, and Worcestershire were ordered to be in readiness to
help, with all the forces of those three shires, whichever of the King’s
liegemen they should find to be the object of an attack for which Llywelyn
was reported to be collecting his forces.[735] It was, however, not against
any place on the border, but against “the Flemings of Rhos and Pembroke”
that Llywelyn, with “most of the princes of Wales” and “a vast army,”
marched on 29th August. He took by assault and burned the castles of
Arberth and Gwys, burned the town of Haverford “to the castle-gate”; “and
thus he went round Rhos and Deugleddyv in five days, making vast
slaughter of the people of the country. And after making a truce with the
Flemings until the kalends of May, he returned back happy and joyful.”[736]
The terms of this truce were humiliating in the extreme; the men of
Pembroke promised that they would give Llywelyn a hundred pounds, that
they would not restore the castles which he had destroyed, and that they
would give him a portion of the Earl’s land “to keep as on behalf of the
King.” All these conditions, however, were to be subject to confirmation by
the King. They seem to have been in fact extorted by means of a false
representation on Llywelyn’s part that his invasion of the Earl’s lands was
sanctioned and supported by the authority of the English Crown.[737] For
the honour of that authority itself, no less than for his own sake, the
Marshal besought the King and his Council to quash the truce, disavow all
complicity in Llywelyn’s raid, and give judgement in favour of himself, at
the time previously appointed, on his former complaint against the Welsh
prince.[738] The judgement was probably given accordingly; on 5th October
the Welsh invasion of Pembroke was disavowed by the King, the truce

quashed,[739] compensation claimed from Llywelyn for the Marshal and the
other Marcher-barons whom he had injured,[740] and two commissioners
despatched to receive from him a surrender of all lands occupied by the
Welsh in England and the Marches.[741]
In all probability, it was as a kind of security for the settlement of this
Welsh business that the Earl Marshal had persisted throughout the summer
in retaining Fotheringay castle. An urgent order for its surrender was
despatched three days after the treaty of York was signed; 18 June
[742]
the restitution of this castle, and of Earl David’s
other lands, being one of the conditions of the treaty. On 11th September the
Marshal was by another royal letter reminded of this fact, and commanded,
on his fealty and his oath to the King, to hand over the said castle and lands
to Alexander without further excuse or delay, “knowing for certain that
unless you give it up, all our business about the marriage will come to
nought.”[743] Hereupon the Marshal wrote to the Justiciar that he would do
his best to promote the advantage of the King and his sister, and would on
the morrow of Michaelmas answer fully to the Council concerning
Fotheringay, and be ready to obey them “in all things that he could and
ought”; at the same time declaring his intention to abstain for the present
from vengeance on Llywelyn, rather than disobey the King and the Legate,
“unless indeed,” he added significantly, “it should—which I do not believe
—afterwards appear that they will not grant me justice.”[744] The Welsh
quarrel being decided in his favour, he seems to have consented to give up
Fotheringay not indeed to King Alexander, but to King Henry; for it was to
a representative of the latter that he was bidden to deliver it on 11th
October.[745] This was two days before the Kings met again at York.[746] It
was probably agreed there that Fotheringay should, to facilitate its recovery
from the Marshal, be temporarily placed in Henry’s hand and entrusted to
the English Justiciar.[747] Hubert’s marriage with Alexander’s sister
Margaret may have been already arranged, and Alexander may have
contemplated giving him the custody of the honour of Huntingdon during
the minority of its heir.[748] It seems, however, that not till 23rd or 24th
November did the Marshal actually deliver up the castle, to one Gregory de
la Tour, who was appointed to have the charge of it,[749] probably as deputy

for Hubert. The troubles of the English government in connexion with it
were not ended even then.
The count of Aumale had surrendered his wardenships; but he still kept
possession of one castle which by a legal decision of the King’s Court,
given four years before, belonged to another man. This was Bytham, in
Lincolnshire. Originally a part of the honour of Holderness, it had been
alienated by the first husband of Aumale’s mother, and was thus at the time
of the war the property of one William de Coleville. This man joined the
rebels, and thereupon his lands were occupied by the count of Aumale, to
whom they were no doubt granted by John. On Coleville’s return to
allegiance in 1217 orders were issued for their 1217
restoration; but two successive letters from the King to
the count failed to procure this,[750] and in November Aumale was
summoned to answer before the King’s Court at Westminster for his
retention of Bytham.[751] The Court adjudged the castle to Coleville;[752] but
somehow Aumale retained possession of it, seemingly without further
question, possibly therefore by private agreement with the rival owner.[753]
In the night of 26th December, 1220, Aumale slipped away without leave
from the Christmas gathering of the court at Oxford, and rode to Bytham.
[754]
There he collected in a few days a force of armed men, and began to
harry the neighbouring townships, carrying off the corn to store it in
Bytham castle, and capturing men whom he imprisoned there and tortured
till they purchased their release. While the terrified country-folk sought
safety for their goods in the churchyards and their persons in the churches,
[755]
he attempted to surprise the castles of Newark, Sleaford, and
Kimbolton, but at each of them met with an ignominious repulse.[756] It
seems that the King’s Council on hearing of these outrages summoned
Aumale to answer for them at Westminster, and that he made a pretence of
intending to obey, and received a safe-conduct for that purpose.[757] Instead
of doing so, however, he suddenly marched to Fotheringay. The responsible
warden of Fotheringay at that moment appears to have been Hubert de
Burgh.[758] But Hubert was in London with the King, and Fotheringay was
garrisoned by a mere handful of knights and men-at-arms. Aumale and his
followers set fire to the gate, scaled the walls, slew two of the garrison, and
captured the rest.[759] The count then returned to Bytham and continued his

depredations.[760] One writer of the time says that he even had the
impudence to send letters to the mayors of the cities of England, telling
them that he had granted to all merchants “his peace, and licence to go
freely to and fro between his castles for the exercise of their business,” “as
if he alone were master in the realm.”[761]

The seizure of Fotheringay probably became known in 1221
London late on January 22nd, or very early next
morning. It seems that a great meeting of the royal Council had been
convened for the 25th, but was held immediately on receipt of the tidings,
in S. Paul’s Cathedral.[762] William of Aumale and all his helpers and
abettors were excommunicated by the Legate, the Archbishop of York, and
seven (or ten) bishops of the southern province (its primate was at Rome),
the Earls of Chester and Salisbury likewise holding lighted candles which
they threw on the floor when the sentence was pronounced.[763] The
grounds of the excommunication were fourfold: first, Aumale’s refusal
either to fulfill or to redeem his vow of crusade; second, his contempt of the
“judgement of the realm” which had adjudged Bytham to William de
Coleville; third, his seizure of “a castle of his lord the King” (Fotheringay)
by treachery and without previous “defiance”;[764] fourth, his neglect to
make amends according to the Legate’s command for the plunderings
which had brought upon him his former excommunication.[765] A summons
was issued immediately to such of the barons as were not present, bidding
them meet the King at Northampton with all the forces they could bring.
[766]
Some of the magnates made an attempt to persuade Aumale into
submission, but without success.[767] When the King and the host reached
Northampton, they found that the count had left Bytham secretly, and was
making for his own castle of Skipton in Craven.[768] On this orders were
issued that Skipton and two other of his strongholds, Cockermouth and
Skipsey, should be “besieged and utterly destroyed” by the forces of the
shires in which they respectively stood—Lancashire, Westmorland and
Yorkshire.[769] Meanwhile the garrison left by Aumale at Fotheringay
“hastened to consult their own safety” by going to join their friends at
Bytham;[770] and when, on 3rd February, the royal forces, with a formidable
siege train brought from Nottingham by Philip Marc,[771] marched upon
Fotheringay, they found that castle deserted. Falkes was entrusted with its
safe keeping,[772] and the rest of the host moved on to Bytham. There a
summons to surrender was rejected by the garrison, who were forthwith
excommunicated again.[773] Then the place was assaulted, with such effect
that it was almost in ruin when on 8th February its defenders surrendered at
discretion.[774] What remained of it was immediately burnt to the ground,

with all its contents.[775] Aumale was presently found by the Archbishop of
York and the northern barons, in sanctuary at Fountains Abbey, whence they
brought him to the King under a promise that if he could not obtain mercy
from his sovereign, they would take him back to Fountains in safety.[776] At
the Legate’s desire, “peace was made between him and the King, forasmuch
as he had served the King and his father faithfully and efficiently in the
war”; and his knights and men-at-arms were all set free without punishment
or ransom. Roger of Wendover grumbles at this clemency of the King,
“who,” he says, “set a very bad precedent for others to rebel against him in
like manner, trusting to be similarly treated.”[777] Pandulf was probably a
better judge than Roger of the respective claims and advantages of mercy
and severity in such a case. His mild policy certainly proved successful so
far as Aumale himself was concerned. The count managed, indeed, to stave
off the fulfilment of his crusading vow for more than twenty years longer;
but in all those years he seems never, save for one brief moment in 1223, to
have given any trouble to the government.[778]
The next step taken by the King’s guardians towards the recovery of
control over the royal castles was a weighty one. They “urged” Earl William
the Marshal to surrender Marlborough[779] and Luggershall; “a thing
which”—as the king himself explained in a letter written some three years
later—“was most expedient for us, that thereby the other magnates should
be more easily induced to resign likewise the castles of ours which they
held.”[780] To conciliate the Marshal himself was, however, at that moment
especially, a matter of almost greater consequence than to get possession of
the castles. No other man in England had as much power to strengthen or
weaken the hands of the government as he; and that power was on the
increase. In June, 1220, he had ceded to his brother Richard his rights to the
Norman lands of their father. Richard, having no lands in England, could do
what the Earl could not—enter into his Norman heritage, by doing homage
for it to Philip Augustus; and he did so without delay.[781] Thus the family
was brought into close connexion with the interests of France. The
Marshal’s wife, a half-sister of the Count of Aumale, had now been dead
some years, and he was contemplating a marriage with a sister of Earl
Robert de Bruce. In view of the relative geographical positions of Bruce’s
earldom on the Scottish border and the Marshal’s lands in Ireland, the
prospect of this alliance filled the English King’s Council with alarm; the

more so as they believed that “there were other magnates in England who
by malicious confederations were striving to turn away his heart from” the
King.[782] They therefore offered him a bride of higher rank—the youngest
sister of the King.
The Justiciar and the Marshal pledged their faith to each other that this
marriage should take place, if the King and the magnates of the realm
would give their consent, which the Legate and Hubert promised to do their
utmost to obtain. The Marshal then surrendered the two castles, delivering
them into the hands of the Legate as their custodian, on a promise that they
should be restored to him if the contract were not fulfilled within a certain
time.[783]
It is difficult to guess who can have been the magnates suspected of
“trying to turn the Marshal’s heart away” from his young sovereign. There
were, however, rumours of a treasonable plot about this time. The
Justiciar’s uneasiness was shown in an order, issued early in March, that no
person, armed or unarmed, should be allowed to land at or sail from Bristol,
Exeter, or any of the Cinque Ports unless he had a special warrant from the
King.[784] While the court was assembled at Winchester for Whitsuntide,
Peter de Maulay, the sheriff of Dorset and Somerset and warden of the royal
castles of Corfe and Sherborne, was arrested on a charge of treason brought
against him by one Richard Muscegros.[785] Engelard de Cigogné was
arrested and imprisoned at the same time, also on suspicion of treason.[786]
On the Friday in the same week (4th June) Peter de Maulay delivered to the
King, by the hands of the Justiciar, the Earls of Salisbury and Pembroke,
and William Brewer, the royal castle of Corfe, with the King’s cousin
Eleanor, the Scot King’s sister Isabel, and the jewels, crossbows, and other
property which King John had committed to Peter to keep in the castle.[787]
Thereupon he seems to have been released,[788] on an undertaking to stand
his trial before the King’s Court at a later time. The charge against him,
whatever may have been its origin, was evidently already recognized as
unfounded; he was left in possession of his sheriffdoms, and of another
royal castle, Sherborne,[789] and no further proceedings were taken in his
case till November. Then, at a great council in London, he was, according to
one account, tried and acquitted;[790] according to another, “he put himself
on the King’s mercy, and was reconciled with him, his accusers thinking

better of the challenge which they had brought against him.”[791] His
sheriffdoms were transferred to other hands,[792] but he was publicly
acknowledged by the King as “trusty and well-beloved”;[793] and Sherborne
castle was left in his keeping till the end of January, 1222.[794] The charge
against Engelard de Cigogné was evidently found to be as baseless as that
against Peter; Engelard was released on giving hostages for the surrender of
Windsor castle whenever the King should require it,[795] but it was not
required till more than two years later, and then only in consequence of a
papal order for the surrender of all the royal castles of England; and
meanwhile, four months after his arrest, he was employed by King and
Council on important political and financial business in Poitou.[796] Peter de
Maulay is said to have sworn to John that he would not give up the castles
committed to his charge till Henry should be of age.[797] Possibly Engelard
may have been in the same case, and the “treason” of both may have
consisted in a refusal, grounded upon this previous oath, to obey some
demand made by the Justiciar for the surrender of Corfe and Windsor on the
strength of the oath taken at the coronation in 1220. There is indeed no
evidence of such a demand having been made; but it appears somewhat
significant that both Peter and Engelard were released, and the charges
against them practically withdrawn, as soon as the one prisoner had
surrendered Corfe and the other given security for the surrender of Windsor
on demand.
The marriage of Alexander and Joan was now fixed to take place at York
in the middle of June.[798] The court therefore moved northward, by way of
Oxford, Northampton, and Nottingham; and in each of these castles, it is
said, the garrison was reinforced, or a part of it replaced, by some knights of
the King’s own household.[799] On 19th June[800] Alexander and Joan were
married by Archbishop Walter.[801] A month later, at 19 July
Westminster, in presence of the bishops of Winchester,
London, and Salisbury, Pandulf publicly resigned his legation.[802]
Archbishop Stephen, who had been at Rome ever since the previous
autumn,[803] was now coming home,[804] bringing with him a grant from the
Pope of some important privileges, one of which was that during Stephen’s
own lifetime no resident legate should again be appointed in England.[805]
In all likelihood Pandulf had asked to be released from the double burden

which he had now borne for more than two years.[806] By resigning his
legation he also laid down his regency; for it was in virtue of his authority
as the Pope’s representative that he had been chosen to succeed the Earl
Marshal as regent. Neither the Pope nor the magnates took any steps to
provide a successor to Pandulf in this latter office; and thus the first English
regency suddenly came to an end.

FOOTNOTES: [Skip footnotes]

[519] He is called “Magister Pandulfus, subdiaconus et familiaris domini Papae,” until
his election to the see of Norwich in July, 1215, and even afterwards. See the preamble to
Magna Charta, and Pat. Rolls Joh., pp. 154 b, 181. Roger of Wendover (vol. iii. p. 235)
calls him cardinal in 1211; but Pandulf never was a cardinal at all.

[520] Ann. Worc., a. 1215.

[521] “Domine, de longinquo venimus huc per petitionem tuam,” is the opening speech
of the envoys to John, in Ann. Burton a. 1211, pp. 209–210; and the king at the end of the
discussion bursts out—“Intimatum mihi erat per quosdam latores meos, immo latrones,
quod vos in curia Romana promoveretis causam meam et quod me diligeretis; modo vero
hic percipio quod causam meam non fovetis.... Talia autem mihi nunciaturos non mandavi,
sed ut causam meam defenderetis,” ib. p. 216.

[522] Ib. pp. 209–217.

[523] See John Lackland, pp. 175, 179, 180.

[524] R. Wend., vol. iii. p. 256.

[525] “Domini Papae nuncius,” June, 1213, Pat. Rolls Joh., pp. 99 b, 100 b.

[526] Ib. p. 107, 1st January, 1214.

[527] Ib. p. 100.

[528] “In nuncium nostrum,” Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 141.

[529] Pat. Rolls Joh., pp. 129 b, 132.

[530] R. Wend., vol. iii. pp. 336–338, 340.

[531] Between 15th and 18th July; Pat. Rolls Joh., pp. 149, 149 b.

[532] Ib. p. 182 b, 13th September, 1215.

[533] Bliss, Calendar, vol. i. p. 56.

[534] Ib. p. 58.

[535] R. Coggeshall, p. 186.

[536] On the date of this correspondence see Professor Powicke’s article on “The
Chancery during the Minority of Henry III,” Eng. Hist. Rev., vol. xxiii. p. 229.

[537] Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 113.

[538] Ib. p. 112.

[539] Ib. p. 117.

[540] Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 120.

[541] “Si ... ad beatum Martyrem visitandum ire velitis.”

[542] Ib. pp. 119–121.

[543] On the whole subject of Chancellor, Vice-chancellor, and custody of the seals, and
on Richard de Marsh and Ralf de Neville, see Powicke, pp. 223–231.

[544] “Per vicarium,” Dial. de Scaccario, lib. i. c. xv.

[545] Professor Powicke, p. 228, says positively that this was so, citing as his authority
“Rot. Claus. passim.” So far as I can see, however, these Rolls contain no actual proof that
the “R. camerarius” who figures in them together with the treasurer and another
chamberlain whose initial is “F.” is Ralf de Neville. The identification seems to be an
inference from Pandulf’s injunctions about “paying nothing out.”

[546] This is clear from the tone of Pandulf’s letters. See especially the letter of 12th
May—“Rogamus autem et monemus prudentiam tuam ut verbum secretum quod tibi
diximus studeas loco et tempore fideliter procurare.” Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 119.

[547] Pandulf issues his orders “legationis qua fungimur auctoritate” (ib.), because in
his case the secular authority of the regent was included in and covered by the legatine
authority. He had been made regent just because he was the Pope’s Legate.

[548] Ib. p. 116.

[549] “Ad factum scaccarii detis operam efficacem, sicut regi et regno cognoscatis
expedire,” Foedera, I. i. p. 157, January, 1220.

[550] Ann. Dunst. a. 1223, p. 84.

[551] There is no authority for the oft-repeated assertion that Hubert’s father was brother
to William FitzAudelin.

[552] For their relationship see Sweetman, Calendar of Documents relating to Ireland,
vol. i. No. 2217.

[553] Pat. Rolls Joh., p. 9.

[554] R. Howden, vol. iv. p. 163.

[555] R. Coggeshall, pp. 139–140.

[556] Ib. p. 154.

[557] See references in Dugdale, Baronage, vol. i. p. 693.

[558] Before 7th April; Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 142.

[559] Before 11th April (1215); ib. p. 194.

[560] Pat. Rolls Joh., p. 138, 24th May, 1215.

[561] Between 15th June, when he figures in the Great Charter as “senescallus
Pictaviae,” and 25th June, when he appears for the first time as “Justiciarius Angliae,” Ib.
p. 144 b. He himself seems to have stated in 1239 “quod dominus Johannes Rex tradidit ei
justitiariam apud Runingmede coram domino Stephano Archiepiscopo, comite Warannae,
comite de Ferrariis, et aliis magnatibus”; Responsiones (M. Paris, Chron. Maj., vol. vi.), p.
65.

[562] M. Paris, Chron. Maj., vol. iii. pp. 28, 29.

[563] See above, pp. 51, 52.

[564] R. Wend., vol. iii. p. 181; M. Paris, Chron. Maj., vol. iii. p. 309.

[565] Dict. Nat. Biogr., “Peter des Roches.”

[566] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 1 b.

[567] Pat. Rolls Joh., p. 22 b.

[568] See Rolls, a. 1201–1205, passim.

[569] Pat. Rolls Joh., p. 49.

[570] Ib. pp. 40, 43, 46 (a. 1204).

[571] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 18 b.

[572] Ann. Winton. a. 1205.

[573] Ann. Dunst. a. 1210.

[574] Pat. Rolls Joh., p. 110, 110 b.

[575] R. Coggeshall, p. 168.

[576] Ann. Wav., a. 1214.

[577] In the Patent Roll of 15 John (1213–1214), Pat. Rolls Joh., p. 107, it is stated that
“vicesimo secundo die Decembris liberatum fuit sigillum apud Windlesoram Radulfo de

Nevill, sub domino Wintoniensi episcopo deferendum.” From this it has by some writers
been inferred that Peter was Chancellor for a short time in 1213–1214. But Walter de Gray,
who had been Chancellor ever since 2nd October, 1205 (Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 53), appears
in that capacity on 10th October, 1213, and again on 12th January, 1214 (ib. pp. 156 b,
160), and the title of chancellor is nowhere given to Peter. It seems therefore that Ralf was
made keeper of the seal “under the Bishop of Winchester” as a mere temporary
arrangement, necessitated by the fact that the Chancellor (Walter de Gray) was going to
Flanders on business for the King; ib. p. 156 b. See also Powicke, “Chancery,” pp. 226,
227.

[578] Henry was born on 1st October, 1207; R. Wend., vol. iii. p. 219.

[579] The notices of little Henry during his father’s lifetime are unluckily very few. We
know that about August, 1215, he and his mother were sent for safety to the royal castle of
Corfe (Hist. Ducs, p. 152), and that at the time of his father’s death he was in the castle of
Devizes, under the care of a valiant man-at-arms, Ralf of Saint-Samson (see above, pp. 2,
3). These temporary removals of the boy from Peter’s custody were, however, certainly not
due to any withdrawal of John’s confidence from Peter, whose name follows that of Gualo
in the list of executors of the will made by John on his death-bed.

[580] “Willelmus Mareschallus, regis rector et regni, diem clausit extremum; post cujus
mortem memoratus rex in custodia Petri Wintoniensis episcopi remansit.” R. Wend., vol.
iv. p. 46.

[581] Turner, pt. II. p. 237.

[582] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 13, 14.

[583] Ib. p. 136.

[584] Ib. p. 13; see on this Turner, pt. II. p. 236.

[585] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 136. The new custodian was Falkes, who had been custodian
of Rockingham before Count William. The fact that Sauvey was not re-committed to
Geoffrey de Serland implies no slight upon the latter; he had in the interval been well
provided for elsewhere.

[586] W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 245.

[587] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 257, 258; Close Rolls, vol. i. pp. 434, 434 b.

[588] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 416 b.

[589] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 235.

[590] Ib. p. 240.

[591] Ib. p. 191.

[592] Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 98.

[593] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 400 b.

[594] Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 99.

[595] Ib. pp. 128, 129.

[596] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 263–265.

[597] Roy. Lett., vol. i. pp. 16, 17.

[598] There can be no doubt that this is the “forma pacis” which Pandulf asks Ralf de
Neville to send him in May 1219: ib. p. 117 (for date see above, p. 113).

[599] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 197.

[600] Foedera, I. i. p. 157. The letter is dateless, but there can be no doubt about its
reference. It cannot refer to the treaty made between the two kings at York in June 1220,
because on that occasion Peter, as well as Pandulf, was present in person; Pat. Rolls, vol. i.
p. 235.

[601] This was explicitly stated in the charge against Hubert de Burgh in 1239, as
reported in his Responsiones, M. Paris, Chron. Maj., vol. vi. pp. 70–71. A promise that one
of William’s daughters should be married to one of John’s sons is also mentioned by
Gervase of Canterbury (vol. i. p. 103) as included in the treaty of Norham. The text of that
treaty in Foedera, I. i. p. 103, rests on no authority beyond that of Rymer.

[602] Both Margaret and her sister were born before the end of 1195; R. Howden, vol.
iii. pp. 299, 308.

[603] “Primae conventiones.”

[604] Responsiones, p. 71.

[605] Roy. Lett., vol. i. pp. 59, 60.

[606] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 434.

[607] Roy. Lett., vol. i. pp. 58, 59, 76, 77; Foedera, I. i. p. 157.

[608] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 260, 261.

[609] Close Rolls, vol. i. pp. 418, 418 b. Llywelyn’s version, as given in a letter from
him to Pandulf, Roy. Lett., vol. i. pp. 122, 123, was very different.

[610] Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 143.

[611] Foedera, I. i. p. 159.

[612] W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 244.

[613] “Eodemque anno ... devotus Deo rex Henricus III fecit inchoari fabricam novae
capellae B. Virginis apud Westmonasterium, eodem rege existente fundatore et patrono, et
primum lapidem operis in fundamento in bonum auspicium disponente, videlicet sabbato
sancto Pentecostes.” M. Paris, Hist. Angl. a. 1220, vol. ii. p. 242. Cf. R. Coggeshall, p. 188,
and Ann. Berm., a. 1220.

[614] W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 244. There must have been many present who had seen three
coronations before Henry’s accession—those of Richard in 1189 and 1195, and that of
John in 1199. The Ann. Dunst., p. 57, mention a detail which would have a special
significance for those who remembered Richard’s first crowning: “Judaei vero in Turri
Lundoniarum servabantur interim ad cautelam.” Roger of Wendover, vol. iv. p. 63, says the
crowning was at Canterbury, but he is certainly wrong. Cf. Hist. Ducs, p. 208, and R.
Coggeshall, p. 187. T. Wykes, a. 1220, says: “Sane quia propter aetatis teneritudinem
nondum sufficiens fuerat [rex] ad regni gubernaculum, totius regni proceres providebant
sibi tutorem et custodem, virum summi discretionis et probitatis, dominum Hubertum de
Burgo, qui motus regis voluntarios refraenaret, ne forte per immoderantiam lasciviret;
factusque est justiciarius totius Angliae, ut sua prudentia, qua caeteris praepollebat, regis et
regni negotia dispensaret.” And the Bermondsey Annals, a. 1220, say: “Hoc anno Hubertus
de Burgo factus est justiciarius totius Angliae,” while the Waverley Annals make a like
statement under the date 1219. These entries seem to be all derived from a common source,
and based upon a mistake. There is superabundant documentary evidence that Hubert had
been justiciar uninterruptedly ever since 1215; if he had not been reappointed at Henry’s
accession, there could be no reason and no occasion for him to be reappointed now; and his
own words in 1239, as given in the Responsiones, p. 64, distinctly imply that nothing of
the kind had ever taken place.

[615] Close Rolls, vol. i. pp. 170, 171, August, 1214.

[616] See above, p. 117.

[617] Before 4th Feb. 1215: Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 186 b.

[618] Before 8th December, 1215: ib. p. 241.

[619] The Archbishop’s appointment as seneschal is dated 28th March, 1217. Pat. Rolls,
vol. i. p. 54.

[620] Ib. p. 152, 8th May, 1218.

[621] He was probably about the same age as Isabel, who was then twenty-six. His
parents had been married in 1181; but his mother—who as the only child of the elder
brother of Isabel’s father had claims on Angoulême—must have been then so young that
her son is not likely to have been born till some years later.

[622] Of Jerusalem and Cyprus.

[623] Foedera, I. i. p. 159; cf. John’s treaty with the Lusignans, Charter Rolls, p. 197 b.

[624] Roy. Lett., vol. i. pp. 30, 31.

[625] Ib. pp. 37, 38.

[626] She was proposing to go in July, 1217, Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 113, Close Rolls, vol. i.
p. 315, but seems not to have actually gone till next year.

[627] Hist. Ducs, p. 206.

[628] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 73 b.

[629] Ib. p. 168 b.

[630] Roy. Lett., vol. i. pp. 33, 34.

[631] Such at least was Hugh’s story: “non poterat exire de Rupella sine commodatione
praedictae pecuniae,” ib. p. 44.

[632] Ib. pp. 43–45.

[633] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 395 b, 16th July.

[634] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 199, 25th July.

[635] See the King’s letter to William Maingo, 24th July, 1219, in Foedera, I. i. p. 155.

[636] It had been made in September, 1214, to last for five years from Easter, 1215; ib.
p. 125.

[637] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 201.

[638] Foedera, I. i. p. 157; Roy. Lett., vol. i. pp. 74, 76.

[639] They were Philip d’Aubigné, the Abbot of Stratford, and Alan Basset. Close Rolls,
vol. i. p. 410 b.

[640] Foedera, I. i. pp. 158, 159. Cf. Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 94, Ann. Dunst., a. 1220 (which
wrongly make the period five years), and Hist. Ducs, pp. 207, 208; the two latter
authorities expatiate on Philip’s generosity in consenting to prolong the truce without
pecuniary consideration.

[641] Roy. Lett., vol. i. pp. 33, 34.

[642] Warren went with her to the King, and a day, 15th September, was given them, at
which Warren begged Hubert to attend and do his utmost “tam pro rege quam pro nobis”;
ib. p. 42. The result does not appear.

[643] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 408, 14th November.

[644] He landed at Dover on 1st November, and proposed to be in London to meet
Pandulf on the 4th; Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 49.

[645] Roy. Lett., vol. i. pp. 54, 55.

[646] Ib. pp. 45, 46, 49–54, 62, 63, 65.

[647] Ib. pp. 94–96. Cf. the letter of Ivo de la Jaille—one of the Angevin barons who
still held out for the Angevin house—ib. p. 93. Geoffrey de Neville was sent back to Poitou
in February, 1220, but only “in nuncium nostrum,” Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 411 b; he went
after 12th February, and seems to have returned to England before 27th April, ib. p. 417.
The “Seneschal of Poitou and Gascony” to whom letters are addressed on 10th February,
2nd July, and 29th July, 1220 (Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 228, 245, 243), was clearly a deputy,
most likely William Gauler.

[648] On January 17th, 1220, Pandulf urged Hubert “Provideatis etiam de persona quae
ire debeat in Pictaviam, quia tempus instat quo debeat quicumque fuerit iter arripere. Nec
expectetis super praemissis consilium, cum nos hoc velimus et consulamus omnimodis
bona fide.” Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 76. Again, on 27th January: “Si de mittenda persona in
Pictaviam tractavistis et eam invenistis, nobis quam citius vestris literis intimetis.” Ib. p.
79.

[649] See for date Shirley’s note, ib. pp. 32, 33.

[650] “Comites Marchiae et Angolismae” in Shirley’s printed text, ib. p. 114; but this
latter word must be an error for Augiae.

[651] See the whole of this very amusing epistle, ib. pp. 114, 115. The date is
approximately determined by Henry’s letter of congratulation to Hugh.

[652] Foedera, I. i. p. 160.

[653] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 233. Ralf and Joldewin are spoken of as going to Poitou “in
nuntium nostrum” on 20th May; Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 418 b.

[654] Close Rolls, vol i. p. 436.

[655] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 235. The Ann. Dunst., a. 1220, say: “Mense Junio apud
Eboracum rex Scotiae affidavit sororem Henrici regis Angliae; qua de causa idem rex
Angliae remisit ei quinque millia marcarum.” Probably remisit here is a scribe’s error for
promisit, and five thousand marks was the dowry given by Henry to his sister on her
marriage. The little damsel Isabel of England was apparently taken to York that Alexander
might see her; Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 234. The Lord of Galloway, Alan, also came to York at
this time, and performed the homage which he owed to Henry; Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 420 b.

[656] Isabel’s demand is curiously worded: “Precamur vos diligenter quod ei [i.e.,
Hugoni] reddatis jus suum, scilicet Niortum, Castrum Exonense, et de Rokingham, et tria
millia et quingentas marcas quas pater vester, maritus quondam noster, nobis legavit” (Roy.
Lett., vol. i. p. 115). The mention of Rockingham should probably run “et villam de
Rokingham.” The lands bestowed by John upon Isabel in dower consisted of the city of
Saintes, Niort, Saumur, La Flèche, Beaufort, Baugy, Château-du-Loir, “Trov” (Charter
Rolls, pp. 74 b, 75), the city and fair of Exeter, the towns of Ilchester, Wilton, Malmesbury,
Chichester, Queenhithe, and Waltham, the honour of Berkhamsted, the county of Rutland,
and the town of Rockingham, Falaise, Domfront, Bonneville-sur-Toucques, and all the
lands which had belonged to the dowry of his mother Queen Eleanor (ib. 128).

[657] Foedera, I. i. p. 161.

[658] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 261.

[659] Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 149; cf. ib. p. 133.

[660] Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 134.

[661] Ib. p. 140.

[662] Roy. Lett., vol. i. pp. 132, 133.

[663] Ib. p. 127.

[664] Ib. pp. 123, 124.

[665] Ib. pp. 126, 127.

[666] Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 129.

[667] See the story in Turner, pt. II. pp. 223, 224.

[668] Foedera, I. i. p. 162.

[669] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 249.

[670] Cf. Peter’s letter to Pandulf, Foedera, l.c., and Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 430, where
we find the Dean sent home at the King’s expense “in nuncium nostrum” on 18th
September.

[671] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 437.

[672] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 265, 266.

[673] Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 149.

[674] Ib. pp. 536, 537.

[675] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 255.

[676] Philip of Ulecote died before 30th October; ib. p. 269.

[677] Roy. Lett., vol. i. pp. 157–159.

[678] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 439.

[679] Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 159.

[680] “Barones qui praesentes erant in crastino coronationis juraverunt quod castra et
wardias suas ad voluntatem regis resignarent, et de firmis suis fidelem compotum ad
scaccarium redderent; et si quis regi rebellis resisteret, et infra quadragintas dies post
excommunicationem a legato non satisfecerit, quod ad mandatum regis ei bella moverent,
ut exhaeredetur sine fine rebellis.” Ann. Dunst., a. 1220, p. 57. See Note VI.

[681] Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 121.

[682] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 65. The castle is not expressly named; but its inclusion in the
grant appears from the sequel.

[683] Hundred Rolls, vol. i. p. 309.

[684] On 26th November, 1217, the King bids “the sheriff of Lincolnshire”—no name is
mentioned—“cause Nicolaa de Haye to have a reasonable aid from her knights and free
tenants in your bailiwick for the payment of debts incurred by her when she was besieged
in Lincoln castle.” Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 344.

[685] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 130.

[686] Close Rolls, vol. i. pp. 356, 367, 367 b, &c. The exact date at which she recovered
the castle does not appear; probably it was not very long before the date of the first of these
entries, 17th March, 1218; for on 13th November, 1218, we find an order to the Treasury
for payment to Earl William of what he spent “per visum et testimonium legalium
hominum in reparacione castri Lincolniae tempore pacis,” ib. p. 383. If he had delivered
the castle to its Dame immediately on receipt of the King’s order to do so, at the beginning
of November, 1217, he would not have had much time for its repair tempore pacis, the
peace having been made on 12th September.

[687] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 200, 201.

[688] Order, dated 23rd May, 1220, for payment to Falkes of the wages of three knights
“qui sunt in servitio nostro in castro Lincolniae cum eodem Falkesio” from the octave of
the Assumption in the King’s third year (22nd August, 1219) to the octave of Trinity in his
fourth year (31st May, 1220). Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 419.

[689] Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 73.

[690] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 86, 87.

[691] Hist. Ducs, pp. 175, 176.

[692] “Johannes Marescallus reddit compotum de £128 7s. pro fine suo et fine fratris sui
Gilleberti de terra patris eorum. In operatione castri de Merleberga £26 13s. 4d. per breve
Regis et per visum Yvonis de Neville. Et debet £100 33s. 8d.” Pipe Roll 22 Hen. II (1175–
1176), p. 172.

[693] The warden of Marlborough castle throughout John’s reign was Hugh de Neville;
see Pat. Rolls Joh. and Close Rolls, vol. i., passim, the latter from p. 16 b (1205) onwards.
John “de Turri” appears as its constable on the morrow of Magna Charta (Close Rolls, vol.
i. p. 214 b), no doubt as deputy for Hugh, who was at Runnimede with the king. It was
Hugh who surrendered the place to Louis in 1216; Hist. Ducs, pp. 175, 176.

[694] In a writ of Computate in favour of the sheriff of Wiltshire, 13th November, 1222,
occurs this item: “Computate et eidem in firma manerii de Merleberge c. et lx. libras
blanchas, videlicet xxxii libras annuas de praedictis v. annis praeteritis, quas comes W.
Marescallus senior et comes W. Marescallus junior et Johannes de Ferentino receperunt de
eodem manerio per eosdem annos ad custodiendum castrum de Merleberge”; and the “past
five years” are in an earlier part of the writ defined as “de anno regni nostri secundo, tertio,
quarto, quinto, et sexto,” i.e. from 29th October, 1217, to 28th October, 1222. Close Rolls,
vol. i. p. 521.

[695] Roy. Lett., vol. i. pp. 100, 101; date, 3rd April [1220].

[696] On 24th July, 1221, “the King’s constable of Marlborough” is bidden to give the
heirs of Robert of Barfleur seisin of the mill at Marlborough called Port Mill, “de quo W.
Marescallus comes Penbrochiae cum habuisset seisinam castri de Merleberge eosdem
heredes pro voluntate sua disseisivit.” Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 466.

[697] Close Rolls, vol. i. pp. 299 b, 305 b; Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 55.

[698] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 348. Cf. above, p. 87.

[699] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 354 b, 13th March, 1218.

[700] Ib. p. 397, 22nd July, 1219.

[701] Ib. p. 406 b, 29th October, 1219.

[702] That the Marshal had taken this oath is stated in the King’s letter of 11th
September, Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 429 b.

[703] Hubert held the castles of Dover, Canterbury, Rochester, Norwich, Orford, and the
Tower of London (see Turner, pt. II. pp. 242, 243); the first three as sheriff of Kent, the
next two as sheriff of Norfolk and Suffolk, and the last as Justiciar.

[704] W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 244.

[705] Pontefract, 19th June; Nottingham, 21st June; Leicester, 23rd June; Northampton,
23rd June; Rockingham, 26th June. Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 238.

[706] W. Cov., l.c.

[707] See above, p. 123.

[708] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 238.

[709] “Computate Falkesio de Bréauté £100 quas posuit in expensis nostris in obsidione
castri de Rockingham,” 5th November, 1220, Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 439 b.

[710] W. Cov., vol. ii. pp. 244, 245.

[711] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 239.

[712] The Barnwell annalist’s account of this affair (W. Cov., l.c.) suggests a possibility
that Aumale’s deputy constable at Rockingham may have been more forward than Aumale
himself to resist the King, and in fact gone beyond the count’s orders in shutting the gates.
Mr. Turner thinks the statement of Roger of Wendover (vol. iv, p. 65) that the two castles
were found “penitus omnia victualium genere destituta, ita quidem quod nec etiam tres
panes invenirentur in eis,” “suggests that the count had been misrepresented by the letters
patent of November, 1219, which recited that he was fortifying the castles and storing them
with corn” (Turner, pt. II. p. 242). I cannot follow this argument; to me a statement as to
the contents of a place in June, 1220, conveys no suggestion whatever as to the contents of
that place in November, 1219.

[713] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 240, 29th June, 1220.

[714] See above, p. 143. The date must be before 29th June, as the Earl speaks of the
Count’s lack of obedience to the King “de his quae modo custodit in Anglia.”

[715] He may even have had no stake there at all. For all we know, his father may not
have possessed a rood of land at Fors or anywhere else. Fors itself is a mere village.

[716] Ann. Dunst., a. 1220, p. 64.

[717] Ib. p. 58; cf. W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 246, and Ann. Wav., a. 1220.

[718] Hist. Ducs, p. 209.

[719] Cf. W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 245, Ann. Dunst., p. 58, and Hist. Ducs, pp. 208, 209. The
last reckons twenty-five bishops; the first, seventeen bishops and three archbishops, among
whom, however, he does not name Reims.

[720] Hist. Ducs, p. 209; Ann. Dunst., l.c.

[721] Hist. Ducs, p. 208.

[722] “Praesente ... rege Anglorum Henrico quarto,” says the Barnwell annalist (W.
Cov., l.c.), using the reckoning which counted the “young King,” Henry II’s son, as Henry
III.

[723] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 437.

[724] Cf. Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 437 b, and Ann. Dunst., a. 1220.

[725] Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 151.

[726] I venture to suggest that this may be the explanation of a letter from Pandulf to
Hubert de Burgh, Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 130: “Quod actum est de vicecomite Eboracensi, in
Dei et domini regis ac nostrum pariter acceptatum esse noscitur praejudicium et
contemptum, non enim per nostram vel vestram ammonitionem adhuc potuit liberari.
Ideoque discretionem vestram monemus attentius et hortamur quatenus ipsum secundum
justitiam et legem terrae faciatis quantocius liberari, cum teneamini hoc circa quemlibet
observari facientes” (?) “ita quod honor domini regis conservetur illaesus, et vos inde
possitis merito commendari.” In the printed edition this letter purports to be “datum apud
Lincolniam, nonas Junii”; Dr. Shirley took this to be 5th June, 1220, and tentatively
suggested as “not impossible” that the outrage to which it alludes may have been an act of
vengeance perpetrated by William of Aumale, Geoffrey’s most powerful neighbour in
Yorkshire, on the erroneous suspicion that it was Geoffrey’s influence which had
“disappointed” him of Geoffrey’s former office of seneschal of Poitou. But (1) I greatly
doubt whether Aumale, or anybody else, would be “disappointed” at not being made
seneschal of Poitou. That office was neither a pleasant nor a lucrative one, but one which
most of its various holders, for many years past, seem to have accepted with reluctance and
escaped from as soon as possible. (2) The fact that in none of the various accounts of
Aumale’s misdoings—in the chronicles, or in the royal letters patent—is there any mention
of the capture of the sheriff of Yorkshire, makes it appear very improbable that he was
concerned in the matter. Had he been so, or even suspected of being so, his enemies would
surely have made the most of such a charge to add to the indictment which, as we shall see,
was brought against him early next year. (3) Dr. Shirley cites as a reference showing this
letter to have been written in 1220 “inter alia, Rot. Claus. i. p. 419 b”; but I can see there
nothing which bears on the subject. It seems to me possible that the word printed Junii may
have been originally a contracted form of Januarii; that the true date of the letter may be
5th January, 1221; and that its true connexion may be not with Aumale but with the dispute
about the carucage. I can find in the Rolls nothing to prove or to indicate whether Geoffrey
de Neville was or was not at liberty either c. 5th June, 1220, or c. 5th January, 1221. On

22nd January he was sent with a message from the King to the count of Aumale; Close
Rolls, vol. i. p. 446.

[727] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 437.

[728] See above, p. 124.

[729] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. pp. 253, 254.

[730] Ib. p. 253.

[731] See the details of the debts to Pandulf, Feb. 18th, 1221, ib. p. 284.

[732] See above, p. 129.

[733] Roy. Lett., vol. i. pp. 141, 142.

[734] Ib. p. 143.

[735] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 428.

[736] Brut, p. 307.

[737] Roy. Lett., vol. i. pp. 144, 145. Cf. Ann. Dunst., p. 61.

[738] Roy. Lett., vol. i. pp. 144, 145.

[739] Pat. Rolls, vol. pp. 254, 255.

[740] Foedera, I. i. p. 164.

[741] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 431 b. Of course it by no means follows that these
commissioners got what they went for.

[742] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 236.

[743] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 429 b.

[744] Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 150.

[745] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 257.

[746] See above, p. 145.

[747] We shall find it in his custody in January, 1221.

[748] He eventually gave it, not later than 12th March, 1221, to the boy’s maternal
uncle, Ranulf of Chester. Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 285.

[749] Cf. ib. p. 272, and Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 442.

[750] Turner, pt. II. pp. 247, 248.

[751] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 119.

[752] Ann. Dunst., p. 64.

[753] Turner, pt. II. p. 248.

[754] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 66. Cf. W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 247.

[755] R. Wend., l.c. He goes on: “Habuit autem, ut dicebatur, hujus factionis incentores
Falcasium, Philippum Marc, Petrum de Maloleone” [recte “Malolacu”] “Engelardum de
Athie, et alios multos, qui clam miserunt ei viros armatos ut pacem regni turbaret.” But
there is not a particle of evidence to indicate that such was the fact, or even that it was
suspected at the time; indeed, the evidence of the records disproves the existence of such a
suspicion against two of the men named, Philip Marc and Falkes; see Turner, pt. II. p. 254,
and Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 448 b. Once again, as in his account of the Newark affair in
1217, Roger is carrying back to an earlier date his recollections of 1223.

[756] “Comes de Albomari mense Januario visus est furtive capere castra de Neuwerga,
et de Latford, et de Kimbautona; sed turpiter repulsus, accessit ex improvisu ad
Fodringham,” etc., says the printed text of Ann. Dunst., a. 1221, p. 63. Visus is obviously
an error for nisus. Newark and Sleaford belonged to the Bishop of Lincoln; Kimbolton to
the Earl of Essex.

[757] I think this must be the real meaning of the words of Roger of Wendover, (vol. iv.
p. 67): “Convenerunt interim magnates Angliae ad regem apud Westmonasterium ut de
negotiis regni tractarent; comes vero, qui cum caeteris vocatus fuerat, simulavit se illo ire,”
coupled with the safe-conduct until Candlemas granted to Aumale on some day between
15th and 22nd January, 1221, Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 278; cf. Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 446.

[758] “Justiciarius Angliae tunc in custodiam habebat,” W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 247. Roger,
l.c., says “erat tunc castellum in custodia Ranulfi comitis Cestrensis,” but the former is
probably right. Cf. Turner, pt. II. p. 252.

[759] Cf. R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 67, and Ann. Dunst., p. 63.

[760] R. Wend., l.c.

[761] W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 247.

[762] On 22nd January a letter close was sent to Aumale bidding him trust what two
persons named therein should say to him on the King’s behalf; Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 446.
This, from its tone, would seem to have been despatched in ignorance of the Fotheringay
outrage—certainly before the assembly in which Aumale was excommunicated again. The
date of that assembly is given in the Dunstable Annals, l.c., as “in die Conversionis Sancti
Pauli.” But the excommunication is announced, as having already taken place, in a letter
dated January 23rd, Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 169.

[763] Cf. W. Cov., l.c., and Ann. Dunst., p. 64.

[764] “Tum quia castrum domini sui regis proditione cepit antequam ipsum difidasset.” I
think this sentence of the Dunstable annalist (l.c.) tends to confirm the Barnwell writer’s
statement that Fotheringay was in the custody of Hubert. Strictly speaking, Fotheringay

was never “a castle of his (Aumale’s) lord the King,” i.e., King Henry; it was a castle of
the Earl of Huntingdon’s, and held of the King of Scots; Henry had only the right to its
custody during the minority of the heir, and he had committed it to Alexander as custodian.
If, however, Alexander had (as he very likely may have done) placed it temporarily in
Henry’s hand, to be garrisoned by Henry’s men under Henry’s justiciar, the Dunstable
writer’s words would be far more intelligible than if they were applied to it when in the
keeping of the Earl of Chester, who we know was, at some date before—unluckily there is
nothing to prove how long before—12th March, 1221, appointed custodian of the honour
of Huntingdon not by Henry, but, with Henry’s sanction, by Alexander; see above, footnote
748.

[765] Ann. Dunst., p. 64.

[766] Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 169. This letter, dated 23rd January, is addressed to Geoffrey
de Neville. There can be no doubt that a like summons was sent to the other sheriffs and
barons, and that the muster was a general one.

[767] W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 248.

[768] Roy. Lett., vol i. p. 171. He left Bytham on 31st January; ib.

[769] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 474 b.

[770] W. Cov., l.c.

[771] Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 448.

[772] Ann. Dunst., l.c.

[773] W. Cov., vol. ii. pp. 248, 249.

[774] R. Wend., vol. iv. p. 67.

[775] W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 249. Ann. Dunst., p. 64.

[776] Ann. Dunst., l.c.

[777] R. Wend., vol. iv. pp. 67, 68.

[778] Commentators seem puzzled to account for a letter, dated 29th April, 1221, in
which the Pope bids the Archbishop of York and his suffragans, “cum, sicut audivimus et
dolemus, gravis guerra in regno Angliae incipit pullulare, quae nisi fuerit repressa celeriter,
in totius regni poterit excrescere detrimentum ... quatenus singuli tanquam propriam
causam agentes ad praecidendam guerrarum materiam et pacis foedera reformandam omne
studium et diligentiam impendatis”; Roy. Lett., vol. i. pp. 174, 175. I would suggest that
Honorius had heard something of the misdoings of the lord of Holderness, and was neither
sufficiently learned in English geography to realize that they were not actually done in the
northern province, nor, as yet, aware—as, indeed, he could not be at that date—how
promptly they had been brought to an end.

[779] Ann. Dunst., a. 1221, p. 68. On 28th April Falkes, Richard de Rivers, and Engelard
de Cigogné were sent to the Marshal with a letter desiring him to trust to what they should

tell him from the King about the castle of Marlborough “ad fidem, commodum, et
honorem nostrum.” Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 287.

[780] Roy. Lett., vol. i. p. 245.

[781] Stapleton, Rotuli Normanniae, vol. ii. introduction, p. cxxxviii.

[782] Roy. Lett., vol. i. pp. 244, 245. This may be an allusion to the supposed plot of
Peter de Maulay, or merely to what was possibly the origin of a misunderstanding which
had occurred between the Marshal and the government at the time of the siege of Bytham.
The Marshal received no summons for that expedition, but hearing when on his way “ad
remotas partes” on business of his own that the host was mustering, he hurried back and
wrote to the King, expressing his surprise at not having been summoned, and his readiness
to join the muster; ib. pp. 170, 171. The omission to summon him can hardly have been
intentional; it is much more likely that the summons miscarried, and this may have
occurred through its interception by some mischief-maker.

[783] Roy. Lett., vol. i. pp. 244, 245. Marlborough castle was in Pandulf’s custody till
7th February, 1224; Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 426. So also, no doubt, was Luggershall, John
Little, who on 2nd March, 1224, was ordered to deliver both castles to Robert de Meisy
(ib. p. 428), being sub-warden under Pandulf. The Ann. Dunst. (p. 68) which do not
mention Luggershall, say of Marlborough, “Quod quidem [Marescallus] tali conditione
reddidit in manum legati, quod si alii similiter castra sibi commendata redderent, et suum
retineretur, alioquin ei redderetur”; but the King’s letter is a better authority as to the
condition.

[784] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 284. Cf. Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 451.

[785] Cf. W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 250, and Ann. Dunst., p. 75, and for Richard Muscegros see
Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 216.

[786] Ann. Dunst., p. 68. This authority says “post Pentecosten”; the Barnwell annalist
(W. Cov., l.c.) places the capture of Peter de Maulay “in festo Pentecostes,” which, like
Falkes’s narrative (which will be dealt with later) leaves it uncertain whether the date
meant is Whit-Sunday or merely Whitsuntide.

[787] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 321.

[788] Querimonia Falcasii, W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 260, and Ann. Dunst., p. 68.

[789] “De qua captione non ante dictus nobilis evadere potuit quam ea castra quae sibi
tam a domino Guala quam etiam a patre domini regis commissa fuerant restitueret,” says
Falkes (Quer. Falc., l.c.). But the records show that Peter really resigned nothing, except
Corfe, until 20th November (1221), and that he retained Sherborne till 30th January, 1222
(Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 325). On the words about Gualo see Note VI.

[790] Ann. Dunst., p. 75.

[791] W. Cov., vol. ii. pp. 250, 251.

[792] Pat. Rolls, vol. i. p. 320.

[793] Ib. p. 321; cf. Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 481 b.

[794] See footnote 789 above.

[795] Ann. Dunst., p. 68.

[796] See below, p. 176.

[797] See above, pp. 73, 74.

[798] Early in the year it seems to have been arranged that Henry and Alexander should
meet at Lincoln on 7th June; but the place and day were changed to York and 14th June
(Close Rolls, vol. i. p. 476), and the meeting was ultimately postponed till 19th June.

[799] Ann. Dunst., pp. 68, 69. Hubert (and of course Henry) was at Oxford 9th June,
Northampton 11th, Nottingham 14th, Blyth 15th, and York 19th; Close Rolls, vol. i. pp.
461 b, 462.

[800] Chron. Melrose and Chron. Lanercost, a. 1221. M. Paris, Chron. Maj., vol. iii. p.
66, gives the date as 25th June, which the Close Roll, vol. i. p. 463, shows to be
incompatible with the movements of the English court. Alexander’s settlement of
dowerlands upon Joan—“sponsae nostrae dilectae”—is dated York, 18th June; Pat. Rolls,
vol. i. p. 309.

[801] W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 249.

[802] Cf. ib. p. 250, and Flores Hist., vol. ii. p. 172; the date comes from the latter.

[803] He went after Michaelmas, 1220, Ann. Dunst., p. 64, “propter quaedam negotia
Anglicanae Ecclesiae,” W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 246.

[804] He reached England about 15th August; W. Cov., vol. ii. p. 250.

[805] Ann. Dunst., p. 74.

[806] The Continuator of Florence of Worcester, a. 1221, (p. 173), says that Pandulf “a
legationis officio revocatur.” This phrase need not exclude a voluntary resignation; he may
have been recalled at his own request. No papal letters on the subject are extant; it is
probable that Pandulf, like Gualo, asked permission to lay down an office which seems
never to have been much to his taste; and it is even possible that he may have made his
request through Stephen.

CHAPTER IV
TUTORS AND GOVERNORS
1221–1223

Haeres ... cum sit dominus omnium ... sub tutoribus et actoribus est, usque ad praefinitum tempus a
patre.

When Pandulf resigned his offices in England the King 1221
was within three months of his fourteenth birthday.
Whether his minority was to terminate then, or how much longer it should
continue, was still undecided. It seems to have been considered as
terminable at any time after October 1st, 1221, at the discretion of the Pope;
and this may have been the reason why no provision was made for a
continuance, in the hands of any person or persons whatever, of the special
authority in temporal matters which had been vested in the Legate. The
Council which had carried on the administration of affairs under him was,
so far as we can see, simply left to carry it on without him.
The government thus constituted had no reason to anticipate any
immediate difficulties. The realm was at peace within its own borders, and
at peace with its neighbour lands, Scotland and France. The Welsh princes
were as usual not only quarrelling among themselves but also dragging the
barons of the English border into their quarrels; but a new agreement
among the princes, and a truce between Llywelyn on the one part, and the
Marshal and Reginald de Breuse on the other, had just been patched up by
Pandulf at Shrewsbury.[807] The alliance with Scotland was further
cemented by another marriage before the end of the year; in fulfilment of
Henry’s promise that the Scot King’s sisters should be provided with
husbands in England, Margaret—once the destined bride of Henry himself
—became the fourth wife of his Justiciar, Hubert de Burgh.[808] In Ireland,

Geoffrey de Marsh had so misused his day of grace, by neglecting to fulfill
the promises which he had made to the King a year before, that his removal
could no longer be avoided; and just before Pandulf’s resignation letters in
the King’s name were sent to the native princes of Ireland and the barons of
the March, setting forth Geoffrey’s misdeeds and proclaiming that in
consequence of them, “we, being justly provoked thereto that we should
suffer him to rule our land of Ireland no more, do by the common counsel
and assent of ourself and of the magnates and faithful men of England
ordain that Henry Archbishop of Dublin shall have the custody and care of
that land till we shall determine otherwise.”[809] The letters patent
appointing the Archbishop Justiciar in Ireland had in fact been issued a
fortnight before;[810] but a formal surrender of the office by Geoffrey was
necessary before they could take effect. This surrender Geoffrey made on
October 25th.[811]
A new seneschal of Poitou and Gascony, Hugh of Vivonne, had been
appointed on 4th January.[812] He undertook the office with evident
reluctance and forebodings—or hopes—of a speedy return;[813] and at the
end of nine months he seems, like many another before him, to have found
himself unequal to the difficulties of the situation. A Gascon noble of
greater fame and a more highly trained and widely practised diplomatist
were sent both at once to relieve and supersede him. The first was Savaric
de Mauléon; the second was Pandulf. On 6th October the prelates, barons,
and people of Poitou and Gascony were informed that the King had
committed those two counties and their appurtenances to Savaric,[814] and
also that he was sending Pandulf—now described as “bishop elect of
Norwich, and chamberlain to the Pope”—into Poitou “for great and difficult
matters,” in which the inhabitants of the land were exhorted to give the ex-
Legate every assistance in their power.[815] Pandulf seems to have set out on
his mission immediately, and in the full expectation that it would be one of
considerable duration; on 12th October he had letters of protection for a
year from All Saints’ day.[816] The primary purpose of that mission was,
seemingly, to negotiate with Hugh of La Marche. Hugh and Isabel were still
clamouring for Isabel’s Aquitanian dower-lands; the English government
was determined not to restore these till Hugh had performed his homage
and surrendered the lands given him by John in pledge for the dowry of
Joan; which lands Hugh was equally determined to keep until his wife’s

claims were satisfied. By the end of September Hugh’s aggressions had
become so intolerable that the English Council retaliated by seizing into the
King’s hand all the lands held in England by Hugh and Isabel as part of
Isabel’s dower.[817] But to retaliate in Aquitaine itself was not so easy. One
great difficulty was, as usual, the want of money. The mayor and commune
of London stood surety for the King to the mayor and commune of La
Rochelle for the repayment of two loans, which the last-named city was
requested to make “for the safe-keeping and defence of our land of Poitou,”
the one of a thousand marks to Pandulf, the other of five hundred marks to
Engelard de Cigogné and Emeric de Sacy, who were despatched at the same
time as Pandulf, also on business “touching our land of Poitou.”[818] On 1st
November letters were addressed to the mayors and good men of Cognac,
Saintes, Angoulême, and Oléron, bidding them withdraw from all further
allegiance to the count of La Marche, and recognize no commands save
those of the King’s seneschal of Poitou.[819] No name was given to the
seneschal in this letter. The acting seneschal was still Hugh of Vivonne;
Savaric, it seems, was even more reluctant than Hugh had been to undertake
the office—he was probably more fully aware of its difficulty—and made
his acceptance of it dependent on the fulfilment of certain conditions,
whether political, military, or financial, there is nothing to show. The
English Council, in fact, at the very moment when they were thus writing
brave words to the Aquitanian towns, knew that their only hope of dealing
successfully with either Hugh de Lusignan or Savaric lay in the diplomacy
of Pandulf; and on 2nd November they commissioned the ex-Legate “to
procure in whatever way he could the making of a prolonged truce between
the King and the count of La Marche, and, having obtained this, to persuade
and exhort Savaric de Mauléon to hasten into the presence of the King, who
would (God willing) do what was right concerning his (Savaric’s) requests.
If, however, the elect of Norwich could not make a truce with the Count,
then let him devote his care and diligence to the carrying on of the King’s
business according to what had been determined in the King’s presence; and
let him deliver the care and custody of those parts to Savaric, inducing him
thereto as best he could, and causing him to be efficiently provided with
money for the defence of the land, according to the form which had been
given to him.”[820] The Council’s trust in the dexterity of Pandulf was not
misplaced. That he succeeded in making with La Marche a truce which
lasted through the winter and was succeeded in the spring by some more

definite agreement, may be gathered from the fact that nothing more is
heard of either Hugh or Isabel till April, 1222, and then 1222
the Queen’s English dower-lands were restored to her.
[821]
He was equally successful in “inducing” Savaric de Mauléon to
undertake the seneschalship of Aquitaine; an office for which Savaric was,
probably, by far the fittest man to whom it had ever been given, or offered,
since the recall of Hubert de Burgh.
Pandulf’s mission to Poitou has a significance beyond its actual results. It
indicates how large and disinterested was the view taken by him and by
Honorius of what the papal overlordship of England and guardianship of its
young King should involve. The foreign churchman who for two years and
a half had been, alike in right and in fact, supreme head of the government
in England had no sooner laid down his office there than he—of course
with the sanction of the Pope, whose chamberlain he still remained—placed
himself at the disposal of the English ministers of State, so lately his
subordinates, and accepted from them a diplomatic commission which
could bring no advantage of any kind either to himself or to the Roman See,
solely for the purpose of helping them and their young sovereign out of a
difficulty. On the other hand, the fact that these ministers, when no longer
under any necessity of admitting him to a share in their counsels, were so
ready to make use of his help and placed in him so much confidence as is
implied in the latitude of the powers with which they entrusted him on this
occasion, is a strong testimony to the estimation in which their previous
relations with him had led them to hold his character, his abilities, and his
devotion to the welfare of King and kingdom. As under William the
Marshal, so under Pandulf, we cannot tell whether the inner working of the
royal Council had been really as harmonious as its outward action appears,
nor how much of its harmony, inward or outward, was due to the regent.
Some indications of rivalry between certain of the King’s councillors seem
to be discernible before the close of Pandulf’s rule; but so far as we can see,
no open breach among them showed itself till some two years and a half
after his controlling hand was removed.
It is difficult to define precisely the composition, during the minority of
Henry III, of the body known as the King’s Council. That body included,
besides the Primate of all England, the justices, and the great officers of
State—justiciar, chancellor, treasurer,—certain persons who were called to

be members of it on personal rather than official grounds, such as Bishop
Peter of Winchester, Philip d’Aubigné, the Earl of Chester, and the King’s
uncle, Earl William of Salisbury. Since the spring of 1219 the most onerous
and important part of the work of government had been shared, under
Pandulf, between Hubert de Burgh and Peter des Roches; Hubert, as
Justiciar, naturally taking the more prominent part. Among our materials for
the history of the time we find no suggestion anywhere that they were other
than true yoke-fellows, till at Whitsuntide, 1221, there occurred the
mysterious affair of Peter de Maulay.[822] The only two chroniclers who
record De Maulay’s arrest say nothing more about its grounds than that he
was “accused of treason.” Falkes de Bréauté, four years later, asserted that
Peter de Maulay after dining at court was called into the King’s chamber as
if for some private discourse, and there denounced as a traitor who had
made a compact with the King of France to deliver into his hands the Lady
Eleanor of Brittany, Henry’s cousin, who had been a State prisoner in Corfe
castle for many years; moreover, according to Falkes, a greater personage
than the castellan of Corfe was involved in the accusation; it was asserted
that a ship to convey the lady over sea had been made ready by the Bishop
of Winchester, who at the time of the arrest was absent from England on a
pilgrimage to Compostella, and that the bishop was really gone not to pay
his devotions to S. James, but to talk over the plot with Philip Augustus.
Falkes declared that the only real plotters in the case were the Justiciar and
his “accomplices,” who for their own private ends had planned the arrest of
Peter de Maulay in the absence of Peter des Roches, and invented this story
against both; and he adds that they overwhelmed De Maulay with insults,
blows, and other indignities, and loaded him with chains, before they cast
him into prison.[823] Falkes’s story is almost certainly correct thus far, that
no real plot existed; for, whatever ill-treatment Peter de Maulay may have
undergone at the time of his arrest, his innocence was implicitly
acknowledged within less than a week, by his release as soon as he had
surrendered Corfe; and the accusation against the other Peter, if ever really
made, was clearly dropped at once and never revived. The whole plot seems
to have been a sheer fiction; but we can hardly accept Falkes’s account of
its origin. Hubert and Peter des Roches may have been jealous of each
other; and they may have differed on some questions of policy—perhaps,
amongst other things, as to the expediency or the justice of requiring
compliance with the letter of the recent oath about the surrender of castles,

in a case where a previous oath sworn to the late King could be pleaded
against it.[824] We should, however, require a more impartial authority than
Falkes to make us believe that Hubert’s jealousy and self-will goaded him
into an attempt to ruin his rival by a device at once so monstrous and so
clumsy as that which Falkes ascribes to him. He is far more likely to have
been duped into believing a story invented by some unscrupulous
subordinate who hoped that it might bring promotion to himself by serving
(as, no doubt, it did serve) to the attainment of an end—the surrender of
Corfe—which he knew the Justiciar had at heart, but which may not have
commended itself to the judgement of the Bishop of Winchester.
In his capacity of personal guardian, “master,” and instructor to the
young King, Bishop Peter had an assistant in Philip d’Aubigné, a man
whose valour and loyalty had been proved both on land and sea, and who
bore a high character alike in public and private life.[825] It seems to have
been in Philip’s charge that the boy had been left while the bishop made his
pilgrimage to S. James;[826] much against the will of Philip, who had taken
the Cross at the beginning of the year and was anxious to fulfill his vow.
[827]
He started as soon as he was set free by the bishop’s return.[828] The
Christian host besieged in Damietta was known to be in great straits, and
many volunteers from Europe were eager to reinforce it. On 19th
September Bishop Peter also took the Cross;[829] Falkes did the like about
the same time; and at the close of the year or beginning of the next they
were both preparing to set out, seemingly together, when they were stopped
by the tidings that Damietta had been surrendered.[830] The fact that Peter
contemplated such an expedition is significant. It shows that his tutorship of
the young King was at an end. Falkes says that it was pronounced—
seemingly by the other members of the Council under Hubert’s influence—
on Peter’s return from Spain, to be at an end, on the ground that Henry was
now beyond the age of pupilage.[831] The boy’s personal emancipation from
his tutor’s control, however, did not imply any emancipation from wardship
or tutelage in the legal sense; Henry’s school-days were over, but not his
minority.
The Christmas court was held at Winchester. On former occasions the
King, when he visited that city, seems to have been entertained by his tutor,
in the episcopal palace or castle of Wolvesey; this time, however, the royal

castle on the hill-top was specially made ready for his abode.[832] During
the festival season a quarrel broke out between Earl 1221–1222
Ranulf of Chester on the one part and the Earl of
Salisbury and the Justiciar on the other. High words passed, and Chester
seems to have uttered some threat of violence, for we hear that “the Earl of
Salisbury and the Justiciar, the governors of the King and kingdom,
manfully prepared themselves and their followers for resistance.”
Fortunately, however, there was now one member of the royal Council who
was outside of and above all party or personal disputes, and whose position
and character alike marked him out for the office of peacemaker. For six
years the Archbishop of Canterbury had been reduced to a subordinate
position, ecclesiastical and political, by the presence in England of a Papal
Legate; and during the last nine months of Pandulf’s legation Stephen had
been out of the country altogether. But he had now come back to his old
place as the highest ecclesiastical authority in the realm and the first adviser
of the Crown. “Pitying the King’s youth and lack of power,” he called his
suffragans together in council in London at Hilary-tide (1222), and in
concert with them threatened to “wield the spiritual sword against
disturbers of the realm and assailants of the King.” This threat brought the
contending parties to “concord and peace.”[833] Of the subject and origin of
this quarrel we know nothing. The sole writer who mentions it tells us that
“it was said, and many persons throughout England suspected and asserted,
that the foreigners, who were more desirous of disturbance than of peace in
the realm, were trying to stir up the Earl of Chester to give trouble to the
King and disquiet the kingdom.” Who were the particular “foreigners” thus
accused by rumour, who were the persons that spread the rumour, and what
it was that Chester really did, or threatened to do, or was suspected of
intending to do, is absolutely unknown. So far as the evidence goes, the
dispute may have been a purely personal one, and the Archbishop’s strong
measure may have been taken for the purpose of emphasizing the scandal
and the possible danger involved in a brawl at the King’s court between
men of such high rank and importance, rather than for that of checking any
actual or even supposed design of political disturbance or rebellion.
There was, indeed, an undercurrent of disturbance 1222
running beneath the surface of English politics; but the
disturbance, so far as can be seen, was not, as yet, of a party character,

though it contained elements which might easily combine so as to form a
serious danger to the government. The traces left by the war on the habits
and dispositions of the classes which had been engaged in it were far from
being wiped out even yet. The passion for tourneying which had seized
upon Englishmen after the close of their struggle with the invader still
required constant repression.[834] Moreover, the years of confusion had
brought back to England another continental practice which had never been
recognized as legal there since Stephen’s time, the practice of private war;
and so deeply had this evil custom taken root that it seems to have been
tolerated by the King’s guardians without protest, except when it brought a
belligerent into direct collision with the authority of the Crown. We have
seen how one magnate who was actually a member of the Council, Earl
William of Salisbury, had to be prevented by Falkes, acting under a royal
order, from forcibly ousting a rival custodian from Lincoln castle. He
avenged himself on Falkes by stirring up against him some of the chief men
of Devon and Cornwall, one of them being the sheriff of these two counties,
Robert de Courtenay. These men banded themselves together in March,
1221, for a combined plundering raid on Falkes’s lands in 1221
Devonshire, “but,” wrote Falkes to the Justiciar, “that day
they received letters from the Earl of Salisbury bidding them not move, on
account of a truce made between him and me till the quindene of Easter; to
which truce—so he told them—he had consented in order that he might
make use of the interval in Lincolnshire.”[835] Robert de Courtenay,
nevertheless, not only forcibly prevented the shipping of corn from Falkes’s
manor of Exminster to revictual Falkes’s castle of Plympton, but seized the
corn, and flogged and imprisoned one of Falkes’s boatmen, alleging that he
had orders from the King to let no corn go out of the harbour of Exminster.
Falkes asked the Justiciar to put a stop to this flagrant violation by a sheriff
of the rights of private property; but the tone of his letter shews that he
regarded, and expected Hubert to regard, his struggle with Longsword as
quite another matter, one in which each of the belligerents was free to act as
he thought good, without reference to the government.[836] Another
illustration of the same evil occurs fifteen months later. 1222
The castle of Dinas Powys, in Glamorgan, was in the
hands of the Earl Marshal, but belonged of right to Gilbert Earl of
Gloucester. The Marshal surrendered it to the King in Gilbert’s presence in
London, that it might be delivered to a representative of the King, who in

his turn should restore it to its owner. Gilbert, instead of waiting for the
completion of this quite ordinary procedure, gathered his followers and
prepared to march upon the castle, if he did not actually lay siege to it, in
July, 1222. He was officially told that the King was “greatly astonished,”
not, it would seem, at his taking the law into his own hands in any case, but
merely at his doing so after the transfer of the castle had been agreed upon
in the King’s presence and undertaken by the King himself.[837] The
crowning instance of lawlessness occurred a fortnight later; and this time
the offenders were neither foreign soldiers of fortune nor English earls, but
citizens of London.
From time immemorial the fields around the Tower 1222
had served as a holiday resort for the younger citizens,
who spent their leisure time there in wrestling and other athletic sports. A
trial of strength and skill in wrestling was arranged to take place hard by
Queen Matilda’s Hospital, between the young men of the city and those of
the suburbs, on S. James’s day, 25th July. The citizens won the match.
Among their antagonists was the Abbot of Westminster’s steward; and he
brooded over his own defeat and that of his comrades till he devised a way
to avenge it. First, he sent out a general notice inviting all who would to
come to a wrestling match at Westminster on the next holiday, the feast of
S. Peter in Chains, 1st August; the prize was to be a ram. Next, he gathered
on his own side a picked band of strong and expert wrestlers, and secretly
provided them with arms. The unsuspecting citizens came in crowds; for a
while the wrestlers seemed equally matched; suddenly the Westminster side
produced their weapons. The unarmed Londoners were soon overcome;
beaten and wounded, they fled helter-skelter into the city. A mighty tumult
arose; the common bell was rung, a mass-meeting was held, schemes of
vengeance were proposed. Serlo the mayor, “a prudent and peaceable man,”
advised that a complaint should be laid before the Abbot of Westminster,
and urged that if the abbot would make a fitting compensation on behalf of
himself and his men, “all ought to be satisfied.” The angry citizens,
however, were more inclined to listen to a certain Constantine Olaveson, “a
great man in the city,” who proposed that “all the abbot’s buildings” and his
seneschal’s house should be pulled down;[838] and next morning an armed
mob made a raid upon Westminster. Their first intention was to attack the
church; but from this “some wise man” dissuaded them,[839] and they

contented themselves with pulling down the steward’s house and doing as
much damage as they could to his property and that of the abbot.[840]
The Justiciar was at this time in the west of England.[841] It chanced,
however, that Philip d’Aubigné on his return from the East reached London
a few days after the riot had taken place; and to him the Abbot of
Westminster went to complain of the violence which he and his men had
suffered. The Londoners at once came “like bees” about the house where
Philip and the abbot were, forcibly carried off twelve of the abbot’s horses,
beat his servants, ill-treated the knights who accompanied him, and tried to
capture the abbot himself. Philip d’Aubigné vainly endeavoured to quell the
tumult; the abbot was obliged to slip out by a back-door and escape in a
boat, in peril of his life from the stones which the citizens flung after him.
[842]
On 12th or 13th August Hubert reached London.[843] He at once called
together the mayor and aldermen and demanded the names of the
ringleaders. Constantine boldly answered for himself, asserting that he
“would give a warrant” for his action, and openly expressing regret that he
“had done less than rightly should have been done.”[844] His boast of a
warrant was disquieting; for in the midst of the attack on Westminster he
had shouted aloud “Montjoie! Montjoie! God and our lord Louis be our
aid!” and his nephew and another citizen, Geoffrey by name, had echoed
the cry.[845] Hubert had taken the precaution to bring with him to the Tower
a band of men-at-arms under the command of Falkes. He caused
Constantine, his nephew, and Geoffrey to be imprisoned for the night; next
morning, by his order, Falkes and his men secretly led them out to be
hanged. Constantine, when he found a rope round his neck, offered fifteen
thousand marks for his life, but in vain; “You will stir up no more seditions
in the King’s city,” was the grim reply of Falkes.[846] Having thus got the
execution over without the citizens’ knowledge, Hubert rode with Falkes
and his soldiers through the city, seized as many as he could of those who
had been concerned in the riot, flung them into prison, caused their hands or
their feet to be cut off, and then let them go; the rest were so terrified by this
severity that many “fled never to return.” The hapless mayor and aldermen
who had been incapable of controlling the populace under their charge were
deposed; the city had to give hostages for its good behaviour, and was only
after long deliberation on the part of the Council admitted to reconciliation
with the Crown on payment of a heavy fine.[847] Hubert’s drastic measures

were effectual in preventing further disturbance in the capital; but of course
“it seemed to some persons,” as a chronicler says, that Constantine had
been tried and executed “more hastily than was fitting.”[848]
In Aquitaine the respite from trouble won by the diplomacy of Pandulf at
the beginning of 1222 lasted through the summer. A safe-conduct to the
count of La Marche to come and speak with the King in England was issued
in June,[849] and another in August.[850] He was evidently thought to be
really coming this time, for the Bishop of Winchester was sent across the
sea to meet and escort him;[851] but he did not come. The sentence of
excommunication issued against him two years before had never yet been
published, but it had never been withdrawn, and the Pope seems to have
now directed his commissioners, the Bishops of Saintes and Limoges and
the Dean of Bordeaux, to publish it on S. Andrew’s day. The royal Council,
however, shrank from driving Hugh to extremity; and early in November
they sent Philip of Aubigné and the Abbot of Boxley to make another effort
for a peaceful settlement with him and Isabel, and begged the papal
commissioners to give him a further respite till the result of these
negotiations should appear.[852] Meanwhile the new seneschal of Poitou had
taken up his task with a firm and vigorous hand; but he was hampered by
the want of money, like his predecessors, and also by the hostility of the
towns, which disliked him doubly because he was not only a baron of
considerable social and political importance in the land, but also a man of
independent character and determined will. He stuck to his post for ten or
eleven months, and then, in September or October, went to England. A full
discussion of Aquitanian politics and administration seems to have taken
place between him and the royal Council, in the presence of representatives
from La Rochelle, Niort, S. Jean d’Angély, Bordeaux, the viscount of
Thouars, and possibly some other towns and barons; a whole bundle of
letters patent and close, issued in consequence of these deliberations,
indicate that the Council, conscious of having at last secured a fit man as
governor, was now ready to give him all the moral support in its power.[853]
Unluckily it had little other support to give him. It was not till February
(1223) that Philip d’Aubigné and his fellow commissioner succeeded in
coming to any agreement with Hugh of Lusignan; and then the result of
their labours was merely another truce, to last till 1st August.[854] Four more
months passed; Hugh and Isabel continued impenitent; so on 25th June the

Pope again threatened them with excommunication.[855] Three weeks later,
however, an event took place which led to another change in the policy of
the English government towards the count of La Marche. This was the
death, on 14th July,[856] of King Philip Augustus of France.
When the treaty between Henry and Louis was made, 1223
in September, 1217, both parties, as we have seen, bound
themselves by oath to certain conditions which are not mentioned in the
copies of that treaty which have come down to us. Henry swore to maintain
inviolate those liberties of the English barons and people which had served
as one of the pretexts for Louis’s invasion; Louis swore that he “would do
his utmost to induce his father to restore the English King to all his rights in
the parts beyond the sea.”[857] Naturally the English Council construed this
as binding Louis, if the restoration were not effected in his father’s lifetime,
to make it himself as soon as it was in his own power. They at once took the
matter up with a high hand. Pandulf, now Bishop of Norwich,[858] urged the
Pope to forbid that any one should crown Louis until the promised
restitution to Henry was made.[859] The Archbishop of Canterbury and the
Bishops of London and Salisbury undertook the double duty of presenting
to Louis himself a formal demand for the fulfilment of his promise, and to
the Archbishop of Reims a protest against his coronation if the demand
were not at once satisfied.[860] Letters patent had already been issued in the
King’s name to the barons, knights, and good men of Normandy, calling on
them to return to their allegiance, “since the opportunity is now at hand,”
and promising, if they did so, restitution to each man, according to his
rights, of the lands in England which they lost when the King’s father lost
Normandy, and such further rewards as their service should deserve.[861]
Preparations were made for collecting a fleet; all ships coming into English
ports were ordered to be seized, emptied of their contents (which were to be
stored up safely for return to the owners), and sent to Portsmouth for the
King’s service.[862] The Forest districts of the southern counties were
bidden to send to Porchester large supplies of “hurdles for the ships,”[863]
and on 9th August the barons of the Cinque Ports were summoned to come
to Portsmouth “with the whole service which they owe to the King, and
with their ships, with the first favourable wind, to go with the King in his
service.”[864]

All this was a practical defiance of Louis. But to set Louis at defiance
without endeavouring to secure the adherence, or at any rate the neutrality,
of La Marche and Angoulême would have been simply to court defeat. Two
days before the King’s truce with Hugh expired, therefore, two of the places
in dispute between Hugh and the King—the city of Saintes and the castle of
Merpins—with the town of Cognac and the castle of Belmont, were
committed to Hugh to hold “till the King’s coming of age,” “as he held
them on the Saturday before the feast of S. Peter in Chains” in the
preceding year; two envoys (of whom one was Geoffrey de Neville) were
despatched to take security from him “for his good and faithful service, and
that he would faithfully do his utmost to advance the King’s interest and
procure his honour till the term before mentioned”;[865] and on 4th August
the holder of the papal mandate for Hugh’s excommunication was desired
to deal with it only as the same two envoys should direct.[866]
Contrary winds detained Archbishop Stephen and his fellow-ambassadors
in England[867] for more than a week. When they reached the French court,
Louis was already crowned.[868] He seems to have declined to make any
immediate answer to their demands, and adjourned the matter to the octave
of All Saints.[869] The delay was probably not unwelcome to Henry’s
counsellors, who at that moment had their hands full with a Welsh war. The
pacification at Shrewsbury in July, 1221, seems to have been followed by
an unusually long period of comparative tranquillity on the Marches of
Wales. It was probably this condition of affairs which, when it had lasted
for sixteen months, encouraged the King’s representatives to venture on
what looks like a very bold step in the prosecution of their schemes for
asserting the royal authority over the castles. On 11th November, 1222, the
Earl Marshal was informed by letter patent that “as the 1222
castle of Caerleon with its appurtenances, which is in
your hand, ought to be held of us in chief, it is provided by our common
council that that castle shall be delivered into our hand; and therefore we
strictly command that you, without delay or excuse, surrender that castle
with its appurtenances to us, and afterwards we will cause full justice to be
done in our court to you and to any others who may have aught to say about
it.”[870] For this demand it is hardly possible to conceive any motive save
one: a desire to obtain from the Marshal, by way of example and precedent,
a practical acknowledgement of the King’s right to take into his own hands,

when he pleased, a castle held of the Crown not merely in custody, but in
fee. If, however, this was the purpose the Council had in view, they were ill-
advised in their choice of a time for making the demand; the Marshal, if not
already in Ireland, was on the point of setting out to spend the winter there.
[871]
Possibly the King’s letter never reached him; if it did, he had a fair
excuse for not acting upon it till his return. A second letter, written on 26th
January, 1223, desired him to surrender Caerleon before the close of Easter
“because we do not deem it advisable that you should hold it beyond that
term.”[872] But when he came back, in Passion Week, the Welsh March was
in turmoil from one end to the other, and the Council were only too glad to
make the utmost possible use of his ready co-operation in restoring the
English supremacy in South Wales. Such a moment was clearly inopportune
for taking an important border stronghold out of the hands of a defender at
once so capable and so loyal; and more than three years passed away before
the King ventured to renew his demand.
Llywelyn had taken advantage of the Marshal’s absence to organize an
attack on the English border. Early in 1223 he besieged, took, and utterly
destroyed two castles in Shropshire, Kinnerley and Whittington.[873] The
Justiciar, taking the King with him, went at the beginning of March to
Shrewsbury, seemingly to demand or compel satisfaction from Llywelyn.
The Earl of Chester came forward as mediator, offering himself as surety
for Llywelyn’s compliance with the demand within a given time; and the
intended punitive attack on Wales was suspended accordingly.[874] But
meanwhile tidings of Llywelyn’s outbreak had reached the Marshal in
Ireland, and in the middle of April[875] he “came up to land” somewhere in
South Wales “with a vast fleet,” carrying “a multitude of cavalry and
infantry.”[876] Hubert seems to have expected his arrival, and sent a
messenger to meet him with a request that he would keep truce with
Llywelyn for another fortnight, in the hope that Llywelyn might yet fulfill
the promise made for him by Chester, although the time fixed for its
fulfilment had already expired.[877] The delay proved useless; and on Easter
Monday (24 April) Earl William marched upon Cardigan. “On that day the
castle was delivered to him, and on the Wednesday following he drew to
Caermarthen, and obtained that castle also.”[878] Llywelyn, on hearing what
had occurred, sent his son Gruffudd “with a very numerous army to oppose
the Earl”; they met at Kidwelly and fought “for the greater part of the day”;

Gruffudd seems to have been worsted, and “for lack of provision returned
back to his country.”[879]
The Marshal hereupon busied himself with the repair of Caermarthen
castle[880] till at the end of May a royal letter patent bade him, “forasmuch
as it is determined by our Council that the castles of Caermarthen and
Cardigan, which you have taken, should be retained in our own hand,”
deliver both places to Robert de Vaux to hold during the King’s pleasure.
[881]
Llywelyn had certainly proved himself utterly undeserving of the
confidence in his loyalty which had induced the regent Earl Marshal to
entrust him with the custody of these two important strongholds; and if the
regent’s son was not actually commissioned by the Council to recover them
by force, it could at any rate have no scruples in approving his action and
reaping its fruit for the benefit of the Crown. A day in July was next
appointed for Llywelyn and the Marshal to lay their mutual complaints
before the King and Council. The meeting took place at Ludlow, seemingly
between 6th and 10th July,[882] but the parties “could not be
reconciled.”[883] The Council had apparently not expected a reconciliation,
and had come prepared for war. On the 11th the sheriffs of Devon and
Herefordshire were bidden to take care that no men of their respective
shires should send (by sea in the case of Devon), any supplies to, or hold
any communication with, Llywelyn and his Welsh adherents, but that all
merchants and markets should follow the King’s army to South Wales, “that
is, to our lands of Caermarthen and Cardigan, and to the lands of our
faithful Earl William the Marshal.”[884] An effort was made to detach the
Welsh of Deheubarth and Powys from obedience to their North-Welsh lord;
the Earls of Pembroke and Salisbury were empowered to receive into the
King’s grace “all the Welsh of South Wales who would return to the King’s
fealty and service”;[885] the sons of Gwenwynwyn of Powys, who since
Gwenwynwyn’s death in 1216 had been living in England as wards or
prisoners of the Crown, and were now in Bridgenorth castle under the care
or in the custody of Earl Ranulf of Chester, were brought to the King’s
court at Gloucester, and all men of the lands which had belonged to their
father were invited to “come to the sons of Gwenwynwyn and to the King’s
fealty and peace”;[886] a host of English barons and knights marched into
Wales under the command of the Marshal and his friend Longsword.[887]

The King and the Justiciar were recalled to London, partly, no doubt, by
the weighty news from France, and partly by the necessity of receiving the
titular King of Jerusalem, John of Brienne, who was travelling through
western Europe to collect forces and funds for the recovery of his kingdom
from the Turks. An “aid for the Holy Land,” of three marks from every earl,
one mark from every baron, twelve pence from every knight, and one penny
from every free tiller of the soil and every free man who had no land, but
had chattels to the value of half a mark, had been agreed upon by the great
Council of the realm in 1222,[888] but had never been collected.[889] No
Christian sovereign, however, could evade the duty of giving at least a
personal welcome, even if he gave nothing more, to the successor of
Godfrey of Bouillon. John seems to have crossed from France to England at
the end of August.[890] On 1st or 2nd September the English King and
Primate received him “solemnly and with great honours” at Canterbury, and
escorted him to London.[891] His visit was a brief one, and the hospitality
which he received in England was probably amply requited by the gift of
four large sapphires—“than which we never saw finer,” says Matthew Paris
—which he, “out of his innate munificence,” on his way back offered at the
shrine of S. Thomas at Canterbury.[892]
As soon as their royal guest was gone, King and Justiciar hurried back to
the Welsh border. The English host under the Marshal and the Earl of
Salisbury had apparently set out with the intention of joining the Marshal’s
other forces in Pembrokeshire. It was caught by Gruffudd in one of the
intricate passes of the Welsh hills, and narrowly escaped destruction,[893]
but it seems to have cut its way through; and the Marshal set to work to
fortify “the lands which he occupied,”—that is, doubtless, the districts of
Caermarthen and Gower—by founding new castles and repairing old ones.
[894]
Llywelyn’s next diversion was to lay siege, early in September,[895] to
Reginald de Breuse’s castle of Builth, with such a numerous force that
Reginald immediately applied to the Crown for help.[896] On 12th
September the host was summoned to meet the King “with all haste” at
Gloucester,[897] and march with him to the relief of Builth. The expedition
probably set out from Hereford on the 19th or 20th. Its mere approach
sufficed to raise the siege; on the 23rd King and Justiciar were back at
Hereford.[898]

It was not the first time, nor was it to be the last, that the Welsh fled
before Hubert de Burgh. He now led the King and the host from Hereford to
Leominster and Shrewsbury, and thence, on the last day of September, to
Montgomery,[899] passing through Llywelyn’s lands and driving the flocks
and herds before them as they went, to serve for the sustenance of the
troops. The castle of Montgomery, originally built by one of the most
famous of the followers of William the Conqueror, had been more than once
destroyed by the Welsh. Its site, which had sufficed for the simple Norman
keep reared by the first Earl of Shrewsbury, was probably not suited for
more elaborate fortifications such as were used in the thirteenth century; it
served, however, to shelter the King and the Justiciar; and some of “the
wiser men of the army,” while scouring the country around it under
Hubert’s orders, found “a place fit for building a castle whose position,
everyone thought, would be impregnable.”[900] Urgent orders were
despatched to the sheriff of Shropshire for an immediate supply of building
materials and tools, and the work was begun at once.[901] Meanwhile
Llywelyn had been excommunicated by Archbishop Stephen. On 7th or 8th
October, at Montgomery, the Prince once more came and made submission
to King and Primate, Stephen dictating the terms. Llywelyn swore that
within a reasonable time, to be fixed by the Archbishop, and in a fitting
place, he would make satisfaction to the King and the King’s men for all
damages done by himself and his men since the day of the taking of
Kinnerley. Six lesser Welsh chieftains swore with him; each of the seven
embodied his engagement in a charter; and on these conditions Llywelyn
was absolved.[902] Moreover, he at once gave the King seisin of Kinnerley
and Whittington, that he might restore them to their former owners; and
Henry gave back to Llywelyn and his men seisin of all that they had held in
fee on the day of the capture of Kinnerley, subject to a trial of counterclaims
at the date fixed for Llywelyn’s promised satisfaction[903]—that date being
Candlemas, 1224.[904] This conditional restitution of course did not include
Cardigan and Caermarthen, which Llywelyn had held merely as custodian
for the Crown. On 7th November these two castles were committed to the
only man in whose keeping they were likely to be safe—the Earl Marshal.
[905]

The time fixed by Louis for answering Henry’s demand for the
restoration of his continental heritage had now come. On 10th October an

embassy consisting of Bishops Pandulf of Norwich and John of Ely, Philip
d’Aubigné, and Richard de Rivers, had been accredited to France to receive
Louis’s reply, and to treat with him concerning a prolongation of the truce,
[906]
which would expire in April, 1224. These envoys met with a very
unfavourable reception. Louis declared that the whole continental
possessions of the Angevin house had been by a legal judgement escheated
to the French Crown;[907] that they were therefore his by right—a right
which, he added, he was prepared to prove in his own court, if the King of
England would come and submit to its judgement; and that moreover the
agreement to which he had sworn in England was no longer binding upon
him, inasmuch as it had been doubly broken on the English side, first by the
exaction of heavy ransoms from his partisans who had been captured at
Lincoln, and secondly in that “the liberties of the realm of England, for
which the war had been waged and which at his departure had been granted
and sworn to by all, had been so dealt with that not only those most evil
laws were brought back into use as of old, but others still more wicked were
generally established throughout the realm.”[908] He wound up his harangue
to the envoys with a distinct threat, which he charged them to repeat to
those who had sent them: not only would he restore nothing, but he
intended, when opportunity should offer, to prosecute his claim to the
English Crown, as having been taken from John by a legal sentence and
granted by the barons of England to himself.[909] Although the truce had
still six months to run, the cry of Constantine Olaveson must have rung
ominously in the ears of Hubert de Burgh when the French King’s
complaints and threats were repeated to him,[910] even if the return of the
envoys did not—as it most probably did—coincide with the most alarming
outbreak of baronial discontent with which the government had had to deal
since Louis left England.
The abolition of the regency before the King attained his majority had
inevitably resulted in giving a great increase of power to the Justiciar.
Under a sovereign of full age the Justiciar was the King’s lieutenant; it was
on him that the supreme powers and functions of government temporarily
devolved when the King himself was absent from the realm. It followed
almost of necessity that when there ceased to be a person specially set apart
to exercise those powers and functions for a King under age, they fell into
the Justiciar’s hands. This result of Pandulf’s resignation could not be

altogether pleasing to some, at least, of the other members of the Council,
or of the magnates outside the Council. It was one thing, first to accept the
autocracy of a ruler whom they had unanimously chosen out of their own
ranks on the score of his transcendent personal merits, and, afterwards, to
yield to the dictates of one who legally represented a power acknowledged
by all as superior to that of the Crown itself; it was quite another matter to
be ruled by Sir Hubert de Burgh, and to be, moreover, confronted with a
prospect of being ruled by him till Henry’s coming of age—an event which
seemed almost as remote as ever, since, the date originally intended for it
being past, it was now seemingly regarded as deferred till his twenty-first
birthday.[911] Nominally, of course, Hubert governed in concert with his
colleagues of the royal Council. But with the control of the executive in his
hands, and no authority capable of overriding him nearer than Rome, he
was practically master of the Council. There were only two other members
of it who could under any circumstances have sufficient weight in
themselves to act as a check upon him. Both officially and personally
Stephen de Langton was a greater man than Hubert de Burgh. The
Archbishop of Canterbury was not only the highest ecclesiastical authority
in the land, he was also the first adviser of the Crown; and Archbishop
Stephen had long ago proved himself a statesman of a far higher order than
any other then living in England. But Stephen had never desired to be a
leader in secular affairs; and he seems to have come home in 1221 resolved
to take as little direct share in politics as possible. His one recorded public
act, for more than two years after his return, was the holding, at Oseney in
April, 1222, of a great Church council[912] for the 1222
settlement of ecclesiastical discipline and administration
on the basis of a set of canons which he had drawn up and on which the law
of the Church of England is grounded to this day. When he did intervene in
temporal matters, his character, even more than his office, gave to his
intervention a special importance which all parties seem to have felt and
acknowledged. The Bishop of Winchester’s position was wholly different.
“Peter des Roches was as hard as a rock,” said the monks of his cathedral
chapter;[913] which seems to imply at any rate that his conduct as a bishop
did not err on the side of neglect or laxity in matters of order and discipline.
His material benefactions to his church, and the diligence and ability with
which he managed the temporal concerns of his see, were indisputable; and
there is nothing to indicate that he failed in any of his episcopal duties. But

Peter was ambitious of exercising his talents in a wider field than that of
diocesan administration; and his talents were great enough to justify his
ambition. After his death Matthew Paris declared that “the whole council of
the realm of England, royal as well as ecclesiastical, had suffered an
irreparable loss” in losing him.[914] Under Pandulf he and Hubert had
worked together almost as equals; but before the end of the year 1221 Peter
found himself Hubert’s subordinate, and found, too, that his chance of
regaining at a future time his former influence in matters of state was
diminishing day by day; for though the King’s ex-tutor retained his seat in
the Council, the King had virtually become Hubert’s pupil instead of his.
There was only one possible means of altering this state of things: to put
Henry into possession, if not of full regal powers, at least of some voice in
the government of his own realm, something like a decisive vote in his own
Council. If this were done, the Justiciar’s supremacy would become
dependent on his personal influence over the King’s mind; and if it were
done quickly, while that mind was still young and tender and had not yet
had time to take the mould of Hubert’s political teaching, Peter might fairly
hope to be more than a match for Hubert. A suggestion that something of
this kind should be done seems to have been conveyed to the Pope from
England at some time before the middle of April, 1223,[915] and to have
been either coupled with, or accompanied or followed by, a request that the
Pope would issue some instructions concerning the royal castles. When the
result of these two suggestions appeared, the onus of responsibility for it
fell upon Hubert; Hubert, however, in later days declared that the Pope’s
action in the matter had been instigated by the Bishop of Winchester,
against the interests of Hubert himself. Meanwhile a number of the
magnates had for some time past been murmuring among themselves
against the Justiciar, resenting his haughty bearing and his (in their opinion)
high-handed judicial decisions in cases where they were concerned, and
“saying to one another that he stirred up the King’s mind against them, and
likewise that he ruled the kingdom by unjust laws.”[916] A step which he
took at the beginning of 1223 aggravated their resentment and their distrust.
On 30th January orders were issued in the King’s name for the sheriffs to
inquire in full county court, by a sworn jury of twelve knights, what
customs and liberties King John had in the shires before the war between
him and the barons began; to proclaim the result of the inquest in full