In angry haste he concentrated all the force he could move from the Razes country on the upper Aude, the Carcassonne district, the Lauraguais region between Toulouse and Carcassonne, and the Toulousain district itself. Then, his concentration made, he promptly appeared before the town more like an enemy than like a rightful lord returning to his own. Now Toulouse, like most important thirteenth-century towns, was a “free city,” a practically independent little republic, whose elected magistrates were accustomed to sit in conference with their nominal feudal lord and follow his lead by their own consent rather than be commanded by him. Accordingly, they asked de Montfort to enter peaceably, unarmoured, and mounted on a palfrey. He replied fiercely that message after message had told him of their conspiracies and treasons against him, and that he would put off neither his hauberk of mail nor his helmet of Pavian steel until he had taken hostages of the flower of the city. After more high words, the magistrates were inclined to yield, and prepared to confer with de Montfort outside the walls, but were restrained from putting themselves in his power by public opinion, which began to run high. About this time a number of squires, young gentlemen, and pages from de Montfort’s army, entered the town and began to break in and pillage. This was too much. A typical mediæval riot started. Men of all ages and classes, and even women, seized whatever was handy that might serve as a weapon. Barricades of furniture, stakes, and barrels sprang up before every house, and piles of stones and beams appeared on the balconies ready to be thrown down on the heads of the “French.” Battle was joined to the cry of “Montfort” on one side, “Toulouse! Beaucaire! Avignon!” on the other, and matters became so hot that de Montfort’s people, forced to give way under the rain of missiles from the houses, could scarcely make good their retreat over more barricades thrown up to cut them off. Seeing that the place could not be held, Count Simon ordered it to be set on fire in several places. The “French” had become scattered, and the energy of the Toulousains put them in danger of being crushed, so that they had to concentrate and cut their way through in deep columns. By nightfall only the citadel, the “Chateau Narbonaise,” was still in de Montfort’s hands. He himself was “full of rage and anxiety” at the heavy losses his troops had suffered. On the following day, however, Bishop Fulk persuaded the Toulousains to submit, and give not only hostages but also a huge ransom of 30,000 marks. De Montfort accepted the hostages and the ransom, and then pillaged the place once more, “destroyed” its fortifications (after he had officially demolished them in the previous year), filled up the ditches and disarmed the inhabitants. The uneasy peace lasted through the rest of the year.