According to Geoffrey’s own account, he followed his brother as far as Vézelay, and there won from him a remission of this vow.[1520] It is certain that by April 1191 Richard had so far changed his mind again as to be desirous of Geoffrey’s speedy consecration. The Pope’s consent was still lacking; and the negotiations for obtaining this were undertaken by the person who, from Geoffrey’s very birth, had been his most determined enemy—Queen Eleanor. When she went from Messina to Rome to plead his cause with Clement III. or his successor Celestine,[1521] it is plain that natural feeling gave way to motives of policy. She could now see that an archbishop of York might become very useful in England, in holding the balance between Hugh of Durham and William of Ely. His canonical authority and personal influence might furnish, not indeed a counterpoise, but at least a check to the now unlimited powers of the legate. On the other hand, it was the long vacancy of York which more than anything else had tended to Hugh’s exaltation. For ten years the bishop of Durham, with no metropolitan over him, had virtually been himself metropolitan of northern England. He strongly resented the filling of the vacant see, and had actually obtained from Clement III. a privilege of exemption from its jurisdiction.[1522] If the archbishop of York could be reinstated in his proper constitutional position, his own interests would lead him to use it for those of the kingdom and the king.

Geoffrey’s qualifications and disqualifications for such a task may be very easily summed up. He had the Angevin fearlessness, energy, persistence and thoroughness, with a fair share of the versatile capabilities of the family; he had all their impetuosity, but very little of their wariness and tact. Mingled with the Angevin fire, there seems to have run in his veins the blood, and with it the spirit, of a totally different race. If we may credit on such a point the gossip of his father’s court, Geoffrey was through his mother a child of the people—seemingly the English people—and of its very lowest class.[1523] This consideration has more interest at a later stage of Geoffrey’s career, when he stands forth as a champion of constitutional liberty. Until then, there is, so far as we can see, no evidence of any special sympathy between him and the English people. Yet the plebeian and probably English element in him existed, or was believed to exist; and if it did not become, as it easily might have done, an important element in his political career, it was at any rate not unlikely to have exercised some influence upon his character.

Eleanor’s mission to Rome succeeded. Geoffrey’s election and his claim to the obedience of the bishop of Durham were both confirmed by Pope Celestine;[1524] he was consecrated at Tours by Archbishop Bartholomew on August 18, and received his pall on the same day.[1525] He at once put himself in communication with John, to secure a protector on his return to his see;[1526] for William of Longchamp, having had no notice from Richard of the remission of Geoffrey’s vow of absence, refused to believe in it,[1527] and had not only issued orders for the archbishop’s arrest as soon as he should land in England,[1528] but had agreed with the countess of Flanders that no Flemish ship should be allowed to give him a passage. The countess, however, evaded her agreement by letting him sail from Wissant in an English boat.[1529] He landed at Dover on Holy Cross day,[1530] having changed his clothes to avoid recognition.[1531] The constable of Dover, Matthew de Clères, was absent; his wife Richenda was a sister of William of Longchamp; her men-at-arms surrounded the archbishop the moment he touched the shore, recognized him in spite of his disguise, and strove to arrest him, but he managed to free himself from their hands and make his way to the priory of S. Martin, just outside the town. Here for five days Richenda’s followers vainly endeavoured to blockade and starve him into surrender.[1532] On the fifth day a band of armed men rushed into the priory-church, and in the chancellor’s name ordered Geoffrey to quit the country at once. Geoffrey, seated by the altar, clad in his pontifical robes and with his archiepiscopal cross in his hand, set them and their chancellor at defiance.[1533] They dragged him out of the church by the hands and feet; and as nothing would induce him to mount a horse which they brought for him, they dragged him on, still in the same array, still clinging to his cross and excommunicating them as they went, all through the town to the castle, where they flung him into prison.[1534]

This outrage roused up all parties alike in Church and state. England had had quite enough of persecuted and martyred archbishops. Protests and remonstrances came pouring in upon the chancellor from the most opposite quarters:—from the treasurer and bishop of London, Richard Fitz-Nigel[1535]—from the aged bishop of Norwich, John of Oxford,[1536] and from the Canterbury chapter,[1537] both of whom had had only too much experience, in different ways, of the disasters which might result from such violence to an archbishop. The most venerated of living English prelates, S. Hugh of Lincoln, at once excommunicated Richenda, her husband and all her abettors, with lighted candles at Oxford.[1538] John remonstrated most vehemently of all,[1539] and his remonstrances procured Geoffrey’s release,[1540] but only on condition that he would go straight to London and there remain till the case between him and the chancellor could be tried by an assembly of bishops and barons.[1541] This of course satisfied nobody. John had no mind to lose his opportunity of crushing his enemy once for all. From Lancaster, where he was laying his plans with the help of Bishop Hugh of Coventry—a nephew of the old arch-plotter Arnulf of Lisieux—he hurried to Marlborough, and thence sent out summons to all the great men whom he thought likely to help him against the chancellor. He was not disappointed. The co-justiciars hastened up from the various shires where they were apparently busy with their judicial or financial visitations—William the Marshal from Gloucestershire, William Bruère from Oxfordshire, Geoffrey Fitz-Peter from Northamptonshire; the bishops were represented by Godfrey of Winchester and Reginald of Bath, and the sovereign himself by Walter of Rouen; S. Hugh of Lincoln joined the train as it passed through Oxford to Reading. From Reading John sent to call his half-brother to his side. Geoffrey, who was beginning to be looked upon and to look upon himself as something like another S. Thomas, had made a sort of triumphal progress from Dover to London; tied by his parole, he was obliged to ask the chancellor’s consent to his acceptance of John’s invitation, and only gained it on condition of returning within a given time.[1542]

The chancellor meanwhile was at Norwich;[1543] and thither John and the justiciars had already sent him a summons to appear before them and answer for his conduct towards both Geoffrey of York and Hugh of Durham, at an assembly to be held at the bridge over the Lodden, between Reading and Windsor, on Saturday October 5.[1544] William retorted by a counter-summons to all who had joined the count of Mortain to forsake him as an usurper and return to their obedience to the king’s chosen representative.[1545] He hurried, however, to Windsor in time for the proposed meeting; but when the Saturday morning came, the earls of Arundel, Warren and Norfolk appeared at the trysting-place in his stead, pleading ill-health as an excuse for his absence.[1546] As Saturday was accounted an unlucky day for contracts or settlements of any kind,[1547] no one regretted the delay; John and the barons, sitting amid a ring of spectators in the meadows by the Lodden, spent the day in discussing all the complaints against the chancellor, and also, apparently, in looking through such of the Norman primate’s bundle of royal letters as he chose to shew them, and deliberating which would be most appropriate to the present state of affairs. On one point all were agreed; the chancellor must be put down at once.[1548] Early next morning he tried to bribe John into reconciliation, but in vain.[1549] At the high mass in Reading parish church the whole body of bishops lighted their candles and publicly excommunicated all who had been, whether by actual participation, command or consent, concerned in Archbishop Geoffrey’s arrest;[1550] and at nightfall the chancellor was compelled to swear that, come what might, he would be ready to stand his trial at the bridge of Lodden on the morrow.[1551]