Henry, who had fostered England’s injustice by showing too much favour towards those born in foreign lands, went forth to this battle with Simon armed in the armour of another man (I know not whose) so that England’s justice could justly be gained. I venture to say that it was for the benefit of England’s justice that the king went out armed in this manner, so that he would not, if perchance he came out of the battle alive and rule it again, possibly once more reassemble the foreigners in opposition to the natives, and the last error would be worse than the first. So it seems that the barons proposed the king ought to die along with them—if they themselves were bound to die in a battle where the king was present—falling under the many harsh blows of his own loyal men, being of course unrecognised by them.¹ He was no longer fit to fight with the rest, but with such cries as he could make, he shouted out, saying, ‘I am old Henry, the king of England!’ swearing now, ‘By the love of God!’ now, ‘By God’s head!’ and declaring that he was the king. And he said to those who were attacking him, ‘Do not strike me, for I am not able to fight, because of my age!’ It was usual for him to swear by such oaths; and so, as he repeatedly swore in this way, his helmet was removed from his head, and when it was ascertained from his face that he was indeed the king, he was led away beyond the army of dying men. The next day he was restored to his kingdom at the wishes of Simon’s enemies and the barons’ murderers. A few weeks later, it came about that the king, yielding to his own counsels and those of some of his nobility, banished his own sister, the wife of Simon, from his kingdom, along with her only daughter—a very beautiful young girl who afterwards married the prince of Wales—and likewise three of her sons born of Simon. And so, upon Simon’s death, and the death of Hugh Despenser and other nobles of the land, there was a great lamentation among the people of England. But later on a cause of enormous joy followed it, since the wondrous works of God are preached² in the precious death of holy men.³ For God produced many signs of true holiness through Hugh. When the blind come to his tomb they receive sight, the lame walk upright; and all the other righteous miracles that God performed for him—a righteousness gained from God himself, because he was always truly righteous, as much as lay in him,⁴ regarding the righteousness of the just judgements⁵ of God and of men, from whose truth he would never be turned aside. God has therefore, without doubt, produced for him (as I have said) all his divine rights after his death, because he always kept to the path of righteousness in the life before his death. But did Almighty God leave Simon alone without any miracles? No! Let us therefore now make known at least a few miracles divinely performed on his account. It happened then that, no sooner had Simon been killed and stripped of the armour in which he lay dead, one of the sons of Belial⁶ went up to his body and cut off the hands and feet from it; and you may find a true story about one of those hands as follows. There was a Marcher⁷ in the earldom of Chester who was here with Edward at the battle of Evesham. After the battle he laid hold of one of the slain Simon’s hands (about which we have already spoken) and sent it by means of a retainer—a collaborator in his impiety—to his wife so that she might rejoice over the killing of an enemy, Simon’s amputated hand being a most certain sign of his killing. Arriving with the hand at his lord’s manor, and not finding the lady of the manor at home, he hastened to the parish church, where she was to be found, not far from her husband’s estate. When he arrived there with the hand, which he was carrying in his breast and wrapped in a handkerchief, he approached the lady and whispered to her about the slaughter of Simon. He said, ‘This is the token of his brutal death,’ intending to show her the amputated hand. But the woman was embarrassed, or was perhaps in fear of God;