monks.  That night he prayed and fasted before the shrine, and the next day rode still fasting to London, which he reached on the 14th.  Three days later a messenger rode at midnight to the gate of the palace where the king lay ill, worn out by suffering and fatigue for which the doctors had applied their usual remedy of bleeding.  He forced his way to the door of the king’s bedchamber.  “Who art thou?” cried the king, suddenly startled from sleep.  “I am the servant of Ranulf de Glanville, and I come to bring good tidings.”—­“Ranulf our friend, is he well?”—­“He is well, my lord, and behold he holds your enemy, the King of Scots, captive in chains at Richmond.”  The king was half stunned by the news, but as the messenger produced Glanville’s letter, he sprang from his bed, and in a transport of emotion and tears, gave thanks to God, while the joyful ringing of bells told the good news to the London citizens.

Two great dangers, in fact, had passed away while the king knelt before the shrine at Canterbury.  On that very day the Scottish army had been broken to pieces.  In the south the fleet which lay off the coast of Flanders had dispersed.  On the 18th of July, the day after the good news had come, Henry himself marched north with the army that had been gathered while he lay ill.  Before a week was over Hugh Bigod had yielded up his castles and banished his Flemish soldiers.  The Bishop of Durham secretly sent away his nephew, the Count of Bar, who had landed with foreign troops.  Henry’s Welsh allies attacked Tutbury, a castle of the Earl of Ferrers.  Geoffrey, the bishop-elect of Lincoln, had before Henry’s landing waged vigorous war on Mowbray.  By the end of July the whole resistance was at an end.  On the last day of the month the king held a council at Northampton, at which William of Scotland stood before him a prisoner, while Hugh of Durham, Mowbray, Ferrers, and the officers of the Earl of Leicester came to give up their fortresses.  The castles of Huntingdon and Norfolk were already secured.  The suspected Earls of Gloucester and of Clare swore fidelity at the King’s Court.  Scotland was helpless.  A treaty was made with the Irish kings.  Wales was secured by a marriage between the prince of North Wales and Henry’s sister.

But there was still danger over sea, where the armies of the French and the Flemings had closed round Rouen.  On the 8th of August, exactly a month after his landing at Southampton, Henry again crossed the Channel with his unwieldy train of prisoners.  As he stood under the walls of Rouen, the besieging armies fled by night.  Louis’ fancy already showed him the English host in the heart of France, and in his terror he sought for peace.  The two kings concluded a treaty at Gisors, and on the 30th of September the conspiracy against Henry was finally dissolved.  His sons did homage to him, and bound themselves in strange medieval fashion by the feudal tie which was the supreme obligation of that day; he was now “not only their father, but their liege lord.”  The Count of Flanders gave up into Henry’s hands the charter given him by the young king.  The King of Scotland made absolute submission in December 1174, and was sent back to his own land.  Eleanor alone remained a close prisoner for years to come.