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.

[Sidenote: 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 11. 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, 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]

[Sidenote: 1217]

Thus by the beginning of February, 1217, Louis’s 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 {_1216 21 Dec._} Louis had marched upon S. Alban’s and 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 {_1217 22 Jan._}, at 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] {Jan.} A detachment of Royalists, protected by, if not 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 {_Sunday, 23 April_}, their occupants saw the huts 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 {12 May}--the day on which Louis set up his trebuchet at 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 {Tues., 16 May}, as a breathing-time for 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 {_Trinity Sunday, 21 May_}, came news of another gain to the royal cause; the garrison of Mountsorel, whose constable, Henry de Braybroke, had 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 {23 May} an order was issued 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 {29 May} the ships “came 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 {30 May} he sent 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 {Wed., 23 Aug.} he, with the Earl of Warren, King John’s elder son Richard,[258] 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 {24 Aug.} they 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 {5 Sept.}. He frankly committed himself into their hands and those 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 {9 Sept.}, however, as they were about 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 {Wed., 13 Sept.} the Legate and the bishops put on their silken 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 {18 Sept.} the peace was 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:

[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.