Читать книгу The Minority of Henry the Third - Kate Norgate - Страница 4

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

1216

On the 19th of October, 1216, King John lay dead in 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 {27 Oct.}—ten days after 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 {28 Oct.} the “pretty little knight, clad in his little royal robes,”[10] 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 {29 Oct.} Ranulf of Chester arrived, just as they 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 1111 Nov.. When the council met, it comprised the whole strength of the 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 {12 Nov.} there was issued a provisional Charter, 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, 1217,1217 Louis called his 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]