Aetatem habet; ipse de se loquatur.
The recognition of Henry’s partial coming of age (if such a phrase may be allowed) in December, 1223, re-introduced into English politics and into the government of England a factor which had been absent from them for seven years, but which until John’s death had always been, and was again to be for many generations, a factor of great, perhaps we should rather say of the very greatest importance: the character and will of the King. Thenceforth neither the Council as a body, nor any member of it, could do any act in the King’s name without consulting him and obtaining his sanction; nor could they, if the King desired anything to be done which lay within the limits of his regal powers as defined in October, 1223, prevent him from doing it, except by persuading him to give up his desire in deference to their advice. The circumstances by which such abnormal authority had become connected with the justiciarship had ceased to exist; that office was once more reduced within its proper limits; and if Hubert now aspired to rule England in Henry’s name, the only way in which he could do so was by acquiring and keeping complete personal ascendency over Henry himself. If, however, the papal mandates which brought about this altered condition of things had really been procured by Peter des Roches, in the hope that when Hubert’s official importance was thus diminished he himself might regain the foremost place in his old pupil’s confidence and become the chief adviser of the Crown in Hubert’s stead, he was doomed to wait a long time for the fulfilment of his hope. Until Henry’s final coming of age and for many years after, so far as the King’s policy was dictated by any one, it was dictated by Hubert de Burgh. But even during the years which were still to elapse before Henry attained his complete majority, Hubert’s dictatorship was very far from absolute. In October, 1223, the King was sixteen years old; he was universally esteemed an intelligent, serious-minded lad; and he had been carefully educated. In later life he did not prove a man of lofty mental capacity or great force of character; but he did prove to possess a will of his own, though it was too often a fitful and a wayward will—precisely the kind of will which may be only too easily influenced, but never entirely directed or controlled, by another person. If Henry’s will, at the opening of his seventeenth year and in the first flush of his newly acquired regal independence, had been so utterly dormant as to move only at Hubert’s impulsion, he would indeed have been a marvellously degenerate descendant of his Angevin and Norman ancestors. For such an unnatural supposition there is no ground whatever. There is every reason to believe that from December, 1223, onwards Henry, within the limits defined in October, and with the assistance of his Council, although relying mainly on the advice of one member of it, actually governed as well as reigned.
On the breaking up of the council in London the Earl of Chester and his party went to Northampton to concert their plans and muster their forces pending the expiration of the “truce” at the octave of S. Hilary. They removed to Leicester on hearing that the King was coming to hold his Christmas court at Northampton.[941] Sumptuous preparations were made for the festival; the majority of the magnates, as well as the Primate and other bishops, rallied round the King, and there came together “so many earls and barons and knights in arms that neither in the days of the King’s father, nor since, was such a festival remembered to have been celebrated in England.”[942] On the day after Christmas {26 Dec.} the Archbishop and his suffragans put on their albs, lighted their candles, and excommunicated all “disturbers of the King, the realm, and the Church, and invaders of ecclesiastical property.”[943] Stephen then sent a message to the discontented barons at Leicester, bidding them come to speak with the King, and warning them that a refusal would place them within the scope of the excommunication just published {26–28 Dec.}. Alarmed by this threat, and conscious of the inferiority of their forces, they obeyed the summons.[944] They were brought into the presence of the King, the Primate, and some of the bishops, and the Pope’s order for the restitution of the King’s property was exhibited to them there. Then the King himself called upon them all to obey it by immediately surrendering the castles and other wardenships which they held for him. For a while they hesitated whether to yield or appeal to the Pope; but another word of warning from the Archbishop decided them, and they agreed to do what was required of them, on condition that the Justiciar and all other holders of royal property should at once do likewise. Stephen answered eagerly, “It is meet that there be such a distribution of castles as shall make all parties equal without scandal.”[945] On this a universal surrender was made in legal form by the delivery of a glove or a hat from every individual both of Chester’s party and of Hubert’s, the two leaders themselves included.[946]
Next day (30th December) new custodians were appointed to twenty-five royal castles. The former castellans thus displaced were thirteen in number. One of them had, before the general surrender, resigned on account of ill-health. Of the remaining twelve, five had been concerned in the recent attempt to oust the Justiciar—Ranulf of Chester, William de Cantelupe, Engelard de Cigogné, Brian de Lisle, and Falkes; the other seven were either neutral, or distinctly of the opposite party—Ralf de Gernon, John Russell, Stephen de Sedgrave, William Brewer, the Bishop of Norwich, the Earl of Salisbury, and the Justiciar himself. Out of the seven royal castles which Hubert had in his charge the only one not transferred to other keeping was the Tower of London, of which the custody was traditionally attached to the justiciarship.[947] On 7th January {1224} orders were given for the transfer of three more castles—Winchester, Porchester, and Southampton, all in the custody of Bishop Peter; and on 2nd February the lands of the young heir to the earldom of Devon, and the castles which formed part of them, were committed to a new warden in place of the boy’s stepfather, Falkes.[948] The actual displacement of castellans consequent on the surrender of 29th December, 1223, seems to have ended here. By that surrender several royal castles which make no appearance in the Rolls at this time must have been, like the others, placed legally in the King’s hands; but he seems to have neither appointed new wardens to them, nor re-committed them to their existing wardens; these latter were simply left in possession, as they had originally been appointed, during the King’s pleasure. Even members of the party opposed to Hubert were in this informal way suffered to retain some of their wardenships; Falkes lost—at that moment—only three of the many royal castles which he held;[949] Gloucester, which though assigned to Hubert by Ralf Musard under compulsion in the autumn of 1223 had never passed actually into Hubert’s custody, was not taken from Ralf till November, 1225.[950] On the other hand, although only five sheriffs were displaced, their displacement involved the transfer of thirteen shires to other hands, and four of the five men were opponents of Hubert; the fifth, John Russell, was merely removed from Somerset to the joint sheriffdom of Leicestershire and Warwickshire, taken from William de Cantelupe. On the same day—30th December, 1223—the Earl of Chester lost the shrievalties of Lancashire, Shropshire, and Staffordshire, and Falkes lost two out of his seven shires; on 18th January {1224} he was deprived of four more, Rutland alone being left to him; and in the interval, on 7th January, Bishop Peter was deprived of the sheriffdom of Hampshire. Considering the recent political alliance between Chester, Cantelupe, and Falkes, and the geographical relation to one another (and also, in the case of Chester’s shires, to his own Palatine county and to the Welsh border) of the shires thus taken from them, their dispossession was a reasonable precaution. Bishop Peter’s deprivation of his sheriffdom and wardenships may have been likewise dictated by prudence or suspicion; but suspicion, if it existed, was veiled beneath an appearance of courtesy; it was not till a week after the letters had been issued for the displacement of the other sheriffs and castellans that he was called upon to hand over Hampshire and its castles to a brother bishop, Richard of Salisbury.
Fifteen of the other twenty-five redistributed castles were committed to prelates {1223}. Bristol was transferred to its diocesan bishop, Jocelyn of Bath, from Bishop Pandulf of Norwich; the other fourteen had been in the charge of laymen. Jocelyn of Bath was also entrusted with one of these castles, Sherborne; eleven were committed to the bishops (in one case the archbishop) of the dioceses in which they respectively stood; the other two—Windsor and Odiham—to Archbishop Stephen.[951] These appointments, all made on 30th December, 1223, were evidently not meant to be of long duration; their object was to give the King and his advisers time for considering more fully how best to dispose of the castles, of which the greater number would meanwhile be in the keeping of guardians whose neutral position afforded the deprived castellans no ground for jealousy or suspicion. The arrangement seems however to have worked so well that very little modification of it was found necessary for several years. Its author was probably the Archbishop of Canterbury. Throughout the proceedings at Northampton he seems to have acted as spokesman on the King’s side; as head of the commission charged with the execution of the papal mandate on which those proceedings were based, he was most likely entrusted by Henry with the conduct of them. Falkes says that immediately after the surrender “the Archbishop, distributing the castles by word of mouth, deprived all the barons alike of their possessions.” The letters patent issued next day were no doubt drawn up according to this verbal distribution; but, as we have seen, the actual results were far less sweeping than the words of Falkes imply. A charge of unfair dealing which is brought by Falkes and by another writer of the time against the King and his advisers on this occasion has met with a more ready acceptance than, perhaps, it deserved. “While,” says Falkes, “the Earl of Chester and his friends made a real bodily restitution of their castles, the Justiciar and his party held theirs as before.”[952] “When the castles were surrendered,” says Ralf of Coggeshall, “the King gave back to Hubert his wardenships, the other castellans being deprived of theirs.”[953] The evidence of the Rolls on this point is unfortunately very meagre and incomplete; they contain scarcely any information about the royal castles during the next eight years and more. We find, however, in the list of castles held by Hubert at his fall in 1232 only four out of the seven which he had held in 1223: the Tower, Dover, Rochester, and Canterbury.[954] The first seems never to have been taken from him.[955] Rochester was re-committed to him on 26th March, 1225,[956] and Dover not much later, perhaps even earlier.[957] The delivery of Canterbury to the Archbishop may never have been enforced; but it is equally possible that Hubert may not have regained the custody of this castle till after Stephen’s death, in 1228.[958] This evidence, though not sufficient to determine precisely how much of truth or of error is contained either in Falkes’s assertion or in Ralf’s, does suffice to show that neither the baron’s version of the matter nor the chronicler’s is altogether exact.
Some at least of the deprived castellans, however, who had probably hoped for speedy re-instatement, were disappointed at not getting it,[959] and not less disappointed at the failure of the attempt to oust Hubert from the justiciarship. The nobler spirits among the malcontents seem to have fallen back, almost immediately after the surrender at Northampton, upon a more pacific and legitimate expedient for curbing his masterfulness and guarding themselves against the danger of government by “unjust laws.” On the octave of Epiphany, when the court reassembled in London, the King “was requested by the Archbishop of Canterbury and other magnates to confirm the liberties and free customs for which war had been waged against his father.”[960] The King’s quasi-majority afforded an obvious occasion for such a request. The Great Charter had been twice renewed in his name, but at a time when he was too young to understand the responsibilities to which it pledged him. Now that he was recognized as “a man in wisdom and understanding,” personally answerable for “the disposition of his realm,” he might fairly be asked to grant a new confirmation of the Charter, which those who asked for it doubtless hoped would be an end of all strife. It was only natural that on this matter Stephen de Langton should be spokesman; and he spoke urgently, pleading that the King “could not evade doing this, since at the departure of Louis he and all the nobility of the realm with him had sworn that they would all observe, and cause to be observed by all others, the liberties written down aforetime.” William Brewer took upon himself to answer for the King: “The liberties which ye ask for ought rightly not to be observed, because they were extorted by violence.” “William,” exclaimed the Archbishop, “if you loved the King, you would not thus stand in the way of the peace of his realm.” Then, says the chronicler, “the King, seeing the Archbishop moved to anger, said: ‘These liberties we have all sworn, and what we have sworn we are all bound to observe.’”[961]
With a boy’s simplicity the young King had unconsciously passed judgement on the demand which had just been made to him and on the repeated demands for confirmation of the Charters which resound through the history of the next seventy years. He had sworn to maintain the liberties which he was asked to confirm; he was bound by his oath; no amount of repetitions could make that oath any more binding than it was already, and no amount of confirmations could really give any additional security for its observance. But behind the question of confirmation lay, probably, a question of definition. One article, at least, of the Charter as republished in 1217 left a wide field open for contention: the forty-sixth article, which reserved to all the King’s subjects “the liberties and free customs which they formerly had.” This clause had replaced the one in the Charter of 1216 which reserved for future consideration certain important articles in the Great Charter of 1215.[962] It is probable that what Stephen and the magnates with whom he was acting—whoever these may have been—really wanted was a revision of the Charter, to include the substitution of some definite provisions on these reserved points for the vague saving clause of 1217. If so, William Brewer’s attitude must have shewn them that the cleavage of political opinion within the royal Council was too sharp for agreement on the subject to be possible at that moment. For the observance of the Charter as it stood they had the word of the King, and there was no reason to expect that the King would be worse than his word.[963]
Still Chester and his friends persevered in their efforts to undermine the position of the Justiciar; and some of them were equally desirous of undermining that of the Primate. These now despatched two messengers to Rome, ostensibly to report to the Pope on the state of affairs in England. The Archbishop, suspecting mischief, compelled these envoys before they sailed to swear to him and some of his suffragans that they “would attempt nothing prejudicial to the King and the realm”—the actual meaning of the oath being, they were given to understand, that they were not to ask for a legate.[964] This, however, was precisely what they did. Urged one way by their entreaties and another by Stephen’s protests and his assurances that no legatine intervention was needed to preserve peace in the land, Honorius at last decided to send not a legate, but merely commissioners; further tidings from England induced him to abandon even this project.[965] At a council in London on 21st–23rd April,[966] the Archbishop with tears implored the barons to agree together in peace for the public good.[967] Chester and all others who had been at strife with the Justiciar yielded to this appeal; the kiss of peace was given and accepted on both sides, and the King, “willing to forget past injuries,” received into his peace and favour all who had offended against him, “hoping,” as he wrote to the Pope, “to receive from all and singular such effectual counsel and aid as they in their necessities are entitled to expect from us.”[968]
There was urgent need of peace at home; for strife was raging in Ireland, and grave danger was hanging over Poitou. Geoffrey de Marsh had, as we have seen, formally resigned the Justiciarship of the Irish March in October, 1221;[969] but he had contrived to hamper his successor, Archbishop Henry of Dublin, by retaining some at least of the rolls and other records necessary for the Justiciar’s official work in his own hands till July, 1222, if not later still.[970] Some months before this the return of Hugh de Lacy gave token of trouble to come. In John’s reign Hugh had been Earl of Ulster, and his brother Walter Lord of Meath; both had incurred forfeiture and exile in 1214. Walter’s reinstatement had been ordered by John on 6th July, 1215,[971] but Geoffrey de Marsh—who was appointed Justiciar on the same day—never carried out the order; in November, 1221, Archbishop Henry was bidden to do so without further delay.[972] Hugh, driven by the Albigensians from his place of refuge on the Continent, had then recently come under a safe-conduct to England.[973] Thence he seems to have gone into Wales. Some lands which he had held under his brother, and those which formed the dower of his wife, were restored to him on 27th December, 1222.[974] In the spring of 1223 he went to Ireland without the King’s leave.[975] There he stirred up so much mischief that in June the English government, after an ineffectual attempt to induce his brother Walter and the Earls of Chester, Salisbury, and Gloucester to undertake the custody of his lands for five years,[976] deemed it advisable to establish throughout the English dominions in Ireland a new system of provincial government by seneschals who, under the supreme authority of the chief Justiciar, should be “both willing and able to guard against the King’s damage, and manfully make war against his enemies when necessity should arise.”[977] John Marshal, who in February had been sent as assistant justiciar to help the Archbishop,[978] now received the custody of the territories of Cork, Des, and Desmond, with their castles;[979] Richard de Burgh (Hubert’s brother), who already held the honour of Limerick, was named seneschal of Munster and constable of Limerick castle;[980] William de Serland was appointed seneschal of Ulster.[981] Walter de Lacy, who since 1215 had been steadily loyal to the English Crown, was in England; but his men in Ireland gave shelter and support to his rebel brother, under whose command they committed grievous “excesses” on the King’s land, harrying and burning, and slaying or putting to ransom the men of the King.[982] In one of his raids Hugh nearly reached Dublin, and the Justiciar-Archbishop, taken at unawares, was forced to buy of him a truce till next summer.[983] Before it expired, a singular compact was made, in the early spring of 1224, between the King and Walter de Lacy. In consideration, on the one hand, of Walter’s faithful service, and on the other, of his legal responsibility for the misdoings of the men of Meath, it was agreed that the King should hold one of Walter’s English castles and one of his Irish ones—Ludlow and Trim—for two years from Easter (14th April); that Walter should go to Ireland “and fight to the uttermost of his power, with the King’s help, against the men who had done these things”; that when he should have thus won back control over his own lands, the King should hold them for a year and a day, “and after that there shall be done to Walter concerning them whatever the King’s court shall decide.” Meanwhile Walter was to have free use of Trim castle for the purposes of this war against his own men.[984] The trouble which Hugh had stirred up, however, was evidently felt to require, above all things, the presence in Ireland of a military leader, instead of an ecclesiastic, as the chief representative of the Crown. On 23rd April Earl William of Pembroke and Leinster was married to his promised bride, the King’s nine years old sister Eleanor;[985] within a month he sailed for Ireland to enter upon his duties as chief Justiciar in Archbishop Henry’s stead.[986]
A yet graver peril than that which disturbed the King’s “land of Ireland” was that which threatened his “land of Poitou.” The truce with France had just expired on Easter day, 14th April.[987] Ever since the previous October the English government had known, from the lips of Louis himself, that he was only awaiting its expiration to assemble his host for the conquest of Henry’s remaining continental territories; yet to meet his attack they seem to have made no preparation, except a final effort to secure the support of Hugh of Lusignan. On 15th January it was proposed to satisfy the claims of Hugh and Isabel by granting to them, in compensation for Isabel’s lost dower-lands in Normandy, the Stannaries in Devonshire and the revenues of Aylesbury for four years from the ensuing Easter; for the arrears due to Isabel since her second marriage, three thousand pounds of money of Touraine, to be paid within three years from Easter; and for their claim to Niort, one hundred marks annually (“although Niort is not worth that sum a year,” adds her royal son or his minister) to Isabel for life. If the King of France should invade Poitou within the four years, Hugh was to have “a reasonable aid” for the defence of Henry’s land; and in case of Isabel’s death Hugh was to keep for the same period the lands which he already held, except what he had “taken in the King’s service”[988] and the custody of the castle of Mausy, which had been for some time past in dispute between Henry and Hugh, and which Henry reserved to himself.[989] A modified form of these proposals was accepted by Hugh at the end of March. The annual sum promised in compensation for Niort was doubled; the three thousand pounds Tournois for arrears were to be all paid up at Whitsuntide of the current year; there was no express mention of Mausy, but it was conceded that Hugh and his wife, or the survivor of them, should keep for four years from Easter whatever they were seised of on S. Andrew’s day last past; whether this definition would or would not include Mausy does not appear.[990] Hugh was to swear that he would serve the King faithfully; and the Pope was to be requested to enforce, if necessary, the keeping of this agreement.[991] In accordance with it, Hugh was on 8th April asked to seize for Henry, as soon as the truce should be ended, the lands of a certain man “who was with the King of France.”[992] About the same time the sheriffs throughout England seem to have been ordered to seize into the King’s hand all lands held by Normans and Bretons—meaning, probably, such as had lands on both sides of the sea and were by reason of their continental possessions subjects of the French King. To this order, however, it was soon found advisable to make some considerable exceptions.[993] At the eleventh hour Louis suddenly offered to prolong the truce for ten years.[994] On 28th April—a fortnight after Easter—three envoys were sent from England to speak with him about prolonging it for four years.[995] He seems to have given them an audience, in presence of his Council, on 5th May;[996] but the negotiations were unsuccessful. Louis’s proposal had been prompted by a desire to free his hands for another expedition against Toulouse, where the Albigensians were again in the ascendent, and the Pope was anxious for the intervention of the French King.[997] The reason for the English counter-proposal is plain. In a little over four years Henry must needs be acknowledged as of full age in every respect; it was not right that after that time his hands should be tied by an engagement of such importance made while he was still in some sense a minor; if the truce was to be renewed, it must be only until his coming of age. Louis, however, insisted upon ten years or nothing.[998] On 15th May, therefore, Henry by letters patent announced that his truce with France was ended, and bade the chief English seaport towns make their ships ready for service at call, detain all vessels which should enter their harbours, and suffer none which were there to go out without his special leave.[999]
It was scarcely conceivable that Louis would make any attempt upon England before he had secured Poitou; we should therefore naturally have supposed that the ships thus collected were required for the transport of troops to assist Savaric de Mauléon in the defence of that country. The only troops actually sent, however, consisted of about a hundred knights and an unspecified number of men-at-arms[1000] commanded by Richard de Gray and Geoffrey de Neville,[1001] and destined to reinforce the garrison of La Rochelle.[1002] This force appears to have sailed at the end of May or in the first days of June.[1003] It was despatched “by the advice of the magnates of England”[1004]—that is, of the council which had been assembled in London for the reconciliation of Hubert and his opponents. That council then dispersed under orders to meet again at Northampton,[1005] on the octave of Trinity Sunday,[1006] 16th June, “for the purpose”—so Henry himself wrote to the Pope—“of giving us (the King) counsel and rendering us aid for the defence of our land in Poitou.”[1007] The nature of the proposed “aid” cannot be determined with certainty from the King’s words; they might stand either for personal assistance in the field, or monetary aid instead of service, or for both. The question about the obligation of military service beyond sea was still unsettled; and from the expressions used by some writers of the time we should gather that the ostensible purpose for which the barons were summoned to Northampton was merely to concert measures for the preservation of the King’s transmarine dominions.[1008] It is however scarcely credible that if the King and his ministers really desired to consult further with the barons about this most urgent business, the council actually assembled in London should not have been detained there for that purpose, instead of being dismissed for seven weeks and then reassembled elsewhere in the middle of June to discuss a matter which ought in fact to have passed from the stage of consultation to that of action by the middle of May. According to Falkes, on the other hand, the summons was for a muster of the host in arms.[1009] A statement made some years later by Hubert seems to confirm this version of the story,[1010] and we shall see from the sequel that the majority, if not all, of the barons went to Northampton attended by their followers in arms. There is, however, reason to believe that, if not in the mind of the young King himself, at least in that of his chief adviser, Poitou was not the real or at any rate the first destination of the host.
The changes in the custody of royal castles and wardenships ordered early in the year seem to have been effected without serious difficulty or delay, except with regard to one castle,[1011] Plympton. The King claimed the custody of Plympton on the ground that it formed part of the honour of Devon, which had belonged to the late Earl William of Devon, or “of the Isle” (of Wight), as he was sometimes called, father of Baldwin de Rivers, whose widow, Margaret, was the wife of Falkes de Bréauté. Falkes and Margaret had been married during Earl William’s lifetime, in 1215;[1012] but William {1215–1218} was very unwilling to give his daughter-in-law and her new husband seisin of the dower-lands to which she was entitled as Baldwin’s widow, and her claims were still unsettled when he died in September, 1217.[1013] They were settled at last by the regent Earl Marshal, on 30th March, 1218, when “the honour of Plympton, with the castle of Plympton, and all the land which belonged to the Earl of the Isle in Devonshire,” was by royal letter patent granted to Falkes and Margaret “as the same Margaret’s dower.”[1014] On 16th February, 1224, Henry transferred the custody of the Earl’s castles in Hampshire and of all the lands which had been his, “except his lands in Devon and the castle of Plympton,” to Waleran the German.[1015] So far as we know, Falkes complied with this order. On 13th March he was informed by letter patent that the King had committed Plympton castle (“which,” wrote Henry, “was given into your keeping by the elder William Marshal when he was governor of ourself and our realm”) to Walter de Falkenberg, and if Falkes were unwilling to deliver it to Walter, he must come to London at Mid-Lent (21st March), and deliver it there to the King in person.[1016] Falkes seemingly declined to deliver it at all, on the plea—for which, as has been seen, he had an excellent warrant—that he held it not in custody for the Crown, but as part of his wife’s dower. On 21st March the King wrote again, expressing his astonishment that Falkes had not made the expected delivery, and bidding him make it to Walter at once; “for,” wrote the King, “we are certain that that castle is the head of the Earl of Devon’s honour in Devonshire, and for that reason your wife neither can nor ought to have it in dower. If, however, she has less than she ought to have in dower of the land of her former husband, we will make up what is due to her according to the custom of our realm; but if she has more than she should have, we will have it measured according to justice.”[1017] The tone of these letters suggests that the King and his advisers, though determined to carry their point, were conscious of having undertaken a somewhat formidable task in committing themselves to a dispute with Falkes.
Seven men and one woman bearing the surname “de Bréauté” occur in the official records of England under John and Henry III. Four at least of the men were brothers or half brothers, and Avice was their sister.[1018] A little village near Havre must have been the original home of the family, whose first member to appear in history is Falkes. Several chroniclers tell us that he was a native of Normandy.[1019] After his fall his enemies heaped scorn on his origin; he was a “serf” of the King;[1020] patronymic he had none;[1021] and his singular personal appellation was according to one account not a Christian name, but a nickname derived from “the scythe” (faus or fauc in the contemporary speech of his native land) “wherewith he had slain a knight in his father’s meadow in Normandy.”[1022] Another writer seems to have thought that it had been given to him—whether at the font or otherwise—in the spirit of prophecy: “He might well be called after the scythe, that is, after an instrument of wholesale destruction.”[1023] One of the best authorities for the history of John’s reign says that the father of Falkes was a Norman knight.[1024] In all likelihood he was some small landowner whose sons, legitimate and other, left their paternal fields and came to England, like the family of Gerard of Athée, because they preferred to live in exile under their hereditary sovereign rather than in their own land under his conqueror.[1025] Another statement concerning Falkes which lacks confirmation is that he began life as a domestic servant of the King, in the capacity of “door-keeper.”[1026] The word used is an ambiguous one; the writer apparently wished his readers to understand by it a mere menial porter; but it would equally well represent a functionary of higher standing in the royal household, whose proper title was that of usher.[1027] In February, 1207, at any rate, {1207–1214} Falkes was made keeper of something else than the palace doors—the land of Glamorgan and the honour of Wenlock on the Marches of Wales.[1028] When he received this appointment he was a “sergeant,” or man-at-arms, “of the King”;[1029] probably it was on this occasion that John bestowed on him the honour of knighthood.[1030] These wardenships were held by Falkes for seven years, and he was also during part of that time constable of Caermarthen, Cardiff, and Gower.[1031] Within the important military sphere thus assigned to him he was given the fullest freedom of action; his valour, capability, and honesty were all alike trusted implicitly by the King, who employed him also on other business such as the payment of troops and other persons and the transport of money and treasure both in England and abroad.[1032] John, like most of the Angevin counts, was an excellent judge of men, and he had quickly discerned that Falkes, “though little of stature, was very valiant,”[1033] and that moreover he was gifted with a versatile capability and a thoroughness which almost matched those of the Angevin house itself. The writers of the time, while denouncing Falkes as “a rod of the Lord’s fury”[1034] and describing him as a monster of wickedness, unanimously acknowledge that his rise from poverty and obscurity to wealth, rank, and power was due to his conspicuous military talents, his dauntless valour, and the tireless energy and fidelity with which he served his royal master.[1035] In January, 1214 {1214–1216}, on the marriage of the King’s cousin Isabel of Gloucester to the Earl of Essex, Glamorgan passed with the rest of the lands appertaining to her honour of Gloucester into the hands of her husband; and at the same time Caermarthen, Cardiff, and Gower were transferred from the keeping of Falkes to that of the Earl Marshal.[1036] The King however gave Falkes plenty of occupation and compensation elsewhere. Early in 1215 Falkes was acting as a seneschal or steward of the King’s household.[1037] Meanwhile, as constable of Wenlock, he still retained the command of an important district on the Welsh March.[1038] There he gathered round him a picked band of kinsmen and followers who in 1215 and 1216 proved the most efficient and trustworthy section of the troops that fought for the Crown against the barons and the French invader.[1039] It was but natural that his services should be rewarded by the bestowal of large grants of land taken from the King’s enemies. This was the only way in which John could furnish him with means to continue those services, and it was also a most effectual way of securing that those lands should not fall back into the hands of the opposite party. The commission of seven shires in Mid-England to his custody as sheriff was a measure of policy, amply justified by its results in the struggle with Louis after John’s death, when the garrisons under the command of Falkes formed across the realm a chain which Louis never succeeded in breaking.