The Plantagenets: The Kings That Made Britain (7 page)

John arrived home to a realm on the brink of rebellion. Taxed beyond endurance in order to finance what they now regarded as a lost cause, many of the barons were determined to assert their rights against the crown. And they were not alone. The senior clergy still smarted over the exactions they had suffered during the interdict, and burghers of several towns felt that the king had trampled on their ancient liberties. John met a delegation of the discontented barons in London in January 1215, listened to their demands and managed to persuade them to take no further action till Easter. In the interval, both sides sent to Rome for the support of Innocent, their liege lord.

John now indicated his intention of going on crusade. Whether this was a serious vow or one designed to win the approval of the church and defer indefinitely having to meet his discontented subjects is not clear. What is clear is that it
did not impress the barons. Robert Fitzwalter summoned 40 malcontents to meet him at Northampton in May, and they marched on London. The rebels also knew how to cloak their actions with piety – they called their host the ‘Army of God’ – but rebels they were. They had renounced their obedience to John and sent to Philip II for aid. For his part, John brought in foreign mercenaries. Fitzwalter’s men made a valuable coup when the gates of London were thrown open to them by dissident citizens. Exeter and Lincoln also sided with the rebels.

John now knew that he would have to discuss the barons’ grievances or, at least, make a show of so doing. The king was at Windsor, and the rebels had pitched their camp at Staines, so a midway location was decided on, a Thameside meadow at Runnymede. There both parties met on 15 June 1215. John set his seal to a draft agreement called the Articles of the Barons and, on the 19th of the month, after four days of haggling and transcribing, Magna Carta was ready to receive endorsement with the great seal.

Now considered to be the foundation stone of English constitutional rights, the Magna Carta did not have that significance at the time. As a document guaranteeing the liberties of John’s subjects, it failed because John simply ignored it. But it was a unique and novel definition of the relationship between king and people, and, once that definition had been made, it could not be unmade.

Magna Carta was a list of demands under 63 headings, drafted principally by Archbishop Stephen Langton who ensured the interests of the church were covered. The right
of the church to elect its own bishops and other senior clergy without royal interference was guaranteed. The ancient privileges of the city of London were to be upheld, and merchants were assured of free movement to ply their trade, except in times of war, when foreign merchants were to be detained ‘until we or our justiciar know how the merchants of our land are treated in the enemy country’.

The rebels tried to give the charter administrative teeth by inserting a clause permitting the barons to appoint 25 of their number to ensure the king’s compliance. The drafters of the charter claimed to be doing no more than holding the king to his coronation oath. In fact, Magna Carta was a denial of the king’s sovereignty, and John could scarcely have been expected to abide by its provisions. He soon had the backing of Innocent III in rejecting it. The pope denounced Magna Carta as illegal and unjust and threatened the barons and their associates with excommunication if they forced the king to adhere to it. The pope, who had appointed Stephen Langton to his office in the face of firm opposition from John, now suspended the archbishop for not backing the king against his barons.

Now civil war broke out in earnest, and all John’s enemies made common cause. The rebels invited Louis to come from France and accept the crown. Llewelyn-ap-Iorwerth reestablished control of most of Wales. The barons invited King Alexander II to come down from Scotland and invested him with considerable lands in the far north of England. But John, faced with the real prospect of losing England as well as his continental possessions, fought like a tiger. He captured
Rochester Castle after a determined seven-week siege, then marched northwards at the head of his mercenaries. His object was to terrify his subjects into submission.

John advanced into Scotland, harried the Lowlands and burned Berwick to the ground (January 1216). Within two months he was in East Anglia, laying siege to Colchester. In May Louis crossed the Channel and marched to London, where he was warmly welcomed. Alexander II came south in person to pay homage to the French prince. All seemed lost, but John refused to give in. In September he was in Lincolnshire. In October he was victorious in a skirmish at King’s Lynn. Days later he was on his way northwards again. As he crossed the estuary of the River Welland his baggage train foundered in quicksand with the loss of his household goods and treasure. His spirit was not bowed by the procession of disasters, but his body was failing. He fell prey to dysentery. By 18 November he had reached Newark. There, during the following night, he died.

HENRY III 1216–72

Henry III was nine years old when he succeeded his father John, and he reigned for 56 years, longer than any other medieval king. In fact, his record stood for almost 600 years – until the reign of George III (1760–1820). This should suggest that under his rule England enjoyed a long period of stability and peace, something that was greatly needed after the conflicts between crown and barons that had disturbed his father’s reign.

No longer did the king have to divide his time between possessions on both sides of the English Channel, and the basis of sound and just government had been laid down in Magna Carta. Unfortunately, things did not work out like that. Henry inherited a bankrupt treasury and was obliged to rely on unpopular taxes. He also showed himself to be insensitive and incompetent. As a result the later years of his reign saw a return to civil war.

1216–27

These were the years of Henry’s minority. The affairs of the kingdom were put in the hands of a group of regents who had been involved in John’s government and who enjoyed the respect of most of the barons. Prominent among them were William Marshal, Earl of Pembroke, and the justiciar, Hubert de Burgh. Much of the baronial opposition faded
with the death of John, but Louis of France still controlled much of southeast England and was supported by some of Henry’s barons. The priority faced by the government was to expel the French invaders. On 20 May 1217 William Marshal defeated Louis’ army at Lincoln, but this was not the end of the war. Louis expected considerable reinforcements, organized by his formidable wife, Blanche of Castile. She assembled a fleet of 80 ships in Calais, ten carrying over a hundred knights with their troops and the remainder loaded with vital military supplies. The leader of the expedition was Robert de Courtenai, the French queen’s uncle. However, the most experienced naval commander in the fleet was Eustace the Monk, an ex-Benedictine turned mercenary pirate, who, from his base in the Channel Islands, had carried out raids on the French and English coasts.

Hubert de Burgh hastened to gather a naval force to confront the French and was able to put to sea some 40 or so vessels. The French set out on 24 August, a fine day when they could clearly see the cliffs of Dover. De Burgh’s ships sailed to meet them, and thus began one of the more remarkable engagements in English naval history.

The two fleets met off Sandwich. De Burgh made as if to engage the enemy, then slipped past them. Eustace the Monk advised the admiral to make for the Thames estuary with all speed, but Robert de Courtenai, confident of defeating the enemy with his larger force, turned to fight. Now de Burgh’s stratagem was revealed. He came upon the French downwind, assailing them first with crossbow bolts, then, at closer range, with pots of quicklime, which smashed on the enemy
decks throwing up a blinding dust. In the confusion the English were able to board, capture several knights for ransom and massacre many of the soldiers and sailors. Only 15 French ships were able to escape. Eustace tried to escape by hiding below decks, but he was found and dragged out. He offered a 10,000 mark ransom, but his captors were more interested in revenging themselves on the treacherous pirate who had caused such havoc over the years. Eustace was summarily decapitated and his body was paraded through the streets of Dover and Canterbury. De Burgh’s clever tactics (the first recorded instance of such a manoeuvre in English naval history) resulted in a valuable haul of ships and military equipment. Some of the booty was sold, and St Bartholomew’s Hospital was set up near Sandwich as a thanksgiving for the victory. More importantly, it deprived Louis of the reinforcements he needed to continue his conquest of England, and he was forced to enter into peace talks with William Marshal.

By a treaty agreed at Kingston in September, Louis recognized Henry as king of England, acknowledged his right to the Channel Islands, promised to help him recover his father’s continental possessions and agreed never to aid Henry’s rebellious subjects. In return, William Marshal agreed to pay Louis £7,000. Some barons were angry with the aged regent for paying off the French king and not pressing home his military advantage, but William was concerned to put a rapid end to all the fighting and rivalries that were unsettling the young king’s realm. William Marshal died in May 1219 after a long life of faithful service to the crown.

A year later Henry had a full coronation at Westminster. The ceremony carried out immediately after John’s death had been a hurried affair, but now the young king did obeisance to the pope for his lands and also confirmed Magna Carta. Under the tutelage of de Burgh and his other councillors Henry gradually assumed more and more executive authority. In 1223, when he was 16, his mentors allowed him limited use of the royal seal.

By the time he reached manhood Henry was well built, of stately demeanour and fair of face. His only blemish seems to have been a drooping eyelid. He was a man of many – often conflicting – parts. The chronicler Matthew Paris, who knew him well, referred often to his ‘simplicity’, by which he meant a childlike enthusiasm and exuberance. Henry was impulsive and readily gave his trust and affection. Yet he could also fall prey to suspicion and insecurity. He was an aesthete who spared no expense to surround himself with beautiful things. He was inquisitive and loved to marvel at unusual objects – such as the exotic animals he collected in his menagerie – and he adored elaborate ritual, especially that connected with religious devotion. He tried to impress his subjects with lavish and expensive displays of kingliness, but his fine judgement in matters artistic did not extend to people. He made favourites of unworthy men and ignored the advice of those who deserved his trust. He had the fiery, quick temper of his Angevin forebears but lacked their military ardour. He had been brought up to expect deference rather than to earn it and, largely for this reason, he was unable to establish close and constructive working relations
with the leading men of the realm. Henry’s reign was littered with the ruins of grand projects, which he began but failed to bring to fulfilment. There is no doubt that he had the good of his subjects at heart, but he ended up taxing them beyond endurance, losing the respect of his barons and provoking another period of civil war. Ironically, it was Henry’s shortcomings and his long reign that permitted the further limitation of royal power and the development of constitutional change.

King Philip of France died in 1223 and was succeeded by his son as Louis VIII. Henry immediately demanded that Louis, as promised, should restore his French lands to him, but Louis refused, and an expedition sent from England failed to regain possession of Normandy and other territories. Louis died in 1226, leaving the crown to his 12-year-old son, Louis IX, and Henry tried to achieve by intrigue what he had not achieved by force. He took advantage of France’s internal discord and sought an alliance with nobles rebelling against the crown, but this too came to nothing. In the meantime, in January 1227, Henry declared himself to be of age and assumed full kingly authority.

Henry III was an extremely devout king. He customarily heard mass several times a day, and the schedule of government business was often upset by his stopping to attend worship. In this way royal journeys sometimes took hours or even days longer than was necessary. Henry’s piety was shown in the large number of church buildings that he directly sponsored or encouraged to be constructed, and his reign coincided with the establishment in England of the Gothic style of church architecture.

The Gothic style is conventionally divided into three phases: Early English (
c
.1180–1275), Decorated (
c
.1275–1380) and Perpendicular. The earlier Gothic churches and cathedrals were similar in design to those being built in northern continental Europe, but gradually there evolved a uniquely English style of architecture.

The fundamental difference between Early English Gothic and the Norman (or Romanesque) style that preceded it was the pointed arch (lancet). Hitherto the roofs and upper structures of churches had been borne on round arches, which conveyed the weight to massive pillars and thick walls. Lancets were discovered to be both more elegant and stronger. The pillars could be replaced by slender columns, which became decorative features in themselves – shafts of polished stone arranged in clusters around a central column of relatively small circumference. The overall impression was one of greater height, with soaring arches pointing heavenwards. The outer walls could also be used for decoration as well as support.