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]

Scarcely had he set out on the Monday morning when he was met by a report that his enemies were marching upon London.[1552] The report was true in substance; John and the barons, instead of waiting for him at the Lodden bridge, crossed it, and then divided their forces into two bodies; the smaller, consisting of the bishops and barons with John himself, proceeded towards Windsor to meet the chancellor; the larger, comprising the men-at-arms and the servants in charge of the baggage, was sent on by the southern road to Staines.[1553] Such a movement was quite enough to justify William in hurrying back to Windsor and thence on to London as fast as horses could carry him.[1554] Before he could reach it he met John’s men-at-arms coming up by the other road from Staines; a skirmish took place, in which John’s justiciar Roger de Planes was mortally wounded, but his followers seem to have had the best of the fight,[1555] although they could not prevent the chancellor from making his way safe into London. Here he at once called a meeting of the citizens in the Guildhall, and endeavoured to secure their support against John.[1556] He found, however, a strong party opposed to himself. On the last day of July[1557]—three days after the second award between John and William at Winchester—the citizens of London had profited by the king’s absence and his representative’s humiliation to set up a commune. They knew very well that, as a contemporary writer says, neither King Henry nor King Richard would have sanctioned such a thing at any price;[1558] and they knew even better still that Richard’s chancellor would never countenance it for a moment. With John they might have a chance, and they were not disposed to lose it by shutting their gates in his face at the bidding of William of Longchamp. William, seeing that his cause was lost in the city, shut himself up in the Tower.[1559]

By this time John and his companions were at the gates; a short parley ended in their admittance.[1560] Next morning barons and citizens came together in S. Paul’s.[1561]. One after another the chancellor’s victims, with the archbishop of York at their head, set forth their grievances.[1562] Archbishop Walter of Rouen and William the Marshal then produced the king’s letter of February 20, addressed to the Marshal, and accrediting Walter to him and his fellow-justiciars, and bidding them, in case of any failure of duty on the chancellor’s part, follow Walter’s direction in all things.[1563] John and the barons agreed to act in accordance with these instructions; they won the assent of the citizens by swearing to maintain the commune;[1564] the whole assembly then swore fealty to Richard, and to John as his destined successor.[1565] According to one account they went a step further: they appointed John regent of the kingdom, and granted him the disposal of all the royal castles except three, which were to be left to the chancellor.[1566] Upon the latter they now set out to enforce their decision at the sword’s point. His forces were more than sufficient to defend the Tower; they were in fact too numerous; they had had no time to revictual the place, they were painfully overcrowded, and before twenty-four hours were over they found their position untenable.[1567] On the Wednesday William tried to bribe John into abandoning the whole enterprise, and he very nearly succeeded; Geoffrey of York and Hugh of Coventry, however, discovered what was going on, and remonstrated so loudly that John was obliged to drop the negotiation and continue the siege.[1568] In the afternoon, at the chancellor’s own request, four bishops and four earls went to speak with him in the Tower.[1569] Five days of intense excitement had so exhausted his feeble frame that when they told him what had passed at the meeting on the previous day, he dropped senseless at their feet, and when brought to himself could at first do nothing but implore their sympathy and mediation.[1570] The brutal insolence of Hugh of Coventry,[1571] however, seems to have stung him into his wonted boldness again. With flashing eyes he told them that the day of reckoning was yet to come, when they and their new lord would have to account for their treason with Richard himself; and he sent them away with a positive refusal to surrender either his castles or his seal.[1572] Late at night, however, as he lay vainly endeavouring to gain a little rest, his friends came and implored him to abandon the useless struggle with fate; and at last his brother Osbert and some others wrung from him an unwilling permission to go and offer themselves as hostages for his submission on the morrow.[1573]

On the Thursday morning the barons assembled in the fields east of the Tower,[1574] and there William of Longchamp went forth to meet them. The instant he appeared Hugh of Coventry stepped forward, recited the whole indictment against him, and pronounced with brutal bluntness the sentence of the assembly.[1575] William was to be deposed from all secular authority, to keep nothing but his bishopric and the castles of Dover, Cambridge and Hereford; he must give hostages for his future good behaviour; then let him begone wherever he would. The assembly broke into a chorus of approval which seemed intended to give William no chance of reply; but his dauntless spirit had by this time regained its mastery over his physical weakness; he stood quietly till they had all talked themselves out, and then they had to listen in their turn. He denied every one of the charges against him; he refused to recognize either the moral justice or the legal validity of his deposition; he agreed to surrender the castles, because he no longer had power to hold them, but he still lifted up his protest, as King Richard’s lawful chancellor and justiciar, against all the proceedings and the very existence of the new ministry.[1576] Walter of Rouen was at once proclaimed justiciar in his stead.[1577] The keys of the Tower and of Windsor castle, and the hostages, were delivered up next morning, and William was then allowed to withdraw to Bermondsey, whence on the following day he proceeded to Dover.[1578] Thence, apparently in a desperate hope that his men might yet be able to hold the castles till he could gather means to relieve them, he twice attempted to escape over sea, first in the disguise of a monk, then in that of a pedlar-woman. His lameness, however, and his ignorance of English were fatal to his chances of flight; he was detected, dragged back into the town, and shut up in prison till all the castles were surrendered. Then he was set at liberty, and sailed for Gaul on October 29.[1579]