Such being her position, and being endowed with all the sensitive delicacy of a flower reared in a forest, De Moreville’s daughter, finding herself abandoned by her sire, shut up in that great house in Ludgate, worried daily by Dame Waledger, pestered by Sir Anthony, and with no one of her own age, and rank, and sex to sympathise with her woes, brooded pensively as she recalled the past, with all its romance, and sighed heavily as she thought of the future, with all its hazards.
It was, in truth, a woeful termination to the sweet and fanciful musings of which Oliver’s captivity at Chas-Chateil had been the origin. Why, O why, did the heir of the Icinglas dream that frightful dream in the Sussex forest?
CHAPTER LV
SUNSHINE AND CLOUDS
ALL now went well with King Henry and with England under the auspices of the old Earl of Pembroke, and the Christmas of 1217 was celebrated with gladness and festive mirth alike in court and city, in castle and in cottage, and people breathed more freely than they had done for years, and thanked God and the saints that the country was free from the terrible mercenaries whom Prince Louis had brought to conquer them. The protector administered affairs so wisely and vigorously that general satisfaction was felt throughout the country, so lately torn by civil war and ravaged by foreign foes. No man was treated with harshness on account of the part he had taken in the struggle, and when the barons who had adhered to Prince Louis appeared at court, they were so graciously received that they did what they could by their influence and example to aid Pembroke in the patriotic course of policy which he was pursuing. Even the King of Scots and the Prince of Wales perceived the necessity of making peace with the government. Accordingly, Alexander came southward and did homage to Henry at Northampton. Llewellyn, after compromising with his savage pride by indulging in a little delay, condescended to go through the same ceremony at Worcester.
Meanwhile the protector laboured earnestly to execute the treaty to which the king had sworn, and on all points scrupulously maintained faith with those who had been his adversaries. Having restored castles and manors to the barons who had returned to their allegiance, he took measures for securing the observance of the Great Charter, as revised, and modified, and confirmed. Not content with issuing orders to all the sheriffs to do their duty as regarded the Charter, he no sooner found that these orders had not the effects he intended than he intrusted the business to justices-itinerant, and sent them into the various counties of England, with instructions and power to hear complaints and redress grievances. His determination to redeem all his pledges was evident, and nobody capable of forming an opinion could entertain any doubt of his sincerity.
In fact, the conciliatory spirit, good faith, and moderation displayed by Pembroke wrought marvels; and the course of policy he pursued did so much to popularise the monarchy which he had rescued from destruction that ere long young Henry reigned over a loyal people, “the evil will borne to King John seeming to die with him, and to be buried with him in the same grave,” and there was every prospect of England enjoying a long season of peace and prosperity. But unfortunately a change was at hand, and a change for the worse. Almost as Henry’s throne appeared to be firmly established, there occurred an event which opened up a new scene, and which was destined to lead to fresh troubles.
Pembroke, as has been mentioned, was an old man at the time when he, in the autumn of 1216, applied himself to the terrible task of saving his country from foreign dominion, and, while occupied with the good work of healing his country’s wounds, his days were “dwindling to the shortest span.” Perhaps the protector’s great exertions hastened his end. At all events, in May, 1219, he breathed his last at his manor of Caversham, and his body, having been carried to the abbey of Reading, where mass was solemnly celebrated, and afterwards conveyed to Westminster Abbey, where mass was again solemnly celebrated, was finally borne with all honour along the Strand, and laid in the Temple Church on Ascension Day.
Naturally the great protector’s death was much bewailed by the nation, and patriotic Englishmen mourned as if each of them had lost a near and dear friend. Nor was it possible for reflecting men to speculate on the future without feeling uneasy as to what might be the consequences of the sudden removal of a ruler of patriotic spirit, and firm heart, and strong hand. For a time, however, the inspiration of his example was strong enough to influence his successors in the government, Peter, Bishop of Winchester, enacting the part of regent, and Hubert de Burgh, who had won so high a reputation by his defence of Dover and his naval victory over Eustace the Monk, holding the high office of justiciary. Moreover, peace was rendered more sure on the side of Scotland by the marriage of Alexander, King of Scots, with Joan, Henry’s sister, and by the marriage of Hubert de Burgh and Margaret, one of the sisters of the Scottish monarch, and at first matters went on satisfactorily. As time passed over, however, a reaction in public opinion took place, and the voice of discontent was again heard; and, to make matters worse, the Bishop of Winchester and Hubert de Burgh, at a crisis when union was so necessary, began to quarrel, and to struggle desperately for the mastery.
Most unfortunate for the king and country was this contention under the circumstances, and the evil effects soon became visible. Men who were at daggers drawn were not likely to be very happy in their efforts at governing a nation of all others most difficult to govern, and the Londoners began to show their old spirit of insubordination, and to shout loudly against everything bearing the semblance of a grievance. As usually happens in such circumstances, persons of restless spirit and violent ambition were not wanting to fan the flame; and in the city of London there was one person, at least, who was too vigilant not to recognise the opportunity for mischief, and too earnest in his discontent not to seize the occasion and turn it to account. This man was Constantine Fitzarnulph.
And so the sunshine departed from around Henry’s throne, and clouds began to gather over the boy-king’s head.