In the middle of the night of July 17 a courier from the north came knocking wildly for admittance at the palace-gate. The porters remonstrated with him in vain; he bore, he said, good news which the king must hear that very night. He hurried to the door of the king’s chamber, and, despite the expostulations of the chamberlains, made his way to the bedside and woke the king from his sleep. “Who art thou?” demanded Henry. “A servant of your faithful Ralf de Glanville, and the bearer of good tidings from him to you.” “Is he well?” “He is well; and lo! he holds your enemy the king of Scots in chains at Richmond castle.” Not till he had seen Ralf’s own letters could Henry believe the tidings; then he burst into thanksgivings for the crowning triumph which had come to him, as he now learned, almost at the moment when his voluntary humiliation at Canterbury was completed.[798] The garrison of Carlisle had pledged themselves to surrender to the Scot king at Michaelmas if not previously relieved. In the interval William laid siege to Odelin de Umfraville’s castle of Prudhoe on the Tyne.[799] Here he was rejoined by Roger de Mowbray, who came to intreat the Scot king’s aid in the recovery of his lost castles.[800] Meanwhile, however, the king’s return had apparently brought with it the return of the sheriff of Yorkshire, Robert de Stuteville. Under his leadership and that of his son William the whole military forces of the shire, with those of William de Vesci, Ralf de Glanville, Bernard de Balliol and Odelin de Umfraville, and Archbishop Roger’s men under his constable Ralf de Tilly, gathered and marched northward to oppose the Scots.[801] They reached Newcastle on July 12[802]—the day of Henry’s penitential entry into Canterbury—but only to find that on the rumour of their approach William the Lion had retired from Prudhoe, and was gone to besiege Alnwick with his own picked followers, while the bulk of his host, under the earls of Fife and Angus and the English traitor Richard de Morville, dispersed over all Northumberland to burn, plunder and slay in the old barbarous Scottish fashion which seems hardly to have softened since the days of Malcolm Canmore.[803] The English leaders now held a council of war. Their forces consisted only of a few hundred knights, all wearied and spent with their long and hurried march, in which the foot had been unable to keep up with them at all. The more cautious argued that enough had been done in driving back the Scots thus far, and that it would be madness for a band of four hundred men to advance against a host of eighty thousand. Bolder spirits, however, urged that the justice of their cause must suffice to prevail against any odds; and it was decided to continue the march to Alnwick. They set out next morning before sunrise; the further they rode, the thicker grew the mist; some proposed to turn back. “Turn back who will,” cried Bernard de Balliol, “if no man will follow me, I will go on alone, rather than bear the stain of cowardice for ever!” Every one of them followed him; and when at last the mist cleared away, the first sight that met their eyes was the friendly castle of Alnwick. Close beside it lay the king of Scots, carelessly playing with a little band of some sixty knights. Never dreaming that the English host would dare to pursue him thus far, he had sent out all the rest of his troops on a plundering expedition, and at the first appearance of the enemy he took them for his own followers returning with their spoils. When they unfurled their banners he saw at once that his fate was sealed. The Scottish Lion, however, proved worthy of his name, and his followers proved worthy of their leader. Seizing his arms and shouting, “Now it shall be seen who are true knights!” he rushed upon the English; his horse was killed, he himself was surrounded and made prisoner, and so were all his men.[804] Roger de Mowbray and Adam de Port, an English baron who had been outlawed two years before for an attempt on King Henry’s life, alone fled away into Scotland;[805] not one Scot tried to escape, and some even who were not on the spot, when they heard the noise of the fray, rode hastily up and almost forced themselves into the hands of their captors, deeming it a knightly duty to share their sovereign’s fate.[806]

The capture of William the Lion almost put an end to the rebellion. A body of Flemings summoned by Bishop Hugh of Durham landed the same day at Hartlepool; but at the tidings of the Scottish disaster, Hugh thought it safest to pay them their forty days’ wages and send them home again at once.[807] On the same day, too, the young king, weary of waiting for a wind at Gravelines, left the count of Flanders there alone and proceeded to Wissant with a body of troops whom he succeeded in despatching from thence into England, under the command of Ralf of La Haye, to the assistance of Hugh Bigod.[808] In London, meanwhile, the news brought by Ralf de Glanville’s courier raised to the highest pitch the spirits both of Henry and of his troops. On that very day he set out for Huntingdon,[809] whose titular earl had already fled back to Scotland;[810] at Huntingdon Geoffrey of Lincoln came to meet him with a force of seven hundred knights;[811] and three days later the garrison surrendered at discretion.[812] The king then marched to S. Edmund’s; here he divided his host, sending half against Hugh Bigod’s castle of Bungay, while he himself led the other half to Framlingham, where Hugh was entrenched with five hundred knights and his Flemish men-at-arms. The number of these, however, had dwindled greatly; when the royal host encamped on July 24 at Sileham, close to Framlingham, Hugh felt himself unable to cope with it; and next morning he surrendered.[813] By the end of the month the whole struggle was over. One by one the king’s foes came to his feet as he held his court at Northampton. The king of Scots was brought, with his feet tied together under his horse’s body, from his prison[814] at Richmond.[815] On the last day of July Bishop Hugh of Durham came to give up his castles of Durham, Norham and Northallerton. On the same day the earl of Leicester’s three fortresses were surrendered by his constables;[816] and Thirsk was given up by Roger of Mowbray.[817] Earl Robert de Ferrers yielded up Tutbury and Duffield;[818] the earl of Gloucester and his son-in-law Richard de Clare, who were suspected of intriguing with the rebels, came to offer their services and their obedience to the king;[819] and a like offer came from far-off Galloway, whose native princes, Uhtred and Gilbert, long unwilling vassals of the king of Scots, had seized their opportunity to call home their men, drive out William’s bailiffs, destroy his castles and slaughter his garrisons, and now besought his victorious English cousin to become their protector and overlord.[820] In three weeks from Henry’s landing in England all the royal fortresses were again in his hands, and the country was once more at peace.[821]

When England was secured, it was comparatively a light matter to secure the rest. Louis of France was so dismayed at the sudden collapse of the rebellion in England—a collapse which necessarily entailed a like fate upon the rebellion in Normandy, since the leaders were the same men in both cases—that he at once recalled the young king and the count of Flanders from their project of invasion. As a last resource, all three concentrated their forces upon the siege of Rouen.[822] Its garrison held out gallantly until Henry had time to recross the sea with his Brabantines and a thousand Welshmen[823] who had already done good service under Rees Ap-Griffith at the siege of Tutbury.[824] On August 11, three days after landing, he entered Rouen;[825] a successful raid of his Welshmen upon some French convoys, followed by an equally successful sally of Henry himself against the besieging forces, sufficed to make Louis ask for a truce, under cover of which he fled with his whole host back into his own dominions.[826] Some three weeks later[827] he and Henry met in conference at Gisors and arranged a suspension of hostilities until Michaelmas on all sides, except between Henry and his son Richard, who was fighting independently against his father’s loyal subjects in Poitou.[828] Henry marched southward at once; Richard fled before him from place to place, leaving his conquests to fall back one by one into the hands of their rightful owner; at last he suddenly returned to throw himself at his father’s feet, and a few days before Michaelmas Henry concluded his war in Poitou[829] by entering Poitiers in triumph with Richard, penitent and forgiven, at his side.[830]

On the last day of September the two kings and all the princes met in conference between Tours and Amboise.[831] Henry’s three elder sons accepted the endowments which he offered them; in return, the young king gave his assent to a provision for John. A general amnesty was agreed upon; all prisoners on both sides, except the king of Scots, the earls of Leicester and Chester and Ralf of Fougères, were released at once; all the rebels returned to their allegiance, and were fully forgiven; Henry claimed nothing from any of them save the restoration of their castles to the condition in which they had been before the war, and the right of taking such hostages and other security as he might choose.[832] These terms of course did not apply to England; while, on the other hand, the king of Scots and his fellow-captives, whom Henry had brought back with him to Normandy and replaced in confinement at Falaise,[833] were excluded from them as prisoners of war. It was at Falaise, on October 11, that Henry and his sons embodied their agreement in a written document.[834] A few weeks later William of Scotland, with the formal assent of the bishops and barons of his realm, who had been allowed free access to him during his captivity, submitted to pay the price which Henry demanded for his ransom. The legal relations between the crowns of England and Scotland had been doubtful ever since the days of William the Conqueror and Malcolm Canmore, if not since the days of Eadward the Elder and Constantine; henceforth they were to be doubtful no longer. William the Lion became the liegeman of the English king and of his son for Scotland and for all his other lands, and agreed that their heirs should be entitled to a like homage and fealty from all future kings of Scots. The castles of Roxburgh, Jedburgh, Berwick, Edinburgh and Stirling were required by Henry as security; and as soon as the treaty had been ratified at Valognes[835] William was sent over sea in a sort of honourable custody to enforce their surrender and thereby complete his own release.[836]

By the terms of Henry’s treaty with France, all the English barons who held lands on both sides of the sea were to be at once re-instated in their continental possessions, except the castles over which the king resumed his ancient rights of garrison or of demolition. Their English estates however were wholly at his mercy; but he made a very gentle use of his power over them. He took in fact no personal vengeance at all; he exacted simply what was necessary for securing his own authority and the peace of the realm—the instant departure of the Flemish mercenaries[837] and the demolition of unlicensed fortifications—and for defraying the expenses of the war. This was done by a tax levied partly on the royal demesnes, partly on the estates of the rebels throughout the country, on the basis of an assessment made for that purpose during the past summer by the sheriffs of the several counties, assisted by some officers of the Exchequer.[838] No ruinous sums were demanded; even Hugh Bigod escaped with a fine of a thousand marks, and lost none of the revenues of his earldom save for the time that he was actually in open rebellion; the third penny of Norfolk was reckoned as due to him again from the third day after his surrender, and its amount for two months was paid to him accordingly at Michaelmas.[839] Even the earls of Leicester and Chester seem to have been at once set free;[840] and in little more than two years they were restored to all their lands and honours, except their castles, which were either razed or retained in the king’s hands.[841]