In 1230 Llewelyn inflicted another slight upon his overlord.  William de Braose long remained the Welsh prince’s captive, and only purchased his liberty by agreeing to wed his daughter to Llewelyn’s son, and surrendering Builth as her marriage portion.  The captive had employed his leisure in winning the love of Llewelyn’s wife, Joan, Henry’s half-sister.  At Easter, Llewelyn took a drastic revenge on the adulterer.  He seized William in his own castle at Builth, and on May 2 hanged him on a tree in open day in the presence of 900 witnesses.  Finding that neither the king nor the marchers moved a finger to avenge the outrage done to sister and comrade, Llewelyn took the aggressive in regions which had hitherto been comparatively exempt from his assaults.  In 1231 he laid his heavy hand on all South Wales, burning down churches full of women, as the English believed, and signalling out for special attack the marshal’s lands in Gwent and Pembroke.  Once more the king penetrated with his barons into Mid Wales, while the pope and archbishop excommunicated Llewelyn and put his lands under interdict.  Yet neither temporal nor spiritual arms were of avail against the Welshman.  Henry’s only exploit in this, his second Welsh campaign, was to rebuild Maud’s Castle in stone.  He withdrew, and in December agreed to conclude a three years’ truce, and procure Llewelyn’s absolution.  Hubert once more bore the blame of his master’s failure.

On July 9, 1228, Stephen Langton died.  Despite their differences as to the execution of the charters, his removal lost the justiciar a much-needed friend.  Affairs were made worse by the unteachable folly of the monks of Christ Church.  Regardless of the severe warning which they had received in the storms that preceded the establishment of Langton’s authority, the chapter forthwith proceeded to the election of their brother monk, Walter of Eynsham.  The archbishop-elect was an ignorant old monk of weak health and doubtful antecedents, and Gregory IX. wisely refused to confirm the election.  On the recommendation of the king and the bishops, Gregory himself appointed as archbishop Richard, chancellor of Lincoln, an eloquent and learned secular priest of handsome person, whose nickname of “le Grand” was due to his tall stature.  The first Archbishop of Canterbury since the Conquest directly nominated by the pope—­for even in Langton’s case there was a form of election—­Richard le Grand at once began to quarrel with the justiciar, demanding that he should surrender the custody of Tunbridge castle on the ground of some ancient claim of the see of Canterbury.  Failing to obtain redress in England, Richard betook himself to Rome in the spring of 1231.  There he regaled the pope’s ears with the offences of Hubert, and of the worldly bishops who were his tools.  In August, Richard’s death in Italy left the Church of Canterbury for three years without a pastor.