Things went by contraries. Stephen allowed the nobles to make themselves impregnable in the royal castles and then sought to dislodge them by raising up a new and hostile baronage. The nobles, needing money to carry on war amongst themselves and against the king, extorted it from the people. “Those whom they suspected to have any goods they took by night and by day, seizing both men and women,” says the Saxon Chronicle,[27] “and they put them in prison for their gold and silver, and tortured them with pains unspeakable, for never were martyrs tormented as these were.” And then, “They were continually levying an exaction from the towns, which they called Tenserie (a payment to the superior lord for protection), and when the miserable inhabitants had no more to give, then plundered they and burnt all the towns, so that well mightest thou walk a whole day’s journey nor ever shouldest thou find a man seated in a town, or its lands tilled.” Henry of Huntingdon adds a detail which fills out the picture of wretchedness. Speaking of Stephen’s promise to abolish the Danegeld in 1135, shortly after his accession, the chronicler says, “The king promised that the Danegeld, that is two shillings for a hide of land, which his predecessors had received yearly, should be given up forever. These ... he promised in the presence of God; but he kept none of them.”[28] [Henry II, 1154-1189] By the treaty of Wallingford in 1153, Stephen agreed that the crown should descend at his death to Henry of Anjou,[29] the son of the Empress Matilda, and great-grandson of the Conqueror. The treaty provided, also, for comprehensive reforms which Stephen, a melancholy figure in contrast with the vigorous Henry, tried to work out. Stephen died at the end of a year’s attempt to put in operation the new programme and Henry came to the throne. Henry’s reign was marked by a regular and peaceful administration of the government which had its rise in the genius of the king for organization. It witnessed too the struggle with Thomas à Becket, a conflict which has been pointed to as “the first instance of any opposition to the king’s will in the matter of taxation which is recorded in our national history.”[30] [Controversy with Becket over the Sheriff’s Aid] The story of it is full of dramatic interest. At the Council of Woodstock in 1163, “the question was moved,” so goes the Latin narrative, “concerning a certain custom.” This custom, which amounted to two shillings from each hide, had previously fallen to the sheriffs, but this “the king,” so continues the Latin account, “wished to enroll in the treasury and add to his own revenues.”[31] In response to this, Becket is recorded as saying, “Not as revenue, my lord king, saving your pleasure, will we give it: but if the sheriffs and servants and ministers of the shires will serve us worthily and defend our dependents, we will not fail in giving them their aid.”[32]