He had believed that the Bishop would advise them to disperse and was astonished when they came from his house shouting, ‘To Merton.’
He went at once to the King.
‘My lord,’ he said, ‘the mob is on the march.’
‘To Merton,’ replied Henry. ‘I have asked them to bring me Hubert de Burgh.’
‘Bring him to you! They will murder him first.’
Henry did not answer and Chester went on: ‘My lord, it is dangerous to rouse the mob. They will murder Hubert … horribly, doubtless. I have seen these men. It is a fearful sight to see a mob on the march. I beg of you to disband the mob while there is still time. It is not good for the people to see that it is possible to get what they want by force. I implore you, my lord. Command them to disband while you still have the power to do so.’
Henry hesitated. He knew that Chester was an enemy of Hubert. That was why he could believe him. He was suddenly afraid. He knew what had happened when the barons had risen against his father. Retaining the crown depended to a large extent on the good will of the people. The terrible story of his father’s reign was a lesson to him.
‘What must I do?’
‘Ride out with me now. We can catch up with the mob. You must command it to disband.’
So the King rode out with Chester and when they had caught up with the marchers Henry spoke to them.
He had not meant them to go thus to Merton. They knew that Hubert de Burgh was resting in sanctuary. It was against the laws of the Church to take a man from such a refuge. He had spoken rashly and they were in no way to blame or would not be if they disbanded quietly and returned to their homes.
The merchant who had doubted the wisdom of breaking into sanctuary was clearly relieved. He spoke for the mob and said they would return to their homes. They knew that the King would do what was necessary and that Hubert de Burgh would be brought to justice in due course.
When Peter des Roches heard what had happened, he was furious. Not only was Hubert still alive but he had been exposed as giving advice which was contrary to the rules of the Church.
He presented himself to the King and told him how wisely he had acted. He had been confronted by the mob, he explained, and he had told them that they must at all costs obey the King, which was what he believed good subjects should do; and Henry, who realised how foolish he had been in giving the order in the first place, was quite relieved to accept this explanation.
‘What do you propose to do in this matter now, my lord?’ asked Peter.
‘It is a matter for consideration,’ murmured Henry.
‘I doubt not that you will decide that he should have a list of the charges against him and be told that he is to prepare his answers.’
‘That had been in my mind,’ said Henry, looking eagerly at the Bishop for more suggestions.
‘And perhaps a safe conduct from the sanctuary to some place of his choice.’ Then taking him would not present the same difficulties.
‘It is what I had been considering.’
The Bishop retired well pleased. It was gratifying to his self-esteem to be able to guide the King so effortlessly.
When Hubert received the safe conduct from the King he and Margaret went to Brentwood – a house which belonged to Hubert’s nephew the Bishop of Norwich. He could rely on the help of the Bishop who owed his present position to him. But feeling it unwise to stay in the house he took refuge in the Boisars Chapel close by that he might once more find sanctuary.
As soon as Henry heard where he was he sent guards to take him and bring him to London.
When Hubert realised the perfidy of the King who had promised him time to prepare his answers against the charges, he tried to defend himself, but was soon outnumbered.
His captors, however, were afraid he would escape and sent for the local blacksmith to make chains that he might be fettered. The blacksmith, however, knew who he was and he declared that he wanted nothing to do with the matter. If the troops wished to fetter the Bishop’s uncle they must find some other to do it. Hubert decided that if ever he came into power again he would remember that blacksmith. His captors were not to be beaten however; they would do without chains and would bind him with ropes.
So he was bound and set upon a horse and brought to the Tower of London, and there he was lodged to await his trial.
The Bishop of London, hearing that he had been taken from the Boisars Chapel where he was in sanctuary and brought in fetters to London, went to see the King and pointed out to him that it was against the law of the Church for a man to be taken from sanctuary. No matter what a man’s crime, he was immune.
The Bishop was a little stern, implying that the King had forgotten the law of sanctuary which was that any man, be he the most hardened criminal, was entitled to refuge under the roof of the Church. For forty days and forty nights he should be safe there and any who dared touch him defiled the Church. At the end of that time he was bound to leave the country and should be guaranteed freedom from molestation while he made his way to the coast.
This law, the Bishop pointed out, had been ignored in the case of Hubert de Burgh and the men who had dragged him from Boisars Chapel.
Henry was once more in a quandary. The Bishop of London was very stern and although he referred to the soldiers who had taken Hubert as the offenders, he meant of course the King. Henry, who liked to think of himself as a deeply religious man, hated the thought of conflict with the Church; so he immediately agreed that Hubert should be taken back to the chapel where he would be guarded by two sheriffs. His servants might be with him to provide his food and any comforts they could.
After that, he could leave England, according to the laws of sanctuary, or if he failed to do this he would go to prison as was fitting for one who had proved a traitor to his King and country.
Hubert decided that he would leave England for a short period during which time he would prove his innocence, but it was discovered that he had a large quantity of jewels and gold and when these were found his enemies declared that these were in fact the King’s property and here was the proof they needed that he had enriched himself at the King’s cost.
It was no use Hubert’s protesting that the goods had been honestly earned during a lifetime of service. His enemies, led by Peter des Roches, advised the King that Hubert deserved to die.
Henry agreed and it appeared that the end was in sight. But it was not so, for Henry’s conscience began to worry him. He remembered scenes from the past and how Hubert had been there in many a crisis and that when the French were overrunning the country at the time of his father’s death, it was Hubert with William Marshal who had arranged for his coronation and had made the people see that with two such men beside him, supporting him, it was possible to drive the French out of the country.
Peter des Roches came to him and he could not hide how exultant he was. Henry took a sudden dislike to him and began to ask himself why he had allowed himself to be led by him.
‘We have cornered the wolf,’ said Peter des Roches. ‘His days are numbered. Nothing can save him now.’
Was this a man of God, to rub his hands in glee, to lick his lips in anticipation because a man’s blood was to be shed?
Henry said: ‘I can save him.’
‘My lord, what mean you?’ cried the Bishop.
‘I mean,’ said Henry, ‘that I am unsure of what will happen to Hubert. I have always heard it said that from the time he was a very young man he served my uncle Richard and my father very well. I used to think he served me well too.’
‘My lord, he is a cunning man.’