“Yes,” said others, “let us on to Bedford, to which William Beauchamp will admit us without a blow.” Accordingly the barons raised the siege of Northampton, and marching to Bedford, of which William Beauchamp, one of their party, was governor, they took possession of the town. But John did not despair. A considerable body of mercenaries were now at his beck and call. William de Collingham was rallying archers to the royal standard; Pembroke, Warren, and Salisbury were mustering the fighting men of the districts subject to their sway; Lord Neville had hurried to his castle of Raby to summon the men of the North to the war. So long as London held out--and so far the Londoners seemed to look quietly on--there was still hope for the royal cause. Such was the state of affairs when an event occurred which changed the face of matters, and baffled all calculations. It was Sunday, the 17th of May, 1215; and the king, having just heard morning mass, and summoned Oliver Icingla and other hostages, was informing them that their lives were forfeited by the rebellion of their kinsmen, and that they could only save themselves by taking an oath to serve him faithfully in the war, when William de Collingham presented himself, pale and agitated, but endeavouring to be calm. “Sire, sire,” said he, “all is lost!” “What mean you?” asked John, in a voice tremulous with emotion, and dismay on every feature. “Simply this, sire,” answered William; “the Londoners have proved traitors, and Robert Fitzwalter and his army are now in possession of the city.” John rose, tottered, reseated himself, tore his hair, and uttered some wild words, as if cursing the hour in which he was born. “By God’s teeth!” cried he, stamping violently, “I have never prospered since the day I was reconciled to the Pope.” But fury and regret could avail the king nothing. Every gate was already in the custody of the insurgents; and from the castles of Baynard and Montfichet waved the standard of revolt. CHAPTER XI ANCIENT LONDON At the opening of the thirteenth century, London, as I have already mentioned, was a little city, containing some forty thousand inhabitants, and surrounded by an old Roman wall, with seven double gates--the fortifications--being in parts much decayed. It was in the form of a bow and string, being much more extensive from east to west than from north to south, and narrower at both ends than at the middle; and the wall on the south side, along the bank of the Thames, was straight as a line, and fortified with towers, or bulwarks, in due distance from each other.