On the second day after the Octave of Easter (April 11) a council of archbishop Theobald and all the bishops of England and many abbots was opened with great ceremony at Winchester under the presidency of the legate. Those who were not there sent reasons for their absence by proctor or letter. The proceedings of this council I will set forth for posterity with complete accuracy, since I was myself present, and I remember the whole perfectly. On that day, after reading the letters of excuse whereby some justified their absence, the legate summoned the bishops apart and discussed with them his secret intention; and afterwards the abbots, and last of all the archdeacons, were summoned. Of his purpose nothing was made public, but the thoughts and speech of all men were busy with what was likely to be done. On the third day the legate spoke to this effect: that by the Pope’s condescension he held his place in England, wherefore by his authority the clergy of England had been assembled at this council, that they might deliberate together touching the peace of the country, which was in grave peril of shipwreck. In the time of king Henry, his uncle, England had been a unique abode of peace, so that through the activity, the spirit and the labour of that unrivalled prince, not only the natives, whatsoever their might and rank, dared not make trouble, but also by his example all neighbouring kings and princes themselves yielded to peace and desired or forced their subjects to do the like. The same king, some years before his death, had caused the whole realm of England and the duchy of Normandy to be bound by the oath of all bishops and barons alike to his daughter, sometime Empress, his sole surviving child of his first wife, if he should fail of a male successor by the wife he had married from Lorraine. “And cruel fortune,” said he, “grudged him his desire, so that he died in Normandy without heir male. So, because it seemed long to wait for the Lady, who delayed her coming to England, for she was dwelling in Normandy, the peace of the country was provided for, and my brother was suffered to become king. Yet, though I pledged myself as surety between him and God that he would honour and exalt Holy Church, and maintain good laws and uproot evil, I grieve to remember, I am ashamed to recall, what manner of king he has shown himself; how no justice has been done on offenders, how peace was wholly destroyed almost within a year; bishops seized and forced to surrender their possessions; abbeys sold, churches plundered of their treasures; evil men’s counsel regarded, and good men’s put aside or wholly despised. You know how often I appealed to him, as well by myself as by the bishops, especially in the council summoned last year for this purpose, and yet I won nothing but disfavour. It can escape no man, who thinks aright, that I ought to love my mortal brother, but much rather ought to regard the cause of my immortal Father.