‘This has come at the best of moments,’ Richard said. ‘Any man of sense must see the way things are going. There will be trouble in England sooner or later, Henry. That much is clear.’

‘The King has a way of avoiding it simply by pretending it does not exist,’ said Henry.

‘It is a method which can work for a while, but sooner or later the truth has to be faced.’ Richard shrugged his shoulders. ‘Well now, we must make ready for our departure.’ He laid his hands on his son’s shoulders. ‘This will further our fortunes, my son, and nothing gives me greater pleasure than to contemplate what I can do for you.’

On a warm May day Richard with wife and son set sail for Dordrecht in a splendid company of fifty ships.

At Aachen he and Sanchia were crowned King and Queen of the Romans.

There was sorrow at Windsor. Little Katharine was dangerously ill.

Nothing could upset the Queen as much as threats to her children. Their health and well-being had been a constant cause of anxiety to her, and even when there had been no cause to worry she had been uneasy.

But there was no doubt that little Katharine was very ill. She had always been a strange child – aloof from the rest because she was dumb. The Queen had loved her the more for her affliction and had taken great pains to ensure that she felt no lack because of it.

Katharine had been exceptionally pretty and Henry used to say that more than any of the girls she had inherited her mother’s beauty.

And now they were going to lose her.

The Queen would not leave the child’s bedside and the King hovered over the Queen.

‘You will make yourself ill, my darling,’ he admonished her, but she only shook her head. It was as though she had some belief that while she was there death would not dare to take her child.

The little girl’s eyes pleaded with her to stay; the hot little hand clung to hers.

But it was no use. Not even the Queen’s fierce determination could save her daughter’s life.

On a bleak May day Katharine slipped away from life as quietly as she had lived it.

Soon after Katharine’s death it became clear that the patience of the barons was becoming exhausted.

Simon de Montfort – the King’s brother-in-law, who never failed to arouse uneasy thoughts in his mind – was back in England and it seemed that the discontented barons were looking to him as a leader.

There had been an outcry when Aymer of Valence, the King’s half-brother, had been given the See of Winchester. This meant that Boniface of Savoy, the Queen’s uncle, had Canterbury, the King’s half-brother Winchester and the most powerful member of the foreign party was William of Valence, another half-brother of the King.

Conferring together the barons decreed that soon not a single position of authority would be left to the English and the King’s penchant for foreigners must be blunted.

There was no doubt that the foreigners were a greedy company of men. The more the King bestowed on them the more they tried to get. Trouble began when William de Valence tried to extend his lands and in so doing encroached on those of Simon de Montfort.

Simon was determined not to let this pass; knowing that he had the backing of most powerful English barons he took the matter up with the council.

William de Valence, arrogant in the belief that he had his half-brother the King behind him, declared before the assembly that he had no desire to parley with a traitor.

Simon cried out: ‘I am no traitor … nor traitor’s son.’ This was a reference to the father of William de Valence, Hugh de Lusignan who had taken up arms against his King. ‘My father,’ added Simon, ‘was not like yours.’

William rushed at Simon; his hand on his sword.

They had to be parted.

The quarrel in itself might have been insignificant. Such quarrels did arise now and then between barons. But this was the leader of the foreign party against the man to whom the barons were looking more and more to lead them.

As Simon left the council chamber he was joined by Roger Bigod, the Earl of Norfolk.

‘My lord,’ said Roger, ‘a halt must soon be called to the arrogance of these foreigners.’

‘I am in complete agreement,’ replied Simon.

‘Praise God. There are thousands like us. What shall be done in the matter?’

‘We must call a meeting of those who share our anxieties. We must make up our minds then what action to take.’

There was no lack of men to join them.

The next meeting of the King and the parliament was a stormy one.

The King began by telling the assembly of his financial difficulties. They knew that there had been a famine due to the poor harvest; the Welsh were giving trouble and he was none too sure of the Scots. He had incurred great expense in the service of the country and he now needed further grants.

He was answered that had he not bestowed great gifts on the Queen’s family, his half-brothers and sisters and their foreign friends, he would have had ample funds for dealing with the country’s needs.

The King’s friends immediately rose in his defence while those barons led by de Montfort insisted on putting their point of view, which was that it was impossible to impose further taxation on the people and that economy might start by sending some of the parasites back to their own countries.

The squabble between the opposing parties might have grown into a fight if the King had not called a halt to the proceedings.

A few days later at Westminster Hall the King was confronted by several barons all in armour. He was startled. He knew now that they were serious in their intentions to curb him.

He noticed that none of them carried a sword. Each man had left his weapon at the door of Westminster Hall to show that this was not an attack, merely a threat.

‘What means this?’ cried the King. ‘Are you trying to make me your prisoner?’

‘Not so, my lord,’ answered Roger Bigod. ‘We but come to tell you that the aliens must be sent away. They are draining the country’s resources. The people will not endure it. If something’s not done the whole country will be in revolt as it was in your father’s day.’

Henry was very serious. The people were becoming restive. He was aware of it. It shocked him when they regarded him sullenly. Worst of all was when they shouted after Eleanor. She pretended to despise them, but he knew she was upset.

‘What we ask of you,’ said Simon, ‘is that you promise to be guided by twenty-four elected magnates. There must be reforms.’

Henry looked at the stern faces of the barons. It was as though he saw the ghost of his father at Runnymede lurking behind them.

He agreed.

Simon moved into action supported by men such as Roger Bigod. Twenty-four men were selected – half by the King, half by the barons. This community was to meet three times a year to bring about reforms in State and Church.

Then the Parliament selected another twenty-four members. Thus it consisted of forty-eight men. From these were chosen a Justiciar, a Chancellor and a Treasurer. It was made clear that the assembly was to be of temporary duration. At the end of one year they would answer to the King and the Council for their actions.

The first act passed by the Parliament was that the aliens should surrender to the King those castles which he had bestowed on them. This brought a protest from William de Valence who refused to give up anything. ‘Your castle or your head,’ was the retort of Simon de Montfort. The answer of William de Valence was to take shelter in the castle of Wolvesey which had been bestowed on his brother Aymer.