For three weeks longer Richard stayed in Normandy, winning all hearts by his gracious and affable demeanour.[374] [Sidenote: _Aug. 12_] On August 12 he went to England.[375] Landing at Southampton or Portsmouth,[376] he was received two or three days later with a solemn procession at Winchester by his mother and the chief nobles and prelates of the land.[377] As the archbishop of Canterbury had previously returned from Normandy,[378] the coronation might have taken place immediately, had the new king desired it. But, unlike every other king of England since the Norman conquest, Richard was in no haste to be crowned. There was no need for haste; he had no rival; he had, in England, no enemies; and he had made for himself a host of friends by a proclamation which during the last five weeks “honourable men” sent out by Eleanor according to instructions from him had been publishing and carrying into effect in every county. All persons under arrest for offences against Forest Law were to be discharged; those who were outlawed for a like cause were permitted to return in peace. Other persons imprisoned “by the will of the king or his justiciar,” not “by the common law of their county or hundred, or on appeal,” were also to be discharged. Persons outlawed “by common law without appeal by the justices” were to be re-admitted to peace provided they could find sureties that they would come up for trial if required; prisoners detained on appeal for any shameful cause were to be released on the same terms. All persons detained “on appeal by those who acknowledged themselves to be malefactors” were to be set free unconditionally. Malefactors to whom “life and limbs” had been granted as approvers were to abjure and depart from the king’s land; those who without the concession of life and limbs had of their own free will accused others were to be kept in custody till further counsel should be taken. The ordinance concluded by requiring every free man of the realm to swear fealty and liege homage to the new lord of England, “and that they will submit to his jurisdiction and lend him their aid for the maintenance of his peace and justice in all things.”[379] We cannot ascertain how far Richard was justified in the insinuation conveyed in this ordinance, that the administration of criminal law in Henry’s latter days had been marked not only by undue severity, but also by arbitrary interference on the part of the Crown or its officers with the rights and liberties of Englishmen. The most philosophic historian of the time, William of Newburgh, evidently thought that however Henry might have erred on the side of rigour, Richard at the outset of his reign erred no less in the opposite direction. “At that time,” says William, “the gaols were crowded with criminals awaiting trial or punishment, but through Richard’s clemency these pests came forth from prison, perhaps to become bolder thieves in the future.”[380] But the people in general