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H E N RY I I I
i
Also in the Yale English Monarchs Series
ii
H E N RY I I I
Reform, Rebellion, Civil War, Settlement
1258–1272
David Carpenter
iii
Copyright © 2023 David Carpenter
All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, in any form
(beyond that copying permitted by Sections 107 and 108 of the U.S. Copyright Law and
except by reviewers for the public press) without written permission from the publishers.
All reasonable efforts have been made to provide accurate sources for all images that
appear in this book. Any discrepancies or omissions will be rectified in future editions.
For information about this and other Yale University Press publications, please contact:
U.S. Office: [email protected] yalebooks.com
Europe Office: [email protected] yalebooks.co.uk
e-ISBN 978-0-300-27127-0
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
iv
To Jane, Katie and James,
and in memory of my parents
v
vi
CONTENTS
GLOSSARY 640
APPENDIX 1 THE CHRONOLOGY OF THE COSMATI WORK 644
AT WESTMINSTER ABBEY
APPENDIX 2 HENRY’S WILL 654
BIBLIOGRAPHY 656
INDEX 6 83
vii
IL LUS T R AT I O N S A ND MAPS
PLATES
1. The shield of Simon de Montfort in the choir of Westminster Abbey.
© Dean and Chapter of Westminster.
2. The seal of Eleanor de Montfort. © Bibliothèque nationale de France,
Département des Manuscrits, Clairambault 1188.
3. Henry III’s proclamation announcing the authority of the council in
1258. © Oxfordshire History Centre (OCA4/1/A1/58).
4. Henry bearing the coffin of Louis IX’s son in Paris. © Bibliothèque
Nationale, Paris, Department of Manuscripts, Clairambault 632.
5. The ruling council’s ratification of the peace with France, October
1259. © Archives Nationales de France (J 629 / 10).
6. The battlefield of Lewes. By kind permission of The Sussex
Archaeological Society.
7. English Heritage reconstruction drawing of Kenilworth castle.
© Historic England Archive (IC053_028).
8. The chapter house of Westminster Abbey. © Dean and Chapter of
Westminster.
9. Charter, 1265. © Herefordshire Record Office (BG/11/15/6).
10. Henry III’s itinerary before the battle of Evesham. © The National
Archives.
11. The mutilation of Simon de Montfort’s body at the battle of Evesham.
© British Library Board. All Rights Reserved / Bridgeman Images.
12. The Douce Apocalypse. CC by NC 4.0. © Bodleian Libraries,
University of Oxford.
13. Vault of Westminster Abbey. © Paul Grover / Alamy.
14. Westminster Abbey’s Cosmati pavement. © Dean and Chapter of
Westminster.
15. Centre stone of Westminster Abbey’s Cosmati pavement. © Dean and
Chapter of Westminster.
16. Coronation of Edward the Confessor, as copied by Charles Stothard, 1819.
Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection (B1977.14.22593).
17. Sketch of Henry III’s head on memoranda roll of the exchequer,
1266–7. © The National Archives.
18. King Edward, from the sedilia of Westminster Abbey. © Dean and
Chapter of Westminster.
viii
illus trations and maps ix
19. King Henry, from the sedilia of Westminster Abbey. © Dean and
Chapter of Westminster.
20. Shrine of Edward the Confessor and tomb of Henry III. © Greg
Funnell 2007. All rights reserved.
21. Engravings of a queen and young woman. © Dean and Chapter of
Westminster.
22. Henry III’s head from the effigy on his tomb in Westminster Abbey.
© Dean and Chapter of Westminster.
MAPS
1. Wales in the 1250s and 1260s. xvi
2. The Treaty of Paris. 84
3. The Battle of Lewes. 314
4. The Campaigns between May and August 1265. 433
5. The Battle of Evesham. 446
P R E FAC E
Volume 1 of this biography ended with the parliament of April 1258 when
an armed march on Westminster Hall forced Henry III to accept reform of
the realm. Volume 2 continues from that point and takes the story to Henry’s
death in 1272. Although it covers only fourteen years of the reign as opposed
to volume 1’s over forty, it is much the same length. I am not conscious of
writing at any different pace. It is simply that the years from 1258 are the
more packed with incident, indeed politically they are amongst the most
dramatic and traumatic periods in English history. After the Westminster
parliament, a baronial council took control of the country and promulgated
reforms far more revolutionary and wide-ranging than those of Magna
Carta in 1215. They were known as the Provisions of Oxford. In 1261, Henry
recovered power only to lose it in 1263 to a movement pledged to restore the
Provisions. It was led by his brother-in-law, Simon de Montfort, earl of
Leicester, one of the greatest figures in English history, venerated and vilified
in equal measure. On 14 May 1264 Montfort won a miraculous victory at the
battle of Lewes, taking prisoner both Henry and his eldest son, Lord Edward.
Thereafter Montfort governed England down to his defeat and death (his
body gruesomely mutilated) at the battle of Evesham on 4 August 1265. The
royalist victory, however, only brought more war. Henry’s government
attempted to disinherit Montfort’s supporters and the result was two further
years of strife. The period between 1263 and 1267 saw widespread destruc-
tion. There was a massacre of the Jews in London and attacks on them in
other towns. Both sides ravaged the estates and seized the possessions of their
enemies. The political community was torn apart in a way unseen again until
the 1640s. But in the end the policy of disinheritance was reversed, the
wounds of the war closed over and Henry’s reign ended in peace.
The period of reform and rebellion between 1258 and 1265 has been
accorded great social and constitutional significance, rightly so. Hostility
to the king’s foreign relations and fear of foreign invasion sharpened and
defined a sense of English national identity. In 1263, Simon de Montfort
even promulgated a ‘statute’ expelling aliens from the country, ‘never to
return’. The political community expanded in size and came to embrace
knights, townsmen and peasants as well as earls and barons. Knights
representing the counties and burgesses the towns were summoned to
Simon de Montfort’s parliament of 1265, ‘the first parliament with a house
of commons’. A precedent was set. The parliaments of Henry’s last years
x
p r e fac e xi
were very different in terms of structure from those before 1258. These
events were inseparable from political ideas and those ideas were insep
arable from religion. Leading churchmen deeply influenced the political
actors, none more so than Simon de Montfort himself. That is one reason
why the reforms, in a unique way, were as much concerned with the
malpractices of magnates as with those of the king.
The period created new relationships between England and its neigh-
bours, although they were not to last. The Treaty of Paris in 1259, with
Henry resigning his claims to Normandy, Anjou and Poitou, while accepting
he held Gascony as a fief from the king of France, reshaped the political
structure of Europe and ushered in thirty-five years of Anglo-French peace.
The treaty of Montgomery in 1267 set up a new political structure in Wales,
with the ruler of Gwynedd, Llywelyn ap Gruffudd, being recognized as its
prince. Scotland, meanwhile, was left to itself. King Alexander III, thanks
to the good relations fostered by Henry before 1258, behaved very differ-
ently from his father in the rebellion against King John. Alexander II had
sided with the barons. Alexander III was about to send forces to Henry’s
aid when forestalled by news of Evesham. There was equally no repeat of
the interaction between English and Irish politics seen both under King
John and in the crisis of 1233–4.
The political revolution robbing Henry of power means he is less central
to volume 2 than to volume 1. In 1258–9 the great reform of the realm, its
ambitions, motivations and achievements, holds the stage. Thereafter, the
story is increasingly dominated by Simon de Montfort, one of the few medi-
eval nobles whose character and ideas shine forth from abundant source
material. Henry also comes to be overshadowed by his eldest son. From 1263,
Lord Edward is the essential commander of the royalist cause. The contrast
between Henry’s inertia and Edward’s drive is extreme. Also important was
Henry’s queen, Eleanor of Provence. Far more steely than her husband, she
had much to do with his varying fortunes in 1258, 1261 and 1263. In 1264 she
raised an army to invade England after Henry’s and Edward’s capture at
Lewes. Yet, for all the prominence of Simon de Montfort, Lord Edward and
the queen, Henry can never be ignored. His will, if exercised spasmodically,
often impacted on events. He survived battles and captivity to die peacefully
in his bed. By then, he had one great achievement to his credit, the greatest
he would have thought of his reign. On 13 October 1269 his new Abbey at
Westminster was consecrated and the body of Edward the Confessor trans-
lated to its glittering new shrine behind the high altar.
Given their appeal and importance, the years between 1258 and 1267
have been much travelled by historians, far more so than many periods of
Henry’s personal rule.1 I could not have written this book without their
manifold and great labours. Many have shared with me the fruits of so far
1 A clear and concise account can be found in Adrian Jobson’s The First English Revolution:
unpublished research. I thank them all in the following pages. If, nonethe-
less, I have missed or misapplied the work of fellow scholars, I apologize. As
I said in the introduction to volume 1, every time I read something new or
look again at something old, I find material I wish to include. But that would
make a long book even longer. I fear I remain an academic rather than a
popular historian, more concerned to delve down into the detail than to
think how to get the reader to turn the page. But I trust the uniqueness and
drama of the story will carry the reader through, or at least encourage
reading a part here, a part there (the chapters are divided into sections),
rather as I dip into Jacques Le Goff ’s 1,000-page biography of Henry’s
brother-in-law Saint Louis, although that certainly is a very different book.
It is somewhat daunting to realize that forty years have passed since I
signed up to write the biography of Henry III in what was then the
Methuen English Monarchs series. I do not regret the delay. After all it
gives me less time to learn I have got it all wrong! More seriously, had the
book come out around 1990, as first intended, it would have been far less
rich. That is very much due to the work of so many fellow historians in the
intervening years. It is also because I hope I have gained a deeper under-
standing of the primary sources. These enable the day-to-day politics of
the reign to be traced in unprecedented detail, which is fortunate for me
as I have always been fascinated by events, by the ‘what happened next
and why’ in history.2 I think also, over the years, I have gained a greater
appreciation of how Henry’s story opens a window onto the wider culture
of the age. This is why, as well as giving them separate treatment in
volume 1, I have tried to graft Henry’s piety and artistic patronage into the
political narrative throughout, like the shells in a shaft of Purbeck marble.
To the narrative in volume 2, I have added two thematic chapters. One,
‘Henry and his People’, looks at the light shed on his personal rule by all
the complaints made against royal and baronial officials in 1258–9. The
other, ‘Montfort’s Kingdom’, considers the material and ideological basis
for the great earl’s revolutionary regime.3 I have also included a Glossary
explaining some of the terms appearing in the book.
2 It would have been impossible for Jacques Le Goff to have written the same kind of
detailed narrative of the reign of Saint Louis, not that he would have wanted to do so
anyway.
3 I salute here the unnamed heroes who produced so much of the source material of the
reign, namely the royal clerks who wrote up the rolls of the chancery, the exchequer and
the law courts. The chancery rolls alone, recording the king’s charters and letters (as
published now either in full Latin transcription or in English calendar), run to over 14,500
pages. The translations of the Henry III fine rolls by Paul Dryburgh and Beth Hartland,
placed online by the Henry III fine rolls project (www.finerollshenry3.org.uk), run to around
two million words. No wonder the clerks occasionally lightened their labours by including
marginal drawings, doggerel poems and such remarks as ‘every man the first good wine
(omnis homo primum bonum vinum)’, thus adapting Christ’s observation that every man serves
the best wine first (John 2:10): TNA E 159/31, m. 8d (image 0101). Illustrations of marginalia
are brought together in Hershey, Drawings.
p r e fac e xiii
4 Inspired by Michael’s information about the fish (when commenting on volume 1), I
have now sampled lampreys. They taste like beef stew and are thus an excellent meat
substitute. One can understand why Henry and Eleanor thought other fish ‘insipid’. For
the recipe (cooked by Claire Gaskell), see https://worldoffinewine.com/2021/10/21/
at-the-table-lamproie-a-la-bordelaise. The lampreys came, however, from the Dordogne,
not, as with Henry, the Severn.
A N OT E O N T HE T EX T
1 For standards of living, see C. Dyer, Standards of Living in the Later Middle Ages: Social
xiv
a note on the text xv
relevant dates, for Close Rolls). Full references to all these sources may be
found in the Bibliography. In references to unprinted sources, BL stands
for the British Library, TNA for The National Archives at Kew and WAM
for Westminster Abbey Muniments. Other archival references are given in
full. Secondary sources are cited by the surname of the author and a short
form of the title of the work, italicized in the case of books, within
inverted commas in the case of articles and chapters in volumes of essays.
Full details may be found in the Bibliography under the name of the
author. I have stuck to the division between primary and secondary
sources although many printed primary sources have important introduc-
tions by their editors.
PERSONAL NAMES
In the case of toponymic surnames, the modern form of the place has
been given preceded by ‘of ’, so Warin of Bassingbourn. The exceptions
are where this would overturn established usage, so Gilbert de Clare not
Gilbert of Clare. If the place is in France, the modern form is given
preceded by ‘de’, but again exceptions are made where this contradicts
established usage, so Robert de Ferrers, not de Ferrières. Where places
have not been identified, a common contemporary form is used preceded
by ‘de’. In general, I have tried to follow the forms found in the transla-
tions of the fine rolls: https://finerollshenry3.org.uk/home.html
Deganwy
A NG LE SEY Dyserth COUNTY
THE FOUR Mold Hawarden
Bangor CANTREFS Chester OF
D D
E CHESTER
N Y S
Y OW
W H
P
G T
N OR Ellesmere
Oswestry
fitzAlan
W YS Shrewsbury
PO
Irish T
H S ev e
rn
U CYDEWAIN Montgomery
O MONTGOMERY
Sea I
S
C ER
GWERTHRYNION
N
Mortimer
IO
MAELIENYDD
Wigmore
IG
Cefnllys
D
E Builth Clifford
C
Cardigan Painscastle Hereford
Hay Wye
Brecon
St Davids CARMARTHEN BRECON
Carmarthen Abergavenny
Bohun Haverford
Usk Clare
PEMBROKE
Pembroke Valence Swansea Chepstow
GOWER GLAMORGAN Bigod
Areas ruled by Briouze Clare Caerphilly
Llywelyn, 1255
Cardiff
Territory ceded to
Llywelyn, 1267 N
xvi
Chapter 1
RE VO LUT I O N AN D REFO RM
1 25 8–1 25 9
1
Volume 1, 696.
2
The queen’s uncles were the brothers of her mother, Beatrice, a daughter of the count
of Savoy. Of them, Peter of Savoy became lord of Richmond in Yorkshire and Pevensey
in Sussex while Boniface became archbishop of Canterbury. The king’s half-brothers were
the children of his mother Isabella of Angoulême’s second marriage to Hugh, lord of
Lusignan in Poitou and count of La Marche. Two of the brothers settled in England, the
youngest, Aymer, who became bishop-elect of Winchester, and William de Valence who,
besides Hertford castle and other lands, gained, through marriage, Pembroke in Wales.
Two other brothers, Guy and Geoffrey de Lusignan, made frequent visits to England and
were given wardships and money pensions.
h e n ry i i i
3
See volume 1, 688; SERHB, i, no. 5.
4
The classic work on parliament is John Maddicott’s The Origins of the English Parliament.
5 See volume 1, 758 (the index under parliament).
revolution and reform
The final march on the king’s hall was almost certainly masterminded
by seven magnates who had leagued themselves together earlier in the
parliament. They were Richard de Clare, earl of Gloucester and Hertford,
Roger Bigod, earl of Norfolk, Simon de Montfort, earl of Leicester, Peter
of Savoy, Hugh Bigod (Roger Bigod’s brother), John fitzGeoffrey and Peter
de Montfort (no relation of Simon, though, as we will see, a close ally).6
All, save Roger Bigod, had been on the king’s council before 1258, so this
was very much a revolution within the court of Henry III. The seven were
determined to bring down the Lusignans, take over the government of the
realm and carry through, to some degree at least, a wider programme of
reform. The fact that Queen Eleanor’s uncle Peter of Savoy was one of
the seven showed that the queen herself sympathized with the revolution.
It would, she hoped, lay low her Lusignan enemies and prevent them
allying (a particular anxiety) with the heir to the throne, her son Lord
Edward.7
The ensuing revolution was unprecedented in its scope and scale. The
king was stripped of power and a baronial council took over the govern-
ment of the country. This was far more revolutionary than Magna Carta
in 1215, which had placed all kinds of restrictions on King John but left
him in control of central government and free to appoint whom he liked
as his ministers. The revolution also overhauled the running of local
government, with measures focusing on the abuses of magnates as well as
those of the king. Here, too, ‘1258’ was very different from ‘1215’. The
intended beneficiaries were knights, free tenants and even peasants. The
political community was expanding in size. The foundations were being
laid for the summoning of knights and burgesses to parliament. Meanwhile,
of the major items on Henry III’s agenda before the revolution, the
campaign in Wales was abandoned by the barons, while the Sicilian
project was effectively terminated by the pope, for all Henry’s hopes of its
revival. The peace with France, however, went ahead. So, in a watershed
moment in European history, Henry abandoned claims to his lost conti-
nental empire and did homage to Louis IX for Gascony, his one remaining
continental possession.
Given the years 1258–9 are amongst the most charged and complex in
English history, I have divided my account between the next three chap-
ters. In this I outline the development of the reforms and consider how the
barons were able to achieve so much. In chapter 2 I discuss baronial
motives and in particular those of Simon de Montfort. Chapter 3 looks at
the place of the king, queen and Lord Edward in the ongoing revolution,
while chapter 4 is about the peace with France.
6 Bémont, Simon de Montfort, 327. I give the names in the order found in the text of the
alliance.
7 For the style ‘Lord Edward’, see volume 1, 503 n. 76.
h e n ry i i i
8
CPR 1247–58, 632. Alice, daughter of the marquis of Saluzzo, was the widow of
Edmund de Lacy, heir to the earldom of Lincoln.
9 TNA SC 1/7/16.
10 See volume 1, 697.
11 CR 1256–9, 222.
12 Gonville and Caius College Cambridge, MS 205, fo. 303v; Sayles, Functions of the
13 Around the time of the Westminster parliament, Leybourne received the Easter
instalment of the 40-mark annual fee he received from the king: TNA E 403/3114.
R.F. Walker, using the evidence from the liberate rolls, states that in 1257 thirty-nine
household knights were in receipt of annual fees: Walker, ‘Anglo-Welsh wars’, 70.
14 Abingdon, 50.
15 Nothing now remains of either the house of the Dominicans or the adjoining house
of the Franciscans, although foundations, partly excavated, survive under the Westgate
shopping centre and adjoining buildings.
16 Paris, v, 695–6; Burton, 438.
17 Wykes, 118.
18 F, i, 372 (CPR 1247–58, 636).
h e n ry i i i
Llywelyn would allow supplies through from Chester. The truce showed
all too clearly that the Four Cantrefs between the Conwy and the Dee,
conquered by Henry in the 1240s and then given to Lord Edward, were
now almost completely in Llywelyn’s hands. The revolutionary regime just
let that go. Its priority was reform in England. In Wales, it calculated the
marcher barons could look after themselves. The losers from the truce
would be the king and Lord Edward.19 There was no point throwing back
Llywelyn in order to strengthen them.
If all those summoned for the Welsh campaign actually appeared, then
over 130 tenants-in-chief mustered in Oxford, ranging from earls and
barons to men of knightly status.20 Many more knights must have been
present in the retinues of the earls and greater barons. The baronial
leaders, therefore, commanded considerable coercive power. The question
was whether it would outmatch that being rallied by their enemies. The
knights at Oxford were important in another way. Their presence, voicing
the discontent in the shires, ensured reform of local government was
planned from the start. This was not to be just a court coup and a
rearrangement of the king’s council. Thus one set of proposals drawn up
at Oxford for future legislative reform, although called by historians ‘The
Petition of the Barons’, voiced as well the grievances of local society
against the sheriffs and justices in eyre. The Petition also complained that
magnates had oppressed lesser men by buying up the debts that the latter
owed the Jews.21
Another factor affecting the composition of the Oxford parliament
gave the barons the freer rein. This was the absence of the bishops. With
one exception, that of Fulk Basset of London, they were not prepared to
intervene on Henry’s side.22 At the Westminster parliament itself they had
withdrawn rather than do anything to prevent the king’s coercion. Their
abstention was hardly surprising given the church’s sufferings during
Henry’s rule. Apart from the Sicilian taxation, there were resentments
over the king’s interference with the appointment of bishops, his exploita-
tion of vacant sees during the resulting disputes and his challenge to the
church’s jurisdictional privileges, all, so it was said, in breach of Magna
Carta.23 The archbishop of Canterbury, meanwhile, the queen’s uncle
19
Two marchers on the baronial twelve and council of fifteen, the earl of Hereford and
Roger de Mortimer, were not apparently at Oxford. Presumably they were busy in Wales.
20 Maddicott, Simon de Montfort, 157.
21 DBM, no. 3, esp. pp. 86–7, cap. 25.
22 For a full analysis of why the bishops did not join the revolution, see Ambler, Bishops
in the Political Community, ch. 5. Ambler (pp. 108–12) argues convincingly that the bishops did
not promulgate a sentence of excommunication at Oxford against those who opposed the
reforms. Such a sentence was rather promulgated in October 1259 in support of the
Provisions of Westminster.
23 See volume 1, 216, 434–5 (where I discuss how so pious a king could offend the
Boniface of Savoy, far from siding with the king, condoned or at least
accepted the revolution in the hope of besting his Lusignan enemies.
If, however, the bishops gave no help to the king, only Walter de
Cantilupe of Worcester was an out-and-out baronial partisan. When it
came to the church’s grievances, the bishops had decided to go it alone
rather than look to the barons for help. They knew the latter had little
sympathy for their jurisdictional claims. After the Westminster parliament
Archbishop Boniface had convened a church council to meet at Merton in
Surrey on 6 June. It drew up a series of provisions and promulgated
numerous sentences of excommunication against those who violated the
church’s liberties.24 After the council finished on 8 June, very few of those
present seem to have come on to the Oxford parliament. Only the bishops
of Worcester and London were certainly there. A memorandum drawn up
at the parliament about reforms to be promulgated simply said that the
twenty-four would ‘amend the state of the church . . . as soon as they can
find time’.25 They never did. This does not mean churchmen were unen-
thusiastic about the reforms. But, for the moment, they were mostly
outside the episcopal bench. Later this was to change. A new group of
bishops, appointed in and after 1258, was to give passionate support to
Simon de Montfort’s cause.
24
C&S, ii, 568–85; Hoskin, ‘Natural law, protest and the English episcopate’, 86.
25 DBM, 106–7, cap. 12.
26 For the office, see volume 1, 453, 459. The documents relating to the provisions drawn
up at Oxford and later in 1258 are discussed in Clementi, ‘The documentary evidence for
the crisis of government in England in 1258’, and Valente, ‘The Provisions of Oxford’.
27 For Hugh, see Hershey, ‘Success or failure?’ Hugh Bigod and judicial reform during
and remained on good terms with Henry thereafter. In May, with the king
still a free agent, he helped draw up the replies to the pope’s Sicilian
proposals and was appointed as one of the ambassadors going out to Louis
IX. At Oxford itself Henry’s half of the twenty-four chose him as one of
the electors of the new ruling council. Yet Hugh was absolutely committed
to the revolution. He was part of the original confederation of seven
magnates formed at the Westminster parliament. He was the brother of
Roger Bigod, earl of Norfolk, and the brother-in-law of John fitzGeoffrey.
Later he appears as an executor of Earl Richard de Clare’s will. His
marriage (by February 1244) to Joan de Stuteville, widow of Baldwin Wake,
made him powerful in his own right. He enjoyed a life interest in Joan’s
baronies of Cottingham in Yorkshire and Liddell Strength in Cumberland.
He also controlled, until the heir, Baldwin, came of age in 1259, the Wake
barony of Bourne in Lincolnshire.28 From his mother, a daughter of the
regent, William Marshal, he had gained Bosham in Sussex. As a member
of the king’s council before 1258, Hugh knew how law and government
worked. He was also a good man of business, having paid off steadily the
10,000-mark fine made by his wife for custody of the lands of her first
husband.29 Matthew Paris applauded Hugh’s appointment. He was ‘a
native of the land of the English’ and a famous knight, skilled in the law,
who would vigorously execute the office of justiciar and uphold the rights
of the realm.30
Although Hugh, in the mode of previous justiciars, came to act as the
king’s chief minister, at Oxford he was given a more specific brief, one
reflecting exactly why parliaments had called for the office’s revival. Hugh
was to remedy the abuses of lesser officials and give justice to everyone. To
render him immune from bribes, he was given a salary of 1,000 marks a
year. ‘It is right that the king should pay his justices . . . sufficiently so that
they have no need to accept anything from anyone else’, declared the plan
of reform.31 The barons certainly expected Hugh to remedy their own
grievances, but at Oxford procedures were also worked out whereby Hugh
could address local grievances as well. So four knights were to be appointed
in each county to sit in the county court and record all complaints against
sheriffs, bailiffs and everyone else. The complaints were to be enrolled
28
Joan was the sole heir of Nicholas II de Stuteville. Baldwin Wake was her heir but,
under English custom, Hugh Bigod had a life interest in the baronies, having a child by
Joan (the future Roger Bigod, earl of Norfolk). For Joan and the marriage, see Wilkinson,
‘Reformers and royalists: aristocratic women in politics’, 154–5, 158–9.
29 Joan’s fine for the wardship (and also to marry whom she wished, presumably Hugh)
was made in 1242: CFR 1241–2, no. 105. The regular payments can be traced in the
Yorkshire section of the pipe rolls. Since Hugh’s brother, Roger Bigod, was childless after
many years of marriage, Hugh was heir to the earldom of Norfolk.
30 Paris, v, 698.
31 DBM, 102–3, cap. 6; 106–9, caps. 13, 16; CLR 1251–60, 446. The king had paid salaries
32 Collingwood, ‘Royal finance’, ch. 3, has a full discussion of the reform of the shrieval
office.
33 See volume 1, 528–30.
34 For the reforms of 1236, see volume 1, 191–2.
35 For discussion of the tensions between the sheriffs’ fiscal accountability at the
exchequer, on the one hand, and their accountability to local communities, on the other,
see Sabapathy, Officers and Accountability, 113–20, 132–4.
36 DBM, 274–7, cap.6. This is the allegation in the statement of the baronial case made
to Louis IX in 1264.
37 Matthew Paris says the oath soon lost its force: Paris, HA, ii, 389. In 1253 there is a
reference to the customary oath taken by the sheriff on entering office but without any
indication of its nature: CR 1251–3, 385. I owe these references to Richard Cassidy.
h e n ry i i i
38 DBM, 108–9, cap. 17. As in 1236, this involved the sheriffs accounting for all the
revenue they received, the amount over and above the farm being termed ‘profit’.
39 CPR 1247–58, 637.
40 For Mansel and Plessis, see volume 1, 219–21.
41 The nine were Walter de Cantilupe, bishop of Worcester, Simon de Montfort,
Richard de Clare, Roger Bigod, Humphrey de Bohun, Roger de Mortimer, John fitzGeof-
frey, Peter de Montfort and Richard de Grey. Only William Bardolph, Hugh Despenser
and Hugh Bigod dropped out from the baronial twelve, Hugh Bigod because he was now
chief justiciar. The other two members of the council were William de Forz, earl of
Aumale, and James of Audley. Both were probably unknown quantities as far as Henry was
concerned. Though in receipt of occasional favours (CR 1256–9, 5, 59) neither had been
much at court before the revolution. Forz (lord of Cockermouth and Holderness) had been
sheriff of Cumberland since 1255. He had succeeded his father in 1241 on the payment of
a £100 relief in accordance with Magna Carta, of which 100 marks were pardoned: CFR
1240–1, no. 751; CFR 1241–2, no. 127. For him, see English, Lords of Holderness, 49–53, where
the degree of grievance over the Chester inheritance may be exaggerated. As English says,
perhaps he had a ‘docile nature’. Audley, from a knightly family associated with the earls
of Chester (see volume 1, 72), succeeded his father, Henry, in 1246. In 1252 he was lord of
no fewer than twenty-seven manors in Shropshire and Staffordshire (where Audley itself
was), as well as other properties in Wales and Cheshire: CChR 1226–57, 409. He was, there-
fore, a very powerful magnate. In the civil war he was to support the king. For a biography
of Audley, see Lloyd, ‘James Audley’.
revolution and reform
council before the revolution and been prominent at court during the
Oxford parliament. He had every right to be on the new council. But, as
both Matthew Paris and the Tewkesbury annalist recorded, he had doubts
about the revolution so he was out.42 The reason for his opposition is
unknown, but since he was in charge of King Richard’s affairs in England,
perhaps he argued that nothing should be done without Richard’s counsel
and consent.43
That things went so badly for the king was hardly surprising. Henry’s
twelve had far less political weight than the baronial twelve, a mark of his
isolation. John de Plessis, a Norman by birth, had started his career as a mere
household knight and was earl of Warwick simply in right of his wife.44 Only
one fully fledged earl was on Henry’s side, John de Warenne of Surrey. He
had married Henry’s half-sister Alice de Lusignan, and the alliance with the
Lusignans had survived Alice’s death. That was partly because Warenne was
daggers drawn with Peter of Savoy, a man very much ‘in’ with the revolu-
tionary regime as we will see.45 Alongside Warenne, Henry had only one
English magnate on his side, Fulk Basset himself, who, besides being bishop
of London, was head of the High Wycombe branch of the Basset family.
The king had too his twenty-three-year-old nephew, Henry, son of King
Richard (or Henry of Almain as he was generally called), but, unmarried, he
had no resources independent of his absent father. For the rest, the king’s
twelve included three of his Lusignan half-brothers – Aymer, bishop-elect of
Winchester, Guy de Lusignan and William de Valence – and the clerics
Richard of Croxley, abbot of Westminster, John Mansel, Henry of Wingham
(keeper of the seal), and the king’s confessor, John of Darlington.
The baronial twelve had altogether greater weight. They were headed
by Walter de Cantilupe, bishop of Worcester, who easily matched Bishop
Basset in terms of status and prestige. There were then four English earls
– Simon de Montfort, Richard de Clare, Humphrey de Bohun (of
Hereford) and Roger Bigod. Next came the great marcher baron Roger
de Mortimer, followed by six substantial English magnates – John fitz
Geoffrey, Hugh Bigod, William Bardolph, Richard de Grey, Peter de
Montfort and Hugh Despenser, the last three, as we will see, ardent
followers of Simon de Montfort.
Making matters worse, Henry’s twelve had been weakened by the defec-
tion, as he would have seen it, of Richard de Clare. Earl of Gloucester and
Hertford, lord of Glamorgan, with great castles at Clare in Suffolk and
42
Paris, v, 705, 747; Tewkesbury, 165. For the differing stances of Cantilupe and Basset,
see Ambler, Bishops in the Political Community, 118–19. There is a full account of Basset’s
career in Hoskin, EEA, London, xli–li.
43 CR 1256–9, 65. I owe this suggestion to Adrian Jobson.
44 For the circumstances of his marriage, see volume 1, 265–6.
45 Warenne’s quarrel with Peter is illuminated in Spencer, ‘ “A vineyard without a wall” ’,
46
CPR 1247–58, 637; DBM, 100–1, caps. 2–3. It is unclear why Geoffrey de Lusignan was
not one of the king’s twelve.
47 DBM, 100–1, cap. 2.
48 William de Sancta Ermina appeared with them.
49 RCWL, ii, 120–1. Fulk Basset heads the witness lists of all the charters issued between
12 and 20 June.
50 Both these points were made in a baronial manifesto of 1264: DBM, 260–3 cap. 9.
revolution and reform
Henry of Wingham, in place, but they made it clear he was now a chan-
cellor responsible to and controlled by the ruling council. Under the oath
to be taken, the chancellor was to seal nothing ‘on the sole command of
the king’. Instead, everything going out under the seal, other than routine
writs, would need the council’s consent.51 Another version of the oath
required the council’s consent to grants of wardships, escheats and money.
Henry’s distribution of patronage was thus to come specifically under the
council’s control. Indeed, he could do nothing significant without the
council’s consent.
How long was this regime to last? The answer, a chilling one for
Henry, was a full twelve years.52 When the council’s authority was finally
up, Henry would thus be in his sixties, an age reached by only one king
(Henry I) since the Norman Conquest. He was quite likely never to rule
unfettered again.
51 DBM, 102–3, cap. 7; 106–7, cap. 15. Wingham took the oath ‘before the barons of
England’ on 28 June: CR 1256–9, 315–16. Before 1258 he had sometimes been called chan-
cellor but was often just styled the king’s ‘clerk’, see volume 1, 616.
For Henry III’s chancellors and keepers, see Dibben, ‘Chancellor and keeper of the
seal’, 39–51. An important new study of Henry III’s chancery is found in Adam Chambers’
doctoral thesis, ‘Aspects of chancery procedure in the chancery rolls of Henry III’.
Another doctoral thesis by Andrew Kourris is forthcoming.
52 This is clear from the oath taken by the new castellans mentioned below, 14.
53 Maddicott, Origins of the English Parliament, 238–9.
54 In another version they are to be chosen by ‘the community’: DBM, 104–5, cap. 10;
110–11, cap. 21. The council’s personnel were listed both in the chancery and the
exchequer: CR 1256–9, 473–4; TNA E 368/35, m. 4d (image 5659).
h e n ry i i i
55
The twelve consisted of a bishop, Fulk Basset of London (a baron in his own right),
an earl, nine magnates and one knight.
56 In the 1215 Magna Carta only tenants-in-chief were summoned to the assembly with
only greater barons (lay and ecclesiastical) receiving a personal summons, the lesser
tenants-in-chief being summoned generally through the sheriffs. However, as John
Maddicott first showed, many of the lesser tenants-in-chief were of knightly status:
Maddicott, ‘ “An infinite multitude of nobles” ’.
57 For the importance of castles in this period, see Oakes, ‘King’s men without the king’.
58 TNA E 159/ 32. m.1 (image 0003), a special schedule attached to the exchequer’s
deter opposition and justify, if necessary, the use of brute force. Anyone
contravening the oath was to be treated as a mortal enemy. That meant
they could be attacked and killed.60 This went far beyond the oath of 1215.
Then ‘the commune of all the land’ had sworn to support twenty-five
barons in enforcing Magna Carta if the king sought to break it. But the
methods envisaged had simply been the seizure of his lands and castles.
No reference was made to treating opponents as ‘mortal enemies’. ‘The
notion of mortal enmity was pervasive in medieval society.’61 But it was
one thing for it to envenom feuds between individuals, quite another for it
to underpin a national political programme. This was sensationally new.
The extreme violence now envisaged reflected the extreme importance of
the programme and the extreme anxiety about attempts to oppose it. In
1263 the ‘mortal enmity’ clause in the oath was used to justify the violence
beginning the civil war. It was with a shrewd eye that, looking back, the
chronicler Thomas Wykes identified ‘mortal enmity’ as the part of the
Provisions that polluted all the rest.62
60
DBM, 100–1, cap. 4; Bémont, Simon de Montfort, 327–8; Maddicott, Simon de Montfort,
153. For the oaths of 1258, see Hey, ‘Two oaths of the community’.
61 Hyams, Rancor and Reconciliation, 59, and 253–4 for the role of ‘mortal enmity’ in the
period of reform and rebellion. Ch. 8 as a whole asks ‘Was there an enmity culture in
thirteenth-century England?’, with the conclusion that there was.
62 Wykes, 119–20.
63 Paris, v, 697–8.
h e n ry i i i
king with them. They surrounded the castle and demanded that all four
brothers leave the kingdom. At this point Henry at last intervened. Hoping
they would thereby be allowed to stay, he offered to guarantee his brothers’
acceptance of the baronial provisions. The intervention paid more tribute
to his heart than his head. It was foolish to link himself to his brothers’
hopeless cause. In the event, the barons said Aymer and William (with
their larger stake in the country) could stay but only as prisoners until
reform was completed. Guy and Geoffrey de Lusignan were still to leave
immediately. Not surprisingly, allowed to take some of their wealth, the
brothers decided to depart together. Letters giving them a safe conduct
were issued on 6 July. On 18 July they crossed to Boulogne. According to
Matthew Paris, Louis IX refused to allow them to stay in France, having
heard from his queen how they had ‘enormously diffamed and slandered’
her sister. How Eleanor must have rejoiced at their departure. These
events ended any further resistance. John de Warenne had fled with the
Lusignans from Oxford. He now submitted. So did Lord Edward.
64 CPR 1247–58, 639, 664; CR 1256–9, 319; Ridgeway, ‘The Lord Edward and the
sworn to accept the coming reforms, but as he came to see the implica-
tions for himself, he had every reason to change his mind. The baronial
failure to do anything about the Welsh conquest of the Four Cantrefs
provided another motive for doing so.67 Yet Edward’s own resistance soon
fizzled out. On 10 July he issued a letter promising to accept the baronial
reforms. The keepers of his lands and castles were now to be chosen by
the council of fifteen. His appointment of the Lusignans to run Gascony
was cancelled. He was also given four councillors, his chancellor swearing
to seal nothing without their agreement.68 It seemed he was to be just as
much controlled by the regime as was his father.
67 The Welsh dimension is stressed in Burt, Edward I and the Governance of England, 57–8,
77–8.
68 Richardson and Sayles, ‘The Provisions of Oxford’, 320, cap. 26; 321, cap. 30; DBM,
94–5. The councillors were John de Balliol, John de Grey, Stephen Longespée and Roger
of Mold.
69 DBM, 80–1, caps. 4, 6.
70 DBM, 80–1, cap. 4; 90–1. The Petition added that castles guarding ports should be
entrusted to Englishmen given the dangers arising from them being in the hands of
‘others’: DBM, 80–1, cap. 5. The Poitevin, Elyas de Rabayne, was accordingly deprived of
Corfe.
71 CR 1256–9, 223–4, 297. The note itself was routine, all chancery letters in the rolls
speak of their ‘discord’ and how they were eventually reconciled in the
Winchester chapter house. Since this was in July, the reconciliation took
place very much under baronial auspices. Quite probably, egged on by the
barons, Henry had resented the way Edward had placed Gascony under
the Lusignans without his assent. His interference in Edward’s appanage
had always been a source of friction.72 The quarrel may also reflect how
Henry was far readier than his son to bow down before the baronial
regime. Events might have been very different had there been real leader-
ship from the top. Nicholas de Molis, head of the household knights in any
resistance, drew his own conclusions. Although removed from Dover
castle, he agreed to become castellan of Rochester.73
At Runnymede, in the days leading up to the promulgation of
Magna Carta, King John had bargained hard with the barons and
secured significant concessions.74 There is no sign Henry did the same at
Oxford. Indeed, until his futile intervention on behalf of the Lusignans,
he gives no sign of activity at all. Perhaps his interventions were just
brushed aside. Or had he simply given up? According to a baronial
letter to the pope, he ignored bishop-elect Aymer’s pleas to make a stand.
Henry not merely arrived late for the parliament. He also seems, during
its course, to have retired to Woodstock. The Burton annalist says he
was there when the Petition of the Barons was drawn up. We can think of
him perhaps, brooding in the cloisters beside the pools of Everswell (the
retreat close to Woodstock palace), while his fate was decided ten miles
away in the Dominicans’ house in Oxford.75 The London chronicler
Arnold fitzThedmar has Henry accepting the reforms at Oxford ‘unwill-
ingly’, surely, in one mood, the case. Yet Matthew Paris thought he went
along ‘willingly, gratanter’.76 Perhaps the king was frightened by what might
happen if he resisted. He had after all, confronted by the march on
Westminster Hall, thought for a moment he was a prisoner. Perhaps he
remembered the war which had followed his father’s rejection of Magna
Carta. Perhaps he still hoped the reforms would indeed produce the taxa-
tion for Sicily vaguely promised by the barons. At Oxford twenty-four men
were ‘appointed by the community to treat of a tax for the king’. The
72 Winchester, 97. The friction is a major theme in Studd, ‘The Lord Edward and King
Henry III’ and see Ridgeway, ‘King Henry III’s grievances against the council’, 240, cap.
20.
73 DBM, 112–13, cap. 24.
74 Carpenter, Magna Carta, 342–3.
75 Burton, 438. For Henry going to Woodstock, see also Winchester, 97. However, the
great bulk of the population, reach out to the freemen, peasants and
townsmen for whom English was the only language. The French version
also had a purpose. The earls, barons and knights of thirteenth-century
England were bilingual, trilingual if they had some Latin. English they
could use to address the lower orders. It was also gradually intermingling
with French as a language they used amongst themselves. But French
remained the language of business, culture and conversation, hence it was
in French that treatises of estate management were written and unofficial
translations of Magna Carta circulated. In 1258 the regime wanted
nothing unofficial. It was determined to get its message across and hence
provided its own French translation of the Latin text.81 Its authority was
to be known and be upheld by everyone in the realm.
The council did not form a separate executive. Instead, it worked
through the king, issuing letters in his name and authenticating them with
his seal. All the indications are that, in essentials, it took over the govern-
ment of the country. In the chancery rolls between July 1258 and October
1259 over 150 letters were issued on the authority of ‘the council’ or ‘the
magnates who are of the king’s council.’ By contrast, between July 1258
and August 1259, the king authorized but two letters on his own, one letter
with the justiciar, one with another minister and one with the council.82
This picture of an emasculated king is confirmed by a newsletter sent out
to Provence in 1259. ‘The state of England’, the writer declared, ‘is such
that the king has no power of doing anything without the counsel of the
twelve barons’, meaning here clearly the council of fifteen. ‘These take
counsel and deliberate without the king on whatever pleases them on
affairs either side of the sea, saving however on some great matters where
they wish to honour the king or where it is necessary to have the consent
of the king and his son, Lord Edward.’83
Since the council worked through the king, its members or some of
them needed to be at court. This was easier to achieve because Henry’s
itinerary for much of 1258–9 had the same ‘home counties’ aspect as
before the revolution. Indeed, in 1259, prior to leaving for France in
November, he spent 168 days at Westminster. At the time of the parlia-
ments, probably nearly all the fifteen came together. The great proclama-
on the authority of the chancellor who, as we have seen, was controlled by the regime.
83 The letter is now preserved in the Archives des Bouches-du-Rhône in Marseilles. It is
84
Hershey, ‘Success or failure?’, 83–4.
85
CPR 1247–58, 1; Paris, v, 719–20. For his career, see Jobson, ‘John of Crakehall’.
86 DBM, 107, cap. 14; 260–1, cap. 8, and see below, 36.
87 CLR 1251–60, 475.
88 DBM, 236–9, cap. 28.
89 The classic study of the wardrobe under Henry III remains that in Tout, Chapters, i,
ch. vi. Its accounts at the exchequer have now been edited for the Pipe Roll Society by
Benjamin Wild: Wild, WA.
90 Wild, WA, cxxxi, 87, 102; Tout, Chapters, i, 298–9.
h e n ry i i i
91 DBM, 104–7, cap. 11; CR 1256–9, 243. While the stewards William de Grey and the
Savoyard Imbert Pugeys, remained in post after the revolution, Robert Walerand (although
still employed by the new regime) was rarely at court. Giles was the son of the distinguished
knight Richard de Argentan, sometime steward of the royal household. The family held the
manor of Great Wymondley in Hertfordshire by the service of bearing a silver cup at coro-
nations. Three silver cups were proudly displayed on their coat of arms: Rolls of Arms, Henry
III, 43. Active from the 1230s, Giles failed to follow his father at court. For his grievance over
not recovering the manors of Lilley and Willian, next door to Great Wymondley, see CRR,
xv, no. 1758; CChR 1226–57, 276; volume 1, 126, 131; CIM, nos. 707, 711. For a biography, see
Ridgeway, ‘Sir Giles d’Argentine’.
92 Rabayne had held Corfe and Rochefort, Colchester: Ray, ‘Alien courtiers of thir-
teenth-century England’, ch. 8; Ridgeway, ‘The politics of the English royal court’,
237, 299–300; Ridgeway, ‘Dorset in the period of baronial reform’, 23; and volume 1,
556–7.
93 For the argument that the knights were elected locally, hence the delay before they
and others, assembled in juries from the hundreds into which counties
were divided.94 The returns for one hundred (Loes in Suffolk) survive.95
This change too was sensible. While plaintiffs could bring cases direct to
Bigod, as many did, it was above all through the evidence of the hundredal
juries, receiving both individual and communal complaints, that the
malpractices of officials would be brought to light.
While awaiting the returns of the knights, Bigod decided to show his
face in the counties. In late July, leaving the king at Westminster, he jour-
neyed to Northampton, where the sheriffs had earned an evil reputation.96
Then, in August and September, this time with the king, he travelled as far
north as Nottingham and Lincoln. The great majority of the cases coming
before him were routine assizes, but he also heard complaints from a wide
variety of people.97 Those accused (not always successfully) included the
bishop of London, the sheriffs of Surrey and Lincoln, two sheriffs of
Northampton and the bailiffs both of William de Sancta Ermina and the
earl of Gloucester.98 While Bigod and the king were at Nottingham, the
poor men of Grimsby complained about the wrongs they had suffered at
the hands of richer merchants. The result was the immediate dispatch of
Bigod’s colleague, the judge Gilbert of Preston, to the town. There he
heard the complaints and secured agreement to a series of reforms. In
early November these were confirmed by the king and council in a letter
authorized by ‘Hugh Bigod, justiciar of England’.99
At the Westminster parliament in October 1258, knights from at least
fifteen counties came with the results of their investigations.100 By this time
there was considerable impatience with the pace of local reform. Had the
knights been working on just another inquiry, like so many in the past,
from which nothing would come? Was the justiciar ever going to tour the
94 DBM, 114–15. The writ setting up the four knights just said they were to inquire
throughout their counties by the oaths of law-worthy men. It is evident from Bigod’s rolls
that the questions were put to juries from each hundred: SESK, p. 1, and no. 54, and
SERHB, ii, p. 43.
95 TNA SC 5/9/5/9. The roll, carefully transcribed by E.F. Jacob, is printed in full in his
Studies, 337–44. I thank Paul Dryburgh for locating the modern reference to the roll at
TNA.
96 In ch. 3 I give a full account of the evidence from the eyres of Hugh Bigod and his
knight Stephen de Chenduit, the bailiffs of Southampton, the men of Walthamstow and
Chingford, ‘many men of the city of London’, a widow from the king’s manor of
Havering, a London widow, a ‘poor’ widow from Ketton in Rutland and the villein
sokeman on the king’s manor of Brill in Buckinghamshire. In Bigod’s first roll (no longer
complete), recording cases between June and September with some more in late December,
he heard 238 civil pleas and 46 complaints: Hershey, ‘Success or failure?’, 86–7.
98 SERHB, i, nos. 5, 17, 23, 28, 33, 41, 67, 98, 111, 161, 166, 308, 365.
99 SERHB, i, nos. 373–9; CChR 1257–1300, 14–16. For the whole episode, see Hershey,
‘Baronial reform, the justiciar’s court and commercial legislation’, and SERHB, i, pp. xlix–lvii.
100 CR 1256–9, 332–3; Treharne, Baronial Plan, 115–16.
h e n ry i i i
kingdom to hear the cases they had recorded? So far, he had only heard
complaints from individuals.101
Faced with this discontent, on 18 October the council, in the king’s
name, issued a great proclamation, one known by historians as the
Ordinance of the Sheriffs. Again the letter was written in three languages,
Latin, French and English, and was to be read in the county courts. Once
again the regime was determined to get its message across. The proclama-
tion announced the king’s wish that all wrongs should indeed be reported
to the four knights.102 If they could not be redressed as fast as the king
wished, that should cause no surprise (evidently it had). Things had gone
wrong for so long that they could not speedily be put right. But there was
hope. The justiciar and ‘other good men’ would be coming to give redress.
This time something more was done. In November and December,
Hugh Bigod went to Bermondsey to hear pleas for Surrey; in January 1259
he was at Canterbury hearing those for Kent. Although assizes still came
before him, they were outnumbered by the cases arising from the testimony
of the four knights and the hundredal juries. There were 91 of the former
and 117 of the latter. So at last the work of the knights was bearing fruit. At
the same time Bigod continued to hear individual complaints. Of these
there were 113. In both counties, sheriffs and other royal officials were
targeted. Targeted too were the officials of magnates, including those of
Aymer, Guy and Geoffrey de Lusignan, Boniface and Peter of Savoy, the
earl of Gloucester, William de Say and Richard de Grey. The punishments
meted out were severe, indeed too severe in the view of the London
alderman and chronicler Arnold fitzThedmar. In Surrey, Bigod ‘not only
amerced many bailiffs, but imprisoned them, clerk and lay; and from some
he exacted fines of 20 marks, from some 40 marks and more, and many for
small offences he burdened beyond measure’.103 There was in all this a
striking difference between Bigod’s eyre and the visitations before 1258. In
Surrey and Kent, officials who had sailed unscathed through the eyre of
1255 were now punished while jurors silent then about abuses now opened
their mouths.104 Above all, for the first time, thanks to the action by querela,
plaintiffs secured compensation for their sufferings.
101 Paris says, however, that the demands of the harvest reduced the number of
inquiries.
103 FitzThedmar, 39 (Stone, FitzThedmar, no. 717).
104 For punishments and the opening of mouths, see below, 139, 144.
revolution and reform
nial courts as well as in the court coram rege, the courts of the exchequer
and the justices in eyre.105 What was completely new was the sheer volume
of querelae coming before the justiciar. His court had been opened up to
complainants in a way not seen before. Whereas before the government
had given no encouragement to complaints, now through the inquiries of
the knights and Bigod’s promised arrival, it was positively inviting them.
Why then did people accept the invitation? What explains the utility and
popularity of the procedure? The answer lies in four characteristics.
First, the subject matter of the complaint. Here there were restrictions.
It was not possible to proceed by querela in matters concerning right and
possession. These needed to be pleaded by writ according to the forms of
the common law.106 But this did little to detract from the value of the querela.
The common law assizes worked well, especially novel disseisin with its
speedy remedy for those deprived of free tenements ‘unjustly and without
judgement’. Many such cases came before Hugh Bigod. Complaints, by
contrast, were concerned ‘with trespasses and injuries, de transgressionibus et
iniuriis’, as it was put during the Oxford parliament.107 What was meant
here is clear from the complaints themselves. They covered such matters as
violence to person, false imprisonment and, again and again, seizure of
crops and farm animals, often by way of distraint. In many cases such
actions were described as taking place ‘by force of arms in breach of the
king’s peace’, and these words were to become standard in later actions of
trespass. But, a blessing of the eyres, Bigod made no stand on forms and
heard many cases where such words were not employed.108 Indeed, the
trespasses and injuries often covered various forms of extortion, or alleged
extortion, where no actual violence had taken place.109
Second, the targets. From the word go, complaints were expected against
the sheriffs and bailiffs of the king. During the course of 1259 the regime
made clear that magnates and their officials could be aimed at too. It was
local officials, royal and seigneurial, who more than anyone else were guilty
of the excesses and injuries outlined above. A speedy and effective means
of redress was desperately needed and the action by querela provided it.
That was partly, a third point, thanks to the ease of the procedure.
Many of the abuses complained about on the eyres could have been
105
For discussion of the origin and processes of procedure by querela, see Richardson and
Sayles’ introduction to SCWR; Jacob, Studies, 65–70; Hershey, ‘Justice and bureaucracy’,
843–51, and SERHB, i, pp. xxvi–vii. For examples in manorial and honourial courts, see
SPMC, 7, 21, 53, 56, 65–6.
106 For the distinction, see SCWR, 125; SERHB, ii, nos. 508–9.
107 DBM, 98–9, cap. 1; and 160–3, caps. 2, 7.
108 A point made in Hershey, ‘Justice and bureaucracy’, 844–5.
109 The government itself did not stick to ‘de transgressionibus et iniuriis’. It also referred to
‘les torz’ (wrongs) and to complaints ‘de omnimodis excessibus’ and ‘de aliquo gravamine’: DBM,
112–15, 118–19, 162–3, cap. 7. Occasionally Bigod allowed property to be recovered as a
by-product of a querela action, for example, SCWR, 127–8.
h e n ry i i i
110 For the problems of proceeding by writ and the advantages of the querela, see
Hershey, ‘Justice and bureaucracy’.
111 The relationship between individual plaints and the testimony of the hundredal
jurors in the great inquiry of 1274/5 is a theme in Scales, ‘The Cambridgeshire ragman
rolls’.
112 For procedure by bill, see Hershey, ‘The earliest bill in eyre’, and his introduction to
SESK, lxxxii–v. For an inconclusive discussion as to the balance between oral and written
plaints, see Richardson and Sayles, SCWR, lvii–lxviii. For whether plaintiffs spoke through
a lawyer, a ‘narrator’, see Hershey, ‘Justice and bureaucracy’, 845.
113 DBM, 98–9, cap. 1.
114 For a striking example, SESK, no. 103. For the valuation of losses and injuries, with a
view to compensation, in the French enquêtes procedure, see Dejoux, ‘Valeur des choses’.
The term ‘damages’, however, hardly appears.
revolution and reform
There was also here a contrast between Hugh Bigod’s eyre and
the judicial eyres before 1258. On the latter, hundredal jurors answered a
whole series of questions about events since the last eyre. Their answers,
evidently gathered from individual complainants, sometimes covered
the malpractices of officials. But while the culprits might be punished, the
victims gained no redress. On the 1255 Surrey eyre, a jury thus accused
the bailiff, Henry Gargat, of seizing a quarter of corn worth 6s 6d
from one Peter de Bydon. But it was not till Bigod’s eyre that Bydon
received half a mark in compensation.115 In another case, before the
Sussex eyre of 1255, a hundredal jury accused Peter of Savoy’s steward of
falsely imprisoning one Geoffrey of Rottingdean. The bailiff was convicted
and amerced. But again Geoffrey himself got nothing. It was only
post-1258, when he brought a querela, that he at last secured compensation.
As the judgement stated, while the steward (through the amercement in
1255) had satisfied the king for his trespass, ‘to Geoffrey who suffered
the trespass, he has made no emends’.116 The same could be said of nearly
all the cases of abuse coming before the eyres before 1258. The contrast
with Hugh Bigod’s eyre is again total. In querela actions in Surrey and
Kent alone, he issued over sixty orders for the restoration of property
and or the payment of damages. Showing that justice was speedily
done, these awards are the best testimony to the utility and success of
his eyres.
Why did the reformers open up the querela procedure in this novel and
dramatic way? They were certainly making a practical response to the
trespasses, injuries and extortions suffered at the hands of local officials.
They were also influenced by the example of King Louis and the teach-
ings of leading churchmen. Of that more later.117 Behind the work of the
eyres one senses above all the care and zeal of Bigod himself. As well as
targeting notorious cases of abuse and punishing severely both royal and
baronial officials, he asked probing questions of defendants, taxed person-
ally the damages of even the poorest litigants and swept aside objections
to his authority from those, like the Londoners, the abbot of St Albans and
Dunstable priory, claiming liberties and exemptions.118 The justice meted
out on the eyre seems even handed, with convictions balancing acquittals.
The Poitevin, Elyas de Rabayn, before his expulsion from the kingdom,
actually won two cases. The queen’s steward, Matthias Bezill, on the other
hand, although still constable of Gloucester, was convicted of seizing land
115
TNA JUST 1/872, m. 32 (image 9145); SESK, no. 98.
116 TNA JUST 1/537, m. 1 (image 3146). The case came before Hugh Bigod’s successor
as justiciar, Hugh Despenser.
117 See below, 62–3.
118 His work is anlaysed more fully in ch. 3. For objections, see FitzThedmar, 39–40
119
Hershey, ‘Success or failure?’, 73; SERHB, i, nos. 300, 339, 355; CR 1256–9, 339, 352.
120
SERHB, i, nos. 161, 171.
121 We only have Matthew Paris’s summary of the 1236 oath: Paris, iii, 363. It bound the
sheriff not to accept gifts by which justice might be corrupted, so nothing in land and only
a moderate amount of food and drink. Paris says it soon had no effect: Paris, HA, ii, 389.
For other references to oaths see CR 1251–3, 385 (a reference I owe to Richard Cassidy);
and see CFR 1235–6, no. 75. For a full discussion of oaths of office in the long thirteenth
century, see Lachaud, L’éthique du pouvoir au Moyen Âge, 479–97.
122 They were only to stay at religious houses with incomes of at least 100 marks a year.
revolution and reform
would have no need to take anything from anyone else. At the same time,
the council began to fulfil its promise to appoint sheriffs who were substan-
tial local knights. Between 23 October and 3 November 1258 nineteen
knights were appointed to twenty-eight counties. In seventeen cases they
came from the panels of knights elected in each county to investigate
abuses.123 All of them were made to swear the new oath.124 The council
also abolished the increments above the county farms demanded from
the previous sheriffs. Instead, in a return to the arrangements in 1236, the
sheriffs were made ‘custodians’ who provided detailed lists of all the
revenue from which had come the farm and the increments. They were
now to pay all of this into the exchequer, with the implication that in
return they would receive expenses.125
123
Treharne, Baronial Plan, 121–2; Ridgeway, ‘Mid thirteenth-century reformers and the
localities’, 67, and between 63 and 71, where there is a full discussion of the new sheriffs.
124 The swearing of the oath is stated specifically in respect of the new sheriff of Devon:
TNA E 159/32, m. 5d (image 0096). The exchequer made a record of the oath: TNA E
159/32, m. 2 (image 0004).
125 Cassidy, ‘Bad sheriffs, custodial sheriffs’, 41–9.
126 DBM, 130–7.
h e n ry i i i
In the proclamation, the council and the twelve also looked to the future
and promised to accept whatever legislation was promulgated by November
1259 with respect to suit (meaning attendance) at private courts. In the
event, this legislation was to form another major plank in the programme
of reform. It had begun life with the Petition of the Barons at the Oxford
parliament and had then been developed in daily meetings at the New
Temple in the summer of 1258. More work was done, with some input from
the king’s judges, at the parliaments of October 1258 and February 1259.
Account was probably taken of the grievances revealed by the inquiry of
four knights and the complaints before Hugh Bigod. In March 1259, after
the parliament was over, a draft of the legislation (although only a draft) was
proclaimed at the New Temple.127 Running to twenty-five chapters, it
sought to remedy the abuses of the sheriffs and the justices in eyre. It also
in its first thirteen chapters dealt with the issue of suit of court. Here the
main aim was to provide a remedy for tenants who, against previous
custom, had been forced to do suit ‘by distraint and power of great
nobles’.128
The leaders of the regime, it seemed, were purging themselves in the
fire of reform. Yet some were all too keen to turn down the heat. The
legislation, long in gestation, had been proclaimed but only in draft form.
It was not yet the law of the land. There was also a delay when it came to
publishing the Ordinances of the Magnates. On 22 February, Simon de
Montfort and Richard de Clare had sealed them on behalf of the council.
But then they had lain hidden. Only on 24 March were they embodied in
a royal proclamation and sent round the country with orders they be read
in the county and hundred courts.
Resistance was understandable. In hearing cases on his Surrey and
Kent eyres against Archbishop Boniface, Peter of Savoy, Richard de Clare
and Richard de Grey, Hugh Bigod was allowing attacks on members of
the ruling council. All this was a huge contrast to ‘1215’, when the local
inquiries commissioned by Magna Carta were concerned simply with the
abuses of royal officials. At the February 1259 parliament itself, Peter of
Savoy had to call in Domesday Book to prove his peasants at Witley in
Surrey were villeins and thus could bring no action against him. What on
earth was happening when the queen’s uncle, an international statesman,
was being put to this trouble by his serfs? Why had Hugh Bigod even
agreed to hear such a case? The world was turning upside down.129
Richard de Clare was especially vulnerable to the ongoing complaints and
proposed legislation given his uniquely large network of private courts and
127 DBM, 122–31. For the evolution of the legislation, see Brand, Kings, Barons, and
Justices’, 20–33.
128 DBM, 124–5, cap. 4.
129 SESK, no. 105. The complaint was about how Peter had raised the rent.
revolution and reform
130
Maddicott, Simon de Montfort, 178.
131
Paris, v, 744–5; Maddicott, Simon de Montfort, 180–1; DBM, 134–5. On 20 February
1259, Clare had secured a concession protecting the liberties of the jurisdictional area (the
‘lowy’) around Tonbridge castle: CPR 1258–66, 49–50. In the articles of the nationwide
eyre commissioned in November 1259, justice was to be done to those complaining of
private officials, but only if the lord had failed to mete it out: DBM, 162–3, cap. 7. This too
sounds like Clare’s work. According to the Ordinances of the Magnates, if the lord did
redress the grievance in his court, he was entitled to any amercement imposed.
132 See below, 76.
133 DBM, 150–1, cap. 7.
h e n ry i i i
Pagnell, Huntingdon, Cambridge and Ware.134 But over half the counties
had not seen him at all. At the parliament, therefore, there was a protest.
According to the well-informed Burton abbey annalist, a body described
as ‘the community of the bachelery of England’, probably composed of
knights at the parliament, complained to Lord Edward, Richard de Clare
and other councillors that the barons had so far looked after themselves
and done nothing for ‘the utility of the republic’.135 Edward at once
declared that, although he had taken his initial oath unwillingly, he would
now stand by the community to the death and force the barons to fulfil
their promises. Under this pressure, the barons at last promulgated the
legislation, published in draft form back in March, dealing with attend-
ance at their courts, as well as the abuses of the sheriffs and the justices in
eyre. Perhaps the legislation would have been promulgated anyway, but
given all the delays, the community of the bachelery had reason for
thinking otherwise.136
The Provisions of Westminster, as they are called by historians, were
now given great publicity. On 24 October the king had them read in
Westminster Hall before earls, barons and ‘innumerable people’, no quick
process as they have twenty-four separate chapters, some lengthy.137 At last
the church too came behind the reforms. The bishops had been conspicu-
ously absent from the 1258 Oxford parliament, and had pronounced no
sentence of excommunication against those who opposed the revolu-
tionary reforms. The Provisions of Westminster, provisions the king might
have issued anyway of his own volition, were different. After they were
proclaimed in Westminster Hall, Archbishop Boniface and the bishops in
full pontificals excommunicated all who contravened them.138
134 No records survive of Bigod, on these visitations, hearing, in any consistent way, the
complaints brought to light by the four knights and the hundredal jurors, but it is possible
some of his plea rolls are missing. For discussion by Hershey, see SESK, xxi–ii; SERHB, i,
pp. xv, lvii; Jacob, Studies, 64–5.
135 For further discussion of this episode, see below, 48.
136 For the detail of the legislation, see below, 158–9. It is comprehensively analysed in
140
In fact, the involvement of the councillors and the twelve did not work as planned:
Crook, Records of the General Eyre, 189–91.
141 DBM, 158–65; CR 1256–9, 141–4; Jacob, Studies, 104–5. The eyre, however, was never
the oath. For the new sheriffs, see Ridgeway, ‘Mid thirteenth-century reformers and the
localities’, 71–4.
143 Ridgeway, ‘Mid thirteenth-century reformers and the localities’, 66–7.
144 There were also schemes, apparently stillborn, to have a standing committee of four
knights in each county to monitor the activities of the sheriff and hear everyone’s
complaints between eyres.
h e n ry i i i
If the reformers thus fulfilled their pledge to appoint sheriffs who were
county knights, they were unforthcoming when it came to conceding them
expenses. The granting of expenses or salaries to office-holders had been
a key feature of the reforms, one designed to ensure the probity of officials
by removing the need to accept bribes and other illicit payments. Both
Hugh Bigod and the treasurer of the exchequer, John of Crakehall, had
been given salaries, as we have seen. Salaries in place before 1258 had also
continued for the king’s judges, the justices of the Jews and various house-
hold officials.145 That the sheriffs should receive expenses had been stated
specifically in the Ordinance of October 1258. Yet while expenses were
ultimately claimed by around half a dozen sheriffs, none were actually
conceded during the lifetime of the regime.146 Here, however, the
reformers had some excuse. The new sheriffs had accounted not for fixed
increments above the ancient farms, but for all the issues they received, the
amount obtained above the farms being described as ‘profit’.147 In the
event the profits accounted for in 1258–9 were less than the previous incre-
ments to the tune of around £1,500. The new sheriffs were also less
successful in actually raising the money.148 The contrast reflected the
burdens imposed on the counties before 1258 and the way they had now
been lightened. But the government was entitled to suspect that, in the
difference between the old increments and the new profits, there was
money the sheriffs were keeping for themselves. They were in effect taking
their own expenses.
For the future, the government decided to abandon the idea of expenses
altogether and with it the sheriffs accounting for variable profits. Instead,
when the new sheriffs were appointed in 1259, the system of farms and
fixed increments was reinstated. This was administratively far easier to
run.149 It was also less of a retreat from reform than it might seem, for the
new increments were set at a level some £600 lower than those in force
before 1258. In Norfolk–Suffolk (a joint sheriffdom), the amount demanded
went down from 400 marks to 300; in Yorkshire from 470 marks to 350; in
Devonshire from 130 marks to 100. The sheriffs of Lincolnshire and
Hampshire were ‘given hope’ by Hugh Bigod that their increments might
be further reduced if they served the king well and could not find the
145
CLR 1251–60, 441–6, 457, 461, 465, 478.
146
For claims, see TNA E 368/35, mm. 18d, 20d–21, 24, 27–9. Eventually, between 1262
and 1273, nine sheriffs did succeed in getting expenses. See Collingwood, ‘Royal finance’,
127–37, and Cassidy ‘Fulk Peyforer’s wages’. Richard Cassidy has also sent me a detailed
table on the subject.
147 The issues here were those contributing before to the farm and increment (see below,
ment’, 68.
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