The conference had been held “between Gaillon and Andely,”[1235] or as another writer puts it, “at the Isle,”[1236] most likely the Isle of the Three Kings, whose name suggests that it had been the scene of meetings between Philip and the two Henrys, and which lies in the Seine almost under the shadow of the Rock of Andely. Probably this was the occasion on which Philip first saw the castle, then fast rising on that rock, and the completed square of walls enclosing the Lesser Andely, with the bridges and fortified outpost on the smaller island, barring the river. His courtiers—so runs [Sidenote: 1197?] the story told by Gerald of Wales—could not refrain from expressing their admiration of this wonderful piece of military architecture. Irritated by their praise of his rival’s work, he swore aloud that he wished the new fortifications were built wholly of iron, for if they were, he would none the less bring all Normandy, and Aquitaine as well, under his rule. The boast was reported to Richard: “By God’s throat!” swore the Lion-heart, “if yon castle were built of neither iron nor stone, but wholly of butter, I would without hesitation undertake to hold it securely against him and all [Sidenote: _Oct. 16_] his forces.”[1237] A month after the conference the exchange of lands between duke and primate was formally completed at the Castle on the Rock, by a charter in which Richard set forth his motive for the transaction: “The town of Andely and certain adjacent places which belonged to the see of Rouen being insufficiently fortified, the way through the same into our land of Normandy was open to our enemies.”[1238] That way was now so effectually barred that six years were to elapse before the enemy, notwithstanding his boast, made any attempt to cross or break the barrier; and when it fell at last after a six months’ siege, its fall was due less to the skill of its assailant than to the apathy of Richard’s successor in its defence.