Cassell's Illustrated History of England/Volume 1/Chapter 41
CHAPTER XLI.
Matilda was making ready for her coronation in perfect security, when a rising of the people, as sudden as it was unanimous, resulted in driving her from London in the utmost haste, and without even so much as a change of raiment. An alarm sounded from all the steeples of the City, and immediately every street was filled with an excited multitude of the people. From the doors of every house men came forth, armed with such weapons as they could procure. The empress and her Angevins[1]—startled by the suddenness of the attack, and not daring to risk a conflict where the numbers were so greatly against them, and which would have to be carried on in narrow streets, where every advantage would be on the side of their enemies—made no attempt at resistance, but hastily seized horses, and galloped off at full speed. Matilda had scarcely quitted the town the town, when the enraged populace forced their way into her apartments, and seized or destroyed whatever they found there.
As the ex-empress sped on her way, the barons and knights who accompanied her one by one detached themselves from the escort, and, consulting only their own safety, fled across the country, or along cross-roads, towards their strongholds. She arrived at Oxford with the Earl of Gloucester and a few followers, whom motives of policy, or a regard for their knightly honour, still held attached to her fortunes. The citizens of London attempted no pursuit of the fugitives. Their revolt appears to have been a sudden outbreak of popular indignation rather than the result of any preconcerted arrangement, and was not followed by any further measures of a similar kind. The Norman adherents of King Stephen soon afterwards re-entered London, and, having obtained the consent of the citizens, by the promise of an alliance with them, garrisoned the city with troops. The only privileges obtained by the citizens in consequence of the insurrection were the permission of enlistment to the number of one thousand men, and of fighting in the cause of the king, wearing a helmet and hauberk. Queen Maud, the wife of Stephen, proceeded to London, and there held court. She was a woman of gentle and amiable character; but her lot was cast in evil times, and she displayed the energy and courage of a man in her efforts to obtain her husband's liberation.
The Bishop of Winchester, whom Matilda, in her short day of power, had so grievously offended, no sooner perceived the tide of fortune turning against the empress, than he deserted her cause, and once more declared himself in favour of his brother. He hoisted the banner of Stephen on the walls of Winchester Castle, and on his palace, which had been fortified with all the engineering skill of the age. Other castles within his diocese, including those of Waltham and Farnham, were strongly garrisoned. An interview took place at Guildford between the bishop and his sister-in-law, Queen Maud, whose entreaties probably removed any hesitation he might feel as to his course of action.
Matilda, having become aware of these transactions, sent the bishop a haughty message to appear immediately in her presence. The prelate sent back the messenger with the answer that he was "making himself ready for her"—an expression which had a double meaning. Matilda marched with her followers to Winchester; but the bishop, leaving his palace defended by a strong garrison, quitted the town as she entered it, and proceeded to place himself at the head of his vassals, and of the knights who had agreed to fight under his standard. The castle of Winchester was given up to Matilda, and she summoned around her those barons who still adhered to her cause. Among these were Robert of Gloucester, the Earl of Chester, the Earl of Hereford, and David, King of Scotland, uncle to the empress.
The troops under these leaders laid siege to the episcopal palace, which stood in the heart of the city. The bishop's garrison, having set fire to the adjoining houses, which might have served as places of defence to the assailants, retired into their fortress and waited for succour. Meanwhile, the Bishop of Winchester had received an accession of strength from the troops of Queen Maud, among whom were the citizens of London, to the number, as already mentioned, of one thousand. Marching rapidly to Winchester, the bishop surprised the troops of the empress, who were compelled to entrench themselves in the churches, while Matilda herself, with her chief nobles, took refuge in the castle. Thus the besiegers were in turn besieged; the sanctuary was not respected by the warlike Bishop of Winchester, and the churches were burnt down in order to force the occupants from their place of refuge. The unhappy inhabitants suffered extreme misery while this murderous warfare was going on in their streets; they were plundered by both of the opposing factions, their goods seized without redress, and their homes burnt down or ransacked.
The castle, which was completely surrounded by the troops of the bishop, sustained a siege of six weeks, by which time the provisions of the garrison were exhausted. A daring expedient was determined upon by the empress as the alternative of an unconditional surrender. The 14th of September A.D. 1141 was the feast of the Holy Rood or Cross, on which, as on other festivals of the church, it was the custom for antagonists in the field to desist from hostilities. At daybreak on that day, when the besieging troops were asleep or engaged in preparing for their devotions, Matilda stole out from the castle, accompanied by her brother, the Earl of Gloucester, and a small but chosen escort. Mounted on fleet horses they made their way through the troops of the bishop, and fled at full speed along the road to Devizes. A hot pursuit was immediately set on foot, and the fugitives were overtaken in the neighbourhood of Stourbridge. Finding escape impossible, the Earl of Gloucester and the knights who were with him turned upon their pursuers and kept them at bay, while the empress urged on her horse and arrived in safety at Devizes. After a gallant resistance the earl with several of his companions were taken prisoners.
Matilda pursued her way without delay from Devizes to Gloucester. It is related that, exhausted by her rapid flight, or desirous of avoiding danger on the road, she feigned death, and caused herself to be conveyed in a hearse or litter. This story, however, is improbable in itself, and rests on indifferent foundation. The knights who escaped from the engagement at Stourbridge abandoned their arms and horses, and passed through the towns on foot, so that they might not be recognised. The worst enemies they had to fear were not the adherents of Stephen who pursued them, but the Saxon peasantry, whose hatred against the Normans, of whatever faction, had been kept alive by a long series of cruelties and acts of oppression. The fugitives, notwithstanding their disguise, were betrayed by their foreign accent, and they were attacked wherever they went by the English, who bound them with cords and flogged them along the roads with knotted whips. The King of Scotland escaped in safety to his kingdom, and the Earl of Hereford succeeded in reaching Gloucester Castle, where, however, he arrived in miserable plight, without arms, and almost without clothes. The Earl of Gloucester was brought before the queen of Stephen, who ordered him to be confined in Rochester Castle. We are told by the best authorities that Maud did not retaliate upon the earl for the harsh treatment he had inflicted upon her husband, but that she permitted him every indulgence consistent with his safe custody.
About a month after the capture of the Earl of Gloucester, a treaty was concluded between the belligerents, by the terms of which the king was exchanged for the earl, and thus the leaders of both armies regained their liberty. Stephen resumed his title and the exercise of the royal authority over the eastern and midland counties, which were the parts of the country in the possession of his adherents. Normandy no longer acknowledged the rule of the English king. During his imprisonment the duchy had submitted to Geoffrey of Anjou, who soon afterwards resigned it in favour of his eldest son Henry.
The resumption of authority by Stephen rendered it necessary for the clergy to renounce, in form at least, their vows of allegiance to Matilda. Finding themselves in a position of embarrassment and difficulty, an ecclesiastical council was convened at Westminster, for the purpose of debating on the subject. The Bishop of Winchester, as the legate of the Pope, exhibited a letter from Innocent, desiring him to use every means in his power to restore his brother to liberty. The bishop then proceeded to justify the measures he had adopted in support of Matilda. He said that he had espoused her cause, not because he had desired to do so, but because circumstances impelled him to that course of action. Matilda had not fulfilled her promises, but had used him with contumely, and even made attempts against his life. He therefore considered that he was absolved from the oaths he had taken to her, and at liberty to restore his allegiance to the king. Stephen, who was present at the assembly, then spoke to the same effect. He alluded to the disgrace the nobles endured in being governed by a woman, and declared that he had never withheld justice from those of his subjects who asked for it. The majority of the council acknowledged the authority of the Pope's letter, and the legate proceeded to excommunicate all the adherents of that cause to which he had himself so lately been attached. Stephen was thus restored to power; but a lingering illness prevented him for some time from pursuing aggressive measures towards his enemies.
During this time the country wore an aspect of woe and desolation. All kinds of depredations were committed by the soldiers of Brabant, the Flemings, and other foreigners, with whom the land was overrun; while the Anglo-Norman nobles raised funds for the expenses of the civil war by selling their English estates, together with the miserable inhabitants. So great was the terror excited among the people by this state of things, that we are told that a considerable body of them would take to flight at the sight of three or four horsemen. Stories dark and dread were currently reported of cruelties practised by the Normans upon those who fell into their power. Those prisoners who were suspected to possess property of any kind were subjected to unheard-of tortures to compel them to give up their hoards. Some were suspended by the feet, while fumes of smoke were made to ascend about their heads; others were tied at some distance from the ground by the thumbs, while their feet were scorched by fire; or were thrown into pits filled with reptiles of different kinds; sometimes they suffered the dislocation of their limbs in what was called the chamhre a crucir:[2] this was a chest lined with sharp-pointed stones, in which the victim was fastened up.[3] Many of the castles contained a room or dungeon specially set apart for these purposes, and filled with instruments of torture, and with iron chains so heavy that it required two or three men to lift them. "You might have journeyed," says the authority already quoted, "a whole day without seeing a living person in the towns, or in the country one field in a state of tillage. The poor perished with hunger, and many who once possessed property now begged food from door to door. Every man who had the power quitted England. Never were greater sorrows poured upon this land."
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Revolt of the Citizens of London against Matilda. (See page 169.)
Alarmed at the increasing power of Stephen, Matilda sent the Earl of Gloucester to her husband, Geoffrey of Anjou, entreating him to bring his forces to her aid. The earl replied that his presence was necessary in his own dominions, but expressed his willingness to send his son, Prince Henry, in his stead. Some months' delay ensued, and then Henry, with the earl his uncle, quitted Normandy with an inconsiderable force, and effected a landing in England.
Meanwhile, Stephen, having recovered from his illness, collected an army and laid siege to the city of Oxford, where Matilda had assembled her followers (A.D. 1142). The town fell into his bands almost immediately, and was set on fire by the royal troops. The empress had retreated into the castle, which was a place of great strength; but, as had been the case at Winchester, it proved to be insufficiently victualled. The fortress was completely surrounded and cut off from all supplies from without, and after a siege of three months the empress found herself compelled to make her escape in the same manner as before.
One night in December, when the ground was covered with snow, Matilda quitted the castle at midnight, attended by four knights, who, as well as herself, were clothed in white. More fortunate than on the previous occasion, the party passed through the lines of their enemies entirely unobserved, and crossed the Thames, which was frozen over. The adventurous daughter of Beauclerc then pursued her way, sometimes on foot, sometimes on horseback, to Wallingford, where she joined the army of her son and the Earl of Gloucester.
After having taken Oxford Castle, Stephen encountered the forces of the Earl of Gloucester at Wilton, and was defeated, the king himself having a narrow escape of a second imprisonment. A desultory warfare ensued, which lasted during three years, without any important advantage to either side. Prince Henry remained during this time at Bristol Castle, in the company of his uncle, the Earl of Gloucester, and in 1147 returned to Normandy.
Statue of Stephen in the Choir of York Cathedral
Soon after his departure, Robert of Gloucester died of an illness resulting from alternate excesses and privations. Deprived of the aid of her half-brother, who had governed her affairs with undoubted ability, Matilda found her position become every day less secure. One by one her most faithful partisans fell away, stricken down by disease, or weary of the contest; and among those who died was the Earl of Hereford, one of the ablest and most powerful defenders of her cause. At length the ex-empress determined to pass over into Normandy, there to concert with her husband and her son fresh measures for renewing the struggle. Emboldened by her absence, Stephen made vigorous attempts to re-establish his power upon a firm basis; and for this purpose ho endeavoured by stratagem, as well as by force, to obtain possession of various strongholds which had been seized and fortified by the barons. The efforts thus made to reduce these haughty chiefs to submission met with little success, and the king's own adherents were ill-disposed to support a policy which they foresaw might one day be extended to themselves.
On the death of Innocent II. (September 24, 1143), the office of Legate of the Holy See was transferred from the Bishop of Winchester to Theobald, Archbishop of Canterbury. The archbishop, having proceeded to the Council of Rheims in opposition to the royal command, was banished from the court. This impolitic act of Stephen was attended by consequences which show the extraordinary power possessed by the clergy over the rude and licentious men of that age. Hugh Bigod, the Earl of Norfolk, one of the adherents of Matilda, received the exiled prelate under his protection; and Theobald issued a sentence of excommunication against all the followers of the king, and the whole of the country which acknowledged his rule was declared without the pale of the Church. The order was obeyed by the clergy to the letter: the churches were closed, the services of religion suspended, and men died unhouselled in consequence of the refusal of the priests to perform their functions.
The ruthless Normans, familiar from their childhood with bloodshed, trembled before what they regarded as the wrath of Heaven; and the enslaved English regarded as their worst misery the decree which deprived them of ghostly consolation. While the land was suffering from disorders—which in this history have been briefly glanced at, but which are fully described in the pages of the chroniclers—the stately edifices of religion scattered throughout the country attracted to themselves, as to a centre, not only all the superstition, but the piety, the learning, and the virtue of the age. Built on the bank of some gentle stream, defended from storms by surrounding hills or dense woods, rose the solemn walls of the abbey church, gladdening the eyes of the traveller with the certainty of rest and protection: the one peaceful spot which, amidst the surrounding storm and violence, offered shelter to the weary, and pointed the hope of the sorrowing to heaven.
Those charitable institutions, which in later and happier times had a separate existence, were, in the twelfth century, included within the walls of the religious houses. Each monastery of note contained its hospital; and the study of medicine was cultivated by the monks as well as by the women of that age. When the terrible disease of leprosy was carried into this country from Palestine—an event which appears to date from the time of the First Crusade—various hospitals, which partook of the hallowed character of monastic establishments, were built for the reception of the sufferers. The leper, cut off by law from all intercourse with general society—as is the case still in countries where this scourge prevails—was received into these houses, where, in the company of his brethren in calamity, and subjected to no restraints but those of the conventional rule, he might lead his monotonous life engaged in the services of religion, and in the enjoyment at least of comfort and tranquillity.
The hospitals attached to the monasteries also received within their walls those who were wounded in the frequent battles or forays of that turbulent period; and it would appear that those who needed the surgical assistance of the monks in these and similar cases were tended with a degree of care and kindly feeling in agreeable contrast to the common temper of the age, and with all the skill of the monks were possessed. These hospitals were frequently of noble, or even of royal foundation, and were often possessed of great wealth. One of the first of these religious lazar-houses of which we have any record, was the hospital of St. Giles, which received during this and the following centuries numerous rich and important endowments. Henry II. granted to it a charter, and gave a sum of £3 yearly to buy its inmates a distinctive habit. It was at the gate of this establishment that, towards the close of the fourteenth century, when the gallows was removed from the Elms to "the north land of the wall belonging to the hospital," the singular custom was observed of presenting to criminals, on their way to execution, a large bowl of ale, called the St. Giles's bowl."
While it is probable that the interdict of the Archbishop of Canterbury did not interfere materially with the offices of charity and mercy which, in addition to those of religion, were performed by the monks, it is, nevertheless, easy to understand why such a proclamation might be attended with serious inconvenience even to that part of the laity who cared nothing for the services of religion. The discontent throughout the country became so loud, that Stephen was compelled to make overtures to the arch-bishop for a reconciliation. After some delay, the primate accepted the terms, and the ban of the church was removed from the royal dominions. The king, who, in the interval, had learnt the expediency of securing the favour and adhesion of the clergy, made large donations to the churches and monasteries, and promised to extend these gifts, and add to them certain important privileges as soon as the kingdom should be placed in a condition of peace and security.
Two years after the reconciliation with the archbishop, Stephen convened at London a general assembly of the higher ecclesiastics, and demanded that his eldest son, Eustace, should, with their authority, be acknowledged as successor to the throne. The bishops, headed by the Archbishop of Canterbury, refused positively to comply with this demand. As the legate of Rome, the archbishop had communicated with the Pope on the subject, and had received for answer that Stephen was a usurper, and had not the right possessed by legitimate sovereigns of transmitting the crown to a successor. Exasperated by a refusal which followed his efforts at conciliation, Stephen ordered the bishops to be placed under arrest, and their benefices to be seized. This, however, was only a temporary outburst of anger, and appears to have been to some extent justified by the open defiance given by the prelates to the sovereign to whom they had sworn allegiance.
The king soon found himself menaced by further dangers from Normandy. In the year 1119, Prince Henry, the son of Matilda, had landed in Scotland, attended by a retinue of knights and nobles, for the purpose of receiving the order of knighthood from his relative, the King of Scotland. David, at that time, held his court at Carlisle; and Henry, who had just attained his sixteenth year, received his spurs at that place in the presence of a vast assemblage of barons from various parts of England, as well as from Scotland and Normandy. The gallant bearing and character of the young prince is said to have produced the most favourable effect upon those who witnessed the ceremony, and was afterwards contrasted with that of the son of Stephen, to the disadvantage of the latter. Henry, having returned to Normandy in the year 1150, was placed in possession of the government of that duchy, and on the death of his father, Geoffrey Plantagenet, which took place immediately afterwards, the prince received the earldom of Anjou. The latter province was conferred upon him with the stipulation that he should resign it in favour of his younger brother on the day when he should become king. He swore solemnly to this effect over the dead body of his father; but the oath, as was the case with many other kingly oaths of those days, was violated without compunction when the time came for its fulfilment.
In the year 1152, Henry married Eleanor, Alienor, or Aanor, the divorced wife of Louis VII. of France, and daughter of William, Earl of Poitou and Duke of Aquitaine. According to the laws of those provinces, Eleanor succeeded her father in the exercise of sovereignty, and her husband, though a foreigner, shared the same rights. Eleanor was married, in 1137, to Louis, King of France, who exercised control over her domains so long as he remained united to her, and he garrisoned the towns of Aquitaine with soldiers and officers of his own. The queen had given birth to two daughters, and the union had lasted several years without interruption, when Louis determined to make a pilgrimage to Palestine, and his wife, whose uncle Raymond was Duke of Antioch, accompanied him on the journey. In the account already given of the First Crusade, allusion has been made to the low state of morality which prevailed in the camps, and it would appear that even the Queen of France was not exempt from the evil influences by which she was surrounded. Eleanor, who was possessed of remarkable beauty, displayed great freedom of manners, and she was accused, whether justly or otherwise, of an improper connection with a young Saracen knight named Saladin. On the return of the court from the Holy Land, in the year 1152, Louis called a council of the clergy at Baugency-sur-Loire, and demanded a divorce from his wife. The cause of the king was pleaded by the Bishop of Langres, who offered evidence of the offences committed by the queen. The Archbishop of Bordeaux, however, while assenting to the king's request, proposed that the separation should take place in a manner less fatal to the reputation of Eleanor—namely, on the ground of consanguinity between the parties. It was discovered by the prelates—rather late—that the queen was the cousin of her husband within the prohibited degrees. This, however, was the only ground on which the laws of the Church permitted a divorce, which, under any circumstances, was only granted to princes.
Eleanor, who regarded her husband as "more a monk than a king," assented readily to a separation; and on the marriage being annulled, she set out for her own domains, and remained for a while in the town of Blois. The repudiated wife seems to have had no want of suitors, and rather found a difficulty in protecting herself from their importunities. Theobald, Earl of Blois, the brother of King Stephen, offered her his hand, and having met with a refusal, he detained the duchess a prisoner in his castle, with the determination of marrying her by force. Suspecting his design, Eleanor escaped from the castle by night, and descended the Loire in a boat, reached the city of Tours, which at that time belonged to the duchy of Anjou.
Geoffrey of Anjou, the second son of Matilda, hearing of the arrival of the duchess, and tempted, probably, by her vast possessions, determined also to make her his wife, and placed himself in ambush at the Port de Piles, on the Loire, to intercept her as she passed, and carry her off. Eleanor, however, "warned by her good angel," turned aside, and took the road to Poictiers". Here Henry, with more courtesy than his brother or the Earl of Blois, presented himself to her, and the offer of his hand being accepted, married her within a few weeks after her divorce (May 18). The conduct of the young prince in this transaction does not appear in a very delicate or chivalrous light; and it is evident that motives of policy alone could have induced him to marry a woman who, however beautiful, was considerably older than himself, and whose reputation was certainly not without stain.
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Flight of Matilda from Oxford. (See page l72.)
By this alliance Henry received the titles of Duke of Aquitaine and Earl of Poitou, in addition to those which he had previously possessed. His domains now considerably exceeded in extent those of the French king; and Louis, alarmed at the increase of the Norman power, forbade; Henry—who, as Duke of Normandy, was his vassal—to contract the marriage with Eleanor. Henry, however, paid no regard to the prohibition, and the French king was compelled to accept the new vows of homage which the prince now offered him for the territories of Aquitaine and Poitou. These oaths—which were, in fact, little else than matters of form—had been for many years the only bond which remained between the ancient Frankish kings and the lords of those provinces which extended between the Loire and the two seas. The country, called Gaul by the Romans, had, in the seventh century, already become known among neighbouring nations under the general name of France; but in the country itself this appellation was not yet recognised.
Meeting of Stephen and Prince Henry at Wallingford.
The great and rapid increase of power thus attained by Henry Plantagenet, necessarily excited the hopes of his mother, and of her adherents in England, who were gratified by the prospect of renewing the contest with Stephen in favour of a young prince whose gallantry and abilities offered the best prospect of success. The English king foresaw the approaching danger, and had no difficulty in perceiving that Henry would command many more supporters in England than would have ranged themselves under the standard of the haughty Matilda. Stephen, therefore, concluded an alliance with Louis of France, as well as with the Earl of Blois, and with Geoffrey of Anjou, Henry's younger brother. The two latter willingly took up arms against one who occupied to both of them the position of a successful rival, and they joined the army which the French king marched into Normandy. Henry, however, made a vigorous defence, and having repulsed the attacks of the French with success, he obtained a truce. Meanwhile the Earl of Chester had arrived in the duchy from England, bearing with him a message from a number of chiefs of the Plantagenet party, who invited Henry to take possession of the throne in his own right. The earl declared this to be the unanimous will of the people; and the prince responded to the call, and, without waiting to organise a large force, he immediately set sail for England.
The army with which he landed numbered about 140 knights, and 3,000 infantry; it was composed, however, of picked men, and was well disciplined. Many of the barons of the kingdom immediately joined his standard, bringing with them considerable reinforcements; and Henry marched his forces to Wallingford for the purpose of giving battle to the king. Meanwhile, Stephen had made great exertions to oppose his adversary, and endeavoured, by bribes and other means, to detach the barons from his cause. Some of the latter, who had declared for Henry, no sooner heard with what a small force he had ventured into England, than they returned to the side of the king. The war between the opposing factions was carried on in the same manner as before—castles were besieged and taken, and towns carried by assault, plundered, and burnt. The English, driven from their homes, or flying from them in terror, built huts under the walls of the churches, in the hope that the sacredness of the place would protect them. No such considerations, however, restrained the belligerents, who expelled the people from their sanctuary, and turned the churches into fortresses. On the steeples, whence the sweet sounds of bells were wont to give the call to prayer, were now placed the frowning engines of war.[4]
The army of Stephen, which had marched from London, occupied the left bank of the Thames at Wallingford, opposite to the troops of Henry. The opposing forces remained in this position during two whole days without coming to an engagement, and during the pause which thus took place, negotiations were entered into between the two princes. It would appear that even the Norman nobles had become tired of the horrors of a civil war which had lasted fifteen years, and the Earl of Arundel did not hesitate to say that it was unreasonable that the calamities of the nation should be continued further through the ambition of two princes. Other lords, on both sides, expressed the same sentiments, and entreated the king and the prince to meet together for the purpose of arranging terms of peace.
An interview took place between the two chiefs, who conversed with each other across a narrow part of the river Thames, and ultimately agreed to desist from hostilities, pending the conclusion of a treaty which was to be arranged at a general council of the kingdom. Prince Eustace, the only son of Stephen, was seized with indignation at the prospect of an arrangement which would, probably, exclude him from the throne, and, instantly quitting his father's presence, he proceeded into Cambridgeshire, recklessly determining to maintain his right by arms. Having gathered together a band of lawless followers, he seized possession of the abbey of St. Edmund, ejected the monks, and placed there his headquarters. He occupied himself in plundering the neighbourhood, and the property so obtained was expended in rioting and other excesses. This state of things, however, was of short duration. One day, when the prince was seated at a banquet, he was seized with a sudden and violent illness, or frenzy, of which he died. The memory of St. Edmund, king and martyr, was held in the highest veneration by the English people, and the death of the prince was attributed by them to the vengeance of Heaven provoked by the outrage he had committed upon the sanctuary of the saint.
Stephen now had less difficulty in agreeing to terms which would be acceptable to Henry. The king had, indeed, one son remaining, but he was too young to be aware of how much his interests were concerned in the arrangements about to be made. The council of the kingdom was held at Winchester, November 7th, 1153, and it was finally determined that Stephen should hold possession of the throne during his life, and that after his death the succession should devolve upon Henry and his heirs. This treaty, which was sworn to by the clergy, nobles, and knights of both parties, is described by different writers in different points of view.
Some historians say that Stephen adopted Henry as his son, and gave the kingdom to him after his own death; while others assert that the king acknowledged the hereditary right of Henry, who thereupon gave him permission to reign during his life. It is worthy of remark, that we find the various boroughs regarded in connection with this treaty as of some importance, and that they were called upon to take the oaths of allegiance in the same manner as the barons. The officers of the most important of the royal castles gave hostages to Henry for the surrender of those strongholds to him when the king's death should take place.
The treaty having been concluded, Henry and Stephen made a progress together through the country, visiting the cities of London, Winchester, and Oxford. Everywhere they were received with unfeigned joy by the people, who, whatever might have been their sentiments with regard to either of the two princes, welcomed the chance which placed them side by side with sheathed swords.
Henry proceeded to the Continent at the time of Lent, 1151, and in the month of October in the same year Stephen died at Dover, in the fiftieth year of his age, and the nineteenth of his reign. He was buried at the monastery of Faversham, in Kent, and his tomb was afterwards destroyed when the monasteries were suppressed by the command of Henry VIII.